The Worst Day Ever by bentheslayer

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 27/08/2008
Last Updated: 27/08/2008
Status: In Progress

It should have been the perfect day - Harry had finally decided to reveal his long-hidden
feelings to Hermione. Little did he know what was in store for him . . .




1. Didn't See That One Coming
-----------------------------

**Author’s Note:** Thank you to Lisa (poppy) for Beta-ing this for me. All characters belong
to JK and I’m just shamelessly borrowing them.

The Worst Day Ever

Chapter 1 – Didn’t See That One Coming

Looking back on it, Harry decided that this couldn’t possibly have happened on a worse day.

The day itself had actually been going very well indeed, and a seemingly endless surge of
excitement had propelled Harry around the castle from one lesson to the next. Things were finally
changing for the better: it had been six months since Voldemort’s defeat, and the Wizarding
population was beginning to recover. The mourning had passed, and people were smiling again.
Hogwarts had been rebuilt and reopened, and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had returned to
re-take their seventh year. Classes were going well and, without the continual threat of Voldemort
hanging over everything, actually felt like they had a purpose.

That particular day had dawned crisp and clear, the grounds covered in crunchy red and gold
autumn leaves, Harry’s favourite time of year. It was a Friday. There was a Hogsmeade visit the
next day, and a Quidditch match on Sunday. He didn’t get a single question wrong all day and even
earned Gryffindor some House Points for brewing a perfect cauldron of Scintillation Solution. But
none of this was the reason for Harry’s good mood, or his excitement.

Today, he had decided, was going to be the day he finally told Hermione how he felt about
her.

Oh, he was nervous, Merlin was he nervous. He had loved her for so long, quietly pined for her
and wanted her for as long as he could remember. But now, finally, there was nothing to hold him
back. No reason not to tell her. The thought of them together had given him the warm buzz that had
carried him all day. He even had it all planned out: after the evening meal he would ask her to
walk around the lake with him, something they did often - nothing unusual there. And when they
reached the spot where they always stopped and talked about everything they’d done all day, he
would tell her. It should have been perfect.

Harry had *not* planned on this.

- -

The smile he had worn all day was still on his face when he left the short meeting with the
Ravenclaw Prefects. Lessons were finished for the day, which just left the evening meal and then .
. . Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he thought about what he was going to do. His footsteps almost
skipped along the carpeted corridor too. He waved absently at a portrait that hailed him as he went
past, and he was just about to rummage through his bag for the Marauder’s Map when an
anxious-looking Neville burst through a tapestry ahead of him, startling a painting of gossiping
witches into screams. The look on Neville’s face made the smile on Harry’s disappear for the first
time that day.

“Harry, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

“Neville, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, suddenly concerned.

“You’ve got to come quick,” Neville told him, panting heavily. His face was red and blotchy from
exertion. “It’s Hermione; she’s in the Hospital Wing . . .”

Harry’s eyes widened and he felt a stab of fear, sharp and cold.

“What’s happened to her, Neville?” he said desperately.

“It’s Ron too . . . you’ll never believe it . . .”

Harry didn’t have time to register the baffled tone of Neville’s voice, as he was already off
and running. His feet took him instinctively towards his goal as his mind raced, running through
every terrible thought imaginable: had there been an accident? Was she hurt? Was she *alive?*
He would feel guilty for not worrying about Ron later; for now, his only concern was Hermione. He
tore through secret passageways, dodged around surprised students in the corridors and even vaulted
right over the head of a particularly small first year until he finally burst through the doors of
the all-too familiar Hospital Wing. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he certainly hadn’t
expected this.

The pale sunlight filtered in through the tall windows. At the far end of the ward Ron and
Hermione were sat on opposite beds, both facing the entrance. Harry’s immediate fears were
assuaged, as physically they both seemed fine – he couldn’t see any cuts, bruises or burns, and
they were both sitting up. But from the looks on their faces there was obviously something wrong:
Hermione looked completely shell-shocked, her face drained of colour and her eyes wide, staring
straight ahead but not really looking at anything. Ron looked absolutely livid, his face crimson
and fists clenched, and his entire body seemed to be trembling with rage. Like Hermione, he too
seemed to be staring straight ahead without really seeing anything. Behind them, Professor
McGonagall was talking animatedly with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn. Ginny was sitting in
a chair next to Ron’s bed, her expression half horror and half amusement. Luna sat on the bed next
to Hermione, holding one of her hands and smiling serenely. She gave Harry a small wave as he
entered.

“What’s happened?” Harry asked anxiously as he walked towards them, returning Luna’s wave. His
gaze kept moving from Hermione to Ron and back again.

“Ah, Mister Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “We find ourselves in a most unusual situation
here. I must ask you to prepare yourself for quite a shock.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ginny snorted.

“Yes, thank you Miss Weasley.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry, looking around wildly. “What’s going on, are they hurt? Why
aren’t they talking?”

“We do not know whether it was an accident, or a prank-“

“A prank!” Madame Pomfrey screeched. “Whoever did this has gone too far for a prank!”

“Yes Poppy, I agree,” Professor McGonagall said severely, “however it does not change the fact
that, unfortunately, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have been subject to a very complex and difficult
spell. The effects of which . . .”

“No!” Ron yelled suddenly, leaping up from the bed and turning to face them. “This is not
happening! I REFUSE to believe this is happening!”

“Please try and be calm, dear,” Madame Pomfrey began, but was cut off by Ron’s furious yells.
Even Slughorn took a step back and tried to place himself behind Professor McGonagall.

“CALM? CALM? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CALM?”

“Ron mate, what’s happened?” Harry asked, approaching his best friend warily. The tall red-head
turned to him, and now that he was closer Harry could see there was more than just anger in his
friends face. There was shock and disbelief too. But mostly anger.

“What’s wrong, Harry??” Ron asked incredulously, and then stalked towards him. Stopping inches
from his face, he hissed “I . . . am . . . a . . . BOY!!!!”

Something clicked inside Harry’s head, and absolute horror dawned on him. Even though it was
Ron’s voice that spoke, there was something about the inflection, the pronunciation. Harry knew
that voice anywhere, even if it didn’t sound like it normally did. His fears were confirmed when he
took a few steps towards Hermione and got a better look at her face. It was her beautiful eyes, the
ones that had captivated him for so long, her beautiful face and mouth. But the shocked look was
one he recognised well, having seen it so many times before. As if reading his thoughts, Hermione’s
eyes swivelled to his, and she uttered a quick “Don’t want to talk about it mate.” Luna patted her
hand affectionately.

Harry took one more look between his two best friends.

“Merlin’s *pants*.”

* * *



