I got this idea last night and wrote it today after work. I'm still working on I Knew Love Once but I love Ron and Hermione and thought I'd take a chance at writing something pretty fluffy about them. Let me know how you feel about it; I'm still not used to writing HP fanfics.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.



"I told him that job was dangerous."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to see Harry standing in the doorway to Ron's private room at St. Mungo's. "I'm very angry with you right now, Harry."

"Me?" he asked, stepping inside and closing the door. "What did I do?"

"You were supposed to take that mission," she whispered, turning her attention back to Ron. "Kingsley told me when they brought him in. Why didn't you go?"

Harry's face fell; she was right. "Ron asked me for it."

"What?" she choked. Tears were silently falling down her cheeks. "Why would he do that?"

"It was big," Harry shrugged. "He wanted to prove himself in the department."

"Why would you let him do that?!" she cried. "He's been out of training for three weeks and he's sent to bring in Augustus Rookwood?"

"Rookwood killed his brother, Hermione," Harry murmured quietly. "I think Ron wanted justice brought to him."

"Oh, justice!" she exclaimed, standing up to pace. "Look at him, Harry! He's on the brink of death right now so excuse me if I don't give a damn about justice!"

Harry was silent. He wasn't even sure if Ron and Hermione were an official couple and yet, here she was, seemingly devastated by Ron's injury. "If it's any consolation, he did catch Rookwood."

"He was tortured for hours," Hermione sobbed. "Hours, Harry. He only caught him when two other Auror's showed up." She let out a long sigh. "What if he doesn't recover? The healers aren't exactly hopeful. His parents are beside themselves. Can you imagine losing two children in a matter of two years?"

"No, I can't," Harry shook his head. "But Ron will be all right, I know it."

"I don't," Hermione whispered. "I wish I did but I don't."

The next two days were a blur for Hermione. She called into work at the Ministry. The Weasley's were in and out all day, leaving her alone with him at night. She didn't sleep, not even for five minutes. She was afraid that if she slept, Ron would wake up and she wouldn't be there for him. Instead, she found things to keep herself busy. She did paperwork, wrote letters to her parents, read Hogwarts, A History for the forty-second time.

"Hermione, you really should sleep, dear," Molly told her softly on Ron's third morning of unconsciousness. "Even if only for thirty minutes."

"I can't," Hermione whispered, staring down at the boy lying in bed. "I'm afraid."

Molly patted the girl's back. "If he wakes up, or even stirs, I'll wake you immediately."

Hermione shook her head. "Thanks, but no."

"All right," Molly sighed, setting a picnic basket on a table near the corner. "There's food in here for you. I can't stand the thought of you eating dining hall food for every meal."

"Food," Hermione scoffed lightly. "I vaguely remember that."

Molly sat down next to her. "Hermione, I'm going to ask you something and I really hope you don't take offense because I assure you, it's not my intention." She took Hermione's hands. "Why are you here, dear? It's more than him being your best friend, isn't it? Because Harry's not here all day, every day."

"He's not just my best friend anymore," Hermione admitted softly, brushing Ron's hair out of his face. "He's kind of my everything. As much as I love Harry, I can't imagine my life without Ron. It's not something I'm even willing to consider." She closed her eyes. "I'm afraid I won't get the chance to tell him I love him."

"You will," Molly assured her, patting her cheek carefully. "He loves you, too. He may not have told you yet but it's true."

"I don't even need to hear him say it," Hermione stated. "I just need him to know its how I feel." She smiled half-heartedly. "Ronald Weasley is the love of my life."

"You know, I couldn't have dreamed of better for him," Molly grinned. "Not in a million years would I change one single thing about you."

"Thank you," Hermione accepted.

Molly stood up. "I'll leave you two now. You'll owl me if anything happens?"

"Of course," Hermione nodded.

"Goodbye, dear," Molly said, departing through the fireplace near the back of the room.

Hermione took Ron's hand. "Could you possibly just open your eyes for only a second? Or even just flutter them? Let me know you're all right, Ronald. I don't know who I am without you. Sure, people will say, 'Oh, you're Hermione Granger, war hero and right-hand to The Boy Who Lived.' None of that matters if your name isn't attached to mine." She sniffled. "This is the point where I begin to really hate myself for being so stubborn. When we kissed during the Battle two years ago, I was stupid enough to think it would be easy for us right after that. For the moment, I was clearly forgetting it was you and I." She chuckled. "Nothing is easy for us, is it?"

"No," Harry answered for his best friend from behind them. "And I expect it never will be."

Hermione dropped Ron's hand. "Don't do that, Harry. I'm in a precarious state right now." She glanced at the clock. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"No," he shook his head, sitting in the chair Molly had vacated. "I'm supposed to be here so you can sleep. I absolutely refuse to take no for an answer here, Hermione Jean. Ron won't want to wake up and see you like this."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to get an inter-department message while at work, telling me Ron was admitted to St. Mungo's," Hermione snapped as she re-arranged her messy ponytail. "Neither of us is very apt to giving the other what they want."

Harry took her hand to calm her. "Hermione, its okay to be upset."

"Upset?!" she repeated shrilly, standing to pace, a habit she'd picked up in the last several days. "You think I'm simply upset, Harry? I'm scared and sad and frustrated and empty and paranoid and fatigued. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to sleep for the rest of my life." She was sobbing again, another recent habit. "I want him to wake up so I can yell at him. I'm so angry with him. How dare he do this to me? How dare he take on such a big job to prove himself? Yeah, Rookwood murdered Fred and he deserves the worst kind of punishment for that, but it should've come from a practiced Auror, not a rookie looking for vengeance." She collapsed to the floor. "I'm just so exhausted and yet, the thought of sleep just makes me angrier than I already am. How can I even think of sleeping right now?"

"You need to," Harry stressed. "It's been three days and you've barely even blinked. I promise that should he wake up, I'll wake you up." He frowned. "Please, Hermione. I'll beg until you do it."

She closed her eyes to think and that action alone was nearly heavenly. "Fine," she finally relented. "You'll wake me if he so much as looks like he moves and do not let me rest more than thirty minutes."

Harry helped her to the spare bed in the room and tucked her in. "Sleep well, Hermione."

It had been fifteen minutes since his female best friend had fallen asleep that Harry thought he noticed Ron's eyelids move. He went to nudge Hermione.

"You wake her, I kill you."

Harry's head shot to Ron's face. "Ron?"

"No, it's the Bloody Baron," Ron deadpanned, finally opening his eyes. "What's the date?"

"June 3rd," Harry reported. "You've been out for three days, mate. We've all been worried sick." He glanced to Hermione. "This is the first time she's slept."

"She's mad," Ron said knowingly. "And I can't blame her. Why did I think it was smart to go after Rookwood?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head. "Even I was going to request help before you jumped in for the job."

Ron slowly turned to look at Hermione. "She hates me, huh?"

"Oh, I doubt it," Harry chuckled. "I know the time it takes for a message to leave our department for hers and the time it takes to Floo here. She did it in half that."

"I'm going to marry her, you know," Ron admitted softly, a smile playing on her lips. "In the two years since the Battle, we've barely so much as kissed a few times but I know. I think I've known since I was thirteen." His smile faltered. "I guess she could say no."

"Again, I doubt it," Harry laughed. "She'll one-up you, saying she's known since we were twelve and then you'll say eleven and she'll say before you two even met and you'll end with you knowing before you were born."

A lazy smile returned to on the Weasley's mouth. "Yeah, that's true. You think she knows I love her?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "You don't exactly do things to show her."

Ron frowned. "I guess I don't deserve her, you know? She's beautiful and brilliant and maddening and stubborn and charming and brave and ingenious. I'm just some git who bites off more than he can chew to prove himself to her."

"Wait, you went after Rookwood to prove yourself to Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well, yeah," Ron confirmed. "You've accomplished so much that standing next to you gets a little hard sometimes. I know you're in love with my sister and I know Hermione isn't in love with you but I guess I thought I needed to make absolutely sure."

"Ron, you've got to stop underestimating yourself," Harry advised. "Not once have I ever seen Hermione as anything more than the best sister a guy could ask for. And not once has she seen me are more than a best friend and brother. You, on the other hand, have been something much more than that since we were kids."

Ron shook his head. "I'm just so insecure when it comes to her."

"Don't be," Harry told him sincerely. "She loves you, mate."

A corner of Ron's mouth turned upwards. "That's nice to know but I'd prefer to hear it from her."

"You know, you've been awake a full ten minutes now," Harry noticed. "Are you sure I can't wake her?"

"All right, but I'm going to pretend like I'm just waking up," Ron decided. "No point in having her any angrier than she already is."

Harry rolled his eyes and Ron settled back in to look as though he was still knocked out. He took a deep breath and nudged Hermione.

"Is he awake?" she asked frantically, sitting upright. She lunged out of her bed and reclaimed her seat next to Ron. "Ronald?"

"Hermione," he breathed, his voice sounding significantly raspier than Harry had just heard.

"Oh!" she gasped as tears started falling again. "I'm so glad you're awake."

"Hermione," he repeated with more strength to his voice. "You're here."

"Of course I am," she smiled softly. "Where else would I be?"

"Planning ways to kill me yourself," he answered. "I'm a right git and I know it."

She shook her head. "No, Ron, you're not. Irresponsible and immature, but not a git. A git wouldn't have woken up to give me the chance to tell him that I love him."

"Yeah?" he nodded hopefully. "Well, this non-git loves you, too."

Harry looked away as Ron leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead in the most loving manner he could muster, due to his injuries.

"You can look now," Hermione smirked a moment later. "Actually, could you owl his family?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, happy to give them a few moments alone. "I'll be back soon."

Once Harry was gone, Hermione turned her attention back to Ron. "So you think you're going to marry me, eh?"

His face fell. "You heard that? You were sleeping!"

"Please," she scoffed lightly. "Like I said, I couldn't sleep without knowing you were okay. And then once I finally heard your voice, I didn't want to give that up. It was as if I'd never heard it before."

"I wasn't joking, you know," he murmured. "I want you to marry me, Hermione."

"It's a discussion to have in a few years," she nodded.

"No, now," he corrected. "If this mess, along with that one time we were on the run trying to kill Voldemort, has taught me anything, it's that there's no time to waste, Mione. I want to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night."

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll marry you anytime, Ron Weasley."

"Is that a promise?" he asked, leaning over to kiss her.

Hermione laughed. "In your case, it might be a threat."