The Art of An Ending

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Fallacy of Induction

Of course, when Erica went up to the Hospital Wing later that evening, she didn't expect to see Fred and George there as well as Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Neville.

She stood awkwardly in the entranceway as they all turned to face her, none of them reacting. Her eyes flickered towards the bed they were grouped around, and Ron's unconscious form, and her lips parted slightly when she took in his pallor and how limp he was.

Finally, Fred asked, "Are you going to come in?"

She stepped further into the room, uncertain, before taking a few more hurried steps until she was stood at the foot of his bed, feeling their eyes on her as she stared down at Ron, all of a sudden uncertain of what to do with the handful of purple hyacinths she had brought with her.

Harry was the one who eventually reacted, standing up and accepting the flowers from her and busying himself Conjuring a vase and filling it with water from the jug on the nightstand before arranging the flowers inside, returning to his seat in silence once the task was done.

Finally Ginny asked, in a rather harsh tone, "Why did you come?"

"I needed to see- to know-" she turned to Harry, because she could feel the bond humming between them and the slight pain he had in his left elbow despite not feeling the twinge she expected was there, and because he seemed like the safest option at the moment. "What exactly happened?"

Harry told her the story, talking in a monotone voice devoid of emotion, until he finished with, "and then I got the bezoar down his throat and his breathing eased up a bit, Slughorn ran for help, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey turned up, and they brought Ron up here. They reckon he'll be all right. Madam Pomfrey says he'll have to stay here a week or so... keep taking Essence of Rue..."

Erica nodded but she was shaking, and her fingers reached up instinctively to the pendant at her throat, taking comfort in the warmth of her own magic just beneath the surface of the alexandrite, wondering if she should temporarily halt the trickle of her magic into the stone so she could feel that warmth in her own body before deciding to cast if from her mind. It wasn't worth the risk of her health just for a few moments of comfort.

"You still wear it?" and that was Fred, who had followed her hand when she'd grabbed the pendant, his eyes a little softer than before. "I thought you would have- I don't know- got rid of it or something."

"Of course I wouldn't," Erica shook her head, her eyes widening slightly at the very thought. Even if it wasn't being used as a container for her magic, she still wouldn't have taken it off. "Unless..." she paused, suddenly uncertain. "Unless you want it back."

The others had been watching the exchange in relative silence, though Fred's harsh intake of breath at that caused George to scowl and Harry to tilt his head slightly, frowning as he glanced between them.

"No, it's yours," Fred shook his head, before glancing back to Ron. "It was lucky that Harry thought of the Bezoar."

It was an evident change of the subject, and everyone jumped on it quickly.

"Lucky there was one in the room," Harry corrected him slightly, and Erica grew cold as she thought again at how close Ron had come to death because of her poison and Draco's actions.

Hermione gave an almost inaudible sniff. Her cheeks were still as blotchy and red as they had been in the Great Hall.

"Do mum and dad know?" George turned to Ginny, and Erica realised they must not have been there that long, if questions like that were still being asked.

She hovered at the end of the bed, uncertain of whether she should stay or leave, but her decision was made for her when Neville stood up and dragged a chair across from one of the other empty beds and motioned for her to sit beside him. She did, though still wasn't certain it was the best decision.