The pristine white of the walls and the antiseptic smell made Hermione nauseous as soon as she waked through the front doors of St. Mungo's. She had to swallow back her urge to vomit as she hurried to the desk and choked out the name "Weasley" to the snooty girl who eyed her with distaste.
"Third floor," the girl said, snapping her gum. "Critical Care."
"Thanks." Hermione would have snarled at the stupid bint's total lack of compassion, but she honestly felt that if she spoke with too much conviction she might hurl all over the place, and that would just not do.
Weak-kneed, Hermione climbed the three flights of stairs and then hurried down another hallway. She knew it was bad. Of course she knew. No on in their right mind would call her out of a court room if it wasn't bad. But she really didn't know how bad it was.
No. She really didn't. Not until she came upon all the Weasleys. Every single one of them, crying together in a huddle around a bed.
Mrs. Weasley met her first. Pulling her into her arms and sighing out her name. That's when she lost it. The tears that had been threatening to burst out of her finally fell in a torrent against Molly's shoulder.
She pulled herself as gently as she could away from Molly's embrace, and then pushed through the rest of the Weasleys to get to the one on the bed.
"Ron?" she sobbed, collapsing next to him and taking his hand in an iron grip.
"Hi, baby," he said weakly, lifting his free hand to touch her face. She clutched that hand too, searching his face desperately for a sign that he was okay. But he was too pale, his forehead sweaty, and there were bandages, stained red with blood, crisscrossed around his chest.
"What happened to you?" She brushed back his hair, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.
"It was an accident, love," Ron said quietly, grimacing as he coughed. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the red splotches on his bandages doubled in size. It took everything she had not to break apart, but she knew that she wasn't doing a very good job of holding it together.
"W-what kind of a-accident?" She clutched his hand tighter, viciously possessive as a nurse came in and tapped Molly on the shoulder.
"It's nothing you need to worry about, Hermione." She choked on another sob as he said her name.
"But, Ron, they s-s-said—" she couldn't get the words out, but Ron's eyes took on a look of determination and he pulled Hermione down to him to look her fiercely in the eyes.
"Listen to me, Hermione," he said with conviction. "You need to understand that there was nothing anyone could do. You musn't blame them, and you certainly cannot give up when I'm not there."
"Ron!" She couldn't keep the anger out of her voice.
"No!" he growled, fisting her hair. "You need to start seeing the reality. It-it's hard for me, okay? You can't imagine what I'm going through, knowing that I won't be there for you tomorrow." He raised his voice over her protest, "but you can't let my absence affect you, do you understand? Don't you dare give up!"
"S-stop talking like that!" She tried to pull away from him, angry for speaking to her as if he had accepted his death, just like that, but he held her still, softening his touch and his expression.
"I love you," he whispered, relaxing slightly. "More than anything."
"I love you, too, Ron," she sobbed back. "More than the world." And then she kissed him, because she didn't know what else to do. And he kissed her back, but it wasn't with a lot of energy, and soon she had to pull away because she couldn't breathe with the emotion clogging her throat.
She gazed at him, still clutching his hand.
"Promise me you won't give up," he whispered, his grip on her hand weakening. "Promise me you will find happiness."
"Ron, I c-can't—"
"Please." The defeat in his voice slashed through her chest.
"I p-promise."
He gave her a very weak smile and relaxed fully into the pillows.
"I love you, Hermione," he said again. "And I will always be with you. Always."
Hermione nodded, opening her mouth to tell him that she knew, but that he couldn't give up, but Ron closed his eyes and didn't open them.
"Ron?" His grip loosened on hers, and he took one shuddering breath, and then was still. "Ron?!"
Her shrill, panicked voice drew the attention of the nurses, and then an alarm began sounding throughout the hospital.
"No! No, no, no!" She fought against a dozen hands that attempted to pull her from the room. "No! Ron!"
"Hermione," a voice sounded to her right. "Hermione, come on."
"NO!" she was hysterical now, thrashing against the people restraining her and wondering why there weren't ten more doctors rushing around trying to revive her Ron. "I-I'm not leaving!"
"He's gone, Hermione." She whirled around, ready to break someone, but Ginny pulled her into her arms. "He's gone, Hermione. I'm so sorry."
Hermione shook her head. No. No, he couldn't be gone. He had promised her that he would always be here! Always!
She looked up to watch one of the doctors touch Molly on her shoulder. But whatever hope Hermione had had that they would be able to save Ron was completely destroyed as Molly let out a heartbreaking wail. The pain was instantaneous, coursing through her to the point where she couldn't breathe, and the room was feeling claustrophobic.
Feeling more broken than she ever had before, Hermione tore herself from Ginny and went sprinting out the door. She couldn't handle this. Not like this. Even though there was a dozen people calling her name, she didn't stop until she was out in the crowded London street.
.~*``*~. .~*``*~. .~*``*~.
Draco swallowed thickly as he watched the Weasleys crowd into the small room. This was possibly the worst day of his life.
He shifted his eyes to Harry and swallowed again. It was an even worse day for him. And the fact that he had to re-live it to the Aurors…that was the worst part.
"There was so much smoke, and people everywhere," Harry was saying, his voice shaking and his eyes red. "Someone tripped and fell into me, but I'd already said the spell, and…."
"And it went awry," Jackson said gently.
Harry nodded, more tears building in his eyes. Draco turned away, feeling uncomfortable. It was his fault, really. He had yanked Frisha out of the way and the boy had fell right into Harry, and from that second, the whole mission had been over. Failed. And life as they knew it was over.
A movement ahead caught his attention, and his chest constricted painfully. Hermione. This was not good. He took a step towards her, to intercept her, to prevent her from feeling the hurt that was going to happen to her, but Molly beat him to it, and then he was hopeless to help her as she pushed into the room.
He sighed and returned to the conversation with the Aurors.
"Listen," Bryers was saying. "Don't worry too much about it. We all know it was an accident, and no one is going to put you at fault. The investigation is just for legal purposes. It's going to be okay, Harry."
"It doesn't feel that way." He exchanged a look with Draco. "It is my fault."
"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine," Draco replied sadly. It was eating him, knowing that he'd caused this mess. Hermione would never forgive them, and the both of them would be without a family for the rest of their miserable lives.
Harry shook his head. "You were only doing your job. I was being stupid and reckless."
"Stop it," Jackson admonished, patting them both on the shoulder. "It was no one's fault. Don't blame yourselves, alright?"
"Easier said than done, Jack."
Jackson frowned. "I know. Listen, boys. Go home, take a shower, and relax a little. Regroup and come back on Monday."
"Okay," Harry said sadly, but Draco wasn't really listening. Hermione had just run from the room, and Molly was sobbing loudly. Harry looked like he was going to be sick.
"I'll go," Draco said softly. He pushed Harry towards the room, nodded to his colleagues, and then followed Hermione out of the hospital.
He didn't rush. He knew what it felt like to lose someone, and he understood her more than anyone else he knew. If he caught her too soon, it would be worse.
It was crowded in London today. The annual Chelsea Flower Festival was raging near the Royal Hospital, and it drew thousands of tourists to London every year. It was difficult to follow her, but the wizard robes stood out among the other Londoners, and he could always find her quickly if he lost sight of her.
She ended up in the gardens, smoothly moving between all the people. He tailed as closely as he could, fluidly slipping through the crowd until she ducked through one of the exhibits. He thought that, maybe, that was a bad idea, but he followed her anyway, ignoring the affronted looks of some of the tourists.
Hermione hurried around the square pool, trailing a hand against the hedgerow, before she disappeared behind the small gazebo at the back of the plot. Draco sighed. Either she knew where she was going, or she was just attempting to make someone mad.
However, he decided she did know, because behind the back hedge, there was a small door in the fence and she went through it without hesitating. Draco paused after going through the gate, casting a few choice spells to repel all the Muggles and to muffle any sort of shouting that might follow his speaking to her.
She was sitting on a low stone bench. All around them were tall hedges covered with flowers. Purple and white hibiscus bloomed in one solid wall while yellow trumpet vine garnished the low fence that ran along the inside of the courtyard. He could see why she had picked this place. It was beautiful and quiet.
There were many ways that he could approach her, but he settled for the simplest. He slowly made his way to the bench and sat down next to her. On most days, he would have sat so close that they were touching but knowing her like he did, today he kept his distance.
He didn't look at her, instead he stared at the wall of flowers like she was.
"You know," he said quietly. "Fairies love this festival. They come to vacation in all of the exhibits. They especially love trumpet vine. And hibiscus. I bet there are hundreds of them right now."
He watched her nod out of the corner of his eye. "Yes, I knew that."
"Mm," he hummed softly. "They are notoriously compassionate."
"Yes, I know." He turned to her then, feeling his heart break as he really took a good look at her. Her face was red and streaked with tears.
"Is that why you came here?" She shrugged, but he knew by the catch in her breathing that it was. "Would you rather I leave?"
"No." She shook her head with conviction and reached out a hand to clutch at his arm. "No, don't go."
"I'm not going anywhere, Hermione," he said. Her whole body shuddered for a moment and then she launched herself into his arms. Great, heaving sobs racked her body as she hid her face in his neck.
"Shh, love," he soothed, softly stroking her hair. "Shh." He wish that he could say that it would be okay. It would be, eventually, but that was not something that she needed to hear right now.
"H-how can he b-be g-gone? How c-could that h-happen? With y-you and H-Harry with him, h-he should have been f-fine!"
Draco swallowed hard and clutched her closer.
"Oh, honey," he whispered into her hair. "We did everything we could. There wasn't anything anyone could do, and you can't imagine how Harry feels…."
"How H-Harry feels?" She pulled away from him, wiping viciously at her face. "How Harry feels?! He wasn't the one m-marrying Ron! He wasn't the one who l-lost someone they l-loved!"
Her anger surprised him, though not for the reason he expected. She wasn't angry at Harry, she was angry at him, for suggesting Harry was upset. What was he missing?
"He lost a best friend today, too, Hermione," he said gently, grasping her arms tightly to keep her from bolting away from him. "He feels so bad that he threw up as soon as it happened, Hermione. He didn't mean to hit him, and you can't imagine what he's feeling now that—"
"What?" The abrupt change in her tone made him feel sick. Oh, no. What had he done? "Harry did it? Harry cursed Ron?"
"It was an accident, Hermione." He should have just left well enough alone.
"You're telling me that Ron is—is dead, because of Harry?!" She clapped a hand over her mouth, breathing heavily. "Oh my god," she whispered, panting now. "Oh my god, Ron is dead. Dead, not here, he's d-d-dead. Oh my god."
He pulled her back to him, holding her as tightly to him as he could as she wailed into his chest. Jesus Christ, this hurt. He'd never seen Hermione like this. Not ever. She never cried. Even after the war and all the funerals, he'd never seen her cry.
"Shh," he whispered again. Feeling lost, he didn't know what to do, so only held her close until she had calmed down a little.
"Draco," she asked sometime later. His shirt was soaked and her voice was muffled against his neck.
"Hmm?"
"Will you take me home?"
"Of course, baby. Anything you want."
"Okay," she sighed, pulling away slightly. She began to walk away, back towards the gate, his hand clasped tightly in hers, but he pulled her back. She looked at him questioningly, her face drawn tight in hurt and exhaustion.
"I think you have made some friends," he said softly. "It wouldn't be polite to leave without saying hello."
Her expression of confusion grew until he pointed to the fence row. There were hundreds of fairies there, watching them. Several were crying too, and a few of them were huddled together, sobbing into each other's embraces.
She moved closer to him, leaning into his side, and then she shyly waved. As if her acknowledgement was an invitation, a small group of them rose into the air and flew towards them. Strung between them was a pretty wreath of the yellow trumpet vine. They draped it carefully over Hermione's hair and peppered her face with kisses.
One little one, a teenager, by any indication, landed lightly on Draco's arm to whisper into her ear, and she laughed. What a sight for sore eyes, to see her laugh.
"Thank you, Brokk," she said gently, lifting her hand to allow him to stand on it. "I shall keep that in mind." The little fairy giggled and then hovered in front of Draco.
"Keep her safe," he said shrilly. "She is yours to protect."
"Yes, I know," Draco replied. Brokk nodded, kissed Hermione on the tip of her nose, and flew back to his friends. Collectively the fairies gave them a spectacular good-bye, giving them a rare treat when they began to sing. It wasn't often that fairies honored humans with their voices.
"Take me home, Draco," she whispered softly.
"Of course, love," he answered gently, pulling her close to him. He gave the fairies one last look of gratitude, and then apparated them safely away.
A/N: Hey, everyone. I recently got this idea for a story, and I had to write it down. I realize that it's been a while since I've updated Dark Passion Play, but I'm working on a new update. I'm looking for a beta, if anyone is interested, that could help motivate me and who would be willing to help me work out a few plot points to make the stories go smoothing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Second Chances! I'll commit to the same deal as Dark Passion Play, anyone who reviews this story will get a story read and reviewed by me. I'm a little behind, but I'm working on it. So, please review!