Harry Potter One Shots

Say My Name

Hermione had come as soon as she'd heard, which wasn't soon enough. Her feet flew across the flagged stone of the castle, tracing the all-too-familiar path to the hospital wing, and when she saw Harry and Ginny outside the doors her heart skipped a beat. Wordlessly, Harry touched her arm, but she didn't bother reciprocating the affection.

"What happened?" she asked briskly, barely aware of Ginny's presence.

As Harry explained, she sunk further into a pool of numbness and anxiety. Ron - Ron- had been poisoned. She hated herself for even thinking it, but the most shocking part to her was that it was Ron and not Harry. In fact, if Harry hadn't been right in front of her, telling her about an ill-fated trip to Professor Slughorn's office, Hermione would have expected to walk through the doors and see himlying in a bed. Picturing that was much easier than picturing Ron still, pale, and unconscious, because it was always Harry.

Before she could blink, they were following Madam Pomfrey to where the achingly familiar figure of Ron lay on crisp white sheets, hair shockingly bright, skin shockingly dull. Hermione's fingers itched with the need to touch him; to prod his cheek and clutch his hand and tell him to, WAKE UP!

Like it's Christmas or something,she thought disgustedly to herself. Don't be stupid, Hermione.

While the others discussed earnestly what could have happened, who could have done this, and why, Hermione sat silently and stared at the imprint of a boy she knew as well as the back of her hand. If she focused intently enough, she could make out his breathing, deep and even. She could almost convince herself he was just asleep.

Tuning back into the conversation, she registered that her four companions - Fred and George had arrived just after her, Harry, and Ginny - were going round and round in circles. Without even thinking about it, she was speaking, saying something about the poisoner and Slughorn, who she had apparently decided were definitely different people. Her mouth seemed to be moving faster than her mind, and she hated it, because here she was spewing all this logic and thought, sounding as though her brain had been working when really it felt like a cloud of fog. And then-

"Er-my-nee."

Something in Hermione snapped and feeling flooded into her again. Her fingers tightened on the seat of her chair and she had to physically stop herself from laughing out loud, because he was going to be okay. She didn't know how she knew it, but him saying her name had made it all very clear.

Before she could say something, before she could work up the courage to take Ron's hand, Hagrid burst into the room. When Mr and Mrs Weasley arrived, too, Hermione, Harry and Hagrid left (not before Mrs Weasley could smother Harry in a hug).

Hermione felt distinctly calmer and more centred as they left the hospital wing. There was a part of her that stayed behind with Ron; she could feel it tugging sharply somewhere inside her, but it was no more than a twinge, and she pushed it aside with the thought of visiting a (hopefully) conscious Ron soon.