A/N- bit of a gorier version of Ron's splinching in Deathly Hallows. I always thought it was strange that Hermione didn't feel any guilt about the accident so I've added that in. I don't know anything about medical procedures or how this would actually work lol. Cover art is by me.

Harry slammed into the ground and all the wind was knocked out of him. He gasped and rolled over, slightly discombobulated, trying to figure out where he was.

He and the others had found themselves quite alone, in an unfamiliar forest. Autumn light dappled through the leaves overhead and the ground was soft and dry.

He heard a low groan from Ron a few feet away and scrambled to his feet. He took two steps towards Ron and Hermione, and he felt his stomach drop out.

Ron was lying on the leaf strewn earth, Hermione on her knees at his head, and blood soaked his entire left side. Ron was shaking and whimpering in pain, Hermione murmuring panicked words of comfort to him. His face was chalk white and his extremities were jerking- Harry was reminded horribly of the time Ron had been poisoned. He couldn't see the extent of Ron's injuries as Hermione was blocking his view of them, but considering the steadily growing pool of blood that Ron was lying in, it was serious.

"What's happened to him?"

"Splinched," Hermione told him. Then she moved slightly, and Harry saw what had happened. His blood went cold.

Ron's whole left arm was missing.

Everything from the shoulder socket was gone. Momentarily, he had a grotesque vision of Ron's left arm back at the ministry, still twitching.

"Oh my god," was all he could muster.

Hermione seemed to be in shock- her movements were mechanical and without remorse as she removed her cloak, bundled it into a ball and pressed it to the gaping, blood-spurting hole in Ron's shoulder. He roared in pain and anguish. "I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, using her other hand to hold Ron's right shoulder down. He bucked weakly, screaming in agony.

"Hermione, you're hurting him!" Harry shouted, panic stricken.

"We've got to stop the flow of blood!" Hermione yelled back. "Get the Dittany out of my bag, Harry, quick!"

Harry hastened to obey, summoning the bag from where Hermione had fallen, and pointing his wand into it.

"Accio Dittany!"

The little bottle came souring out and Harry grabbed it, wrenching off the stopper and holding it out to Hermione.

She took it from him and removed the robes  now sodden with Ron's blood, then carefully dripped the potion over his wound. Greenish smoke billowed upwards and Harry and Hermione leaned back to avoid breathing it in. When it cleared, the wound was no longer bleeding, and looked partially healed. New skin and pearly scar tissue stretched across what had moments before been a horrific gaping hole. Ron now lay motionless, his eyes rolled back into his head.

"He's unconscious," Hermione said, sounding relieved.

"I'm surprised he stayed awake for so long," Harry admitted. He was trembling a little, the adrenaline wearing off and the dread sinking in. What a situation to have gotten themselves into. How on earth were they going to get through this?

"What now?" He asked, trying not to look at the horribly wrong vision of Ron's upper body.

"We need to keep him warm," Hermione said. "Let's put up the the tent."

"The tent?" Harry repeated, looking at her quizzically.

"I told you, I've had everything packed for weeks. Perkins lent Mr. Weasley his old tent, and Mr. Weasley said I could take it. It's in the bag. Get it out, would you Harry, while I clean Ron up?"

Glad of a reason not to look at how deathly pale Ron was, Harry turned back to the bag and fished out the tent. He pointed his wand at it.

"Erecto!"

It flew into shape at once, tent pegs and guide ropes sinking into the soft woodland floor.

Turning around he saw Hermione siphoning the worst of the blood off Ron's chest and from the floor around him. He looked still paler without it. Then she wrapped him tightly in Harry's cloak which he had discarded.

They carried Ron into the tent between them, careful not to jostle his wound too much, and laid him gently on one of the lower bunks. When they were all inside, Harry lit the oil lamps and put the kettle to boil. Luckily there were still some dusty mugs and tea bags left in Perkins' cupboard.

Hermione darted out of the tent after making sure every blanket they had brought, or had been left in the tent, was wrapped tightly around Ron, calling to Harry that she was going to put some protective charms around them. Harry rummaged in the small beaded bag and found the dented tin first aid kit that he had found in a cupboard in Sirius' room back in Grimmauld Place. He prized the rusty lid off and was grateful to find a roll of bandages and some medical gauze which all looked relatively usable.

Gently, he lifted Ron into a semi-sitting position and tucked pillows under his back. His head rolled back unpleasantly. Harry gritted his teeth and peeled the remainder of Ron's torn and blood stained shirt away from his skin, which he realised with a jolt was warm with fever. He pressed the gauze to Ron's shoulder and unrolled the bandages, then did his best and wrapping them over the wound and around his chest. All through this process Ron still didn't stir, and the worry in the pit of Harry's stomach grew.
Reaching into the bag once more, he pulled out a clean shirt and dragged it over Ron's head, trying to manoeuvre his right arm through the sleeve without jostling him too much, then sat back and looked at his handiwork.

He stood and crossed to the sink as Hermione emerged through the tent flap and wetted a cloth with cold water.
Five minutes later and they were sat huddled in chairs around Ron's still unmoving form on the lower bunk, clutching mugs of tea, the cool damp cloth on Ron's feverish forehead.

"So... what happened, Hermione?" Harry finally felt things had calmed down enough to ask this question.

Hermione let out a stifled sob and shook her head slightly.

"When we disapparated from the Ministry, Yaxley caught hold of me, and I couldn't shake him off! We were already on route to Grimmauld Place, and I think-" she sniffed. "I think when we arrived, he saw the door. He thought we were stopping so he slackened his grip, and I managed to shake him off. I changed course and brought us here, but I splinched Ron!"

"Hang on," Harry said sharply, dreading the answer. "He can't get inside Grimmauld Place, can he Hermione? What about the Fidalous Charm?"

"I think... after Dumbledore died, everyone who knew the address became secret keeper, and by showing him the door, I've taken him inside the Charm's protection!" Hermione cried, tears welling in her eyes. "And as I changed course, I obviously wasn't paying enough attention to the apparition because of Yaxley... and I splinched Ron!"

"Hermione, it's not your fault, you saved our skins!" Harry said fervently. "You couldn't have known... I mean, it wasn't your fault, what happened."

"It was though," Hermione whispered shakily. "Even if it was an accident... I still... I've crippled him, Harry!"

Harry took a deep breath. He hated to admit it, and he knew Ron wouldn't blame her in the slightest, but she was right.

"How are we going to help him through this, Hermione?" Harry said quietly. "Nothing's going to be the same. He's going to need... he won't be able to do as many things."

"We can't do anything about that until he wakes up," Hermione said despondently.

Harry nodded. He stared at Ron's face, which was still chalk white. "Hermione, I'm really worried about the amount of blood he's lost."

"Me too," Hermione conceded, wiping her eyes. "I think I could have a shot at making a blood replenishing potion, but not without the proper ingredients and a cauldron."

Suddenly, Ron stirred feebly, and both their heads snapped towards him. Ron groaned and opened his eyes.

"Oh, thank god." Harry wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and grinned shakily down at Ron. "Hey, mate."

"How are you feeling?" Hermione whispered.

Ron didn't answer at first. He blinked dazedly at them for a moment, then moaned with pain. The blood stained fingers of Ron's right hand groped for his left arm. His eyes widened in shock and panic when they brushed against nothing. 

"Ron, be careful, try not to move-" Hermione began, sounding scared.

"It's gone," Ron whispered hoarsely. "My arm. It's gone." His blinked rapidly and turned his gaze, fever bright, to them. "What happened?"

"You... you were splinched, Ron." Harry said, placing a comforting hand on Ron's leg.

"What- so- like, that's it?" Ron asked, horrified. "That's it? It's just gone and I'm never going to have an arm again?"

Hermione looked at Harry, biting her lip.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Ron's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh." Was all he could say.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other worriedly again. Neither of them had seen Ron cry before, and neither were prepared for it.

"I'm sorry," Ron muttered, before gasping for air as a sob built in his chest and crashed over him, his breathing quick and panicky.

"Hey, buddy, it's okay. Let it out," Harry said nervously. Hermione's eyes were also swimming with tears, and she didn't say anything- perhaps worried that her voice would betray her, or that she would simply start sobbing alongside Ron, which would have been entirely unhelpful.

Tears fell down Ron's cheeks as he shook with cries, and all Harry and Hermione could do was stay with him through his grief. Harry grasped his right hand and gently rubbed small circled on his back, speaking comforting words in a hushed voice to him.
Hermione felt a little out of place in the boys intimacy. Their friendship worked different from hers.
Her stomach was twisting with hot snakes of guilt and her hands were still shaking, still stained red with Ron's blood.

~

Weeks passed, and slowly Ron regained enough strength to sit, then stand up, independently, although he still needed to lean on someone's arm for support when walking. This person tended to usually be Harry, as the boys were more comfortable with physical contact than Hermione was. Today, however, Harry was out gathering berries and edible leaves, so the job fell to Hermione to gently support Ron as he shakily took his steps around the tent. While they were also trying to build up his strength from the blood loss he had suffered, their main concern was his balance. He was finding it very difficult to adjust to being so one-sided.

The pair of them slumped onto the lower bunk after a few minutes of slow walking, both tired, but Ron gasping for breath and sweating. He smiled at Hermione and pushed his damp hair out of his eyes. His mood had been fluctuating a lot since the accident; some days he was overcome with such grief and depression that he didn't speak or eat for hours on end, just lay listlessly on the bed. Others he put on a brave face and tried his best to focus on recovery. Today was one of those days, for which Hermione was very grateful. Harry was far better at comforting a crying Ron that she was.

"That wasn't so bad," Ron said, when he had caught his breath. "I can definitely feel myself getting stronger, Hermione."

She smiled weakly at him.

"I hope it will be enough," she said. "I really do think we should sneak into Diagon Ally and see if we can get our hands on some blood replenishing and muscle rebuilding potion ingredients."

Ron rolled his eyes at her. This argument has been going on for weeks.

"Hermione, I thought we already decided it's too risky! Look, I'm making great progress without the potions. We don't need to put ourselves in danger like that. It's not worth it."

Ron's words shocked her slightly.

"Not worth it?" She repeated quietly.

"Oh- you know what I mean," Ron said hurriedly. He hugged the stump of his left shoulder tightly with his right arm. "Just that it'd be a fine lookout if we got ourselves caught in old Slug and Jigglers Apothecary, would it?"

"Hmm," said Hermione uncertainly.

"Anyway, I'll be right as rain soon enough- aarghhh—" Ron suddenly winced and rubbed the stump.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked at once, panicked stricken.

"Nothing, nothing... just phantom pain." Ron's face was set and he massaged the stump fiercely, trying to relieve the ache in his non existent arm. He fell back and lay down on the bed with a long exhale.

Suddenly it hit Hermione that this was something that was going to effect Ron for the rest of his life. Even if he one day got a prosthetic, he would still be disabled forever, still have phantom pain. Because of her. The knowledge and guilt of this washed over her.

Hermione pressed her trembling fingers to her mouth and tears slid down her face.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You could have died. It's all my fault."

"What?"

Ron raised himself up with a low grunt of pain so as to look at Hermione better.

"Don't be stupid, Hermione. You got us out of there, you were incredible! And you patched me up okay, didn't you? I'll be fighting fit in no time, right?"

He held her gaze, seeing the guilty, scared look in her eyes.

"Come on Hermione. I'm okay, really. Or at least-" he winced slightly as he shifted his position on the bed. "I will be. We Weasleys are made of hardy stuff, don't you worry. We've got to be, when we're mates with heroic gits like this guy, always trying to save the world."

He jabbed a thumb at Harry, who had just pushed his way through the entrance of the tent.

"Hey!" He said indignantly, putting down the bowl of blackberries and wild kale he had scavenged, and putting his hands on his hips, annoyed. It was such a quintessentially Harry stance that Hermione couldn't help but let out a shaky laugh.

"Hey." Ron reached out with his right hand and patted her on the knee. "I'm alright."

"But you nearly weren't," Hermione whispered. "You were unconscious for a long time. You lost so much of blood, Ron. It's still effecting you. It probably will for a long time. And... and I know you don't like to talk about it. But the hard days? The days where you don't eat, or speak?" Her voice was rising uncontrollably, her throat tight and her words shrill. Ron looked a little frightened. "That's because of me, because of what I did to you!" She couldn't help it, she burst into tears.

"Hermione!" Ron hastened to sit up and hug her with his one arm, holding her close to his side. "Hermione, you've got to stop this! You can't keep feeling guilty forever. It wasn't your fault. It was Yaxley's, if anyone's. You saved me! You saved all of us! And..." he swallowed, and looked at Harry, who had come quickly to Hermione's other side and was patting her shoulder awkwardly, "and the hard days will get less frequent, I think. I can't help it. I can't choose to not feel like that. Sometimes it just... hits me hard, and it's all I can think about. It gets to me, sure, but never for a second have I blamed you! I owe you my life, Hermione. I would have bled out on that bloody forest floor if it hadn't been for you!"

"Hey!" Harry said again, trying to lighten the mood. "I would've saved you!"

"See Hermione?" Ron said into her ear, grinning. "You saved me from Harry's medical attempts. You probably saved me more than we'll ever know."

Harry laughed and punched Ron lightly on the leg. Ron pulled a face at Harry. Hermione chuckled wetly and sniffed herself back to steady breathing.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said gently.

She nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," she said quietly. "Sorry, Ron. This is the last thing you need on top of everything."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Ron said, giving her a squeeze and then releasing her. He fell back onto the bed, sighing.

"Erm, wanna see what I got from the woods?" Harry said, trying to defuse the tension.

"Yeah, go on," Hermione said, standing up.

While Harry and Hermione busied themselves in the kitchen, Ron rolled onto his side and looked at them, a small smile playing on his lips.

With two friends who cared about him this much, things were going to be okay.