"No, you can have me, keep me!"
Hermione's heart froze. It wasn't just her heart, but everything. Her muscles, her mouth... she couldn't speak or even breathe. Was Ron being serious? One look at his face and she knew he was.
Silently, Hermione pleaded with Bellatrix. Take me. Please, take me. Don't hurt him.
Bellatrix meanwhile, paced between Hermione and Ron.
"Right then...", she whispered, glee spreading across her features, like a child choosing between two toys.
"Send him to the cellar. Once that stinging jinx wears off, we'll be able to call the dark Lord with confidence. I'll keep the mudblood", said Bellatrix. Hermione's stomach flipped. She wasn't exactly excited about being left at Bellatrix Lestrange's mercy, but at least-
"And the blood traitor", she finished.
Hermione felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. What was that vile hag planning...
"NO! Goddamnit, you coward!", Came Harry's rage-filled roars as Lucius and Narcissa dragged him away.
"So much choice... a blood traitor and a mudblood", said Bellatrix, the horrible, twisted smile making her deranged appearance ten times worse. "Decisions, decisions", she murmured, twirling her wand in her hands.
Without warning and with the speed of a striking snake, Bellatrix conjured chains, which attached themselves to Ron's wrists, pinning him to the nearest wall. Less than a split second later, Bellatrix had cast a non-verbal incarcerous spell on Hermione, pinning her arms painfully tight against her sides and binding her legs together.
In that moment, Hermione knew that even if they had their wands, standing against Bellatrix Lestrange was futile. How were they supposed to beat a wizard that the shockingly powerful and merciless witch in front of them feared?
More importantly, how were the going to get out of this?
All of the questions swirling through Hermione's mind were shut down in an instant when she realised what was about to happen. Bellatrix had pulled out a knife. She was walking towards Ron.
"NO! Please, I'll do anything!", Hermione cried, squirming and struggling helplessly against her bindings.
Ron looked into Hermione's eyes, trying to convey something.
It's alright, they seemed to say.
No... it's not alright! This couldn't be happening. It was a nightmare. Any moment now, she was going to wake up, inside the tent, waiting for Harry to come back from his watch. This wasn't real.
Bellatrix was pointing both her knife and her wand at Ron, apparently choosing which to use on him first.
"That sword. How did you get it?", she asked, looking at Hermione, but with both weapons pointed at Ron. The mirth was now all but gone. Her voice made Hermione sick to her stomach. There was no way Hermione could answer her. Which meant that Bellatrix would definitely use either of her weapons. Or both of them...
"Don't say shit!", Ron cried out, looking desperately at Hermione.
Bellatrix responded by raising her knife and slowly placing it against Ron's forehead.
"Try not to move, blood traitor. You'll want both eyes when you see what Greyback has in store for your mudblood pet", she said.
"Don't you fucking dare!", Ron roared, doing his utmost to yank his arms free from the chains.
Without another word, Bellatrix dug the knife into Ron's forehead and dragged it down his face, cutting him from forehead to cheek, though staying clear of his eye. for now. Ron's grunts of pain were shockingly quiet, but perhaps it was because Hermione couldn't hear them over the sound of her own sobs.
"It's a copy! We never went to your vault!", Hermione choked out through her sobs.
"LIAR!", Bellatrix screamed.
"She's telling you the tru-", Ron started, but he never finished the sentence.
"CRUCIO!", roared Bellatrix.
Ron's screams of pain filled the room and this time, it was Hermione's own sobs she couldn't hear. Ron's whole body twitched, writhed and rattled against his chains. his screams reverberated in Hermione's mind and she knew that the image of the man she loved, in this much pain, would stay with her forever. And he chose it... He preferred to take that over leaving Hermione with Bellatrix. The knowledge only made Hermione's sobs worse.
"P-p-please... I'll do anything, stop, please!", she cried, but Bellatrix didn't stop. Ron's screams didn't stop.
Thirty, agonising seconds passed, before Bellatrix lifted the curse.
"I know exactly how long to go, mudblood, before the ginger... snaps. What else did you take from MY VAULT!". Bellatrix started her sentence with a dangerous whisper, but the last two words were yelled as if they were the crack of a whip.
"We d-d-didn't! Didn't take anything, it's a copy, I swear! Please, leave him, I'm begging you! Take me instead! I'm the mudblood!", Hermione sobbed out.
They were trapped. Bellatrix would torture Ron until he lost his mind. She would be left at Greyback's mercy, but what did it matter? Without Ron, why would she care what Greyback wanted from her?
Horrific images filled Hermione's mind. She could see how this would end.
She saw herself, a hollow, look in her face, lying on the floor, being taken against what little will she had left by an animalistic, smiling Fenrir Greyback in front of a version of Ron who was so far gone that couldn't even understand what he was seeing. Harry, dead. Ron, tortured into insanity like Neville's parents, and her, left behind, having to live with her failure, her lot in life reduced to being used as an animal's plaything, just as Bellatrix promised.
Her, knowing that she wasn't good enough to save Harry, the wizarding world's last hope or Ron, the man she loved.
How? How could she save Ron? Nothing else mattered. Not even Harry in that moment. She had to think of something. She had to.
"Tell me it's a copy one more time", Bellatrix whispered dangerously. While Ron wheezed and coughed, trying to get himself back under control, Hermione had no choices left.
"But it is! It's a copy!", she cried. Bellatrix's eyes seemed to crackle with rage and she turned back to Ron.
"NO! RON!", Hermione cried again.
Bellatrix slashed across Ron's chest and for a moment, Hermione was convinced she'd killed him, feeling as if the world itself was collapsing in on itself, but when only a trickle of blood came from Ron's chest, she felt some relief. Until Bellatrix ripped Ron's shirt off.
"Time to teach you your place", she spat out. Without another word, she dug her knife into the skin of Ron's chest and once again, he was screaming in pain.
"Ple-please, leave him! It's a copy, It's a copy!", Hermione repeated hysterically, not knowing anything else she could do or say.
A minute later, Bellatrix took a step back, looking for all the world like a painter admiring a piece she'd worked on for days.
Hermione saw the fruits of Bellatrix's labour. Brutally carved into Ron's chest were the words BLOOD TRAITOR. The wounds were deep, but not deep enough to kill Ron through blood loss. Hermione knew that Bellatrix wanted the pain to last as long as possible. While Ron moaned in pain, now starting to look delirious, Hermione continued sobbing.
"R-Ron, I-I'm sorry! I'm so-so sorry!", Hermione choked out.
Bellatrix began moving towards Hermione and immediately, her sobs began to subside. Hermione genuinely felt like smiling. Finally...
But when Bellatrix saw the look on Hermione's face, she stopped. Then she smiled.
"Thank you, little mudblood. Now I know how to get to you", she said.
The fire that burned in Hermione's heart was being extinguished. All hope she had was gone and the image of her, Harry and Ron's fate was now clearer than ever in her mind's eye.
"CRUCIO!", Bellatrix roared again and for the second time that day, the limits of Ron's strength and pain tolerance were stretched to the absolute limit. Hermione, already knowing it was futile kept calling his name, begging and screaming for Bellatrix to stop and offering herself in his place. Bellatrix was no longer listening. She was enjoying herself.
Until...
"We can check, Bella!", came the most unlikely voice. Narcissa Malfoy?
Bellatrix lifted the curse, looking away from the wheezing, spluttering Ron as he coughed up blood and bile. His chest and face weren't the only parts of his body that were bleeding now. Blood was leaking from his eyes, nose, ears and mouth. Hermione's brain had jammed. She couldn't think any more. All she had the capacity for now was to weep and sob.
"What do you mean, we can check?", asked Bellatrix.
"The goblin! He can check whether the sword is real!", said Narcissa.
Hermione should've known. Narcissa wasn't going to come close to saving or helping Ron. But when she walked past Hermione... she looked at her with something unreadable in her expression.
Did she dare hope?
When the goblin did arrive, Hermione tried to make eye contact with him, pleading for him to back up her story of the sword being a copy and to her shock and utter relief... he did.
"Definitely a copy. No goblin would forge something of such low quality", said Griphook firmly.
"Consider yourself lucky, goblin", said Bellatrix, spitting in Griphook's face.
"The same can't be said for these two", she added, stepping back to Ron, now ready to finish what she started, Hermione realised.
But before anything could be done to cause Ron yet more pain, Hermione heard something... Footsteps? A voice?
"Finite!", Harry yelled, and Hermione felt the ropes binding her slacken and fall away. Harry threw a wand at her and Hermione deftly caught it.
All of her fear, despair and regret swirled into a tempest of apoplectic rage, the likes of which she had never felt before. Bellatrix Lestrange would die for what she did. She would die slowly. Painfully. She would look into Hermione's eyes, knowing and feeling the consequences of hurting someone she loved.
The Malfoys' living room descended into chaos. Offensive spells were hurled everywhere, people ducked, dived, hurled themselves out of the way of jinxes, curses and even flying objects.
It all came grinding to a halt when Bellatrix yelled for everyone to stop.
Harry and Hermione froze. She was kneeling over Ron's still breathing, but otherwise immobile body. Her knife was held against his neck. Both Harry and Hermione saw a small trickle of blood now coming from his neck.
"Drop the wands. And now it's revealed. Potter is here after all. Lucius. Call him", Bellatrix ordered, as Harry and Hermione listlessly dropped their wands.
Lucius Malfoy raised his sleeve, hovered a hand above his dark mark, but before he could call his master, Hermione heard... squeaking?
Without warning, the Malfoys' priceless chandelier crashed down onto the ground, shattering into thousands of pieces and nearly crushing Bellatrix in the process, narrowly missing Ron too. It was Dobby! In the commotion, Harry and Hermione had regathered their wands and leapt towards Ron. Hermione had no idea where they needed to go, but Harry clearly did. The three friends held onto each other and to Dobby and Hermione felt the familiar sensation of apparition taking her.
"Ron told me about this place. He stayed here in the winter, it's Bill and Fleur's place. Didn't expect to actually land here, but it matches the way he described it", Harry explained, helping Hermione drag Ron onto their shoulders.
"Harry Potter", came Dobby's squeaky voice. It was... different, somehow. Weaker? Harry looked around and his heart stopped. Dobby stood there, his eyes unfocussed. Bellatrix's knife was embedded in his chest.
"Harry Potter is a good friend. Dobby hopes he was a good friend to Harry Potter", came the elf's weakened voice. Harry could hear Hermione and somehow, Ron too, gasping in shock.
"You... you were... are a good friend Dobby. Great, even. Hermione! Help me!", Harry cried out desperately, catching and cradling Dobby as he fell. But nothing could help Dobby now.
"Such a beautiful place. Dobby is glad he is... here... with... friends"
The elf's body lay limp and Harry was frozen.
"Harry... Harry I'm so sorry!", Hermione cried.
"Shouldn't-have-happened" Ron coughed out, his mouth still bleeding.
The sight of Ron's coughing snapped Harry out of his stunned reverie and, still cradling Dobby's body in his right arm, Harry got his left shoulder underneath Ron's arm and helped Hermione drag Ron towards the cottage.
"Ron? Harry, Hermione, what the-" came Bill's voice.
"Get him inside. FLEUR!" Bill yelled in a panic that Harry had never seen the oldest Weasley sibling in before.
Cedric was dead. Sirius was dead. Dumbledore was dead. Dobby was dead. Ron may not make it to the next morning.
As Harry heard Hermione begin to break down into heart-wrenching sobs once again, the same question repeated itself in Harry's mind. How much more was he supposed to lose before they could finally win? Or worse, would they lose everyone they loved, one by one until there was no one left to lose?
Hermione had no idea how Ron had stood through Dobby's funeral. Yes, he swayed drunkenly where he stood, but he did it. Given that he proceeded to essentially pass out and fall into the deepest sleep she'd ever seen, she wasn't convinced it was a good idea for him to attend it, but then again, it was Ron. He wouldn't take the easy way out.
She tried not to think about what put him in such a state, but it wasn't possible. The brutally carved words in Ron's chest would never heal, having been made by a goblin-made knife. And the screams of pain from the cruciatus curse... Hermione would never forget them.
Hermione wanted to hold his hand, but couldn't bring herself to do it. It may have looked like a deep sleep, but she didn't want to risk interrupting it. If there was one thing he needed, it was rest. She found herself in utter disbelief that Ron was willing to do that for her. She saw the look in Bellatrix's face. She wanted to torture Hermione. It was her gut instinct, knowing that Hermione was muggle-born. But Bellatrix liked to play with her food, Hermione reminded herself bitterly. She wasn't sure if it would've been worse to have taken the torture herself, because watching Ron go through it nearly broke her. Hermione knew one thing for sure; Ron hadn't been broken by the experience.
"How's he doing?", came Harry's voice. Specks of sand were still in his hair and his clothes were covered in dirt. She knew he'd been working on Dobby's grave.
"I think he'll be alright", Hermione forced herself to say. "But he won't be in a fit state for days at least, and that's with Fleur and me doing everything-", Hermione started, but trailed off.
Harry didn't respond at first.
"This is on me", he said, finally.
"What? No!", Hermione replied at once.
"I'm the one who said the damn name. Ron told us. We knew about that bloody jinx", Harry seethed.
"You didn't torture Ron. You didn't use a knife on him and...", Hermione started, but choked up, trying not to burst into tears.
"Only person to blame is You-Know-Who's whore", came Ron's groggy voice.
"Ron! I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you", said Hermione, turning immediately to him.
"S'fine. I've slept enough I reckon", he said, slowly sitting up.
Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks, both of them not knowing what to say.
"How are you feeling?", Harry asked finally.
"About the same as two minutes after I destroyed the locket. Add in a bit of pain on my chest and a headache and that's about where I am", said Ron after sipping some water from his bedside table.
Hermione was lost, but when she looked at Harry, she could tell that the two of them were keeping something from her. Harry and Ron exchanged another one of their looks where the two of them would silently communicate. It had always made her jealous, how close their bond was. Harry had an easier time warming up to Ron when he returned by far. Harry always seemed to understand Ron better than her and Ron was the same - he always seemed to know how Harry was feeling.
She knew that she would ask exactly what Ron meant, but not now.
"I've got... stuff to do", said Harry. Neither Ron nor Hermione were used to Harry being so cryptic, but Ron wasn't in much of a state to follow and Hermione wasn't leaving Ron's side any time soon.
"Ron I don't even know what to say", she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm pretty surprised you're here to tell you the truth", said Ron.
"What? Why?", Hermione asked.
"I didn't think you'd ever forgive me. Didn't think I deserved it anyway", Ron said, looking down at his hands.
"Ron, I know I've been - for lack of a better word, an absolute cow since you got back, but I've never thought you were beyond forgiveness. Wait a moment... please don't tell me that's why you did it", said Hermione, feeling herself going pale.
"No. I just thought 'better me than her' and that was that", said Ron.
"After the way I've treated you", whispered Hermione.
Ron shrugged.
"Doesn't change anything. You'd be a bigger loss than me", said Ron. His tone was so casual that Hermione wanted to be sick.
"You can't think that", Hermione choked out.
"Why not? You do", said Ron. There was no accusation in his tone. No bitterness. No anger. No resentment.
It was still casual, as if what he said was just... expected and Hermione wanted to scream. She took a deep breath and forced back her tears when she replied.
"Ron, please listen to me. Whatever I've said and done that's got you thinking like this... it was nonsense. I was wrong and I'm sorry. You just proved that you... God I can't even think of words that are good enough", she said. She could no longer hold back her tears.
"Can I get that in writing?", Ron asked feebly.
"You'll get more than that", Hermione said, forcing words through her tears. "I'll be better. I won't let you go on thinking things like that about yourself. You just let yourself get tortured for me"
"You won't change my mind about that one", said Ron, fiercely. "I'd do it again if it came to it".
Hermione's self control finally collapsed and her body was wracked by sobs as she launched herself at Ron and held onto him for dear life.
It took a moment before Ron gingerly wrapped an arm around her in return.
She tried to repeat the word 'sorry' through her sobs, but she doubted that the word was even remotely coherent, but the feeling of Ron's arm around her was more than slightly helpful. She found herself calming down in a few short moments.
"It was the worst thing I've ever seen", she said, wiping her eyes.
"That bad?", Ron asked.
"That bad", echoed Hermione.
"If I do get tortured again, I'll try to make sure you don't have to see it then", said Ron, apparently trying to inject some humour into the situation. It didn't work.
"Don't joke about that", said Hermione, standing up beside the bed again and pulling away from Ron.
"Sorry. I won't", said Ron, looking chastised.
"Try to get some rest", said Hermione, her voice much softer again. "If you need anything, please just tell me"
Ron opened his mouth, apparently ready to ask for something, but closed it again.
"Yes?", asked Hermione.
Ron gave her a smile that mystified her.
"Don't worry about it. I think we can win this thing. It might be a better idea to ask you later", he said, finally.
Why was he being so cryptic? It was rather out of character to see the least.
"If you say so", said Hermione, looking at Ron, searching for a sign that could explain what on Earth he was talking about.
"I'll try to get back to sleep. You don't have to stay", said Ron, still smiling as he repositioned himself to lie back in the bed.
"I know", said Hermione, who proceeded to sit back down in the chair beside Ron's bed.
She wasn't going anywhere.