Okay I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone's consistent reviewing and interest in this story. Seriously, I appreciate all the comments you make and it encourages me to continue when I know that there are people out there who enjoy what I write. Once again thank you and I hope you like this chapter.

Holding her head in her hands, Fleur sat on one of the armchairs in the living room of Shell Cottage. Bill stood in front of her, watching her silently as he rested his arm on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. She hadn't moved from that spot since Molly and Apolline had shut her out of the guestroom while they tended to Hermione's injuries.

Fleur hadn't even bothered to acknowledge when the Hogwarts nurse, Pomphrey, appeared out of the fireplace only to be escorted up stairs by Harry. She just sat there in what Bill assumed was a state of shock. His heart bled for the young woman, he couldn't imagine the inner turmoil she had to be suffering from. Glancing around the room he silently acknowledged that Ron, Harry and Luna were wearing similar expressions on their faces as they sat on the sofa. Fear, concern, worry, anger danced across their faces as they sat quietly.

Time crawled by at the slowest pace imaginable before finally, the three women walked into the living room. Everyone in the room looked towards Molly, Apolline and Pomphrey with a mixture of emotions on their faces. Fleur looked up at her mother with a hopeful, pleading look in her eyes. The older Veela met her daughter's eyes with her own. The sadness in Apolline's eyes was undeniable and Fleur could've sworn that her world had come to a screeching halt as she looked at her mother.

"Fleur, my darling I am so sorry..." began Apolline. Bill watched as Fleur turned her head to his mother and Pomphrey. When the two women only offered her the same look in their eyes a crippling pain took hold of her heart. It felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs and replaced with concrete. Apolline hated the devastated look on her eldest daughter's face and the tears forming in Fleur's blue eyes.

"...What iz wrong wiz 'Ermione?" whispered Fleur quietly, so quietly that Apolline struggled to hear her. Molly and Madame Pomphrey looked at Apolline for her consent, when she nodded in approval the Hogwarts nurse stepped towards Fleur.

"Hermione Granger's injuries are far more severe than originally thought. She has suffered extensive superficial damage which will scar her for the rest of her life, we managed to give her skelle-grow potion for her fractured shoulder and broken ribs but...but there is a great deal of internal trauma that I can't help her with, I have managed to stem the internal bleeding as much as I can but Fleur...I'm not sure if we got to her in time. If she lasts the night then that alone would be a miracle."

Fleur came to her own heart-breaking conclusion as she stared blankly past her mother. Hermione was dying. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her legs gave out and she collapsed onto her knees in shock.

"Please...someone tell me zis isn't 'appening. She can't die...I love 'er..." Everyone's heart shattered at the distraught whisper that escaped from Fleur as she bent forwards and hugged herself. She barely noticed that a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around her; she simply buried her face into her mother's shoulder and sobbed.

Harry found himself in a state of disbelief as he sat with Ron and Luna, watching the strong woman that was Fleur Delacour cry her heart out. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't. How could he believe that his best friend, his confidant was clinging on for dear life just above his head? This war had already claimed so much and now its next victim could be Hermione. Injustice surged through him causing his fists to clench in anger.

Hermione was the brightest witch in Hogwarts, probably of a generation of Wizards and Witches and yet she had suffered more than anyone at the hands of Voldemort's followers. They had taken the best they had and destroyed her. It disheartened him to the point of hopelessness. If Hermione did die then what chance was there for the rest of them? Hermione was irreplaceable and to lose her...

Harry noticed a light weight on his shoulder and, glancing down, noticed that Luna was leaning on him for support as she cried silently. He quietly noticed the blooming dampness on his sweater and his heart went out to the young Ravenclaw. Wrapping his arms around Luna he held onto the distraught blonde woman. He hated feeling Luna shake uncontrollably in his arms as she cried silently.

"Just let it out Luna. Let it out" soothed Harry as he continued to hold onto Luna. She couldn't take it anymore, the fear, the uncertainty, the unknown it was all too much.

The image of Hermione's broken body underneath the chandelier played on Fleur's mind as she was held by her mother, tormenting her with every little detail. She wished with all her heart that it was Hermione's arms wrapped around her; that it was her love whispering to her that everything was going to be alright. But there was a huge chance that Hermione would never hold her again, would never whisper comforting words to sooth her again and a fresh wave of tears spilled from the corners of her eyes at the idea.

Fleur slowly began to calm down in her mother's arms. Bill had thanked Pomphrey for her assistance and the nurse had departed some time ago, aware that this was a personal matter that she had no part of. Fleur pulled away from Apolline and smiled weakly at the older woman before they both got to their feet. Without a word being spoken Fleur departed from the room with purpose in her steps, though she hadn't said where she was going everyone knew and thought better of it to disturb her.

Inhaling deeply to calm herself, Fleur placed her hand on the door handle to the guest room and pushed it open. Her pale blue eyes immediately latched onto the still form lying motionless on the bed in front of her and her heart tugged painfully in her chest as she walked slowly towards Hermione.

Blood sodden bandages had been thrown into the nearest wastebasket and had filled it to the point where it was brimming with them. Potions had been placed on the bedside table and a few of them were already empty from use.

Coming to a halt next to her beside Fleur carefully laid herself so she was lying down next to Hermione on the bed. The teen was covered in bandages and her breathing was shallow and laboured. Placing her head on the pillow a few tears escaped from her eyes and wet the pillow as she placed a protective arm around Hermione's bandaged waist.

"Don't leave me. Please 'Ermione don't die...I love you so much it 'urts to see you like zis" she whispered before pressing her lips against the brunette's cold cheek.

Praying to whatever supernatural being that may exist that Hermione would still be breathing when morning came.