One Lucky Winner

Chapter 69 ~ Hermione

Day 7
4:17 PM

"The bandages!" I yell unnecessarily. I watch the bandages burn, the only hope for this deep cut on my arm healing.

Iron Man flies up in the air. He has something of our's in his hand, along with that strange shield Harry had. We watch him fly away. He's swerving, as if he's having trouble flying.

"What'd he take?" I ask Harry.

Harry bends down by the bag Iron Man took stuff out of and looks through it. "Two handguns. We didn't even know how to use them anyways."

"I knew. I-"

"Read about them? I know," Harry says. I look down.

Harry zips up his bag and walks toward me. He looks at the bandages, or at least what used to be the bandages. They're just a roll of black ashes now, still on fire.

"There goes those," I say sadly. "And my coat." My coat is also amongst the bandages, all black and burnt up. I still have my jacket and the hat, but still. I'm still recovering from having to go in the water last night; I've been shivering all day.

Harry looks at me. "You can have mine."

I look at him. "Have your what?"

"My coat. Here." He starts to take it off.

"No, Harry, it's fine," I protest. Even though I'm freezing, I'd feel bad if Harry had to give up his winter wear just for me.

"It's not, though. You're bleeding." He nods to my cut on my arm, which is indeed bleeding badly. It's bleeding through the jacket.

"A coat won't stop the bleeding."

"Yeah, but it'll slow it."

"I don't want to ruin your coat. Isn't there anything else in the bags that we could improvise as bandages?"

Harry sits down on the ground and unzips his bag. I sit next to him. He rummages around in the bag.

"I don't see anything..." he says, his voice muffled because his head is practically in the bag.

He zips it up. "Nothing in there..." He looks over to where my bag, my blanket, and the box of food is.

"What about your blanket?" he says.

I stare at him for a while to see if he's kidding, but he doesn't appear to be. "It's King size," I tell him. "Imagine a king size blanket wrapped around an arm. I won't be able to move."

"We can cut it into strips."

I look down at my lap. "I don't really want to..."

Harry sighs. "Why?"

"I don't know..." I mumble, but I know why. That blanket is a token of Newt and I. My heart physically hurts whenever I think of him. I've never felt worse about someone in my life. He deserved the opposite of what I gave him. He was one of the best people I've ever met and I destroyed him.

"Tell me the truth," Harry says, snapping me back to reality.

"That is the truth."

"You're an awful liar," he says. "If you 'don't know' than we can cut it."

"No."