Written for the Multiship Challenge (RonDaphne, calendar) and Open Categories Comp (Trio). This is playing on my personal head canon that Daphne hated Hogwarts under the Carrows and joined the DA.
"Any change?" Ginny asks.
Daphne scowls, biting her tongue. She's sick to death of hearing that question, of being the honorary Healer of the group, of seeing the disappointment in everyone's eyes whenever she can only say that there is no news or bad news. Good news is quickly becoming far too rare. "No," she answers. "He's still in shock. Still not speaking or eating."
Ginny sits on the edge of the makeshift bed next to her brother, lips drawn into a deep frown. Ron doesn't even seem to notice her. "Madam Pomfrey would know what to do."
For a moment, Daphne wants to remind her that Pomfrey is dead. Just like Potter. Just like Granger. Just like so many others the Gryffindor has cared for. But she keeps it in. Even she is not cruel enough to rub salt into the fresh wounds. "I'll call for you if anything changes."
.
She sits beside the dying fire inside the building that has become their hospital wing and her home. For the past three weeks since the battle at Hogwarts, many wounded and dying have passed through, but now there is only Ron and Daphne.
"Your sister is worried," she says sharply, but Ron doesn't even acknowledge that she's spoken. "You're all she's got left, you know."
Silence. Nothing new. Ron has spoken since they'd dragged him from Granger's body.
Daphne sighs. "You can't do this to her. I actually like the girl. She's fierce. She let me join you when she had no reason to trust me."
Ron looks at her, eyes wide but not seeing.
"There isn't anything wrong with you," she continues. "You're just sad. Grief. That's all. Just snap out of it and going back to being the bloody annoying prat that you are."
He sinks back into his pillow, eyes closing.
.
Daphne holds her wand as she watches him sleep. It would be a mercy killing, really. He would be at peace. No more grief, no more sadness, no more wasting away before his sister's eyes.
She could do it. End his misery. Carry on.
"Hermione!"
His voice snaps her out of her thoughts. Daphne hasn't heard it in so long, that she almost believes she's imagined it.
"Hermione! Hermione!"
He thrashes about, lanky body tangling into the sheets.
.
"He spoke. He was asleep, but..."
Ginny looks up, and Daphne hates the hope that's in her eyes. Hope is too fragile. One wrong word, and it could shatter. "What did he say?"
"He called for Granger."
.
Daphne stares at the calendar, lips twisting into a frown. No change. No change. No change. Again and again, those two words scribbled over the blocks. No change. Granger. No change. No change.
She had believed he would get better.
.
"Hermione!"
Daphne opens her eyes, bolting upright, her heart hammering in her chest. Still in her pajamas, she climbs out of her bed, sprinting to Ron's side. "Ron? Can you hear me?"
His eyes open, still heavy with sleep. "Hermione?"
"No. She's gone."
Silence.
"Snap out of it!"
Silence.
She groans, turning on her heel and stalking back to bed.
.
"You look like hell," Daphne says.
"I can say the same about you," Ginny counters, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We were ambushed. Dennis and Ernie are dead."
Daphne nods. She hadn't really cared for either of them. But she knows that Ginny, as their leader, had formed a sort of bond with all the surviving fighters.
"I've sent a Patronus to McGonagall," Ginny adds. "I hate this ridiculous laying low rubbish. I want to fight."
"You're all Ron has left," Daphne reminds her, stabbing her fork at the charred bit of fish on her plate.
At the mention of her brother, Ginny sits a little straighter, the lines of worry on her face deepening. "Is there-?"
"No change."
.
She jots little notes on the calendar. Hermione- change?
Daphne sighs, massaging her temples.
.
"Hermione!"
This time, Daphne is ready for it. She's waiting, watching.
"Hermione!" he cries again, voice raw and breaking.
She touches his hand. "I'm here, Ron."
"Hermione..."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
Daphne feels a tug in her chest. "It's okay. It's okay, Ron. It isn't your fault."
He falls back asleep, an almost smile on her lips.
.
She crams her little notes into the block on the calendar.
Hermione. Change. Ate a little.
.
"Hermione!"
"Ron," Daphne whispers.
His hand reaches out, fingers curling around her wrist. "Hermione..."
She leans down, kissing him. "It's okay. I've got you. Sleep, Ron. You're weak, and you need to get better for Ginny."
He nods, releasing her arm and brushing his fingers across her cheek.
.
In two weeks, he's up, smiling and laughing.
"I don't know how you did it," Ginny says, watching as her brother and Longbottom play chess, "but he's back."
Daphne shrugs. "Pure luck."
.
It's worked. Ron is back to normal with no memory of his extended shock. Her methods of pretending have gone well.
But he looks at her, and he seems to look right through her. He doesn't remember Daphne at his bedside, tending to him and caring for him.
And she is surprised to realize that it hurts her.