Fear.

Just a short oneshot because I'm having bad writers block for my other stories and I just wanted to try and get myself up and running again.

Summary: Ron and Hermione knew the risks of going with Harry. It wasn't as if they hadn't talked about it. Post DH. Hermione's POV.

I need to talk to Ron. I need to know that I'm not the only one who is scared. It's just after two in the morning, a few days before we are due to collect Harry, the waxing crescent moon shines brightly through wispy clouds, unaffected by the dark events occurring below.

I sneak from mine and Ginny's room. Although more rule abiding than Ron and Harry, I have learnt to move around quietly in the times I've been out of bounds, or out of bed after hours at Hogwarts.

It was four more creaky flights of stairs up to Ron's room. His door screeches as I push it open, but the flame haired boy snoring deeply doesn't react.

I watch his deep breathing for a moment, examining his freckled face on which a misplaced strand of hair lies. I reach forward, aching to brush it back. My hand falls abruptly to my side; I know I'm being silly.

With trepidation I place both hands on his shoulders and shake him vigorously in an attempt to wake him.

"Mmmmm..." Ron mumbles, shifting his body away from me before relaxing again.

I try again with no response, "For the love of Merlin," I mutter, flicking his head.

"Ow!" Ron sits up abruptly, looking around with eyes unfocussed, "Wha...Hermione?"

I don't speak for a moment, waiting for the usual reaction. It happens just as I thought. Ron's brain catches up with him and his eyes flicker down. He realises he is only wearing boxers and grabs the duvet, yanking it up to his chin, eyes wide.

"What are you doing in here Hermione?" His voice is squeaky, and his ears have turned scarlet, the tell-tale sign that he is embarrassed.

I smile, "Ronald," I shake my head, "I just wanted to talk."

He frowns, as if talking is a new concept, before loosening his grip on the duvet. He props himself up against the wall, making sure he is entirely covered. I sit down on the edge of the bed, he shies away slightly but relaxes after a moment.

"What about, it's..." He looks at the clock on his bedside table, "It's almost two thirty, you know I need my sleep Hermione."

I nod, his grumpy-when-sleep-deprived-moods are something I know well, "I just," I pause, unsure of what to say now that I'm here, "What do you think about the Horcruxes?"

"What d'you mean?"

I sigh, he is one of the densest people I have ever met, "I mean, the mission."

Ron's face lights up with understanding, may be I don't give him enough credit, "You don't want to go?"

I take that back, "Of course I want to go," I snap, "I want to be there for Harry."

Ron nods quickly, aware that he has upset me, "Of course you do, I know that."

We sit in silence for a few moments, I stare at the opposite wall, my mind whirring through what to say next, it's not as easy as I thought to admit to fear. I can feel Ron's eyes searching my face, and he breaks the silence.

"But you're scared," Ron states, watching for my reaction.

I turn to look at him, surprised he has guessed so quickly, watching his eyes to see what he thinks of this. They give nothing away, so I look down to the bright orange bed covers, "Yes." I feel weak, I feel like a failure.

But out of the corner of my eye I can see him smiling, "So am I."

I frown at him, why would he admit to that so easily. Tears well up in my eyes, and a lump rises in my throat, "I don't...want to..to be...but it's just..." Tears roll relentlessly down my cheeks, I let out a quiet sob, "We are going...to...to...to kill...to destroy him...we're only seventeen and...and I...and I...I...I just..." I break of, pressing my hands over my face, shoulders shaking.

I feel arms tentatively snake around me; I put down my arms, looking straight into his concerned eyes as he pulls me close to him, earlier embarrassment and bed covers forgotten. New tears follow tracks left by others, dripping off the edge of my chin.

Ron doesn't say anything, but continues staring into my eyes, gently placing his thumb under my eye and wiping away some tears.

"I just want to be strong, Harry and you seem so calm about all of this," I confide quietly.

Ron shakes his head with another beautiful smile, "Nah, we're just good at hiding it, I'm scared out my wits by this whole situation, and I'd bet my wand that Harry is too. But we've got each other."

I give him a watery smile back, the flood of tears easing slightly, "Thank you," I tell him sincerely, leaning in and placing my head on his shoulder.

Neither of us says anymore. We just sit there, propped up against the orange wall, his arms around me while I lay my head on his bare shoulder. I hear his breathing deepen a little later, followed by the beginnings of snores, it's comforting. His arms loosen, but I hold them so they stay wrapped around me, drifting off to sleep on his shoulder, feeling safer in his arms than I would have felt guarded by the entire order. For now my fear is kept at bay.