Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

"How to Save a Life" The Fray

**

Hermione Granger really wished that she could stand on solid ground.

That's what she had felt like during the past three months. It was as though no matter how hard she tried, she would forever be slipping and sliding, struggling to gain control of herself. She would sustain a semblance of order for a few hours or even a day or two but then someone would say his name or their eyes would accidentally cross paths and with a blink of the eye, she was skidding out of control again. No matter what she did, Ron would always cause her to flounder and fall. And yet at the same time, he was the only one who could catch her.

But as that wasn't option, Hermione just had to find another way to gain control. Ignoring him didn't work. Yelling at him didn't work. Crying about him didn't work. Making him jealous didn't work. Nothing worked. Except...except perhaps the one option she hadn't tried: being his friend again.

Although she had decided to break her promise to Ginny and give up on a romantic relationship with Ron, that didn't mean they couldn't go back to being friends. Granted, Hermione knew she would be taking two rather large, horrible risks: he could hurt her again and she could fall for him again. The latter was definitely a very plausible risk as she had yet to get over him, but Hermione couldn't stop the thought from niggling into her mind. It would burrow into thoughts at the most inopportune times and unfortunately make her lose all concentration. It was a good idea; she knew it was, even with all of the risks and possible consequences. Having small, platonic doses of Ron might be just what she needed to fill the gaping hole Ron left in her life.

It didn't help that of course this was the time that Ron started to be wonderful around her again. He no longer ignored her and avoided her at all costs; now he would purposefully try to catch her eye or include her in conversations. Hermione, stubborn to a fault, would always look away and walk away but something in the deepest recesses of her heart told her not to run away. That although he had hurt her, although he was acting horribly immature, although he was almost like a different person now, something deep inside of Ron hadn't changed and it was that secret, intimate part of Ron that was actively seeking her out. The Ron she loved so dearly was still there; she would just have to fight to find him.

He really was trying. The day after their massive row, he had deliberately left the Great Hall without Harry so he could wait for her outside her Ancient Runes classroom. He hadn't tried to apologize or make excuses or anything; all he had done was asked if she was alright. Still in a foul mood, she had replied with a blunt no and brushed past him. He made no effort to follow. However, Hermione had turned back of her own accord as a thought struck her. But before she could open her mouth, Ron was for once one step ahead of her.

"I won't tell Harry," he had promised sincerely.

She had retreated into Ancient Runes immediately, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding for the first twenty minutes of class. How was it possible that this boy knew her so well? He knew that she wouldn't want Harry to hear about this: Harry had enough to worry about and although she would be perfectly fine, if he heard about her breakdown last night, he would worry. That was just the way Harry was. So one of the first things she had thought of this morning was that she hoped that Ron and Ginny would have the good sense to keep quiet about this and of course Ron had known that too. It was almost uncanny how he could anticipate what she was going to do or say. Was he that way with Lavender? Was he just a naturally intuitive person? Or was he that one person who could see her deepest, truest self? And if he was, how was she supposed to walk away from him?

The small, possibly insignificant moments continued over the next week. He deftly caught two books that slid out of her grasp while leaving a classroom and steadied the unwieldy pile in her arms before continuing on his way. In fact, if they technically had been speaking, Hermione thought he even would have gone as far as offer to carry her books for her. He jumped in with his prefect's duties so she was no longer the only person lecturing students about appropriate behavior in the common room--that was the one area that Demelza and Colin were rather lax in and the seventh-year prefects didn't care anymore. Ron even had coolly and "accidentally" stretched his long leg and kicked Pansy's desk in a prefect meeting after the Slytherin had made a snide comment about Hermione's hair. It was petty, she knew, but the shriek Pansy had let out when her ink bottle had upturned onto her skirt had been priceless. Hermione had actually giggled before catching herself and staring down at her lap to consider what had just happened. Ron was looking out for her again. Whenever Ron stood up for her, it always made her feel completely safe. She felt that way around Harry, but that was because he was Harry Potter, the Chosen One. Ron's presence alone however was enough to make her feel as though no harm could ever come to her. Whether she stubbed her toe or had a Killing Curse fired at her, he would be there to help in any way he could. It was a remarkably glorious feeling, especially in a time of war, and Hermione couldn't deny that he was the only one who could make her feel that way. She needed him, there was no doubt about it. She just had to find a way to keep him in her life without losing her sanity again.

So Hermione wrestled with the issue, spending hours debating about whether or not to attempt a friendship with Ron, but when the next Thursday came around, Hermione hadn't reached an answer yet. She had rather hoped she would have so when she and Ron had to patrol together again, she could talk to him privately. Instead, the pair of them walked around the castle in silence, each of them lost in their own private troubles until Ron, with an odd look on his face, stopped abruptly in front of an unlocked classroom.

"What?" Hermione asked instantly, hand going for her wand.

Ron waved for her to put the wand away. "Just hang on." He went inside with his wand in hand. Hermione only had to wait two of the longest seconds of her life before his voice floated out to her again. "Come look at this."

Without thinking, Hermione walked into the classroom and squinted so she could discern the shapes in the darkness. She was so intent in searching for what Ron wanted her to look at that when the door slammed shut behind her, she jumped a mile out of her skin. But as she wheeled around in a panic, there was only Ron standing in front of the door. She was so relieved that it took several seconds for her to realize that she had a wand aimed straight at her chest. "Ron!" she protested furiously. "What are you doing?"

She went for her wand automatically, but Ron just twitched his warningly. After partnering him in D.A., Hermione knew how good of a dueler Ron had become so she obediently stopped. No matter how quickly she moved, Ron would be able to curse her before her fingers even grazed her wand. "Just shut up and stand there for a minute," Ron said firmly. He clenched his wand so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I'll use the Full-Body Bind if I have to," he threatened.

His tone was still hard and determined, but there was now a slight tremble to his voice. Hermione mutely stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded as she tried to assess if he really meant it. He knew that if he did, she would undoubtedly seek revenge. But he would risk it. He really would curse her if he had to. Slowly, she lowered her hand and waited. She could sacrifice a few minutes of her time.

His Adam's apple jumped nervously, but Ron forged bravely ahead. "It's my birthday on Saturday--which you know because you know everything," he muttered, kicking himself for being so stupid. His ears flushed red and Hermione's insides froze at the sight of it. She hadn't seen that happen in a good long while. Maybe the real Ron wouldn't be so difficult to find. "And I know that it probably doesn't matter to you because you hate me and you didn't get me anything for Christmas so you probably don't want to get me anything for my birthday, but if you did--"

Hermione's face hardened considerably. Was he really going to make a request for a birthday present?

"--could you--" Ron let out a sigh. He kept his eyes steadily on a fixed point over her shoulder, but he couldn't hide how lonely and disconsolate he looked. "--could you just talk to me again? Just for a day?"

Everything inside of her crumpled. Oh, God, Ron, no, please don't ...

"Just help me with Apparition--I'm bloody awful at it--or help me with homework, just do something normal so it's like we're friends again," Ron continued. Something shuddered so miserably across his face that Hermione had to look down at her feet. She had finally reached a point where she could look at him without feeling like she had fallen off the Astronomy Tower; she didn't want to revert back to that horrible state. "Please, Hermione, if you ever liked me at all, just please do something on Saturday, because I--" Ron screwed up his courage and blurted out the words he had been dying to say for some time. "Because I really miss you, Hermione."

He said it so quietly that Hermione almost didn't hear him. She looked sharply up at him, but he determinedly continued to stare over her shoulder. He'd lose it if he looked at her face. "I did a lot of crap to you, Hermione, and I'm sorry--I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to make it up to you, but I'd like to try--but I'm not asking for that," he amended hastily. "I know I can't tell you to forgive me--" He sounded absolutely miserable that he couldn't demand her forgiveness, but he continued on. "--so I'm not going to. I'm just telling you what I want for my birthday."

Ron stepped back from her, looking almost as pale green as he did before Quidditch matches. He knew the magnitude of what he had just admitted, but he had bravely done it anyway. Hermione clamped her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling and tried not to let his words and behavior get the best of her. It took a great deal of self-control, but she kept her arms from flinging around him. Ron waited in hopes of a word from her, but soon gave up with a dejected sigh. "So. Yeah. That's what I want," he concluded lamely. With a final look at her face, Ron considered saying something else, but instead opted to turn on his heel with a tensely clenched jaw and marched resolutely out of the room, leaving behind a very shaken Hermione who had to stand silently with one hand over her trembling lip for a good long time before she could finally walk out of the room with a shred of composure.

**

Ron's birthday dawned cold and bright and with no hope of an easy answer to Hermione's predicament. She knew how hard it must have been for Ron to summon up the courage to ask her to be friends again. Goodness knew that she had those same thoughts recently but had been quite unable to express them. But Ron had. Ron had actually had apologized. He could be growing up. Things could be changing.

But there was also every possibility that nothing had changed. Ron was just dreadfully behind on homework and needed Hermione's guidance to get him back on track. He could really have no interest in resuming their friendship. There was no way to be certain about Ron's intentions. She would just have to decide whether or not she could put her faith in Ron or not. She still hadn't decided if she could or not by the time she emerged from the tower to go to breakfast that Saturday morning. Maybe when she saw Ron for the first time, she would know what to do. She would just have to wait and see.

"Hey, Hermione!"

Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes as she turned to wait for Cormac McLaggen to jog up beside her. He was the last person he wanted to speak to right now. She had been slightly worried upon returning from Christmas break that McLaggen would confront her about her disappearing act at the party, but she needn't had bothered. He must have sensed her disapproval for he resolutely had ignored her for these past few months; apparently Cormac didn't taken rejection very well. "What do you want?" she asked tonelessly.

"I didn't do it."

Hermione sighed. A prefect's duties never ceased. "What did you do?"

"I didn't," McLaggen protested angrily. "That's what I wanted to tell you. Just in case he tries to pin it on me; I don't want you thinking I would do something like that."

"Cormac, I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said wearily. "Who is going to pin what on you?"

McLaggen let out an exasperated breath, deciding it would be best to start at the beginning. "Well, Weasley and I don't get along too well--"

"Really?" Hermione interjected dryly.

"--we have a bit of a thing going on. He's said some things, I've said some things and then I'm sure he told you all about the candy he sent me--"

"No," Hermione cut in again sternly. Her prefect instincts abruptly flared up. "What did he do to you?"

McLaggen brightened considerably. "That's right; you're a prefect. You could give him detention or something. He sent me a load of candy that made me sick."

"What sort of candy?" she said with a frown.

"Some Dark Mark candy," McLaggen explained.

"Ah." Hermione remembered vividly the stack of Dark Mark candies that Fred and George peddled in Diagon Alley. Ron must have restocked on supplies when he went home for Christmas. She pressed her lips together. Somehow she didn't think it would be prudent to laugh at a student registering a complaint. "And you didn't become suspicious of a candy shaped like the Dark Mark?"

"Well, no," McLaggen suddenly looked very flustered. "He said that his brothers gave him loads and I could have the extra. Fred and George always had a twisted sense of humor so I just reckoned it was their idea of a joke. I mean, Weasley ate one right in front of me and didn't even flinch. How was I supposed to know it was no good?" He scowled deeply and squirmed as though he was extremely constipated. "It kept me up all night."

Hermione hid a grimace. She didn't want to think about what Cormac was doing in the long hours he had been ill. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't punish Ron unless I see him with the candy," she informed him.

"No, no, I don't want you to punish him--although if you did that'd be fantastic--" McLaggen sighed. "The candy has nothing to do with it--I thought you knew--I just don't want you think I cursed Weasley or something. He didn't look as though he was in any shape to explain what had happened so I don't want it pinned on me," McLaggen finished gruffly.

"What do you mean not in any shape?" Hermione demanded. She looked back in the Great Hall to double-check that Ron wasn't there. He wasn't. She suddenly had completely forgotten that Ron stuck his tongue down Lavender's throat on a regular basis. "What happened to him?"

Cormac abruptly looked very sorry he had ever brought up this subject. "Well, I dunno exactly, but Weasley's been taken up to hospital--"

"What?"

"--I saw him on a stretcher with Pomfrey and McGonagall. They were rushing him up; he didn't look too good--" McLaggen trailed off as Hermione wordlessly bolted away as fast as she could despite the fact that suddenly she felt extremely ill. Running so fast that she was practically flying, Hermione shot up the stairs and raced down the corridor toward the hospital wing, all the while praying frantically that she would get there in time. In time for what Hermione didn't know, but she had to see Ron. He had asked her to talk to him on his birthday and damn it, Hermione now knew that she would. She had to. He couldn't--without knowing--Hermione choked while quickening her stride. She had to get there.

She almost screamed when she saw that the doors to the hospital wing were closed, signaling that no student should enter unless of an emergency as Madame Pomfrey was busy tending to a student in critical need of medical care. Whatever had happened to Ron had been bad, really bad. Mercifully, the only person in the hallway happened to be the one person who could probably give her any answers. "Harry, what happened?" she demanded as she skidded to a stop in front of him.

Harry had been sitting on the floor, gripping a fistful of hair, rigid with tension and shock, but he took one look at her face and jumped up to his feet. "He'll be okay," he reassured instantly. "I swear. I got the bezoar in him in time and Madame Pomfrey says he'll be fine, she just needs some time to do some work on him."

"Bezoar?" Hermione said faintly.

"Yeah, we were in Slughorn's office--" Harry broke off again as he looked at Hermione's face again. He took a hold of her arm in prevent her from collapsing. "Hermione, maybe you should sit down."

She fiercely shook her head. "What happened?" she bit out through her clenched jaw. Standing still was the only way she could keep from collapsing as Harry feared. She didn't need to sit down; she needed answers.

So Harry gave them to her. As calmly as he could manage, he told her how Ron had accidentally ingested a love potion so they had gone to Professor Slughorn to help. To make Ron feel better, Slughorn had given Ron some mead to toast his birthday. Some poisoned mead. Poison. This time, when Harry took her arm to try to sit her down, she didn't protest. She couldn't. Poisoned. Every syllable of that word caused something cold and dreadful to slide down into her stomach. Her head spun dizzily for a moment so Hermione had to grip her hair and try to prevent her sanity from spinning out of her. Poison. She actually shuddered; she had a feeling that that word was going to haunt her for a long time.

She didn't even realize Harry had crouched down in front of her until he moved his hand up to reassuringly pat her shoulder. "He'll be okay," he reassured wearily. His words would have been much more convincing if his eyes weren't still wild with the lingering fear of helplessly watching your best friend die. Hermione let out a little laugh, abruptly thinking about all of the times she had watched Harry come close to death. He finally knew how terrified she and Ron had been on those occasions. She and Ron had been injured before, yes, but neither of them had been at death's doorstep--well, there was the Ministry. As if to serve as an eternal reminder, a dull pain popped up in her breastbone. Hermione leaned her head back against the wall, grateful for Harry's solid hand on her shoulder. It was horribly wrong that the three of them had to endure these moments so many times at such a young age.

"Hey." Ginny skidded to a stop in front of them, wide-eyed. She jerked her thumb down the hall. "Seamus just told me that McLaggen told him that Ron was in hospital--" Her eyes rested on Hermione's face for the first time and Ginny paled considerably. "Oh God."

Harry was on his feet faster than he flew. "He's fine," he reassured steadily.

"Is he?" Ginny asked in a small voice. Her eyes were even rounder and wider, making her appear infinitely younger than her fifteen years. Automatically, one of her hands jerked slightly towards Harry, but as always, Ginny restrained herself. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Harry answered firmly. As if sensing Ginny's earlier impulse, his hand came up to her arm, similar to the way he had been patting Hermione's shoulder earlier. Instead of patting her, however, he slid his hand soothingly back and forth. Not completely reassured, Ginny continued to stare at Harry with wide eyes, silently begging him with her repressed tears to tell her the truth. "Yes." Harry repeated. Ginny's gaze didn't abate and it was that moment that something faltered in Harry's face. "He came close, but he's going to be fine," he admitted.

"He'll be all right?" Ginny asked again needlessly. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet in hopes of shaking back any tears.

Harry took a step closer. They were much closer to each other now, so close that they had well passed acceptable friend behavior and were now in possibly intimate conduct. Despite the situation, some tiny part of Hermione straightened up and took notice of this very interesting moment. Could Harry--?

"Yes," Harry said one more time. "You know I'd never let anything happen to Ron."

Hermione smiled wanly. There was something in Harry's voice that revealed that Ron wasn't the Weasley Harry'd die to protect.

Ginny turned ever-so-slightly pink and had to blink quite a few times and swallow hard before she could speak in a pseudo-normal voice. "What do you mean he came close? What happened?"

Keeping his hands on Ginny's arms, Harry proceeded to tell the story he was destined to tell numerous times today. Hermione however tuned him out and turned her attention to the closed door to the hospital wing. She wouldn't be able to take her eyes off of it until Madame Pomfrey or perhaps even Ron himself emerged. His plaintive voice returned in her memory, asking if she could please just be friends with him again, even if it was for just one day because somehow, it would make everything all right again. He had just wanted one thing for his birthday and she had yet to give it to him. Even though they weren't technically friends anymore, Ron had been amazing friend for nearly five years. For that alone, he deserved to receive his birthday wish. Clenching her jaw to keep from crying or shouting or doing something to alleviate the grief surging inside of her, Hermione folded her arms over her chest and settled down to wait. She wasn't leaving until she could give Ron his birthday present.

**

"Hermione? Hermione, wake up."

Hermione blinked groggily as she reluctantly opened her eyes. She and Harry had returned to the tower rather late, but it had still taken her a long time to get to sleep. She had finally drifted off into an uneasy slumber after spending hours lying awake, staring at the canopy of her bed, trying to block out the hateful hissing in her head that informed her that Ron was going to die at some point during the cursed night--she wasn't ready to wake up just yet. But from the insistent shaking of her shoulders, it didn't appear that the unwanted intruder was going to desist. "Ginny?" she asked wearily, pushing herself up on her elbows and squinting blearily at her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Shhh!" Ginny put a finger to her lips and pointed specifically at Lavender's bed. "You don't want to wake her." Hermione pulled a face as she remembered how she had been screamed at by Lavender the second she had returned from the hospital. Lavender was quite hurt and upset that no one cared to inform her that her boyfriend was in the hospital, but frankly, Hermione could care less. The absolute last thing she had needed to hear while they waited anxiously outside the hospital wing was about poor Won-Won. "Get dressed," Ginny whispered. "I'll wait outside."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she obediently slid out of bed. She noticed for the first time that Ginny was fully dressed even though the sun was just barely beginning to peek over the horizon. "Did something happen--?"

"He's fine," Ginny quickly reassured. "But there's something we have to do. So hurry up." Without any further explanation, she strode silently across the dormitory and slipped out into the corridor.

Despite Ginny's reassurances, Hermione still dressed at top speed, grabbing the pants she had worn yesterday and tossed haphazardly over the lid of her trunk and snatching up the first jumper she laid her hands on. She only paused to find Bilius within the tangle of bed sheets and return him to the safety of her trunk. As soon as she had been certain that Lavender was asleep, Hermione had rescued Bilius from the bottom of the trunk. Somehow, having the bear in her arms had helped Hermione finally fall asleep last night. She had never been so grateful for Ron's birthday gift to her as she was right now. Lavender, on the other hand, would not be too pleased with the bear's reappearance. Tiptoeing hastily across the room, Hermione sneaked out into the hallway where Ginny was patiently waiting with a serene smile.

"What's going on?" Hermione repeated in a louder, firmer voice.

"We're going to see Ron," Ginny explained stoutly. She started quickly down the spiral stairs and Hermione had to almost run to keep up and listen. "Mum and Dad sat up with him all night and probably didn't get any sleep. I want them to get out of that room for a bit and maybe even get something to eat. But I know they won't leave Ron alone." She burst through the portrait hole, rudely awakening the Fat Lady with a squawk. Placidly ignoring the indignant shouts of the portrait guardian, Ginny gestured in Hermione's direction. "That's where you come in."

"How do you mean? You want me to take your parents--"

"No, I get stuck with them; you're sitting with Ron."

Hermione stopped walking immediately. Sitting by Ron's bedside. Alone. Alone with Ron. It was a beautiful thought. It was also an extremely frightening thought after all they had been through, but it was still beautiful nevertheless. Her heart and stomach twisted with an unnatural combination of nerves and anticipation. "Ginny, I can't."

Ginny wheeled around, her face abruptly screwed up with a very Mrs. Weasley-ish glare. "Don't tell me you're still hacked off with him after all that's happened!"

"No." Hermione refuted insistently. "No, of course not. I just--" Hermione swallowed hard. It made her sick inside to admit this, but it could very well be the truth. "I just don't think Ron would want me there. After all that's happened. Maybe you should get Harry; he'd do it in a heartbeat--" There was also another potential person that would gladly sit with Ron, but Hermione couldn't bear to say her name. She had promised that she was no longer be jealous of Ron and Lavender, but that wouldn't stop her from dying a little every time she saw them together. It hurt to even suggest that Lavender be the one to stay with Ron, but the name loomed hauntingly between the two girls. Keeping a steadfast vigil over a boy's bedside was strictly a girlfriend sort of job. Lavender should technically be the one to do it, not Hermione.

Ginny stepped back towards her friend, her face softening. "Of course Harry would," Ginny agreed. "But I know Ron. He'd want you. And besides--" Ginny gave her a knowing wink. "--he didn't call Harry's name last night, did he? And I certainly didn't hear him calling for darling Lav-Lav."

Something very deep inside of her twinged with the most wonderful anticipation. No one else had commented when Ron had rolled over and murmured something that sounded wonderfully like 'Hermione,' so Hermione had decided that she must have imagined it. She had been under an enormous amount of stress and anxiety so it was understandable that she might imagine that something gloriously hopeful had happened. But if Ginny heard it too--Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, Ginny. He was just muttering. Besides, I had just spoke for the first time. He must have just heard my voice and subconsciously responded."

"Well, he didn't 'subconsciously respond' to any of us, now did he? He didn't even say a word when Mum and Dad were here. He only said something when he knew you were there," Ginny pointed out. She tugged on Hermione's arm to hurry her along. "He wants you there; he needs you. So come on."

"Ginny--" Hermione weakly protested, but she did quicken her stride. Even if Ron really hadn't murmured her name last night, he still did need someone to sit with him until he woke up. He would need someone beside him to explain what had happened.

Ginny burst through the hospital wing doors. "Mum? Dad?" she called while leading Hermione towards Ron's bed. She immediately quieted when she saw that Ron was still and pale as he was last night. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated in the chairs next to the bed, the arms of the chairs pressed against each other so Mrs. Weasley could lean tiredly into her husband. "How is he?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"No change yet," Mr. Weasley answered for both of them. He raised a hand to stroke his wife's hair. It was clear that Molly Weasley hadn't slept a wink all night. "Poppy said he'd wake up soon though."

"Good," Ginny said quietly. She stepped forward to lightly touch Ron's hand, staring sadly at her brother's sleeping face. Ron and Ginny may row a lot, but anyone could see that the brother and sister both cared very much about each other. Abruptly, she then turned to her parents. "Come on then."

"Wh-wh-what?" Mrs. Weasley asked shakily.

"You're always forcing food down our throats so now it's my turn. Let's get you some breakfast or at least some coffee. Hermione'll sit with Ron until we get back." Ginny waited for her parents to stand but they just remained seated, staring at their daughter as though they had never seen her before. She ordered her brothers around on a regular basis, but Ginny rarely exerted any authority over her parents; she knew how her mother would react if she did. "Come on," Ginny commanded again in a voice so closely reminiscent of her mother's that her dad automatically twitched in obedience. He smiled wanly at his youngest child and got to his feet. It was nice to see his little girl growing up.

"Come on, Molly," he urged gently. "You haven't eaten anything. You'll feel better after you do."

Mrs. Weasley wiped her face and sniffed. Her eyes were still awfully bloodshot. "But what if he wakes up?" she asked in a throaty voice.

"Hermione will be here, Molly," Mr. Weasley reminded her. He gave Hermione a small smile. "She'll take care of him for us."

Hermione nodded emphatically as Mrs. Weasley shifted to look at her as if she had just noticed that her son's best friend was here. Mrs. Weasley looked at Hermione for a long moment and Hermione knew what she was thinking about : the conversation they had had at Grimmauld Place the summer before fifth-year.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley agreed. Mr. Weasley helped her up and linked arms with her. "We'll be back soon," Mrs. Weasley told Hermione. "Come get us if anything changes."

"I will," Hermione promised. Mrs. Weasley gave her a grateful, watery smile and with a parting pat to Hermione's cheek, slowly left the hospital wing with her husband at her side and Ginny bringing up the rear. Ginny paused to give Hermione a knowing wink before slowly shutting the door to the hospital to give Hermione some privacy.

Hermione remained tentatively at the end of Ron's bed, wondering what she should do. She supposed she could always sit in one of Mr. or Mrs. Weasley's chairs, but somehow it just didn't seem good enough. She and Ron had been fighting for months and now she had almost lost him forever. A huge hot lump swelled up in her throat. Suddenly, it became difficult to breathe. Ron had almost died. Sitting even two feet away from him was much too far.

She looked anxiously around her. There were no other patients in the ward and Madame Pomfrey was still in her office. No one would see. Bravely, Hermione walked forward, creeping her hand across the mattress until it brushed against Ron's limp fingers. She had to stoop uncomfortably to fully entwine their fingers but it was worth it. Although he was still horribly pale and still, his hand radiated reassuring warmth and life. Her thumb slid down to his wrist so she could check his pulse. It pulsated with a strong, steady rhythm. Keeping her hand wrapped in his, she next bent forward so she could tentatively press her free hand against his chest. His heart thudded loudly and reverberated comfortingly throughout Hermione's entire arm. Hermione studied his shoulders as they rose and fell with every easy breath he took. He was warm to the touch, his heartbeat and pulse were regular, and he was breathing normally. Momentarily overcome, Hermione fell onto the edge of Ron's bed. He really was going to be just fine. Madame Pomfrey had told them last night that he would be, but--well, she just had to see for herself.

For a long moment, Hermione just sat there, fervently thanking whatever higher powers that could hear her for keeping Ron with them. When she had finished, she couldn't help looking curiously down at Ron's arm. She vaguely remembered something Ron had said at the beginning of the year, but never had the courage to ask him about it. Now she could see for herself. She set the hand she was holding in her lap and pushed his pajama sleeve up to his elbow.

"Oh," she breathed almost silently. Ron was right; he did have scars from the Ministry. The deep welts that twirled and coiled up his arms had faded considerably, but the dull pink-brown whirls still stood out rather violently against his pale skin. Some of the scars were even still tinged with the deep violet hue the wounds had had immediately after the incident. Her finger traced lightly over one of the arcs. The texture of the scar was stiff and tough; the protective scar tissue had yet to be replaced by the regular smooth epidermis. He had made significant progress, but there was still a long way to go. Hermione blew out an anxious sigh. That was certainly true in several areas.

Abruptly, Ron's head rolled in her direction as he moaned quietly. Hermione quickly pulled her hand away from his scars, but when she tried to pull her left hand free, his fingers tightened convulsively around hers. He frowned drowsily. "Er-my-knee?"

She froze. He had done it again. It couldn't be a coincidence. He really was calling her name. Ron Weasley was waking up after a near-death experience and the first thing he said was her name. Hermione abruptly felt as though she had no innards. When she had awakened at the Ministry, she had called to him for a very meaningful reason; was he saying hers for the same? She swallowed hard. "Ron?" She shifted her position so she could keep their intertwined hands in her lap and look at him directly at the same time. "Ron, can you hear me?"

He could. One side of his mouth twitched upwards in the semblance of a smile. Slowly and blearily, he blinked once, twice, three times before he could finally leave his eyes open. Hermione held her breath as his eyes swam into focus. The lopsided smile fleetingly flickered across his face again. " 'at 'appened?" he asked in a groggy croak. He winced as though it pained him to speak.

Hermione wasn't certain how much Ron remembered, but if it hurt to talk, she didn't want him to say a word. She was just going to have to tell him the whole story. "You accidentally took some love potion and Harry took you to Slughorn to give you an antidote. Slughorn gave you some mead to toast your birthday after you were cured--but-that mead that was meant for someone else," Hermione explained. Her lip trembled but she struggled to speak calmly. Ron needed to be reassured that he was going to be all right. "It was poisoned," she added quietly.

Ron let out a rasp of understanding. "And 'arry gave me a bezoar?"

She looked at Ron with surprise as he cleared his throat several times. "How did you know that?"

"Who else would?" Ron struggled to sit up. Hermione quickly moved to position the pillows for him. Her hand had to reluctantly leave the shelter of his to do so, but as long as he was awake and alive, Hermione was even willing to watch him and Lavender snog for the rest of her life. She just needed him safe.

He still however looked very pale so Hermione looked anxiously towards the nurse's office. "I better get Madame Pomfrey," she told him. "She'll want to check you out."

She rose, but to her surprise, his warm hand was back on hers. "No, not yet," he begged. Despite his pallor, his ears were tinged with telltale red. He bravely nodded back to the bed as he firmly and deliberately pushed his fingers back around hers so there was no mistaking his intentions. "Just--stay."

"Okay," she whispered. Hermione sank back down onto the edge of the mattress and returned their hands to her lap. She stared down, feeling her cheeks turn hot pink. This was what she had always wanted: her and Ron to consciously recognize their feelings for each other and act on it. She had grabbed his hand and now he had taken hers. They had been playing a coy, cruel, let's-act-like-we-fancy-each-other-but-also-flaunt-our-meaningless-relationships-with-other-people-in-hopes-of-making-you-jealous game for months, but now, it was over. They had hurt each other far too much with the highest cost. They had almost lost each other forever. She had almost lost Ron without telling him everything about her. He already knew her better than anyone, but there was still a long way to go and who knew how much time they had left? They couldn't afford to play games any longer. They had to finally start being honest with each other.

Hermione looked up at Ron. She had no idea where to begin. Their eyes had met and as always, Hermione had the inexplicable urge to look away because it was much too overwhelming. She was only seventeen; she was far too young to look deep into a boy's eyes and see her entire future resting within them. But there it was and it was the most glorious, beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was even better than that delicious daydream she had treated herself to over Christmas holidays, because this was real. It was the realest, truest moment of her life. Almost simultaneously, the couple smiled at each other, knowing that they were sharing the same thoughts. There really was no need for words or apologies. Hermione didn't have to begin anything--he understood completely.