So Foul and Fair a Day - R/Hr - PG-13
Title: So Foul and Fair a Day
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 407
A/N(optional):



The amount of blood was appalling and Hermione's hands slid through it as she tore his sleeve open and pressed them against his mangled arm.

"Harry," she moaned, "quickly, the Dittany."

"What am I looking for?" he asked, one hand rummaging inside her bag.

She pressed harder and Ron's head tipped back and he cried out in pain, before going limp.

"Little brown bottle," she snapped, tying the ripped strips of cloth around his upper arm and twisting hard. "Harry, please."

The bleeding lessened, but was that because her makeshift tourniquet was working, or because... because Ron's strong heart had been beating so fast, as they ran.

As they fled, dragging the Death Eater with them, as Hermione led the Death Eater right to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place and away again, twisting through space and landing in this silent place, ripping Ron's arm open.

This was all her fault and his face was so, so pale.

Harry flung himself to the ground, beside her, opening the bottle with shaking hands and handing it to her. She tried to take it, but it slipped through her bloody fingers and she wasted precious seconds wiping her hands as best she could.

Trying once more, she held it over Ron's arm and tipped it carefully, three drops splashing on the wound; green smoke clouded her view and she batted it away. Surely it seemed better; the bleeding had stopped, hadn't it?

The wound looked dryer, days old.

Scrambling to Ron's head, she lifted it onto her lap and placed her fingers on his throat, feeling for a pulse.

"He's okay, isn't he?" Harry asked, from somewhere far away as her fingers slid against cool, pale skin. "Hermione, he's going to be okay."

"I... I can't find a pulse," Hermione muttered, raising her frantic eyes to meet Harry's. "Harry, I can't..."

"No," Harry said, grabbing Ron's undamaged arm, his fingertips digging into the blue tinged skin at his wrist. "No, no, no, that's not possible. Hermione, do something."

"I... there's nothing else I can..."

She bent low, wrapping both arms around Ron's head and shoulders and holding him against her.

"Hermione!" Harry cried. "Do something."

She pressed her lips to Ron's cheek, her hands crossing on his chest, once more soaked in his blood.

There was no way she could go on, not from this, not without him.

This was all her fault.

And his blood was on her hands.