Two Worlds of Magic, ch. 20
Chapter Twenty.
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The first thing she saw after opening her eyes was Harry’s sad face. And that somehow made her a bit disappointed, probably because she’d expected to see another person.
She immediately felt shame and guilt to Harry - he was so worried about her that even came here and she was being all selective here.
Hermione rubbed her eyes and slowly managed to sit. Harry sat on the edge of her bed.
Fortunately to her, she could feel the emotionless hole become much smaller. So sleep helped her, didn’t it?
“How are you, Hermione?” Harry asked her softly.
She looked him right in the eye.
“Not quite good, but still much better than yesterday.” She said hoarsely and her voice sounded emotionless. She coughed to get that tone away.
For a moment they both were silent until Hermione asked Harry the question that was on her mind since she woke up.
“Um… where is…” She faked a cough “where’s Dr. House?”
Harry didn’t look surprised with the question.
“He is in the kitchen. So is Wilson by the way.” Harry told her, and she suddenly felt as if a heavy stone that was hanging on her neck disappeared. She could feel the tiny ball of warmth spreading inside of her. “D’ya want me to call House?” Harry asked her, and she nodded, not looking at him and feeling very embarrassed for some reason.
Almost at the door, Harry turned to her again.
“Hermione, you’ll talk to him now, and when you finish, call me, I’ve got something of a great importance to tell you” He sad in a slightly monotone voice and she understood that something was definitely not good.
She watched Harry leave the room to call House and in a moment she heard quiet sounds of House’s cane hitting the floor.
The moment before House entered the room Hermione understood suddenly that she was absolutely excited to see him. Last time she saw him and talked to him (not to mention her poor apparation) was before the battle, when everything was fine, and Ginny and Lupin and everyone else were alive.
Strangely enough, but the thought of Ginny didn’t bring the terrible wave of grief and desperation. She felt pain of course but not the sharp and heart-rending like it was before, but seared.
Well, time is healing after all. She prayed the Lord to feel better and pain to leave and it happened. Not completely left, of course, she doubted it would ever leave completely, but she did feel better.
“Hey you, Miss Cool Witch, and I don’t wanna hear that you didn’t use magic on me when you created that bird in my throat!” House said, entering the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed like Harry did before.
“Hello, Dr House!” She tried to smile and probably succeeded, but still noticed House frown almost unnoticeable.
That probably was because of how he called him. She knew he didn’t like her calling him ‘doctor’ all the time, but she simple couldn’t overpower herself. It was like calling professor Snape just Snape in his face. And even knowing House would have better have her calling him just by his second name, all habits die hard.
“What’s that?” Hermione asked him, frowning, seeing the cut on his hand.
“This?” He repeated, looking at his arm closely. “I thought you’d tell me that!” He said pointing an accusing finger at her. “You know, I couldn’t believe that Wilson couldn’t stick up for himself when his wallet could actually.” House said, his eyes twinkling, again reminding her of Dumbledore with his brilliant blue eyes.
On understanding House meant the wallet she gave Wilson on his birthday, she got deeply red with embarrassment, but in a moment it was washed away, when she remembered the wallet biting only when someone have an intention on stealing.
“So you deserved it!” She exclaimed with conviction. “You shouldn’t have tried to steal Wilson’s money!”
She noticed a tiny, almost invisible smile appear on his face just for a moment.
The next moment he said something that pissed her off completely.
“You know, speaking of your little tricks, by the way,” he began, sly shine in his eyes. “I was wondering whether it was one of your magic tricks because of which I am completely crazy about you.” He said matter-of-factly in a serious tone. “Did you put one of your spells on me?” He asked her accusingly.
“Of course I did not!” Hermione exclaimed loudly both shock and offended, blushing wildly. “How could you ever possibly think I would do such a thing to you?! Do you think I am some empty-headed idiot dreaming only about getting in her boss’ pants?!” She roared at him incredible. “You know, you are not all that sexy and fascinating for me to do such a thing!” She sniffed scornfully.
House only smiled in return, the open happy smile she was sure she hadn’t ever seen before.
And then it hit her, making her smile as well.
He certainly didn’t think that low of her. But he just by, well, being himself, made her feel the storm of her usual emotions - happiness, access of tenderness, joy, offence, indignation, sarcasm. As if there was no battle and no deaths at all. As if it was her usual working day.
She doubted Harry would get such a result even after an hour of talking to her.
She smiled at him warmly.
“Thank you” She managed to whisper, suddenly not managing her own voice, and she felt such a great access of tenderness again and there was such a mess of emotions in her head, and she just couldn’t control them…
The kiss was strange, because House obviously wasn’t expecting it from her. After several moments he seemed like waking up from a trance and only then understanding that she was kissing him.
Then the most wonderful part began, because they were kissing, and Hermione had been wanting it for so long, and, Merlin, House tasted so good, sweet, probably because of the infinite number of his strawberry lollypops he took in the hospital, and his stubble was tickling her cheeks, and she wanted to smile, to laugh because it felt so damn wonderful, and she was able to feel again, to love again, and she loved him so much, and wanted to tell him that he was better, million times better than…
“Malfoy” she breathed.
“Stacey” he said at the same time.
“I meant, you, you are definitely better than-” he began to justify himself but she interrupted him, knowing his logic chain perfectly because she herself thought the same.
“Shh, I know” she said, kissing him again softly and he fell silent immediately. “You are million times better than Malfoy”
He didn’t show it, of course, but she still could see that her state made him relax a bit, as if he was waiting for her to pass sentence on whether he of Malfoy was better.
“That was… magically” House smirked after they broke apart.
“I have to tell you,” Hermione said seriously, but she knew the corners of her lips were twitching. “You were right, that is all a simple Love Potion that I mixed with your coffee on my first day.” She said dramatically.
“You are joking!” House said incredible. “I’m so glad you’re joking again!” He said so softly, that she wouldn’t believe him if he said that ten minutes ago.
“Oh no, I’m not joking, I was too afraid your heart was Cuddy’s forever, so I decided to charm you magically!” she smiled, amazing herself at how quickly he returned her to her normal condition.
“You know,” she said now really serious, putting her head on House’s chest. “Ginny wouldn’t want me to grieve her life all the time, would she?” she asked House in the voice that pleaded him to agree with her. “She’d want me to move on, no?”
“She surely would” House confirmed quietly, and she felt the last doubts leave her. “Otherwise, what’s the point in living if you’re not alive?” He said with some new unknown notes in his tone and she hugged him again, feeling safe and calm in his tight embrance.
“Greg,” she whispered and he started. She knew not many people called him by his first name, and that fact made the moment even more intimate. The word sounded so strange and at the same time so tempting that she wanted to repeat it again and again. “Greg,” she said again, as if tasting the name.
“What?” he said, trying to sound discontented, but she knew he was pleased.
“No, nothing,” she said.
She was silent for the next few moments before saying.
“Oh, you have a stain on your t-shirt,” she said, looking closely at his Pink Floyd shirt.
“So?” House said, as if it was ok.
It definitely wasn’t ok!
“What do you mean ‘so’?” she said disapprovingly. “You need to wash it!”
“Oh no, you didn’t get it, I collect different stains on my shirt” House said sarcastically. “You see, that’s the blood stain when the mad guy shot me,” he showed her the red spot, “that’s Wilson Coca Cola, he poured it out on me when I stole two hundred bucks from him,” he showed her a big dark spot on his left side, ignoring her shocked look, “and that’s my slaver while I was staring at Cuddy’s boobs,” He smirked, “before you, of course” he added quickly.
“So you see now? I can’t wash it; it keeps lots of dear memories!” House said in a hearty tone.
“And I think it keeps only dry blood, sticky Coca cola and something… not quite pleasant, so,” she muttered a Detergent Spell and the stains disappeared immediately.
“No!” House exclaimed incredibly, looking at her as if she’d just killed his beloved puppy. “How could you do that?!” He exclaimed again and again turning around to look at the shirt on the back. “Fuck, that mad guy shot me when, guess what, I was in that shirt!”
“House, calm down, you’ll have your time to stain it!” Hermione reasoned.
“No, the point is - I asked you, and you didn’t wanna listen to me!” House roared.
She should have expected this. Well, she did expect it really, so now it his behaviour wasn’t that bad to her. It would always be difficult to deal with House, she knew that, but that also wouldn’t be boring for sure.
Hermione hemmed, thinking that House’s real essence is a capricious five-year-old boy.
And she was really amazed now with her own ability to stay calm and peaceful, while House was foaming at the mouth.
The door opened and worried Wilson ran in.
“What’s happened?” He asked no one exactly.
“Dr House is very upset with his clean shirt.” Hermione sniffed.
Wilson looked at her, surprised to see such a change in her mood, but kept silent. Instead he looked at House’s shirt.
“Oh no, you didn’t clean his heroic shirt, did you?” Wilson said with both regret and amusement.
“She surely did” House growled.
“Oh, I’m sorry, House” Wilson said, trying to hide his smile. “I’m sure Hermione didn’t mean to-”
She watched, confused, as House walk over to Wilson and suddenly hit him in the nose with his fist. Hermione screamed and so did Wilson.
“House! Whad DE BUCK was dad?!” Wilson shouted, holding his now bleeding and probably broken nose.
His speech reminded Hermione so much about the Department of Mystery when Neville broke his nose and couldn’t pronounce a spell correctly.
Harry ran into the room.
“What happened?” He shouted his wand in the air.
“House has jusd bunched be!” Wilson cried incredibly, and they all watched House stain his shirt with the spots of Wilson’s blood, looking extremely smug.
“House, you broke by noze just do sdain wid by blood your buckin’ shird?!” Wilson demanded but the scary effect was washed away by his funny pronunciation.
“You see,” House smirked, walking to the bedside-table where the glass with orange juice was. “Hermione will surely heal your nose, she’s a witch after all,” he took the glass and began dirt the shirt with the juice that left dark spots on the material. “I couldn’t hit her, I can’t hit women and I love her, so you-”
“What did you say?” Hermione asked him in disbelief, and House understood he said too much.
“I said I couldn’t hit women and then I stopped!” House said weakly and Hermione threw herself on him, kissing him on the lips.
Merlin, she couldn’t believe that twenty minutes ago she woke up being the unhappiest person in the world.
“You know,” she laughed, “I even forgive you your awful childlike behaviour!” she said happily.
“You? Forgive me?” House began arguing again. “I don’t remember asking you forgiveness, actually!”
No one noticed Harry left the room quickly to run to the window.
“Hey!” Wilson exclaimed with indignation. “Herbione, do somedin’ wid by noze, blease, id hurds like hell!”
“Oh, sorry, James!” She took her wand from the bedside-table, where she thought Harry had put it before, and said the spell. The bleeding stopped at once.
“Feel better?” Hermione asked him, and Wilson nodded, rubbing his nose.
“Hermione,” Harry said, walking in the room and holding a piece of parchment in the hand. His tone made it clear for everybody that the news was seriously bed. Harry was deadly pale. “It’s the letter from Mrs. Weasley. Kinglsey… he,” Harry swallowed. “He disappeared. They’ve just arrested Ron for killing Bellatrix.”
He didn’t let her time to think this through.
“Hermione,” He whispered desperately. “They’re coming here for you.”
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