Hermione Granger and the Time of Troubles

If anyone would have walked by the second floor waiting room at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries during the early hours of New Year's Day, a strange sight would have beheld them. For one thing, there wasn't a single seat available in the entire spacious room; in fact, it appeared that every solitary spot where a person could either sit, stand, or lay down was occupied. The second unusual thing that caught the eye of a passerby was that all the people were dressed in their best dress robes. Another odd thing about the occupants of the room was that at least half of them were blessed with bright, vivid heads of copper hair. It was obvious that the majority of the dozing people were related, and all of them were waiting for news about the same person. This observation led to the viewer's final thought about the oddity of this scene: it was so unusual that a patient was so loved that a whole room of people was willing to spend the night crammed together like house-elves.

It was now almost six o'clock in the morning and although Hermione had only been asleep for at most two hours, when she blearily opened her eyes, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep any longer until the Healer returned with news about Ron. She slowly raised her head up. She had curled up in the fetal position on the side of one of the two sofas in the waiting area, her head rested on the arm of the couch. Harry had hunkered down in the midsection of the couch, his head resting on the back of the sofa, legs sprawled out in front of him, arms folded over his chest in a vain attempt to keep himself warm. Her ankles had been resting in his lap so she had to very carefully swing her legs off of him to make sure that he wouldn't wake up. He looked awfully cold so Hermione gently pulled the baby blue blanket that she had been resting under off of her and passed it over to Harry. She blinked sleepily; where on earth had that blanket come from?

Shrugging slightly, she rubbed her eyes and surveyed the rest of the room. On the other side of the couch, Fred was snoring quietly with his head resting against the back of the sofa, his back against Harry's shoulder, legs draped over the arm of the sofa. George was spread eagle on the carpeted floor between their sofa and the coffee table, face averted away from Hermione but his even breathing clearly indicated that he was sound asleep. The sofa on the opposite side of the room was occupied by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny was lying on her side, knees slightly bent , her head resting in her mother's lap. One of Mrs. Weasley's hands was limply intertwined in Ginny's long curls, indicating that she had been stroking her daughter's hair before drifting off to sleep. Mr. Weasley was slumped over in a nearby armchair and his feet were propped up on the arm of the sofa nearest to Mrs. Weasley. There were four other armchairs adorning the room, all of which were occupied by Bill, Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody and all of who were fast asleep. Fleur Delacour was curled up in Bill's lap. Charlie was seated on the floor, his back resting against the sofa Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were asleep on, legs stretched out underneath the coffee table, his dragon-hide boots only inches away from George's still form. Professor Lupin was the only person standing at the moment. Apparently, he was on guard duty for Harry and was backed into a corner, his head back against the wall, his eyes half open. He started slightly when Hermione sat up fully but when he realized it was only her, his eyes shut once again.

Hermione warily stepped over George so she could tiptoe her way to the girls' lavatory. No one was in there so after splashing some cool water on her face, she was free to spend a few moments examining her reflection. Her hair was a frizzled mess after sleeping on the elegant hairdo Ginny had spent hours arranging, her eyes were puffy from the lack of sleep and the smudging of last night's makeup, and her dress robes were so wrinkled that she didn't think even the strongest laundry spells would ever be able to repair the damage. Hermione sighed as she began to pull out the numerous bobby pins ensnarled in her hair--she didn't want to look too awful when she finally saw Ron again.

She had hoped to see him a great deal sooner than this, but by the time they had all ran down to the basement of the Ministry, Ron had already been rushed to St. Mungo's. Healers had been tending to him when Hermione and the others had arrived and they were told all they could do was wait. The trouble was that Hermione had been waiting for much too long.

She knew in the bottom of her heart that Ron was alright and she would be seeing him very soon. It would just be nice to have her mind in on that knowledge too, considering that all the facts and logic that her analytical mind depended on was telling that that Ron could have irrevocable damage inflicted upon him and he could never be the same again, if he even survived.

Her hair was now freed from its pinioned prison and shook her head vigorously. The chestnut curls bounded down and brushed against her shoulders. She stared at her reflection before doing the only thing she could think of at a time like this: she absently ran her fingers through her hair, closed her eyes, and imagined that it was Ron.

**

It was late morning before a Healer finally entered the packed waiting room. "Ron Weasley?" the efficient witch called out. She started when every single person in the room straightened up or stood up. "All of you?"

"How is he?" Mrs. Weasley choked out while twisting her damp handkerchief she had been dabbing her eyes with every since waking up.

The Healer finally got over her surprise that all these people were here for one patient and gave her report. "He's going to have to stay here for a couple of days, but he'll be just fine. We may have to move him up to our Spell Damage ward if he doesn't recover by tonight from the effects of Cruciatus," Mrs. Weasley let out a sob at those words and Mr. Weasley's hand immediately came down on her shoulder. Harry flinched in commiserating pain. "But other than that, we treated the wounds on his arms and the damage to his leg and once he finishes the treatment for malnutrition, he'll be free to go."

"Can we see him?" Mr. Weasley asked for his wife since she was crying too hard to speak.

The Healer's eyes roved over the many people before answering. "I think just the immediate family for now," She started once again when all of the redheads leapt up and held out a restraining hand. "On second thought, perhaps just his parents."

Mrs. Weasley charged forward with her husband close behind, forcing the Healer to have to almost run to keep up. Hermione leaned back against the sofa and let out an impatient sigh. Harry, who was still seated next to her, shot her a sympathetic glance.

"I know," he agreed. One of his clenched fists was beating against the cushion in irritation and he glanced at the clock.

"Harry," Lupin interjected. "Why don't you and Hermione get some drinks for us?" He started to rummage in his pockets for some coins but Harry shook his head.

"I've got it," he told him. "Coffee?" He glanced around the room for approval. Almost everyone nodded in agreement and he returned the gesture. "Come on, Hermione."

Hermione followed Harry silently to the tearoom. It wasn't until Harry had placed their order that Hermione finally decided to speak.

"What did they do with Percy?"

"Handed him over to the Aurors for questioning," Harry replied as he leaned against the counter.

"What's going to happen to him?" Hermione continued, arms folded over her chest.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. "There's no evidence that he's did any of the stuff he told us about--they'll question Ron once he's better so maybe..."

"So you're saying he could get off?" Hermione asked with outrage.

"Yeah," Harry said with a disgruntled heave of disgust. "No evidence, no conviction."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said irately. "I mean they almost convict you when all you did was defend yourself, they convict Sirius without a trial...oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," she bit her lip as Harry's face flashed with the all-to-familiar painful recognition that Sirius was gone forever. "That was stupid of me," she added.

"'S alright," Harry told her awkwardly.

She looked at Harry's profile for a long moment; he was avoiding her eyes and staring down at the red oak counter. "I've never asked you how you're doing with that,"

"Fine," Harry said immediately. There was a pause in which Hermione simply looked at him. "I miss him," he admitted under his breath.

"I know you do," Hermione put a placating hand on his shoulder and he let out a long breath.

"I just wish there was some way to bring him back, y'know?" Harry continued. It was clear that he hadn't talked about this in a long time, yet it had been bottled up inside of him for so long that when he was finally asked about it, it was all spilling out. "I mean, Luna said something to me and I keep thinking about it and I know she's a bit mental and all, but what if she's right?"

"Harry, what are you--oh, thank you!" Hermione stepped backwards in surprise as the waitress finally set in front of them the dozen coffees they had ordered.

"Thanks," Harry added as he tipped some Galleons into her awaiting hands. He ignored the waitress's eyes shooting upwards towards his scar and picked up one of the trays. Hermione picked up the other one while opening her mouth to repeat her question but Harry spoke up before she had the chance. "I know it's not true or anything, but with everything that's happened..." He shook his head and lowered his voice so it was barely audible. "It just seems like everyone I know likes to die on me or something,"

Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned towards him, carefully balancing the tray of coffees. "Harry, you know that's not true," she said softly.

"I know," Harry conceded. "It just feels like it at times, you know."

"Ron's not going to die, Harry," Hermione reminded him. "You heard the Healer; he's going to be fine."

"Yeah," Harry concurred, but his tone indicated that he wouldn't be fully reassured until he saw Ron for himself. There was another silence as Harry pressed the button to call the lift to take them back to the second floor. "You think it's ever going to stop?"

Hermione reflected for a moment before answering. "I think it will--it has to."

"Why?" Harry demanded with a trace of the cynical tone that she had grown to despise.

"Because I can't believe that evil can survive on its own," she explained as they stepped into the empty lift. "I think that good can come out of every evil action and good always defeats evil, so," she shrugged, "logically, good will therefore win."

"What good came out of all this?" Harry asked with a bitter laugh, gesturing with his free hand.

She knew that he meant the whole Ron situation and it was indeed difficult to think of how on earth Ron being kidnapped and nearly tortured to death caused some sort of good. But she knew an answer immediately.

"It brought the two of us together, didn't it?"

A corner of Harry's mouth twitched upwards in a semblance of a smile. "Yeah," he agreed.

"I know now not to nag you to death," Hermione added.

"Yeah, and I know now not to snap at you and Ron all the time," Harry said with a nod. "Yeah, you're right--and it brought me and gin..."

"Yes?" Hermione said eagerly when Harry broke off abruptly.

"Me and Ginny got to know each other, that's all," Harry said with feigned nonchalance.

"Uh-huh," Hermione smiled broadly as she stared straight ahead.

"It's not like that or anything--honestly, she has a boyfriend, Hermione!"

"Uh-huh,"

"She's over me--she said so herself,"

"Uh-huh," Every time Hermione repeated an "uh-huh", her wicked smile grew wider and wider with a rarely seen trace of girlish glee.

"Girls," Harry muttered under his breath as the doors slid open. He led the way down the long corridor, not noticing that Hermione was slowly trailing behind until he was about to enter the waiting area. He frowned as he stepped back. "What?"

Then he heard it too.

"Mum, stop crying--I'm fine!"

Hermione never knew that just the sound of one person's voice could reduce her to a trembling, emotional wreck. Harry haphazardly set down his tray of coffees so he could try to discern what room the voice was floating from. Hermione found she could only stand stock-still, clutching the tray for dear life, marveling that mercifully, at last, the most important person in her life was back where he belonged.

She knew that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley must be replying to Ron's statements but she could only hear the low, resonating quality of Ron's voice--the only voice on the planet that could make her spine tingle in that amazing, glorious way.

"Where's everyone else?"

Harry was several yards away by now, standing in front of an open door and cautiously peering inside. He glanced back at Hermione and waved at her encouragingly.

"Harry!"

Harry hastily entered the room and his disappearance jerked Hermione into action. But no matter how quickly she dumped the tray of steaming hot coffee, spilling some on her in the process and took off running down the eternally long corridor, she just couldn't get there fast enough.

"Where's Hermione?"

Oh God, he said my name. She was only halfway there when a herd of Healers shuffled out of the staff room, one of who was Ron's who instantly recognized the bushy haired girl. Hermione's arm was seized and in some intelligible gibberish that Hermione couldn't comprehend, the Healer asked her a slew of stern questions. Hermione could only guess that she was being chastised for running in a hospital and trying to see Ron when she had been told to wait.

"Oh, calm down, Mum, I'm fine--a splint is put on a leg to help you walk, not keep you in bed!"

He was walking? Hermione tugged on the Healer's arm, pointing dumbly in the direction of Ron's room and muttering about how she had to get there before she exploded or something as awful as that. But it was only when a shadow passed from an open doorway that the Healer's attention was finally diverted away from her captive.

"Hermione,"

Everything in the world came to a crashing halt and time seemed to slow. As if in a dream, Hermione's head turned in slow motion, her messy curls bobbing back and forth off of her face at the movement. Blue eyes met hazel, both brimming with unsuppressed want, need, and desire. The restraining hold on her arm slowly was dropped and although Hermione knew in actuality she was running as fast as she could, her mind was still processing everything very, very slowly. She was still drinking in every single aspect of Ron: the bright blue eyes, the bright hair, the freckles dusting all over his pale skin, his lanky build, the long limbs, that smile...

Although she knew she shouldn't because he was undoubtedly injured and weak, his eyes told her that it was okay so she just hurtled herself into him. Ron had never let her down before, and he didn't disappoint this time. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his torso, her arms around his neck, her face buried into his shoulder. Her fingers twined themselves into the cotton hospital gown, she fiercely inhaled his unique spicy scent, savored the feel of his skin against her cheek. Her ragged breathing matched his own as he clung to her with a need just as urgent and all-consuming as her own. One hand was weaved in her curls, the other wrapped around her to hold her up and make sure she didn't fall. Ron Weasley would never let Hermione Granger fall.

Time sped up now, and it was moving all too fast. She knew she couldn't stay in Ron's arms forever, but damn it, she wanted to. She never wanted him to let her go; she just wanted to stay this way forever. Things were finally right with the universe and she wanted to savor the moment for as long as it would last. Because with this war on, wonderful moments wouldn't last forever; moments like these were actually quite difficult to come by.

But she wasn't going to think about that. Not now. All she was going to focus on was the most important thing that was racing through her mind:

Now she was back where she belonged.

**

"It's good to see you smiling like that," Remus Lupin commented with a half-smile of his own while taking a seat next to Hermione on the sofa. Her smile widened at his words and Hermione pretended to busy herself with the open book in front of her in order to hide the blush that was starting to spread across her cheeks. "Anyway, we're going to be leaving in a few minutes and I was wondering if you would be coming with us,"

"I'd like to stay if that's alright," Hermione said instantly. She didn't want to leave the building that Ron was in just yet.

"I suppose so," Lupin looked about. "Arthur and Molly are going to stay the night so I'm sure they can keep an eye on you." He smiled somewhat proudly. "Although you are of age--you don't really need anyone to look after you."

"No, I don't," Hermione replied.

"Right," Lupin patted her on the shoulder. "He's going to be asleep for most of the night, but if he does wake up, I'm sure that there is no one else he'd rather see." Now Hermione couldn't hide the very vivid blush staining her cheeks. Lupin laughed softly as he got to his feet. "We'll be back in the morning,"

Hermione nodded and bade good-bye to Harry, Ginny, Fred, George and the others. Harry and Ginny looked rather disgruntled that they weren't allowed to stay but they left with Remus without too much of a fight.

Now Hermione was the only one left in the waiting room. Mrs. Weasley was sitting beside Ron's bed while he slept and Mr. Weasley was tending to some paperwork so she knew she would be on her own for quite sometime.

Somehow, she managed to study for several hours despite the fact that Ron kept popping into her mind every few seconds. She didn't have a very good opportunity to talk to him being that he was in the hospital and needed a great deal of rest. His walk out to the corridor to see her, for example, had been wonderful but he had slept for two hours after falling back into bed. Of course her jumping up into his arms hadn't helped matters. Hermione blushed again at the recollection of it--how was it that Ron Weasley was the only person in the world that caused her to lose her self-control like that. He was the only one who could do it and she had a pretty good idea that he was the only person in the world with that skill.

She had to admit that in the time that he had been conscious, it had taken a great deal of patience and self-control not to monopolize all of his time. She had to share him with the numerous other people who cared so much for him when all she wanted to do was lock the door, bar all other visitors and spend every waking moment with him for the rest of their lives.

Hermione glanced up at the clock. It was almost midnight. She was surprised that no one had chased her out yet but perhaps Mr. or Mrs. Weasley had told the staff to leave her alone. Mrs. Weasley had stopped by a few hours earlier and tried to convince her to go home and get a good night's sleep, but Hermione had refused. Mrs. Weasley had appeared too happy with her decision, but she had accepted it much to Hermione's relief.

She slowly shut her book and stuffed it back into her schoolbag. Remus had returned home earlier that day and brought over fresh clothes and supplies for everyone and he had been wise enough to grab her schoolbooks. She slung the bag over her shoulder, smoothed her jumper and jeans and quietly slipped into the corridor. The hallway was almost completely dark and undoubtedly deserted so no one spotted the young woman tiptoeing into a patient's room well after visiting hours.

Ron did not have a private room but fortunately no other patient had been assigned to his room, giving a comfortable place for Mrs. Weasley to curl up and sleep. Mr. Weasley had taken the visitor's chair, his feet propped up on the edge of the mattress. His hand was also resting on the bed, his fingers intertwined with his wife's. Hermione smiled fondly at her boyfriend's parents before moving on to the section behind the curtain dividing the room.

She was expecting Ron to be asleep so she gasped with surprise when she found his blue eyes wide open and fastened on her. Her hand instinctively went to her chest to cover her rapidly beating heart. "You scared me," she whispered.

Ron chuckled in response, but not for very long. Hermione flinched along with him in sympathetic pain. She remembered all too well how long it had taken her to be able to laugh without any pain after the Ministry incident at the end of fifth-year. Quickly, she made her way to the side of the bed so she could take his hand in hers. He gripped it tightly until the wave passed and he smiled briefly to convey his thanks before dropping her hand.

"I expected you to be asleep," she commented.

"So did I," he admitted as he struggled into a sitting position. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed so she could help make him more comfortable. "I thought you were going to go back with the others,"

"I didn't want to leave just yet," Hermione told him as she smoothed the sheets around him. "Are you cold? Do you want your blanket?" She moved to grab the baby blue blanket folded neatly at the end of his bed.

"I'm fine," Ron reassured her, taking hold of her wrist to prevent her from retrieving the unnecessary covering. She instantly desisted at the feel of his fingers on her skin. It just didn't make any sense that a boy could have such an effect on her. She shivered with delight as he moved his fingers down so they were holding hands. Hermione moved her other hand to cover their clenched fingers. They simply sat there for several moments, holding hands and feeling currents of heat shooting up and down every inch of their bodies.

"I--I for once don't know what to say," Hermione finally broke the silence with a little awkward laugh. Ron's other hand came up to lightly stroke her back and the warm tingling feeling intensified. She let out a soundless gasp and felt she had to say something logical in order to not succumb to this feeling. It wouldn't be very appropriate to pounce on a hospital patient. Luckily at that point her eyes rested on his heavily bandaged arms. She frowned as she lifted one of her hands from his so she could trace her fingernail along the cotton dressing. "Those looked awful,"

"They're not sure the scars will ever go away," Ron said quietly.

Hermione swallowed hard, glad that her back was to him. He hated it whenever she cried so he didn't want him to see the sympathetic tears welling up. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you," Ron didn't answer--how do you respond to a comment like that. She kicked her legs that were dangling off the edge of the bed nervously. "I don't know what to say," she repeated. "I mean, so much has happened, Ron, what do you do in a situation like this--I just want to make you feel better and I don't know how..."

"You are," Ron said instantly. He moved his hand to her chin and forced her to look at him. He blanched slightly at the sight of her watery eyes but that didn't stop him from continuing. "You have no idea how much you just being here..." he trailed off as he looked deeply into her eyes. Hermione wondered if he was surreptitiously probing in her thoughts without her knowledge but all she did was stare back. She really didn't care if he was poking around in her mind; she trusted him implicitly. His Adam's apple bobbed jerkily for a moment before he could speak again. "Could you do something for me?" Hermione nodded vigorously. He nodded towards the curtains. "Pull those shut?" She really didn't want lose physical contact with him but she obediently rose from the bed and snapped the curtains all the way closed. "They have a soundproofing charm on them or something," Ron explained. "I just want to make sure that we don't wake Mum and Dad,"

Hermione returned to her perch on the side of the bed with her back to Ron. But Ron would have none of that; despite his injuries, he managed to scoot over and guide her towards him at the same time so that they were lying side by side. Her head was resting comfortably against his chest and he placed one long arm over her shoulders and his fingers shifted lovingly through her curls. Hermione draped her arm across his chest and burrowed her face into him, the rough cotton cutting slightly into her cheek but she honestly didn't care. This was how they would sit whenever they would sneak up to the Astronomy Tower and the familiarity of the position warmed her heart with pure joy at being back in Ron's arms.

She didn't know how long they sat like this. Time seemed irrelevant now. But the tranquil spell was soon broken by Ron's hoarse voice.

"I was bending down when I grabbed the Portkey so I somersaulted forward a few feet. I wasn't really scared. Dolohov was still frozen so he couldn't do anything to stop me. I thought I could just touch the Portkey again, be transported back, and everything would be fine. But before I could do anything, someone hit me with a Stunning spell. I didn't even think that anyone else would be there.

"When I woke up, they had me in that room. I never left it--they would always come to me. I think they were still trying to decide what to do with me because they left me alone for the first day or so.

"They would only come at night--probably because no one was at the Ministry. They sort of set up this routine--they'd come in, ask me some questions about Harry and stuff, and when I didn't answer, they'd...

Ron's voice broke at this point and Hermione hugged him tighter. She wasn't very sure he wanted to voice aloud all the awful things that had been inflicted upon him and she honestly didn't know if she wanted to hear them. All she knew was that she wanted him to know was that she was there for him and that she would always be there for him.

"They messed up my leg first--they didn't chain me down or anything so I had been trying to get out--I hid behind the door when they came in and jumped on the first person who came in. I got her wand and tried...but he was there too and he pointed his wand at my leg...All the muscles just twisted and shriveled or something and I couldn't stand anymore--you know, I can't play Quidditch for the rest of the year; I can't get a broomstick for at least six months." There was another long pause as Ron tried to get a hold of himself. "And then they'd use Crucio,"

Hermione muffled her sob into his chest but she couldn't stop the hot tears from plopping onto his hospital gown.

"I don't know how Harry ever fought after going through that, Hermione--I-I don't think I ever knew what hurt really felt like until that--I reckon--it's what dying feels like because you reach a point that you find it physically impossible to hurt anymore--and you know it has to stop--but it doesn't and you find yourself praying for the world to swallow you whole just so you don't have to feel anymore--and when it finally stops, the hurt just stays with you for ages--it never really goes away.

"Days really start to blur together--I'd pass out for ages and wake up and not know where I was or what day it was. I tried keeping a tally on the wall to keep up but I was a bit off; according to my count, I was only there for a little over two weeks.

"The only thing that would break up the days was them coming and then whenever I could feel you. I reckon you know all about empaths and everything?" Hermione nodded into his chest. "Yeah, I knew you'd figure it out once you started to feel me too.

"I've always been able to sense certain people's feelings and stuff but it was always strongest with you and it got even stronger after fifth-year. We'd be in the hospital together and I would wake up whenever you'd fall out of bed because I could always feel it and the more I would concentrate on you, the stronger it got.

"The day it happened, I only woke up in time to stop that Death Eater because you were really scared and hurt so I just jolted right up. If it wasn't for you, all of us may have ended up with those Death Eaters. You woke me up after they first messed my leg and stuff because you were hurt too. Then you fought with Harry a few days later and I had to talk to you about that but you were asleep so I sort of just nosed in--I didn't even know I could do that.

"They knew that something was up and they were pretty hard on me so I couldn't reach you for a while. But then one day I was pretty out of it and you were so miserable and I don't know how but somehow we both thought of the same memory at the same time. You know, me teaching you how to fly. And it helped--the pain went away because I remembered you.

"I sort of held onto to you for a bit and that's why I knew about Malfoy. Which, by the way," Ron shifted backwards so he could look down at her, "is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life and for the love of Merlin, never do that again." Hermione giggled slightly as she nodded in agreement. She had plenty of clever retorts to answer with, but she knew that Ron really didn't want to hear her speak at the moment. He just needed a receptive audience to tell his story.

"But then they came in. And I don't know how they knew what I was doing, but they did." He extended his free arm outwards. "And that's when they did this. They knew that the scars and the brains or whatever had somehow strengthened this gift I had and I think they were hoping if the wounds were worsened or mutilated or something, the power would go away--I could tell that they were really worried that I was telling you where I was or something. Apparently the Order was really close to finding me or something and they had gotten the idea to ransom me to Dad when Harry didn't come running after me so they wanted me alive a bit longer.

"I was in a bad state when they left me after that visit and when I finally came to, they were there and gloating about how they had tricked the Order and how Dad was going to give in to them now they had killed a bunch of people but that the only way they were going to get me back was dead and if I had told you anything, that it didn't matter because you wouldn't believe me anymore and that they..."

Ron broke off once again and shook his head. Hermione began making soothing circles across her chest, sensing the drumming irregular rhythm of his heart beneath her finger tips. "You don't have to tell me everything now, it's okay," she whispered.

"No," Ron said firmly. "No, I want to--I don't want to bottle this all up like Harry does," But it was only when his cheek was resting against the side of Hermione's head was he able to speak once again. "They said that they never would have guessed a Mudblood would be so useful and--and then they said a load of other stuff about you and Harry and everyone else." Ron apparently wasn't ready to disclose the full details of that confrontation but his grip on her tightened in such a way that she knew that it had been really, really bad.

"I snapped--I hadn't stood up to them ever since the first night and I figured it was about bloody time I did since I was a Gryffindor and all--I-I don't know what I did, but obviously it didn't work because when I woke up my leg hurt even more and they had reopened the cuts on my arms and I-I just hurt, but there was this tapping on the door so I dragged myself over and tried to open the door but I couldn't so I just called out for help but all that happened was this letter was pushed under the door and it was from Harry telling me that he was just trying to see if Hedwig could find me and if I was reading this, she had and he would be along soon since he would write another letter and follow Hedwig to me--I don't know how Hedwig managed to get that letter under that door but if any owl could do it, it's Hedwig, right?

"Anyway, I was trying to get rid of the letter in case they came back and you just hit me--I just could feel you and you were scared for some reason but what was so incredible this time was that you were so close--I knew you were somewhere nearby and when we talked it was like you were standing right next to me and I knew that everything was going to be alright because you were still trying to find me and I know that once you put your mind to something, you'd never stop until it was done. And then Moody came in.

"I can't tell you about every awful thing that they did to me or said to me because all of that is a big blur. But I can tell you about every moment that I thought about you because it was you that kept me going--I mean, there were times that I was so messed up that I couldn't even remember my own name but your face would pop up in my mind and then everything would be fine and good and I would remember.

"And when we would communicate or I would feel you or whatever you want to call it, it would never be for very long but it was enough--I know that the connections that were the strongest were the ones whenever you were upset or hurt or scared or something but those were only the ones that you would feel--sometimes I would just reach out just for the hell of it and hear you laughing or see you studying or smiling and I knew that you were getting along even though I could tell how sad you really were and I would think that you were the strongest person I knew and I wanted to be a bit more like you so I would think what you would do if you were in my situation and do it.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you--for being you--cause it saved my life," He pressed his lips firmly against her temple and she could feel the dry sob he had been trying so valiantly to conceal rack his chest.

She scooted away from him and knelt on the bed, facing him. His eyes were quite over-bright and she knew that he wouldn't want her to see him cry so she just held out her arms. "Come here,"

Ron burrowed his face in the place where the neck meets the shoulder and crushed her with a tight embrace. Tears of her own dropped atop his head as she smoothed his hair lovingly and held him close. She kissed the top of his forehead and he lifted his face to her so that after five weeks of agony, their lips could finally meet and amend all past pain.

Hermione admitted that she did let herself a bit carried away but when she finally leaned back, neither one of them really didn't want the connection to end. Because now it seemed that whenever their lips would touch, the empathic connection between them would intensify. Once again, kissing Ron had become actually becoming one with Ron; she became engulfed with his every want, desire, need, fear, hope--every iota of Ron was illuminated to her and although she could never learn all there was to know about this boy that she loved so much, she was willing to kiss him for an entire lifetime in the attempt to find out.

Ron smoothed her hair back, his eyes still very bright and he blinked rapidly as he examined her face. He appeared to be dying to tell her something but something held him back and he abruptly released her and leaned back in bed, hands over his face for a moment before raking backwards to push back his fiery hair. He had a million different emotions running across his face and his eyes were so utterly confused and lost that Hermione instantly reached out for him again.

"Hey, what is it?" she asked with mounting concern.

"I--I can't tell you," Ron gulped. "Not yet,"

"Oh," Hermione couldn't help being slightly hurt that he was keeping something from her, but she also knew it was an irrational feeling and quickly dismissed it. "Well, whenever you're ready, you know I'm here,"

"Yeah," Ron frowned as Hermione shifted as though she was about to rise from the bed. "Hey, what are you doing?" His hands placed themselves on her hips to prevent her from moving out of her sitting position. As if she could really move with him touching her.

"Oh, I thought you'd want to be alone and get some sleep," Hermione explained. "It is rather late and you should get some rest..."

"No," Ron said stubbornly as he with surprising strength and adeptness twisted her around so that they were once again lying side by side. "You're staying here tonight."

"Fine with me," Hermione contentedly nestled closer to him.

"If something happens, I always want to have tonight," Ron continued.

Her heart clenched fearfully at his odd words. She had just gotten him back and she didn't want to think about the horrid possibility of losing him once again. "Ron, don't talk like that; you're scaring me," she admitted quietly.

"Sorry, love," Ron kissed her forehead in another form of an apology. "But you know anything could happen now,"

"Yes, of course..."

"So let's make a pact," Ron shifted backwards so he could look down at her. "Whatever happens, we'll always have tonight, right? To remember each other by?"

"Ron, what are you going on about..."

"Just promise me," Ron demanded, squeezing her close to him with almost painful intensity.

"Of course," Hermione choked out. She really didn't like that Ron was insinuating that their time together was suddenly severely limited. "I'll always remember tonight, you know that."

"And you'll remember me exactly like this?" Ron continued determinedly.

"Of course," Hermione brought up a hand to trace the curve of his strong jaw. "I wouldn't want to remember you any other way,"

"Because this is me," he said softly after a moment while catching her hand stroking his face with his own. "You're the only one who knows me, you know that, right?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Because you're the only one who knows me."

Ron dropped her hand so he could wrap his arms even more tightly around her. "Come what may," he repeated for himself as much as for Hermione's sake, "no one will take tonight away from us."

"No one," Hermione pledged in a whisper before his lips crashed down on hers again, sealing their pact in yet another jaw-dropping, heart-stopping, mind-blowing kiss.