A/N: This is my first fanfic I posted here. It's a one-shot, with - well, I guess you could call it 'tragic' fluff. This is not a deathfic, for all you who may be wondering. Please keep in mind I didn't write this to be a masterpiece, it's just something I wrote for fun, while I was waiting for my beta to return the first chapter of a multi-chaptered fic I'll be putting up soon.

Also note, as it may get confusing, that this switches between the point of view of Ron and Hermione. There are three spaces between the switching of POV, so you should be able to tell one from the other. Enjoy! :)

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"What's wrong with her?" a frantic voice demanded. The flaming red hair of Ron Weasley, freckles dancing upon his face in worry, pushed all others aside to get inside the ward. A stout woman with gray hairs, a mediwitch, tried to block his path.

"No visitors allowed!" she called to him, but Ron pushed forward, ignoring her pleas. Pushing through the crowds of crying family and those injured in the Final Battle, Ron desperately searched every bed in every ward, searching for her. He had to find her; to make sure she was okay, and to asure her that everything would be alright. What he would do if he could never find her, he didn't know; many bodies were not found, nor were they ever going to be. He hoped against fate that Hermione wasn't among them.

But there she was; he could recognizer her bushy hair and torn school uniform from any distance, no matter how mangled she looked or how much blood soaked the sheets in which she lie. Pale as the moon, the loss of so much blood seemed to have a great impact on her fragile body; Ron, who thusfar had not shed a single tear, choked out a sob at the condition in which he found Hermione in.

Hermione. Hermione, whom he had always held the greatest admiration and compassion for. One of his best friends; one of the best he'd ever have, he knew. Hermione, who only a few hours ago had been smiling sheepishly at him when he, Ron, had told her that he didn't know what he'd do without her. His Hermione. Where had those hours gone? The entirety of the Final Battle was hazy and foggy in his mind, but what could one expect from such a horrible experience?

Words held no meaning for Ron, presently, as he kneeled next to her limp body, looking her up and down. From the gash across her legs, to the bloody mess of her hair sustained from head injuries, Ron knew that he shouldn't give up hope no matter how bad Hermione looked. Swallowing all of his pride, he broke down in sobs, becoming increasingly unaware of all around him. "Hermione," he whispered repeatedly to the unmoving body he cried for, "Hermione...."



She was swallowed in darkness, unable to move or see around her. The pressure upon her lungs was almost unbearable, and her breathing very shallow. With every intake of break, a sharp pain seized her entire body, and she unconsciously shook in the terrible pain that overtook her. Hermione was unaware of where she was, nor did she seem to care; all she could concentrate on was the burden of pain and the vague sense of sobbing to her side.

That voice...she recognized that voice. It filled her entire mind, that one hazy word that she heard repeated - but she couldn't hear it properly, nor understand it. It seemed beyond her reach, beyond her understanding. But oh, how desperately she wanted to hear that voice properly, to see the face of who spoke that one word! She wanted nothing more to console the unidentified source of the sobbing, but it seemed an impossible task.

Struggling against the invisible force that bound her to the depths of her mind, her senses seemed to sharpen ever-so-slightly, just enough. She now recognized the voice, could hear it clearly. Ron! her mind cried out, desperate to let him know that she was there, she was with him. That he had no need to cry anymore; she was here, and all would be alright. Despite her efforts, she could do nothing more to her advantage.



"Hermione," croaked Ron, taking his hand in hers. "It'll be alright, it'll be fine. Y-you'll see; everything will be a-alright, and w-we'll be out of here as soon as p-possible." His speaking to her seemed fruitless, as no indication as to whether or not she could hear him was made. He continued on, hoping that his attempt would draw the line between the outcome of the situation. His voice became steadier with the thought that this would turn out alright, that everything really would be okay. "It's o-ver, Hermione. V-Voldemort is gone, Harry defeated him. I said his n-name, see? It'll all be alright." Ron ceased speaking, to gather himself. His eyes closed tight, he unwillingly allowed his thoughts to trail back to the hazy memories of the past hours.

Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts. Before anyone even realised, the Final Battle was already underway. Ron found himself alone, both Harry and Hermione had departed his side. But Ron made no move - frozen with fear, it seemed almost impossible. Fighting against his fears, however, he ploughed on after them, ready to do whatever it took to help set things right. Ron knew, even though he had not seen Harry do so, had gone off in search for Voldemort - Harry realised what was happening, and what it meant. He knew that the time had come for the Prophecy to be fulfilled. Hermione - well, he had no clue where she went off to. Suspicion told him that she was in the middle of the raging crowd of wizards and witches, fighting among them, to the best of her ability.

Ron admired Harry's courage. How he must have felt walking straight into the deciding event in his life - what would end in either his death, or not - Ron had no idea. But to have done so without any apparent fear, to do so, knowing that no matter how it ended, it would be an attempt to help his fellow man - Ron had decidedly figured out that he would never have been able to do so himself. But even though it did not end entirely in his favour - for Harry, too, had been killed in the struggle, Ron later found out. What he did would be remembered by the entire Wizarding World. It would be remembered that one courageous boy - not 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' or 'The-Chosen-One' - had saved the entire Wizarding World - not because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to.

And then there was Hermione. Hermione - well, his admiration for her was much different. It's was much more than admiration, really, but Ron had never told Hermione this. He planned to, someday, but just never found the right moment, and could never pluck up the courage to do so. Sure, she could act like a know-it-all at times, but it was only rightly so. As much as they had bickered and fought, Ron never lost his 'admiration' for her.

"Hermione, there's so much more to live for. Please...don't... It'll be alright, y-you just need to wake up, okay? Hermione, please wake up...."



A light in the overwhelming darkness began to glow brilliantly in front of Hermione's eyes. Her pain was decreasing, and she no longer had to fight it as strongly. Gradually, a hazy view of her surroundings came into her vision, and she could move her head. She could hear his words clearly now. He was begging her to wake up, telling her that it would be alright. What did he mean? Of course she was alright - he was the one crying, wasn't he? As much as she wanted to tell him that she was alright, speech was something she couldn't manage yet.

His crying continued. To hear Ron cry like this, it was more unbearable than any physical pain she could endure. Why on Earth was he crying so? Aware that his hand was touching hers, and the soft circular motion his thumb was making on the top of her hand, Hermione forced all her concentration into gripping his hand in return. Her hand clenched and unclenched, and she could no longer hear Ron crying.



A light tap on the shoulder was enough to stir Ron from his thoughts. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he turned to find a mediwitch hovering above him. Her stress seemed to be getting the best of her, as her hair had fallen out of it's once-tight bun, and was in wisps framing her face. "I'll be checking on this one," she said, nodding at Hermione. She made her way around the edge of the bed, and began poking and prodding Hermione with her wand. Every now and then, sparks would fly from her wand, and a 'Hmm' or 'Mmm' would escape her lips. Ron watched in silence as the woman did her job, but never once let go of Hermione's hand.

"Do you know this young lady?" she asked a startled Ron. He nodded slowly in reply. "Would you mind telling me her name?"

"Hermione Granger," Ron said, his eyes darting to her face, and back to the woman. She marked something down on a clipboard she held in her right hand.

"She isn't doing too well," she explained. "There's nothing we can do."

"What do you mean, there's nothing you can do?" Ron asked hastily. "Of course there is, you have magic, now use it!" There has to be something they could do, Ron told himself. There has to be...

"No, I'm afraid not. If she had been brought in a little sooner, maybe," the woman wore a grim face. "It's up to her, now." Without a single glance at Ron, she turned on her heel and went over to the next patient. Hot, fresh tears spilled from Ron's eyes, and he could do nothing to stop them.



Hermione could now hear another voice, the voice of a woman she did not recognize. Something jabbed her, with what she assumed to be a wand, but she could do nothing to stop the wretched poking that distracted her from focusing on Ron. The woman was speaking to Ron now. Was it about her? What did she mean, that I'm not doing well? Hermione felt her heart beat speed up. What was wrong with her? She felt perfectly fine, apart from the pain she felt earlier, but that was gone now.

It's up to her, now. Hermione heard these words, but could not comprehend them. She tried to think, to understand - but it only caused her pain. The distand sound of crying resumed, echoing in her ears. It's up to me now, Hermione thought, though she didn't understand. It's up to me now....

Images flashed in her mind, things she could remember from her past. The passed in a blur, and she barely had a glimpse of the images, yet she could amazingly remember each as if she had spent an eternity gazing at every one of them. Her energy was focused on the images, and before she knew it, she felt hot tears streaking down the sides of her cheeks. What was this? Was she seeing her life literally flash before her eyes? Yes, that must be it. But why? She couldn't possibly be dying, could she?

No! he mind cried out into the darkness that closed in on her once again. I have so much to live for, so much that I haven't done. So many things I never got the chance to say or do! I can't be... Pain once again flooded over her body, and her sense of hearing slid in and out of focus. She felt she could do nothing to stop it, but wanted to stop it so badly.



"Hermione, d-did you hear that? It's up t-to you now," Ron said, reaching up so that her hand was locked between both of his. "Please, Hermione, you're stronger than this...I know you are...." He wasn't going to loser her; he couldn't. Losing Harry had been enough, but to lose Hermione would rip him of all that he had left. He would be an empty shell if Hermione was taken from him. "You've fought so much, Hermione. J-just...fight a little longer, okay? I've lost Harry already...please, don't let me lose you, too."
He sat in silence a few moments more, waiting for a ray of light to show him the way. But it did not come; against his will, his mind wandered to the ever-looming threat of Hermione's death.

"You don't have to worry, Hermione; I know it'll be alright. Just p-please...wake up. If you can't do it for me, do it for Harry. H-he'd...he'd have wanted to to live," Ron said, leaning forward so that he could press their entwined hands to his eyes.



Through the pain, Hermione could feel something pressed up against her hand. She could hear pieces of what Ron was saying, but merely pieces. He said something about Harry...and losing him? No, that can't mean what she thought it was. They hadn't lost Harry. Ron must not be able to see him, that's all. She tried to convince herself of this, but Hermione could sense the truth behind what she was saying. More hot tear spilled from her unwilling eyes.


"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now, Hermione," Ron continued. "I honestly don't. I've said it before, and it's true. So please, don't do this. You're strong, and I know you have the will to survive no matter what. " He paused again, taking time to just gaze into her face. "Hermione," Ron said suddenly, decidedly. "We've bickered alot in the past, and well...I just want to...say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all those times I may have hurt you." If he had to say a farewell, he might as well start it off right. This was his last chance to apologize. "I really shouldn't have. I'm sorry. But you need to do something for me, okay?" He detached one of his hands from hers, and pushed a fallen lock of hair from her eyes. "Don't give up. Please, keep on trying. I'd...I'd give anything to be in your place now, just as long as you lived...I'd be happy." He broke out in a watery smile as he looked down at her delicate face. "If you deserve anything, it's to live. Please...do it for Harry, for your family. For me."



A warm glow seemed to surround Hermione; the pain was receeding once again, and her hearing was clear once more. Ron's voice filled her ears, and nothing else seemed to matter - he was speaking to her, and her alone, and she wanted to hear every word of it. Perhaps it was this desire that had fought away the pain, the darkness - she wasn't sure. All she knew, was that Ron was speaking to her, and she wanted to hear desperately, and it had given her hope. Warmth. A warmth she had never felt before. What was it?



"But..that's not all. There's so much more I could say to you, that I want to say," he searched her face for a sign that she was listening. "Hermione...you're beautiful, you know that? I never told you before, but you are." His eyes were brimmed with tears again, and one dropped down to her face. Gently wiping it away, he whispered, "I love you," and kissed her lightly on the brow. He buried his face once more into her side. He knew that she would never be able to answer his question; he had now lost all hope that he had previously held.



All of the darkness was disappearing, and her body lost all the numbness it once held. Had my body been numb that entire time? Every ounce of pain had left her, and her senses were coming back to her. She was completely aware of all the sound around her, all feeling returned to her body. By feeling alone, she knew her body was getting warmer, and her eyes flickered. Ron's voice was clearest of all, and she heard his every word better than she had ever heard anything in her life. Her eyes slowly opened up completely as she heard something whispered into her ear, and someone, who she knew was Ron, kiss her brow. She mouthed wordlessly for a few moments, but then -




"R-ron?"