Chapter 1 - But I Know Better As My Eyes Adjust

"Hermione."

Hermione came to and was immediately hit by too much too fast. Everything hurt. Everywhere. Her eyes remained shut (to block the oncoming tears) as she let out a low hiss of obscenities and fisted the sheets below her in attempt to alleviate the pain. Realizing that was getting her absolutely nowhere, she made attempts to make the bed swallow her whole. She could do that, right? She was a witch after all.

"Hermione." came the gruff voice again. The voice was slightly patronizing and Hermione couldn't understand why it would be. Jesus, where even was she?

She opened her eyes (seemingly the only thing she could do without dying) and saw one tall order of a Weasley. Bill to be exact. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail as he looked her over. She stared at the ceiling, noticing shells lodged into the plaster. Shell Cottage, Ron told them about this place. Hermione looked back towards Bill. Oh God, was she dead?

"I'm not dead." It came out of her mouth before she could even think about how stupid it sounded. She wasn't sure who exactly she was trying to convince, Bill or herself, but the statement reverberated inside herself enough to know it was true. God, what was she on?

Bill just nodded his head with a small smile, "I know." He sat into the chair beside the bed and pulled a tray— filled with what Hermione could only assume were potions, alongside him.

Hermione watched as Bill read the labels and picked out certain vials. Expectations of any kind of conversation were thrown out the window as she saw how concentrated he was. Her eyes roamed to the bottle of Skele-Gro, and was immediately reminded of why exactly she felt like The Hogwarts Express decided to run her over.

Her breath caught in her throat and her lungs constricted. Oh. She felt nauseous as blackness crept in the corners of her eyesight. In her head, but only for a moment, a sick game show of Wheel of Fortune played out. Oddly enough Alex Trebek was hosting.

Hermione spun the wheel — hoping for 'Choke on Snails,' or at the very least, 'Drown In a Pensieve.'

The clicks of the wheel slowed and the needle hovered dangerously over 'Hit By a Train' and 'Be Tortured By a Blood Supremacist.' It landed on the latter, and the audience cheered. Alex Trebek smiled and patted her on the back.

It wasn't funny, so she had no idea why she was laughing. Or maybe calling the choking for breath and tears in her eyes 'laughing' was a reach.

Bill immediately dropped the vials onto the tray and moved closer to the bed.

"Hermione." His voice was low and assuring. Hermione shut her eyes and shook her head, her breath ragged. "You're at Shell Cottage," he paused to gauge her reaction. "Harry and Ron are here too." Her breathing slowed slightly and Bill took it as a sign to keep with this direction. He took her hand and his eyes fell to the bandage on her arm before he quickly collected himself and continued. "They're in the kitchen, eating all of my food." Hermione smiled at Bill's joking tone as her breathing evened out. "Dean and Luna are helping Fleur with dinner." Hermione nodded to silently communicate to Bill to keep going. "Luna checked the kitchen for Nargles, whatever those are."

Bill took in a slow breath, not yet sure if Hermione remembered her arrival to Shell Cottage. He was about to inform her of Ollivander and Griphook when she interrupted him.

"Dobby.." It came out breathy and she wasn't sure if Bill had heard her. "Dobby died didn't he?" She looked Bill in his eyes, hoping for some sort of communication other than a 'yes'.

Bill looked down, pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Hermione turned away, closed her eyes tightly and pushed her head further into the pillow. Bill's hand left hers.

She sat there for a few moments, listening to the clinking of glass, as Bill worked silently.

"I came in here to give you your potions," Bill said weakly. His eyes kept flicking over her body in mild concern. Her eyes followed his to the bandage on her arm and before she could ask, Bill opened his mouth. "Fleur couldn't get rid of the scarring," he shook his head. "She even—" Bill's brows drew together as he clamped his mouth shut before saying anything more.

Hermione, too tired to contemplate what that meant, swallowed thickly before speaking. "I guess I get to join scar club." What? Why the hell did she say that?

Bill gave a slight snort. "Welcome," he smiled. "But there's meetings on Thursdays," he said seriously.

A barely-there laugh escaped Hermione's lips, "I'll have to check my schedule."

Hermione eyed the potions near her bedside again, focusing on the Skele-Gro once again. "Is that for me?" She felt the soreness, but she didn't feel anything broken.

Bill followed her eyes to the potion and shook his head "Griphook," he explained plainly. "His legs." The conversation was growing tense, she could tell Bill wanted to say something, or ask. He handed her a small vial after he swirled it around in his fingers and explained, "For the pain."

Hermione downed the contents and grimaced immediately after. "That's horrid," she coughed.

Bill put his hands up in mock surrender and laughed, "Fleur made it, you can go thank her." Hermione smiled lightly and rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to." Bill nodded and raised his eyebrows, "She uh, actually has been your main caretaker, since…" He seemed a bit lost in what he was trying to say. "She's been real nice and gentle," he finished.

"Oh," said Hermione. Was that what Bill had wanted to say? Was he trying to score brownie points for Fleur? Hermione was sure she didn't need any, not after this.

Bill looked around the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a chair with folded clothes. Hermione's eyes followed him as he picked them up and handed them to her. "They're Fleur's," he said with a barely suppressed smile. Hermione sat up with a small wince and her hands came up to receive them. She looked up at Bill once more, and caught his mildly amused expression. Hermione bemusedly lifted an eyebrow at his behavior, and was about to ask Bill why he was acting so strangely, but before she could get any words out he turned around and headed for the door.

"Dinner should be ready anytime now," he said casually. He paused, turned around and rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. "Though, Fleur can't cook for shit, so hopefully Dean and Luna can save us all," he finished with a laugh. He turned towards the door again to leave but Hermione stopped him.

"Bill."

He turned around to face her with his eyebrows lifted.

Hermione opened her mouth to continue but found that she wasn't really sure what she was going to say next. 'What the fuck are you on?' wasn't really appropriate to say, so she settled. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Bill smiled softly and walked through the door, leaving Hermione to let out a great huff. Now wasn't the time to participate in mind games, especially ones from Weasleys.

Hermione looked down at the clothes Bill had grabbed for her and sighed. This was gonna be a long night.

Chapter title inspired by the music of: The Antlers – Epilogue