I find that switching to Hermione's point of view sometimes helps put things into better perspective, seeing how she sees things, and how she sees Carina. I also find that I tend to be very cruel to poor Carina, considering this is the 26th chapter and she still hasn't gotten any love. Then again, my story IS a slow burn one, and the way I've written it, Hermione still has feelings for Ron and maybe something else. And yeah, Carina's been through a lot, hasn't she? But, she's strong, so she'll make it. I think. Who knows how I'll end the story?

They were all thrown apart when they reached their destination, and Carina was aware of a searing pain in her right side as she hit the ground with a hard thud.

She rolled, and then found herself biting back a scream of pain when she landed on her side; she fell onto her back, vision blurring. All she could feel was pain, and she gritted her teeth as she turned her head to the side, noticing that Ron, too, had gotten splinched. Hermione was tending to him, and Harry was also hovering over the other boy, but he was the one who noticed her.

He said something to Hermione, whose head whipped around to see her.

(Hermione's P.O.V.)

"Hermione," said Harry urgently, grabbing her arm. "Hermione, Carina got splinched, too—"

Hermione, who had at first been consumed with worry for Ron, was now filled with fear for Carina as her head whipped around to survey the other girl. Carina lay on her back, in a shirt that rode up to her chest and a skirt that now only reached just above mid thigh, head turned toward them.

"I…" Hermione started, glancing back at Ron. His arm was bad, but it was healing thanks to the dittany…."Watch Ron." She quickly scrambled to where her other friend lay, black hair spread in all directions on the ground, a giant pool of blood seeping from her right side—what made Hermione sick was that a large chunk was missing. Hazy gray eyes regarded her as she pulled up the shirt and began to hurriedly apply the dittany with shaky hands. "It-it's going to be alright, Carina, just hold on, I'll fix this…"

Carina whimpered loudly as it touched her side, body trembling furiously as the dittany caused what bit of skin there was to stitch together, leaving large, angry red scars spreading across her side and her stomach. They did not heal well—they were terrible looking, really. The raven haired girl let out a strangled scream as her side partially mended itself, and it struck Hermione to the core.

Oh, this is all my fault...they're both hurt!

"I'm so sorry!" She could feel tears well up in her own eyes. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to hold on…"

Pale fingers clawed in the dirt, and gray eyes refocused on her face as Carina drew in a shuddering breath; every other one she took from that moment on was ragged.

Hermione felt as though she would vomit, and did not notice that the other girl had managed to push herself up on her elbows slightly, so that she was able to see better, and before she was gently pushed back down, she caught sight of her wound and whimpered again.

"Harry, we need to set up protection spells…" The boy had already set up the tent, and was now working on levitating Ron inside. Once finished, he came out a few moments later and knelt beside the girls. Hermione took Carina's hand, which was very cold, and winced. "How is he?" She did not take her eyes off the other witch.

"Fine," Harry replied quietly. "Unconscious, but otherwise fine."

"If I hadn't have been in such a hurry…" She cursed aloud.

"Where are we?"

"I went camping here with my parents once….oh, I'm sorry, Harry! Yaxley grabbed me and I couldn't apparate us to the house without him finding out, but I think he's already seen…"

The boy froze. "He can't get in, can he?"

She bit her lip, feeling very guilty at the moment. "I think he can, Harry."

He gritted his teeth. "Alright then."

"I…"

"Don't worry about it." There was a deep frown on his features, but he looked down at Carina. "I'll get her in the tent, if you want to go set up the protection charms and wards. You're better at those than I am, anyway."

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded and released the hand she had been holding, grabbing her wand and getting to her feet. As she circled their campsite for a good distance, setting up the necessary wards and protections, she could not help but think about how much easier this would have been if Carina hadn't been splinched. She knew all the necessary spells and more, because of all her time spent in the Black family library, and would have been a great help. It certainly would have gotten done faster.

But it's you're fault she's hurt, whispered a voice in her mind. That they're both hurt. You're the one who apparated them out of there, it's your doing…

Shut up, she told it, not having the time to feel foolish as she finished the spells.

Once done, she crawled into the tent and straightened; Carina lay on one bunk, bandaged all the way around her torso and back, and Ron lay on the other, a bandage winding up and around his left shoulder.

Neither were awake, but they were certainly a sight to behold.

Hermione perched lightly on the edge of Ron's bed and brushed his hair back from his forehead. "They should be awake in a couple days."

Harry merely nodded, taking the locket and grabbing his wand. "I think I'll go take watch, alright?"

"Yes, alright." She waved him off and was about to possibly kiss Ron's cheek, but was instead stopped by a small grunt coming from the other bunk.

She moved over to drop to her knees beside Carina, who was still unconscious but had shifted so that her arm was draped over her injured side, which was the cause of the noise.

Hermione stared at her intently. She had always known Carina Black to be beautiful—always. It was a fact, like saying the sky was blue and Harry's eyes were green. But she had never paid as much attention as she did right now, and without realizing, her hand came up to gingerly trail along the side of the other girl's aristocratic face. Her features were all well defined: straight nose, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and then there were the dark, arched brows and full lips. She was a true picture of beauty, if anything, like a greater majority of the Black family happened to be.

She compared such a person to Ron, who was all red hair, freckles, long nose and slightly less gangly limbs than when they were children. He had not changed, much, aside from developing the strong jaw and broad shoulders many men were meant to have; he could even be considered handsome. The two were so different, despite just being male and female—as they had grown older, after everything that had happened, they clashed more than ever, now.

They would probably never be friends again. It was a miracle Carina had been thoughtful enough—though nevertheless reluctant, she was sure—to grab Ron before they apparated away without him.

The bookworm sighed as her fingertips came to trace over the scar marring the other girl's face.

She's only seventeen, and already bound to be covered in them before the war ends. She glanced back and outside, noticing how dark it had gotten. I suppose I'd better get some rest, if I'm to take the next watch and let Harry get some sleep of his own.

Quietly, carefully, she climbed into her own bunk and curled up on her side.

~~~xxx~~~

Two days later, Hermione was sat outside, attempting to keep watch while rather impatiently waiting for either Ron or Carina to wake. It was just her and Harry for now,and switching the locket back and forth between just the two of them wasn't doing much good. Besides, she wanted her prediction to have been true.

A few moments later, she heard a voice and loud hiss of pain, "What the bloody—"

It was Carina.

"You got splinched," she could hear Harry offering. "Ron, too. Hermione patched you both up as best as she could, and I got some bandages on the both of you. I wouldn't really advise sitting up much unless you're sure you can handle it."

"I'm fine." There was a puff of breath, and then she could hear a grunt. "I can do it."

"Carina, you're missing part of your side."

"You think I don't know that?" There was a pause. "Where's Mione?"

Said girl's brows furrowed. Mione? Carina had not called her that in ages, but she herself had slipped up a few times with her own nickname for the other witch.

It made her feel...good, to hear it said again. Not annoyed as she would have been if it were the boys. Perhaps it was because it made it sound like things were back to the way they were, even though they weren't and would never be again.

"She's outside. It's her turn to keep watch."

"How long has she been out there?"

"A few hours at most. We've been switching off since we've got here."

"Yeah, well…" There was another grunt. "I'll see you in a few hours, then."

Hermione could hear Harry heave a sigh, and then get up. "Let me help you."

"No."

More grunts and growled curses followed, along with a few whimpers of pain, but then Hermione found herself looking up at Carina, who was standing above her and leaning heavily on the staff—a large, thick branch Harry had found that would be suitable to help keep the pressure from her side—she had been given.

"Your time's up," she told Hermione. "My watch. Go on in."

"No," refused Hermione, watching her with unveiled concern. What if she fell and injured herself more? What if they were attacked and she got hurt trying to fight? The what ifs ran through her mind, but she did not have time to stop the raven haired girl as she slowly lowered herself down with gritted teet. "Carina…"

"I've been out for two days, Hermione." The older witch frowned slightly at that, but could not comment. After all, she did not want to be accused of eavesdropping or make Carina think that she was being pressured into something. "I need to do something. Go and...go watch Ron."

She studied Carina, who had one arm slung around her side protectively and the other still gripping the staff tightly. Her head was ducked, but Hermione could see through the curtain of dark hair, see the lips drawn in a thin line and see the muscles in her jaw working as she stared at her legs.

"I don't need to go watch Ron." That didn't mean she was not worried about him, however. Not by a long shot. She was, and she wanted to go check on him; but, she knew that Ron was safe inside the tent with Harry to watch over him. Leaving Carina out here alone wouldn't be the best thing to do; right now, Carina was her main focus. "It's my watch. You should be resting and letting your side heal."

There was a snort, and then the curtain parted as the other girl lifted her head and trained gray eyes upon her. "I've had worse."

Hermione's heart clenched. She knew that. She knew her friend had had a bad childhood full of abuse, knew that her memories were so bad she had countless nightmares and could barely even look at a dementor without getting anxious, knew that she had been placed under the cruciatus by Umbridge their fifth year. She had watched, for Merlin's sake!

"What the minister doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, lightly placing the framed picture face down on the desk. She trained her wand on Harry and opened her mouth, but no words would come out.

All heads turned to Carina, who was still caught in the crushing embrace of Goyle and staring at the professor with wide eyes.

She didn't mean to do it, Hermione realized. It was accidental magic. And now…

One of the Slytherins undid the spell at Umbridge's furious gesturing, and the woman rounded on Carina, obviously angry. "Miss Black—"

"—no," interrupted Carina furiously. "No. That's just wrong, wanting to use that on—"

"Would you propose I use it on you instead?"

The eerily calm tone of the woman contrasted greatly with her red face, and Hermione could see Harry frantically shaking his head over Umbridge's shoulder; she caught the eye of Carina and shook her own, but the other girl did not, would not, listen.

"Yes."

Hermione was inwardly cursing and began to struggle against Crabbe, only to be tugged at by the hair and have a wand pressed to her temple, causing her to freeze.

"Crucio!"

Goyle managed to keep hold of Carina as she writhed in pain, letting out a strangled scream that did not quite seem to want to leave her throat; or, she wasn't letting it.

He dropped her the more she squirmed, and she collapsed to the floor with a hard thud, still writhing about, hands coming to tear at her hair as she locked her jaw together. It did not stop the whines of pain from escaping her, however, and it made Hermione flinch.

She did not want to watch this, but could not look away….

The spell ended, and Umbridge towered over Carina, who had shakily worked herself up onto her knees and removed her hands from her hair. The woman leaned down to speak to her, "Are you finished, Miss Black? Are you willing to give me what I want?"

Carina swallowed hard, gray eyes still rather wide and watery, but then they steeled, and her lips drew together in a hard line. Then, she did something incredibly stupid.

She headbutted the older witch, causing her to stumble back and nearly fall on her fat rear. However, it was Goyle who hastily righted her, and in a flash her wand was directed at Carina again.

"Crucio!"

This time, there was no stopping the scream, and Hermione could feel the tears slide down her cheeks.

Despite that, she did not like to think about such things, not typically. But, she knew Carina and knew that she would not go inside until she had done what she came to do.

"I realize, but—"

"—Hermione."

Hermione stopped for a moment. "Yes?"

"Give me the locket. It's probably not making you feel very good right now."

That was true. It felt ice cold against her skin, and at times she could hear small whispers in her head, telling her things she did not want to hear; she ignored them, however, and focused on other things more often than not. It felt uncomfortable to have around. It felt...evil. Which it was—it was a piece of soul from the crazed wizard who wanted to take over the world and killed and tortured for fun. He was evil.

"Are you sure?" She hesitated. "It won't feel any better on you. It might feel worse, because you're hurt and therefore vulnerable..."

Carina merely raised a brow which would have seemed rather challenging, had she not winced halfway through.

"Alright," murmured Hermione. She lifted the locket from her head and slung it over Carina's, and the other girl's head dropped back against the edge of the tree Hermione had been leaning on. She made to speak again, but the following voice from inside the tent had her starting, and she hurried to the tent door. There was Ron, sitting up and watching her.

"'lo, Mione," he greeted wearily, smiling at her. Her stomach fluttered. "How long was I out for?"

"Two days," she answered, glad that he too had woken up. She returned the smile and moved closer to his bedside, not noticing that Harry had slipped out to take her place outside.

(AND back to Carina's P.O.V.)

Carina grumbled to herself as she adjusted her crossed arms, wincing as she jostled her side. It was still disconcerting knowing that there was a chunk missing.

"Stupid ginger," she muttered. "Stupid bloody gingers and their stupid, nonexistent charms."

"Nonexistent charms?"

The voice had her jumping slightly and made her flinch again, glaring at Harry as he moved to sit across from her. "Nothing."

He shrugged. "Alright. How're you feeling?" She gave him a deadpan look. "Sorry, I know, just a habit to ask, I suppose. Ron's awake."

"I heard." She huffed and recrossed her arms. "Stupid ginger."

"He's not stupid," defended Harry. "Just...he doesn't think about what he's doing."

"Or saying."

"Or saying." The raven haired boy admitted this and nodded. "Hermione gave you the locket?"

"More like I made her." Carina snorted, and then stopped. She was not in the mood for company right now. Right now, she wanted to be alone and not have to bother with Harry Potter and his small talk, forgiven or not. "Now let me do my job. Go back inside."

"You probably shouldn't be out here alone." Green eyes regarded her warily. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

To prove her point, she gritted her teeth hard, jammed her staff into the ground, and used it to help hoist herself to her feet without hurting herself anymore than she already was. She leaned heavily on it and bared her teeth at Harry when he attempted to help her, before forcing herself not to scream as she walked off.

When she was a good few yards away and he was significantly smaller, she nodded once at him and sunk to the ground, whimpering.

Harry seemed to sigh and went back inside, while Carina tipped her head back to stare at the changing leaves above her, letting out a long breath.

She'd thought her and Hermione had been getting along quite well lately, until just now when she had run to Ron the minute he awoke—she should have known it was too good to be true. She remembered bits and pieces of when Hermione had been healing her with the dittany, even, remembered the other with holding her hand and the concerned and panicked brown eyes staring down at her.

But now, she remembered that that panic was not just for her. It had been for Ron Weasley first, and that had struck a chord within her.

Because she certainly wasn't special.

Well, to Luna I am, she admitted to herself. She believed that much. Sadness swept over her. I miss her...I wonder if she got that patronus alright…

And if she didn't? whispered a soft, silky voice. What if Umbridge recognized your patronus and your voice, realized who the recipient was supposed to be, and tortured her for information? What if she's dead? It would be all your fault…

All my fault? No, she's alive! Of course she's alive, Ginny wouldn't just let Umbridge do that to her—she'd hide her somewhere—

But what if she isn't? it repeated, sounding so convincing she had to shake her head hard. What if she is dead? You'd have killed her…

She's not dead.

And what about dear Hermione? She only sees you as a friend, and pines after Ronald Weasley...you're not good enough, will never be good enough for her—

—maybe I—

—you are worthless! Useless. You will surely get her killed as well, and look where your pining has gotten you.

A mental image of Hermione leaning over the injured Ron on the bunk in the tent hit her, and she felt sick. She could see what the other girl had meant about her being vulnerable right now.

Stop. This is MY mind. Get out.

She'll always love the poor, clueless boy with the big family, the boy who can protect her properly...the normal boy….but the girl with all the money she could want and more? No. She doesn't want the abused, empty shell of a girl who could never love her properly—

Carina could feel the cold seep from the locket and into her chest and cringed, slamming up her mental walls. She sighed in relief when the voice and the cold disappeared, closing her eyes.

Perhap the voice had been right. Maybe Luna was dead. Maybe Hermione would never love her. Maybe she was worthless, and maybe she was nothing but an empty shell of who she had once been.

But, no. It would do no good to dwell on such things and she knew it; but, the words continued to echo around in her mind, unable to get rid of them now. Now that she had heard them, they were all she could think about. She had been right—Hermione must not have felt very good, having to wear it so often and endure whatever that had been, if she did at all. Despite the events that had transpired, Carina was glad she had taken the locket from the older witch—she was sure she could handle it better, anyway. At least then Hermione wouldn't have to deal with it.

Now she really wished Luna were here. She needed someone to talk to.

Carina sighed heavily.

Great. Now she had a headache.