SALEM ᵈ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ

viii. The Christmas Miracle

IT was the first time in months where I didn't want to get out of bed.

The pillow beneath my head was soft and comfy enough that I didn't wake with a stiff neck. The sheets weren't scratchy, nor did they smell of the outside but rather of something flowery and clean. It was the very reason why I realized that something was seriously out of place.

Forcing myself to peel my eyes open, I blinked a few times before fixing my gaze on a cream-colored ceiling with an iron chandelier right overhead. Definitely not the tent that I usually woke up to every morning.

I shifted in place, making a move to sit up but groaned as soon as I moved my leg. Pain shot up from my toes till my calf, leaving my vision ridden with stars and black spots for a few seconds.

A hand grasped mine. "Hey, easy now."

My heart skipped a beat as I whirled around to find the source. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was only Ron, dark circled evident under his eyes.

"What. . ." my voice was hoarse and my cracked lips almost made it impossible for me to move my mouth. "Where are we. . .?"

"Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur's new place."

"Bill and Fleur. . .?" The words died on my throat as the memories of last night came crashing down on me: the shouting, the rain, the crying, the pain. . .

I peeled the covers off, finding my right leg bandaged firmly, little spots of blood seeping through the white cloth.

"Here." He handed me a tall glass of water, along with the pain-relief potion I carried in my bag.

"What happened?" I managed to say after five big gulps of water, still staring at my leg.

Ron removed his hand from mine and sighed. "You. . .you got Splinched." Cold tingles ran down my spine. "I didn't realize that you held onto me until the last minute, and. . .I panicked. This was the first place I thought of Apparating to.

"I regretted leaving as soon as we came here," Ron continued when I didn't say anything. I looked away from my leg to his face, seeing that he was trying his best to stay calm but the anguish could be seen as clear as day. "How I acted in that tent was bloody stupid. . .I was bloody stupid. I swear, I never meant those things I said, Mar. . ."

"I know," I said quietly, "I know."

He sighed again. "I'm really sorry about your leg—"

"Come off it, it's not your fault, Ron."

"It is," he moaned miserably, falling on the bed beside me. "I was a selfish prat. A downright nightmare."

I suppressed a snort. "You were kind of a total dick throughout the whole trip."

He fell silent, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated what happened last night, or what's been happening ever since we started this bloody mission.

"Hey," I said softly, "I'm sure they're going to understand. We've been — how do you say this? — rough. . .on each other. But I have a feeling if we didn't have that locket with us, we wouldn't have fought like that." Even as I said it, a small sliver of doubt crawled into my heart.

Would Harry and Hermione really understand? What did they think of me, leaving with Ron like this. Did they think we abandoned them? People always said that words thrown in anger usually weren't true. There were others who said the opposite, so what is it really?

I swallowed thickly and forced a smile on my face. Don't think like that. Harry and Ron fought plenty of times, and they always found their way back to each other in the end.