If This Were A Normal Day...

Yea, yea, I don’t own Harry Potter. Rub it in, why dontcha? Buttholes!
Chapter 17
Forgivness

Ron turned and exited the common room silently. The images of what he had just witnessed were burned into his brain.

He had come with all intentions of trying once again to apologize, only to bear witness to an event that made his stomach twist up in knots and his eyes feel like they were going to bleed.

Malfoy with his Hermione bent over the couch, going at it.

“No,” he thought. “She\'s not my Hermione...She doesn‘t belong to me.”

The scene in the common room had just proved that.

He too, had watched every move Hermione made. He had watched her lean her head back and sigh, smiling slightly as she and Draco had made love.

“She didn’t look like that when we made love...” he thought. “But we didn’t make love. I hurt her...I love her so much.......and I hurt her in the worst way I anyone ever could.”

His eyes brimmed with hot tears and he felt nauseous.

Ron stepped into Gryffindor Tower and slipped into the bathroom unnoticed.

He had heard Lavender many times proclaiming her devotion to the muggle-way of shaving to Parvati many times.

He sorted underneath the sink and came up with a pink disposable razor with daisies on the handle.

He threw it on the ground and stomped it, breaking the blade free, before sinking to the floor and picking it up.

He looked at the large throbbing vein in his wrist and made a clean, vertical slit downward. There was a stinging pain in his arm, but he didn’t stop. He cut again and again and again. The blood flowed freely down his arms and over his clothes.

He rolled up his other sleeve and repeated the process, only not as neatly this time. The hot blood over his hands made the blade slippery and his head was beginning to swim.

He let the blade drop to the floor and starred blankly at the wall. He let his mind drift back to the fun times they had had at The Burrow. He could see her so clearly. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were rosy...and she was smiling at him.

His thoughts were becoming more and more foggy and the happy image of Hermione was blurring.

“It’s so cold...” he thought to himself. His insides felt like ice.

Then, there was a new image. It was Harry...and he was screaming in slow motion.

“Ron!” he called, deep and drawn out. “Ginny! Get help!”

He seen that Harry’s hands were on his arms, but he couldn’t feel them.

His eyelids felt heavy...and then there was nothing.


Draco and Hermione were roused by loud crying and banging on the common room portrait.

Hermione recognized the terrified voice of Ginny echoing from the hallway.

She immediately sprang forward, adjusting her clothing along the way, and jerked open the door.

Hermione was horrified. There stood Ginny sobbing, shaking, and covered in blood.

“Ginny!” Hermione shrieked, taking hold of the hysterical girl. “Are you hurt?! What happened?!”

She scanned her and quickly realized the blood was not Ginny’s.

“What happened?!” She cried seizing Ginny by the shoulders.

Her mouth bobbed as she tried to word a sentence. She absently pointed down the hall.

“Its......its everywhere!” she shrieked. “Ron!......”

She once again broke into sobs.

“What about Ron?” Hermione asked, wide-eyed.

Draco had rose from the couch and joined the scene by now.

“He’s been taking to St. Mungo’s...” she managed to choke out. “He tried to kill himself.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny, placing her head against hers and began to softly cry with her.

“We have a pass to go to St. Mungo’s with him. Harry’s already gone. Dumbledore is setting up the portkey now. If you want to come, come now.”

Hermione’s head sprang up.

“Do I want to go?” her mind asked.

She glanced at Draco. He was silent and was wearing an unreadable expression.

“Yes, you do.” her mind responded to her.

“Go ahead, I’ll be there in a moment.” she responded to Ginny, giving her a gentle push toward the door.

Once Ginny had disappeared, Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t start...” Hermione began.

“You can’t be serious!” Draco cried.

“Draco he could die!” Hermione responded, trying to keep her voice as calm and level as possible while throwing her duster on over her pajamas.

“Yea, and do the world a favor.” Draco sneered.

Hermione got very close to Draco.

“As much as you hate her, if it were Pansy, would you go?” she questioned. “If you tell me no, I’ll take off this jacket, sit back down on the couch, and pretend it never happened.”

He had never considered this.

Draco sighed deeply, before kissing her forehead.

“Go.” he said softly.

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss before practically sprinting to the headmaster’s office. Professor McGonagall was waiting there for her.

“Go ahead.” was all she said, placing a reassuring hand on Hermione’s shoulder and trying to bite back what she was sure was tears.

Hermione nodded.

When Hermione entered the office, Ginny stood with her arms wrapped around herself, shaking. She immediately wrapped her arms around the younger girl in an attempt to comfort her.

“It’s ready.” Dumbledore stated.

“Good luck.” was all he said before handing the girls a small stuffed purple elephant.

Hermione looked it curiously before feeling the familiar feeling of being jerked forward.

They landed in the cold, bright white lobby of St. Mungo’s and looked around.

Hermione quickly scanned the Hospital Directory and

established which floor they should head to and began to jog in that direction with Ginny hot on her heels.

After bursting through several sets of double doors, they arrived in a rather homey looking waiting room. There were large, over stuffed plaid sofas lining the wall. There were multiple moving portraits of wildlife and baskets of fruit hanging on the walls.

Seated on one of the sofa’s, crying into a polka-dotted handkerchief and being comforted by Harry, was Mrs. Weasley.

Her eyes were swollen and wet and she was mumbling something into her hands.

Hermione’s heart felt as though it were being twisted. She loved Mrs. Weasley and hated seeing her in this condition.

Ginny rushed to her mother and flung her arms around her.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her own sobs.

She wiped at her eyes, before taking a seat on one of the couches.

Harry’s head raised and he looked her. It was a stare mixed with so many emotions. Regret, guilt, sorrow, and pain. It was a look of worry and apology.

Hermione nodded slightly and he turned his eyes back to Mrs. Weasley.

She leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. Her mind was a mixed up jumble of thoughts.

She was angry with Ron....but she really didn’t want him to die. There was an immense feeling of guilt made her stomach turn over and over, but then again, she knew she wasn’t responsible. Her head was spinning on the inside.

Almost 2 hours passed before a short, brown haired medi-witch in a white uniform entered the waiting room, informing them it was alright to go back and see him.

Harry helped Mrs. Weasley to her feet and they all filed down a long, painfully white corridor.

They stopped outside a large door with the numbers 594 on it. Underneath, written on a chart along with other scratchy hand writing Hermione couldn’t make out, was the name Ronald Weasley.

Harry ushered Mrs. Weasley in first with she and Ginny taking up the rear. She peered around the group to sneak a look at Ron.

Her hand immediately clasped over her mouth to repress her sobs. Ron was lying on a bed, heavy blood speckled bandages around his arms. His eyes were closed and his face was pale.

His mother rushed over to his bed and buried her face in Ron’s hair, sobbing loudly.

Ron stirred and his eyes blinked open. He scanned the room, his eyes lighting on his mother, Harry, Ginny, and then Hermione.

He didn’t speak, just stared at her with large tears forming in his eyes.

Hermione watched him close them again.

His mother had her arms wound tightly around him. Hermione watched him wiggle uncomfortably.

She half-smiled to herself, reminded of Pansy attaching herself Draco.

“Your father will be here soon.” she heard Mrs. Weasley whisper to Ron.

“I can’t breathe.” Ron choked out.

Mrs. Weasley’s head snapped up and she reluctantly released her son.

She took a seat next to his bed and carefully took his hand.

There were many more moments of silence. Hermione noticed that he periodically sneaked a glance at her, before looking away and blinking back tears.

They silence was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Weasley. His face was sat hard, but lined with worry at the sight of his son.

He joined his wife, by his son’s bed and took her other hand.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat and give Ron a little time to rest?” he asked.

She immediately shook her head no, but was pulled toward the door.

Harry and Ginny rose and followed, but Hermione lingered behind.

She stepped over to the edge of Ron’s bed and stared down at him.

He looked back at her and for the first time, she seen Ron. Not the monster he had become, but the actual Ron looked back at her.

She broke into sobs and seized him about the neck as his mother had done earlier. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her chest as she cried into his hair.

“I’m sorry...” he choked out softly.

Hermione wiped her eyes and loosened her grip on him, but didn’t take her arms away.

“It’s not okay,” she whispered. “But I have a feeling its going to be.”