Pain. She’s in pain. Blaise thought frantically as he scrambled away from her, intent on finding a pain potion. Halfway out of the room, he froze, her instructions coming back to him all at once. Portkey. Fiendfyre. Ron. He needed to get her to Ron. Ron would get Harry and the Golden Boys would surely know what to do. Blaise twisted back towards Hermione, patting down his pockets to ensure the shrunken bags he had placed in them two hours ago were still there. Hermione was still screaming, the sound grating down Blaise’s spine. Wincing, not knowing if he was about to do more damage, Blaise stupified her as gently as he could, her screams cut off immediately. As gingerly as possible, Blaise lifted her, bridal style, ensuring one of her battered hands was easily accessible. Summoning the portkey from his pocket, Blaise settled the handkerchief on her stomach, revealing the gobstone inside. Shifting as much as he dared, and backing away from the fireplace quickly, Blaise grabbed one of Hermione’s hands in one of his, hovering them over the portkey as he pointed his wand at the vial on the fireplace, the deep red fiendfyre undulating inside.