My Heart Remembers Differently

HOW DID I GET HERE?

I opened my eyes to the pale light of sunshine as it struggles through the gloom of the hospital wing at Hogwarts.  I have been here so many times before that I know exactly where I am, but I don't know why I am here in this bed.  What happened? The last thing I remember is weeping into my pillow in the bitter cold tent when Ron left Harry and I because of his insane jealousy caused by the Horcrux he wore around his neck.  Or was it because of the Horcrux?  My head hurt when that question came to mind. 

Still, I am not sure how I came to be here.  I feel like a block of my memories are gone.  My heart hurts as if I am missing more than memories.  I start to reach up to make sure I am not wounded in my chest but someone is holding my hand.  I turn my head slightly.

Ron.

His face is bruised, cut and his eyes are so sad.  I waited for the last emotion of grief I remember feeling to come back from when he left me and Harry stranded, but instead I felt a different emotion.  Guilt?  Indifference?

"Hermione?"  Ron whispered as if he wasn't expecting me to wake up.  I blinked slowly as other pain in my body made me aware that I had been physically hurt by something or someone.

"Ron?  What h-h-happened?"  I croaked.  My throat was dry and burned.  It felt swollen as if someone had gripped it with bruising fingers.

"It is all over, now.  We are safe.  We won, I guess."  He tried for a smile but the expression on his lips was wobbly.  "Voldemort is dead.  The Death Eaters have fled and Hogwarts seems to be healing itself as we speak."  Ron said with a shrug.  As if agreeing with Ron's explanation a loud crash happed outside the hospital wing.  Ron looked up and then back down at me.

"Where is Harry?"  I asked and my heart started to beat fast in my chest.  I had known.  I knew that he was a Horcrux.  I tried to sit up but Ron moved to the bed and laid me back against the thin mattress of the hospital bed.

"Harry is fine.  He is with the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt."  Ron sighed.  "Harry is unofficially an Auror.  He is working with the ministry to rid the place of the bloody Voldemort supporters.  There will be months, or maybe years of trials as the Death Eaters are found and tried."  Ron said.

"Why can't I remember?"  I whispered.  Every time I tried my head hurt worse like I was pounding on a locked door with bloody hands.  Ron pushed a strand of my curly hair away from my face.

"It was after Voldemort died.  We all thought that the Death Eaters had fled.  One had hid and tried to kill you.  Harry saw it happen and saved you.  None of us knew until he brought you to the makeshift hospital room.  Madame Pomfrey was worried that you wouldn't recover.  She called for a Healer from St. Mungo's to assist her.  The healer said it was better not to move you from Hogwarts."  Ron explained. 

That his explanation caused me to be frustrated is a very weak way to explain how I felt.  I remembered nothing.  How did I get to Hogwarts?  Where had Ron disappeared to?  When had he come back?  Had I forgiven him?

"I don't remember anything except you left Harry and me in the woods, Ron."  I said in a hoarse whisper.  He frowned and at least had the decency to look ashamed.  He didn't answer me right away, instead reached for a jug of Pumpkin Juice on the beside table.  He poured a cup and then assisted me with sitting up and drinking it.  The cool liquid slid down my fiery throat like the nectar it was.  I sighed and nodded when I was through.

"Hermione, the Healer said you hit your head.  He couldn't tell if you were cursed or not because of the damage of your body.  You fell.  Harry said the Death Eater was trying to get away with you on his broom.  When he saw Harry coming for you, he tossed you to the ground and threw a curse at Harry.  No one was there to stop you from hitting the ground.  Harry was screaming for help when he carried you into the castle.  Hermione, you almost died."  Ron's voice broke.  I frowned at his explanation. 

I couldn't remember anything that Ron just told me, but something doesn't feel right.  I don't know why, but I feel like his explanation is filled with holes.  I look back up at Ron's face as familiar to me as my own.  I realize that if there is information missing in his recollection of what happened that Ron Weasley is as clueless as I am