| Jarvey
Join Date: Feb 2011 Location: Orlando, FL
Posts: 666
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Melina Morninglory- "Glory"
Second Year |  WizWorld Universal / Tom Felton for President
Chapter 37: Repercussions
[Jean found her daughter crying in the parlor. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Is something hurting you?”
“They’re f-fighting,” sobbed Hermione. “Ron and Draco, and Harry. Over me.” She buried her face in her hands and curled up in a ball on the couch. Jean knelt down beside her, alarmed, and tried to comfort her. This was the last thing her daughter needed right now. She stayed next to Hermione and held her as she cried, just as she did when Hermione was young, after she’d accidentally knocked an egg out of a bird’s nest in their tree.
She only left Hermione’s side when she heard voices coming in from the back door. Hurrying to meet them, she clapped her hands to her mouth when she saw Draco. “Oh my God, what happened to him?” she whisper-yelled, not wanting Hermione to overhear. Kingsley’s face was somber, Arthur looked more than a little guilty, and Ginny was crying. Jean rushed to Ginny’s side as the two men began taking Draco to the parlor. She stopped them in their tracks. “Are you mad? Don’t take him in there! Do you know what that would do to Hermione?”
“Sorry, Jean,” replied Arthur contritely as he and Kingsley turned to levitate Draco up the stairs instead. Ginny put her arms around Jean and simply let it all out. She cried out all her fear and frustration at having watched the horrific fight while Jean stood and mothered her.
“Where are Harry and Ron?” she asked, terrified at the thought that they looked as bad as Draco, or worse.
“I-in the backyard,” Ginny hiccupped, and began to dry her tears on the sleeve of her shirt. Jean sat her down at the kitchen table and went to look outside. She noted that Ron looked a bit worse for wear, but Harry was in perfect condition. She felt a mother’s anger welling up inside her over what had happened to Draco. As the boys traipsed back into the house, she and Ginny glared at them. Jean didn’t trust herself to speak, so she remained silent. The boys, to their credit, looked sufficiently remorseful.
Hermione heard footsteps outside the parlor door. “Ron? Draco? Harry?” she called out, frightened to see what they all looked like. Harry and Ron stepped into the parlor. Hermione quickly looked them over. Harry didn’t have a scratch on him. Ron’ lip was split in more places than before, and the dried blood on his face complimented his broken nose. The rest of him seemed fine, but she couldn’t tell for sure. “Oh God, Ron! What happened?”
“You know what happened,” Ron replied, sounding quite apologetic.
“Where’s Draco?” she asked. She didn’t care if they liked him or not, they were going to send him into see her. She swallowed hard as Harry and Ron looked nervously at each other. When they didn’t answer, her nerves began fraying. “Where is Draco?” she asked again, fear and anger in her voice.
Ron just looked down at his feet. Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and tried to find the right words. “He’s, uh, he’s just taking care of uh, a few, minor things…”
She wasn’t buying it. “No, Harry Potter, you tell me the truth! Where is Draco? What did you do to him?” Her voice was wavering now, barely holding back a sob.
Neither boy knew how to answer her. No matter what they said, she’d be upset, and they already felt more than terrible for upsetting her in the first place.
“Ron beat the living hell out of him, that’s what he did!” The accusation came loud and sharp from Ginny’s mouth. She looked at the two boys furiously, a few tears still dribbling down her cheeks.
“Ginny!” gasped Ron. “Don’t get her upset!”
“UPSET?” cried Hermione. “Ginny, don’t get her upset?! YOU have me upset! Both of you!! How could you? How could you hurt him? He’s the reason I’m alive, you heartless idiots!” She broke down completely and Ginny rushed to her side.
“Hermione,” Harry said softly.
“NO!” she cut him off. “Get out! Get out the both of you! I can’t believe you, I can’t believe you would…oh, just get out!”
The boys left with their heads hung low.
“Ginny, is he going to be alright? I need to see him, I need to be with him!” Hermione was going into hysterics. She gripped Ginny’s arms and tried to raise herself off the couch.
Ginny held her back. “No, please, Hermione, not yet. He’s upstairs. I’ll take you myself to see him, I promise, but let him get patched up first, okay?” She held onto her best friend’s arms and gently but firmly laid her back down on the couch. Hermione simply pulled her knees up to her chest and cried.
Jean was at her side a moment later. She rubbed Hermione’s head with one hand, and Ginny’s back with the other. She would be the strong one for these girls. She’d watch over Ginny until Molly came back later in the afternoon. She kissed her daughter’s temple and whispered, “It’s going to be all right,” and hoped she was telling the truth.
****
The rest of the day was anxious and tense. Fred and George Apparated home to tell Molly what happened, and decided to stay there rather than witness what would occur when their mother got her hands on Ron. Kingsley headed back to the Ministry. Remus and Tonks had arrived, and both were enraged to hear what had occurred. Tonks rushed her cousin’s side. Molly Apparated into the Black home the moment her sons finished filling her in.
A pop was heard in the kitchen, and Molly came rushing into the parlor. Her heart sank as she saw Jean comforting two very upset young ladies. She walked over to them and Ginny stood up, throwing her arms around her mother and starting to cry again.
“It was so awful, Mummy,” she whimpered into Molly’s shoulder. Molly just held her.
“There, now, we’ll fix it, sweetheart. Where is he?” she asked.
Jean looked at her. “Ron or Draco?”
Molly’s face hardened. “I’ll deal with my son later.” Then it softened. “Right now I want to see Draco.” Jean told her where to go and she exited the parlor, her large purse clinking with potion bottles.
Hermione had fallen asleep, completely done in by the stress of the day. Ginny looked back at her, pondering what to do now.
“Go Ginny,” Jean said softly. “She’s resting now anyway. I’m going to stay here. I’ll let you know when she’s up.” Ginny nodded her head and left, plodding slowly up the stairs.
As she reached the top, she could already hear her mother saying, “Oh for Merlin’s sake, just look at the boy!” She sighed and headed for her room to lie down and shove a pillow over her head.
****
Everything hurt.
It hurt to move, it hurt to open his eyes. It hurt to breathe. He winced at the sharp pain that accompanied Molly’s mending of each bone. Every muscle in his body ached. Damn it, didn’t he just get them relaxed earlier today? His face was swollen, and he couldn’t get the coppery taste of blood out of his mouth.
Even if he could have opened his eyes, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t want to see the troubled faces of those attending to him. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to answer their questions. He just wanted to be left alone.
The only thing he thought about was Hermione. His heart sank that she must be distraught over what had happened. They really were stupid boys, just like she said. He added another apology to the already lengthy list of apologies he owed her.
He pretended to be unconscious when his cousin rubbed healing balm on his cheeks and chest. He could hear her speaking in low whispers with Molly and Remus.
“And they just let this happen?”
“Believe me, my husband has as much explaining to do as my son!”
“His body will mend, but I’m worried about the blow to his spirit. He won’t admit it, but he’s as fragile as Hermione right now. He’s been through hell and back. Mad-Eye told me everything he saw.”
A surge of anger and humiliation shot through Draco. So now Lupin knew his most private memories too? He was affronted that he couldn’t even choose to keep his own secrets. He didn’t want them knowing what it was like for him at home. His ordeal with Ron had reminded him of a time in his parlor when he was eight, and he’d lied to his dad about breaking a vase. Pinned to floor and having his face beaten. The recollection hit him, brutal and unmerciful, and his stomach lurched. He fought hard against the impulse to vomit. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was fragile right now.
Tonks’s lips were on his forehead, and she was stroking his hair. He fought with all his will not to cry in front of her. But he was so tired, and in so much pain, that he couldn’t hold back. Tears of shame and sorrow leaked from behind his closed eyelids.
“Oh! Oh, sweetheart,” she said, and gently wiped the tears from the sides of his face.
“Is he coming to?” asked Molly, returning to the bed and leaning over him. “Draco, dear, can you hear me?”
There was no point in pretending now. He squinted at the light as he opened his eyes and immediately looked away from them. He’d salvage whatever scrap of dignity he had left. “I just want to be alone,” he whispered, the strain of talking hurting his head.
The women fussed over him, insisting that they stay and help him. But Remus, from a man’s perspective, understood. “Let’s just give him a bit of time to himself; he’s earned it.” He ushered Molly and his wife out of the room and quietly closed the door behind them. Draco’s tears were now of gratefulness.
****
Shouting could be heard in some of the bedrooms upstairs during the afternoon. Ginny and Harry, Molly, Ron and Arthur were having it out over the events of the day. Harry was furious with Ginny for sticking up for Malfoy; Ginny was enraged that Harry could be so insensitive. Molly was reading the riot act to her son and husband, who knew from experience to just shut their mouths and take their punishment.
Hermione was blissfully asleep through it all. Tom had returned from work, and he and Jean sat in the parlor, drinking tea and listening to the row upstairs. They stared at their baby girl, feeling only tenderness and love and, above all, thankfulness that she was with them again. Jean couldn’t stop thanking God; she prayed over and over, pouring out her gratitude and love for the Creator who protected her little girl from death. Tom fretted over Hermione’s delicate state, but couldn’t help but be proud of how strong she was through it all. They turned to the doorway and welcomed Tonks and Remus to join them.
It was already evening when Hermione awakened. Jean fixed her a plate of chicken and potatoes and brought her some hot chamomile tea. Hermione sipped it slowly, letting the herbed liquid soothe her. After she’d eaten, she turned to her parents. “I want to see Draco now.”
Her parents looked at Remus and Tonks. Remus answered. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Hermione. He took a few serious blows out there. He needs his rest and you do not need to be more upset.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she replied. “But I’m only going to be more upset imagining what happened to him than if I saw him with my own eyes. I won’t disturb him, I promise. I just need to see him.” The adults gave her a cautious nod of approval, and Tom helped her up the stairs.
She wasn’t prepared for what she saw when the door opened. A cry caught in her throat as she looked at him. He looked worse than terrible. His bare chest was wrapped tightly with bandages around his ribcage, and his lip was cut and badly swollen. His head was bandaged as well, and bruises covered every inch of what she could see of him. She was…there were no words for how she felt.
She rushed to the side of his bed and climbed in, wrapping her arms around him carefully and letting her tears fall on his shoulder. “I’m staying right here,” she announced.
Tom began to protest, but Jean placed her hand on his arm. “They need each other right now.” The adults quietly left them alone.
In the end, Hermione did leave him but only briefly. She hadn’t had a chance to bathe since she arrived the day before. Once she was clean, she snuggled back next to him. He felt her there, smelled her, and hoped to heaven he wasn’t dreaming. He slowly opened his eyes and his pain dissolved at the sight of her. “You’re really here,” he said simply.
She nodded into his shoulder. “Yes, I’m right here.” She kissed his collarbone and squeezed him just a tiny bit tighter.
He kissed the top of her head, not caring that the action shot pain through his lips. Just to spite the pain, he kissed her again and again.
“Stay with me,” he whispered.
“I will,” she whispered back.
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Last edited by steflegan; 09-18-2011 at 09:21 PM.
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