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Summary
When their eyes meet, there is a brief moment of oppressive silence, as if they are under pressure. Hermione isn't sure if he's looking directly into her eyes since her vision tragically fails her at the most critical moment. She lowers her gaze to his shoulder, to the ripped fabric of his shirt, splattered with blood and something else...
Something inside Hermione starts to crumble, whether it's a corset made of ribs or a dried-up heart drained of blood, she's not sure.
She pays little attention to the blood on his shoulder, casting a foggy glance at the elongated head of the tattooed dragon.