The distance to Shell Cottage that had seemed so short before was now feeling impossibly long. Ron's legs were aching. The sea breeze stung his eyes, and tears were pouring out of them. Just from the wind, or for other reasons, he did not know. Hermione hadn't loosened her clutch on his shirt, even in unconsciousness. Her face was pressed against his chest, and Ron held her body close to him. Violent shivers were passing through her body, and Ron gripped her tighter, whispering under his breath as he walked on, getting closer and closer to Shell Cottage, to safety.
"Shh, you're okay Hermione. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you. Shh." He repeated this over and over, but Hermione was still whimpering, still letting out mini-shrieks, and still saying over and over, "It hurts Ron, it hurts. Make her stop Ron. It hurts! She's hurting me!"
Finally, Ron reached the door of Shell Cottage just as it was being flung open, Bill stared at Ron, his eyes flickering between him and Hermione, a frantic expression crossing his face.
"Wha-," Bill began, but Ron cut him off. "Help," he said sharply. "She…, I…, we need help! She's been hurt. She- she was really hurt. Lots of.. Lots of blood. Help." Bill moved aside immediately, ushering Ron upstairs, to the small bedroom at the top of the stairs. He pushed the door open with his foot, and placed Hermione on the bed, dropping to his knees. He took his arms out from under her, and grabbed hold of her hand. The absence of Ron's warmth sent another violent shiver down Hermione's spine. She thrashed blindly, trying to find him again.
"Ron! RON! IT HURTS!" She screamed shrilly, "RON! SHE'S HURTING ME!"
Bill stood, shocked in the doorway as Ron grabbed her hands, and half shouted, "Shh, Hermione. I'm here. You're okay now. You're safe."
Fleur rushed in with a thick, gray potion.
"This will stop the pain, and get her to wake up and come to her senses." Fleur said to Ron in her thick, French accent. Ron nodded, not meeting her eyes, he couldn't, not with the heavy flow of tears streaming down his face. This was his fault. He couldn't save her from Bellatrix. He had left her alone, while he sat in the dungeon downstairs, listening to her shrieks, to her cries of pain. He had been unable to do anything but scream her name, and sob. And there he was, sitting there sobbing when he had escaped with only a few scrapes and bruises, while Hermione was here, in front of him, so completely broken, it was bringing him to tears.
Ron, still crying, lifted Hermione up into a sitting position and tilted her chin back, Fleur gently tipped the thick, gray potion towards her mouth. Hermione coughed and sputtered, but managed to get the whole of the potion down her throat. About 20 seconds after she had finished the potion, she opened her bloodshot eyes, and immediately they found Ron's piercing blue ones. His were surely bloodshot too, from all the crying he had done in the past hours. He brought his hand from behind her head, back down to his side, but still clutched onto Hermione's hands with the other one.
Hermione immediately threw herself at Ron and started sobbing. Ron stroked her hair with one hand, and made slow circles on her back with the other, silent tears falling into her tangled hair. A few choked sobs broke free from his throat, and he winced as he felt Hermione's face bury farther into the crook of his neck. He shivered as Hermione's staggered breathing hit his exposed skin, making the hairs stand on end. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her wonderful smell. But, the wonderful flower scent was mixed with blood, and a foreign scent that found it's way on to Harry, Ron, and Hermione from months spent camping. This fact alone brought tears to Ron's eyes.
So weak. Dammit. You're supposed to be strong. For HER. Ron thought, feeling Hermione's hands gather fist-fills of his shirt, pulling herself closer to him. And despite the circumstances, electricity still pulsed through his veins as her upper body was pressed against his. She shivered, her sobs subsiding as the calming of the potion took full effect. Hermione pulled back slightly, letting go of Ron and taking soft, shuddering breaths. The door shut quietly. Ron pulled himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and placed his hands on either side of Hermione's face. He wiped away the stray tears with his thumbs, and looked over her broken face. Her chocolate brown eyes were bloodshot, her face was blotchy from so many shed tears, she had dirt across her cheekbone, and dried blood was pooled by the corner of her swollen, chapped lips. But god, she was beautiful. Even at her worst hour, she was damn beautiful.
"I'm so sorry Hermione. I'm so sorry," Ron said, looking into her broken eyes.
"It's not your fault Ron," Hermione's voice cracked as a crease above her nose appeared from stress and worry. Ron didn't argue. He didn't want to upset her. He slowly lowered his hands, and placed them in hers. She looked down, a faint glimmer of happiness in her eyes for a millisecond.
"Where does it hurt Hermione?" Ron asked, eyeing the dried blood on her neck, from where Bellatrix had pierced her skin with her knife. He winced, wanting so bad to cradle her face in his hands and kiss her.
"Everywhere," Hermione said, closing her eyes and loosening her grip on Ron's hands.
Ron's eyes flooded with tears as he stood up, "I'm sorry Hermione. I'm sorry." He said, choking on his words.
He pulled the box of medications, bandages and ointments towards him. Hermione's legs now dangled from the bed, and Ron sat on a wooden chair in front of her. Ron stood up, and pulled Hermione's wet coat off of her carefully, tossing it to the side, and turned back to her. The long sleeved shirt was a wreck. He rolled up her sleeves. Ron stood, motionless, his face stony, as he took in her bloody arms. Both were covered in dry blood, some still wet. He opened the kit and pulled out his wand, cleaning up the dried blood from both of her arms, and taking out an ointment, he turned to her right arm and began to cover the thick slash with healing ointment, wrapping her arm in a thick, gauze. She winced and Ron's hand flew up to her face, cradling it in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Ronald, stop it." She said, the crease re-appearing, "Please, don't blame yourself," She said weakly, taking his hands in hers and bringing them away from her face. Ron took a deep breath, and turned to the cut across her neck. He went along like that for a while, applying ointment and bandaging her cuts up. Finally, he turned to her left arm. He held her wrist, turning her arm over to see the source of all the blood. And there it was, one ugly little word, scrawled across her arm. mudblood. It hit him like a blow to the stomach. This was the last thing he had expected. In just one glance, Ron's heart broke. A physical pain flashed in his chest, a piece of him was crushed, and torn. A sob escaped from his throat, and Hermione yanked her arm out of his grip, covering the word.
"That complete bitch. I hate her. I-I'm going to kill her." Ron said angrily, clutching Hermione to him. "I'm so sorry Hermione, this is all my fault. Look what she did to you. She's an awful human being. It's all my fault, it's all my fault. I wasn't there to stop her. Hermione. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I will NEVER leave you ever again, ever. I will always be here, to keep you safe. Hermione, I-" He stopped abruptly, Hermione was crying. I can't do anything right. I just make everything worse for her. Ron thought, She doesn't even need me. Hermione's tears subsided a little. As they pulled away from each other, he reached up and tucked a stray piece of Hermione's hair behind her ear, leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply. Then, Ron performed a scar charm to make sure that the ugly word wouldn't stay scrawled into her arm forever and wrapped it with gauze.
"I'll be back, Hermione." Ron said gently. She nodded. He opened the door and was face to face with Bill, holding a tray full of food and a nightgown.
"You can stay in there with her if you'd like," Bill said hesitantly, nodding to the other bed in the room, "Luna is staying in the other bedroom, and Harry will be staying on the couch," Bill handed over the tray and nightgown, giving him a look of concern. Bill lowered his voice, "Hermione's going to need you. And you're going to need her." With that Bill turned towards the staircase, but stopped suddenly, "are you alright Ron?" Bill asked.
"Been better," Ron replied, giving a shrug. "Thank you so much for all of your help. And for Fleur's help too of course." Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder, pressed his lips together and went back down the stairs. Ron brought the tray and nightgown into Hermione and left her to change, as he changed in the downstairs bathroom. When he returned, Hermione was propped up in bed, picking at her meal. Ron cleared his throat and sat at the edge of her bed. "Is it alright if I stay in here with you?" Ron asked, looking down at the bed, "The others have found their own sleeping arrangements.. And.."
"Of course," Hermione looked up suddenly, wincing from the movement.
Authors Note: I intensified Hermione's injuries to inscrease the drama and pain. Also, I live in the USA, so I'm sorry that this story doesn't exactly have a British tone to it, if there is something very American in here that you find, please tell me! Reviews are welcomed. This is my first fanfiction and any criticism is welcome! Also, this title might be changed.(Just so you know.)
