Unfortunate Events

Event Twelve: Penultimate Peril, Part One

Hermione stared up at the ceiling, eyes unseeing. Her mind was racing, preoccupied with the horrors of last night. She had stayed on Harry's stoop, crying her heart out, but silently so she wouldn't wake his cranky neighbor. She hadn't wanted to go home, even though the ground was hard and her dress was still soaked through. The idea of Draco waiting for her at her flat was almost as unbearable as the idea of him not being there.

When she could barely stay awake, she apparated back to her apartment, disconnected her chimney from the floo network, removed Draco's permissions to apparate into her flat, and finally stumbled into bed for some restless sleep.

Crookshanks was now at her feet, and Widdershins was at her face, licking her back into the world of the living. With a groan, Hermione glanced over at her alarm clock. It was ten in the morning. She was supposed to be in Venice with Draco, not being smothered by her cats. The reminder brought on a fresh wave of tears.

A knock at the door interrupted her pity party. Startled, Hermione shot up in bed, instantly regretting it. Her head positively ached, and now that she was thinking about it, so did her throat. Great. On top of all the wonderful things that were going on in her life, she was getting a cold.

Hoping her visitor would go away, she laid back down on her bed. Hermione wasn't ready to face the world. In fact, she was still hoping that last night had been nothing more than an unusually horrid nightmare. Throwing her pillow on top of her head, Hermione willed herself to go back to sleep and wake up in the real world, where she and Draco were still friends and she hadn't ruined her life. But the knocking only grew louder. And then there was yelling. "Hermione, it's Ginny. I'm coming in!"

Without waiting for an answer, her friend appeared in the bedroom with a loud pop. Hermione made no effort to greet her, only lifting her pillow up to see if the intruder really was Ginny. Satisfied it wasn't an imposter, Hermione's head lolled back onto her bed.

"I came as soon as Harry told me," Ginny said from the other side of the room.

So it wasn't a nightmare. The only response Hermione could make was to curl up into the fetal position, feeling like a big baby, but not really caring. What bothered her, though, was that Ginny obviously wasn't taking the hint that she wanted to be left alone.

Her friend walked over to the bed, holding something out for Hermione to see. Somehow, she dredged up the energy to look at her. "These were outside your door," Ginny said.

It was Hermione's travel bag. And her wand.

"Malfoy must have brought them back while you were sleeping," Ginny said, putting the items down on the floor before joining her on the bed. Hermione thought about burying her head back under her pillow, but she was too irritated to do anything but glare up defiantly at her friend.

"Oh...you look awful," Ginny said, brushing the hair out of Hermione's face. "And you're burning up too."

Not exactly what Hermione wanted to hear, but she knew she looked terrible. It was the way Ginny's words were saturated with sympathy that made Hermione's stomach sink. If Ginny was showing her pity, things were really bad. Hermione laid her head back on the pillow, wiping away the tears that were silently falling down her face. She tried to stop, but then Ginny began rubbing circles on her back, and it was all she could do to keep from sobbing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ginny asked.

"What's left to say? I made an absolute fool of myself."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"You're right. It was catastrophic."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?"