Shell Cottage 2

Hermione stirred. She heard rough screaming and explosions, although she wasn't sure if they were in the distance or in her memory. Where was she? Her eyes flew open and she let out a tiny gasp, propping herself up onto her elbow. She didn't recognize her surroundings but they projected a homey, secure feeling onto her. A movement below her grabbed her attention and she noticed Ron, snoring softy. His body was propped up against her bed and his red hair draped over Hermione's arm. She went to shake him awake, wanting more than ever to see his face but was immediately stopped. Her arm felt as if a million pins had been stuck into it. She gasped between clenched teeth and plummeted back onto the pillow. "Ron?" she squeaked out. He didn't move. She took a deep breath. "RON." She called quickly but desperately.

He mumbled and lifted his head slowly, then, realizing where he was he sprung to attention. "Hermione! Merlin!" He rose and sat next to her sore body. She winced at the tiny movement, clearly unsure of where her pain was originating.

"Where…" her breathing was labored.

"We're at Bill and Fleur's house." He spoke softly, clearing her hair from her face.

"But…how did we….I can't remember…anything." Her forehead crinkled in confusion.

"Shhhh. We'll talk about that later. We're safe for now, we need to get you fixed up and rested."

Her eyes widened as she spotted the nasty gashes Ron had on his arms and wrists from a few hours prior. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Hermione. We need to get a look at you. I'm sure Fleur has something to help with the pain." Ron once again leaned in to examine the cut on Hermione's neck.

"And Harry?" Hermione remembered desperately, more and more of the day's events flooding back to her.

"Fine." Ron considered telling her about Dobby but she wouldn't have even known he was there. He had a lot to catch her up on but now was not the time. Now Hermione needed to get sorted and comfortable. "Where does it hurt the most?" He asked, speaking assertively but looking quite unsure of himself. Hermione lifted the arm she tried to lay on just moments before. Ron gently took it and felt a large bump in her skin. Hermione inhaled loudly and a few tears snuck out of her eyes. Ron was all too familiar with this injury. Growing up with five older, backyard-quidditch-loving brothers, injuries were a daily occurrence. "It's broken." He announced. "Easy to fix up, though."

At her new angle Ron was able to see that the line of bruises forming on Hermione had blanketed her collar bone and continued down under her shirt. He lifted her collar to get a better look. Hermione sat unfazed by his touch, trying to focus on a single point in the room and not on the pain.

"We need to get you out of these clothes." Ron began. He thought of the chandelier falling on her small frame, now amazed that she was even alive. He could only imagine what her body went through as Bellatrix tortured her for information. He certainly never wanted to think of her screams again. "You need to be checked. I just want to be sure you aren't bleeding anywhere else or have any other breaks. You may have glass in you too."

With Ron's help, Hermione braced herself before lifting to a sitting position, her feet touching the floor. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn't have the strength.

"Dammit." Hermione cursed under her breath. Her eyes rolled up a little at the pain coursing through her.

"I know. I know. I'm so sorry Hermione." He held her shoulders steady, careful not to touch her bruises, but unsure of where else to touch her; of where else she may be injured. "I'll go get Fleur, she can help you get undressed and have a look at you, okay?" He gave her a squeeze and started for the door.

"Ron?" She spoke, barely audible.

"Yea?" He stopped.

"Can you…help me?" She choked out. "I don't want…you to go." A few more tears escaped. Ron could tell she was frustrated at her struggle to speak. She motioned toward her lungs as an explanation for her strain. Ron knew what was happening there. She had screamed her lungs raw. He doubted she remembered and he wasn't about to remind her.

He crossed the distance between them in a few short strides and knelt before her. "Are you sure?" He asked quietly. He didn't want to leave her either, in fact he would have waited just outside the room for his own sanity, but he didn't want Hermione to be uncomfortable in front of him. He looked her in the eyes and saw no hesitation, only need. She nodded her head in response and he spoke. "Alright." Ron rose and placed a small, light kiss on her forehead, one of the few places left intact, so far as he could tell. He pulled out a wand that Hermione didn't recognize and pointed it at her arm. "Ready?" She nodded. He knew this was for her own good. "Episkey."

There was a small popping noise as the bump on Hermione's arm sucked itself back in place. She groaned and grasped the area, wriggling her lower body in response. She propped her head up in the crook of Ron's shoulder, trying not to pass out. Ron spoke soothingly, and eventually her breathing slowed and her vision came back to her.

"Do you think you can stand?" She nodded hesitantly. "Alright," Ron began and allowed Hermione to push herself against his body until she was fully upright. Ok, Mione. Let's have a look at you. Diffindo." He spoke, tracing an imaginary line down the center of her shirt, watching as it tore open. It hung loosely down her front now and Ron hesitated before reaching for it.

"Ron…" Hermione managed, willing her voice to portray the gratitude she was feeling for him. Her brain was racing with a dozen reasons why he she wouldn't mind him removing her clothes, both platonic and unplatonic in nature. All she knew was at this moment she was drained of everything except the need for Ron to be healthy and be near her. She wasn't going to deny Ron that same need if that's what he was feeling as well. She spoke again. "It's alright…it's me…and you."

He looked into her eyes and his hands went to discard her now-ruined shirt. He let his eyes linger on hers for a moment before trailing them down. He felt sick at the sight of her collarbone bruise which became puffy and expanded down to her belly button. Ron's eyes traveled over Hermione's once-white bra, now dirtied with sweat and blood. His fingers danced over a few spots above her hip bone where several tiny shards of glass had gotten lodged. Hermione winced at the touch and looked down to find the source of the pain.

"Carpe Retractum" Ron said as the shards wiggled their way free of Hermione's skin and into Ron's hand. She yelled out in pain, her voice sounding as if she were drowning. "I'm sorry, Hermione." He wrapped his arms around her, planting a tender kiss on her hair. She allowed him to hold her up, focusing her thoughts on Ron's heartbeat, until the stinging sensation died out. Ron circled to Hermione's back, looking relieved to see that, other than some intense bruises, the area was unscathed. He stepped in front of her again and placed his palms on her ribcage, applying pressure to check for breaks. So far so good. "You're doing fantastic, Hermione," he offered.

Hermione reached for the button on her jeans, thankful her arm was back to normal. She pulled her pants down and stepped slowly out of them, using Ron's forearm as a stabilizer. She had never felt so much pain at once. It was as if every muscle in her body was enraged and screaming at her for relief. As Ron knelt in front of her, inspecting every inch of her legs she felt her confidence breaking down. Ron removed a few other pieces of glass. Hermione had a sudden, overwhelming sense of inadequacy. She felt dirty and exhausted and nothing like she wanted to feel if and when Ron first saw her in her underwear. Her body was depleted from all rational thought and she began to quietly cry. Her lungs screamed in protest as she pushed air in and out in halting breaks. Her heart told her that her thoughts were illogical but her brain didn't have enough sustenance to persuade her otherwise.

"What is it? Hermione?" Ron's arms were around her in a heartbeat, leading them back to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I hope I didn't….make you feel…." He stammered, clearly mortified at the thought of her upset at his actions.

Hermione could barely open her eyes as she mustered the strength to speak. "No, Ron." She wiped at her face. "I just…didn't want it to be…like this. I look a mess and you probably think…" She stumbled over her words, trying to explain. "It's deplorable that I'm even…feeling this way, right now. …for some reason…I… I just…want you to think…I'm…" she couldn't finish. Embarrassment and shame coupled with fatigue wouldn't allow her to continue.

Ron lifted her chin so they were looking at each other. "Beautiful?" Ron guessed and Hermione nodded, tears falling onto her bare legs. Ron's mouth lifted into a tiny smile. He couldn't help it. Now that he had seen for himself that she would be okay he felt okay smiling. "Hermione…look at me."

She wiped frantically at her face and looked into his blue eyes. "You are beautiful. Merlin, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Hermione. I just had to know for myself that you were okay, that everything was alright. I'm so glad you're alive." He paused to collect himself as he felt the tears well up in his eyes. His voice was quivering with emotion as he continued, "And, when this whole bloody mess is over with I want to see you again, wearing this much… so I can properly make you feel as beautiful as you are."

A tearful laugh escaped Hermione despite her painful lungs. "Ok?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded and watched Ron cross the small room to the dresser, pulling out a small dressing gown. He helped her into it and tucked her under the covers. "I'm going to fetch some tonic for the pain."

"Thanks, Ron." Within the hour, Hermione and Ron were both sound asleep. Hermione lay tucked in bed and Ron in the arm chair which he dragged over to be next to her.