The Myth of Your Soul
"Hermione!" Harry shouted. "Hermione breathe!" Ron held her in his arms as Harry knelt over her. Blood was getting all over them and the ground and pooling out around them in one massive puddle. "Dobby!" Hermione heard harry shout.
She tried so hard to open her eyes or concentrate on the voices spinning around her. Her entire body was shaking from the pain of the various cuts, bruises, and cruciatus curses that Bellatrix bombarded her with only moments before. Ron let out a small yelp of pain as she dug her fingernails into his stomach while she cried astonishing pain. "Please." She whimpered. "Make it stop."
Ron picked her up in his arms and ran from the cornfield, in which they had just landed, to the Burrow. "Mum!" Ron screamed at the top of his lungs. "Dad! Somebody! Anybody! Help, please. Oh God, no Hermione, stay with me."
Both he and Harry were in tears by the time Molly ran through the door. She stopped after a few feet and stared in horror at the scene before her. "Oh God!" She yelled as she made her way to the bleeding girl.
Hermione was soon laid down on a soft couch with someone leaning over her. Her chest rose and fell with each harrowing and shallow breath. Molly gingerly placed a hand on Hermione's abdomen and got a heart wrenching scream in response. The touch was so light but it still caused great pain. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Molly with teary eyes threatening to overflow. "Please." She begged once more.
"I can't watch this." A husky and manly voice said from across the room. She saw a flash of red hair as the man who spoke exited and was followed by a man identical to him. Her breathe caught in her throat at the emotion in his voice.
Within a few moments Molly began looking her over with extreme caution. Her lips pursed as she thought hard and long. She tried Dittany and healing spells, but nothing seemed to be helping her in any way. "Sweetheart," Molly said in her motherly intonation. "I think these wounds are going to have to heal on their own, love. I'm sorry. I'll try to do what I can to ease your suffering but it won't be easy and I need supplies.
Hermione only nodded in response and then began looking around the room , curious as to who was there. She saw all of the Weasleys, save Charlie who was still in Romania and the twins who had just walked out, plus Harry standing around the couch. She tried to smile as best she could at all of them to let them know she would be okay. They all returned the gesture. Hermione looked back over to Molly. "Can I have a bed?" The question came out barely above the whisper of a breath.
"Of course, dear." Molly said with shining eyes. Arthur, bless him, was nice enough to carry her up the stairs to a room with one queen sized bed in it. He laid her down on the left side and conjured up a chair, a bowl with water in it, and a rag. Mrs. Weasley looked at the others and smiled.
"I know what will help you heal fast, sweetheart. But I need a bunch of people to help me get it." Molly explained. "I'll need two people to stay with her while the rest of us go out. And I know you two will be the ones who want to stay with her." She said motioning to Harry and Ron. "But I need you two with me the most." They both nodded in response but said nothing.
The next thing Hermione knew the twins were making their way through the open door to the bedroom she now resided in. "We'll stay." They both said at once without a hint of a smile so much as playing at their lips. Again only a nod was received as an answer from everyone standing around. "We'll talk out here, mum, and you can tell us what we need to do." Molly walked out with them and shut the door behind her. For the next few minutes, all Hermione could hear were hushed whisper and the occasional sound of someone shifting their weight before they all came bounding back into the room.
"All right, everyone, we can all floo to Diagon Alley for the supplies. We'll probably be most of the day. Pip pip." She said clapping her hands and shooing all but the Weasley twins out the door. They heard the familiar whooshing sounds of everyone flooing out.
Fred sat down in the chair next to Hermione and looked at George for a plan, which he quickly provided. "You stay up here and take care of her and I'll keep an eye on things downstairs. We can take the jobs in shifts and keep changing around." George said looking at Hermione. Once again there was only a nod in response. With that George turned his back and left, closing the door behind him.
Hermione closed her eyes for a second and then felt a warm and wet piece of fabric slide over her arm. She opened her eyes to find Fred using a damp wash rag to manually clean her wounds. He seemed to the point of almost being in tears as he found the word 'MUDBLOOD' carved in her arm under all the blood. She couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn a tear did fall down his face as he helped her.
"Thank you." She whispered. He smiled warmly at her and leaned over to press his lips to her forehead. Once he pulled away, she capture his eyes with hers and repeated herself. "Really, thank you."