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rsadelleThis morning's posts were actually to make up for not posting anything yesterday. This is for today.
One of the younger children summoned Ron to Dumbledore's office, and he went along with a sinking feeling in his chest. He swept his eyes around the room, and the sinking feeling turned into a band squeezing all the air out of his lungs.
Dumbledore looked serious enough that none of his customary twinkle was left. Ginny sat pressed up against their father's side on a small couch. Snape was in one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. McGonagall sniffled into a handkerchief in a second chair. Harry was in a third, slumped over and too tired to even look up at Ron.
"Where is she?" Ron asked the room.
"Ron." His father held out one arm. "You should sit down."
"Where is she?" Ron's voice rose and he struggled to keep it from shaking.
"Ron," his father said again.
"We're betrothed," Ron said harshly, barely daring to breathe. "In the full old ritual." His father looked startled.
"Miss Granger is in the hospital wing," Snape informed him with uncharacteristic helpfulness.
Ron didn't wait for anyone else to try to waylay him. He rushed out of Dumbledore's office and down the spiral steps that twisted to help him get back to the main corridors faster.
Once there, he broke into a run. Snape wasn't around to stop him, and Filch didn't have the magic to do anything significant.
He arrived at the hospital wing flushed and out of breath.
Madame Pomfrey looked up from her cupboard of supplies at his entrance. "Come, dear," she said sympathetically. "I'll take you to Hermione."
She led him to one of the curtained off areas where Hermione lay pale and unconscious. Ron had to gulp back the dismay welling up inside him. He pulled a chair up to Hermione's bedside and took her hand.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Madame Pomfrey frowned at him. "I'm not entirely sure. A spell, we think, but we don't know what."
Ron brushed his free hand over Hermione's forehead. "Will she be okay?"
Madame Pomfrey patted his shoulder but didn't otherwise answer him. "I'll give you a moment."
Ron blinked back his tears and waited until Madame Pomfrey left. He leaned over Hermione and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he whispered.
He didn't know how long he sat there before he heard Madame Pomfrey say, "There now, dear. Take this. It'll help you fall asleep." That must be Harry, then, that she was putting to bed. "Sleep as long as you need."
"He doesn't need a sleeping potion," Snape said disapprovingly after the rattling of closing curtains had stopped. "He's nearly asleep as it is."
"He's too worked up to fall asleep," Madame Pomfrey said. Their voices moved away from where she'd put Harry.
"And Miss Granger?"
Madame Pomfrey sighed heavily. "I don't know. I can't figure out what the spell might have been. Mr. Weasley is sitting with her now."
"They're betrothed. Full old ritual."
There was a considering silence. "That does change things."
"Go on, Poppy," Snape said, sounding almost friendly. "I'll speak with Mr. Weasley."
Ron twined his fingers more closely with Hermione's and sat up straight in his chair.
"Mr. Weasley." Snape pulled up a chair on the other side of Hermione's bed.
"Professor Snape." Ron forced himself not to grip Hermione's hand too hard.
"Tell me what happened when you performed the betrothal ritual," Snape demanded.
Ron stiffened. That was none of Snape's business.
"It may help us to help Miss Granger."
Ron looked down at Hermione's still, pale face. "We went out past Hagrid's hut," he said, "almost to the forest."
"Who was your witness?"
"Harry." Of course it was Harry. Snape should have known better than to ask the question. As it was, he seemed to be suppressing a sneer.
"We said our parts, and Harry said his part, and then we exchanged rings." The silver band seemed to reflect more light than it ever had. "And then it was late, and we came back in." He didn't tell Snape that it had been long past curfew when they'd gone back in. And he didn't tell Snape that they'd come back in under the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak. He didn't tell Snape, either, that when they'd gotten back to the common room, he and Hermione had stayed to hold hands and kiss and look at their matching silver rings.
"And that was all? There was nothing out of the ordinary?"
Ron thought for a moment. "No one noticed the rings, but Hermione said that would happen."
"What else did she tell you about the ritual?"
Ron wondered why this mattered, but he looked down at Hermione and reminded himself that he was doing it to help her. "She said almost no one does it anymore, and that we had to be really sure we wanted to be betrothed or it wouldn't work."
One of the younger children summoned Ron to Dumbledore's office, and he went along with a sinking feeling in his chest. He swept his eyes around the room, and the sinking feeling turned into a band squeezing all the air out of his lungs.
Dumbledore looked serious enough that none of his customary twinkle was left. Ginny sat pressed up against their father's side on a small couch. Snape was in one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. McGonagall sniffled into a handkerchief in a second chair. Harry was in a third, slumped over and too tired to even look up at Ron.
"Where is she?" Ron asked the room.
"Ron." His father held out one arm. "You should sit down."
"Where is she?" Ron's voice rose and he struggled to keep it from shaking.
"Ron," his father said again.
"We're betrothed," Ron said harshly, barely daring to breathe. "In the full old ritual." His father looked startled.
"Miss Granger is in the hospital wing," Snape informed him with uncharacteristic helpfulness.
Ron didn't wait for anyone else to try to waylay him. He rushed out of Dumbledore's office and down the spiral steps that twisted to help him get back to the main corridors faster.
Once there, he broke into a run. Snape wasn't around to stop him, and Filch didn't have the magic to do anything significant.
He arrived at the hospital wing flushed and out of breath.
Madame Pomfrey looked up from her cupboard of supplies at his entrance. "Come, dear," she said sympathetically. "I'll take you to Hermione."
She led him to one of the curtained off areas where Hermione lay pale and unconscious. Ron had to gulp back the dismay welling up inside him. He pulled a chair up to Hermione's bedside and took her hand.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked.
Madame Pomfrey frowned at him. "I'm not entirely sure. A spell, we think, but we don't know what."
Ron brushed his free hand over Hermione's forehead. "Will she be okay?"
Madame Pomfrey patted his shoulder but didn't otherwise answer him. "I'll give you a moment."
Ron blinked back his tears and waited until Madame Pomfrey left. He leaned over Hermione and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he whispered.
He didn't know how long he sat there before he heard Madame Pomfrey say, "There now, dear. Take this. It'll help you fall asleep." That must be Harry, then, that she was putting to bed. "Sleep as long as you need."
"He doesn't need a sleeping potion," Snape said disapprovingly after the rattling of closing curtains had stopped. "He's nearly asleep as it is."
"He's too worked up to fall asleep," Madame Pomfrey said. Their voices moved away from where she'd put Harry.
"And Miss Granger?"
Madame Pomfrey sighed heavily. "I don't know. I can't figure out what the spell might have been. Mr. Weasley is sitting with her now."
"They're betrothed. Full old ritual."
There was a considering silence. "That does change things."
"Go on, Poppy," Snape said, sounding almost friendly. "I'll speak with Mr. Weasley."
Ron twined his fingers more closely with Hermione's and sat up straight in his chair.
"Mr. Weasley." Snape pulled up a chair on the other side of Hermione's bed.
"Professor Snape." Ron forced himself not to grip Hermione's hand too hard.
"Tell me what happened when you performed the betrothal ritual," Snape demanded.
Ron stiffened. That was none of Snape's business.
"It may help us to help Miss Granger."
Ron looked down at Hermione's still, pale face. "We went out past Hagrid's hut," he said, "almost to the forest."
"Who was your witness?"
"Harry." Of course it was Harry. Snape should have known better than to ask the question. As it was, he seemed to be suppressing a sneer.
"We said our parts, and Harry said his part, and then we exchanged rings." The silver band seemed to reflect more light than it ever had. "And then it was late, and we came back in." He didn't tell Snape that it had been long past curfew when they'd gone back in. And he didn't tell Snape that they'd come back in under the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak. He didn't tell Snape, either, that when they'd gotten back to the common room, he and Hermione had stayed to hold hands and kiss and look at their matching silver rings.
"And that was all? There was nothing out of the ordinary?"
Ron thought for a moment. "No one noticed the rings, but Hermione said that would happen."
"What else did she tell you about the ritual?"
Ron wondered why this mattered, but he looked down at Hermione and reminded himself that he was doing it to help her. "She said almost no one does it anymore, and that we had to be really sure we wanted to be betrothed or it wouldn't work."