"Oh my God, oh my God."

"Help! Someone call for help!"

"Oh God."

She closed her eyes in attempt to get rid of the fuzzy feeling in her head and the spots dancing behind her eyes. There were loud cries and sirens in the distance; along with a profuse stream of "Oh God," that she didn't know was coming from herself.

She opened her eyes and looked through the splintered windshield, which wasn't so helpful. She turned to her right and looked out the driver side window and saw clearly, as the window was no longer there anymore, instead it being on her lap. After brushing the glass off, she looked out and saw the result of the crash. there were angry black tire marks on the ground, starting fifty yards away and coming to a stop where she was, with gaps in between the path (which she inferred was when the car turned over and back upright), and glass. Lots of it: little shards and some larger, like the size of her closed fist. Some were coated in red - blood, she realized - and her stomach flipped.

She focused her attention on where she was in retrospect of the accident, because she remembered that. It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't the car in front or behind her either. But that didn't explain how her car flipped over and all the glass - and blood - on the road.

She swallowed and moved her hand up, only then realizing that she was shaking like a leaf. She swallowed back bile as she saw a chunk of glass in her arm and moved her hair out of her eyes and let out a dry sob; her hair was wet also.

She reached for her seat belt and it unfastened itself, and she took off her coat and tied around her head, to stop the bleeding there. She threw the door of her car - or what was left of it - and swung her legs out, carefully. A woman, brown hair coming out of its bun, ran to her, tears wetting her face. "Oh God, dear, help is on the way, don't worry."

She nodded even though she still felt nauseous. She inched herself out of the vehicle and the woman looked at her in alarm. "On no, please, you must stay still!"

She shook her head defiantly and it made her head spin. "I don't - I want to get out. Please."

The woman looked at her, calculating, before nodding and helping her down herself. The two of them hobbled over to the woman's car, stepping over the glass, weaving though the cars and frantic people. The two eventually got there and she sat down on the hood.
She was handed water by her, and she took it, thankful. A blanket was placed over her shoulders by the woman's daughter, hands gentle and expression soothing.

She choked out, "How's the other one?" The girl responded for her.

"He's fine; you suffered most of the damage." She paused for a moment, then continued speaking, voice lower. "I can get him over here if you want. I've heard him; he wants to see if you're okay."

She looked up and nodded. "Yeah. Yes, please."

She nodded and went off through the crowd to find him. she made a deal of not looking at her car, instead answering questions asked by the brown haired woman and other passer-byers who looked sick with worry, and sipping water occasionally. She would have called someone, if her phone had not been dead, or broken, even though one was offered many times. She didn't really know what to say, honestly, and she didn't want anyone to worry. So she was set on calling when she was diagnosed, so she could tell them herself, and not worry them with the unknowns.

Someone had found a nurse who had been near her and came to check out the wounds. As he was doing this, the daughter came back with a man in tow.

He looked distraught, a makeshift bandage over his head and red hair coming out from it, blue eyes wide and fearful. He was tall, with broad shoulders and big feet. The first thing she heard him say was his apology and she smiled weakly at him.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, oh my God are you okay, shit-"

"Shh. It's okay, calm down." She turned to the nurse, and asked if he could look at the redheaded man beside her.

His look of betrayal (however long it lasted) caused her to bite the inside of her cheek in amusement. The nurse had him sit down next to her, so he could get a better look at his head. He was sitting beside her, his palms flat on his jeans (now torn) while the nurse worked on him. When the nurse deemed him alright, he had let out a shout of "Finally!" and she glared at him along with the nurse.

Eventually the ambulance came, and the two were loaded into it, much to the gingers chagrin. She lay on her back and an IV was put in her arm, while the redhead was able to sit and it appeased him slightly. As soon as the doors were closed, he apologized again. "Look, I didn't mean to, I have no idea what happened, please-"

He was cut off again, this time by her laughter and he jumped and looked at her strangely. "Please, stop. I don't blame you at all. Stop apologizing."

He nodded, eyebrows knit.

She rolled her eyes. "So, what were you headed for before we got in this mess? I was headed to work; I'm working part time at the orphanage and was off to tutor some kids."

"I was visiting family," she winced.

"And I lost my focus and saw a deer in the road and swerved, and well, you know what happened next." He looked at her in apology again, then looked at his feet.

"What do you do?"

"I'm actually trying to be a cop. Don't know how this will look now, but…"

"It was an accident. Don't worry about it. I doubt anything that happened to me will be long term."
She shrugged and tried to cover up her grimace that she had caused by the movement. "What's your name, anyway?"

He laughed and it warmed her heart, even though it didn't reach his eyes. He held his hand out and she reached for it with her limited movement allowance. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

They shook and she responded with a beaming smile. "Pleasure. I'm Hermione Granger."