Chapter 1:A Cold Beginning

September 1st 2002

She stood over his bed in shock. How could this have happened? How could she have let it happen? Hermione sunk into the chair beside the bed. She looked at his face, so peaceful and expressionless. Why? She asked herself. Why hadn't she tried to help? She had just stood there. Like a statue; a cold heartless statue. That's what she was… heartless. To make him fight them all off by himself while she stood, un-moving, behind the dumpster. She had wanted so much to have helped him. But she just couldn't.

"Oh my gosh! How could this have happened!"

Hermione turned around to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rushing into the room. Mrs. Weasley's face was stained with tears.

"Oh Ron!" Mrs. Weasley cried dropping to her knees beside Ron's bed.

"Hermione, when we got your message we came right away. What happened?" Mr. Weasley asked, placing a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"He… he was a…attacked" Hermione chocked out. Her throat was suddenly desiccated and dry.

"What?" Mrs. Weasley's head shot up from where it had been resting on Ron's shoulder, "attacked by who!" She shouted.

"I…um, by Death Eaters" Tears started to roll down Hermione's cheeks once again.

"But… but I thought it was over? Arthur, what is going on?" Molly stuttered.

"How… Hermione are you absolutely sure they were Death Eaters?" Mr. Weasley's grip on Hermione's shoulder tightened until it started to hurt. She sank lower in her chair so that Mr. Weasley's fingernails didn't puncture her skin. "Yes, I'm sure they were Death Eaters. I saw the dark mark on one of them."

"Arthur!" This time Molly got off of her knees and rounded the bed to where Mr. Weasley was standing, "how could this have happened? I thought it was all over! I thought all of the Death Eaters were too afraid to show themselves at the threat of going to Azkaban! I thought we were safe!" The tone in Mrs. Weasley's voice changed from nervous to frantic with every word she said.

"I thought so too Molly Dear, I thought so too." Mr. Weasley hung his head in shame.


The hours passed and Hermione spent every one of them by Ron's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. She couldn't help but to think it was all her fault. She had been there when it had happened, she could have helped, but she was just too afraid. She had told herself that it wasn't real. That it was all a dream, a horrible dream. After all, everyone thought it was safe now.

The fight for the four remaining Horcruxes had been long and hard, as had the final battle. People were hurt, friendships were tested and lives were lost. But in the end every body was just glad that the battle was finally over and that Voldemort was gone… for good. The last thing Hermione had expected was to be attacked by a Death Eater.

Hermione hated being at Saint Mungos. Not because of the miserable looks on everyone's faces or the occasional scream of a person who had lost a loved one, but of the silence. It gave her too much time to think, intoxicating her brain with images of Ron's body lying there on the pavement all bloody and slashed, not moving, not breathing. Then all of a sudden she would fall into darkness and these memories would become more real until she could no longer handle it.

Hermione's head shot up from Ron's shoulder and her eyes snapped open. Her breathing was rapid and heavy. She looked down at Ron's expressionless face.

"Oh Ron," she whispered, "I'm sorry. I should have done something. I should have helped."

"It wasn't your fault Hermione."

Hermione's head snapped around and she saw Harry standing in the doorway. She got up and ran to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she began to cry into his shoulder.

"It's all my fault Harry." She said between sobs.

"No Hermione its not. No-one would have expected they would come back."

"It's only been a couple of months! How can they still be hurting people? Voldemort's DEAD!" Her cries echoed around the room.

"Hermione it's not your fault. They're trying to get to me. They're mad because I killed Voldemort. The Death Eaters gave up so much for Voldemort and all they get in return is a life sentence in Azkaban. There angry and they want revenge."

"Oh Harry… Don't you see? They're not out for world domination, they're just out to hurt the people you love…"

Suddenly a healer entered the room with a container of foul smelling liquid and a cloth and started dabbing the cuts on Ron's face.

"Here let me do that," Hermione returned to Ron's bedside and continued dabbing the ointment onto Ron's face.

"Has there been any change?" Harry asked the healer.

"Well were not exactly sure," at this Hermione let out a sigh of frustration, "but," said the healer a little too forcefully, "he is showing good signs. The cuts and bruises are healing quite nicely and there is no sign of an internal or head injury."

"Well what is that machine doing?" asked Harry pointing to a machine to the far side of the room, connected by tubes and wires to a drip in Ron's arm and other places of his body.

"The machine is pumping potions into Mr. Weasley's arm, to keep him healthy and to try and speed up the healing process; it is also watching his heart rate and blood pressure to make sure they stay at a reasonable level."

Harry let out a little sigh and rubbed his temples with his thumb and index finger.

"Do you have any idea of when he may wake-up?"

"Unfortunately we do not. We'll just have to wait and see." And with that the healer left the room.

Harry let out another sigh, although this one was a lot louder and stretched on for longer. He felt bad. He had not had a reasonable sleep in over a month and when he finally did get to sleep it was an uneasy sleep that was filled with the faces of the people who had fought and died trying to defend him. His father, His godfather, Professor Lupin, Dumbledore, Tonks and Ted, Mad-eyed Moody, Dobby, Fred, Colin Creevy, the list would go on forever

He had spent countless days wishing the dark lord had killed him all those years ago, but obviously that was not how it was supposed to be…

But how is it that so many people are supposed to die?

Suddenly a shrill beeping sound came from the machine at Ron's bedside and a straight point line was seen on the heart rate monitor. (when the line goes straight)

"Oh my god!" Hermione screamed, "Somebody HELP!"

Two healers - a male and a female - rushed it to the room.

"What's going on?" Hermione cried, "What's wrong?"

"Please Miss could you wait outside?" one of the healers said as two more healers rushed into the room.

"But wha…"

"C'mon Hermione" Harry practically pulled Hermione out of the room and sat her down on a seat by the door.

"No! No, no, no." Hermione said putting her face in her hands, tears running down her face. "He can't die Harry! I love him!"

To this Harry didn't know what to say. So he sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder trying his hardest to comfort her.