I stood, dazed with pain, and watched as Neville and Ron brawled.
Ron would have the upper hand one moment, and then Neville the next.
Wincing, I watch as Ron is flipped- literally flipped- into air, then forced onto his back, pinned down by Neville. My dad used to like these things called wrestling matches on television, and this looks just like one of them.
Ron punches Neville, and he leaves. I weakly cheer; my whole body feels like it's being stabbed by a hot poker.
Ron grins, and then sees me. His grin fades when I wobble on my feet. What happened to me?
He rushes over and snakes his arms around my waist, stabling me both physically and mentally.
"You did well out there, Ron," I say quietly. I don't have the strength nor the will to speak louder.
"I know. But what do you think you're doing? You're clearly injured, and oh no, oh my God-" he breaks off and pales.
"What?" I look down, where the side of my shirt has been slashed for easy access to my wound. My side. Oh my God, my side.
The wound itself was about the diameter of a quarter. It was deep. Almost to the bone. It was still slowly oozing blood. That wasn't what bothered me, however. It was the skin surrounding it in another perfect circle. It was a sickly green color, and raised. And the skin around that was raised as well but a deep red. Blood red.
"Ron," I whisper, the strength leaving me entirely.
"It's okay, Hermione." He says in a voice he's fighting to keep steady. "Here comes Madam Pomfrey now."
Sure enough, through my closing eyelids, I saw Madam Pomfrey walk toward me. That was the last thing I saw before unconsciousness pulled me under.
How is this so far? What happened to Hermione? Will she recover? Who did kill Draco? Comment 😄 More chapters coming soon!
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