Dramatis Personae

A/N: I apologize for the long wait. I have been having roommate issues (well, not the roommate herself, but her friends are loud and intrusive during study-time). And this one's kind of short. I realize and apologize again, but I like where I ended it. The next couple of sections after this chapter are more cheerful, so it didn't seem right to try and add it onto the end of this one, which is angsty.

Anyhow, yes, I have read HBP (I finished it at about noon the day it came out) and yes, I absolutely loved it. Unfortunately, NO, the story is not yet HBP-compliant, per se, but nothing important seems to have been affected, so I might go back and fix the details so that it can BECOME compliant. In any case, a warning from this point onwards: there WILL be spoilers. Probably serious ones, of the "who-died-and-who-killed-him/her" variety. So beware. Now READ, Read as you have Never Read Before!

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Chapter 9

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Ginny leaned back in her uncomfortable chair, gazing desperately upon her unconscious best friend. He hadn't stirred even slightly since she had arrived. She rubbed her sore, still-burnt right arm through the cotton sling holding it up and the thick orange-tinged gauze wrapped around it. She had another rather similar gauze patch taped to the side of her face and forehead. Colin, Ginny could see, was also wearing a number of the burn-treating bandages.

She leaned forward again and took Colin's left hand in hers. She placed a gentle kiss on his head and then another on the hand she held. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, holding back the sudden tears she could feel coming. She took a deep breath before she was willing to open her eyes again.

She pushed a few strands of Colin's mixed blonde hair behind his ear. "Hey doll," she said at last. "I know you probably can't hear me, what with your brain trying to fix itself after that nasty concussion you got, but I'm going to stay for a chat anyway. I know that when you wake up you're probably going to make fun of me for being such an emotional sop, but it makes me feel better, so the hell with what you think."

She took another deep, level breath. "So, you're probably wondering what's going on, huh? I don't blame you. Things are pretty hectic at the moment. The only reason I'm not being ordered to go to work as we speak is because the Healers have refused to let the Ministry order anybody into work today who's been treated for any injuries received at the Summit bombing. Shoal's getting desperate, too. They're trying to make sure every single Ministry worker who's still... available..." she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "is going to work. We're kind of short-handed at the moment. We...we lost a lot of good people, Col. And we still don't really understand what happened."

Ginny chuckled darkly to herself. "Well, I mean, we understand the fact that somebody set a bunch of bombs and then they blew up and a couple hundred people were killed. But they don't know who did it, or why. Not yet anyway." She sighed and stroked Colin's cheek. "They're working on it. I'm going in tomorrow to help, because they need people like you and me helping out. Mum's violently opposed to me going back in so soon, but you know Mum."

Ginny glanced down at the hand that lay so limply within her grasp. Her gaze traveled unwillingly to the thick, sterile bandages around her best friend's head, and then to the indentations in his sheets, which she knew, though she couldn't see it, was the body brace he was laying in. She gulped back the sob she could feel forming in her throat, but she was unable to stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. Her hand remained firmly clenched around Colin's. Her shoulders shook silently as she struggled to hold her feelings in.

A couple of minutes later, after she had gotten a hold of herself, Ginny heard a soft knock on the door. She stood quietly and turned around to meet Dennis Creevey's rather shiny-looking eyes. He lingered in the doorway and attempted to smile encouragingly while she tried to dry her eyes, but both of their efforts came up somewhat lacking. Dennis stepped into the room and reached to give Ginny a tight hug, which she readily returned.

"Dougie's here," Dennis said after a while. "They just released him. He must have took a nasty blow to the head or something like that because he doesn't remember anything about the explosion, but apart from that he's okay. He's waiting outside. He didn't want to interrupt you." Ginny nodded in understanding.

"That's sweet of him."

Dennis gnawed thoughtfully on his lip. "Yeah." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "So, how's Col doing? Any improvement?" Ginny shook her head, still trying to discreetly wipe her eyes.

"No." Dennis frowned and nodded grimly.

"Okay," he replied. He shifted uneasily back on forth on the balls of his feet. "You almost done, Ginny-Bean? Only I think Dougie wants a bit of privacy. Of course, if you want more time, he said he doesn't mind waiting some more--"

Ginny shook her head quickly and, diverting her eyes away from Colin, picked her cloak up off the back of her God-awful chair. She shoved it haphazardly into her over-sized shoulder bag, because it was still as hot as the dickens outside and she knew she wouldn't be using it.

"It's fine," she said. "I was planning to go see Hermione in a bit anyway. See how she's doing." Dennis nodded in understanding and walked with her to the door. Ginny saw Dougie look up at them as they came out and she attempted to give him a small smile. She knew her effort had failed badly and felt slightly sorry for that because, if anyone looked as miserable as Ginny felt at that moment, it was Douglas Kibble.

"Hey Ginny," he greeted, his tone soft and hesitant.

She put a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment, in an effort to give him some support. He patted her hand gently and then pulled away and proceeded into Colin's room. When the door quietly clicked closed behind him, Ginny brought her hand up to her face.

She felt the tears come again, coursing down her face, felt when Dennis wrapped an arm around her. She felt the slight tremor from him as he held back a quiet sob of his own. After a few moments, during which she tried once more to pull herself together, she turned around to face her best friend's only brother and pulled him into her. Despite the fact that he normally towered over her, Dennis managed to bury his face in the side of her neck, while she, her cheeks still damp, stroked his hair soothingly.

"We're going to find whoever did this," she promised brokenly. "And Dennis, I swear that we'll make them pay for it."

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Hermione stirred slightly when Ron sat down beside her on the hospital bed. He brushed a few loose strands of hair off of her forehead and kissed her gently. Her eyes drifted open and he smiled softly. She didn't smile back.

Her eyes were blood-stained and red-rimmed, and when she focused on him, her face crumbled and she looked away from him. It took Ron a minute, but then he realized that the healers must have already told her about the baby. He took hold of her chin and slowly brought her reluctant face back in his direction.

"Mione, it's okay. I know about the baby. I was going to tell you today, now that you're coherent again, but I guess some healer beat me to it." A few tears slipped down her face and she closed her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she whispered. "I know how much you want children." Ron's brow furrowed and he frowned.

He pulled her close and carefully wrapped his arms around her. "No, no, no, love. Don't be sorry. This is NOT your fault. There's nothing you could have done, you didn't know some fuckwit was going to play muggle terrorist on us." He kissed her forehead and rocked her trembling frame gently.

"Baby, don't you dare blame yourself for this. I mean, sure, I want kids--someday. It doesn't have to be now. The most important thing to me about having children was that it would be with you."

Hermione buried her face in Ron's shoulder, sobbing quietly. "I love you," he murmured in her hair. "I'm right here and I love you and I will always be here whenever you need me."

She continued to cling to him for another few minutes, teeth clenched, just trying to let out all of her sadness and anger at the world. His shoulder was more than a bit damp and when she finally raised herself away from him, Hermione grimaced in mild disgust at herself and grabbed a tissue off of her bedside table and made an attempt to dry off his shirt. She was still crying as she did this because Ron could see the tears continuing their trek down her face, but she was silent, shuddering slightly once in a while, but giving no other outward signs of her continued inner turmoil.

He kept one arm around her and stroked her back. "You are allowed to be upset, Hermione. You're allowed to be furious and heartbroken and as vengeful as you like." He ran his fingers gently through her hair. "I know that I, for one, plan to find these fuckers and kill them dead. A hundred times over, slowly and painfully."

She nodded and kissed him chastely, again not meeting his eyes. "You do that. And if there's any possible way from you to arrange it, let me know when it's going to happen so that I can watch."

Before Ron could reply to the ferocity in her voice, there was a knock on the door. One of the many nameless Healers who had been fluttering busily around the hospital for the past two days poked his head inside.

"Hello, Miss Granger. How are we feeling this afternoon, hmm?"

Hermione wiped her eyes and nose with another tissue from her bedside table and hiccupped. "I feel less like a Mack truck just ran directly over my head than I did earlier today."

The Healer nodded and scribbled something on the clipboard he was carrying while Ron wondered vaguely what a Mack truck was. "Well, if it's okay with you, Miss, I'd like to perform a follow-up physical exam to check and make sure everything is still fixed up properly and whatnot."

Hermione nodded her head once in assent and leaned back into her pillows. The Healer examined his clipboard again before realizing that Ron was still there. He turned and regarded him quizzically. "Excuse me, Mr..."

"Weasley. I'm Hermione's fiancé."

"Ah." The tone in his voice made Ron's brow furrow and he attempted to more closely examine the wizard's face while trying not to look like he was doing it. However, he was only able to hold his gaze for a few moments before he was forced to look away. The disapproving look on the older man's face made it quite clear that he could tell who had fathered Hermione's illegitimate, unborn child. Ron squirmed uncomfortably.

"Well, Mr. Weasley," the Healer continued after a moment, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the duration of the examination. It's somewhat intrusive and it can make the patient uncomfortable when someone else is here during this kind of procedure, even if it is someone they trust. It also takes a while and Miss Granger will probably fall asleep soon afterwards, so perhaps you have something else that you need to be doing at this time, at home or maybe at work?"

The look the Healer gave him was probably the most condescending look anyone had given him in nearly ten years. It irritated Ron that this complete stranger believed that he could get away with treating him like a child and he bristled mentally.

However, loathe as he was to admit it, Ron did have rather important business he had to attend to. He hadn't made it to Lupin's yet, and it was rather urgent for him to attend to the whole Deputy issue. The Department had forwarded three owls to him so far today, carrying several messages each from the Heads of other departments and from Minister Shoal. He had to employ a Senior Deputy NOW, and then he had to settle himself down into his shiny new office at the Ministry until they could figure out just what the hell had happened to cause the Summit bombing.

Still unwilling to tell the rude Healer that he was right, Ron ignored him and leaned down to kiss Hermione on the forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he murmured against her skin. She only nodded, no emotion showing in her eyes.

"Alright."

Despairing at how cold she was acting, Ron tucked a lock of curly hair behind her ear. "I love you," he said after a while. Hermione looked away from him, sniffling and didn't say a word in reply.

The Healer cleared his throat impatiently. Ron threw him a quick, icy glare and grabbed his bag off of the floor. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going," he muttered, standing and walking to the door. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

The Healer's nose wrinkled slightly in indignation as Ron left. He sniffed and watched the redhead close the door behind him before he turned back to his patient. Ron glanced back at Hermione one last time through the pane of glass in the door. Hermione met his eyes for half a second before looking away again. Ron sighed and walked down the hall.

"Now, Miss Granger," the Healer began.