#not even mentioning that she would be too malnourished to sustain a pregnancy

[gelato444]

while watching the walking dead I can put aside some of my disbelief, and also ignore some of the plot holes (biggest one is what attracts zombies, like sometimes smell does it but sometimes it doesn’t? sometimes sight?) but the one I cannot understand or suspend my disbelief for is Lori keeping the pregnancy LOL like earlier in s2 she’s crying about how this world isn’t good for Carl to live in and maybe he should die, and then she gets pregnant, takes the abortion pills, and then throws them up to keep the baby? so it’s too hard for carl to live but it’s easy for a baby to live?????? HUH

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Thirty Six

Hermione’s been doing it on and off since last night. 

By the grace of all things mighty, Jamison and Ron’s parents allowed him to remain vigil by her bedside, watching over her.

He was able to convince them over some bullocks that he’d be able to detect if her mind was really at ease. Which wasn’t a complete lie, but the only thing on his mind was her. Seeing her. Never letting her out of his sight again. 

And it sounds mad, but he knows somewhere deep within himself that her mind’s okay. She’s way too fucking brilliant and too strong to let the likes of those Death Eaters take away her greatest strength. 

She has to be okay. 

And when he isn’t spending his time worrying himself about her in here, he’s worried about what’s out there.

The Death Eaters could come back for her. Surely they would try. Bellatrix fucking Lestrange was infamous for holding grudges. 

Not to mention, Hermione somehow is in possession of Narcissa Malfoy’s wand. A Malfoy’s wand! No doubt Draco and Lucius would be on a warpath about this, just furthering the issue. 

Oh yeah, and with You-Know-Who in the bloody fray. Well, let’s just say Ron was beginning to understand the true feeling of constant vigilance that Mad-Eye’s always dragging on about. 

But despite all these worries, despite being nothing but a seventeen year old wizard, he was determined to protect Hermione from this. To ensure nothing, nothing, will ever happen to her again. No matter what the cost. 

And he doesn’t care what Harry, his Mum, his professors- anyone, have to say about it. There’s no argument. 

He realizes now, a life without Hermione is empty, almost purposeless. Even without her presence, the very thought of this moment kept him going. Not birthdays, chocolate frogs, or quidditch. Just her. 

His eyes rove over her face. And he doesn’t know why, but he suddenly has the incessant need to vocalize these thoughts to her. The same he’d been doing all night. 

“I know if you can hear me you’re probably damn tired of hearing it, but you’re safe now darling. Just open those pretty eyes and come back to me, alright?” 

He watches her chest rise and fall at its steady pace. He knows she’s in there somewhere, she’s just a little lost right now, but he would find her. 

He’ll always find her. 

“Come on love, I miss you. I can only take so much of reading this book to you.” He jokes lightly, lifting Hogwarts, A History from the bedside table. 

He had the idea of reading it to her last night, thinking it might awaken something, even if it’s not, well- awakening Hermione herself. 

He wonders if she ever got the copy he gave her for Christmas… 

“There’s so much I need to tell you Mione, that I should’ve told you ever since, well, since first year, I reckon. Since that day when-“ 

“Have you slept?” A voice calls from behind, making him jump slightly. However, he recognizes it instantly and decides not to turn around. 

He hasn’t. 

He’s so tired he can’t even manage to be embarrassed about the fact someone else heard him having this one sided conversation. 

“Of course you haven’t, neither have I.” Ginny whispered as she lurched closer, closing the door as she came. 

“Cissy.” Hermione groans painfully before Ron can answer his little sister. 

And just like that, Ginny springs to life, “Sissy?” she questioned, “What’s that about? Hermione didn’t have a sister did she?” She almost feels stupid asking. 

“No.” He answers quickly, “No she didn’t.” He reconfirmed, eyeing her sleeping form. 

“Odd.” Ginny said quietly as she leaned over to inspect Hermione closer, “Has she been doing it all night?”

“No.” Ron answered quietly. 

And it was true. But all this down time sitting, worrying about her, he has noticed a lot. One thing is that whenever the door squeaks or closes Hermione groans that damn word. It’s like her brain has some sort of unconscious reaction to the sound of the door, no doubt some trigger from that place. 

Merlin, if he didn’t get his hands on one of them soon, he would-

“Ron?” Ginny said, studying him worriedly. 

He shook his head, forgetting his thoughts, “Only when the door sounds.” He told his sister. 

“What?” 

“She only does it when the door makes noise, I dunno, must be something from there, I guess…” Even vaguely hinting at what she may have endured makes his chest ache. 

Ginny seems to be blocking him out, just staring blankly at Hermione’s battered form. He manages to peel his eyes away from the brunette long enough to direct his gaze to his sister. 

She must feel him piercing a hole into her, because she says, “This is the first time I’ve seen her.” Ginny whispers throaitly. 

He gulps. 

“By the time things had settled a bit with the Healer and Mum and Dad, Harry came to say you fell asleep in there. Mum thought it best to let you both rest. We stayed in some stuffy Ministry Overnight Room Kingsley set up. This was the first time I’ve been in.” Somewhere along the way a tear slides down her cheeks. Followed by another. And another. 

They’re silent. She’s not heaving. Her shoulders barely shake. 

Ron knows now that her long ramble about not seeing Hermione was merely a ploy to fool herself into some sort of distraction. 

He slowly places his hand on her shoulder, making Ginny jump a bit, but she soon relaxes, “I don’t think it gets easier.” That definitely wasn’t what he was supposed to say. 

Ginny seemed to realize as much too, face turning to meet him with a scrunched brow.

“Sorry,” He says, pulling away to rub the base of his neck, “I just mean, the longer I stay in here the more angry and sad I get, you know?” He sighs, “I’m angry that this happened to her and I’m even more pissed off that even though she’s here, it feels like the universe is taunting me. She’s here now, but she’s still… not.”

Sensing her older brother's rare outpour of vulnerability, Ginny now takes it upon herself to comfort Ron, “She’ll come back to us, I know it.” Her green eyes move back to Hermione’s closed ones, “You have so much waiting for you, I hope you know that Hermione.”

And it’s true, she does. She has Ron, Harry, Neville, all the Weasley’s, The Order, and so much more. 

But Ron couldn’t help but think, with her parents gone, would it be enough?

...

“Excuse me, can I please talk to you two?” Healer Jamison asked Molly and Arthur. 

Quickly, the woman stood up, frantically nodding, “yes, yes of course.” 

Arthur soon joined them as the caretaker ushered them into a quiet corner. 

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Weasley asked anxiously. 

Jamison appeared to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth, just furthering the pair's nerves. “I’m aware the two of you aren’t Miss Granger’s parents. I’d recognize Weasley’s anywhere.” He settled for.

Molly and Arthur exchanged a quick look before the former spoke up, “no we aren’t Hermione’s parents, but hers-“ she stops abruptly, not knowing what to say, or if she even has the heart to say it. 

“Hermione’s parents can’t be present at the moment.” Arthur finished, giving his wife a squeeze, “she’s of age though, but we are acting as her guardians. If there’s any issues you can contact Kingsley Shacklebolt through the-“

Jamison shook his head, “no, no that’s not the issue. It’s just, there’s no easy way to say this…” he fretted, rubbing at his brow. 

After another moment passed of tense silence, Molly spoke again, “I don’t understand. I thought you said that Hermione was stable, that reassessments on magical healing would be made once she comes to. Please don’t tell us-“ 

“Nothing like that, Mrs. Weasley, as of now I have no concerns that Miss Granger will enter such a state that could be fatal.” He assured, though the ‘as of now’ brought them little comfort. 

Bewilderment was still evident across the pair's faces. Jamison knew he couldn’t put it off any longer no matter how terrible what he had to say would be. 

“Miss Granger sustained a multitude of injuries, broken bones, multiple contusions, deep gashes, internal bleeding. Those were all things we took care of, or did our best to, without magic, upon her arrival. However, once we got the bleeding to slow down, we did some more testing.” 

“And what did you find?” Arthur whispered, sensing this man's dread. 

“It was evident that Miss Granger underwent sexual trauma.” Jamison told them quietly. 

At this, Molly moaned in pain as Arthur’s arm found its way around her. 

“She-she isn’t- right?” Molly asked through tears. 

Hurriedly, he shook his head, “no. There were no signs of…” he gulped, “pregnancy. Even if there was at one time Miss Granger’s body was in no state to support another life. She’s severely malnourished, weak, and wasn't being taken care of properly. It doesn’t seem her body is even in a fit state to menstruate at the moment, but we can only be sure when she tells us as much.”

Molly continued to shake a little with small cries that she was clearly doing her best to conceal. Arthur decided to take the initiative asking questions she’d be sure to have later. 

“I’ve heard some stories you know, about organs, and hers are…” he asked hesitantly. 

“Any damage done to her organs seems to be a direct effect of the cruciatus curse. There’s some bruising on her thighs and hips that were evident as well as some scratches we believe may have been a factor, but our scans only picked up on residual dark magic.” 

“Okay.” Arthur nodded slowly, “okay.” He said again. 

“It’s not so much about the physical effects I’m worried about, it’s the emotional toll something like this has. Especially on someone so young. She was looked at by another healer, a female, who specializes in these kinds of things. The damage indicated that Miss Granger’s virginity was taken against her own will.” He informed sadly. 

Molly cried a bit harder. Jamison himself felt a little blurry eyed. 

“Here, I’ll get you the information to reach out to Healer Evangeline. She can answer any questions you may have better than I can.” He said before writing something down on his pad and handing it to Arthur. 

“Thank you.” He nodded to the healer before ushering Molly to a chair. 

Once he sat her down she spoke, “I’m okay Arthur, I’m fine. It’s just, poor Hermione… she doesn’t-“ she stopped speaking and shook her head. 

“I know Molly Wobbles.” He said, kissing her forehead. 

“I’m gonna go to the loo and freshen up. I don’t want the children to ask questions. Hermione will tell the lot of them when she’s ready.” The older woman said standing. 

“Okay dear, take your time.” He said, rubbing her shoulder “I better go see Ron.” Arthur said throaitly, still not having processed what he just heard, “he'll be wondering about Narcissa Malfoy’s wand.” 

“Have you heard anything?” Molly asked through a sniffle. 

Arthur shook his head, “not yet, but I’m sure that’s what he’ll want to know for now.” He offered her a small smile before they parted ways. 

Mr. Weasley took the sickeningly familiar path to Hermione’s room, doing his best to shove aside the pit in his stomach. 

Horrible isn’t even a word that does the situation justice. No words could measure up to how terrible and vile such an act was. 

Arthur Weasley was a calm, level headed, caring man. But now, now there was hell to pay. 

His anger momentarily subsided at the scene he was met by, his emotions being replaced by nothing but sadness, pity even. 

Ron was hunched over, clinging onto Hermione’s delicate hand. Arthur swore he could vaguely hear his son whispering something to her as his fingers stroked her hair. 

“I’m gonna make this up to you, darling. I swear I’ll try and make this better if it’s the last thing I do Mione. Okay love? So please just come on…” 

From the sound of his voice Arthur would bet he’s been at this for a while. It makes his heart break even more. 

“Son.” He says, doing his best to not let his voice quiver. 

“Dad.” Ron breathes in relief as his glassy blue eyes find his fathers. 

“How is she?” He asked quietly. 

Ron shrugged as his eyes fell back on Hermione’s. Fingers moving on their own accord through her matted hair, “she says something whenever the door sounds. I try to talk to her, hope she won’t hear it. Other than that, nothing.” He informed regretfully

Arthur clapped Ron on the shoulder, “you seem to be doing a good job then, I didn’t hear anything from her when I came in.” 

“Yeah, at least I can do something.” He said miserably. 

His father opened his mouth to speak, but Ron didn’t want to hear someone else’s apology. “Anything about the wand?” 

“It’s definitely Narcissa Malfoy’s, we-“ 

Hermione twitched a little violently, “C-Cissy.” She groaned. 

“There it is.” Ron whispered sadly. 

Arthur’s brow furrowed. Something about it felt vaguely familiar. Like it meant something…

“Do you know how she got it?” Ron asked next, seemingly wanting to avert his fathers pity. 

He sighs, forgetting his prior thoughts, “I reckon that’s something Hermione will have to tell us son, I just don’t imagine it’s a pleasant story.” If she remembers, Arthur added, not wanting to break Ron’s heart anymore than it’s already been fractured. 

Like he can hear his fathers thoughts, he speaks confidently, “she’ll remember. I know she will. She’s right here Dad.”��

Arthur hangs his head sadly in both shame and sadness. 

“If there’s anyone who can bring her back son, I know it’s you.”

...

Ron wasn’t sure what day it was. A weekend maybe? It was a bit shocking no one has pestered him into going back to Hogwarts for his classes yet and Harry, Neville, and Ginny are still around. 

Well, at least he thinks. 

He’s pretty sure his arse hasn’t left the horrid hospital chair in over forty eight hours, save for a trip to the tiny loo connected to the room. 

It’s night again. He thinks tomorrow is Sunday. Or maybe it already is.

“Mione, I’m a little surprised you haven’t woken up yet and scolded me for missing Friday’s lessons.” He whispers to her still frame under the moonlight. 

Ron can feel the water building up in the backs of his eyes. Merlin, what he wouldn’t give to just hear her nag him again. 

“Do you think you can try that love? Please.” He practically begs. “I don’t know how much longer I have here until my parents-”

And it’s like something within her is triggered by his words. It’s almost a bit frightening how it happens, namely, why it’s happening now, he has been prattling off to her for days. But Ron pays no mind to that. 

Her eyes are open and sparkling. Still the same brown they’ve always been. He doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he thought maybe they’d look different. Like he forgot. 

Hermione starts to whimper and move slightly. If she wasn’t as weak she’d surely be thrashing about in the bed. 

Tears coat his cheeks before he can realize it, “Hermione, I’m here love, you’re going to be alright.” Ron swears, gently wiping the droplets streaming her own face. 

At first she flinches at the contact but soon melts into the touch. 

“C-Cissy?” She cries out, her voice mangled and not at all sounding like her own. 

Hermione’s mind is cloudy. All that resonates is pain. 

She swears she hears Ron, but that wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. When terrible nightmares don’t haunt her, whenever the exhaustion takes over it’s dreams of him calling out to her, Harry playing quidditch, of her parents… 

Ron holds off asking about that, “No, it’s me darling. It’s Ron. You’re back Mione, it’s okay.” 

But his touch, it feels so real, so soft. His hand feels exceptionally large and calloused against her cheek, not at all like Narcissa’s small smooth hand. 

It can’t be real. There’s no way. My mind is playing tricks, but please, let me feel it a bit longer… 

Her eyes fluttered shut and Ron’s worried he’s lost her again, “Please open your eyes love, it’s me. Let me show you please.” He croaks. 

Hermione’s instincts are telling her to open her eyes, but another part of her is saying not to, or else this, this feeling, will be gone. But like always, her thirst for knowledge takes over, she needs to know what’s going on. 

Oh my-

The blue of his eyes. The small scar under his left eye from a quidditch incident as a child. The smattering of copper freckles dotting his face. His hair, flaming and a little more shaggy than when she last saw him. 

It can’t be real. There’s no way. 

But he looks, feels, so real… 

She can feel her chin quivering at its own accord. Next, his large fingers push through her hair, away from her eyes. 

“Hey, sh, don’t do that. You’re gonna be alright.” He promises with a watery smile.

Then with a shaking hand she weakly presses it to his cheek. Ron revels in the sensation of her small hands on him and lightly holds it to him to stop the shaking. 

“R-real?” She cries. 

His eyes flutter open, searing into hers, “Real.”

And she believes him. 

Maybe that makes her stupid and naive. Maybe it’ll make it hurt all the more for when she wakes up and realizes this was all just another dream. But something just feels different. 

At his assurance, Hermione is more than ready to succumb to the sobs building up in relife, but she can’t. Not yet. Not until she knows. 

Dream or not, she needs to convince herself that what Narcissa told her wasn’t real and Ron would never lie to her. And that word, that’s what woke something within her. 

He can see her struggle, “What is it? What’s wrong Mione? Do you want me to get the healer? Or maybe my Mum-” 

“P-p-p,” She stutters. 

“That’s it love, you can do it.” Ron encouraged, squeezing the hand pressed to him. 

“Pa-parents.” She barely manages. 

“My parents?” He tries. 

Hermione shakes her head best she can manage before opening her mouth to speak again. 

“M-mine.” She whimpers. 

He realizes she doesn’t want his Mum, she wants her hers. Her dad too. 

Her parents. 

Merlin her parents- 

And the look in her eyes, the pain in her voice. Ron just knows she knows. 

It makes him feel sick at the prospect that the death of the Granger’s was used as some taunt while she was in that place. 

She can see his eyes drop and the tears glittering in them at her words.

Narcissa never lied to her, but god, she wishes she had… 

And before she can realize it, control it really, Hermione screamed. 

A terrible, painful thing. Something she wasn’t even sure she was capable of when she can barely manage a sentence. 

Without a thought Ron carefully climbed into the small bed with her, mindful of her injuries. He then thought of the best way to embrace her without causing hurt. But, before he could get the chance, Hermione took the liberty.

The small brunette practically collapsed on his chest, placing her less aching hand to clutch as his shirt. 

Quickly, Ron grabbed it and held it tightly, then used his other hand to stroke her hair gently. 

Hermione wailed into him, body shaking at an alarming rate. And Ron didn’t know what to do but hold her, he couldn’t tell her it was okay, because it wasn’t. 

“That’s it love, let it out.” He encouraged, though he was sure his words fell upon deaf ears. 

Hermione was sobbing herself into exhaustion, just thinking over and over why?

At one point, without realizing it, she was muttering the word out loud best she could through her cries. 

She’d rather be in the dungeon being dealt the cruciatus day after day then experience this kind of pain. 

Hearing her whimpers and the strangled words, Ron couldn’t help but let tears slip himself, “oh darling.” He sighed sadly. 

And that’s how it went for an hour, even more. It was almost astounding how she managed to go on that long in her condition. Ron considered calling Jamison for a calming drought, but he knew she needed to do this, that some ruddy potion wouldn’t make her wake up and suddenly feel good as new. 

As minute eighty-four ticked on, Hermione just stopped. He looked down worriedly to see her asleep on his chest. 

For a moment he panicked, until he felt her shaky breath near his neck. He sighed in relief and tightened his hold on her. 

Part of Ron wanted to be happy to finally hold her this way, to have her here, and to know she’s completely safe in his arms. 

But he couldn’t be. 

Not like this. 

It was never supposed to be like this…