A/N: Well, I'm out of practice but you've got to get back into these things somehow. I read a ton of Shell Cottage fics and then though I may as well give writing my own a go.

Every muscle in my body aches with a weight that felt as strong as the weight I had been carrying on my shoulders since this war began. Every time I breathe it feels as though someone is sitting on my chest in an attempt to prevent me from doing so. I can feel sharp pain in my back with every slight movement but that's nothing compared to the pain in my head. My mind is so clouded with pain that I can barely think, barely remember...

I'm lying on a soft surface; I can feel it beneath me. We must have escaped; this place feels safe, comforting and warm. It is a stark contrast to the last scene my memory holds. I vaguely remember the feel of a cool blade against my throat, I can feel the mark it left there now: a sharp sting which dances across my neck repeatedly. I remember a sense of urgency. I remember a lot of noise. I remember Dobby. I remember Ron bursting in with a look of sheer determination on his face, a determination which was partially masking the anger hidden underneath.

Ron...

I am suddenly filled with fear, a deep fear which overtakes the pain. What has happened to Ron? I don't even know if he made it out of there... I don't want to think about the alternative. I can't. I can't picture a world without him, I can't even picture my own future without him, I can't allow myself to, if I do then I'll get scared. If I'm scared then I'm an easy target, a scared mudblood is very vulnerable in this world. I can't bear the thought of never getting the chance to tell him how I feel. I should've done it sooner but I never really saw the chance, it was always the wrong time or there were things, people, coming between us. I should've said something but in truth it made me scared and scared is something I cannot afford to be. I must keep this cowardly side of me hidden; mask it under determination, cleverness and false bravery.

"Ron..."
I can hear my voice cracking as I speak, my throat feels dry and constricted, my voice is weak and unused.

"Hermione?"
His voice cracks too. A smile of relief graces my face instantly, the ghosts of happiness echoed within it. He's alive, he's here, he's right by my side. It's weird hearing him use my full name, he does so rarely but I know it's him, I know his voice so well. I should do, it's always in my mind, my dreams, my hopes and fears. I know his every tone of voice; I've got each committed to memory, just in case I don't hear them again for a while. I did it subconsciously, storing away these tiny details of information even though they may never be necessary. Right now he's worried about me; I could sense the anxiety running through just that one word.

"'mione, are you awake? Open your eyes?"

It wasn't an order, not even an instruction but a request. He sounds flustered, panicked even.
"...Come on 'mione." His voice is soft, soft but desperate pleading.

I feel the warmth of a hand on mine, a soft gentle hand with a grip that longs to be firmer, a hand with long fingers which still send shivers down my spine when they touch my skin, his hand. I have to open my eyes, not just for him but to see him. I need to see him sitting there next to me even though I already know he's there. My eyes need the proof that my other senses claim is true.
My eyelids are heavy, it takes far more effort than I thought it would to lift them, it is tens of times worse than any kind of early morning I've ever experienced. The light seems suddenly blinding compared to the darkness I had grown used to. I want to close my eyes again but the look on his face is worth keeping them open for.

"Oh thank Merlin..." He bowed his head as he said this, in what I can only assume was relief. Simultaneously he brought his hand, with my own still clasped within it, up to his face. His breath ghosted across my as he sighed and then brought them to rest against his check. His skin had somehow remained fairly soft despite the battle we had just gone though, I could however feel a scratch which ran from his long nose, over his check and under my hand up towards his flaming red hair and, often equally red, ear. His eyes are locked with mine, I'm too tired to work out what they're saying but I know there's something there.

"I was so scared..." I watch him, waiting for him to continue, I must rely on my eyes to speak for me. "I...I thought I was going to lose you." He says this in a whisper, like he can't believe he ever had to be in that state of mind and he can't believe he has escaped from it. At the same time, his hand grasps tighter on mine, not to tight but a much firmer and more desperate grip than before. I can tell he is still holding back, still trying not to hurt me, still protecting me.
" Hermione I have to tell you something, back there I thought I might never get the chance to and now I can I just have to, I need you to know." He takes a deep breath, blinks slowly and then fixes his eyes upon mine once more. "Hermione, I -"

"Ron, Fleur needs to dress Hermione's wounds, you should eat something while she does, you haven't left her side since you got here," calls a male voice from just outside the door, I hardly recognise it, it must be Bill.

I see Ron's trail of thought falter, watch as whatever he was planning to say retreats its course from his mouth, I see the look of defeat on his face as we hear light footsteps which can only be Fleur's approaching the door. He quickly but carefully lays my hand back down to rest against my side. He leans forward, his lips touch my forehead fleetingly and I feel the combination of excitement, joy and sorrow run through me all at once. His lips are soft against my skin, I can tell that he acted on instinct, that he would not have normally done this, it is the protective instinct of a friend that I feel yet my mind questions whether it could be something more...

Too tired to puzzle it out I close my eyes as his lips leave my skin, I still feel comforted by his presence, almost invincible when he touches me. As Fleur enters the room and Ron pulls away to leave he whispers to me.

"I will always come back for you."

A/N: So, that's that then. I'm not sure about continuing it... I'll call it a one shot for now. Reviews are much appreciated particularly seeing as I haven't done this in a while.
Thanks for reading, sorry if it sucked.
:)