………………………………………………
I lay on the cold stone floor, every inch of my body seemingly on fire.
The pain was too much. I was dying. I felt as if my muscles had been filled with needles and then I had been repeatedly slammed into a wall. My energy was almost entirely gone. It was all I could do was to force myself to keep breathing.
I lay at the feet of my captor, my torturer- my personal demon, it seemed- trying to survive. My momentary hiatus from torment could not last much longer. As painful a mass as my body was at the moment, it was nothing compared to what it had been seconds before, when the deranged woman standing over me had actually been pointing her wand at me.
Now I could hear her questions directed at another, smaller personage. She was trying to confirm the story I had told her. Trying to make sure that the Sword of Gryffindor, the sword they had confiscated, was really only a copy. Please, please, tell her it is true! I screamed inside my head. The Goblin had to- you have to- you must- don’t say it- my thoughts were becoming incoherent. It was too much work to think. I needed my energy to fend off the pain.
“It’s a fake.”*
The reedy, nasally voice of the Goblin vibrated in my head. Yes! Yes! I almost sobbed with relief, but it would be too painful and take too much effort so I didn’t.
“Are you sure? Quite sure?”*
This low female voice made me cringe. It was a voice I would never forget. The voice of the demon, Bellatrix Lestrange.
“Yes,” *said the Goblin.
“Good,” *said the insane woman, and with a thud and a cry of pain, Griphook fell beside me. There was a muffled groan as Bellatrix kicked him out of her way.
“And now, we call the Dark Lord!”* she crowed.
No! She couldn’t! He would- Harry- No!
I had to do something. If I didn’t we would all die! I had to do something! Ron, Harry- they were in the basement- they couldn’t do anything. It was up to me. I had to save them. I had to save us all. I must! Oh, but the pain was so intense!
Bellatrix was speaking again, I could see her looking at someone across the room, her mouth moving, but I was concentrating more than I ever had in my life on forcing my body to do what I wanted. My muscles trembled as I visualized myself jumping to my feet, grabbing the wand from Bellatrix Lestrange and stunning her and whoever it was she was talking to- whoever else was in the room. I gritted my teeth. Come on, Hermione! I growled at myself inside my head. Come on! And with a small jerk, I made to stand up.
My body couldn’t take it. I hadn’t raised myself more than a few inches before I fell back to the floor and everything started to go black. A dark thought rose from the depths of my mind. Now we will all die because of me. Because I’m too weak.
As I sank hopelessly into unconsciousness, my mind conjured one last vision of hope for me: a tall redheaded man, his freckled face furious, charging through the door, wand in hand… Ron…
…
I was falling through blackness. Falling… falling… There was a rattling noise and a scream and I hit the floor with a thump. Half a second later I realized I was conscious again, and everything was black because my eyes were closed. Immediately after I discovered I was conscious I wished I wasn’t. I was still very sore, still on fire.
Then there was an enormous crash and suddenly I was being ground into the polished black marble beneath me by something heavy with many sharp points digging into my back. There was a yell, and I felt the vibrations of running feet beneath me.
The weight on my back shifted and a pair of hands seized me by the shoulders and pulled me out from under it, whatever it was, then flipped me onto my back. I could hear elsewhere in the room the sounds of more voices shouting, one of which sounded like Harry. But from right above my head came the voice I was most desperate to hear, the only voice I cared to hear.
“Hermione?” Ron whispered.
Perhaps I was dreaming. How could Ron and Harry have gotten out of the basement? They didn’t have wands…
I could feel his fingers press at my throat, checking my pulse. The voices behind him were getting louder and angrier and now there was a new voice, squeaky and defiant. I didn’t want to listen to any of them. Ron was speaking to me again.
“Hermione?” His voice was strained, he sounded upset.
I forced my eyelids to open a crack. He was leaning over me, his forehead crumpled with worry, his blue eyes wide with fear.
“Ron?” My voice came out as a whimper, the merest breath of sound.
His face filled with relief. Suddenly he moved, and now I was being swung through the air in his arms, my head resting against his shoulder. He stood up and I reached out a weak hand to grab at his sweater.
His eyes raised from my face to look at the other people in the room. His mouth twisted in a snarl.
“Ron, catch- and GO!”* I heard Harry yell and then I felt Ron lunge forward, catch whatever it was Harry had tossed and then twist sideways.
Suddenly we were being compressed, squeezed and flattened. I couldn’t breathe. Every inch of my aching body was being dragged through a tiny rubber tube, stretched to the limit. Apparating… I thought dazedly. He was apparating us to safety.
And then the world righted itself and I could smell the ocean on the breeze. Ron set off at a run, yelling.
“Bill! Bill! Fleur! Help!”
His breathing became ragged as he started running uphill. Each step made me bounce against his arms and sent a new wave of pain through me, but that didn’t matter. I was more focused on Ron’s breathing. I didn’t like the wheezing sound he was making- how hard had those Snatchers hit him?
“Ron, put me down, I can walk,” I groaned.
I reached up and touched his face with one sore hand. His lip had been split by the Snatchers when they had caught us and there was dried blood on his chin. His jaw looked swollen and was just starting to bruise.
His expression was one of worry, determination, and anger. Looking into his face brought me out of the stupor the pain had driven me into. Suddenly I was able to think again, and interesting thoughts they were.
Ron saved me. We’re safe. We have another chance to beat Voldemort. We got away. Ron just saved my life… I seemed to remember Harry saying something like that weeks ago on the snowy night when Ron had returned. We won’t die after all…
My eyes filled with tears as I realized how close we had all come to death.
“Oh, Ron,” I sobbed, digging my face into his chest. I felt too weak to do anything else. I felt Ron’s running slow to a walk and I could hear Bill’s voice, loud in the night, exclaiming over me, then, inexplicably, Luna’s voice, asking if I was alright.
I tried to concentrate but quite as suddenly as the stupor had lifted, exhaustion had taken its place.
I must be dreaming, I reflected drowsily. Luna was taken by… someone…Death Eaters, wasn’t it…? How could she be… wherever we are?
After a moment my weary brain decided it didn’t matter for now. All I needed to know now was that we were safe: Ron had come to the rescue.
It didn’t matter that he had left us. It was just a black mark on his grades. It wasn’t important now. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t there in Godric’s Hollow. He was there for me now. He hadn’t left when I needed him most.
Ron was cradling me to his chest, speaking in a quiet voice to Bill, or perhaps Luna…? He was saying something to someone. I could feel the rumble of his voice and the steady beating of his heart through the cheek I had pressed against his chest. It was a comforting sound…
I was just starting to drift into sleep when there was a burst of French above my ear. I started and peeled back the lids of my eyes to see Fleur standing over me, her hands on her hips.
“-‘ere Ron, put ‘er down ‘ere. I weel take care of ‘er,” she was saying.
“I don’t want to wake her up,” Ron whispered angrily.
“Too late,” I whispered, blinking blearily up at him.
Ron looked down at me in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he started, his face apologetic.
“’S all right,” I mumbled.
Ron shifted, bent and cautiously set me down on something comfortable, a bed. Fleur immediately started covering me with blankets while Ron straightened, looking at me. Finally Fleur stood back and crossed her arms. Ron glanced at her than bent over me again.
“Get some sleep, Hermione. I’ll be back in a while.”
He carefully wrapped his arms around me for a hug then stood up and walked away.
I gazed after him through tired eyes. Ron saved me.
Fleur started rustling around and clucking like a mother hen.
I closed my eyes.
Ron rescued… me… I thought wearily, and then… I fell asleep.
Through Different Eyes by hogwartsbookworm
Chapter Notes: Ron Saves Me. Location: Malfoy Manor, Shell Cottage.
Chapter Endnotes: *Quotes are taken from page 471 of the US Version of Deathly Hallows.Thanks for reading! Review from you = happy stomach butterflies for me!
Oh and of course, HP and all of it's awesomeness are JK's.
The interpretation of Hermione's thoughts and the idea of what happened between her and Ron when Harry wasn't paying attention... now that, dearest reader, is mine.