He got a better hold of her before picking her up and heading inside. He quickly but carefully made his way up the stairs and back to her bed. He tried to gently place her down and made sure that her head was supported by the pillow properly. He heard Fleur behind him, and she quickly came over to check Hermione's forehead again. Hermione was coming in and out of consciousness, and her head was beading with sweat.
"What can I do to help?" he asked.
"Grab a wet towel to put on 'er head." He nodded and went to grab it. He found a small towel in a pantry and wet it under the bathroom sink. He still knew where everything was from when he stayed here for weeks when separated from Harry and Hermione. He shivered at the memory of that dark period of his life.
When he returned, Fleur was finishing up removing Hermione's bandage on her arm. She was muttering something under her breath. She frantically turned around and searched through her potions stash on the shelf on the other side of the room.
Sensing something was obviously wrong, he walked up to look at Hermione's arm. What he saw made him catch his breath in his throat.
"Bloody hell," he let out. Where Bellatrix had carved her arm was inflamed and oozing. It looked worse than when it was first bandaged.
"Zat's not ze worst part," Fleur said. She hurried back over, carrying a few bottles in her arms. She set them down on the nightstand and lifted Hermione's sleeve to show her upper arm and shoulder. There was a dark red line making its way up from her forearm to her shoulder. Where was it going? He gently moved her sleeve a bit further and saw it turn toward her collarbone.
No, he thought. It was making its way toward her heart. He didn't want to know what would happen if it got there.
"Whatever made zat mark on 'er arm," Fleur asked, "was it poisoned?"
"I-I don't know," he stammered. "It was the same knife that killed Dobby."
Fleur rushed out of the room. Ron turned back toward Hermione and placed his hand on her forehead. Fleur was right; it was burning up. The wound on her arm was still visible, and he felt woozy all of a sudden. He needed to sit down. He sat down and grabbed her hand. Her eyes made a tiny movement when he squeezed her hand. He placed the wet towel on her forehead and held it there with his other hand.
He was back to feeling powerless. He thought they were over the worst part, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe she just needs to sleep this off, he tried convincing himself.
Fleur came back upstairs, this time with Bill. Bill was holding the knife for Fleur to examine. She was shaking her head in defeat. She and Bill turned to have a conversation with their backs turned. He couldn't make out what they were saying. Eventually, they turned around.
"Ron," Bill began. "You stay here with Fleur and look after Hermione." Ron gave him a confused look before he continued. "We don't have all the ingredients to treat her. But I know an old friend who might. I'll try to visit him undetected and will come back with what we need."
"What's happening to her?" Ron asked, his voice trembling with worry. "What if we're too late?" He didn't even want to hear the answer.
"We think the knife was poisoned. But I'm going to hurry, I promise." Bill came up and bent down to give Ron a quick hug. He then turned to hug Fleur as she urged him to be careful. He left quickly, and Fleur turned away to hide the tears falling down her face.
"Stay with 'er. I am going to prepare ze antidote potion with ze nutrients we 'ave. We are just missing ze bezoars and ground unicorn horn." Ron nodded, and she gathered some supplies from the nightstand before leaving the room.
Ron sat there holding her hand and repositioned the damp towel with his other hand. He scanned her face for any signs of movement but found none.
"I'm so sorry, 'Mione."
His mind started catastrophizing and spiraling. What if earlier was the last time he spoke to her? The last time he looked into her eyes? Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as he struggled to stifle his sobs. He kept the towel pressed against her forehead but laid his head down on the bed as he cried. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. The mere idea of a future without her was inconceivable. Yet, his mind was flooded with haunting thoughts. What if he never got to make up for leaving them? What if he never got the chance to tell her how much she meant to him? What if he never got to see those fiery brown eyes again? Each sob that came over his body was a desperate plea to the universe for more time with her. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He wasn't sure he would ever be.
Fleur would come back every five minutes to check on her. She had marked where the line near her collarbone was originally at so they could track its progress. At this point, it had passed to somewhere below her collarbone, and Ron would look away to give Hermione some privacy when Fleur would check.
"What happens when it reaches her heart?" he asked. He didn't know why he asked; he already knew the answer. Maybe he was hoping for a tiny chance that he was wrong.
Fleur buttoned up Hermione's dressing gown and pursed her lips. She then looked at him with a sympathetic look.
"'Er heart would stop beating."
Ron furrowed his brows as he tried to stop the tears that were starting to flow out again.
"Bill will be back soon," she said, giving his shoulder a quick pat. "And Harry is 'ere," she added.
Ron looked up and saw Harry standing in the doorway. Fleur had left to give them some time alone. Harry shuffled into the room, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of Hermione lying in the bed. Ron set the towel on the nightstand and stood up. Without a word, they hugged. Ron sobbed a few more times, letting his guard down. Afterwards, Harry then moved closer to the bed and looked down at Hermione.
"I still can't believe she withstood all of that and was still able to quickly think of a lie about the sword," Harry said. Ron stood near the foot of the bed while Harry was near Hermione's shoulder, his hand playing with the bedspread at the edge of the bed. "It's all my fault," he continued, before finally breaking into sobs. Harry put his face in his hands as he sat down in the chair beside the bed.
Ron walked up and placed his hand on his mate's shoulder. "Don't say that," he said. Ron knew Harry blamed himself for saying the taboo, but it was a mistake any one of them could have made. "You helped save her. She's going to be alright." Ron wasn't sure if he believed his own words about her being okay, but he hoped Harry didn't sense that. Ron sat on the floor, leaning up against the wall.
They sat in silent vigil until suddenly Hermione began thrashing around. Ron felt a jolt of panic shoot through him. Both he and Harry jumped to their feet.
"Hermione!" they both shouted. Her body was convulsing, but her eyes remained shut. Ron was paralyzed with fear, convinced he was watching her die right before him.
"Help! Help!" Harry shouted as he ran to get Fleur. Ron finally snapped out of his frozen state and grabbed her shoulders.
"Hey, hey, Hermione, it's okay. It's okay. You're okay," he kept repeating, unsure if she could hear him. He cradled the back of her head to protect it. After 30 seconds, the convulsions stopped, and her body went limp again. He released her and took a step back, holding his breath. No, no, she can't be dead. She can't be.
Fleur came rushing into the room with Harry behind her. She asked them a bunch of questions about what had happened.
"She 'ad a seizure. It's ze poison. But she iz still alive," Fleur said. Ron let out a huge sigh of relief. He was still shaken by what he had seen. Besides being trapped in the cellar and hearing her screams, this was the most frightened he had ever been. Fleur checked Hermione's chest again, and from the look on her face, Ron knew Hermione was running out of time.
"I just need to combine ze bezoars and ground unicorn horn with ze mistletoe berries I 'ave, and it will be ready." Fleur scrambled to prepare everything. Bill was in the doorway, and Fleur motioned for him to hold something for her as she mixed the potion. Ron and Harry waited anxiously for it to be ready.
What if the potion doesn't work?
Stop, he told himself. Ron shook his head, trying to push the dark thought away. He couldn't afford to think like that.
His heart pounded relentlessly. With every passing second, fear gnawed at him that she might start convulsing again. As Fleur worked on the potion, he kept his gaze locked on Hermione, terrified that if he looked away, she might slip away from him forever.
Fleur rushed over, "It eez ready". Ron gently propped Hermione's head up, and Fleur carefully poured the potion into her mouth, making sure every drop was administered. She closed Hermione's mouth and gently massaged her throat, coaxing the potion down. Once she finished, Ron laid Hermione back down, feeling her feverish sweat-soaked hair in his hands. He brushed his fingers tenderly over her forehead, trying to offer some comfort.
"Now what?," he asked, his voice coated with desperation. He wasn't sure how long it would take for the potion to work, and he prayed that she had enough time left.
"Now we wait," Fleur replied.