Chapter Text
It smelled like rubbing alcohol. The same kind that Hermione’s mom used when she was little to clean her scrapes. The same kind that Hermione now used on Rose when she fell off her child-size broomstick. She hated that stupid broomstick. It was too dangerous for a three-year-old. But Ron had pleaded and she never could resist his puppy-dog eyes for long.
“We’re losing him! Someone get Nott, quick!”
Why was everything so fuzzy? Hermione’s vision began to blur on the edges. She tried to focus on the red-headed figure obscured beneath a mountain of Healers but it was too difficult.
He was supposed to be safe. Four years ago, when Hermione found out she was first pregnant with Rose, she and Ron had decided it was time for him to quit the Aurors program. It was too dangerous a job for a father with a new baby on the way. Hermione didn’t want to have to worry about raising their child alone.
He announced he would be joining George in the joke shop the same weekend they had announced their pregnancy. Hermione knew he was secretly pleased to leave the Aurors. He had hardly sunk two years into the department before he had realized he was done with trying to save the world from dark wizards. He was much more content with spending his days tinkering with ways to make people smile. He was too light a spirit to be bogged down by severity. Ron was — is always quick to disperse the tension. It was one of the reasons he and Hermione worked so well together. She was so serious, so purpose-driven, that she often forgot to take a deep breath and enjoy life.
That’s how the accident happened. Or at least that’s what George had said when he frantically floo-ed Hermione’s office an hour ago. It was hard to make out exactly what he was saying. George did not handle emergencies well anymore. Ever since Fred’s death, even the slightest drop of blood made him queasy. But he had called in a panic, saying that the new project Ron was working on — something he’s been rather smug about for the past few months and she had a sneaking suspicion had been for her, exploded. Ron was blown right out of the workshop in the back and ended up lying in the middle of the shop, pouring blood and run through with bits of wood and pipings.
“I’m here!” Theodore Nott ran into the room, the tail of his clean white Healers robe chasing behind him. His wand was already weaving in intricate loops as he cast various diagnostic charms.
Theo was here, everything would be fine now. Hermione felt her shoulders loosen. Theo fixed things. Theo always fixed things. For almost a decade now, Theo had been Hermione’s closest friend, other than her husband. It started in eighth year. There had been only five of her former classmates who returned to finish Hogwarts: Hermione, Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, and Draco Malfoy. Hermione had grown incredibly close to Theo and Luna. Theo often jokingly called them the Silver Trio. Hermione and Luna eventually went on to form their own magical not-for-profit lawfirm, it’s mission was to serve and protect underrepresented magical beings and creatures. Theo, who had gone on to be one of St. Mungo’s top healers, worked part time for the firm as their medical expert. When Hermione needed someone to prove that werewolves were not genetically — a concept the magical community had a huge difficulty with as it is —different than wizards when it wasn’t a full moon, Theo whipped together a bunch of medical jargin until the Wizengamot was appeased. When Rose was up all night because she was teething, Theo showed up at 3am with a potion that magically put her to sleep almost immediately.
Theo was Hermione’s fix it man. And right now she need him to fix Ron.
She watched quietly from the side of the room, everyone too busy to tell her to leave, though some part of her sluggish brain recognized that it was totally insane that she was watching them try to physically piece together her blown apart husband. Hermione saw the moment the diagnostic floating over the bed went from yellow to red.
“Again!” Theo shouted. The Healers all pointed their wands at Ron’s chest and purple beams of light collided with his body, lifting him off the bed like a rag doll.
The diagnostic shuddered overhead.
“Come on, Ron!” He cried, this time using his own wand to shoot a spell at the gaping hole where Ron’s heart weakly beat.
The diagnostic flickered out.
What were they going to try next?
Hermione hadn’t lost hope yet. This was Theo. This was Ron. Theo never failed her and Ron…Ron would never leave her.
Theo shoulder’s slumped, he lowered his wand uselessly by his side. He looked over his shoulder, his green eyes glossy as he looked at her and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
No no no no. Hermione fell to her knees as a scream tore through the air. The fuzzy corners of her vision tunneling in on her. All she heard was screaming. Her ears were ringing. Arms surrounded her and crushed her body into a firm chest. She felt a hand stroking her hair. The screaming didn’t stop. She hadn’t heard a sound so wretched since Bellatrix tortured her in Malfoy Manor. It was with that thought that she knew the screams were coming from her. Her mouth snapped shut at the realization.
Theo was holding her together, whispering in her ear. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, love.” Those were the last words she heard as she tumbled head-first into darkness.