This story is inspired by the movie scene in Deathly Hallows Part 1 where Harry challenges Ron to leave with him. I'm planning on this being multi-chapter, so please follow along if you'd like to see it progress! It's going to have a fair bit of Romione, but more so focusing on the overwhelming amount of pressure the Trio has thrust upon them in the beginning of DH.

It was far, far too quiet. Absent were the sounds of gentle snores emulating from a few feet away, no creaking door hinges, no rustle of sheets. Harry tended to be a fitful sleeper, poor bloke. Ron knew this full well after sharing sleeping quarters with him for six years.

He shifted his hips to turn over and glanced across the room, the silvery light evidencing that his suspicions were correct. He was alone in his childhood bedroom. "Might just be using the loo," he thought warily, yet somehow knew that was not the case. Ron groaned and ran a hand down his face, wondering what bloody time it was. Pulling his long legs out from the tangle of sheets, he snatched his wand, unsure if he even had enough time to catch the wizard or if he was already long gone.

The Burrow was filled to the brim tonight, with every bed, sofa, and alternative arrangement currently utilized for guests of the Weasleys. Ron bounded down the stairs as quietly as his feet would allow. As he padded swiftly past his sister's room, he involuntarily held his breath. The all-too-familiar flip of his stomach reminded him that Hermione was in there with her and his soon-to-be sister in law, hopefully fast asleep. He could only imagine the scene that would unfold if their roles were reversed.

It had been so, so good to see her again. He'd been downright giddy when she showed up at the Burrow just yesterday, unable to stop the grin that fought its way on his face when she rushed towards him and wrapped those delicate arms around his neck. He swore she could have probably felt his heart hammering in his chest against her.

The letters back and forth all summer had been purposefully cryptic, as paranoia from his mum and dad grew with each passing day. No one in the Order had any inkling of trust that letters weren't being intercepted. Anything Hermione shared with him could be used against her, and same with him. After all that had happened following the end of sixth year, he just needed to know she was all right.

He thought back to her arrival as he continued through the dark kitchen, pausing to shove his feet into worn trainers. Her skin wasn't as tanned as he expected. Upon each reunion following the summer, she normally donned a bit more color and a smattering of light freckles across the bridge of that perfect nose from summer hols with her parents. This time she looked thinner and paler. Well…they all did, he supposed. There had been a flurry of activity all around them as his parents, siblings, and Order members who had arrived earlier in the day to sort out the plan to bring Harry from the Dursley's had welcomed the witch. She seemed a bit off, he thought, her smile not reaching her eyes. Her tone was controlled, polite. Wanting desperately to just be alone with her, Ron hoisted up her bag (which was rather small, he thought to himself) and slung it over his shoulder, catching her gaze and motioning with his eyes to follow him up the winding stairs. There she had confided in him the measures she had taken to save her parents, wringing her hands as she described each step. He'd never been so damned proud of her in his life. He even told her so, in a deeper voice than he intended. He had nearly fainted when she rose up on her feet, grasping his forearms to steady herself and pecked him lightly on the cheek.

Thoughts of her evaporated as soon as Ron saw a dark figure from the window, making his way steadily out towards the nearby field. He didn't need to wonder if it was really Harry – the wards were strong enough that not even the bloody Minister of Magic could break through.

The wind whipped through Ron's hair as he stepped out into the night, glad that he'd thrown on a long-sleeved shirt despite the August warmth. Closing the door behind him, he hurried after the retreating figure. Sure enough, he was fully dressed and had his rucksack with him, the lunatic.

Suddenly Ron was filled with righteous indignation. How dare he leave, when they had just risked their lives – lost Moody's life – and just sneak away in the night as if nothing had happened?

"Going somewhere?" he called out, stopping Harry in his tracks. Pausing, Harry turned around met his gaze. Even in the dark, he could sense his stubbornness. It rolled off of him like waves.

The look on Harry's face provided the grating confirmation that he was once again playing the bloody hero as the moonlight glinted off his glasses. "Nobody else is going to die."

Ron could have laughed in exasperation. No one else? Are you really that daft, mate?

"Not for me."

As Harry turned again, the words tumbled from Ron's mouth. "For you?"

Harry kept walking. His stupid rucksack seemed to mock Ron, bouncing lightly off his shoulders as the distance grew between the two men. While he knew it was harsh, he released the irritated question that was more of a statement than anything. "You think Mad-Eye died for you?"

Harry continued his steady pace away from the Burrow. Ron resisted the urge to use his wand. He called louder, risking waking someone in the nearby house. "D'you think George took that curse for you?"

Harry reluctantly paused again, turning his head quickly as the rest of his body followed. For once he let his steely gaze falter.

"You may be the chosen one, mate," Ron said evenly, "but this is a whole lot bigger than that." They met eyes, sizing each other up. "It's always been bigger than that."

Crickets chirped loudly around them, filling the silence as both boys looked at one another in their unanticipated standoff.

Green eyes flashed in tandem with a clenched jaw. Ron held is breath, unsure of what Harry might say. He uttered it so quickly he had to play his words over again in his head.

"Come with me!"

Ron didn't even hesitate to question his friend's sanity. "And leave Hermione? Are you mad?" He saw Harry's eyes flash to the ground, breaking their intense contact. "We wouldn't last two days without her."

It was a statement. A fact. Doing this without Hermione was suicide. Harry had to know that.

A sound in the distance – likely a creature or garden gnome wandering nearby, snapped a twig. Ron felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. In annoyance or alarm, he wasn't sure. He looked behind him instinctually. Did their voices rouse her from her sleep?

"Don't…tell her I said that," he responded sheepishly. Harry shook his head curtly, brow furrowed. He was really serious. Had he forgotten how necessary Hermione had been with every single misadventure they had ever had? How lost they would be without her intellect, bravery, and quick thinking? The pressure of everything was clearly messing with his head.

"Besides, you've still got the trace on you... we've still got the wedding-"

"I don't care about a wedding," Harry interrupted breathlessly, "I'm sorry, no matter whose it is. I have to start finding these horcruxes. They're our only chance to beat him, and the longer we stay here the stronger he gets."

He was right. But... Hermione. Leaving her was inherently wrong. He had assumed at some point they would need to keep secrets and plans from his family, but never once considered leaving the witch out.

"Tonight is not the night, mate," Ron replied firmly, stepping towards him. "We'll only be doing him a favor. They locked eyes again. Harry's eyes shifted in the darkness, but his body remained fixed.

"The Order will protect them," Harry said softy. Those words washed over Ron like a wave as Harry continued, "they're better off here than with us, where they're safe. We can just go now without….without putting them in even more danger."

More danger. She was already in enough danger, with a damn x on her back being muggle born AND friends with Harry Potter.

Harry stepped closer, dropping his voice to a terse whisper. "They'll have each other. But I'm going, with or without you."

Ron knew he was mainly referring to Ginny with his earlier statement, but wasn't omitting their other best friend. They both kew Hermione never would allow him to stalk off into the night.

She probably is safer here, with Kingsley and Remus and his parents and everyone else. What could he and Harry offer her? The promise of uncertainty? If something happened to her, if they were caught…

Ron gulped. Harry was clearly itching to go, his brow furrowing once gain.

"You coming or what?"

"Shut it, Harry. Just give me a mo'…" he snapped, silently weighing how horrified his parents, siblings, and – most importantly – the girl he loved and the one person who had been an integral part of this entire thing so far would be when they woke to find both of them missing.

At last he spoke, revealing his decision with a question. "Can I at least leave a note?" Harry huffed at his words and ran a hand through his unruly hair, clearly frustrated that he had been stalled so long already. Ron didn't wait for him to respond as he quickly ran into the house, rushing to grab the first scrap of parchment he could find and scribble out a short message. He felt his heart clench as he considered what they were about to do, and how she would feel in the morning. When would he see her again? The very thought was unbearable. He focused on penning his message in messy scrawl before leaving it on the kitchen table, forcing himself to stop thinking about the witch asleep on the next floor.

Harry was impatiently waiting for him just outside the yard, but clapped Ron gently on the back once he joined him with nothing but the clothes on his back and wand in his pocket. The realization of that fact was his first sign that this was a very bad idea indeed.

They all awoke to Molly's shriek, nearly shrill enough to rattle the windows of her humble home. Hermione leapt up from the flimsy camp bed, beating Ginny down the stairs by a second to find Mrs. Weasley positively shaking, her face reddening.

Absolute chaos ensued as the room filled with shocked faces and confused murmurs of "both of them, gone, left in the night? Are you certain? Have you checked upstairs?" Ginny blanched. Molly wailed. In the mayhem, Hermione stood shell-shocked by the staircase.

No no no no no. They wouldn't. They wouldn't leave her. They were in this together, and had been from the very start. She had everything they needed upstairs in her beaded bag. The idea of returning to Hogwarts had been dismissed long ago – she knew there was no way the three of them were going back in September. They just needed to wait until Harry turned seventeen. They were so close.

Panic bubbled up in her as Fred bounded back down the stairs, confirming that the boys were truly gone. She felt bile rise in her throat at the idea that she had been left behind, with literally no idea where they could possibly be. Never in her life had Hermione felt so alone. She backed up to the wall, needing the pressure to keep her upright.

"H-he l-l-l-left this," Molly sputtered, holding out the note.

"What's it say?" Ginny demanded, reaching for it and snatching it from her mother's trembling hand. Her eyes scanned the page rapidly before she handed it confidently to Hermione, her jaw set.

The words swam before her eyes and she took a shaky breath before forcing herself to focus. It was heartbreakingly short.

Please don't be angry. I couldn't live with myself if we put you in more danger. Trust the Order. Take care of yourself. They need your brilliant mind just as much as we do.

Love, Ron

She read it over four times. Each word caused her heart to constrict so tightly she thought she felt like she was being choked. This can't be happening.

Someone rounded on her. Pressure on her arms, a light shake. She blinked into Bill's concerned eyes, heard him ask a third time if she knew where they went. Heads turned awaiting a response, hope etched on their faces as she tried to speak. But only one coherent thought surfaced: was that this must be a very, very bad dream.

A/N: Let me know what you think and any ideas for the next chapter. I think I know where I'm taking this but am open to feedback. xx MV