Chapter Text
Ron’s heart thumped wildly against his chest. Fear was overwhelming him and the only comfort that he had was the feeling of Hermione’s body pressed tightly against his side. Of all the times they had been in peril, none had been as grave as this, not even close. He didn’t even want to picture what would happen when You-Know-Who showed up, but the image of a green flash of light directed at Hermione and himself was inevitable. They were only spares, Harry Potter’s friends, and Voldemort only wanted Harry. Their efforts over the last few months seemed in vain when in a moment it would not matter anymore whether they had destroyed some of the Horcruxes; the knowledge of their existence had been limited to only them three and the secret would die with them. Ron snapped back to reality hearing Greyback’s words, which instantly sent the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle up. The werewolf’s foul stench reached him as he’d snarled in Hermione’s face before she looked away and nuzzled further into Ron’s arm. Ron tried to wriggle free knowing it was no use, but at least he managed to slip his fingers into Hermione’s damp hand, trying wordlessly to reassure her. He would never let anything happen to her; he would die protecting her.
“Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback.”
“Wait,” said Bellatrix sharply. “All except… except for the Mudblood.”
Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.
“No!” shouted Ron. “You can have me, keep me!”
After the searing pain in his nose from Bellatrix’s jab, Ron’s eyesight fogged up and the reason he had been smacked momentarily left his mind. Then, his thoughts became focused once he heard her scream pierce the high-ceiling room, followed by more terrifying screams echoing off the walls.
“HERMIONE!” cried Ron. He found himself thrown in a dark cellar as Wormtail locked the metal bars and leered down at Harry and him. Ron didn’t hear anything except Hermione’s cries incessantly reverberating, reaching even the dungeon-like room which seemed miles away from where she was. Ron shook the cells’ bars, anxious and furious that he couldn’t be there to stop it. He closed his eyes, concentrating with all his might, envisioning himself Apparating to the drawing room where Hermione was. Never mind he had no wand, never mind that the cellar probably had anti-Apparition enchantments, he just had to get to her. His body trembled and his heart thumped ever faster in his chest. He had never felt as helpless as he did in that moment. He did not even feel like a wizard, he was absolutely powerless against the evil in this house.
“Ron!” yelled Harry, trying to get his best mate to listen. “Luna says she hasn’t been able to escape. We need to work together if we want to save Hermione.”
He could not come undone, and though he ached and felt his mouth dry and his body shake with every new cry from Hermione, he had to focus and figure out with Harry how to save her.
Luna? He hadn’t even noticed Luna’s presence. The cellar was pitch-black but realising that he had the Deluminator still, he reached for it and quickly clicked it. The room was inundated with bright light and he could see Luna and the others for the first time. He gave a small nod to Harry, letting him know that he was listening.
“I’ve been here a few months,” said Luna, staring at Ron mystically through her bruised eyes, “and Griphook says Mr. Ollivander was here before him even. None of us has had an opportunity to get a hold of a wand and escape, there are no windows and there isn’t anything we can use as a weapon.”
Harry walked briskly around the room, looking for anything the others might have missed. Though Luna looked worse for wear, at least she was standing and alert as Ollivander and Griphook were too weak to even manage to sit up. Ron heard the steps creak in time to flick the lights off before Wormtail showed his face, carrying his wand poised to attack.
“I need the goblin,” he stuttered. “Stay back!” Ron had started towards him but stopped. Hermione was no longer screaming, and his stomach lurched at the possible reason why.
“Where’s Hermione?” he demanded of the old rat.
Ignoring his question, Wormtail took Griphook and walked off, locking the door once more. Ron was starting to panic again, but he tried desperately to push out of his mind the horrors he had begun to imagine. He hopelessly tried Disapparating again but did not feel the lurch and knew that it was pointless.
If only I could do magic without a wand, he thought.
“Dobby!”
Harry looked at Ron blankly, unsure if Bellatrix’s hit might have caused him some damage.
“Harry, Dobby knows the Malfoy Manor! He was able to get in and out of Hogwarts from here and isn’t elf magic different to wizard magic?”
Harry’s eyes widened with Ron’s realisation.
“Dobby, I need you to come,” Harry stated clearly. Ron wasn’t sure if this would work, but Harry had been able to call Kreacher to him this way before so he could only hope.
With a loud crack Dobby appeared, his big tennis-ball eyes bulging even more so than usual.
“Harry Potter, sir,” squeaked Dobby the House Elf. “Harry Potter summons me and here I am, back in Dobby’s old master’s house!”
“They have Hermione, Dobby!” interjected Ron before Harry could answer the elf, “You need to save her! Take her to Shell Cottage, it’s my brother Bill’s!”
“No!” said Harry, “Ron, we need to get everyone out. Dobby, can you take Luna and Ollivander? We need to stay and wait for Wormtail to come back with Griphook, then we can take his wand and get Hermione, so Dobby comes back for us! That is, can elves Disapparate with others?”
“Yes, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby squeaked, “elf magic is much more powerful than wizard’s so we can take more people!”
Ron didn’t feel immediate relief; his anxiousness returned as he heard Hermione bellow, “No please!” He started to pace back and forth; he did not want to wait for Wormtail to return Griphook after they’d been through with Hermione’s questioning. Her screams confirmed she was still alive, but for how much longer? He didn’t even want to think about who was torturing her at the moment. He lashed out against the cell and the metal rumbled as he tried to make as much noise as possible. This was it. He was going to Wormtail back now. Once he started causing a ruckus, not even a minute later the sleazy stump unlocked the door and Harry and Ron jumped on him.
“Dobby go!” cried Harry. Dobby snapped his fingers while Ollivander and Luna held on to him and they were gone. Wormtail was pointing his wand at Harry but started to lower it and neither Ron nor Harry was ready for what happened next. Pettigrew’s silver hand turned on its master, squeezing his throat until Pettigrew croaked his last breath and fell to the earth. Ron snatched the now ownerless wand and tossed it to Harry.
“You take this, distract them while I get Hermione!” Ron ordered. He hated knowing that the Death Eaters would rather attack Harry, but it would cause the perfect distraction for him to save her. Harry agreed with a small nod and stepped out first. The room went quiet as Bellatrix and the Malfoys must have been perplexed to see that Harry had escaped. Ron heard Harry disarm someone, and he could only hope it had been Bellatrix. He looked back over his shoulder just as Harry tossed him a wand. He stormed forwards, frantically searching for Hermione before spotting her bushy brown hair in the opposite corner. His breath caught in his throat when he saw she wasn’t moving. Curses and jinxes zoomed past him, narrowly missing as he sprinted towards her. Just as he was an arm’s length away, Bellatrix turned her attention back to her prey.
“Stup –” he started but cut off before he could finish. Hermione was now standing upright, pressed against Bellatrix who held a knife to her throat. Hermione’s eyes were wide open but turned down as a tear slipped down her face. Ron didn’t move. This wasn’t it.
“That’s it, lower your wand like a good boy,” Bellatrix sneered. “Otherwise, your girlfriend is dead.”
Harry was now next to Ron, but he hadn’t felt him approach. Ron held his breath, if he cursed Bellatrix, there was a possibility that he would hit Hermione. And if his aim was correct, Bellatrix could just as easily slide the blade into Hermione’s neck during her downfall. He didn’t know what to do, and he knew Harry didn’t know either. They both began to lower their wands, fixing their eyes on Hermione as she closed hers. Ron couldn’t bear thinking that Hermione was regretting their actions, he knew that she would have rather they fought Bellatrix, but he just couldn’t do it. If he had only one purpose left, it was to take protect her.
Bellatrix cackled, stepping forward with Hermione, the knife still pressing into her pale skin and spilling a droplet of blood. Ron was too focused on her that he missed what Harry didn’t: Dobby was now in the chandelier above them. Suddenly it broke away, dropping onto Bellatrix who screamed at the pounce. Ron instantly lurched forwards and caught a falling Hermione, crushing her in his arms in relief at first before releasing her into a gentle hold when she had squirmed in pain. Harry stunned the Malfoys before calling again for Dobby. Suddenly Ron felt Harry holding onto him and Hermione along with Griphook, Dobby grasped Harry and they were all lurching into the unknown.
When they finally landed, Ron sprinted with Hermione still tightly in his arms to the cottage where he had first Apparated all those weeks ago after leaving his friends behind. The warm sun against him caused his already hot skin to sweat even more, but despite this, his arms were damper than he would have expected, the moistness making them even warmer. The light illuminated Hermione; her limp body looked even more beaten. Looking down at her arms, Ron saw the dark fluid that was dampening through her t-shirt and onto his own flesh.
“BILL, HELP!” Ron shouted towards the cottage. His brother’s scarred face immediately jumped out and came running towards him.
“What shape does Ron’s patronus take?” Bill asked keeping his distance with his wand aimed at his youngest brother.
“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!” bellowed Ron, “It’s Hermione Bill, she’s hurt!” Seeing the look on his brother’s anguished face, Bill knew that this was not an imposter, for only Ron could show this much emotion over Hermione. “They found us and Bellatrix took Hermione! Bellatrix was with her!”
Ron couldn’t bring himself to say that Bellatrix had used the Cruciatus on Hermione, he couldn’t bear to remember her screams, or to think about how much blood she had lost. Wasting no time after the discovery, Ron carried Hermione and pushed past the door to the cottage following Bill who had already called Fleur.
“’Over ‘ere,” Fleur called from a bedroom upstairs, where Ron headed at once. Fleur was getting vials and bottles from a cabinet next to a bed where he gently laid Hermione.
“What ‘appened?” asked Fleur, preoccupied with patting down Hermione and checking for her injuries.
“The Cruciatus,” replied Bill, knowing by Ron’s green complexion that he wouldn’t be able to say it.
“Hermione, we’re safe, you’re safe,” pleaded Ron, stroking Hermione’s face, which despite the day’s warmth and the last hour’s events, was icy to the touch.
“Fleur, she’s bleeding, I think from her midsection,” he said as Fleur’s wand slashed across the air over Hermione’s stomach and pulled apart her tattered shirt but found only bruising. Ron looked down at his own arms which were stained, and as he did so, Fleur let out a gasp.
“Ron…” she looked at Ron with a grimace on her face. She had just rolled up Hermione’s right arm’s sleeve to discover the source of the blood. Fleur hovered her wand over the wound and muttered an incantation to stop the bleeding, and Ron wasn’t sure what he was looking at until Fleur wiped Hermione’s arm with a dampened cloth and then it was obvious what had caused her to gasp. Mudblood had been etched in the flesh of her forearm. Ron’s nausea turned to actual sick as he bent down next to the bed.
“Essence of dittany,” said Ron, wiping his mouth. “Accio dittany!” It zoomed into his hands from one of the cupboards, his fingers trembling as he tried to uncork the vial. He and Fleur worked in unison to tend to all her bruising and cuts, Hermione’s body limp throughout. After they had done all that they could, Fleur left Ron in the room.
Everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t noticed Bill and the others scurrying outside. His sole focus had been on attending Hermione and waiting for her to wake up. He needed to see her and know that she was still Hermione. His thoughts kept trailing back to their fifth year when they had visited St. Mungo’s and met Neville’s parents. They too, had been tortured by Bellatrix because she had needed information. No, he thought, she’ll be okay, she has to be.
The light knock on the door was lost on Ron, who was too preoccupied with a million scenarios rushing through his mind. Only when Bill nudged Ron did he look up to see his brother’s face.
“Dobby died,” said Bill simply. “Harry is digging a grave outside. I reckon you should go once he finishes. He needs you too.”
How had everything gone so wrong? They had woken up yesterday, or today, he wasn’t sure, but their plan had been simple: to visit Xenophilius Lovegood to ask about the strange rune that kept popping up. It had been a simple plan; they had never expected to even be in danger. Everything they had learnt about the Deathly Hallows seemed a million years ago. Now Dobby… It had been his idea to call him. Ron remembered how happy he’d made Dobby when he gifted his Weasley jumper to him. His big tennis-ball eyes gleaming at him. Who more was he going to lose? Ron stayed by Hermione’s side slumped over her bed, and eventually fell asleep against her injured arm, holding her hand.