Rose Among the Thorns

Chapter 22

"It was Agatha," Griffiths said as they reached the lift. "One of the new trainees tried to move the egg and Agatha charged after 'em. Charlie, bloody fool he is, knocked 'em out of the way and got hit."

"Hit?" Hermione whispered. She was trying very hard to remain composed, despite the fact that her worst nightmare was coming true.

"Her tail caught him in the back. Any higher and..." Griffiths trailed off ominously.

Hermione gasped softly and closed her eyes, barely registering the cool voice announcing the floors they were passing. "Where is he?"

"St. Mungos. We got him there fast as we could."

"Have you told his parents yet?"

"No, we thought you should be the first to know."

Although it seemed like it had been an eternity since they entered the lift, they were finally on the ground floor. Hermione walked briskly out of the lift and ran straight into her best friend.

"Hermione!" Harry cried happily, sobering quickly as he noted the look of fear on his friend's face. "What's happened?" he asked.

"Charlie's been hurt," she whispered, not daring to raise her voice. "If you could, please find Arthur and tell him to come to St. Mungo's. And Percy too." She added.

She turned to Griffiths. "Could you please go to Ottery St. Catchpole and tell Charlie's mum to come?"

"Certainly," he replied, turning and walking towards the exit.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry began as he squeezed her hand.

"We don't have time," she interrupted. "Just make sure you tell them," she said as she turned toward the wall of fireplaces.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and took a handful of Floo Powder.

"St. Mungo's," she shouted as she stepped into the emerald flames and felt the familiar 'wooshing' feeling. Seconds later she stepped out onto the hearth at the hospital and quickly approached the Welcome Witch.

"My husband's been brought in," she said hurriedly. "Can you tell me where he is?"

"Name?" the Welcome Witch asked.

"Charlie Weasley."

" First Floor, Dai Llewellyn Ward," the Welcome Witch replied. "Have a nice day."

Hermione ran, taking the stairs two at a time as she rushed up to the Ward. She burst through the doors, gasping for breath and grabbed the nearest Healer by the lapels of his lab coat.

"My...husband...Charlie...where?" she panted.

"You mean Charlie Weasley?" the Healer replied.

Hermione could only nod as she tried to catch her breath.

"He's still in with the Emergency Healers, I believe. Would you like for me to check on his progress?" the nameless Healer asked kindly.

She nodded mutely, collapsing into a nearby chair as the Healer strode down the hall. After several excruciating minutes, another Healer in blood-spattered robes emerged from a set of doors and walked toward her.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he called out as he approached her.

"Yes," she replied, but her voice came out barely louder than a whisper. She cleared her throat. "I am Hermione Granger-Weasley," she said in a stronger, clearer voice.

"I'm Healer Cohn, Chief of the Dai Llewellyn Ward. I've been treating your husband."

"How is he?"

"I'm afraid he has sustained some very serious wounds. He was hit in the back and right side by the spikes of a Welsh Green. The muscles in your husband's back have been severely torn, and he has lost a great deal of blood. If the other Keepers hadn't had such quick reactions he might not be alive..."

Hermione heard little else of Healer Cohn's description of Charlie's wounds. She suddenly realized that the blood on his robes was not from some random stranger- it was Charlie's. Charlie had almost died. She slowly sank back into her chair and closed her eyes. Scenes from the past several months flooded her mind. Charlie signing her petition. Kissing Charlie on the sofa in his old flat. Lying on the beach together on their honeymoon. The first time they made love... She felt tears begin to prick at her eyes. If Charlie died, if she lost someone else she loved, she didn't know if she could survive.

"... Mr. Weasley also received several lacerations to his face and neck from being thrown to the ground by the dragon's tail. He's very fortunate that the spikes missed his spine," Healer Cohn continued.

"When can I see him?" she interrupted with a watery voice.

Healer Cohn paused and smiled sympathetically. "He's being moved to a private room as we speak." He motioned to a Healer's Assistant who led Hermione down the corridor and opened one of the doors.

Hermione cautiously entered the hospital room, afraid of what she might find. A stocky, sheet covered man lay on his stomach in the long, narrow bed. Only a thick tuft of red hair was visible above sterile white bandages. She dropped like a stone into the chair beside his head and began to sob.

"Oh, Charlie," she wept, leaning her head against the rails of the bed.

After what seemed like years, a tentative knock on the door startled her. She hastily wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her robes.

"Hermione?" a voice called from the corridor.

"I'm here," she replied, hoping that her voice didn't sound like she had spent the last fifteen minutes sobbing her heart out.

A disheveled Mrs. Weasley, closely followed by her husband, entered the room.

"Have you spoken to the Healers yet?" Hermione asked with her back toward them, trying to regain some composure.

"He's at a high risk of infection, but they're hoping that he'll pull through," Mr. Weasley answered.

Mrs. Weasley had moved to the opposite side of the bed and began patting Charlie's hair, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

"The rest of the family's here too," Mr. Weasley whispered.

Suddenly Hermione had a strong desire to see her adopted family. She nodded, and her father-in-law led her to the waiting room.

As soon as Mr. Weasley opened the door they were barraged with questions.

"How bad is it?"

"How is he?"

"Will he be alright?"

Hermione faced a sea of red hair and concerned faces and took a deep breath. "The Healer said that he's sustained some deep wounds on his shoulder, back and side, as well as some large cuts to his neck. He's fairly stable at the moment, but still in very critical condition. Because his injuries are dragon inflicted, there is a high risk of infection, but the Healers are doing everything they can to prevent it."

The entire Weasley clan, even Fred and George, soberly processed this new information. Ginny moved forward and took Hermione's hand.

"He's going to be just fine," she said reassuringly. "Charlie's a fighter, he'll be back and under your feet in no time at all."

Hermione smiled faintly.

The family then proceeded into Charlie's room, huddled together on several squashy floor cushions Bill conjured, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione taking the seats of honor on each side of Charlie's head. No one moved for two whole days, except to visit the hospital tea shop.

Fred and George were dozing back to back, Katie and Verity were curled up next to them on the cushions. Harry and Ginny leaned against one another next to Percy and Penny. Bill and Fleur held hands and gazed out the window into the bustling street below.

Hermione has barely slept a wink for the entire time. Her hair had grown even more disheveled and unruly than usual, and her eyes had dark purple rings under them. Despite Mrs. Weasley's coaxes for her to eat, her stomach was so knotted that she knew she couldn't even keep tea down.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the sheets shift.

"I asked you to wait up, but this is ridiculous, woman," Charlie whispered.

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"I look that good, eh?" he said, his lips quirking into a lopsided smile.

"HE'S AWAKE!!!!" George bellowed at the top of his voice.

"Say it any louder and you'll wake Uncle Bilius," Charlie rasped.

The entire room erupted into jubilant cheers and laughter. George and Bill bear hugged, Fred head butted a thoroughly shocked Percy, and Ginny, Katie, Mrs. Weasley and Penny danced a jig.

No one notice Hermione sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Thank God you're all right," she whispered. "Thank God you're all right."

*****