The doors of the hospital wing creaked open. A red-haired, freckled boy appeared out of nowhere, as though he had been invisible. Ron walked in nervously, stuffing the Invisibility Cloak inside his robes, hoping Harry wouldn't notice its absence. He knew visitors weren't allowed and that it was after hours, but quite frankly, he didn't care. Hermione had been Petrified. He was more angry about that than he had been in a long, long time. Ron walked over to Hermione's bed and sighed.
He was greatly saddened by the sight of her, stiff as a statue, glassy-eyed, with a slightly stony complexion. Even her bushy brown hair had grown stiff and lifeless. Ron reached out and held her hand. It was as cold as ice, and didn't remind him remotely of Hermione.
"We miss you, Hermione," Ron whispered, though he knew it was pointless. "Harry and I really do. Malfoy, the git, of course, says it was a favor to the school that you got like this…said it was a pity you didn't die." Ron tightened his grip on her hand. "If my wand weren't broken, I would have hexed him into another dimension. I don't even care if they hung me by my pinkies in the dungeon and had Filch stick me with cactus needles."
Though she couldn't speak or move, Hermione could still see, hear, and feel, despite everyone's beliefs. After all, they had never been Petrified. Hermione could feel the warmth of Ron's hand against the iciness she felt. If she could shiver, she would have. She could also hear Ron talking to her, and desperately thought, Ron! Ron, I can hear you! I can hear you! Ron! Although no matter how hard she tried, Hermione knew that she couldn't speak to him.
She could see Ron's flaming red hair, his clear blue eyes, the freckles sprinkled across his nose. She could also see the look of extreme anger-no, utter rage when he talked about how Malfoy wished she had died. Hermione was a little shocked by this. Sure, she hated Malfoy, but she didn't want him dead.
Ron sighed again and stared sadly into Hermione's lifeless eyes, and stroked her cheek. He wished it would have been him who had been the victim. He was of no use. Hermione, however, was one of the kindest, smartest, and strongest people he had met. Dare he think it, she was even quite beautiful.
Hermione went through an emotional turmoil inside her mind. Here was Ron, kind, funny, childish, usually a very cheerful person, and yet he looked so sad. Hermione wished that she could move again and just fling her arms around his neck and tell him she was alright. A bang of a door opening sounded, and Ron looked over, startled.
"You there!" Hermione heard Madam Pomfrey shout, "You're supposed to be in bed! And no visitors allowed!"
"Right, sorry, I just wanted to see my friend," Ron mumbled, with one last glance at Hermione.
Don't go, she thought.
Ron saw Madam Pomfrey's expression soften slightly. "I know, but rules are rules. Now, out, before I get Filch or give you detention myself!" Ron made a beeline for the door. He glanced back at Hermione.
I'll be back, Hermione, he thought determinedly. I don't care about rules, just so long as I get to see you. Then the doors to the hospital wing closed and he headed back to Gryffindor tower, hidden by the Invisibility Cloak.