Chapter 3: A Virgin's Blood

Art appeared in his mother's study moments later. He was surprised that it looked so normal. For some reason, it seemed incongruous that his mother lay critically injured in hospital, but her study was the same cluttered collection of books and bottles and instruments that it had always been. He had to move two stacks of books and a large telescope to get into the potions cabinet. It only took him a minute to find the vial he was looking for. It was tucked in the back behind a bottle of Bubotuber pus. He picked up the little vial and looked at the dark red liquid within. The label on the front was printed in his mother's tidy script. He tucked the vial into his pocket and Apparated back to the hospital.

Ron turned to Michelle. "Can I see her?"

Michelle shook her head. "Ron, she's in stasis."

"I don't care. I just want to see her," Ron insisted.

"I don't think you understand. She's frozen in time exactly as she was when she came in. Her wounds are gaping, she's covered in blood. Why don't you—"

"I've seen her wounded and covered in blood. Who do you think brought her here the first time?"

Michelle tightened her lips, but she was saved from having to speak by Art's sudden reappearance.

He held out the vial to her. "Here it is."

Michelle took it and turned to Ron. "I have to get started on this right away. It takes twenty-four hours to brew." She turned to leave, but Ron grabbed her arm.

"Please Michelle. I know I've got no right asking you for favors, but please."

Michelle looked down at his hand on her arm and he dropped it. She sighed. "Let me have the house elves get her cleaned up and in a proper room and then you can see her. That's the best I can do."

Ron started to say something but stopped. He nodded.

Art stood looking at his father. 24 hours? No one else seemed surprised. "Dad?" Art said.

Ron turned to him and put his arm around Art's shoulder. "Brilliant, you remembering that vial of blood." Ron looked at Harry. "Did you know she'd done that?"

Harry shook his head. They both looked at Ginny, who also shook her head.

"It makes sense though," Harry said. "When it came to destroying the Horcruxes, we didn't know what all we'd need."

"Brilliant," Ron muttered, as he raked his fingers through his beard. Art watched as Ron went to sit down in the waiting area. It seemed like in the last few hours his father had aged 10 years.

A young healer came over with a long parchment and a quill and began asking all sorts of questions about Hermione's previous injuries.

Art listened intently as Ron answered questions about his mother. He knew most of the answers from reading about her injuries in Who's Who Among Witches and Wizards, but hearing his father talk about it was a completely different experience. The healer focused mostly on the scars and Art came to understand that when his mother attempted to control the explosion the magic had burst through her scars, leaving fresh wounds.

Ron explained about the scar on her chest that Dolohov's curse had left. He stumbled a bit when explaining the one on her side and Harry helped fill in the gaps. The healer asked for specific information: what kind of curse was she hit with, how long was it before she received medical attention? Neither time had Hermione been given immediate medical attention, which was part of the reason the scars were as bad as they were.

"What about the one on her left shoulder?" The healer asked.

Ron didn't say anything.

"Mr. Weasley?" The healer prompted.

Art looked at his father.

Ron cleared his throat. "I don't know. We weren't together when she got that, and she's never talked about it."

The healer pursed her lips. "Is there anyone who might know?"

Ron looked at Harry and Ginny. "She ever say anything to either of you?"

They both shook their heads.

The healer sighed. "This is really important. Knowing the curse that caused the initial scarring is critical in the second phase of potion development. We don't want to leave out a critical ingredient."

Ron scrubbed a hand down his face and then looked at Harry. "Do you mind, mate?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'll go get him."

Art looked at his Aunt Ginny. "Who –"

She put a hand on his knee to still him and leaned over. "Viktor," she whispered.

Art watched in stunned silence as his Uncle disappeared with a pop.

Everyone sat in awkward silence. Ron had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Art heard him mutter, "Fuck."

Several minutes later, Harry reappeared and the dark Bulgarian appeared next to him a few moments later.

Ron stood up and walked toward Viktor and Harry.

"Viktor," Ron extended his hand.

Viktor shook it, "Ron. How is Hermione? Have you seen her?"

"Not yet, and I'm about to go mad with the waiting."

Viktor nodded.

"Can you tell the healer about the scar on Hermione's shoulder?"

Viktor scratched at the late day stubble on his cheek. He looked at Art, then apologetically at Ron. "May we speak privately?" he asked the healer

The healer nodded. "Of course."

"Bloody hell," Ron said through clenched teeth, but he walked away.

Viktor frowned, but lead the healer away from the group.

Art watched in stunned silence as Viktor told the healer what had happened. He tried to figure out based on Viktor's hand gestures what he was saying, but it was useless. Art longed for a pair of his Uncles' extendable ears. A few minutes later, the healer left and Viktor came over to the waiting area and slouched into one of the chairs. Art was surprised to see he intended to stay.

Twenty minutes later a healer came and got Ron to finally see Hermione. Art watched his father walk away and wondered whether he should have offered to go with him.