Author's Notes:

Hello, readers! Here's chapter fourteen... I hope you'll enjoy it. Sorry about the epic delay. Blocks/life/depression... stuff happened. Guh, when I first wrote this, I was kid and there was no such thing as getting depressed. I hate being a grown up. Hrrmph.

Anyway, I very much intend to wholly revamp this thing - not going anywhere. :)

Once again, all the credit for making the original version fit to read goes to my darling Beta, Pauie *hugs*. :)

Reviews, as always, are appreciated. Haters will not be tolerated. If you don't like the story, simply don't read it. I'm not holding you captive and forcing it into you.

And before anyone else asks, yes, if you've read this before on MNFF, that was definitely me - Pooja, the 14-year-old aspiring doctor. Now I'm 22 and am almost a doctor and cringing at the medical inaccuracies in the original draft. O.o I'm not plagiarising someone's work, don't worry!

14. Poison

Ginny ran out of the room as Parvati crouched closer to Hermione. "Have you been feeling this way all day?" she asked the other woman, feeling her forehead again. Hermione was not warm at all.

"N-No." It was so quiet, Parvati had to lean closer to listen. "Someone…" Hermione struggled with her words. "D-Drink."

"In your drink?"

Hermione nodded and Parvati's heart fluttered. She licked her lips.

"You think… poison?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Oh, Merlin!"

The door opened with a bang and Ron walked in, followed by Ginny and Harry.

"What's going on?" he asked. He saw Hermione and went down to a crouch beside her. "Hey, what happened?"

"She thinks she's poisoned," Parvati said frantically, watching Hermione's eyes roll in and out of focus. "We don't have time…"

"Okay, okay," Ron moved closer and pulled Hermione's arm over his shoulder. "I'm going to lift you, okay? You'll be all right, Hermione."

He had slid an arm under her knees and was hauling her up, when she spoke again, in a barely-audible whisper.

"I love you, Ron."

Parvati heard Ron let out a shaky sigh, and mutter just before Hermione passed out, "I love you too."

Daisy rested her elbows on her knees as she sat at her desk, pondering about the news she had just received. Hermione Weasley had been poisoned. But… Hermione Weasley? It was supposed to be Parvati Patil. Daisy had been prepared to hear breaking news all over the Prophet, but… not this.

The silent attack had been so easily disguised with so many people around… but a stab would really have been a foolproof way to eliminate Parvati, even if it would have required planning. But poison? Why hadn't this been reasoned upon? And how hadn't she, Daisy, noticed…? How could she have committed such a blunder?

Daisy sighed. She would have to do something about such mistakes, now… it was high time. No more blunders… no more mistakes. From now on, she would make sure that everything would be the way it should. She had to keep her promise to Andrew, after all.

Hermione's eyes opened to a white, sterile room. She was lying on a comfortable bed with sheets tucked around her cosily. A stream of sunlight was falling through the chink of the curtains, from a window that was on the wall opposite her bed, and she realised that it was morning. How long had she been passed out?

It didn't take more than two seconds for Hermione to realise that she was in the hospital. What had happened, though? Hermione shut her eyes as she recollected the incident. She had felt strange and Parvati and Ginny had found her, before Ginny had frantically rushed away. Then…? Hermione remembered Ron. Ron had come. Yes. She had told Ron that she loved him.

What had he said? Hermione couldn't remember a reply from her husband. She took a deep breath and sat up as a sinking feeling overcame her. She wished that things could be better between her and Ron. She hated fighting with him. Didn't he get that?

"Hello!" said a voice, and Hermione saw Chris at her doorway. He grinned as he walked to her. "You're lucky," he said, winking at her, "I am the trainee under Healer Tudor, today."

"Healer Tudor?" Hermione asked him, her voice dry and rasping. Chris noticed and picked up a glass of water with a straw in it.

"Here," he said, handing it to Hermione, who accepted it gratefully as she waited for him to elevate the bed. Once she was lounging, she sipped some of the cool liquid and let out a sigh.

"Thanks," she told him. But what was Chris doing here? Hadn't Ron or Harry stopped Healer Tudor from letting him assist? She knew that he was definitely on the list of suspects, but there was also the fact that if anything happened to Hermione here, the first person to be arrested would be Chris. So she supposed she was safe around him. For now.

"You've been out cold for almost three days," said Chris, much to Hermione's surprise. It honestly didn't feel like it had been that long. "Anyway," he continued, "how do you feel?"

She took another sip of the water and cleared her throat. "I'm okay. I feel quite good, actually." She paused. "What was it?"

"Poisoning," he answered, rather obviously. "You were poisoned."

She shook her head. "I meant the type of poison."

"Oh, um…" he turned red. "They actually won't let me see. Since… well, I'm involved with the case and all. All the Trainees are having breakfast, so Tudor just sent me for BP rounds and asked me to write yours on a paper. I wouldn't have come otherwise."

"Oh," Hermione said blankly. That made sense. Plus, it was relieving to know that Chris actually hadn't been around her in the last few days. Now that she was conscious, he couldn't actually do anything to her either.

Chris smiled. "I'm going to do the routines — you know all of those, right?"

She nodded and gave him her arm. His thin fingers touched her wrist and he counted for a minute, before he checked her BP. "Normal," he said, "but I don't know if it was abnormal since your admission, so…" He produced a syringe and a plain bulb from his pocket. "I need to draw your blood now," he said, uncapping the needle and conjuring a bottle of spirit and some cotton.

She let him do that, hissing as the needle punctured her vein. "I think you've mostly recovered," said Chris, "Tudor said something about discharging you."

He held the blood sample carefully and threw away the syringe. "I'm going to get these into the lab and head for breakfast? Are you hungry?"

Hermione felt a low rumble emanating from the pit of her stomach. Where on earth was Ron? Didn't Harry, or Ron, or Ginny, or anyone—

"You're in the ICU," Chris supplied, as though he were reading her thoughts. "Visiting hours aren't for a while. That's why no one's here. They're all waiting outside, though. They're gonna pounce at me when I go outside to get your breakfast."

"Tell them I'm fine," said Hermione.

"Sure," Chris said. "I'll be back in a moment. Do you—?" he hesitated, "Do you want company? II mean, they're not gonna be allowed in for a while… and…"

"Sure," said Hermione, waving her hand. He wouldn't be able to hurt her now.

"I mean, of course, I won't be picking up your breakfast… suspect Harry or Ginny will, and they'll come right up until your room to make sure… well," he shrugged, "that I don't kill you." He chuckled. "You don't think it was me, do you?"

Hermione didn't reply to that. This was getting really uncomfortable. But she also noticed something else. "Isn't Ron outside, then?" she asked Chris.

"Oh, he was with you, constantly by your side for the last two days. Wouldn't get his arse off that seat, apparently," Chris said, gesturing to a chair beside the bed. "He hadn't eaten anything. Becks was in here earlier so Tudor had her take him for breakfast before he collapsed."

"And he… left?" Hermione asked him. This was strange. Why was Rebecca here?

"He had to. Just half-an-hour ago, though. Not too long. He'll be back anytime now."

"Oh." There was awkward silence and Chris left, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. Rebecca… again. Hermione felt her heart sink lower. Despite everything… why was Ron with Rebecca?

Hermione sighed. She had taken a decision a few days ago, and had wondered if it was right. Now she was sure that it was the right thing to do.

There was a knock at her door and Chris entered the room with two plates in his hands. Ginny was standing right behind him and she waved to Hermione, signalling that she'd come by as soon as visiting hours began. And after watching Chris hand Hermione's plate over, Ginny left, rather reluctantly.

Chris had brought back a plate of cut apples for Hermione and some sandwiches for himself. Hermione didn't smile or thank him. He said something flirtatious after that, but she didn't reply. Ron wasn't here to get jealous. Besides, Hermione suddenly wanted to be alone but she didn't know how to convey that to Chris, who was now looking like a kicked Crup. She didn't really care about Chris, or she'd ask him what the matter was. However, for that moment, she was just too saturated with her frustration with Ron.

Chris eyed Hermione for a while, bewildered by her lack of response. She had been all right a while ago, and he wondered what was going in his head. From her expressions and the way she spoke about Ron, he wondered if they were having problems, but it was none of his business anyway.

He returned to his sandwich as he realised that she was too preoccupied to pay attention to anything he was saying. He left her thoughts and found his own mind drifting away. He remembered running into Daisy on the day after Hermione's poisoning. She had looked so pretty in that skirt…

He shut his eyes, as another memory flashed into his thoughts. He groaned inwardly. He didn't want to remember this, but thinking of Daisy always reminded him of that horrible day. The memory still brought stabbing pains to him. It hurt. It pricked. It killed him to even remember that day. Chris apologised… he had always apologised ever since, but nothing seemed to make Daisy want to give him another chance.

Chris stood, helpless, as their interlaced hands separated. Daisy's soft fingers were no longer clutching his hand. Instead, they were holding on to the straps of her bag, as she prepared to pick it up and walk away.

"Daisy, please try to understand…" Chris said, scared at the look on her face. She looked very, very angry and he knew he should be scared, but he was also determined to get his point across.

"I have a life too, you know!" Chris continued. "And come on… it's all right now…"

She growled in frustration. "YOU ASKED ME TO—"

"But it wasn't possible!"

"Are you even human?"

"Daisy—"

"Keep your mouth shut. I don't want to hear anything from you. Thanks a lot for all your wonderfulness." She turned around and suppressed a sob.

Chris placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, babe, listen… it's all—"

"Go away," she replied, losing control and breaking into sobs. "I have had enough for today."

He turned her around and pulled her into a hug. "We'll always remain friends, okay? This will not ruin our friendship."

She broke away roughly, smacking at Chris's long arms, before jumping back and wiping at her eyes. Then without looking at him, she ran towards the castle, leaving him to stand alone by the lake.

"Hermione? Can I tell you something?"

Chris waited for the older woman to break from her reverie and turn to him. He could feel dull sickness boil in the pit of his stomach, guilt rising up like fumes, and he wished someone would just hear him out. But he didn't want to tell Hermione. She'd tell the Aurors… but he wasn't telling her anything. He was probably the only clownish Healer on this planet who poured his woes to his patients…

"What is it?" Hermione asked him, frowning.

"I – I've made a mistake." Yep, clownish Healer. That should be his name.

Hermione looked confused. "I feel fine," she replied, misunderstanding his 'mistake'. "I'm sure you've done it right. Plus, Healer Tudor was guiding you too, wasn't she?"

He shook his head. "No… it isn't that. You're in perfect health, now. I was just thinking about something else." Or rather, someone else, he thought, looking away. Then the desperation hit him like a rough, cold gust of wind. He wanted to speak about it. He needed to speak about it. He looked at Hermione. What would she understand about his problems? How would his pain even matter to a person who barely knew him?

"Hey," said Hermione, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention before… what were you saying? It's just… Ron… when did you say Ron left for breakfast?"

"Just half an hour ago," Chris replied half-heartedly.

"And they haven't returned yet?"

"I dunno," Chris said. "The tea room is usually crowded, so they might have had to wait for an empty seat. I brought you your stuff from the Healer's Lounge." A voice in his head prompted him to spit it out. Everyone knew about him and Daisy after the incident on Halloween anyway. He knew that the Aurors had listened in. Sly… he thought about a word that would make his mum soap his mouth.

"I'm going to survive, aren't I?" Hermione asked seriously, frowning at the look on Chris's face. "Please tell me the truth, Chris."

"You really are fine… but… she— she's never going to forgive me for it," Chris finally said, the words tumbling out of his mouth desperately. "I just can't believe my stupidity and ignorance… now, when I know what it must have meant to her…"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. "Do you know something about the person who poisoned me? Have you been forced to do this? Who is it? Chris… what is happening? You can tell me—"

"I— I really don't have any clue about who poisoned you, Hermione," Chris said quietly. "I'm talking about Daisy."

There was silence. Chris looked at Hermione, pain swirling into his senses. "I've hurt her so much."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. This was the last thing that she wanted to discuss with Chris after whatever had taken place between her and Ron in these past few days. Teenage attraction was just about leading her to a disaster and she had no intention of hearing Chris's woes about Daisy rejecting him. "She will forgive you if she really loves you," Hermione pointed out. Did she look like some sort of a psychiatrist to Chris?

Chris chuckled sadly. "Hermione, you don't know Daisy. She's horribly stubborn. If she thinks I was the one to ruin her life, she'll think that way for the rest of her life. She will not accept anything I say. Right now, she accepts that she probably misses me, but she hates me at the same time. So there it goes. She'll keep hating and missing me for a lifetime."

Hermione momentarily forgot her own dilemma on hearing his answer. Chris definitely looked like a kicked Crup. She remembered the kind of misunderstandings she had had with wrong… the kind they were having, and decided that she might as well hear Chris out. "How can she hate you and miss you?"

"She can. That's Daisy."

"And you want her back, despite the fact that she hates you?"

Chris shook his head. "But then she doesn't really hate me, Hermione, she… I don't know! I really can't understand girls!" He looked harassed.

Hermione laughed, remembering something between Harry and Cho from a long time ago. "Honestly, how tough is it to understand a girl?"

"Tougher than you think. You are a woman yourself. You won't understand," Chris huffed.

Hermione arched her eyebrow. "But you can understand the general tendencies of human beings, can't you?"

"Yes," Chris said, "But Daisy is a complicated person."

"She may be complicated, Chris, but she has the same emotions as all of us do."

"But that doesn't help!"

"Who said that it doesn't? You can always use the one clichéd weapon that a lot of people in love have used."

"What?"

"Jealousy. Make Daisy jealous. I told Ginny the same when she wanted Harry's attention. And believe me, though he had to leave her for the war, later on, it did work."

"What should I do?"

Hermione shrugged. "You know… go around with a few girls…"

"She already knows that I'm a big flirt. Flirting hugely with anyone doesn't affect her anymore."

"No, don't flirt with anyone. Actually go out with a girl."

Chris flinched as though Hermione had asked him to bomb Daisy's house. "NO!"

Hermione frowned. "What?"

Chris shook his head. "Going out with someone and letting Daisy see that… no, Hermione, she'll die! She's already suffering so much. No… Daisy won't suffer because of me… I'll make sure of that."

Hermione sighed. And she thought of Ron, on the other side, who was on the other side of the bar of insensitivity. And men said they didn't understand women.

"Antifreeze."

Harry eyed the report closely. It said that Hermione had been poisoned with antifreeze, which had been present in her wine, which was why the wine had tasted so sweet. It had just begun to metabolise in Hermione's body but thankfully, they'd got her to the hospital on time.

However, there was a catch. Hermione had accidentally drunk Parvati's wine, which meant that the intended victim was Parvati. His heart hammered. Why Parvati? How did this have anything to do with her? Why was the killer trying to get personal?

Harry sank into his comfortable chair and shut his eyes. Another deadly attack. Another dead end. What on earth was happening? It was all so confusing…

"Here are the fingerprint reports, Harry," said a voice and Harry opened his eyes to see Romilda sitting on one of the chairs opposite his. "The glass was only touched by the waiter, and Hermione herself. No one in between. We already had the waiter under Veritaserum. He didn't do it."

Harry groaned. "I was hoping for a bit of evidence from here. Can't we do the Veritaserum thing on—" he gestured to the files before him — of the teenagers. "It would be much quicker."

"We can't, unless we have a warrant, for which we need hard evidence that one of them must be involved. You know that better than I do," replied Romilda. "But we'll have to get them before they murder anyone else."

Harry's heart fluttered again. If Parvati was the next victim… he really needed to keep her safe. This was getting worse and worse.

"Suspect list still the same, then?" Romilda asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah, pretty much. We aren't getting any leads, anyway. I can add myself into the list and still live happily."

Romilda smiled. "Are you going to see Hermione, now?"

"Yes," Harry said, standing up. He and Romilda exited the office together. "I guess she'll be awake, and visiting hours will start soon, so…" He locked his office and started down the corridor.

"Bye," Romilda called out to him, as she returned to her cubicle.

Harry waved at Romilda and she returned to her cubicle as he walked off.

In twenty minutes, Harry was standing outside Hermione's room in the ICU with Ginny by his side. They could hear Ron and Hermione arguing inside, and Harry had no intention to walking in on them. Instead, he sat on a chair, beside Ginny. "I see that Hermione's finally woken up."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "She's fine, though… and she's pretty upset with Ron. Poor Ron… sometimes I feel sorry for him, too. It isn't really his fault if he's been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person."

"You sound sarcastic."

"Well, I'm not."

"What were the wrong things this time?"

"He has been at her bedside since the last few days — you know that — and he was here, before visiting hours, and Hermione's Healer had Rebecca take him for a spot of breakfast. Unfortunately for Ron, Hermione woke up when he had gone. Chris was in her ward at that time, and he obviously has no idea about the tension between Ron and Hermione, so he told her the truth. Parvati and I did join Rebecca and Ron during their breakfast and really, there's nothing between them that Hermione should be suspicious of." She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Any leads on this attack?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing… this is bad, you know?"

"The attack or the thing that's going on between Ron and Hermione?

"Both. Definitely both."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah… I wish they'd just kiss and make up or something." She made a face when she imagined her brother kissing Hermione and Harry chuckled.

"I thought you're old enough, Ginny."

"Yeah, well, it still looks like he's eating her face. Some things never change."

Ginny adjusted her robes as she shifted on her seat, and her purse fell down. "Ugh," she said, frustrated, bending over to pick it up.

Harry did the same out of instinct and the two of them grabbed the purse at the same time. They looked up into each other's eyes and Harry suddenly felt like he had stopped breathing. He blinked, trying not to think about it. He could smell the flowery scent of her hair, and the hall was silent — Ron and Hermione had momentarily stopped fighting… so all Harry could hear were her deep breaths.

Instinct acted up again. Unaware of what he was doing, Harry leaned forward, his face now dangerously close to hers. Her lips parted.

"Harry…" Ginny began, but something in Harry's gut made him go further. He was very close to Ginny now and had tilted his face sideways—

"What on earth is going on in this place?"

Harry jerked, drawing his hand away from the purse and looked up all at once, glasses flying slightly askew. Parvati had just opened the door to the hallway and was heading towards him and Ginny, a harried look on her face. Harry gulped. What had he just done? Had Parvati seen them?

Ginny was red when Parvati came to them and stood there, arms crossed at her chest. "Listen, Parvati—" she spluttered hopelessly. Behind them, Ron and Hermione were fighting again. Ginny pressed her lips together. "It – it was ridiculous, really, we didn't—"

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Parvati said, frowning, "Hermione is not supposed to overexert herself!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Apparently, Parvati had not really noticed her and Harry. Or she had, and had assumed otherwise because Harry… her heart sank. Harry would never do this. And Ginny didn't want to either. And she promised herself she'd never do it again. She'd stay away from Harry, if that was what it would take.

"I know," Parvati said, taking Ginny's sigh for an expression of exasperation. "Hermione has become too suspicious these days, don't you think? And Ron should really tell her."

Ginny nodded at everything that Parvati said, a single mantra playing itself in head: stay away from Harry. Stay away from Harry…

Ron lay down on his bed. Hermione was finally discharged and he was happy, but also utterly tired. He hadn't slept in days and had been working non-stop, on the poison and the possible suspects. Apart from that, he had felt every inch of dread, every moment of vulnerability strike him when he realised that someone had tried to murder his wife — the woman he loved so much.

His whole body was heavy with exhaustion, physical and mental, and he felt like it was getting harder and harder for him to talk.

Apart from all this, Ron was also tired of being suspected by Hermione. Why the hell was she being so insecure? He, Ron, had done nothing, nothing at all. Hell, why was he being penalised for talking to Rebecca? And didn't she get it? Didn't she realise how she'd scared the living Skrewts out of him by nearly dying? How much he wanted her by his side now, so he could protect her, take care of her?

Ron felt very angry, now, and he turned around, punching his pillow into an appropriate shape. He yawned, and curled up under blankets, missing Hermione's presence him terribly. All he really wanted to do was hold her close and not let another person near her. He wanted to resign from the case and stay by Hermione's side. If someone touched a hair on her head again, they were in for it. Really, seriously in for it. Ron would find this culprit and make sure he or she suffered for a lifetime, and then a few more. They had no business hurting his wife like that, right under his nose.

Moonlight streamed into the room, muted, just like his thoughts. Ron wondered how Harry must feel, now that they'd knew Parvati was the actual target. It definitely couldn't be good. But at least Harry could keep an eye on Parvati, because they weren't having any pointless fights, unlike Ron and Hermione.

Tonight, Ron didn't have to take care of the children, thank Merlin, because Ginny had agreed on babysitting them until things were calmer between Ron and Hermione. Just then, Ron heard a tap at the window. He recognised it — an owl.

Yawning, Ron stood up and walked to the window, opening it. The large, heavy-looking bird flew in, sat at the window sill, and stuck out its leg at him. He untied the scroll and the owl immediately took off, leaving him to stare at the delivery for a few moments. It was from the Ministry of Magic, addressed to Hermione. But why had the owl delivered the letter to him, then? Shouldn't it have gone to Ginny's room? Anyway… what was the trouble in accepting the letter? Hermione was his wife after all — even if they weren't exactly on talking terms.

But why was Hermione being contacted by the Ministry? Was something else the matter? Did this have anything to do with her poisoning? Something was wrong… Ron began to open the letter. Was it ethical? No… but he did deserve to know if Hermione was involved in legal issues. He was her husband, after all.

Ron broke open the seal of the envelope and removed a letter, his senses telling him this was all wrong, but then, he knew he had to do it… because he just had to. He had to know what the matter was. He started to read the calligraphic handwriting inside the scroll.

Dear Mrs Weasley,

This is to inform you that we will be requiring a few documents before we can file your divorce petition. Please report at our office tomorrow—

Divorce.

DIVORCE.

Divorcedivorcedivorcedivorce.

Ron's vision swam. What? He backed away, his knees buckling as he sat on the bed, clutching on to the paper. Cold sweat broke on his forehead. He felt sick to his stomach — like a thousand spiders were crawling up his body… only worse. He'd take those thousand spiders any day.

Ron threw the letter aside, pals sweating profusely. Divorce? Why? What had gone so wrong? They were fine just... why hadn't Hermione said something? Given him a warning? Why was she being so drastic?

No. Nonono, they had to talk this out. This was getting out of hand. He needed to stop freaking out and give Hermione the sodding letter back like he hadn't seen it. He had to wait for her to tell him — because, until then, it wouldn't be official.

When his legs felt like they wouldn't give away under him, Ron stood up, extracted the letter and resealed it. If Hermione wanted divorce… Maybe they could reconcile? But how? Hermione was refusing to even face him these days.

Ron got out of his room, trying not to yell his lungs out, to punch something, and he was halfway through the hallway, when he Ginny walk down the stairs. Good. He wouldn't have to face Hermione. That was good. They'd talk later. Not now. He couldn't handle this now.

His voice was shaky when he called out to his sister. "Ginny?"

She looked at him and frowned, walking towards him. "What happened?"

He gave her the scroll when she had come close enough. He tried to keep his voice even, but he couldn't hide the tremble in his hands. "Just give this to Hermione," he said, and Ginny noticed that something was wrong.

She cast him a long, calculating look. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," he lied. "She— she just received this… so I thought I'd give it." His voice was even. His hand didn't shake. Good job.

Ginny nodded and patted him on the shoulder before leaving. Ron reached his room and shut the door immediately before going to his bed and slumping down on the mattress again. It rose like poison inside him — terrible, burning and painful, and the agony and helplessness filled him in no time, debilitating him, so that he was in a foetal position, and right now, it felt like Hermione had just poisoned him and driven a knife through him to finish the job.

End Notes:

Just as a matter of interest: can anyone guess what Chris has really done to Daisy? And any suspects for the murderer?

Guest Review Responses:

scrappy8: Thank you so much! Glad youre enjoying it.

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