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The words reverberated in her head. She had been yelling so much, she didn’t know if she could yell anymore. Her temples throbbed while her ears rung with the intensity of their argument. She could still hear her shouting at her in the other room.
“I HATE YOU!” she heard boom from the other side of the door.
“YOU ARE THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!” could be heard echoing throughout the house.
The frustrated grumbles of both of them meshed together and sounded like an overtired Blast-Ended Skwert. Her eyes started to sting and she tried as hard as she could to suppress the tears. Soon enough, her face was streaked with moister. She roughly wiped her cheeks and fell onto the chair behind her.
Rose’s eyes still stung from crying as she opened them. But she wasn’t on the chair in her sitting room. She opened her eyes to see the stark white walls of the hospital. She kept her head on the bed, thinking about her latest adventure into her subconscious. Come to think of it, she wasn’t really sure it was her subconscious anymore. At least that was a memory she had, but it wasn’t her memory. She remembered that day, it was the last conversation she had had with her mother. At that point, she had been in the kitchen, not the sitting room, and she had been the one yelling, not listening. Rose was almost positive that she had just dreamt her mother’s memory of their last fight, and she had absolutely no idea how, or why.
With her head still resting on the bed, she closed her eyes again, willing the thousands of jumbled thoughts in her head to go away.
It was then she felt something lightly brush against her cheek. Dismissing it as her imagination, she closed her eyes tighter. The sensation on her face came again, this time slightly harder, just enough to convince Rose it wasn’t in her head. She slowly reached her hand up to her face. It was there it met another hand, one that wasn’t hers. Then, the silence of the room was broken.
“Rose?” it was soft and horse, like the voice hadn’t been used in some time. Rose’s heart began to beat ferociously as her eyes shot open. She was afraid to turn her head, afraid that it would be her imagination, that she would see her mother lying there, unconscious, just as before. “Rosie, is that you?” it came out almost breathless and strained, one of those voices that made Rose want to clear her own throat.
She carefully turned her head to see where the voice was coming from. As she did, her eyes met another pair, the same dark brown. They were slightly unfocused, and gazing around slowly, but Rose couldn’t help the smile that stretched over her face and the flutter of excitement in her chest. Her mother was awake.
“Mom!” Rose finally responded to Hermione and grabbed the hand that had been brushing her face. “You’re awake!” She felt more tears forming in her eyes, but this time they weren’t tears of fear or anguish, they were tears of joy.
Gradually, Hermione’s eyes were coming into focus, “What happened?” her voice had gained the slightest bit of strength after looking at her daughter. “Where am I?”
“You’re at St. Mungo’s. You were attacked,” Rose let out a loud sigh, “But it’s going to be ok now. I promise,”
“But,” Hermione closed her eyes and opened them again, straining to take a deep breath, “You’re supposed to be at school. What are you doing here?”
Rose couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. She sniffled through her smile, “I came back for you,”
A smile formed on Hermione’s face, and she looked as if she was going to respond, but it was too late. Teams of Healers quickly entered the room and surrounded the bed. Rose had to admit; they were good. Hermione had only been awake a few minutes and they were right on top of it.
Then, a rough hand grabbed Rose’s shoulder and pulled her up, “You can wait outside Miss Weasley,” the grizzly voice wasn’t one that she had heard before. Fear welled up in her again. If she left now, this could all end up being one of those crazy dreams. She didn’t want it to end. She had so many things she needed to say.
“Wait!” Rose protested frantically, “Why can’t I stay?” The large man who had pulled her up was now starting to push her towards the door, “No! I want to stay!” she was fighting against the now angry looking Healer, “You can’t make me leave already!” Another large Healer had now joined the first and they were both attempting to escort Rose from the room. “Mom!”
This was a lot of commotion for someone who had woken up from a coma less than ten minutes ago. Feelings of fear and anxiety formed in the pit of Hermione’s stomach as Healers swarmed around her. She was suddenly very aware that she didn’t know any of these people. Feeling frighteningly like a small child, she glanced over to Rose for some sort of support, but she was gone. The anxiety continued to grow and her breath quickened, but the deeper she tried to breathe, the harder it was. “Rose?” she called out. She tried to lean forward, to find her daughter, but a sharp pain shot through her back when she did. Grimacing, she gingerly placed herself back on the pillow and called again, “Rose?”
“Minister,” an arrogant looking Healer with large bags under his eyes addressed her, “it would be best if you stayed still,”
“MOM!” she heard coming from the other side of the room.
Hermione gave the Healer the most frightening look she could manage, “Where did my daughter go?” she noticed that her voice didn’t sound as commanding as it once had.
“She’s going to have to wait outside,” a flash of a smile came over the Healer’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, “There’s no need to worry Minister. Simply relax and we’re going to figure this all out,”
Hermione was too weak to fight him. She laid her head back on the pillow, realizing that more parts of her body hurt than just her back.
Rose was tossed very unceremoniously out of the room by the two burly Healers. Stumbling into the hallway, she caught her balance and made to storm right back into the room, but the door was closed, and locked. She frantically pulled out her wand and pointed it at the door. “Alohomora,” she yelled, but nothing happened. Of course they have protection against something as simple as that, she thought. She raised her wand at the door again; ready to shout “Reducto,” when a voice addressed her from behind.
“Anxious to get inside, are we Miss Weasley?” she spun around to realize Healer Parcelll had snuck up behind her yet again.
“They kicked me out!” Rose responded in outrage. She turned on the door again, but Parcelll, quickly and skillfully pulled out his own wand and disarmed her. Whipping around she saw him holding up her wand as well as his own.
“Let’s not go blasting down any doors today,” he smiled that relaxed, bright white smile at her, “I’m going to go inside, and I am going to make sure that your mother is cared for exactly as she needs to be,” Rose couldn’t help but be reassured by him, he simply had that effect on her.
“Promise?” this came out more like a five-year-old being assured they would get ice cream if they finished their vegetables, but Healer Parcelll didn’t comment on that.
“I promise,” he responded sincerely, and handed Rose back her wand, “If you promise not to blast down this door,” he smiled at her again.
She glanced down at her wand, “I promise,”
Suddenly, an extremely frazzled Ron came barreling down the hall. He skidded to a stop right where Rose and Parcelll were standing and turned to face the Healer, “She’s awake?” he asked hopefully.
“I do believe that is what all the commotion is about,” Parcelll answered matter-of-factly, glancing sideways at Rose, who slipped her wand back into her pocket.
Ron made a noise that could only be described as pure joy, picked Rose up and spun her around. She couldn’t help but smile and laugh at her father’s outburst. As Ron placed Rose back on the ground, he turned to the Healer again, more serious this time, “Is she alright?” he asked with the tiny inklings of fear worming their way back into his voice.
“That is what I was just going to find out,” he made a sweeping hand gesture towards the door, “Shall we?”
Ron followed Parcelll as Rose shot him a look of disbelief, she wanted back in that room. “As soon as possible,” he whispered to her, “and remember,” he glanced at the pocket where she had stowed her wand, “you promised,”
“So did you,” she whispered back. He raised his eyebrows and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. He waved his wand in front of the door and it instantly opened. He and Ron disappeared inside.
Still overly anxious, Rose began to pace outside the door. She was petrified that something would happen, that she had had her moment with her mother and it was over, and she didn’t say nearly everything she had to say. She started sorting through all the things she planned on telling her mother as she continued to pace. Honestly, she had forgotten about her anger about them not explaining the war more thoroughly. She wanted to talk about the letters…and the dreams. She wanted to apologize. Yes, apologize, that was first. She had started mumbling to herself as she placed everything in logical order. It was only after a few minutes that she realized that there was someone next to her. She jumped, startled by the presence of another person.
“You alright there Rose?” Albus grinned back at her.
“Al! What are you doing here?” her mind was still having trouble processing anything but the events of the last hour.
“I heard she woke up. I got here as fast as I could,”
“ROSE!!” Both Rose and Al spun around to see Lily running down the hall. When she reached them, she put both her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
Rose looked at both her cousins, “They won’t let us in,”
Lily straightened up looking confused and still out of breath, “Why not? Did something happen?”
“I thought she woke up,” Al shot at Rose.
“She woke up?!” Lily now had a look of excited shock on her face.
“I thought so,” Al was talking to Lily now, “That’s why I’m hear,”
Lily turned to Rose, “She’s awake?”
“Yeah, she is,” Rose was trying to listen as her cousins spoke at a breakneck speed, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Lily stared at Rose for a moment, almost like she was trying to remember exactly why she was there. She had gotten so caught up in the excitement. She shook her head fiercely. “No! I’ve been looking for you,”
“Looking for me?” Rose was really starting to get a headache, “Why?”
Lily quickly gazed around the hallway, “Kenny isn’t with you?”
Rose stomach dropped, “No! He left me at the Ministry,” she glared at Lily, “I thought he went with you!”
Now it was Lily’s turn to pace around the hallway, “This might be bad,”
Rose was starting to hyperventilate, “What do you mean ‘this might be bad’,” Al had come over and placed a hand on Rose’s back, trying to clam her down.
Lily finally looked up at the two of them, her face etched with worry, “Well, someone broke into our house. They didn’t take anything, but my dad thinks they might have taken someone,”
“WHAT?!” Rose stumbled back and fell onto one of the chairs lined against the wall. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “No, no, no, no,” she mumbled to no one in particular.
“Dad thinks it was the same people who attacked your mom,” Lily sat in a chair next to her; Al squatted down in front of her. When he heard this, he shot a look at his sister.
“He does?” Lily just nodded. “Then I know where he is!”
“You do?” Lily sounded completely astonished.
“It’s only my job Lil,” Al shot back, not in the mood to deal with his unsupportive little sister.
“Sorry,” Lily rolled her eyes, “It just seems very coincidentally helpful,”
“Will you two please shut up and tell me where he is!”
“C’mon,” Al grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall. Lily rushed behind them. Rose caught one last glance at the door to her mother’s room, hoping she’d have a chance to come back.
Back in the room, Healers were continuing to bustle about Hermione. Ron had rushed in with Healer Parcelll and planted himself in his chair next to the bed. The two large Healers that had thrown Rose out were looking at him with distain.
Hermione was relieved that Ron was there. The minutes after she had realized Rose was thrown out had been stressful to say the least. Usually, Hermione wasn’t uncomfortable with strangers; she was the Minister of Magic. She met new people all the time. However, she had never felt this vulnerable in her life. She had no idea what was going on, which she also was not used to. Something had happened, but what she didn’t know. All she knew is that the more the Healers poked and prodded her the more pain she was in. It felt like knives were piercing up and down her back, and her chest felt like she had been punched by someone the size of Hagrid. On top of all that, she also couldn’t feel her left foot. She was starting to fear that something was seriously wrong.
Hermione really didn’t like most of the Healers. They continued to examine her and talk amongst themselves like she was as child. Many of them kept looking at her like she was a child as well. She may have been barely able to move, but she was cognizant.
She noticed two of the Healers having a discussion in the corner. One was the arrogant one she had spoken to after Rose had been kicked out, and the other one had come in was Ron. He hadn’t spoken to her yet, but there was something about him that put her more at ease. She noticed that he smiled a lot more than the other man. Whereas the arrogant Healer seemed to be getting angrier as their discussion continued, the other one continued to look calm. The angry man gave a frustrated grunt and turned to the room.
“Alright everyone, Healer Parcell,” he glared back at the Healer in the corner, “would like some time with the Minister. So we shall leave him alone,”
Everyone began to file out of the room, leaving Parcelll alone with Hermione and Ron. He made his way from the corner over to the bed, his bright smile still on his face.
“Minister,” he nodded to Hermione, “My name is Spencer Parcelll. I’m a specialist in jinx distinction from Los Angeles,”
Hermione gave him a small smile. He was the first person that actually introduced himself to her. “Please, call me Hermione,”
“Of course,” he smiled even wider and she noticed that his teeth almost sparkled, “Now that you’re awake, I’ll be able to do a more thorough examination and gage your reactions. Hopefully, we’ll be able to figure out what hit you and what it did,”
Hermione looked at Ron, confused, “So I was attacked. Ron, what happened?”
Ron didn’t make eye contact with his wife. He really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Ronald,” Hermione addressed him in a warning tone.
Ron took a deep breath, “Well, I wasn’t there when it happened. I was running late,” he looked ashamed of himself, “But according to Harry, you had just finished your speech, and all of a sudden spells started flying everywhere. You were hit by a lot of them. When I got there, you were unconscious,” He looked intently at his feet.
Hermione outstretched her arm and took Ron’s hand. She grimaced as pain shot from her shoulder to her wrist at the movement. “Ron,” she addressed him softly. He didn’t look up. “Ron look at me,” it wasn’t a command. She sounded like she was pleading with him. He slowly raised his head. She noticed his eyes were glistening with tears he refused to spill. “This is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done,” She wanted to lean over and kiss him, to make him feel better, but she was afraid of the pain that would inevitably follow the movement.
Ron simply gave a slight nod and grunt. He was sure that if he tried to talk, he would start to cry, and the last thing Hermione needed right now was him crying. What she needed was for him to be strong.
“I’m glad you weren’t there. You could have been in a bed next to me,” She couldn’t even think about that. What would her kids have done? Suddenly she turned to Parcelll again, causing a sharp pain in her neck. Yes, this was definitely not good. “My daughter, the redhead, she was in here when I woke up,”
“Hermione,” Parcell soothed, “I know who your daughter is,”
“Yes, well, when can I talk to her?”
“She’s waiting quite impatiently outside that door,” he laughed, “As soon as I finish my initial examination, you can talk to her as long as you want,”
Hermione sighed, “Alright then, what do you need to do?”
“Well, we’re going go systematically and you’re going to tell me how everything feels,” he glanced at her feet, “Let’s start at the bottom,”
She glanced at him strangely, “Um, I can’t feel my left foot,” she finally replied.
“That is certainly a start,”
“I HATE YOU!” she heard boom from the other side of the door.
“YOU ARE THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!” could be heard echoing throughout the house.
The frustrated grumbles of both of them meshed together and sounded like an overtired Blast-Ended Skwert. Her eyes started to sting and she tried as hard as she could to suppress the tears. Soon enough, her face was streaked with moister. She roughly wiped her cheeks and fell onto the chair behind her.
Rose’s eyes still stung from crying as she opened them. But she wasn’t on the chair in her sitting room. She opened her eyes to see the stark white walls of the hospital. She kept her head on the bed, thinking about her latest adventure into her subconscious. Come to think of it, she wasn’t really sure it was her subconscious anymore. At least that was a memory she had, but it wasn’t her memory. She remembered that day, it was the last conversation she had had with her mother. At that point, she had been in the kitchen, not the sitting room, and she had been the one yelling, not listening. Rose was almost positive that she had just dreamt her mother’s memory of their last fight, and she had absolutely no idea how, or why.
With her head still resting on the bed, she closed her eyes again, willing the thousands of jumbled thoughts in her head to go away.
It was then she felt something lightly brush against her cheek. Dismissing it as her imagination, she closed her eyes tighter. The sensation on her face came again, this time slightly harder, just enough to convince Rose it wasn’t in her head. She slowly reached her hand up to her face. It was there it met another hand, one that wasn’t hers. Then, the silence of the room was broken.
“Rose?” it was soft and horse, like the voice hadn’t been used in some time. Rose’s heart began to beat ferociously as her eyes shot open. She was afraid to turn her head, afraid that it would be her imagination, that she would see her mother lying there, unconscious, just as before. “Rosie, is that you?” it came out almost breathless and strained, one of those voices that made Rose want to clear her own throat.
She carefully turned her head to see where the voice was coming from. As she did, her eyes met another pair, the same dark brown. They were slightly unfocused, and gazing around slowly, but Rose couldn’t help the smile that stretched over her face and the flutter of excitement in her chest. Her mother was awake.
“Mom!” Rose finally responded to Hermione and grabbed the hand that had been brushing her face. “You’re awake!” She felt more tears forming in her eyes, but this time they weren’t tears of fear or anguish, they were tears of joy.
Gradually, Hermione’s eyes were coming into focus, “What happened?” her voice had gained the slightest bit of strength after looking at her daughter. “Where am I?”
“You’re at St. Mungo’s. You were attacked,” Rose let out a loud sigh, “But it’s going to be ok now. I promise,”
“But,” Hermione closed her eyes and opened them again, straining to take a deep breath, “You’re supposed to be at school. What are you doing here?”
Rose couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. She sniffled through her smile, “I came back for you,”
A smile formed on Hermione’s face, and she looked as if she was going to respond, but it was too late. Teams of Healers quickly entered the room and surrounded the bed. Rose had to admit; they were good. Hermione had only been awake a few minutes and they were right on top of it.
Then, a rough hand grabbed Rose’s shoulder and pulled her up, “You can wait outside Miss Weasley,” the grizzly voice wasn’t one that she had heard before. Fear welled up in her again. If she left now, this could all end up being one of those crazy dreams. She didn’t want it to end. She had so many things she needed to say.
“Wait!” Rose protested frantically, “Why can’t I stay?” The large man who had pulled her up was now starting to push her towards the door, “No! I want to stay!” she was fighting against the now angry looking Healer, “You can’t make me leave already!” Another large Healer had now joined the first and they were both attempting to escort Rose from the room. “Mom!”
This was a lot of commotion for someone who had woken up from a coma less than ten minutes ago. Feelings of fear and anxiety formed in the pit of Hermione’s stomach as Healers swarmed around her. She was suddenly very aware that she didn’t know any of these people. Feeling frighteningly like a small child, she glanced over to Rose for some sort of support, but she was gone. The anxiety continued to grow and her breath quickened, but the deeper she tried to breathe, the harder it was. “Rose?” she called out. She tried to lean forward, to find her daughter, but a sharp pain shot through her back when she did. Grimacing, she gingerly placed herself back on the pillow and called again, “Rose?”
“Minister,” an arrogant looking Healer with large bags under his eyes addressed her, “it would be best if you stayed still,”
“MOM!” she heard coming from the other side of the room.
Hermione gave the Healer the most frightening look she could manage, “Where did my daughter go?” she noticed that her voice didn’t sound as commanding as it once had.
“She’s going to have to wait outside,” a flash of a smile came over the Healer’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, “There’s no need to worry Minister. Simply relax and we’re going to figure this all out,”
Hermione was too weak to fight him. She laid her head back on the pillow, realizing that more parts of her body hurt than just her back.
Rose was tossed very unceremoniously out of the room by the two burly Healers. Stumbling into the hallway, she caught her balance and made to storm right back into the room, but the door was closed, and locked. She frantically pulled out her wand and pointed it at the door. “Alohomora,” she yelled, but nothing happened. Of course they have protection against something as simple as that, she thought. She raised her wand at the door again; ready to shout “Reducto,” when a voice addressed her from behind.
“Anxious to get inside, are we Miss Weasley?” she spun around to realize Healer Parcelll had snuck up behind her yet again.
“They kicked me out!” Rose responded in outrage. She turned on the door again, but Parcelll, quickly and skillfully pulled out his own wand and disarmed her. Whipping around she saw him holding up her wand as well as his own.
“Let’s not go blasting down any doors today,” he smiled that relaxed, bright white smile at her, “I’m going to go inside, and I am going to make sure that your mother is cared for exactly as she needs to be,” Rose couldn’t help but be reassured by him, he simply had that effect on her.
“Promise?” this came out more like a five-year-old being assured they would get ice cream if they finished their vegetables, but Healer Parcelll didn’t comment on that.
“I promise,” he responded sincerely, and handed Rose back her wand, “If you promise not to blast down this door,” he smiled at her again.
She glanced down at her wand, “I promise,”
Suddenly, an extremely frazzled Ron came barreling down the hall. He skidded to a stop right where Rose and Parcelll were standing and turned to face the Healer, “She’s awake?” he asked hopefully.
“I do believe that is what all the commotion is about,” Parcelll answered matter-of-factly, glancing sideways at Rose, who slipped her wand back into her pocket.
Ron made a noise that could only be described as pure joy, picked Rose up and spun her around. She couldn’t help but smile and laugh at her father’s outburst. As Ron placed Rose back on the ground, he turned to the Healer again, more serious this time, “Is she alright?” he asked with the tiny inklings of fear worming their way back into his voice.
“That is what I was just going to find out,” he made a sweeping hand gesture towards the door, “Shall we?”
Ron followed Parcelll as Rose shot him a look of disbelief, she wanted back in that room. “As soon as possible,” he whispered to her, “and remember,” he glanced at the pocket where she had stowed her wand, “you promised,”
“So did you,” she whispered back. He raised his eyebrows and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. He waved his wand in front of the door and it instantly opened. He and Ron disappeared inside.
Still overly anxious, Rose began to pace outside the door. She was petrified that something would happen, that she had had her moment with her mother and it was over, and she didn’t say nearly everything she had to say. She started sorting through all the things she planned on telling her mother as she continued to pace. Honestly, she had forgotten about her anger about them not explaining the war more thoroughly. She wanted to talk about the letters…and the dreams. She wanted to apologize. Yes, apologize, that was first. She had started mumbling to herself as she placed everything in logical order. It was only after a few minutes that she realized that there was someone next to her. She jumped, startled by the presence of another person.
“You alright there Rose?” Albus grinned back at her.
“Al! What are you doing here?” her mind was still having trouble processing anything but the events of the last hour.
“I heard she woke up. I got here as fast as I could,”
“ROSE!!” Both Rose and Al spun around to see Lily running down the hall. When she reached them, she put both her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
Rose looked at both her cousins, “They won’t let us in,”
Lily straightened up looking confused and still out of breath, “Why not? Did something happen?”
“I thought she woke up,” Al shot at Rose.
“She woke up?!” Lily now had a look of excited shock on her face.
“I thought so,” Al was talking to Lily now, “That’s why I’m hear,”
Lily turned to Rose, “She’s awake?”
“Yeah, she is,” Rose was trying to listen as her cousins spoke at a breakneck speed, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Lily stared at Rose for a moment, almost like she was trying to remember exactly why she was there. She had gotten so caught up in the excitement. She shook her head fiercely. “No! I’ve been looking for you,”
“Looking for me?” Rose was really starting to get a headache, “Why?”
Lily quickly gazed around the hallway, “Kenny isn’t with you?”
Rose stomach dropped, “No! He left me at the Ministry,” she glared at Lily, “I thought he went with you!”
Now it was Lily’s turn to pace around the hallway, “This might be bad,”
Rose was starting to hyperventilate, “What do you mean ‘this might be bad’,” Al had come over and placed a hand on Rose’s back, trying to clam her down.
Lily finally looked up at the two of them, her face etched with worry, “Well, someone broke into our house. They didn’t take anything, but my dad thinks they might have taken someone,”
“WHAT?!” Rose stumbled back and fell onto one of the chairs lined against the wall. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “No, no, no, no,” she mumbled to no one in particular.
“Dad thinks it was the same people who attacked your mom,” Lily sat in a chair next to her; Al squatted down in front of her. When he heard this, he shot a look at his sister.
“He does?” Lily just nodded. “Then I know where he is!”
“You do?” Lily sounded completely astonished.
“It’s only my job Lil,” Al shot back, not in the mood to deal with his unsupportive little sister.
“Sorry,” Lily rolled her eyes, “It just seems very coincidentally helpful,”
“Will you two please shut up and tell me where he is!”
“C’mon,” Al grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall. Lily rushed behind them. Rose caught one last glance at the door to her mother’s room, hoping she’d have a chance to come back.
Back in the room, Healers were continuing to bustle about Hermione. Ron had rushed in with Healer Parcelll and planted himself in his chair next to the bed. The two large Healers that had thrown Rose out were looking at him with distain.
Hermione was relieved that Ron was there. The minutes after she had realized Rose was thrown out had been stressful to say the least. Usually, Hermione wasn’t uncomfortable with strangers; she was the Minister of Magic. She met new people all the time. However, she had never felt this vulnerable in her life. She had no idea what was going on, which she also was not used to. Something had happened, but what she didn’t know. All she knew is that the more the Healers poked and prodded her the more pain she was in. It felt like knives were piercing up and down her back, and her chest felt like she had been punched by someone the size of Hagrid. On top of all that, she also couldn’t feel her left foot. She was starting to fear that something was seriously wrong.
Hermione really didn’t like most of the Healers. They continued to examine her and talk amongst themselves like she was as child. Many of them kept looking at her like she was a child as well. She may have been barely able to move, but she was cognizant.
She noticed two of the Healers having a discussion in the corner. One was the arrogant one she had spoken to after Rose had been kicked out, and the other one had come in was Ron. He hadn’t spoken to her yet, but there was something about him that put her more at ease. She noticed that he smiled a lot more than the other man. Whereas the arrogant Healer seemed to be getting angrier as their discussion continued, the other one continued to look calm. The angry man gave a frustrated grunt and turned to the room.
“Alright everyone, Healer Parcell,” he glared back at the Healer in the corner, “would like some time with the Minister. So we shall leave him alone,”
Everyone began to file out of the room, leaving Parcelll alone with Hermione and Ron. He made his way from the corner over to the bed, his bright smile still on his face.
“Minister,” he nodded to Hermione, “My name is Spencer Parcelll. I’m a specialist in jinx distinction from Los Angeles,”
Hermione gave him a small smile. He was the first person that actually introduced himself to her. “Please, call me Hermione,”
“Of course,” he smiled even wider and she noticed that his teeth almost sparkled, “Now that you’re awake, I’ll be able to do a more thorough examination and gage your reactions. Hopefully, we’ll be able to figure out what hit you and what it did,”
Hermione looked at Ron, confused, “So I was attacked. Ron, what happened?”
Ron didn’t make eye contact with his wife. He really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Ronald,” Hermione addressed him in a warning tone.
Ron took a deep breath, “Well, I wasn’t there when it happened. I was running late,” he looked ashamed of himself, “But according to Harry, you had just finished your speech, and all of a sudden spells started flying everywhere. You were hit by a lot of them. When I got there, you were unconscious,” He looked intently at his feet.
Hermione outstretched her arm and took Ron’s hand. She grimaced as pain shot from her shoulder to her wrist at the movement. “Ron,” she addressed him softly. He didn’t look up. “Ron look at me,” it wasn’t a command. She sounded like she was pleading with him. He slowly raised his head. She noticed his eyes were glistening with tears he refused to spill. “This is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done,” She wanted to lean over and kiss him, to make him feel better, but she was afraid of the pain that would inevitably follow the movement.
Ron simply gave a slight nod and grunt. He was sure that if he tried to talk, he would start to cry, and the last thing Hermione needed right now was him crying. What she needed was for him to be strong.
“I’m glad you weren’t there. You could have been in a bed next to me,” She couldn’t even think about that. What would her kids have done? Suddenly she turned to Parcelll again, causing a sharp pain in her neck. Yes, this was definitely not good. “My daughter, the redhead, she was in here when I woke up,”
“Hermione,” Parcell soothed, “I know who your daughter is,”
“Yes, well, when can I talk to her?”
“She’s waiting quite impatiently outside that door,” he laughed, “As soon as I finish my initial examination, you can talk to her as long as you want,”
Hermione sighed, “Alright then, what do you need to do?”
“Well, we’re going go systematically and you’re going to tell me how everything feels,” he glanced at her feet, “Let’s start at the bottom,”
She glanced at him strangely, “Um, I can’t feel my left foot,” she finally replied.
“That is certainly a start,”
