CHAPTER TWO

Ron didn't catch himself in time, and went sprawling across the ground. He had just apparated from the forest where he had been hiding with Harry and Hermione, and ended up in a northern town he had visited once with his family. He slowly pulled himself to a sitting position and felt guilt growing in the pit of his stomache. Had he really just left his best friends like that? He groaned and put his forehead into his hands, knowing that he had really messed up this time. Why did he let his anger always get the best of him?

Ron sat on the ground for a few moments, trying to figure out what he should do. He had to get back to Harry and Hermione, this was certain, and apologize until he was blue in the face. He suddenly remembered that he had heard Hermione calling after him but had apparated before he gave her a chance to catch up. Now he felt even worse; all she was ever trying to do was help him, and he never made it easy for her.

He decided to try apparating back to them by visualizing their campsite, not entirely sure where in England they had landed last time, and spun on the spot. Nothing. He tried it again, and again went nowhere. Ron started to panic now, realizing that the wards Hermione put up were probably preventing him from finding them. He picked up his rucksack and headed down a nearby road into the town, determined to find a way back to his friends.

Half an hour later Ron was sitting alone in the corner of a wizard's pub, his right hand flicking his deluminator open and closed under the table out of comfort, watching the pub door for dangerous enemies. He would start searching for his friends in the morning, nothing would be able to keep him away.

Harry was still sitting on the floor 15 minutes later, waiting for Hermione to (hopefully) return with Ron. He was starting to get slightly worried, not having heard any noises from the dark forest aside from the wind and night animals in a while.

He slowly got up onto his feet and, clutching his wand, walked to stand outside the tent in the hopes to hear something from his friends. He shivered in the cold, thinking how the night air was beginning to smell like winter, and popped back inside the tent quickly to grab his jacket and one of Hermione's blue flames in a glass bottle. He continued his watch on the outside of the tent, pacing slightly to turn his head in different directions. Nothing.

After standing outside for another 15 minutes, Harry decided that he could no longer keep waiting around, and started walking in the direction he had heard Hermione go, keeping the blue flame in front of him to light the path. Harry could see her occasional small footstep in the quickly freezing ground and started walking faster, giving the occasional call of his friends' names. He didn't hear anything back.

Hermione groaned slightly as she started to feel pain in her dream. She had been chasing after something in her dream, but started to slow down as her dream-self began to feel an ache in her ribs and head. Suddenly she realized that she was half-asleep and in a dream, and opened her eyes to the dark forest floor, where she lay on her side. She tried moving her arms to clutch around her aching sides and was confused when her arms refused to respond more than flopping a bit closer. Realizing she could see her breath in the air, and that she was soaking wet, she began to try to wiggle her cold limbs into wakefulness, knowing she needed to get back to the camp. Her jerky movements suddenly caused a long explosive cough in her chest, which caused her eyes to water as the cough sent knives through her chest and back. After she was able to slightly catch her breath she decided to try a different tactic.

"Harry! Ron!" She tried to yell with her weak and groggy voice, having to stop and cough with the exertion of her actions. They would have to realize she is missing eventually, and maybe they would be able to hear her. "HARRY!

Harry stopped in mid-stride, thinking he heard a voice on the wind. He had been walking for quite a while now, still following the occasional footprint. He closed his eyes and listened hard for a minute, trying to quell his breathing in hopes of hearing his friends.

"Harry…" he heard in the distance. Definitely Hermione's voice, he thought excitedly.

"HERMIONE!" He bellowed back, hoping she would be able to hear him and call again. Why hadn't she signalled him with her wand? he wondered, and started jogging quickly towards her occasional quiet calls. Something didn't seem right.

Harry kept jogging on, the knowledge that Hermione had stopped calling him putting fear in his heart. The blue flame he held out in front of him suddenly stopped revealing footprints and he stopped in confusion, turning in a circle to look at the dark forest around him. "Hermione?" he called, knowing she couldn't be far. He didn't hear an answer, so crouched down low to shine the flame on the ground. He didn't see anything at first, but as he turned noticed a mark on the ground, near an exposed tree root. He looked further on and saw the indent of a body in the mud about five feet from him, near the edge of a hill that he had failed to notice until he looked closer with his flame. He crouched at the top of the hill, confused, and looked around him. He saw nothing but dark air and the outlines of trees and brush. Harry decided to get a better look around, as this was the last place he saw any sign of his friend's footsteps, and lit his wand with a super-illuminating spell that Hermione had recently taught him.

"Magnus Lumos!"

Harry squinted in the blinding light his wand had created. This was the reason he had decided to stick with the blue flame, the light of his wand could have warned every death eater in the 100-mile radius where they were hiding! He was desperate now though, his friends could be in trouble, enemies be damned. When the spots in his eyes started to fade away, Harry could see that there were definitely signs of a body sliding down the hill, and started to carefully inch his way down the steep incline, bracing his feet in front of him as he slowly slid down. Something suddenly jabbed him in the back of the leg and he stopped to pull away what he thought was a stick, until he looked closer. It was Hermione's wand, but…broken. Harry quickly shoved her wand in his pocket and picked up his pace, calling her name as he went. Suddenly he heard his name spoken, seemingly not too much further below him.

"I'm coming, it's me Harry, just hold on!"

Harry finally reached the bottom of the hill and stayed crouched as he shone his light around him. He saw nothing until he turned to his right, then suddenly saw the flash of pink of Hermione's sweater. He rushed over to her, sliding slightly on the wet ground, hands shaking as he knelt down beside her and reached out to roll her onto her back.

He gasped as he shone the light of his wand on his best friend. Hermione was slowly blinking into the bright light, with smears of blood and dirt covering her cheek, forehead, and neck. Her clothes were soaking wet and muddy, and her body was shivering uncontrollably under his hands. The skin on her face, what he could see of it, was white and mottled purple. Harry dropped his wand beside him and placed his hands carefully on either side of her face and drew closer to her, shocked at the coolness of her skin.

At the warm contact of his hands, Hermione focused her eyes on Harry, attempting a small smile.

"Harry…" she desperately choked through chattering teeth, "I…I can't move…too cold…my ribs…" she trailed off, as her eyes started closing. Harry knew he had to start warming her up before he could even move her. He desperately looked around him for a leaf or anything, and after finding one quickly transfigured it into a warm blanket. He placed it over his friend, rubbing her arms and legs through the material, worrying about getting his friend back to their camp. He suddenly remembered she had muttered something about her ribs and gently moved the blanket aside so he could pull her jumper up. Harry was shocked not only by her sunken stomache and prominent ribs, but her whole left side was covered in a dark bruise. Harry reached beside him to grab his lit wand, holding it to the centre of the bruise.

"Episkey!" Harry was satisfied to hear the crack of bones moving into place, but winced as Hermione groaned despite being unconscious. He moved the blanket back over her and pulled her to limply sit leaning against him to protect her from the cold ground, placing her head so it rested on his chest. He gave himself a moment to think about what he should de next; he needed to get his friend back to their camp so she could warm up and he could check her over. He could see she had a head wound, but it didn't appear to be bleeding more than a trickle now. He didn't even know what to do about that kind of wound, either the muggle or magic way. They always relied on Hermione to know these things…Harry really began to panic and worry, knowing he and Ron were too dependent on Hermione being around to help them, and now he didn't know what to do for her…

And on another note, where was Ron? Why wasn't he with Hermione?