I'm not JK Rowling, but if someone could introduce me to her I'd be grateful!

Love Forged by Fire

Ron stumbled as he landed, sheltering Hermione in his arms. He looked up, and was immediately thankful they had made it to Shell Cottage. He had been holding Hermione so tightly that he could feel her ribs against his chest. Her blood was soaking into his shirt, but he hardly noticed. He had never felt more scared. He felt desperately for a pulse. Panicking, he thought he may have felt one, but if it was hers and not just his imagination it was very faint and weak.

Bill was already outside with his wand drawn. He lowered it as he recognized his brother, who was cradling someone in his arms.

"Ollivander, Dean, and Luna are already inside," Bill said. "They said you were coming. Where's Harry?" As he drew closer, he gasped. "Blimey, what happened to you two? Get into the house!"

Ron tried to focus on Bill. "Harry should be right behind us." His voice breaking, he pleaded, "Please, help Hermione!"

Bill turned to the house. "Fleur!" As the woman with the long hair came to the door, they heard another pop of apparition. Bill raised his wand again, but the new figure he saw was also cradling someone in his arms. "Harry!" Bill turned to his younger brother. "Ron! Look at me! Take Hermione to the house. Go!"

Ron stumbled forward and Fleur came to meet him. She saw the blood soaking both of them now and gasped. She reached out to help. "Quickly, inside! Lay 'er down on ze couch." As they entered the house, she summoned a bag of potions from the kitchen. "What 'appened?"

Luna and Dean were already in the small sitting room. Luna was very matter-of-fact. "I didn't think the cruciatus actually caused bleeding. Did Bellatrix attack her with arbenites as well?"

Ron looked up with glazed eyes, trying to figure out what Luna was talking about. He finally shook his head as he laid Hermione on the couch. "No." He turned frantically to Fleur. "Bellatrix was holding a knife to her and then there was a noise and then the chandelier fell and she needs help now!" He forced himself to take a deep breath and pleaded, "Tell me she's going to be OK!"

Fleur took out several potions from her bag. She looked sharply from Luna to Ron. Her expression softened as she looked down. She unstoppered the essence of dittany and started to pour it over the cuts she could see. "It's OK," she whispered softly to Hermione. "You'll be OK." She motioned to the others to leave the room but Ron remained frozen in place.

Fleur gently put a hand on Ron's arm. "Ron, you are in ze way."

"I'm not leaving."

Fleur glanced up. She saw the resolve on his face and knew she didn't have the time to argue. "Fine. First, I need to examine 'er injuries." Ron gulped and bit his lips.

Fleur began to scourgify the blood away from the wounds. Her face hardened. She started to pour the dittany on the cuts. Some of the marks started to heal, but others – too many - did not. "Ron, Luna mentioned ze cruciatus curse. 'Ow many times?"

Stifling tears, Ron moaned, "I don't know, I don't know – Bellatrix was using it over and over. I don't know!"

Fleur gently raised Hermione's left arm and took a closer look at it. Ron's eyes widened and he let out a gasp when he saw what had been carved into her skin. "That …" Fleur looked at him and Ron stopped talking, setting his face into determined lines. When Fleur gently turned Hermione over to examine her back, he bit his lip but remained silent. Finally Fleur had finished bandaging the wounds she could not heal.

"Ron, I've stopped as much as the bleeding as I can. But I need to warn you – wounds caused by dark magic will never fully disappear. Ze cruciatus scars will always be with her. Do you know what caused ze cuts on her neck and arms?"

"A dagger – a silver dagger."

Fleur nodded slowly, understanding now why the wounds hadn't healed with the dittany. "From ze way ze bleeding is continuing slightly even after using ze dittany, zat dagger was cursed. We've done as much as we can 'ere. I've given 'er a potion for pain. Come, bring 'er upstairs where she'll 'ave more privacy."

With Fleur following, Ron carried Hermione upstairs and put her on the same bed he'd slept in when he'd hidden out at Shell Cottage after he had abandoned them in November. Pushing Ron out of the way, Fleur summoned one of her nightgowns and tossed the tattered remains of Hermione's old clothes on the floor. After pulling up the covers over the wounded girl, she turned to Ron. "Keep 'er comfortable. Zat's all we can do for now." She gave his arm an understanding squeeze and left the room. Walking back to the bed, Ron stumbled over the bloody clothes on the floor and he angrily kicked them away. He tenderly reached out to grasp Hermione's hand, silently pleading for her to regain consciousness.

Downstairs, Fleur looked up as Bill came into the house. He looked grim. "Harry's OK, but he brought a dead house-elf with him. He asked to bury him non-magically, so I gave him a shovel and brought him to the garden. How's Hermione doing? What happened to her?"

Fleur looked at him. "She'll live. She'll 'ave some scars, but she will live. Please, do not ask 'er anything about zem. I don't zink she will want to talk about it." She finished putting away her potions and went back upstairs to check on Hermione. She looked over to Ron and saw the concern on his face. "She'll be OK," she reassured him

"Are Harry and Dobby all right?"

"'Arry is fine. Is ze house elf Dobby?" Ron nodded. Fleur shook her head. "'e did not make it." At Ron's shocked expression, she gave him a brief hug. She looked back down at Hermione. "By the way, what are arbenites?"

"Huh?" Ron looked at Fleur

"Luna mentioned zem."

"Oh. I have no idea. You can ask Luna, but knowing her I don't think it's important."

Fleur nodded. "Let me know when she regains consciousness," she whispered, and left the two alone.

Ron watched Hermione for what seemed like hours but which he knew was far less than that. Suddenly, Hermione began to moan and thrash around. Ron grabbed her shoulders. "It's OK, Hermione, it's OK. We're safe, we're at Shell Cottage. Hermione, I'm here, I'm here."

Hermione's eyes fluttered opened. "Ron?" She leaned back and relaxed. "Is everyone safe?"

Ron shook his head. "Dobby's dead," he said with a catch in his voice. "Just a second – Fleur wanted to know as soon as you were awake. Fleur!" he called downstairs. Fleur came up and gently shooed Ron out. "Go have something to eat. I need to examine "Ermione." Instead, Ron stood outside the room, listening, not wanting to be too far away.

Fleur carefully looked at Hermione's injuries. Trying to project confidence, she smiled. "You're 'ealing nicely, 'Ermione. Do you want some more potion for ze pain?"

"Why am I still hurting, Fleur? Is something wrong? She looked at her arm and then fingered her neck. "Why aren't these healing?" Hermione asked, with a slight note of panic in her voice. Raising her hand to her cheek, she added more quietly, "And what about my face?"

"Your face is undamaged." Fleur took a deep breath and looked away. "But as for your arm and neck, sadly, dark magic leaves scars zat cannot be 'ealed." She hesitated. "You should also know," she paused, "zat your back is scarred, traces of ze cruciatus."

Hermione turned away and briefly shut her eyes. After a short pause, she murmured, "There was so much pain. I didn't think it would ever stop, let alone believe we would ever make it out of there alive."

Fleur squeezed her hand. "But you are 'ere now. You are safe and among your friends."

After a moment, Hermione looked at her. "Thank you for all you have done for us."

Fleur smiled. "You have done so much for the wizarding world I am happy to do what little I can."

Hermione looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"You have kept 'Arry alive, no? Zat by itself is a victory zese days." She tucked in Hermione's blankets. "Rest now." As she left she shut the door gently behind her. "Ron!" she said, "I told you to get something to eat!"

Ron looked at her with such a bleak but hopeful expression that Fleur couldn't scold him anymore.

"She'll be all right, won't she?"

In her bed, Hermione smiled to hear the concern in Ron's voice.

"Yes. She's doing much better already."

"Do you think – after the war – will the healers at St. Mungo's be able to do anything about the scars?"

Hermione stopped smiling.

With sympathy in her voice, Fleur shook her head. "I don't think zey will be able to do anything either." When Ron walked in, Hermione pretended to be asleep. After a few minutes, Bill knocked at the door. "Ron, Harry is digging a hole to bury Dobby in at the end of the garden. Dean's heading out there now to help him. I think he might need you, too. He seems pretty torn up. We'll keep an eye on Hermione."

Ron looked at Hermione, uncertain. Reluctantly he sighed and turned away. "Call me right away if anything happens."

Fleur looked in on Hermione a half hour later. Hermione looked up. "Zey are about to bury the house elf, my dear. We'll be outside if you need us."

"I'm coming too."

"You're still very weak."

"Fleur, he saved our lives. I need to be there."

"Can I convince you otherwise?" Hermione shook her head, and Fleur sighed. "I was afraid you would insist. Let me get you something to keep you warm." She summoned one of her dressing gowns and helped Hermione downstairs and out to the garden.

When they joined the others, Ron put an arm around Hermione. Hermione sorrowfully let herself be held, and imagined for a moment what could have been if it had not been for Bellatrix.

After the funeral, Ron carefully helped Hermione back upstairs. "Thanks, Ron." As she lay down, she could feel the bandages on her back. Not wanting to face Ron, she said "I think I need to rest now." She closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he held her hand but said nothing.

Fleur came upstairs a few minutes later. "How is she doing?" she asked Ron. "I think she fell asleep again," he answered.

Fleur nodded. "Zat is good. She needs to let 'er body 'eal. Now, go get something to eat while I check 'er wounds." Ron started downstairs automatically, but then shook his head and returned back to the now familiar place outside the door. He couldn't leave her again until he knew she'd be OK.

As Fleur lifted up her arm to check the bandages, Hermione turned her head towards the wall. "Ah, you are awake. Why did you not want to talk to Ron?" Hermione was silent but looked at her arm. Fleur thought a moment and then gently put her hand on Hermione's face. "I know what is bothering you, 'Ermione. Zese scars are the mark of bravery. You should be proud of zem. Ze person who loves you will not care. When I see my husband, I am reminded of his valor. When I see George, I see someone who willingly stood up to the evil forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Hermione turned to face her with tears in her eyes. "But it's different! I'm… I'm…"

Fleur took her hands. "You zink it is different because you are a woman, no?"

Hermione reluctantly nodded.

Fleur squeezed her fingers. "I know you, 'Ermione. You think as a modern woman zat it shouldn't matter, but the little girl inside of you zinks that it will."

Hermione nodded again. "I heard Ron asking if St. Mungo's could do anything after the war." Outside the door, Ron started.

"Ron will not care about your back or your arm or your neck," Fleur responded. On the other side of the door, Ron looked down. Did Hermione really think so little of him that she thought he would stop loving her because of the scars? Or, a worse thought came to him, did she not believe he could love her at all? He slowly headed downstairs. He didn't hear Fleur's soft comments. "Hermione, please, just talk to Ron."

Hermione slowly nodded. "Can you help me back downstairs?"

"Are you sure you're up to it?
"Yes, I need to get out of this room for a bit." Fleur nodded and helped her up.

They joined the others in the living room. Bill was explaining that he had told his family to go into hiding now that the Death Eaters knew that Ron was with Harry.

Before Ron and Hermione could say anything to each other, Harry, his hands covered with mud and Dobby's blood, came to the doorway of the living room. He caught up on the news and then asked – no, demanded - to talk to Griphook and Ollivander after he had washed up. Their own troubles temporarily forgotten, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other and wondered what their friend was up to and what their role was to be. Harry, his hands now clean, returned from the kitchen and reiterated his demand to see the goblin and wandmaker. Harry followed Bill up the steps. Ron and Hermione started to follow, but stopped, unsure if they were welcomed. They were both relieved when Harry looked at them and called, "I need you two as well!"

Later that day, with Hermione back in bed, Ron's thoughts of what he had overheard earlier between Fleur and Hermione returned. He stood in the living room looking out the window.

Harry walked in and saw Ron. From Ron's expression, he knew something was seriously wrong. "Hey, Ron. You doing OK?" Ron ignored him and walked to the back door. He went outside and stood against the railing. Harry followed him and put his arm on Ron's shoulder. "What's wrong, mate?" When Ron didn't answer, Harry felt a pit develop in his stomach. He turned away from Ron and faced the sea. "I understand," he said sadly. "You've helped me so much already. Gringotts could well be a suicide mission and your family needs you now."

Ron was shaken out of his thoughts by Harry's words. "Wait - what? What are you talking about, Harry?"

"I understand that you want to go to your family."

"What? And leave you again? You're daft!"

Harry was confused. "But then why are you looking like the world has fallen apart? That's how you looked just before …" he stopped, not wanting to bring up the scene in the tent.

Ron looked aghast. "Harry! I'm not going to abandon you! You need me to finish this mission!" A horrid thought struck him. "Don't you?" he added, hesitantly.

Harry gave a ghost of a smile. "I do, especially now. But then what are you thinking?"

Ron turned away and faced out to the ocean again. "It's Hermione. She's going to have some pretty bad scars for life – they were done by dark magic."

Harry looked at him sharply. "I didn't think that would stop you from caring for her."

"No! Never! It's just, Fleur tried to tell her that they were marks of bravery, but she has a silly notion that I'd reject her because of them. How can she think that I would ever leave her because Bellatrix gave her some scars? Does she really think that I'm that shallow?"

Harry sighed. "You know, if you two ever start understanding each other, I'll lay a bet on the Cannons. Look, do you want me to talk to her?"

"Would you, Harry?" Ron looked at him hopefully.

"No problem, mate." Harry made his way upstairs.

"Hey, Hermione, how are you feeling?" he asked as he entered her room.

"I've felt better, to be honest, but I'm mending. I should be able to help you and Ron figure out our next step tomorrow."

Harry was so startled he forgot about Ron's message. "Hermione! You've done your share. Because of me, you've been badly hurt. You've saved our mission, our lives countless times. I don't expect you to do anymore!"

Hermione looked at him sharply and lifted herself onto her elbows, wincing a bit. "Harry Potter! Do you really think I'm going to leave you now? How long do you think you'll last without me?"

"But Hermione …"

"Harry, I NEED to go on. I need to continue fighting You-Know-Who. If you stop me from going with you, I'll just join the Order. If they don't want me, I'll find another resistance group to join." She stared at him.

Harry nodded slowly. "I do need you and Ron both, Hermione. You're right. I just don't like it. You've both done so much for me already."

Hermione lay back down. "Harry, we do what we have to do."

At that, Harry remembered Ron's words. "Hey Hermione, I talked to Ron a few minutes ago. He said some of your scars will never heal."

Hearing Ron's name, she turned her head away from Harry and with tears in her eyes mumbled softly. "It doesn't matter. I don't need his pity. After this is all over he can go back to that beautiful, unblemished Lavender. See if I care. I don't need anyone."

Harry sighed. "And you think Ron is thick. Hermione, don't you know by now that Ron loves you? He doesn't care about how you look. He wouldn't care if your ear were cursed off like George's or if your face were scarred by Greyback. Heck, he wouldn't care if both happened to you. He loves you, Hermione. He needs you."

"He needs me?" Hermione snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Yes, he needs you," said Harry simply. "Please, talk to him."

"Fine, Harry."

Harry walked out, passing Ron in the hallway. "Your turn, mate."

Ron walked in and over to her bed. "I'm sorry Hermione. No, please let me speak," he went on when Hermione started to interrupt. "When I asked about a cure for your scars, I was just trying to see what could be done because I knew that you'd hate them because of what they'd remind you of. When I see them, they remind me of something else. They remind me not to take you for granted. They remind me that you've saved our lives. They remind me," he finished, gazing at her with admiration, "that I love you."

Hermione looked at him, and with watery eyes smiled and reached out for his hand.

AN: Again, thanks to my beta, Owl Winter. I plan to post a short chapter 2 for this story next week. Please review!