Chapter 1: Wake Up Even the ocean waves couldn't soothe his impatience. All he needed was an answer, why was that so much to ask for. Will she be ok? Will she survive? Ron sighed while tugging at his hair in frustration. She looked so fragile, the unfamiliarity of the extinguished fire in her spirit scared him, and all he wanted was to light it up again. It tore away the color in her cheeks, and she resembled ashes more than she did flames. Wake up, he asked her, but she didn't respond. How could she if he hasn't uttered anything more than a sob or a cry for help in the past 3 hours. Fleur only recently left the room, with the door ajar, he could see her rummaging through cabinets in attempt to find more healing potions or substances. Wake up, he thought again, still not speaking, throat just as dry as the sand on the beach just outside. "Ron?" A voice interrupted, "She'll live". Ron sensed pity in Fleur's voice, and doubted her prediction as truth, yet praying to God he was wrong. "What are her chances?" He strained his vocal chords solely for another question. "I cannot give you zee exact number, but I can say it is likely. She is strong" Fleur said with forced hope. Ron was fully aware of the strength she was capable of, and how much dark magic she could resist, but this, this fell of that grid. She was assaulted, bruised, gashed and crucified. How the bloody hell could withstanding that be likely. Shut up, he yelled at himself again, think positive. "Ron?" Fleur spoke gently again. "If you 'adn't brought her 'ere in time, 'likely' would be very far off". Ron grinned slightly. "Make sure she thanks you when she wakes up." "If she ever does." Ron replied quickly. "That is definitely not what she needs right now. Believe those eyes you always stare at open again." Fleur spoke more firmly. "And make sure that chest you always check out rises up again". Ron's facade suddenly blended in with his hair. "Where did you get those ideas from?" Ron asked once again. But Fleur didn't answer, after a reassuring grip on his shoulder, she left the room. He could hear the waves again, and he could see the water bask in the sun's rays. It reminded him of the Black Lake back at Hogwarts, yet he doubted a giant squid dwelled in this area. He stared back down at Hermione's figure, through the thin blanket he could see her skinny outline, she hasn't been eating well; then again, neither had he. Walking downstairs to grab something to eat he saw Luna, Dean, and Harry outside on the beach, holding what seemed to be a small child's body. "Whats going on?" He shouted at the lot. "Dobby… he's dead…" Dean uttered. "Killed. By Bellatrix" This raged another fury inside Ron. "How many more people does she have to hurt!" He yelled, the tension in his throat returning. He felt a tear release, and wiped it away immediately, Not now, not now. "That bitch" He mumbled. Harry looked surprised at Ron, as he was acting more furious than than in mourning. "Ron, Dean, Luna," Harry spoke, words crumbling due to his tears, "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a minute alone." The three of them left without hesitation, they were all in the know of Harry's compassion and admiration for Dobby. "Where is Hermione?" Luna delicately asked as they sat on the sofa. "Upstairs" He grumbled, instantly turning on his heel towards the stairs, hunger forgotten. The floors creaked as his holed shoes stepped on each floor board, however he didn't bother to lighten his step, as maybe that is what will wake Hermione. Head held low, unwashed hair blocking his front view, he noticed blood on his hands, yet had no recollection of them getting slashed. Hermione's, he quickly realized, his shitty sense of awareness punished him again. He rushed faster up the stairs and down the hall, staining the railway and the doorknob with the blood of Hermione. He heard movements in her room, was she finally awake? His freshly charged anticipating mind instantly subsided when he entered Hermione's room only to find her in some sort of seizure. Limbs flailing as her back arched, her fists clenched, punching the air, she was screaming. Ron froze, What to do, what to do, he shook himself out of it and began to seize her shoulders, he rocked her back and forth as to shake the trance out in a way, yet no difference was made. He shouted, "Hermione! It's over". No change occurred besides for the fist that made its way towards Ron's nose. He heard footsteps coming closer, Fleur arrived, yelling directions, all he heard was "Roll 'er onto 'er side!". After doing so he waited in agony for her convulsion to finally slacken. Her eyes burst open, and Ron jumped on top of her, relief washing over, yet wanting nothing more than to protect her. "Ron! Give 'er space!". Fleur had to physically remove Ron off of Hermione as she laid there, her face exclusively expressing shock. "I'm going to go grab supplies and a 'ot towel" Fleur quickly said as she scurried out of the bedroom. Ron's eyes met Hermione's. Tears fell once more, yet this time, he let them flow, his hands too busy with his firm grip on Hermione. "Why are you crying?" Hermione asked quietly. Ron grew perplexed, "Why the bloody hell are you asking me how I'm doing?" "That wasn't my question." She stated simply. Ron opened his mouth to respond but Fleur beat him to it. "Here" she said anxiously. Hermione struggled to sit up, Ron immediately at her aid. Fleur handed her a flask. "I'm not a 'ealer, but I'm positive zis will soothe your nervous system. It seems the cruciatus curse 'asn't entirely subsided". Ron noticed panic in Fleur's voice. "Take two sips, then rest, zee spells must wear out of your system". Hermione did as she was told as Ron watched patiently. He waited until Fleur left to speak to Hermione. The moment came, and Ron resumed their conversation. "How are you feeling?" He impulsively asked. "As expected" She said painfully trying to adjust herself. She winced and rubbed her eyes. Ron quickly jumped to grab her fingers. Their eyes met again, hers glistening as they met his blotched. Enveloping her in his arms, almost suffocating her with concern, he stroked her knotted and unruly hair. He noticed her head fidgeting out from under his neck to look at him again. "Get rest" he whispered, as he gently kissed her forehead. And left without another word.