Forbidden

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter in any way shape or form.





Chapter two: Coma



Hermione struggled to lift her head to glare at her husband. She saw the flames disappear. ‘Oh no…’ she thought.



Ron turned to her, his face turning dark with malice. “You and I are to have a quick heart to heart, wife!”



He grabbed her by her broken arm and smirked evilly as she cried out. “You came home from a meeting for work and it was dark. You hadn’t had time to clean the house and I work all day. You tripped on…” he looked around the room until he spotted a towel. “That towel, and lost your balance, falling backwards. Your arm broke when you tried to grab the banister, and the stairs must have broken your ribs.”



He stopped pacing. “Is that understood?”



Hermione glared daggers at him, “I am not going to lie for you anymore Ronald!”



“That was the wrong thing to say.” Ron grabbed a lamp on the side table next to the couch. He lifted it and hit her on the back of the head. The last thing Hermione saw before she lost consciousness was her husband’s feet, stepping up to her. “Night-night Mione.”



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Hermione heard light noise, and someone calling her name. “Hermione! Hermione!”



She struggled to find that person, locking on his voice. “Harry! Harry I’m coming, don’t go! Please, wait!”



“Let’s go Harry, she isn’t going to wake. Might as well get something to eat.” Hermione heard Ginny say.



“Yeah I guess your right…where is Ron?” Harry asked.



“He said he couldn’t bear to see Hermione like this.”



“…Come on Harry, I know you don’t want to leave Hermione in this place, but neither do I. But even so, it is very late, and the mediwitches will be going over their rounds soon. We need to go home. She wouldn’t want you to waste away here, you need a shower, and food.” Ginny pleaded. “Please…Harry…”



Harry stood and looked at Hermione once more before turning to his wife. “Your right Hun, lets go.” he stooped down and kissed Hermione’s forehead.



“Harry! Harry please, take me out of here!” Hermione struggled to call out, while her heart broke at being left alone once more.



“Hermione…”



She heard a familiar voice. The one voice she had longed to hear since that night. And she hadn’t even heard him enter the room.



“My god Hermione, what did he do to you?”



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Hermione lay in her hospital bed, with tubes in her wrists, and an iv, that floated at her bedside. She was in a hospital gown, with the sheets loosely laid over her unconscious body. The door to the room was open wide and a lone figure stood in the doorway.



“Poor hermione…” Harry said.



“What?” Ron asked.



“About Hermione…”



“Oh…yeah…the healers say they don’t know how deep a coma she is in. They have tried everything. From Enervate to magical medicines. They say she might never get out of it.”



“Ron…?” Harry said confused.



“You don’t seem to be to concerned about your wife, little brother.”



Harry and Ron turned to see Fred and George standing against the wall across them.



“Yeah, a bit too nonchalant if you ask me.” George added.



“And we for one…”



“Feel sorry for Hermione…” George added.



“Because she has to have…” Fred continued.



“A horrible…”



“uncaring…”



“potato crisp eating…”



“Prat…” George said.



“Of a husband like you.” Fred finished.



By this time Ron was very red in the face. “H-How dare you!” Ron took a threatening step toward his older brothers.



“Mr. Weasley?” a Healer asked.

The three brothers turned to her. “Yes?” they asked.



“Um…Mrs. Hermione Weasleys husband…” she continued.



George and Fred turned away, Fred with an unreadable expression on his face.



“Yes.” Ron said eying the Mediwitch hungrily, oblivious to the angry looks Fred and George were giving him. Harry seemed to either not notice, or just pretended not to.



“If I could have a word with you please?” she asked and led him away.



Harry sighed and softly spoke. “I know what it looks like.”



The twins looked at him, listening.



“I know that it may seem like Ron doesn’t care, but he really is hurting. He loves Hermione, he always has. He just has a problem showing it.” Harry said.



“Harry, I don’t know how long you are planning on denying this, but Ron doesn’t care. For one he was ogling that mediwitch like she was a new kind of cake. And for another, if Hermione fell down the stairs, why not use her wand to either stop herself or conjure up something so she wouldn’t get that hurt? Ron said that she tripped over her bath towel. Well when the mediwitchs showed up, where was it? And why was the entire room cleaned and straightened.? If it was just an ‘accident’ then I want to know Harry. Tell me why!” Fred demanded.



“I’m sorry Fred. I can’t.” Harry said as he left.



Fred stood rooted to the spot fuming. He felt a caring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get you some tea.”



Watching his brother leave, Fred glanced in on Hermione. He walked in and sat next to her.



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Deep inside her coma…



The room was dark, except for the dim light from the dying embers in the fireplace. What had possessed him to do something like this? Ron was a sweet man, well…sometimes. But he had never hit her before. All she had said was she would take a hot shower before doing the dishes. He hadn’t heard her correctly or something, because five minutes into the shower she heard him shouting about the ‘filth’ in his house.



He had ran into the room and demanded to know why she was resting when there was work to be done. She repeated what she had told him before, and he had grabbed her by the hair and drug her down the stairs and tossed her onto the kitchen floor. When she had protested his violence he had struck her twice on the face and once on the arm. Then he had demanded her to do the dishes and then get into the bed like a ‘good woman’ should.



Hermione had ran to the door, not realizing her nakedness and apperated to Number Twelve Grimmald St. Once inside she put up wards, and only then did she realize she was without clothing. She hurried up the stairs to find the closet, where she dug through old boxes and found her old sweatpants, and a top. Then she wandered back to the study, and cast Incendio on the dead coals.



As she sat alone in the large chair she had deemed hers while Sirius was alive. She had rested there for several hours before realizing she had not eaten since lunch, and was quite hungry. She made a sandwich and a steamy hot cup of tea. No sugar, the way she liked it.



There she still sat, even though it was long after midnight. She had not moved an inch since she arrived. She opened her eyes. The fire was dying. She knelt in front of the fireplace to add some wood to the heat. She started when she heard someone move behind her. Whipping out her wand she spun on her heel, pointed and shot without looking to see who it was.



“Ow!” Fred muttered. “Damn you are good.”





A/N: please review this story! =D