Chapter 27

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PART 2- CRISIS

Hermione POV

It feels like someone is pounding their fist against my skull. Repeatedly.
This headache won't be going away anytime soon.

I think I passed out...

Okay, fine. No shit I've passed out. Just the details as to why, I'm having trouble coming up with.

I try to open my eyes but it is far, far too bright outside and my eyes are far, far too sensitive. I slam my eyes shut and white spots disrupt the blackness behind my eyelids.

I try again. And fail. This time only catching a glimpse of something green. My memory is practically -- no, my memory is literally shot. Shot as in dead and gone and not coming back any time soon.

I don't even remember where I am or why. For goodness sake I can't even open my eyes without getting disoriented.

What's happened to me?

I am contemplating just laying like this until something comes and eats me when something suddenly nudges me.

I'm not too alarmed, it was only a gentle nudge. So soft that I could've missed it if I hadn't been silently panicking about never getting out of this trapped state.

What if I was like this forever? I wouldn't be able to survive very long without proper nourishment and hygiene. If only I were some rare creature that could filter feed like sponges- except not in water. Just, like, filter air.

What am I on about? That's completely stupid. I'm becoming more and more delirious as the minutes pass by.

I'm Hermione Granger! I should have *some* kind of solution for this.

I ponder this for a few moments and can't come up with anything useful.

Then there is another nudge. And another. And another. Each nudge becoming more forceful as they went on.

Now I'm a little nervous. Could it be nighttime already? Is a werewolf debating whether a witch lying alone and passed out on the forest floor is a worthy target? How long have I been laying here unprotected?

A lightbulb goes off inside my head. I'm in a forest! So my memory hasn't completely gone kaput after all.

Now there's the problem of werewolves or other potentially harmful creatures poking and dragging me throughout an unexplored forest without any means of keeping me alive.

I panic and try to move my leg. Nothing.

Arm. Nothing.

Anything. Nothing.

Only my eyelids dared to move, but betrayed me as the sunlight burned them.

At least the mysterious creature is nudging me in the daylight instead of the starlight. How comforting.

Once again I resort to thinking about creatures 'putting me out of my misery' as freezing water is dumped on my face. My eyes spring wide open as if they were able the whole time.

Suddenly images of trees and leaves and soft, beautiful grass berate my vision and my ears pick up the soothing sound of a babbling brook nearby.

I was awake. Out of my zombie state and experiencing the wonders of eyesight again.

Granted, my body had only jolted and I was barely capable of lifting my pinkie, but I was awake. Fully. 

Pale hands sporting thin fingers wrap around my shoulders and gently turn me over from lying on my face onto my back.

My vision was in fact registering images, but at their lowest quality. I could be officially diagnosed with being a bleary-eyed, apparently sarcastic witch that just woke up from a mini coma ready to get answers. And something to drink.

My hearing registers a clap. The clap came from my right, so I painfully adjust my head and squint my eyes in that direction. I spot deep red hair attached to an incredibly lean and pale figure.

I immediately get excited.

My memory serves me again as I immediately register him as Ronald.

"Bron," I murmur. "Bron, bronronbron."

What a failure. Now my mouth wasn't cooperating. Ron is such an easy word to say, but now I just sound drunk.

He cocks his head to the side and a faint smile appears on a face filled with worry.
"'Mione?" he says, lightly stroking my cheek.

I blink repeatedly, trying to focus on his face. "Bron?"

He provides a soft laugh and leans down to embrace me. I still don't have control of my body, so he's doing most of the work.

I'm positioned in his lap with my head laying on his shoulder as he clutches me and releases shaky breaths.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, 'Mione. I thought you were gone," he whispers and holds me closer. His embrace is wonderfully familiar and I desperately try to make my body move closer.

"Ron," I finally manage to say. He pulls back and looks at my face, holding up my head since I can't support myself. He smiles and nods.

"Yes, it's Ron. It's me. I've missed you so much. I'm so sorry I let this happen- that I let Malfoy take use you like this." He snarls at his last remark.

I give him a bewildered look as I regain control over my face. He looks back at me, equally bewildered.

"Malfoy? You know what he did to you, right? Hermione?"

I blink faster and jerk my head to the side. My face slams into the grass and Ron jumps to help me.

"Hermione, it's okay. You're not yourself, and I can only assume you were cursed or something. You don't have to do everything by yourself all the time. I can protect you now- now that you're back." Ron strokes my head and leans down to kiss my forehead.
This makes me slightly uncomfortable. I don't know why, but it does.

"Don't worry, I'll get you back to Hogwarts right away. I've got you."

I nod and give him a tiny grin as I'm picked up by my savior and carried to the castle in the distance.

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