Chapter 19 - Splinched

Her breathing was short and quick, as if she had just run a marathon. Tears streamed down her face like an everflowing waterfall. Her sleeves were large and baggy and getting in her way. Her hair was an even bigger mess, bushier than ever and cluttered with odd sticks and leaves. Her hands were covered in blood.

But Hermione Granger was not the least bit concerned about what she looked like, however, or how she felt. Her only concern was for the writhing form of the man she loved who was sprawled across the forest floor, half of his left arm splinched. Splinched. Hermione couldn't believe it. It was all her fault, Yaxley had managed to grab onto her as they were disapparating back to Grimmauld Place so she had to disapparate to the first place she thought of; Forest of Dean. But the boys had no idea that they were about to go again, so Ron had gotten splinched along the way.

Her hands shook violently as she undid his buttons in a frantic manner. She cried to Harry for him to give her the Essence of Dittany, her attention still locked on Ron and his left arm. He was grunting and whimpering in pain, the sounds of which tore at Hermione's heart. Between her beyond bleary vision and trembling hands, Hermione somehow managed to apply the Dittany. Ron's struggling breaths started to slow and become more normal. Hermione watched over him for a moment before realising how exposed they were.

Standing up as steadily as she could, Hermione began muttering protective enchantments and spells that started to take shape like a dome around them. Muttering something about a tent to Harry, Hermione finished her spells by walking around the dome that was large enough for their tent and for them to be able to obtain a few raw materials such as fruit and vegetables.

Mustering all of his strength, Ron struggled up to a half-standing position, his arm ached but it was nothing compared to the unspeakable pain that seared through it about five minutes ago. Hermione was walking around some sort of blue dome that Ron reckoned was charms and spells to keep them safe. Harry was pitching a tent with his wand and looked nearly done, but Ron still staggered towards him, holding his arm that made him wince when he tried to move it.

"Ron!" Hermione called from the other side of the tent, she came running toward him. He noticed that her hands were covered in blood. His blood.

"Hermione." Ron breathed as he tried to reach for her hands but he winced in pain again, his arm feeling like it was about to fall off.

"Ron, we need to get you inside!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice wavering. Ron, however, felt that her voice was muffling and lowering in volume each word she said. His legs felt weak and his vision became suddenly hazed and bleary. The last thing he could remember was hitting the damp forest floor.

Hermione shrieked as Ron hit the ground. She rushed over to him quicker than she thought her body could take. Her hands began trembling furiously again and tears flooded her cold cheeks. Using all of her might, Hermione tried to push him up whilst being careful of Ron's arm, but it was no use. Thankfully, Harry had rushed around the corner of the tent and between the two of them they carried Ron's limp body by draping each arm over their shoulders.

It had been about three years since Harry last used a wizarding tent, so naturally he was taken aback by the large interior compared to the outside. However, the tent only occupied his attention for a second before he was brought back to carrying his unconscious friend's body into a different room that Hermione had led him into.

Harry hadn't felt so distressed in all of his life and he reckoned Hermione felt much the same, if not worse. They had laid Ron down on one of the bunks that sat in one of the makeshift rooms the tent held.

Hermione had asked him to supply her with a wash bowl filled with warm water and a cloth. Harry obliged wordlessly, returning to the bunkroom as quickly as he could. Ron was still out of it as far as Harry could tell, but his chest was steadily rising and falling which sent relief through Harry.

"Is-will he be okay?" Harry asked in a shaky voice. But Hermione's frail and trembling voice made him consider himself lucky.

"I-I… I think s-so." She breathed in the largest voice she could, albeit small and broken.

Hermione was sitting on the edge of his bunk, Harry felt strangely out of place and as if he was intruding on a private moment. Feeling suddenly awkward, he muttered something about checking their surroundings and left the two of them.

Hermione nodded at Harry's excuse to leave, truthfully she was happy for it to be just her and Ron. She watched his breathing as if it was the only thing on the planet that mattered, and in that moment that was exactly the case. Their position strongly reminded her of when he had been poisoned, only about seven months ago.

It had been about half an hour, her own breathing had become steady and normal as she watched him sleep. She felt tiredness sting her own eyes but ignored it blatantly. Her heart lifted as he stirred into wakefulness, his eyes opening drearily and confused.

Ron couldn't decide what hurt more, his arm or his now pounding head. He looked up as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, and his heart warmed instantly at the sight of Hermione. She looked rough, as if she had been dragged through a bush backwards but she still looked utterly beautiful to Ron.

"H-how are you?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Fine." Ron mumbled, ignoring the pain the best he could. "Where are we?" His voice was curious.

"A tent in the Forest of Dean." Hermione answered softly, she gazed longingly at his face and was happy to watch it regain a tinge of colour.

She shook her head, annoyed at her own disability to remain focused. "Right. We need to get you cleaned up. Drink this, please." Hermione thrusted a phial of Healing potion at him. "It will relieve the pain. I promise." She assured, watching him sniff the liquid cautiously.

After he finished, Hermione carefully began dabbing at his still exposed shoulder. She winced as he gasped. "Sorry." She said guiltily.

"No." Ron shook his head. "Your hands." He weakly held her small hands that were now dry with blood.

"Oh." Hermione dismissed, "it's fine." She had completely forgotten about her own hands. Ron looked at her imploringly, however. "It's fine, Ron. It will come off with the warm water which will turn cold if you don't just let me tend to your arm." She said firmly.

Ron smiled, amusedly. She reminded him of the eleven year old girl who had criticised his spell work on their first ever journey on the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione's lip was bit with focus as she pressed the cloth into his arm as gently as she could. Now that she was calm enough to register their proximity, heat almost instantly coursed through her as she became suddenly aware of the fact that she was currently leaning over his chest. His bare chest. She shivered with a feeling that could only be that of desire, annoyed at her body for taking advantage of his poor state.

As she cleaned most the blood away, even more tears sprung to her eyes as she took in the full force that was his wound.

"Hermione?" Ron breathed as he watched her face drain of colour.

"I-I'm so sorry, Ron." Hermione restrained her persistent sobs as her eyes scanned his arm over and over.

"What for?" Ron gave a small chuckle.

"You getting splinched." She cried, tears rolling freely like a river in the forest they had retreated to.

"And how on earth was that your bloody fault?" He tried to sit up but it was surprisingly difficult without the support of his left arm.

"D-don't." Hermione rushed her hands to his chest so she could lightly push him back down to the bed. She let her hands linger for a moment, in fact she couldn't move them if she wanted to. Ron was a magnet and she was an easy piece of metal; the attraction far too great to be able to ignore.

Ron felt his breath catch in his throat at Hermione's touch that scorched his freezing cold skin. She had touched him before, obviously, but he didn't think he'd ever lose that feeling of fire roaring in every nerve of his body, especially the southern region.

"I, I, I'm so sorry. If I had just focused properly when we were disapparating than this never would've-"

"Hermione, you saved us!" Ron argued, it was just like her to blame herself and only view the negatives.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were in greater pain." Hermione countered, her eyes full of guilt as she looked into his own.

"Be lucky if I could talk at all if I was in greater pain." Ron's attempt at levity clearly didn't reach the intended outcome as Hermione frowned. "Hermione, I'm fine. I promise." He said sternly, taking her hand that was still against his chest.

Hermione nearly gasped at his touch, she had forgotten the location of her hands. Ron began to rub soft circles on her hand with his thumb. All she wanted to do was crash into his chest, but his current physical state stopped her. "D-do you want some tea?" She offered, trying to slice the thick tension that was intoxicating her. "Your hands are freezing."

"Sorry." Ron retracted his hand quickly. Hermione shook her head, she wasn't complaining about his hands and definitely did not want him to think that, but instead of further protesting, she got up and sighed, and left to make his tea.

It had grown cold, dark and miserable outside, Hermione observed from where she stood at the tent's opening, watching the trees thrashing in the wind. She thought that the weather rather reflected the day's events. Ultimately, it could've been called a success; the locket was found and in their possession, which was the main goal of the day.

However, Hermione couldn't help but feel that what they had lost outweighed what they had gained. They were discovered, which she knew was probably inevitable, but she had absolutely no idea that Yaxley would've managed to grab hold of her in that last split second. She shuddered at the thought of what Grimmauld Place looked like right now, Hermione could only hope that Kreacher had somehow gotten to safety. Guilt still rode her as she recalled the events every time she shut her eyes.

The largest sting of the day was what lay behind the thin sheet of canvas that divided the bedroom from the rest of the tent. Her heart ached as she thought of Ron squirming in agony on the floor beneath her uselessly shaking hands. The oath she had made to herself to not allow her heart to obstruct the plan was crumbling to non-existence, much like she had expected. Hermione knew there would be incidents like this, where she would have to watch the ones she loved the most in terrible pain, but nothing could prepare her for it, the real thing. Especially not so soon in their hunt, especially not Ron.

As if her mind had summoned his presence, Hermione heard the zip undo, and surely enough out came Ron with a mug in his hand.

"There you are." He said with relief, "thought you were having a particularly hard time or something in the loo."

Hermione turned over her shoulder and offered a small smile, admiring his ability to make jokes after whining in pain only a few hours ago.

Dinner had been quiet, Hermione had managed to pack a few sandwiches in case they had to stay through the night at the Ministry as they awaited the opportunity to steal the locket. That same locket was hanging around Harry's neck; Hermione thought that it was somehow causing him to be more subdued, but shook her head at her own delusions. It had been a long day to digest, no wonder Harry wasn't up to speaking about it, or anything to be honest.

This was unlike Ron, however, who still tried to make light conversation with the other two around their measly supper. Hermione wished she had the strength to contribute more than a few non-committal chuckles of acknowledgement, but the day's events were taking a toll on her, too, and even though she suspected that sleep wouldn't come easy, that was the only ambition she had for the evening.

But proving herself annoyingly right, Hermione couldn't sleep. Ron had dozed off in his bunk, lying on his back so his now-slinged-up arm was to feel no pain, but that did mean he was snoring. Hermione wasn't at all bothered by his snoring, however, in fact it gave her a sense of comfort; constantly hearing him and the fact he was somewhat okay. Harry was asleep too, although he hadn't much but muttered a 'good night' to herself and Ron. But unlike her friends, Hermione found no such luck in the sleep department. Fed up of tossing and turning, Hermione left her bed to occupy her mind, only to be left unsuccessful and now without the soothing sound of Ron or the warmth of her bunk. Until he had gotten up, too, of course.

Ron placed his empty mug in the sink and walked over to Hermione who had been exceptionally quiet since dinner. He knew she still felt guilty if nothing else from the day they had experienced. "You alright?" He cursed himself for asking such a stupid question.

"Good. Just couldn't sleep." Ron only believed half of her short reply.

"Really? I was knackered, just woke up by the sound of the wind. Bit unlike me, ay? Usually sleep through anything." He tried to make normal conversation, just like he had at dinner, but once again it was met with a cold silence. "Hermione," he sighed.

"How's your arm?" She asked, ignoring the dejectedness in his voice.

"It's fine, how are you?" He repeated.

"You already asked me that." Hermione said dryly as she continued to stare at the rain.

"You already asked me about my arm. About ten million bloody times just this evening."

"That's because I care, Ron." Her empty voice was now filled with agitation.

"So do I, Hermione." He replied firmly, looking into her eyes harshly. "So please don't lie to me when I ask you how you are." He added more softly.

Hermione looked away from his imploring glare, he was right, of course, but the day's events weren't exactly what she wanted to talk much about.

"Sit with me?" Ron asked, hopeful that she would at least sit beside him even if she wasn't up for talking.

Hermione continued to say nothing but nodded at his request, following him to the small sofa. They both sat in silence before Ron put his good arm around her, pulling her closer into a half-hug.

Clinging onto his top, Hermione wrapped her other arm around his good shoulder, making her feel safe as she held onto him.

"You were brilliant today, by the way." His comment was no more than a whisper and Ron wondered whether or not it was the best move to talk about today when Hermione so clearly didn't want to. But she needed to know that what she had done was amazing. And he was more than happy to enlighten her.

His words were spoken so confidently, yet softly, that made Hermione feel like the only other person on the earth; something Ron could invoke so effortlessly. Turning her head, she buried her face into his shoulder as tears began to fall again. Ron tightened his grip on her as she nestled into him. "What about Grimmauld Place? What about Kreacher? Everything's ruined because Yaxley caught me." She confessed through a muffled voice.

"So? That bloody house could do with a revamp anyway. Besides, I don't even think that that bastard managed to get in. So, Kreacher's probably fine. Grizzly, but fine." Ron reasoned.

Hermione looked up at him, her mind far too focused on his use of the word 'probably'. "But it's all Harry has left of Sirius. He looked devastated at dinner."

Ron sighed as he recalled Harry's damp demeanour that evening. "Harry knows you did everything you could, which is a landslide better than either of us could do." He assured.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Thank you. You have no idea how much you mean to me." She whispered up at him, the horrific events of the day emboldening her.

Ron felt choked by her words but still managed to say, "if it's anywhere near how much you mean to me, then I have a bit of an idea." He would sooner die right now for her than watch her suffer any more from this bloody war.

Hermione felt consumed by the depth of his words. She took back all of the times she had joked about his lack of emotion, even his dark eyes were pouring tonnes of emotion into her heart, causing her to feel nothing but love and adoration. All she wanted was him and for him to be safe, she would fight any war for that.