Hermione had heard, of course, about Harry being taken to the hospital. The Fat Lady told her, actually, as Hermione had been leaving the Common Room to get in some reading before classes began.
Upon the news, Hermione had immediately changed direction and headed towards the Hospital Wing. Revising and editing could wait, Harry's scar was much, much more important. She bustled towards the wing, a worried expression on her face. She briefly wondered if Benjamin would be there too, then agreed with herself that, undoubtedly, he would be there as well. He was Harry afterall, practically.
It took her a bit longer than normal, as both her arms were loaded with books, her bag over one shoulder as well. She reached the Hospital Wing, and, sought out Harry, headed directly for him. She didn't bother seeking out Pomfrey, Hermione had learnt her way around the Hospital Wing years ago and had since disreguarded searching for the nurse prior to seeking out whomever she was visiting.
Across from each other two young boys that looks identical, all but the detail of a scar on one boy’s forehead, chewing on their breakfast, still stressed in their pyjamas. Harry looked a bit paler than Benjamin, but both didn’t look like they had fallen victim to some horrible catastrophe, or anything.
Harry felt more tired than he was willing to let on, but ate his sunnyside eggs rather happily. His sleep-addled brain didn’t hear the door open. He felt slightly dazed, having felt that after effects of Voldemort’s pure pleasure, and the pain that also resulted. Soon, people were going to be asking questions about he saw, what he felt, and any other detail that may be related to Voldemort. That’s how it always was, he was just their little tuner into the current mind of Voldemort, and when he wasn’t tuning into the psychopath’s emotions, he was a buffer for their survival. After all, Harry felt like if it didn’t involve Voldemort, he was the cockroach that wouldn’t die.
Hermione reached Harry's side and, before speaking, shot a worried glance over at Benjamin, then focused all her attention back onto Harry.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, brow furrowed with worry. She'd been doing nothing but worry since the Fat Lady had informed her of Harry's trip to the hospital wing. "Have you slept alright?" she asked, without bothering to wait for the answer to her previous question. "He didn't...do or say anything to you, did he? You're okay?" she asked, and felt herself tear up.
If there was one thing Hermione Granger hated about herself, it was the fact that she teared up anytime Ron or Harry found themselves in any sort of pain. It was downright irritating, when she thought about it, which she wasn't going now, of course.
"Has anyone bothered you?" she inquired. "You should tell everyone that you won't be answering questions," she said in a slightly firm tone. "Not until you're completely alright." she finished, though she herself was quite curious as to what had caused Harry's scar to cause
( ... )
It had gotten around somehow; that the two Potter boys were staying in the hospital wing. It was never difficult to find out this sort of information, anyway. And as soon as Draco was aware of it, he found himself gathering up his things and getting ready to head quickly over. He wouldn't tell any of his housemates of where he was headed, and if they asked, he'd be spending time doing extra homework in the library.
With his bag of school things, just in case he had time afterwards, he made his way from the Slytherin common and into the hallway that led to the infirmary. His expression was set into one of worry. He hoped no one else was going to be there; he'd rather be alone when checking up on Harry. It was nicer that way. His arms were dropped on his sides, his pale fingers clenching and unclenching as if it'd help calm his growing nerves. Nothing was seriously wrong with Harry, no... there couldn't be.
Unaware of Draco’s joining presence, Harry looked up at Hermione and gave a simple smile. The smile remained all through her lectures and her mothering; he was quite used it from her, after all. When she finally stopped talking, he put his fork down and enjoyed a sip of his pumpkin juice. “No one has bothered to visit me, yet,” he said gently.
Hermione let herself grin at Harry after he'd spoken. "Well, that's what I'm here for," she said in a happy tone. "I wouldn't dream of not visiting you, after all, you end up here yearly, it's a tradition of sorts for us, isn't it?" she attempted humour, something she normally failed at. Humour, flying, and wizards' chess, the weaknesses of Hermione Granger. She hesitated before speaking her next bit, which she knew was going to be nagging. "Harry, you know, once you feel better..." she trailed off, debating whether or not to say it. Deciding it would simply be out of character for her not to, and deciding that surely he expected the statement, she continued. "You really should go to Dumbledore." she finished, and then smiled.
"But that's after you're better. Right now none of that stuff matters." she added in quietly. She knew herself she hadn't been the best friend she ought to have been, hiding herself in books and busying herself with Ron when she wasn't. She was hurting them all. And with what Ben had told her that her other
( ... )
Draco finally arrived at the infirmary, trying to stop himself from moving too restlessly around before entering. Which he did a moment later, not bothering to solve the problem. Harry was the bigger problem; he had to see if he was okay. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for Harry. As his gaze landed on him, where he was sitting in the bed just across from the boy identical to him, he spotted Granger by his bedside as well. This wasn't at all what he wanted. His worried expression quickly transformed into one of annoyance. Though he knew he shouldn't have doubted one of his friends would come to visit. But bloody hell, why was it when he was here
( ... )
Comments 25
Upon the news, Hermione had immediately changed direction and headed towards the Hospital Wing. Revising and editing could wait, Harry's scar was much, much more important. She bustled towards the wing, a worried expression on her face. She briefly wondered if Benjamin would be there too, then agreed with herself that, undoubtedly, he would be there as well. He was Harry afterall, practically.
It took her a bit longer than normal, as both her arms were loaded with books, her bag over one shoulder as well. She reached the Hospital Wing, and, sought out Harry, headed directly for him. She didn't bother seeking out Pomfrey, Hermione had learnt her way around the Hospital Wing years ago and had since disreguarded searching for the nurse prior to seeking out whomever she was visiting.
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Harry felt more tired than he was willing to let on, but ate his sunnyside eggs rather happily. His sleep-addled brain didn’t hear the door open. He felt slightly dazed, having felt that after effects of Voldemort’s pure pleasure, and the pain that also resulted. Soon, people were going to be asking questions about he saw, what he felt, and any other detail that may be related to Voldemort. That’s how it always was, he was just their little tuner into the current mind of Voldemort, and when he wasn’t tuning into the psychopath’s emotions, he was a buffer for their survival. After all, Harry felt like if it didn’t involve Voldemort, he was the cockroach that wouldn’t die.
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"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, brow furrowed with worry. She'd been doing nothing but worry since the Fat Lady had informed her of Harry's trip to the hospital wing. "Have you slept alright?" she asked, without bothering to wait for the answer to her previous question. "He didn't...do or say anything to you, did he? You're okay?" she asked, and felt herself tear up.
If there was one thing Hermione Granger hated about herself, it was the fact that she teared up anytime Ron or Harry found themselves in any sort of pain. It was downright irritating, when she thought about it, which she wasn't going now, of course.
"Has anyone bothered you?" she inquired. "You should tell everyone that you won't be answering questions," she said in a slightly firm tone. "Not until you're completely alright." she finished, though she herself was quite curious as to what had caused Harry's scar to cause ( ... )
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With his bag of school things, just in case he had time afterwards, he made his way from the Slytherin common and into the hallway that led to the infirmary. His expression was set into one of worry. He hoped no one else was going to be there; he'd rather be alone when checking up on Harry. It was nicer that way. His arms were dropped on his sides, his pale fingers clenching and unclenching as if it'd help calm his growing nerves. Nothing was seriously wrong with Harry, no... there couldn't be.
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"But that's after you're better. Right now none of that stuff matters." she added in quietly. She knew herself she hadn't been the best friend she ought to have been, hiding herself in books and busying herself with Ron when she wasn't. She was hurting them all. And with what Ben had told her that her other ( ... )
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