Ron gently placed Hermione's limp form onto the bed in the closest room he could find. He dropped to his knees before her and frantically pushed the hair from her face. "Hermione? Hermione, please!" She stirred, moaning groggily, shifting her head slightly. Ron could tell she was in pain but did not have the means to express it fully. Her body reacted in small, pulsating tremors and looked as if she were suffering from an awful muggle fever. Nevertheless, Ron was relieved to hear her respond, even if ever so weakly. "Yes, that's it! Open your eyes, Hermione, please!"

Ron felt Hermione's chest rise as she inhaled deeply, seemingly holding the air in her lungs far too long. Suddenly she threw her body forward, sitting up. Her eyes were wide and frantic and she clawed desperately for something stable, a leftover fight or flight instinct. Ron jumped at her sudden movement. "HERMIONE!" He shouted, using his broad shoulders to wrap around her struggling form. She beat against him, still unaware of her location or circumstance. "HERMIONE! WE'RE SAFE!"

She gathered all she could muster to punch him pathetically, all the while mumbling slurred attempts of speech.

"HERMIONE. HERMIONE. YOU'RE OKAY, YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" He felt her muscles loosen as her brain struggled to compute his words. Ron never loosened his grip on her. Hermione eyes were open but Ron knew they were not seeing. As exhaustion overtook her, she gave up her attempt at harming him. He felt her become heavy in his arms and she began to sob. It was the most sobering sound Ron had ever heard. Hermione's cries were desperate and deep. They echoed throughout the house and beyond, filled with the anguish of the last few minutes and the last few years.

Ron laid her back onto the pillow, still not letting her go. He whispered words he couldn't recall if he tried and rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down until her sobs subsided and she drifted to sleep. When he was sure she was sleeping deeply he pulled his body from hers. He took in the sight of her; dried blood in a straight line on her perfect neck, a row of bruises on her collar bone that extended Merlin knows how far down her body. Ron stood to fetch a washcloth. He tenderly cleaned Hermione's neck and lightly kissed her bruise, not really sure of what else to do. In the silent house Ron's adrenaline was replaced with a sudden, overwhelming headache. His temples felt as if they would burst with pain and his spinal cord as if it would vibrate to pieces. Fleur would be in soon, once Harry was deemed okay and she would fetch them both pain tonics. Until Hermione had some, Ron wouldn't dare take anything. Once again on his knees before Hermione's bed, Ron rested his head on the soft mattress, an inch from Hermione's hip. He wanted to call out to someone, anyone to hear if Harry was alright but his body wouldn't respond. His thoughts couldn't process anything but Hermione right now. Ron put Hermione's small hand in his and lost himself in the sound of her breathing, staring at the wall, staring into nothingness.