A/N: Hello! This will be a three part piece with short chapters. Also, I'm not J.K. Rowling or making any profit off of this little story. Enjoy!
Hermione grunted with excursion as she dragged Harry's body through the tent entrance. Harry started moaning and thrashing again and her grip under his arms was beginning to slip. She heaved him another meter before losing her hold on him and fell backwards onto her bum. This was impossible. How was she going to get him onto his bunk? How could she be sure that the snake's poison hadn't already found its way into his veins? What if she hadn't acted fast enough? What if Harry died here, tonight, alone with her in this damn tent? Dropping her head into her hands, she cried.
The convulsions that wracked Harry's body eventually stopped and he lay still on the floor of the tent. Hermione sat and stared at his motionless frame for a long while before standing and withdrawing her wand and muttered the Hover Charm. Harry hovered above the ground and Hermione grasped his arm and pulled him through the tent to his bunk. After checking on his wounds, both from the snake bite and where she had severed the locket from his chest, Hermione made herself a cup of tea and went to the tent entrance.
For the first time, Hermione truly felt as though she was simply passing the time before death took her and Harry. Godric's Hollow had been a disaster. She didn't even know if Harry would make it through the night, let alone to the next month. How she managed to skive by with only a gash on her forehead was beyond her. She should be dead. Between the snake tackling her, her reckless Blasting Curse, and the fall through the window, she should be dead. Voldemort had been on the way. He had been coming to kill them; it would have been only seconds before he arrived. They should both be dead.
Hermione peeked in on Harry, he was still unconscious. She hadn't felt this alone and helpless since Ron left. Sudden waves of anxiety seized her body. She hadn't thought of him in days. Grief hadn't gripped her so fiercely in weeks. What she wouldn't give for him to be here now, safe and whole. The image of him with them at Godric's Hollow suddenly took hold of her. Her and Harry had barely made it out on their own, she could only imagine the amount of luck they would have needed had Ron been with them. It was ludicrous enough with just the two of them. And knowing Ron, he probably would have done something daft like put himself between the snake and them. Her heart contracted painfully at the thought of Ron dying in Godric's Hollow. She felt ill and clutched her stomach as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Thank God," she sobbed. "Thank God he wasn't with us."
A/N: P.S. that last bit there is something that stuck with me from another fic I read years ago. I can't find it to give the author proper credit, but if I stumble upon it before this fic is through I'll let you know. Thanks for reading!