Two separate reductos had hit each of their back tires and there was nowhere for Harry to go. He tried to keep the car on the ground but it was futile. At the speed they had been going, the force of the blasts knocked them to the right and as soon as they hit the embankment the car went up and flipped twice before coming to a rest on the other side of the road.
Hermione came to with blood in her eyes and the acrid smell of petrol in the air. Harry was frantically calling her name but she couldn't tell where he was. Her head throbbed and when she tried to bring her arm up to touch it she hissed in pain and didn't move again.
She heard Harry again and then felt his hand on the side of her face. "`Mione! Wake up! Please!" he sounded desperate and when she blinked her eyes open he sagged in relief.
"We have to get out of here," he said carefully, making sure she understood. "The petrol's leaking. It's not safe." She tried to nod her head that she understood but regretted the choice as another flare of pain went through her and she thought it would be nice to just shut her eyes for a little bit.
"Mione!" Harry yelled again and she jolted awake and saw the blind panic in his eyes. "Just stay with me a little while longer, ok? Can you do that?" She didn't try and nod but she kept her eyes open.
"Good girl. Now I know you're hurt but I need you to try and open your door." She didn't like the sound of that. She could barely lift a hand and he wanted her to open a door, but the part of her brain that was still somewhat functioning told her she needed to listen and get out of the car.
Gritting her teeth she grabbed at the handle and felt it give but she could only push it a few inches before it was stopped by the hill they were up against. There was no way she could get out the door.
"Damn!" he cursed and then turned to his own door. He had to kick at it a few times before it finally opened.
The next thing she knew Harry was leaning in through the broken passenger window. He held her head in his hand and seemed to be examining her. Then he pressed a hard kiss to her forehead and apologized. "I'm so sorry, but this is going to hurt like hell."
Before she could comprehend what he meant he had slid both arms under hers from behind and was starting to pull her bodily through the window.
Stars flashed before her eyes and she may have yelled out, she wasn't sure since the shock was starting to set in. She could feel a cool sheen of sweat break out all over and she had the absent thought that she was about to pass out again.
As Harry pulled her backwards the glass that was still left in the window bit into any exposed skin and left jagged tears in her clothes.
Then suddenly she was out and he fell backwards with her landing on top of him. He was panting heavily but she couldn't move to get off of him.
His hands were on her face again, pushing her matted hair out of the way "We have to get further away." Harry tried to move Hermione so that he could get out from under her. He must have knocked something because she cried out in pain and sagged against him, nothing but black in front of her eyes save a few sparkling white dots.
"`Mione...baby please." He was almost sobbing now in desperation.
" `m sorry" she managed and shifted her weight as well she could to give him space to get up.
"It's ok. It's ok," he repeated, kneeling next to her.
Her teeth were starting to chatter now and it wasn't from being cold. Without warning he slid one arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back and then he was carrying her down the road away from the remains of their car.
She didn't think the pain could have gotten worse, but it did. She let her head fall to his shoulder and let the blackness claim her.
When she came to again they were in a grassy field. The first thing she saw was blue sky and clouds and realized she must be lying down.
She felt a moment of panic when she didn't see Harry and then turned her head to the right and saw him slumped against a tree, one arm cradled protectively over his middle, glasses broken, and various cuts and bruises, including one nasty looking gash on his left temple.
She sat up slowly and realized she was in a lot less pain than she had been the last time she had been conscious. Her arm was numb and her head ached, but she could move without much effort and didn't feel the need to vomit from her injuries.
She crawled to Harry's side and put a tentative hand on his knee. "Harry," she called softly. She called again and gave him a little shake, causing him to groan.
On the ground around him were several empty potion bottles as well as what remained of his kit. Their wands were there too.
It hit her all at once what he had done.
"You stupid, daft, idiot!" she whispered furiously, wiping angry tears away with the back of her hand. "Now where have you left us? Healing me and leaving nothing for yourself. It's a good thing you're unconscious right now or I'd knock you out myself!"
She dug through the kit hoping to find something she could use and found only two unused vials; one for snake bite, and one blood replenishing potion.
She felt a whine of panic begin in her head and the rush of blood to her ears made her temporarily deaf. And then she shook it off and pulled herself back together.
Picking up her wand with shaking hands she performed the same diagnostic spell she had seen Harry do the night before.
Concussion, two broken ribs, and there was something seriously wrong with his right shoulder.
She leaned in close and wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling his body forward until he slumped against her shoulder with a low moan. The black leather jacket had protected him from the crash somewhat, except there was long dagger of broken glass stuck in his shoulder from the back.
She had to swallow down the bile that threatened to rise and took a few deep breaths through her nose before she could look at it properly. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the area was wet with blood and it was obvious the wound had bled profusely at first.
Deciding she needed to get the glass out before she could do anything else she held tight to Harry's head where it pressed against her collarbone, wrapped her free hand in her scarf, took hold of the glass and pulled before she could think about what she was doing.
Harry stiffened in her arms and made a sound so unnatural and horrible she didn't think it could have come from a human.
She threw the glass as far as she could and let him tip sideways until he was resting on the ground. Quickly, she unwrapped the scarf from her neck, then struggled to get his arm out of the jacket without hurting him anymore than necessary.
He wasn't making any noise now and that scared her. She just worked faster.
With the jacket out of the way she could see where the dark blood stain had spread over his shirt. She gripped the two sides of the torn fabric where the glass had gone in and pulled, letting her finally get a look at the wound.
It was only about two inches wide, but it was deep and still seeping. She folded the scarf and pressed it over the area, pushing down as hard as she dared considering he also had broken ribs. She'd gladly kill for some Essence of Dittany.
With one hand on her makeshift bandage the other searched on the ground for the vials she had pulled out and found the blood replenishing potion. With a cry of triumph she grabbed it and the pulled the stopper out with her teeth before spitting it on the ground.
She dropped the scarf for a moment and then lifted Harry's head just enough so he wouldn't choke when she put the vial to his lips and poured a little at a time. She was glad to notice he seemed to be coherent enough to swallow.
When it was empty she laid him back down and started casting every healing spell she knew. Her knowledge was limited and she vowed when they got out of this that she would buy the first medical spell book she could get her hands on and learn it all.
The shoulder wound had stopped bleeding and was looking a bit better, although it was by no means healed. She ripped the scarf in half and used the relatively clean part as a sort of combination bandage and sling.
Once that was taken care of she moved on to his ribs. The healing charms took away some of the pain and stabilized the fractures so there was no risk of him puncturing a lung, but she hoped when he woke up he'd be able to do a better job than she had.
When Hermione got to his head she noted his breathing had become more even and his color had also improved. Taking the broken glasses from his face she sat them aside with a rueful shake of her head; she'd have to fix those. Again.
The gash on his temple had also stopped bleeding, but it was starting to bruise and she hoped it hadn't caused any sort of internal damage. She didn't think either of them was equipped to handle that.
She stroked a finger across a scrape high on his cheek and was overwhelmed with the memory of how he looked when Hagrid had carried him out of the forest, supposedly dead.
Her tears dropping onto his face were her first indication she was crying. With a gasp Hermione sat up and leaned back against the tree and then let her head fall forward to her bent knees while she let it all catch up with her.
When she was finished, she felt worse than ever. Her head was throbbing again and there was a deep ache in her arm. She hadn't even looked to see what was wrong. As soon as she did she wished she hadn't. The world swam for a minute and then she took a few deep breaths. Her sleeve had been ripped away and there was a long jagged cut that extended almost all the way from shoulder to elbow. He had clearly tried to heal her completely, but had only been able to seal the two sides, it still looked raw and angry and reminded her too much of the scar on her other arm. It also hurt terribly.
The small field they were in was far enough back from the road that no one driving by could see them. She knew their car had to have been noticed by now, and she hoped when Harry woke up he'd be able to make it another mile up the road to the next town. She remembered seeing a sign right before they were attacked.
She had no idea how Harry had gotten her here in his condition. Between his shoulders and his ribs there should have been no way for him to have carried her, but she knew adrenaline was an amazing thing and allowed people to do acts they normally wouldn't have been capable of.
She didn't know what they were going to do now. Their attacker appeared to have left them after the wreck, not bothering to see if they were dead or alive, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be back. They now had no car, and there was no way there were going to make Calais tonight.
Her head fell back and she let the tree support her. She only intended to rest her eyes for a moment before she tried to wake Harry, but her head was pounding and the light hurt. That was the last thing she remembered.
She was shivering when she woke up again. Dusk was approaching and a slight wind had come up. Her jacket and bag were still in the car.
She was still propped up against the tree; however, Harry was nowhere to be seen.
In a second she had scrambled to her feet. Other than her wand, there was nothing left from before. No vials, no kit, no Harry.
"Harry!" she screamed, his name was torn from her throat without thought. She stumbled in the direction of what she thought was the road, disbelief clouding her mind that he could have abandoned her.
And then he was there, right in front of her, still using her scarf as a sling with her duffel bag hanging off his good shoulder.
She dropped to her knees, her legs refusing to support her and he was kneeling right in front of her. "You left," she managed to eke out.
"I didn't leave," he said desperately. "I just went to get the bag from the car. That's all. I swear `Mione. I didn't leave. I won't leave."
"I woke up and you weren't here," she said, as if by saying it out loud she could somehow make sense of it. "You left."
"No." he said with more force and grabbed her chin with his thumb, making her look at him. "I didn't leave. I won't leave."
"You just went to get the bag?"
"That's it. You were still sleeping and I thought I could be back before you woke up. I'm so sorry I didn't wait." She could see the genuine contrition in his eyes.
"Ok," she said softly, trying to tramp down the feelings of betrayal and abandonment. And then she took in his still broken glasses and his injured arm and she remembered what he had done earlier.
She pushed herself to her feet and took a step backwards. "What the hell were you thinking! You used all the potions on me and left yourself dying from shock while I was unconscious! Have you lost all sense?"
He had the good grace to look sheepish and scrubbed a nervous hand over the back of his neck. "It wasn't my finest hour," he admitted. "I was so scared and worried about you. You don't understand `Mione. You were covered in blood and I couldn't get you to wake up." He paused for a moment to compose himself. "I didn't realize how bad off I was until it was too late. By then my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't hold my wand anymore and I couldn't get the potion open. I just had to hope you woke up in time to save my sorry arse."
"Well lucky for you I did!" she yelled back, still angry at him for what he had done. "And do you know what I woke up to? You, unconscious, with a great long piece of glass sticking out of your back, and broken ribs, and looking like your head had been bashed in by a bludger!" Her venting was cathartic.
"How are you feeling?" he asked hesitantly
"Like I went three rounds with Fluffy." She was glad to see him crack a small smile. "How about you?"
"Somewhere between knocked off my broom during a quidditch match and just defeated a Dark Lord."
"That sounds about right," she agreed, and then she was wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest with a shuddering sigh.
He clutched her to him and she felt him press a kiss into her hair. They stayed like that for a long moment.
When she stepped back she felt better, not physically, but emotionally.
"So what are we doing now?" she asked.
"Up for a walk? There's a town not too far. We'll have to stay for the night and then regroup."
"You think they're still here?"
"I don't think so. I think if they were we'd know by now, but I don't want to take a chance." He glanced around somewhat nervously and she knew he didn't like that it was starting to get dark.
"Well, let's get going then," she stated and tried to take the bag from him but he wouldn't let her.
He helped her get her jacket on. She whimpered as the fabric settled over her unhealed gash, but there was nothing she could do about it except try to move it as little as possible.
"Alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice and she gave him a tight nod.
And then she stopped him. "Wait," she said and pulled her wand out before pointing it at his face. "Oculus Reparo," she said simply, smiling tenderly at the memory.
"Thanks `Mione. Never did get around to learning that one," he said with a grin. But she knew he had to be lying. There was no way he had gone four years without breaking his glasses. A thought fluttered through her mind. `I wonder if he thought about me every time he used it.' and then she shook off the maudlin specter and they started up the path to the road.
They were slow going. Neither of them could walk very fast without jostling their respective injured arms, and with every step she took there was a pain in her left knee.
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it looked like there was a spreading stain on the lower leg of her jeans. She hadn't noticed anything before, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Determined not to delay them any further she tried to block it out and ignore it the best she could.
It was almost full dark when they made it to the outskirts of the town. She sighed with relief. Harry just pressed on, and when they passed under a street lamp she saw a sheen of sweat on his brow.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and her tone ensured she would not tolerate him lying.
"Arm." he gritted out. "I'll be ok. But it would be best if we find a place fast."
And then, as if someone had heard them, she saw a hanging sign four doors up announcing a Bed and Breakfast.
She cast two quick cleansing spells on them to get off the worst of the dirt and some of the blood, but there was nothing else she could do for their obviously haggard appearance.
There was no one at the counter and she was forced to ring a little bell at the desk and wait. Harry slid into a convenient chair and shut his eyes. His face looked green and his jaw was clenched.
Finally a small older woman approached and gasped when she saw them. In a string of rapid fire French the woman interrogated them. Harry just looked at her and gave a little shrug. He obviously was going to let her go with whatever cover story she wanted.
Her brain hurt and the effort it took to try and translate must have been evident because the owner quickly switched to English. Hermione explained that they had been in a car accident and that they required a room for the night. In the morning they would call the rental company and make arrangements to have the car towed.
The woman tut-tutted and tried to insist they go to nearest medical clinic, but Harry interrupted her. "My wife's a doctor. She'll look after us just fine," he assured her and Hermione felt her cheeks flush at his words.
He tried to reach into his back pocket to get his wallet but he couldn't reach it with his bad arm and her cheeks stayed red as she fished it out for him.
They paid for a room and breakfast the next morning and then Hermione asked if the woman had a first aid kit she could borrow.
They had to wait another excruciating five minutes before she came back with what looked like a surprisingly thorough kit.
The stairs were torture, especially her left leg, and now she thought she could feel blood running down it whenever it bent.
By the time the owner had finished turning down the bed, showing them the towels, and pointing out the excellent view of the garden, Hermione thought Harry was either going to pass out or throw up. She thanked the woman several times, reassured her that is was nothing a little washing up and aspirin couldn't fix and then she was ushering her out the door.
As soon as it was shut she locked it and put up her wards, taking a moment to feel them pulse slightly under her hand and know that they were out of danger for now.
Harry was swaying on his feet when she turned back and she grabbed him by the front of his jacket and helped him into a nearby chair.
There were complimentary muffins on a side table and she quickly shoved one in his hands. "Eat. Your blood sugar is crashing." She had recalled some odd comment by her father about some of his patients getting so worked up about going to the dentist they would be on adrenaline highs. Then by the time they were ready to leave they would practically pass out in the lobby. The stress combined with how little that had eaten today made for a dangerous mix.
Harry looked at her like she had grown another head but she just pointed at the muffin and then at him and he took an obedient bite.
While he was eating she put the first aid kit on the bed and opened it up. It looked like it had everything they needed in the short term besides sutures.
She kicked off her trainers and took off her jacket, biting her lip to keep from shouting out when she had to peel it off her arm. She couldn't keep from whimpering though and Harry shot her a look which she ignored.
She didn't want to look at her leg, but she knew she had to. Without a thought to modesty she undid her belt and let her jeans fall. It took some effort to get them off. She could see clearly now that it was in fact blood that had seeped through the bottom.
Her knee was a mangled mess. It must have been crushed against the door frame when the car rolled. There were bruises and scrapes and one area where it looked like it must have gotten caught on something because there was now a chunk of flesh missing.
"What the hell is that?" Harry said and lurched out of his chair towards her, forcing her back onto the bed.
He managed to kneel next to the bed and get a good look at it. "Gods `Mione. I'm sorry. I must have missed this."
"Forget it. You did the best you could," she assured him.
Hermione pushed him aside and limped her way into the bathroom to grab some flannels, wetting them with warm water. She risked a look in the mirror and at first thought she was looking at someone else.
Her hair was a complete disaster with matted blood, bits of glass, and even some foliage. There was gash along her hairline that was bruising rather spectacularly and she had a fat lip, not to mention various cuts and scrapes over the rest of her face. Her shirt was beyond ruined. The right sleeve was gone and the rest was a torn, dirty, bloody mess. With a sigh she pulled her left arm out of the remaining sleeve and then eased the rest over her head before balling it up and chucking it in the bin.
She walked back into the bedroom with two wet flannels and in nothing but her bra and knickers but she couldn't have cared less.
"Strip" she said to Harry, and enjoyed the slightly gobsmacked appearance on his face at what she was, or rather was not, wearing.
"I'm sorry?" he said in disbelief.
"Strip. It'll make it easier to find all our wounds and the quicker we get that sorted the quicker we can go to sleep." She was so tired now she could weep, and the king sized bed was taunting her.
The only way she was going to get through this was to act as no-nonsense `Hogwarts Hermione' as possible, even if inside she had a mass of butterflies.
Harry was slow to respond and then he slid his jacket off his bad shoulder and tried to get it off the other but he was having trouble. Taking pity on him she set the flannels down and helped him.
When it was apparent he wouldn't be able to undo the buttons on his shirt either she resigned herself to the task. Not meeting his eyes she swatted his hand away as he made a feeble attempt and made quick work of his shirt, trying not to stare at his chest as it was revealed.
She undid what was left of her scarf and sent it the way of her shirt. When she came back he was working on his belt buckle. "I've got this," he said tersely and she let him be.
While he was busy with his pants she opened the bottle of antiseptic and gathered some gauze squares. She quite purposely did not look down when she made her way over to him, just gave him a little push and forced him to sit on the bed.
"This is probably going to sting," she said in warning and began dabbing all the little cuts and scrapes on his face and neck, wincing with him. She used the flannel to wash away all the dried blood and grime and then made her way to his shoulder.
She picked the bottle up, and before he could ready himself she poured a long stream over the wound. He jumped and one hand came out as reflex and landed on her waist, his fingers curling into the soft skin of her hip.
She gasped at the contact, but he didn't move his hand. She gulped audibly and continued what she was doing. The butterfly bandages would have to do for keeping it shut. She taped a gauze square over it and then finally stepped back, forcing his hand to fall away.
He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Thanks Hermione," he said, voice rough.
There was a pregnant pause and then he reached his hand out. "Here. Your turn."
"It's ok. I can get it if you want to rest," she protested, but he merely took the items out of her hand and stood up, looming over her and invading her personal space.
"Sit," he commanded and she didn't really have a choice in the matter.
They didn't talk while he worked. She tried hard not to flinch but sometimes it couldn't be helped. She had a row of matching butterfly bandages on her arm, and when he got to her knee she couldn't help but moan and clutch handfuls of blankets to keep from jumping. She felt sick when he was done and she sat very, very, still, trying to control her breathing while he cleaned up their mess.
When she felt the bed dip beside her she looked over and saw him studying the map from the car.
His finger was tracing the road they had been on. "I don't think we can go to Calais," he said suddenly.
"Why?"
"Look." he said and then pointed to where he had just had his finger. "This road only goes toward Calais. Whoever was after us has to know that's where we were heading."
"May I?" she asked, and he handed her the map.
After a moment she handed it back. "We'll have to go through Brussels. The train goes from there into London and there's no reason for them to think we've turned back. If we leave in the morning we could be in London by the afternoon."
He looks at the map for a long moment and then nodded. "It'll work," he said and folded the map up.
She didn't realize it but she started to sway from exhaustion and he coaxed her up long enough to pull the covers all the way back and help her in before climbing in after her.
It took them both a few minutes to find positions that weren't painful. Hermione ended up with her back towards Harry and felt him hesitate before he lightly laid his hand over her hip. She was grateful for the contact.
She wanted to talk to him, but she was so exhausted that the most she can manage is a mumbled good night. She was asleep before she could hear if he answered her.