Iron and Magic

Chapter Seventeen

Page count: 20

George, being the closest, was able to reach Hermione not before her knees buckled and hit the ground, but before she collapsed entirely, preventing her from injury and potentially knocking herself unconscious.

Her sobs were silent, her body shaking and jerking violently and her grip on his woollen jumper tight and unrelenting. George folded his arms around her and held her against him, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of her head before he tucked it beneath his chin, taking a slow and calming breath.

He heard and felt movement and he opened his eyes, a horrified Tony Stark coming into view as he kneeled before him, his hand paused and held above Hermione's shoulder, hesitating in his need to touch and comfort her.

"What anniversary?" He demanded to know, but his voice was surprisingly quiet and his dark gaze was glued to Hermione, his expression a combination of horror, pain and helplessness.

George sighed. "If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you." He shifted his arms around Hermione and held her tighter. "No," George interrupted Tony's retort before he even voiced it. "It's not my right or secret to tell, it's hers. I don't care for your wounded ego or pride, she's my priority and if she hasn't told you, that's her decision and I'm not going to betray that."

The Stark genius lifted his gaze to George, meeting his steely turquoise stare, daring him to push the matter further.

"Is it her parents?"

"She told you about them?" George appeared surprised.

Tony swallowed and nodded. "She told me they died; they were killed because of her existence."

George released a slow breath. "No, it's not her parents. And that's all I'm telling you."

Altering his grip, George effortlessly manoeuvred Hermione in his hold before rising to his feet, noting that Hermione made no noise or movement to acknowledge the action. Tony mimicked his actions.

"Where's her room?"

Tony's eyes darted between him and Hermione, unable to see her face due to it being buried in George's chest and her thick mass of hair acting as a cover. Tony turned on his heel and headed down the corridor, straining his hearing when George followed. He overhead mutterings from the tall redhead, Tony being unsure of the language or the words spoken, or the meaning behind it.

Reaching Hermione's room, Tony pushed the door open and allowed the redhead to step inside, seeing his slightly arched eyebrow as he scanned his surroundings curiously before he headed for the bed, shifting Hermione to lay in the centre of the mattress and he followed and allowed her to cling to him, making herself as small as possible.

"You going to stand there all night?" George grumbled, lifting his eyes to the doorway where Tony hovered. "I know you're friends and you obviously care for her, and I'm grateful for all you do whilst she's here and I'm back in England, but right now, there's nothing you can do for her."

George could see that Tony was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Hermione alone and although it did appear as though he was going to argue, George was surprised when he gave a stiff nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.

~000~000~000~

Hours had passed since George's arrival and Hermione's breakdown. It was still the early hours of the morning but the sky was still dark and there was very little traffic in the streets below them.

George had allowed Hermione to cling to him until she'd permanently altered the shape of his jumper and ripped little holes in the fabric with her nails. Until she'd cried her throat hoarse and tears stained her cheeks. Until her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, her nose sore and red. Until she'd cried herself into exhaustion and she fell asleep, her hold on him still tight and unrelenting.