#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
The bottle sails into his hand as the spell has yet to fail in many years. Hermione, catching such movement even in her occupation of removing Ron's shirt, is then to command, "Unstopper it."
As if losing her temper, Hermione rips away the stolen shirt of Ron, revealing puddled blood across his chest and the cloth itself. And though it is gorey to the eye and nearly hidden by the liters of lost fluids, Harry looks to the nasty splinch wound of his good friend, carved into his skin like ice cream scooped from the carton.
"Hermione. His arm --" Harry mutters, just now coming to realize why Hermione is so panicked and bossy.
"Just do it!" she shouts, grabbing the bottle from Harry's hand at his offer. Hermione sprinkles a matter of three dots onto the nasty wound, setting off green smoke as the Dittany begins the magical work of healing. Harry, though expecting such from Hermione, is thankful for her preparation.
"What happened? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place," Harry says, not knowing if his vision of said household was just a dream or a vision of Voldemort's. Through the previous year, Harry had come to struggle with the fast-paced action of his life, unable to move from reality to unconscious visions without some reassurance of his state of mind.
"We were. We were there. But Yaxley had hold of me. I knew we couldn't stay once he'd seen, so when he let go I brought us here. Ron got Splinched," Hermione sputters, revealing the depth of her apologetic and guilt-ridden emotions. "I'm... sorry."
"Don't be stupid," Harry responds, knowing that the three of them would be in a far worse situation had Hermione not done what she did.
In front of them, the previously billowing green smoke shifts away to reveal the unbloodied, yet severe splinch wound to Ron's arm. Hermione nods her head at the potion, looking to Harry as she remarks that "It's all I feel safe doing."
The heroine stands to her feet, breath calming as she overcomes the life-threatening situation with some form of success. Her eyes closed and feet turned from the two friends, Hermione breathes in with the intention of her spellwork. And yet, the thought claws at her mind, a remembrance of her conversation with Dumbledore before his death, many months prior.
He'd said that Hermione would know of the 'right time' to complete her task, in which she'd feel it was the only way for Harry to be successful. Now that she's almost killed Ron and the fact that they only possess one horcrux, Hermione feels the weight of her task pressed firmly onto her shoulders, hands falling to her sides. She must win them more time...find a weakness of the Dark Lord to exploit and discover some insight on the horcrux locations. Hermione makes her decision.
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At peace with the task, Hermione whips around to an awaiting Harry, his eyes reflecting concern for both her and Ron. And though, at the expression, she wishes to stay forever with her friends, Hermione can only think of how she may save them through her actions. So, steeling herself and straightening her spine, her eyes meet Harry's with a stubborn conviction he knows well.
