Ginny Weasley (7thweasley) wrote in eighth_rpg, @ 2011-01-09 10:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | george weasley, ginny weasley |
Who: Ginny Weasley and George Weasley. The healers had been researching almost around the clock to find a way to reverse the curse that Ginny had been hit with. The healer on the scene had managed to halt the progress of the curse, ensuring that it wouldn't kill her, but the more time that passed, the less likely it was that Ginny was going to wake up, and the expressions on the healers faces had reflected that. They had tried various potions and spells, some obscure, some not, but so far nothing had worked. At the beginning, George had been quite the pest to anyone who would come in, asking them questions, demanding they do more, even going so far as to offer to pay for the renovations of a wing of the hospital's choice. As the Healers' expressions grew grimmer, and as time slowed to a crawl, George stopped talking to them altogether. When the innovative Healer had tried his treatment, George remained in his seat, trying to work up a glimmer of hope. Ugh, that shouting was so loud and why did Mum always have to open the curtains so bloody early? "Shut up, George," Ginny mumbled, unaware of her surroundings yet as her mind automatically assumed she was at home. George couldn't help but laugh at being told to shut up. The very idea was ludicrous. Shut up, hah! He quite wanted to shout some more, but then there was a Healer in the room who had to do very important Healer things, and George didn't want to get kicked out of the room at this point. So he just nodded to the nice man with the lime green robes and played the part of the good boy until the Healer left. Ginny felt the squeeze of her hand, and heard George's voice, but it wasn't until she managed to pry her eyes open, blinking a lot against the light until her eyes adjusted, that she made sense of what was going on. "What? Where am I?" she asked George in bewilderment, sounding very young in that moment. Her mind was so foggy and the thumping wasn't helping her to think clearly yet either. George opened his mouth to answer her first questions, but was interrupted by the Healer. Man, that guy was annoying. Okay, George appreciated everything he was doing for his sister, but would it be so terrible to have five seconds alone with her when she was so clearly all right? There was an attack... George reached out to run a hand over her forehead in an attempt to soothe her. "Shh," he said, "she's fine. She woke up yesterday. Ron's with her. You both had us pretty scared, though." He offered a faint smile. "I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't do it again." Ginny was relieved to hear that Hermione was okay. Memories of what had happened were coming back to her in bits and pieces, but it was mainly feelings. It had been so dark that there were no images to associate with the feelings though. She smiled at him, seeing how scared he had been and it touched her deeply. "I'll try my best." "Fluffy couldn't have kept me away," George said with a wink as he leaned away from the bed to collect a glass of water from the table beside them. The glass had been intended for him, but he hadn't touched it. It wasn't very cold, but it would have to do. Ginny lifted her head enough to be able to take a few sips of water, then settled back down on the bed. Her strength was slowly returning, but it would be a couple of days before she managed anything too strenuous. "How long have I been here?" she asked curiously, unsure how much time had passed. She and Hermione went shopping on Thursday, she thought she remembered but didn't trust her memory right now. "It's Saturday," George replied, setting the glass back onto the bedside table. "I think, anyway. I haven't exactly been paying attention. It got dark outside twice, so it's probably Saturday." "Wow," Ginny replied, marvelling at how long she had been out. She wasn't sure what had been wrong with her, but apart from being exhausted, she was feeling alright now. "And you were here all that time? Tell you got some sleep and were eating properly," she said in a good imitation of their mother, though that was completely unintentional. She just knew what George was like during a family crisis. "I might have dozed off for twenty minutes sometime yesterday," George said with a shrug. He would have to have been blind and stupid to have missed the brief resemblance to the late Molly Weasley, and he couldn't help but flash on the thought of what their parents would have done through all of this. That thought shifted to the realization that the remainder of his brothers were probably waiting by their windows with their journals in their laps, eager for any news. In a minute. "George," Ginny said despairingly. "What am I going to do with you?" "Adore me forever?" George asked with a smile, "because I'm pretty awesome, I think." "Yeah, you are," Ginny couldn't help agreeing with him, grinning back at him. "And you know I do." "You're sweet," George said, ruffling her hair again. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and stood up.
What: Ginny wakes up.
Where: St Mungo's.
When: Saturday evening.
Rating: Low.
Time had ceased having any meaning. Every now and then, someone would come in to prod his sister with a wand or other instrument, and the light outside the room changed from sunlight to lamp light now and then, but beyond that George was completely unaware of the passage of the hours.
Knowing that Hermione had pulled out of it had given George a sense of hope at first, but as the day ticked away into another sleepless night, that hope vanished. If others were waking up, and Ginny hadn't come out of it by now...
He sighed and snapped the book he was holding shut. His voice had gone hoarse the day before after reading the entirety of some romance book he'd found in her room aloud. He hadn't slept since the night before the attack, nor had he eaten. Percy had brought him a tray from the tearoom upstairs, but it remained untouched.
"Keep your strength up," he'd been told by nearly everyone who had visited, but his strength wasn't what mattered. If he fell asleep, or stepped out to grab a bite, he might not be there when she needed him. For now, he would wait.
That morning, one of the healers, the one who had been most dedicated when the others had decided it was a lost cause, had decided to try a combination of potions and a spell he had found in an old book of healing he had been given by his mentor. He had warned George that this was a long shot, but it was worth a try. Nothing had changed, and the healer had stayed a while, then excused himself to go and do some more reading on the subject.
It was hours later that any change in Ginny's condition became obvious. The first change wasn't noticeable unless there was a spell cast on her to monitor her heart as it began to slowly start beating faster, gradually moving back to its normal speed. Her breathing was outwardly noticeable. The shallow breaths she had been taking gradually deepened and as the blood pumped around her body with more force, her pale skin grew pinker. Only once her organs were working normally again was Ginny able to wake.
Her eyes fluttered a bit, but the light was bright and she had a throbbing headache. "Ugh," she mumbled, her fingers twitching and then her hand slowly raised to cover her eyes, her brain sluggishly kicking into gear, mostly registering pain initially.
He hated to be so pessimistic, but too many horrible things had happened to him in the past several months. He knew that, if it was up to anyone to bring Ginny out of this, it would be herself. His sister had the strongest force of will of anyone he knew.
George settled into a quiet vigil, staring at a point in space some two inches in front of her forehead. He didn't notice her breathing change, his mind was elsewhere, on a makeshift Quidditch pitch somewhere with his siblings. He blinked in surprise as she made a sound, his blank face breaking into a smile.
"Hey," he said quietly, and then sat up straight and shouted toward the door, "Hey! Somebody!" Okay, so he wasn't exactly good with words at this point, but he had much more important things to worry about. Things like dumping the book onto the floor and scooting his chair closer to the bed.
"Come on, come back.." he whispered.
A healer rushed into the room and looked stunned to see Ginny rubbing her head. Pulling out his wand, he cast 'lumos' and opened each eye one at a time to flash the light in, watching intently.
Ginny made a noise of distress at the bright light shining in her eyes and tried to turn her head away. "Hurts."
The healer let go and looked over at George with a smile. "She's on her way back, Mr Weasley. I'll go and get her something for the pain. She'll be groggy as she comes to but she's through the worst of it."
To notify the others hadn't yet occurred to him. That would come later. For now, he squeezed his sister's hand. "Hey there," he said, quietly this time, "welcome back." It was a stupid thing to say, and he knew it. This was one of those times where the famous Weasley Twin wit should have come into play, but his brain was far too flooded with relief to be at its full punny power.
The healer returned with a potion for her. "For the pain," was all he needed to say to get Ginny to drink it, though she made a face after she swallowed it. The healer left the room and Ginny glanced wearily at George, squeezing his hand weakly. "What happened?"
He waited until the Healer had left before shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding Ginny's hand between both of his. His expression darkened from happiness and relief to seriousness. "There was an attack. They don't know much, yet..."
He trailed off, not wanting to upset her too much this early on. But he knew her, she would not give up. "What do you remember?"
Ginny blinked, trying to remember. "It was dark," she said slowly, that was the first thing she remembered. "Really dark. And screaming. Lots of people were screaming."
Where was it? She felt like it was right on the tip of her tongue and it was so frustrating to not be able to remember. Frowning, she gazed up at him, glad at least to feel her headache receding. That might help to clear the fog. With a sudden flash of recognition, she gasped.
"Hermione! I was with Hermione! Is she okay?"
He took his hand back and ran it through his hair. He was shaking a little bit and only now noticed. Part of that might be due to not having eaten or slept in god knows how long.
"Do you need anything?"
"A drink would be brilliant. That potion really did taste disgusting." She made a face again, eager to get rid of that awful acrid taste in her mouth. "Thanks," she said, then added softly, "For being here when I woke up." It was a lot nicer than waking up alone and afraid.
"Careful," he said, bringing the water closer and reaching to help her take a sip.
"It's been a rough few days," he said with a smile, "listening to you snore." Of course she hadn't, but he might even have welcomed the noise if she had. "But, I couldn't leave you alone."
"Damn it! This is going to throw my training schedule off," she realised, the thought coming to her out of the blue.
He pulled a watch out of his pocket and peered at it. His eyesight was a little funny from the lack of sleep, but he nodded. "Yeah. You were out a while..." He decided to leave out the details of her condition while she was out. Just for now.
He laughed a bit at her exclamation and ruffled her hair. "That's my sister, worried about Quidditch tryouts at a time like this." He grinned. "The team will still be there, don't worry."
She caught sight of the lunch tray on the table by the door and shot George a dark look.
He followed her gaze toward the tray and his ears turned that famous Weasley pink as he shrunk under her gaze. "You know that hospital food," he said lamely, "probably made out of sawdust..."
She took a deep breath, and realised that she actually could now, which brought with it the memory of gasping for breath. That had been terrifying and she felt a flash of that now but she was safe. George was there, and she was sure others would be soon too.
She wasn't all that thrilled by the idea of hospital food either. "Then get us something nicer to eat. Or better yet, get someone else to get some on their way in."
He squeezed her hand with one of his own and rubbed his eyes with the other. He hadn't realized quite how exhausted he was.
"I'm still not leaving," he said, "unless you make me. And I'm really no match for you, but I imagine there's a brother or two out there who'd love to bring you something."
He really did look exhausted, and she was worried about him. She was going to make him leave when one of the others arrived, because she knew he wouldn't leave her alone. He clearly needed sleep though.
"Get them to bring dinner in with them and we'll have it together," she commanded in a way that only a baby sister could get away with. She would wait to mention him sleeping until after her other brothers had arrived to back her up.
"It will only take a minute. I'll see if I can't convince our sister-in-law to whip up something homemade and hopefully not made out of snails." He grinned and collected his wand so he could send out the alert to the family.