Lost

Chapter Two

Hermione groaned and pulled the blankets up over her head as sunlight hit her eyes. She sighed, feeling warm arms wrapped around her waist, and suddenly the events of the previous night floated back into her thoughts. She shuddered and yet again managed to pull the blankets further over her head, like a child trying to protect themselves from the monsters that came out after bedtime.

She felt George's fingers brush her bare stomach, which was caused by her short tank top, and she shivered. She was sure that when she had fallen asleep that they had been in separate beds. She took a moment to survey their bodies, thinking that this simple action would make her forget about Neville. Their feet were tangled together, and she could feel the heat that radiated from him, this made her extremely uncomfortable, but at the same time safe. She groaned again and rolled over so her head could lean on his chest.

Her cheeks were stiff from crying, and the fact that she was once again crying didn't help, especially since her tears were falling against his chest. George opened his eyes as he felt water hitting his chest and stomach. He looked down his nose at Hermione, who was once again crying.

"Don't cry," he whispered, making her flinch neurotically.

"I c-can't h-help it," she sobbed.

Suddenly Madame Promfrey's voice broke through their conversation, and Hermione quieted. Promfrey's voice sounded both weak and disturbed, it occurred to them that the teachers hadn't come into the infirmary yet.

"Minerva, I'm afraid that Miss Granger is taking this badly. I would as well, had I gone into my common room and found someone who had shot himself." Her voice seemed to deepen as she said the last few words.

"Poppy, what am I supposed to do, I'm not about to ask one of the brightest students that Hogwarts has ever seen to leave! Besides, she's had to deal with much harder things in her time, I'm sure that after time things will heal."

They heard Madame Promfrey sigh, "Please, just take it easy on them, both of them. I can't say that I've ever seen George Weasley cry before. He may be a prankster but he has to deal with it too, so don't be overly hard on him."

McGonagall's stern voice seemed to grow soft for a second or two, "I can't say that I will let them off the hook for everything, but I'm not cold-hearted, I can obviously see that it hit them hardest."

Hermione looked up at George and he put a finger to his lips telling her to stay quiet, it seemed that the teachers thought that they were still asleep. She nodded and settled her head back against his bare chest.

They heard the door to the Infirmary open and close, and a loud squeak from the teachers. "What on earth are they doing," Madame Promfrey hissed.

McGonagall took this trivial point to do exactly what Madam Promfrey suggested. "Give them a break Poppy, they found another student dead in their common room. My question is how did they fit on these tiny beds?"

This comment caused Poppy to squeak again. "What on earth do you mean by that?"

"Excuse me," McGonagall said sternly, "would you two please get up, it's almost ten, and everyone is gathering in the great hall to discuss what happened last night."

Hermione stretched and peeked her head out from beneath the blankets, "We are up," she announced.

At eleven a.m. precisely they both made their way to the Great Hall, both had changed into their school uniforms, which the House-elves had graciously brought to them so that they didn't have to go through the Bloody common room.

"You do realize that this it going to be incredibly awkward and depressing, right," George asked her as they stood in front of the Great Hall doors.

She nodded but said nothing, as she inhaled George opened the door and led her into the room. As they walked toward their seats all talking stopped and all eyes turned to them. Hermione lowered her head, letting her hair hide the blush that had streaked across her face. She sat in an empty seat in between Harry and Ron, both of them taking one of her hands in theirs.

"Now that we are all here," Dumbledore said standing up, "we have gathered to discuss the recent happenings of a young Gryffindor boy, Neville Longbottom.....As I'm sure most of you know, last night he took his life, and that's why we are here. We are going to basically spend some time to pray for him, if you will."

She could feel cold eyes on her, looking up quickly she found that the Slytherin table seemed to be following each of her movements with their eyes. Draco Malfoy sat directly across from her, his cold eyes watching her with sympathy, which surprised her. She looked up at Harry who smiled weakly, hoping that this would keep her from crying.

"The Slytherins, they look so....."

She bit the bottom of her lip hard, she was sure now, more then ever, that the Slytherins were actually being sympathetic. They weren't smirking, not laughing, and the fact that Draco Malfoy was looking at her without a trace of hate in his eyes meant something, it meant that Neville was a good person.

Dumbledore went on talking, various people sharing memories of him, talking about any memories that made them smile, and she thought back to first year, when she had used the 'petrificus totalus' charm on him. She remembered how he brave he had been, standing up for the house.....

"Hermione, are you okay," Ron asked, noticing that she was shaking.

As a few tears escaped and hit the table before she stood up, "It's not fair," she screamed. Once again all eyes were on her. "It's just not fair."

"Hermione," George said, standing up as well, "maybe you should go back to the infirmary."

"No," she screamed. "He shouldn't have done that, I hate him! Why did he do that! Didn't he realize that it would hurt us?"

George moved up behind her, "Stop it!" He yelled, "Stop it! Do you hear me!"

"No," She yelled back, "I won't! He's gone! He can't come back! I could have saved him, it's all my fault."

He clasped his hands on her shoulders and shook her lightly, "You couldn't have stopped it! No one could have, and it's not your fault! You had nothing to do with it. He was sick Hermione!" He roared.

She collapsed against his chest, something that she had done a lot in the past few hours. She closed her eyes and passed out in his arms, all the while Fred looked on in awe and anger,

*

Hermione looked around the darkened room, sitting before her at a table, working in candlelight was Neville. He looked up at her and smiled.

"Hello Hermione, I was wondering when you would drop by," He beckoned her over to a chair to sit.

"Where.....what....."

"I assume that you think that you could have stopped me, right? Don't blame yourself for my mistakes okay. You always did that, especially in Potions, although I have the sneaking suspicion that Snape knew that it was me who ruined the potions.....how is the nasty bugger? And what about the Slytherins?"

She blinked once or twice, "Well, the Slytherins were actually being sympathetic, and I wasn't paying Snape any attention. Why did you do it?"

"I can't honestly say it was one thing in particular, everything seemed so bad, I didn't think that the pain would end."

"You could have gotten help," she said in a flair of anger, "can't you see the pain you are putting us through?"

His eyes opened wide, "I never thought.....well, I..." and then his figure began to fade.

"Wait," she cried, "come back!"

"I can't, don't blame yourself," he whispered, although his figure seemed to be getting farther away it seemed as though he was whispering in her ear.

"Hermione."

*

"Hermione," Harry's voice was strained. "Hermione, wake up."

She opened her eyes cautiously and found that she was back to the real world, and was lying in her bed in the Gryffindor Tower.

"Ack," she grumbled, "I was sleeping you know."

"Sorry," He grumbled.

"That's ok, I just had the most odd dream though."

Harry sighed, "What of?"

"Neville, he told me that it wasn't my fault, and not to blame myself."

The Weasley's stood behind Harry, looking at her with caution. "It's time for dinner," Ginny announced, "do you want me to bring you back anything?"

"A biscuit please," she answered.

"Do you want anyone to stay with you," Harry asked kindly.

"Yeah," she said sitting up, "I don't want to be alone here."

Harry nodded and George stepped forward. "I will," he announced.

When everyone else had left she began to talk again, "Why on earth are they acting like I'm the only one who was affected," she asked looking into his emerald eyes.

That was the only physical feature of George's that separated him from Fred, George had emerald eyes, Fred had a pure blue.

"Because," he answered, "they seem to think that making sure that you are okay will somehow help them deal with it."

"I'm okay," she said quietly, "I'll be okay, I just need time."

"Time." George spat out the word like it was a curse, but he took my hand in his, sending chills up my arm, and then smiled at her.