J.K. Rowling is a genius. I’m playing with her stuff, but I promise to put it all back when I’m done. No infringement is intended.
Many thanks to Natalie/HestiaJones for her beta work
Scenes From Shell Cottage: Chapter One
They came out about ten yards from the front door of Shell Cottage. His knees hit the ground and he immediately felt her struggling in his arms. “Let me go,” she said frantically. “Don’t touch me!” Her voice was weak, but full of anger and fear.
“Hermione…” he said, trying to settle her. He held her from behind, her back against his chest, and she tried to elbow him in an effort to free herself. But she had so little strength that Ron barely felt her effort. He loosened his arms almost entirely, only spotting her so she wouldn’t fall. “Hermione.” He said her name plain and strong, willing her to come around and know him, to realize he wasn’t Lestrange or that bloody werewolf. Or would she even know what had nearly happened with Greyback? He hoped not.
She stopped moving at the sound of her name and turned her head to the side, looking for him. He came the rest of the way around, shifting to face her. “It’s me.” He tentatively put his hands on her upper arms, and this time she did not resist. She lifted her eyes and met his for the first time since Harry had said the name in the tent. “It’s just me,” he said again, his own eyes burning from what he saw in hers.
She leaned into him and tried to sit up onto her knees, but she was too weak. Her face crumpled and she gave in to the tears. “I can’t walk,” she said in a small voice.
He lifted her easily, threshold-style, and turned toward the house. Everyone was filing out now, having heard the crack that was their arrival. Bill, Fleur, Dean and Luna were there. Ron nearly collided with them in the doorway.
“Ron,” Bill said, sounding scared.
“We’re okay,” Ron told him, hoping it wasn’t a lie. “Where can she”” he asked, looking at Fleur.
“Ze room you used at Christmas is ze most comfortable,” she said quickly. She touched a hand to Hermione’s face in an effort to help, but this made Hermione cry harder and bury her face in Ron’s sweater.
“Find Harry,” Ron told his brother as he shifted Hermione’s weight up higher, so her head rested on the top of his shoulder. “Hermione, we’re at Bill’s house,” he spoke quietly to her as he took the stairs two at a time. “It’s over.”
Then her arms wound around his neck, clutching him hard as her whole body began to shake with sobs. He reached the room, pushed the door open with his foot, and made his way over to the bed. The area was dimly lit by a small lamp on the bedside table.
“It’s over now,” he said again as he leaned down to place her on the bed. But instead of releasing him to lay down, she only clutched him tighter, giving in to a fresh batch of trembling sobs. He turned around and sat down on the bed instead, the mattress complaining loudly under both their weights. Hermione was in his lap with her head buried in his tear-soaked neck, crying harder than ever.
Something broke inside him. “I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he said. “I couldn’t get to you… we couldn’t…” Tears pressed at the back of his eyes, hard and demanding, but he set his jaw against them. “We were trapped… we tried everything,” he explained desperately, squeezing her tightly around her back and letting his face fall into her hair. She smelled like blood and shampoo. “I’m sorry…”
They remained like that for a long time, until she began to quiet down. He finally felt her release the parts of his sweater she had balled up in her fists.
“It’s over now,” he said one last time, feeling the truth and the lie of it. This most recent horror was over and they were hopefully safe here for as long as they could stay. But what would be next? Some new peril for certain, and they both knew it was a long way from over in the larger context. Still, she seemed to take comfort from the words; her body relaxed even more.
The door creaked and Ron sensed Fleur’s presence in the room, even sensed her magic falling around them. A peace he couldn’t explain covered his senses, replacing the fear and the regret. He rose from his spot and turned to lay her down again, and this time she did not resist. In fact, she didn’t even open her eyes. For one terrible moment, he thought she’d passed out, but then Fleur was explaining. “She will be fine, Ron. I’m making her rest now so she can regain her strength.” She studied Hermione for a long time and then asked quietly, “This is ze result of an Unforgivable Curse, yes?”
He nodded gravely, his eyes never leaving Hermione’s face.
“Why don’t you give me a few minutes with her, so I can get her cleaned up and comfortable?” Fleur suggested.
He nodded but his shoes might have been glued to the spot. He didn’t move. A moment later, his sister-in-law’s hands were on his arm. “Ron,” she said quietly. He looked at her then. “Your face is covered in blood. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Zen go clean yourself up so you will not frighten zis poor girl when she wakes up,” she said, but with kindness in her voice. “I will care for her until you return.”
He didn’t know if it was her personality or her magic, but her words were so comforting. He couldn’t help but believe her and trust that Hermione would be all right. He gazed at his friend for another long moment, then made his way to the door and slipped out into the hall.