Begin Again - Dramione

Mystery

Hermione's POV

"A single tiny light creates a space where darkness cannot exist. The light vanquishes the darkness. Try as it might, the darkness cannot conquer the light." ― Donald L. Hicks

"Come 'mione, this way." Harry called. I looked up from the piece of parchment I held, which was actually a note from McGonagall wanting to see me when I got back to school later. Harry was standing next to Ginny at the end of the corridor. Our eyes met briefly and I nodded. I could feel his agitation from across the corridor but I refrained myself from trying to console him. I hadn't really figured out the problem with Ginny but I knew this much: she didn't like me being close with Harry. It was an absurd idea in itself, but it was my best guess. And to my immense astonishment, I had not had time to really give it much thought lately.

"You go ahead. I'll be with you in a moment." I told him. He stared at me for a long moment, trying to decipher my thoughts but before he could say anything, Ginny had pulled at their intertwined hands and he disappeared from my line of vision. I sighed. I stood there for a long moment, thinking about the last time I had been here, just after the war had ended. I had gone to Australia to track down my parents and had brought them back to this very hospital to get their memories restored. Suffice it to say, this place didn't hold many good memories.

I walked to the ward, which Harry and Ginny had walked into, and peered inside through the blinds. I could see almost all of the Weasley family and Harry standing beside Ron's bed. Ron was lying unconscious on the cot, wearing a white gown. He looked pale, lying so still. I could barely see his chest rising and falling. There, on his right side was a small table, practically over flowing with vials filled with potions and other medicines. Everyone was standing somberly, looking down at Ron's unconscious figure. Taking in a deep breathe to calm my nerves, I took hold of the door knob and twisted it, pushing it open. Everyone looked up as I slowly made my way into the room.

Slowly, I walked toward Ron's bed and stopped next to George. He looked at me and gave me a small smile. "He'll be okay, don't you worry your head." He whispered. I sent him an appreciative smile; I knew how sensitive he had become after Fred's death. I could detect the fear in his eyes, fear of losing Ron too. If anything, he needed those words of encouragement and consolation more than me, I thought.

The healer walked in then, carrying a file and a quill. Everyone shuffled to the side as the young woman came closer. She was a young petite lady, her hair tied up in a knot and large spectacles adorned her small face. She gave a smile to everyone as she noticed the large crowd, but I didn't miss the brisk, disapproving look in her eyes.

Silently, she began examining Ron, probing and poking him with her wand while muttering spells under her breathe. Every now and then, she'd scribble down something on the file. It went on for a while, unti she stopped abruptly, her wand hovering over his heart. I stared at her with bated breath, feeling scared. She turned to us and asked for us to leave the room. Molly looked at her with an alarmed expression on her face but before she could protest, Mr. Weasley had already dragged her out of the room. All of us followed shortly.

To say the tension was arrant in the cramped little waiting room, would be an understatement. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting impatiently for the healer to show up and explain what had happened back in the ward with Ron. I sat between George and Fleur on the small cold, steel bench, my hands tightly clenched together in my lap. Harry and Ginny paced before us agitatedly, sighing every once in a while. Mrs. Weasley had been crying for some time now and Arthur was much too much exhausted to console her.

When the Healer finally showed up, everyone sprang from their positions, crowding around the woman, holding their breath before she revealed Ron's condition.