SALEM ᵈ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ

vii. The Splitting of Ways

SOLID ground touched my feet upon impact. Too tired to stand upright, I stumbled forwards and fell, lying face-down atop the dirt-covered leaves and cold earth.

I heaved in one large inhale through my nose, then another until my heart rate slowed and and even supply of air was back in my lungs. I could have stayed in that position longer, listening to the distant sounds of birds chirping and the rustling of tree leaves around me, but a strangled gasp sounded to my right.

Slowly, I lifted myself up and turned around to investigate where it had come from; nothing prepared me for what I saw.

Blood. Red and vivid, stood out against Ron's pale and freckled skin. It drenched his entire left side, staining darkly through his shirt. I held a hand to my mouth to stifle a yelp, my eyes unwavering despite it stinging from unshed tears.

Hermione was already kneeled beside him, her hands also stained with his blood as she quickly worked on the wound.

"Hermio. . ." my voice broke. "What happened—?"

A rustle of leaves beside me, and Harry too, was kneeling beside me as he surveyed Ron with a pale face.

"Splinched," Hermione said shakily. "Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled Essence of Dittany—"

"Bag—right—" he dashed off to get it.

"Margo, you have to help me. . ." she swallowed a sob, "help me stop the bleeding."

I didn't hesitate to place my hands on top of the piece of cloth she was using to apply pressure on his upper arm, though I doubt it was even a fraction of help compared to how big the wound actually was.

Don't think about it, I repeated to myself, for every time I studied the wound longer than a second, I could feel the contents of my stomach slowly rise up. It was probably one of the worst Splinched injuries I've ever seen; it was like Ron's entire arm had been mauled off.

"Quickly!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Accio Dittany!"

I tried not to think about whether it was a bad or good thing Ron wasn't making a sound. Harry finally appeared beside us, holding a small brown bottle in his shaking hands.

"He's fainted," Hermione said. Ah, that explains why. "Unstopper it for me, Harry, my hands are shaking."

It was an effort to block out the coppery smell of blood, especially when my nose suddenly started to run because of how hard I was tearing up.

Hermione took the bottle and poured three drops of the potion directly on his wound. As soon as the liquid made contact with skin, a greenish smoke billowed upwards and away, until finally the bleeding stopped, the skin was growing back, and Ron was no longer twitching.

I let out a relieved sound. 

"Wow," Harry said.

"It's all I feel safe doing," Hermione said shakily. "There are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage. . .he's lost so much blood already. . ."

I Scourgified my hands as well as Hermione's and everything we had touched. "You made the right move, Hermione. Thank Merlin he's okay," I said, brushing the hairs away from Ron's face.

"How did he get hurt? I mean—why are we here?" Harry asked her. "I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"

It was only then I fully realized my surroundings: a forest, with tall trees that had healthy, green leaves and sunlight flitting through the open crevices above the canopy.