Proving Himself Worthy

Chapter 1

The bitter night air nipped at Hermione's rosy cheeks, and she cursed herself for not remembering to bring an extra jumper or another blanket out for her watch. The cold locket clicked and twitched on her chest and she felt as empty as ever.

Where the locket made Harry and Ron temperamental, Hermione always felt miserable and depressed. She constantly saw her parents' faces whenever she wore the locket, and those were the malicious, angry faces she saw now as she gazed into the dwindling fire in front of her.

A round of unwelcomed tears crept down her face and she became angry at herself for being so stupid. Your parents don't want to see you again, a terrifyingly familiar voice rang inside her head. They're happier without you, don't even remember you. You were always a strange child to them, always disgracing them. They never understood you. You we—

"Hermione?" a soft voice called from behind. She turned at the sound of her name, and saw Ron standing in the entrance of the tent, his expression looking somewhat guilty. She quickly realized she had been crying, and hastily wiped away the wetness that lingered on her blotchy face.

"Are you alright?" he asked rather timidly, and he looked afraid to approach her. She nodded and patted the dry patch of ground next to her, signaling for him to sit. He complied and made himself comfortable underneath a tethered brown blanket. "You look cold. Do you want to share?" he asked, lifting his left arm and inviting her to join him beneath his blanket. She didn't answer, just slid close to him and wrapped herself up in his blanket.

Although she would never admit this to anyone, she enjoyed just sitting there in Ron's firm yet gentle grasp. Despite the chill in the air, he felt rather pleasant, offering a sense of warmth that the dead fire could not have provided. As she grew steadily warmer, she could feel the tension in her muscles dissipating. She felt a headache she didn't even know she had disappear, and she felt slightly better - physically and emotionally – than she had before.

Ron hesitated for a moment as if he were deciding whether or not he should say something, then, against Hermione's expectations, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. "You were just crying," he said. It wasn't a question; he had clearly seen her, and she knew there was no way for her to deny it. As quickly as the tension had been relieved, it found its way back into her body again.

"Yeah," she finally said, drawing back a little and looking down at what was left of the fire.

"Do you - er - want to talk about it?" he asked imploringly.

"You wouldn't understand," she replied.

"You're probably right," he said.

She knew she was acting crazy. This was Ron, her best friend – if not admittedly more – of seven years. Who knew her better now that her parents had no knowledge of who she was or that she even existed? Who of all people that she had left did she trust the most? And who did she know for sure would always be close by if she ever needed him? Ron, of course.

She let out a deep breath and, against better judgment, let out the only two words that would escape. "My … parents…" she cried, looking down at the ground.

"Have the most amazing, brilliant, and intelligent daughter in the entire world, and should be incredibly proud of how brave and loyal she is," he finished.

"They don't even know who I am, Ron!" she responded, trying to stop the tears that were already making their way down her face. "I have no one left anymore."

He paused for a moment and brought his hand up to brush away some of her hair. "When this is all over," he said, looking into her eyes, "we're going to Australia. Just, uh, you and me, if you want. We can find them and set them right again. I promise, Hermione. You will have your parents back."

Hermione couldn't respond for the sobs that now left her body. Ron pulled her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She didn't know why she had become so emotional lately. It baffled her beyond all reason. She was Hermione Granger; she had always been in control of her emotions. Most of the time. Right? Well, except maybe around Ron, she thought. Perhaps that was why. Or perhaps it was because she was wearing a part of Voldemort's soul around her neck. Or maybe it was the fact of whether or not she would ever make it past all this to ever see her parents again remained uncertain.

"Hermione?" Ron asked quietly, interrupting her thoughts. The tips of his ears had turned the color of his hair.

"Yes?" she replied, looking up at him.

"You do know that you're not alone. You do have people left that care for you. You know, Harry," he paused. "And me," he added quietly, after a moment or two.

"Thank you, Ron. You don't know how much that means to me," she replied weakly. Suddenly, Hermione let out a loud sneeze and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jumper.

"You sound like you're not feeling well," he said, looking a bit concerned.

"Don't worry," she smiled faintly. "It's probably just allergies."

Ron brought his hand up to feel her forehead. "Blimey, Hermione. How can your forehead be scorching as cold as it is out here?" He withdrew his hand from her forehead and removed his burgundy jumper with the golden "R" knitted on the front. "Here, put this on," he offered.

"Ron, you're going to freeze. I-"

"Put it on, Hermione. You look terribly pale. You're obviously not well," he said. Hermione could tell there was no stopping him, so she obeyed and pulled the warm jumper over her head. She breathed in and she was delighted to find that it smelled just like him.

"Now, come on, let's get inside," he said standing up and offering her his hand.

"Ron-, "she tried.

"No. Come on, Hermione."

She grasped onto his hand, and he pulled her up, bringing her inside the slightly warmer tent. He walked her over to her bunk and turned her around to face him. He extended his arm out towards her until his fingers found the clasp on the locket, and smoothly unfastened the hateful object from her neck.

Wow, that feels loads better, she thought with half a smile. After he had placed the Horcrux around his own neck, he stepped forward and smoothed the strands of bushy hair out of her eyes. He proceeded to lay her down gently, draping both of their blankets across her now slightly trembling frame.

She all of a sudden felt very queasy and lightheaded. Perhaps Ron is right, she thought. Maybe I'm not feeling well after all. She groaned, sitting up and clasping her hands over her mouth.

She watched as Ron transfigured the nearest plate into a rubbish bin just in time. As she was emptying her stomach of any and all nourishment she had eaten lately, she felt Ron sit down next to her and pull her hair back with his hands.

In spite of how bad she was feeling, she felt an unexpected surge of affection for the red-headed man so tenderly caring for her. If she were not currently hurling her sick all over him, she might have thanked him.

Once there was nothing left for her to heave, Ron lay her back down slowly, replacing the blankets over her figure. She watched as he found a nearby wash rag and placed it on her forehead. He then took out his wand and began to clean up the vomit that stained her chin and her clothing. Once he seemed satisfied, he turned to her, reaching out his hand to smooth down her matted hair once more. At his touch, she felt her eyes give way to her undeniable exhaustion. Hermione felt more tired than she had in a long time. She could not remember the last time she felt this bad.

Ron's gentle stroking on her cheeks and forehead was rapidly relaxing her. The last voice she heard was Ron's, who muttered a warming charm around her bunk. She could have sworn she felt nearly restored after that, despite her fatigue.

As he pressed the warm cloth more firmly to her head, she felt her mind hushing. "Goodnight, love," Ron murmured, almost too quietly, as if no one was meant to hear it. But she did, and that was all she needed tonight. And with that, she surrendered to sleep peacefully.

A/N: Okay, so that was my first ever fanfic, and I'm incredibly worried what everyone will think. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did it dramatically alter your life? Did it make you vomit? Let me know! R&R please!