Thank you very much to all those who encouraged me to write this. I hope you won't be disappointed! And thanks to JK for everything, including the lines I pilfered! Right..on with the show then...

For Kaccie. Fingers crossed

Choke or Hermione the Harrowed.

Hermione Granger sat at the breakfast table with Neville Longbottom. She was trying to concentrate on the new book she'd just received by owl post, but her mind kept straying to the words she'd heard from a certain Miss Lavender Brown.

She wished she hadn't woken up so early this Saturday. She'd known full well what the date was, after all. Saturday the first of March. Just like a regular Saturday, except it wasn't. It was Ronald Weasley's birthday; and not just any birthday, but his seventeenth.

She had lain in bed listening to the birds outside when she'd heard her dorm mates start whispering. She clearly heard the name Won Won and she couldn't help but lie still and listen intently.

'Are you sure you're going to give it to him?' whispered Parvati Patil.

'Well, it is his seventeenth, isn't it? Technically he's a man today. So why not make sure of it,' breathed Lavender.

Hermione tried hard not to choke on her held breath.

'Besides, I'm not going to give it all up. Just want to give him a peak, you know.'

'Well, it's a nice gesture, I suppose,' nodded Parvati. 'As long as you're sure.'

'Of course I'm sure. He's so adorable and such a good kisser too. It's the least I can do on his birthday.'

Hermione bristled. For years she had thought Ron was adorable. She resented the fact that half the female school body had just realized this fact.

'Where are you going to take him?' asked Parvati. 'And what one's are you going to wear? The lacy ones?'

That's it, thought Hermione. I can't lie in bed and listen to Lavender planning to flash Ron her over-developed chest.

She got out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown and headed for the showers without a word to the other girls. The shower made her feel a bit calmer, though not much was going to improve her irritable mood.

What does Ron see in her anyway? She's vacant, gorgeous and has long silky hair, and she's nothing like me, perhaps that's the appeal, she added glumly.

She slunk down to breakfast, wishing to avoid Ron and Harry who usually came down the boy's staircase at about this time, but there was only Neville descending the stairs. She noticed Lavender waiting at the bottom of the staircase and scowled, accidentally bumping into Neville as he reached the bottom.

'Oh, I'm sorry, Neville,' she said, helping the clumsy boy to his feet. 'I wasn't really looking where I was going.'

'It's OK,' Neville smiled shyly. 'Happens to me all the time.'

Hermione and Neville enjoyed their long leisurely breakfast, Hermione poring over her book, and Neville reading a long letter that his grandmother had sent him. They chatted intermittently about school and teachers and the coming Quidditch match.

Hermione cringed inside to see Lavender and Parvati entering the room, still gossiping about 'Won Won'. They sat opposite Neville and continued talking. There was a change in their tone, Hermione noted. In fact, Lavender looked pretty upset.

'It's OK, love,' Parvati cooed when Lavender burst into tears after pouring a goblet of pumpkin juice.

'It's the same colour as his hair,' she blubbered.

Hermione and Neville exchanged looks.

'Is, err, everything all right?' ventured Neville.

'That prat friend of yours,' spat Parvati acidly, 'just upset Lavender.'

Hermione grinned internally. Then felt guilty about it.

'He told me to get lost!' wailed Lavender.

'Oh... I'm sorry,' Neville said awkwardly, clearly out of his depth.

'And then he said he was looking for Romilda Vane.' Lavender dissolved into tears once more. Parvati patted her back, whilst shooting daggers at Hermione as if she was responsible for keeping her friends in line.

'Romilda Vane?' Hermione asked the table at large. 'Where've I heard that name before?'

Neville looked thoughtful for a second then said, 'I think Luna told me about her. She was trying to give Harry chocolate cauldrons full of love potion or something, I think.'

'I wonder if Ron ate some of Harry's chocolates then?' said Parvati reasonably. 'I've seen the way that boy eats. He inhales it all without even looking at it.'

Hermione hated to admit it, but she thought Parvati was probably quite right. She had merely hoped that Ron had woken up this morning and realized that he couldn't bear to spend his life being called Won Won.

'You're probably right,' conceded Hermione reluctantly.

'I wonder what he's going to do?' asked Neville with his jaw slack. 'My Gran's told me some pretty horrible stories about people who are put under love potions.'

'Why, what happens?' Parvati asked.

'Well, they do all sorts of crazy things,' Neville continued, 'like jump off bridges, give all their money away...'

'No problems there,' said Parvati rudely. She seemed to have taken on her sister's grudge against Ron from the Yule Ball years before.

'Also,' Hermione added, 'they are prone to public declarations of love.'

Lavender sobbed even harder. 'But he's my boyfriend!'

Neville turned to Hermione and asked, 'What do you think Ron's capable of?'

Hermione thought for a minute. After years of knowing Ron Weasley he still surprised her. She could imagine him giving what money he had away in a gesture of love for the world to see, the Weasley's were very giving people after all. She could imagine him dejected enough to do something drastic, though perhaps not committing suicide. Public declarations of love? Well, that was unchartered territory, though he had no qualms about joking around and making snide comments about students, teachers and subjects in class. He was used to making a fool of himself for the sake of a laugh. What would he do for love, even if it wasn't real?

'I'm not sure, Neville. He's capable of anything.'

She saw Neville's eyes widen. 'Right then. We have to find him. I'd feel awful if I told the person I, umm...' he trailed off, bright pink.

Hermione spared him an uncomfortable silence by continuing. 'Right, I'll find Harry. He was last seen with Harry, right?'

'That's right,' sniffed Lavender.

'And Neville, you go find Luna and Ginny and tell them what happened. I think Romilda's in their year and they might have a good idea of where she'd be.'

'Right,' said Neville, obviously grateful for the orders. He leapt to his feet, knocking a goblet of pumpkin juice onto the floor. 'Oops, sorry,' he said sheepishly before rushing out of the hall.

OK, thought Hermione, as she used a cleansing charm to clean the floor and bench of juice. If I was Ron and obsessed with a girl, where would I go? This line of thinking didn't work too well, as it was clouded with thoughts of herself tenderly kissing Ron in various places about school. She shook her head to clear her mind of the images. She tried again; where does Harry spend most of his time when there's trouble? There's Snape's dungeon, she counted on her finger silently, ignoring Lavender's laments about her missing Won Won. Then there's Dumbledore's office, he's been going there a lot lately, but I'm sure he wouldn't take Ron there. And it struck her. The Hospital Wing. She jumped to her feet, and ran out the hall, ignoring Draco Malfoy's yell of 'knickers on fire, Granger?'

Hermione hurried towards the hospital wing with visions of Ron with a black eye or a hand mark on his face from confessing his love to Romilda Vane. When she reached the big double doors she found only one person. A person with, oddly enough, a bruise on his ear.

'Harry, where is he; what has he done?' she gasped, catching her breath.

Harry turned from the doors to face her. 'Done?'

'Neville and I figured out he'd been dosed with love potion, and I thought you'd drag him here. He didn't do anything too bad, did he, Harry?'

Harry pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His ear and jaw looked quite nasty, Hermione thought. He also looked very serious. She braced herself for the worst. Had he gone down on one knee and proposed? Had he got the Hogwart's House Elves to make a cake he could spring and surprise Romilda from?

'Hermione, I don't want to upset or anything,' Harry began, his hands moving to her shoulders, 'but Ron's been poisoned.'

'What? Did Romilda mix her potion wrong? Love Potions can be quite tricky to do...'

'No, Hermione. He's been poisoned. Properly poisoned.'

Hermione was stunned. Harry squeezed her shoulders bracingly as she drew her hands over her mouth in horror.

'Poisoned?' she repeated. Horrifying visions of Ron lying pale and still erupted into her brain. 'Is he all right, Harry? Have you seen him?' she asked urgently.

'I was there when it happened, and I got a bezoar down his throat pretty quick,' Harry said, pulling his hands away from her shaking shoulders. 'Ron's tough, he'll be OK, I'm sure,' he finished, rubbing his bruised jaw.

'What sort of state is he in? Is he awake? Who's in there with him?'

'Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.' Harry said, turning back to the doors.

'Harry?'

Harry sighed and turned to face her. 'He was unconscious, Hermione. He was all flailing and jerking, and then he became sort of unconscious.'

Hermione felt felt reason and self-control being ripped out of her, and she found herself banging on the double doors frantically.

'Hermione, settle down,' urged Harry, pulling her away. 'He'll be OK, you know. Madam Pomfrey can fix anyone.'

'What if she can't?' she whispered, afraid her question would make it true.

Harry looked stumped, and Hermione felt awful for even putting the question to him. It had obviously never crossed his mind, or he had managed to keep the question at bay.

The double doors opened, interrupting their moment of silence, and Madam Pomfrey poked her head through.

'I told you, Potter, that I'd come tell you how he was after I'd checked him out.'

'Sorry, Madam Pomfrey,' said Harry quietly.

'Actually, it was me, Madam Pomfrey,' said Hermione in a confident voice. 'I'd like to see Ronald, please.'

'I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. He's not fit for visitors just now, though I'm quite sure he'll be fine by this evening. Now, if you'd both go away and get on with your Saturday. You may come back and see him after dinner.'

Hermione chose to ignore her. She had to see him. 'What are his symptoms?' she asked, squeezing around the school nurse to catch a glimpse of Ron.

'I think Madam Pomfrey is quite correct, Miss Granger,' spoke the soft voice of Albus Dumbledore who appeared in the gap Hermione was trying to sneak through. 'Rest assured , Madam Pomfrey will have Mr. Weasley fit and well in no time, but for now he is in what Muggles call a 'coma.' It would be best if you just let him rest for now.'

He shooed Harry and Hermione away from the door and left for his office. Madam Pomfrey closed the double doors. Harry leant against the wall and slumped down onto the floor into a cross-legged position.

Dumbledore's words soothed her anxiety and gave her something to puzzle over. Comas. She knew the basics from reading articles in a medical journal her parents had at home. All she needed to do was research the finer points in the library.

'I'll be back soon, Harry,' she told him, hurrying off to the library. It wasn't until she was nearly half-way there that she realized that there would be nothing on Muggle medicine in the Wizarding School's library. She immediately felt lost and alone. The library had never failed her before.

She sat crumpled at the bottom of the staircase and burst into tears.

Not Ron, she thought. He can be a prat, but he doesn't deserve this. And he can't die. He can't leave me. The tears ran down her face, each drop chasing the one before it down her cheeks. Who would poison Ronald Weasley? He's such a good, kind, wonderful person. Who'd want to kill him?

The more she pondered the unanswerable the more distressed she became. Eventually a friendly voice behind her jogged her out of her misery.

'Are you OK, Miss Granger? Not boy trouble, I hope,' said Nearly Headless Nick as he moved up through the floor in front of her. 'It's such a beautiful day out,' he continued. 'A young living person like yourself should be out enjoying it.'

'Hello Sir Nicholas,' Hermione said, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the backs of her hands. 'I'm OK. Just had some bad news, that's all.'

'Anything I can do?' Nearly Headless Nick asked worriedly, his head wobbling on his neck.

'No, Sir Nicholas; thanks. But I'd better get going,' she said. She suddenly realized she'd left Harry all alone.

When she returned to the Hospital Wing she saw that Harry had been joined by Neville, Luna Lovegood and a tearful Ginny Weasley. No one was speaking. She sat down next to Harry and waited patiently.

After a couple of hours, Neville and Luna decided to get a late lunch and left with their best wishes to pass on to Ron. Hermione leaned against Harry's back and he hers. Ginny sat on Harry's other side, and the two of them began an almost obsessive discussion as to how Ron had been poisoned. Hermione had no desire to join in the conversation but found a certain amount of strength in their camaraderie.

Finally eight o'clock came around and the double doors inched open. Madam Pomfrey gave them the all clear to enter, telling them that Ron was still in a coma state, but had a clear bill of health.

Hermione stood in the doorway, watching Harry and Ginny approach the bedside. She saw the prostrate form of Ron on his hospital bed. He looked terribly thin and pale.

'Oi, you lot!' shouted a loud voice.

'Where is he?' yelled a second equally loud voice as George Weasley's head, followed by the rest of him, entered the room in a rush.

'We only just heard!' said Fred, panting from exertion.

'Err, he doesn't look too hot, does he?' said George quietly.

'He's all right,' Ginny sniffed, tears welling again in her eyes when faced with her twin brothers. 'Or he will be.'

'That's good,' breathed George, relieved. 'I mean, I've wanted to poison the git for years, but I would never allow anyone else to do it!'

'Who but his dear siblings would know how truly annoying Ron can be? We'd deserve a good chance to poison him. No one else has the right.' Agreed Fred, hugging his little sister.

The twins explained how they had been in Hogsmeade to surprise Ron for his birthday. Harry then proceded to tell the story, once more, of how Ron had been poisoned after consuming Romilda Vane's love potion. He sounded rather practiced, Hermione thought. He'd obviously been through it with Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Ginny, Neville and Luna and now Fred, George and herself.

They stood and talked quietly. It seemed a lot easier now that Fred and George were there, though for her part Hermione just kept quiet and stood away from the others, furthest away from Ron, sniffling occasionally.

His face was a strange pallid colour and he was sweaty, with his hair stuck to his forehead. He was shirtless under the sheets that had been drawn up over his chest, and a strange smell came from whatever ointment Madam Pomfrey had slathered him in. His freckles stood out of his pale face as if someone had dotted his face with a marker pen.

She just watched his face for signs of something reassuring as she kept her ear tuned to the conversation about what had occurred and what Slughorn had to do with it all.

'The poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well,' she said petulanty for the first time in hours in response to something Ginny had said about Slughorn planning to give the offending beverage to Dumbledore for Christmas. The others looked sharply at her as she spoke, as if they had forgotten she was there at all. 'Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself.'

'Er-my-nee.'

Hermione jumped, and turned to the boy who had spoken. Had he just said her name? He mumbled something else, but she couldn't catch what it was. Neither could anyone else judging by their looks of interest. Then Ron let out a snore and dropped into a leisurely pace of serene snoring.

It can't have been my name, Hermione mulled over as she and Harry sat at supper later that evening. Neither of them spoke. They had left the Hospital Wing to the Weasley family in order to spend some quiet time in Gryffindor Tower, only re-emerging to join the rest of the student body for dinner. She could tell Harry was thinking as well, though possibly about Snape, she assumed, as his brow was furrowed.

Hermione looked about the hall. It was as if no one had noticed that Ron had nearly died. People were eating dinner and laughing and gossiping as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. She noticed Hagrid wasn't at his place at the teacher's table, but all else was normal.

Soon Ginny, Fred and George arrived at the dinner table.

'Great,' said Fred. 'I've really missed Hogwart's dinners.'

Hermione felt a bit sick, and realized she hadn't eaten much and didn't really want anything. Harry also seemed to be moving food about his plate rather than eating it, though he seemed to have perked up a bit at the arrival of the Weasleys. Or was it just Ginny? Hermione wondered.

'I'll see you later,' Hermione said. 'I think I'll go see Ron before I go to bed.'

'Good luck with Madam Pomfrey,' George said with a mouthful of mashed potato. 'She even kicked Mum and Dad out just now.'

'Thanks,' Hermione said as she made her way back to the very familiar Hospital Wing. She felt as if she'd worn footprints into the stone floors she'd been there so many times in the last few years.

The double doors were closed, though she was game enough to give them a little push. To her surprise they opened a chink and she peaked through. An enormous silhouette sat next to the bed weeping into a large handkerchief.

Hermione didn't want to intrude on Hagrid's time with Ron. She felt touched that such a big man had such a large heart. I can't think of a better sentry for Ron than Hagrid, she thought. Nothing bad will happen to him while he's there.

She stifled a yawn, and deftly closed the double doors and headed to bed. As she entered the girl's dormitory she was faced with a flurry of ripped photographs and a very angry Lavender Brown.

'I can't believe he did this to me,' she screeched. She obviously had traded in her tears for raging anger. 'I never mention that he didn't wear the necklace that I got him, but this is it. If he's off wooing another girl, then, then...'

She threw some more things at the wall, whilst Parvati tried to calm her down.

'I mean,' she went on, 'a love potion only lasts a few hours, doesn't it? So what the hell was he doing all day? Avoiding me. Hmph. I'll show him avoidance, the great big prat. And he's a lousy kisser too!'

It struck Hermione then that no one had told Lavender that Ron had been unconscious most of the day.

'Um, Lavender,' she began tentatively.

'What?' snapped Lavender. 'You better not defend him. I know you're friends and all, but there's no excuse for what he did today.'

'Actually, Lavender, Ron's been in the hospital wing all day. He was poisoned. He'll be OK, but he's still unconscious.' It felt dreadful to say the words out loud, but Lavender had to know.

'What? Why didn't anyone tell me that my boyfriend was in the hospital wing,' demanded Lavender. She seemed more affronted by the fact that she hadn't been consulted rather than the fact that Ron was lying pale and unconscious after nearly dying.

'Sorry, Lavender. I guess we were all too worried to think about it too much. We even forgot to tell Fred and George.'

Lavender however seemed to ignore this last part. 'Oh, how very convenient, Hermione. As if you would forget anything that went into that overlarge brain of yours.'

Hermione couldn't believe Lavender was saying this. They had never been good friends, but they had got on well enough after sharing a dorm together for years. Parvati also seemed a bit shocked.

'Calm down, Lavender, don't you think you're being a bit unreasonable?'

'Me? Unreasonable? What about Miss Perfect here? It's not enough that you've gone out with famous Harry Potter and Viktor Krum, but now it's Ron you've got your eye on as well. It's not enough that he's best friends with you is it? Not enough that all he talks about is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, but you want him all to yourself, don't you?'

'I suppose you think I poisoned him myself, do you?' hissed Hermione, feeling a bit unreasonable herself now. It had been a very emotional day and everything was right at the surface.

'Well, let me tell you, Granger. He's my boyfriend, not yours, so hands off!' She leaped onto her bed and threw her curtains together with an almighty effort.

Hermione and Parvati stared at each other across the room, stunned.

'Sorry,' mouthed Parvati.

Hermione climbed into her bed, too tired to undress. After pulling the curtains closed she laid back and wept.

She awoke at about two AM feeling anxious and afraid. Was Ron awake yet? Madam Pomfrey had said that he would be out of his coma by dinnertime, but he had still been out cold when she had peeked in on him and Hagrid.

Was Hagrid still there? Was Ron alone? She climbed out of bed and looked out of the window. There was smoke coming out of Hagrid's chimney; a sure sign that the half-giant was home.

So Ron was alone. She began thinking over what she had read about comas. It could take days, weeks, or even years before the victim came round. She also recalled reading about how some coma patients could recall what people talked to them about during their comas; that they had felt scared and stuck inside their bodies, unable to call for help.

What if Ron was in a coma like that, she thought. It was awful enough that he had been poisoned on his seventeenth birthday, back stabbed by his girlfriend, and been tampered with via a love potion; but it would be unbearable if he was still somewhat conscious and all alone. And not just unbearable for Ron. It was equally unbearable for her to imagine the panic and solitude he might be enduring. Ron Weasley had broken her heart, but it was still his to have, and he couldn't accept it from her if he never woke up.

Hermione turned from the window and climbed back into her four-poster, leaning over and looking through the giant drawers underneath the bed for a suitable book. Though her drawers were filled more with books than clothing, none seemed the kind that Ron would enjoy. Perhaps she could sneak into the boy's dormitory and ask Harry, but looking at the clock she realized that three AM was far too late for such a caper.

She settled on her newest book and snuck out of her dormitory. Hogwart's seemed very cold and lonely at night. She'd never been out wandering the labyrinthine school at night, not alone at any rate. She felt tiny and couldn't help but give in to the instinct of looking over her shoulder continuously. She hoped that she didn't meet anyone in the corridors, particularly Professor Snape.

Luckily she knew her way so well to the Hospital Wing that it took her no time at all to get there. She hesitated at the door, putting her ear to it for sounds of Madam Pomfrey bustling around inside, but there was nothing.

She pushed the doors quietly, but found they were locked.

'Alohomora,' she whispered into the keyhole and the door gently opened. She squeezed through the narrow gap she had made; she didn't want to risk the door creaking anymore than she had to, and closed it behind her cautiously. It made a slight clicking sound as it locked once again.

She walked quietly from the door to beside Ron's bed and seated herself in Hagrid's abandoned and now slightly bowed chair. He still looked frightful. Even his hair seemed less vibrant. At least he looks much more peaceful than last time, she thought, as she mustered up the courage to speak to him aloud.

'Ron? Can you hear me?' she whispered in a timid voice. She was startled at how loud she sounded in the silent hospital dorm.

No response. He lay as still as a statue but for his chest moving up and down with each breath. His hair was messy and in his eyes. Her own eyes were filling with tears. She hated to see him this way.

'Ron? Can you hear me?' she sniffed, brushing his scruffy fringe out of his face gently.

She felt helpless, and began wondering if he'd felt the same when he and Harry had sat with her after she'd been petrified by the Basilisk.

'I'm so sorry about what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you,' she added.

It was hard talking to someone who wasn't consciously involved in the conversation, so instead of trying to think up pleasantries or anecdotes to say, she decided to just plainly tell him her train of thought.

'I've read,' she began, in a voice that only he could hear, 'that people who are in comas can hear everything. I couldn't sleep thinking about you being here all alone, so I came.'

She paused, then reached out and placed her right hand over the one that he held at his side. It was warm, but he still showed no signs of stirring. She looked at the book that she had brought with her and smoothed the cover with her left hand.

'So I bought something to read to you,' she said. 'Sorry it's not about Quidditch; I was going to go borrow something from Harry until I realized it was three AM. It's by a Muggle writer, it's something I've always wanted to read. My parents finally sent it to me this morning. It's called "A Brief History of Time", and it's by the world's smartest man,' she went on.

She looked at Ron again. She wondered if he really could hear her and how disappointed he might be that she wasn't reading him 'Flying with the Canons'. She smiled a little to herself at the thought, and then began to read in a clear whisper.

It had been a long time since she'd had any use for physics, and had only touched on it in her advanced primary school class, so the book was a real challenge, but one that she relished. She doubted Ron would agree however.

Now and again she would pause to look at him, and after she finished reading chapter five, 'Elementary Particles and the Forces of Nature', she needed a drink to quench or dried throat.

'I'll be back in a minute, Ron,' she said to the still form, and crept out of the dorm for a glass of water. She returned to find him in much the same state, though she could swear that his hair had moved to cover his left eye again and she thought his colour a little less wan.

She leant over him and brushed his fringe gently out of his eyes once more. She missed those eyes. It had been a few weeks since she'd looked him in the face properly. Hermione felt like she could savor him in all at once, making up for lost time. His eyelashes were long and fair and she willed them to open so she could see the brilliant blue of his eyes again. She could see a slight scattering of stubble on his chin, golden in the low light of the dorm. When did that start happening? she wondered. She had never really thought of Ron as a man before, but she now realized he was. His lips were parted very slightly and a gentle breath escaped them, as if he was merely asleep. Perhaps he is, she hoped.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from those lips, and wondered which Lavender was right. 'Angry hellcat' Lavender or 'sycophantic leech' Lavender? Hermione had often wondered what it would be like to kiss Ron Weasley. She was saddened by the fact that he had chosen Lavender Brown and not her. Maybe she would never know what it would be like to kiss the boy that she secretly loved.

Seize the day, her brain chirruped. He won't know; no one will. Call it a birthday gift.

She leaned closer to him, very slowly, feeling his warm breath meet hers, before she pressed her lips to his gently. She was glad to find his lips warm and soft, and not chilled like the dead.

'Happy Seventeenth, Ron,' she whispered in his ear.

She pulled back, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. She sat down and continued reading chapter six, which was on black holes. She held his hand again, but didn't dare look at him. She felt very guilty about kissing him without him knowing. Or perhaps he did know and now was pretending to be asleep? Either way, not good.

Then, as if to prove her wrong, as Ron Weasley always sought to do, he moved his head slightly and opened his eyes. She saw this in her peripheral vision and jumped out of her seat. She flung her arms around him, forgetting instantly that he might want to be avoiding her.

'Oh Ron! I was so worried. I'm so glad you're back,' she sobbed, hugging him tightly as her tears went running down his cheeks.

'Shit,' said Ron. Hermione leaped back.

Oh god, he did feel that kiss, she thought. 'Sorry.'

'Not that,' he said weakly. 'Still can't use my arms. Didn't mean to scare you. I've been yelling and talking all day and no one's heard me. I felt bloody useless,' Ron explained.

'Oh, right.' She paused while she sat down and held his hand again, then asked, 'Could you hear me?'

She watched his face anxiously for a sign of recognition as to what she'd done, but there was none. Just the normal Weasley awkwardness that she knew and loved.

'Yes, I could hear you all right. Not really anyone else though,' his ears flushed a lovely healthy pink, and she knew that her cheeks were doing the same. She could feel his eyes upon her, and couldn't bear to look back at him in case he remembered the kiss.

'Oh God!' he gasped suddenly. 'Hermione, are my eyes...y'know, OK?'

'They're fine, Ron, as always,' she replied, not able to fathom this line of questioning. What had his eyes to do with anything?

'Thank Merlin – I thought I was going to be a freak...' he trailed off.

'Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing, Ron,' said Hermione firmly. 'She said by morning you should be able to move again and everything.' She hadn't said this exactly of course, but she knew Ron would worry about it otherwise.

'Good. This has been hell,' he exhaled, relieved. 'Hermione, thanks for keeping me company. I really mean it... Thanks.'

Hermione was amazed to hear something so sincere and eloquent come out of Ron's mouth. She knew it couldn't last long.

'Just next time,' he continued, 'choose a book that's in English, would you?'

She laughed, glad that the old Ron was back. Her heart felt finally lighter than it had been all day. Her Ron was back.

'I mean, what was that about it being easier to drop things in the dark than in the light?'

She giggled again.

'And "A Brief History of Time"? Even the title doesn't make sense!'

She slapped him on the arm playfully and he grinned back with the smile that always melted her heart.

'You're amazing, Hermione.'

Hermione felt a blush creep over her face. Ron had never said anything like this to her before. She didn't know what to say in return, and began fussing over the cover of her book while she bought some time. 'Well, you'd do the same for me. Wouldn't you?' she said after a pause. She looked back up at him.

'Of course I would, Hermione,' Ron smiled warmly, and he looked like he meant it. She had no doubt now that he had sat with her and felt exactly the same way during her Basilisk attack.

'I'm really sorry, you know,' he began.

'What for, Ron?' Hermione asked, taken off guard by the apology.

'For being such a prat. I realized at Christmas how much I missed talking with you, but it wasn't until this,' he tipped his head towards his sheets, 'that I knew that I needed you here by me.'

Hermione was stunned. He really can be a prat sometimes, she thought, but when he wants to be sweet no one can match him.

'When I got here to the hospital wing I couldn't see or hear anything,' Ron explained. 'It was like I was somewhere else.'

Hermione nodded in understanding. It sounded much like the coma reports she'd read about.

'And I could hear Mum a bit, and I heard Ginny crying too, but they seemed so far away from me. I heard Fred and George a bit later talking, but they were even further away and I couldn't even understand what they were saying.'

'Oh, Ron,' Hermione whispered. 'You must have been so frightened!'

'Well,' he admitted, 'I was. Until I heard your voice, Hermione. You sounded like you were right next to me. I yelled for you to help me, but you didn't. And then you were silent.'

Hermione listened intently. Her heart felt like it was breaking when she realized that it was her that Ron had been calling out to. Before she knew it tears were flooding her cheeks again.

'Please don't cry, Hermione. It's all right. Because after I heard your voice, I knew I'd be OK.'

'I heard you, Ron,' she sniffed.

'And then – What?'

'I thought I heard you say my name, but you were kind of mumbling, so it could've been anything.'

He looked stunned. It was moments before he could say anything else, and then all he managed was a weak, 'Oh.'

Followed shortly after by, 'Did you hear me call for anyone else?'

'No,' she said, looking him in the eyes.

'Then you see what I'm trying to tell you? You're the only person I could hear, and you're the person I wanted most to hear me. So...I'm sorry,' he ended awkwardly.

She laughed then, wiping the tears from her face. He really was sweet sometimes.

'What?' said Ron grumpily. Now that's more like the Ron I know, she smiled.

'Ron, you don't need to apologize. I don't care that we weren't speaking, or that you're going out with bloody Lavender Brown! You nearly died! I nearly lost you!'

'Hermione – you swore,' whispered Ron in awe.

'Hmmm. Maybe I should stop talking to you. I seem to be picking up some of your bad speaking habits,' she grinned.

Ron laughed heartily, then looked a little puzzled. Perhaps he was feeling ill again.

'What? Are you feeling OK? You look a bit pale,' she asked, concerned.

'As opposed to my usual golden tan, you mean?' Ron quipped and Hermione couldn't help but giggle. 'I'd forgotten all about Lavender, to be honest. I certainly didn't hear her.'

Hermione tried keeping a more sombre look on her face, when really she felt very giddy that Ron had heard her and not even thought ofLavender Brown.

'Well, actually she was annoyed with you for most of the day. No one told her that you'd been poisoned. She thought you were snubbing her or something. When she found out later tonight she was very upset, though.'

Ron laughed, Well, I hate to see what my birthday present will be then if she was happy with me at Christmas...' he trailed off. 'But it's not my birthday anymore, is it? So much for the big seventeen, eh?'

'Well, you can still open your presents. Your family left them here for you to open when you woke up,' said Hermione, suddenly feeling remorse for her pettiness. 'I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't get you anything.'

Ron laughed again. 'Hermione, you being here in the middle of the night with me is the best present I could ever have.'

Hermione beamed back at him as a blush enveloped her cheeks once more and her stomach flipped madly. She was pleased to see a matching blush erupting about Ron's ears.

For Hermione the morning flew by as she made up for lost time with her best friend. They laughed and joked, and Hermione was a little surprised, but very happy to find Ron's fingers weaving into hers absentmindedly. She couldn't believe that Ron was meant for Lavender. Hermione knew that Ron was made for her. No one could push her buttons or make her feel such wonderful highs as Ron Weasley, and she suspected that he felt the same of her.

'I'm so glad you're OK, Ron,' she said, when she felt it time to leave before Madam Pomfrey turned up. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, wishing it was his lips she were kissing again, before she headed towards the door. 'I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'Thanks,' he said in a broken voice that filled her broken heart with hope.

A massive thanks to Ozma for straightening out my sentence structure and helping me get in Hermione's head. You're also the best word prompter ever! Cheers!

And now time for the quiz answers! Well done for all of you who got one and three right, though I don't think anyone got question two. Tsk tsk.

a) The world's smartest man is said to be Stephen Hawking.

b) The comedian I allude to his Bill Bailey, (black holes and light density) from his Part Troll show.

JRR Tolkien used the wonderful phrase Naked in the Dark.

Cheers!

Howl