this was a story i've been working on, on and off, for a few months. its basically what i would go work on if i was stuck on any of my other stories. i decided i would post it because i didn't want the time i spent working on it to be a waste, and to see what you thought of it. there may or may not be a second chapter...

Ron sat at the table, more exhausted than he had ever been in his entire life. Between that, and the grief that hung over him for all those who died, the only thing that could keep him sitting up straight was the girl next to him, leaning on his shoulder.

After a while, when he had finally eaten as much as he possibly could, there was a moment where he closed his eyes, only meaning to let them rest, but when he opened them, he realized that he had fallen asleep. The second thing he realized was that his shoulder had grown cold.

When he looked, he saw that the girl was gone.

Ron looked at the person sitting across from him, "Luna, did you see where Hermione went?"

"I think she said she was going to the bathroom."

"Oh. How long has she been gone?"

Luna thought for a moment, "Quite a while now, actually."

Ron then stood up, "I'm going to go look for her . . ." and with that, he exited the Great Hall.

He knew that if Hermione did leave, and didn't come back, it was more likely that she was trying to get some quiet, rather than being in any danger, or anything like that. But Ron felt he needed to be near Hermione. She helped numb the pain he felt.

The very first place he thought of was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was the least popular bathroom, and he already knew Myrtle wasn't in there, because he saw her floating around in the Great Hall, telling people about how death was not as bad as they thought.

If it had been any other bathroom, he wouldn't have been able to enter it without thinking twice, but this one he became used to in his second year, so he didn't feel the slightest bit awkward going into a girls bathroom.

Once he entered, he heard a noise that made him think Moaning Myrtle was still in there. Then he recognized the sobs as someone else's.

"Hermione?" he called as he wandered toward the stalls. The sobs came from behind the only closed stall door.

Ron walked up to it, "Hermione," he said softly, "Are you in there?"

There was a sniff, and then a long pause, before: ". . . no . . ."

Ron slightly smiled to himself, and after moment asked, "Can I-er-come in?"

There was another long pause, then the stall door opened, and there stood a puffy-eyed, and wary looking Hermione.

Ron didn't know what to say. He hated seeing her like this, but at the same time he felt exactly how she looked.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he answered immediately, "I just-er-wanted to know if you were okay . . ?"

She sighed, "I'm fine . . ."

"Are you sure?"

She took a step back into the stall, "Yes." she replied shortly, as she went to close the door, "And I don't think you should be in here. This is the girls' room, you know."

Ron stopped the door with his arm, "When did that stop me from coming in here before?"

"Look," Hermione said, "I really just . . . just need to be alone for a while, alright?"

"Come on," he said softly, "being alone won't make you feel any better . . ."

"Well I don't think I can be around all those people right now . . ."

"How about just me, then?" he asked.

His eyes were wide and sincere. The look on his face gave Hermione the urge to cry even more than she already had. She knew, a split second before, that she was going to completely break down, and she needed someone there. And she was glad it was Ron.

Hermione collapsed to the floor, leaning against the toilet, as tears poured out of her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to watch Ron walk away.

But he didn't. Instead he crouched down next to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Instinctively, Hermione wrapped her arms around his mid-section, and cried into his chest.

Ron was a bit startled by this at first- he was expecting her to pull away- but then he just pulled his other arm around her, so they were in a tight embrace, cautiously started stroking her hair, and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He imagined they must've looked quite ridiculous, at that moment, sitting on the floor in a stall in the girls' bathroom, leaning against a toilet.

Hermione sobbed heavily into Ron's chest for several minutes. When she did finally start to calm down, and her sobs became less and less, she looked up at Ron, and said the last thing he was thinking about at that moment:

"I need to go to Australia."

Despite his confusion as to why she brought that up now, he said, "I know."

"I think I want to go the muggle way," she added.

"Alright . . ." Ron decided it was better to accept what she was talking about, rather than question why she was talking about it. Then he said, without thinking, "Can I go with you?" The words were out of his mouth before he got to think about them, but as soon as he said them, he decided he did want to go with her.

Hermione looked at him skeptically, as if she could tell he said this without thinking, "You don't really want to go . . . do you?"

"You know," Ron said thoughtfully, "I do. I do want to go. I've barely met your parents, so maybe I could get them to like me before they realize I'm a-uh- friend of their daughter's."

For the first time since he found her in the bathroom, Hermione smiled.

"They'd love you," she said, as she leaned back into Ron's chest and rested her head on him, " . . . I do."

After realizing exactly what she said, Hermione turned bright red, and quickly added, "I-I mean as-as . . . friends, or whatever . . ."

Ron frowned. After a moment he asked, "You still just think of me as a friend?"

Hermione sighed, "Well . . . no. But, are you really going to make me decide how I think of you, right now?"

"No . . ." he answered, reluctantly.

They were both silent for a while, until Hermione finally said, "What do you think of me . . ?"

"Um," Ron thought for a moment, "Well . . . I think you're one of the smartest people I've ever met . . . I think you're really nice . . . and really pretty- beautiful, in fact . . ." though Hermione couldn't see it, Ron's face was turning just as red as hers, "And I'm actually starting to wonder why you kissed me . . ."

Hermione frowned, but before she could say anything more than, "Wha-?" Ron continued.

"I mean, I'm guessing it was either just one of those moments where you didn't know what the hell you were doing, or you panicked and it was one of those times where there's a chance you're going to die, so you felt the need to do something completely mental. Or, and I'll be really impressed if it was this one, you knew I fancied you and figured that I might die, so decided to give me a pity kiss . . ." Then Ron said, in a dark- almost wary- voice, "Either way, I get the feeling you regret it."

Hermione looked up at him, "Why would you think that?" her tone almost sounded like she was scolding him.

Ron shrugged, "I dunno . . . why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to!" she insisted, "I wanted to for a long time now! If anything, I should be the one to think that you didn't want to kiss me!"

"And why is that?" Ron challenged.

And suddenly, they were bickering again, arguing again. There was a short moment where it felt like they had never left school. Like there had never been a war. Like many innocent people had never died.

"Because," she answered, "Everything I do is almost always wrong, with you!"

Because she sounded on verge of bursting into tears again, Ron softened his tone, "What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . oh just forget it!" she pulled away from Ron, leaning on the stall wall that was on her other side.

"No, tell me," Ron said, placing his hand on her shoulder, wishing she would lean back into him. The part of his chest that she had her head on felt cold now.

"No. It's stupid. It's just a bunch of ridiculous stuff from the past, that's not even really worth mentioning now . . ."

"Well, we've been through so much the past few months, I thing you deserve to talk about ridiculous things. Plus, if it's bothering you, I want to know . . ."

Hermione looked at him, and she could tell that he really did want to know, "Alright," she sighed, "It's just . . . have you ever wondered where we would be today - you and I, that is - if I had never overheard you insulting me that one time, in our first year? Or if that troll had never come into the girls' room?"

"Well . . . no." Ron answered honestly, though the thought did scare him, "But what does that have to do with you being 'wrong?'"

"I mean, if you think about it, our entire relationship is based off of something arrogant I did, which made you insult me, which made me realize I had no friends, and go cry in the bathroom, which made you guilty enough to save me from a troll, which made us friends. It wasn't because we liked each other or anything, or we had anything in common. It was because you nearly got me killed . . . I mean I was nearly killed. It wasn't your fault. Not really."

Ron was silent for a while. Then he said, "I . . . never really thought of it like that." He thought about it for a moment, "But does it matter? I mean, despite how we became friends, can't we just be glad that we are now? I may not have liked you from the beginning, but I like you now. I really like you now.

"Sure, if someone had told me, after the first time we met, that someday I would . . . well, like you as much as I do now, I would have suggested they visit the psychiatric ward in St. Mungo's, but it just goes to show you can never predict the future."

Hermione practically ignored all this, and continued with the point she was making, "And then in our third year-" Ron sighed heavily at this "-we got into a huge fight, all over a rat! I mean, I know he was important to you at the time, and none of us knew, but it ended up being a traitor of our friend's parents, anyway!"

"Now that was mainly my fault," Ron admitted, "I was the one who accused Crookshanks of eating Scabbers. I was the one who was wrong in the end there, wasn't I? Besides, I was thirteen, Hermione. Everyone but you has done stupid things when they were thirteen."

"I've done stupid things when I was thirteen."

He looked at her skeptically, "Name one."

"I pathetically fancied an idiot of a teacher, I nearly turned myself into a cat, I bought a cat when I was supposed to get an owl, a cat that no one else liked," she thought for a moment, "Not admitting that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers was pretty stupid, and that was when I was fourteen. Even if he didn't really eat him, I was sure, myself, that he had, and I should've admitted that, or at least apologized for it."

"You did though," Ron told her, "right after you told me and Harry about Buckbeak's sentence. Even so, that's not stupid, just stubborn. And I think everyone pathetically fancies someone at some point in their life. Ginny pathetically fancied Harry . . . of course, they ended up dating, so that's a bad example . . ."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I don't see myself dating Lockhart anytime soon . . ."

"Glad to hear that," he muttered in response.

"Anyway," Hermione said pointedly, "Another good example of me being in the wrong, would be-"

Ron sighed again, "Don't say-"

"-the Yule Ball."

Ron scowled, but Hermione continued, "You made no indication that you even wanted to go with me, except asking me, basically, as a last resort, but you still went off on me for going with someone else!

"And I'm sorry, alright? I know it was years ago, but you made me feel really guilty for something that, honestly, I didn't have to feel guilty for."

" . . . I'm sorry," Ron said, sincerely, "I didn't mean to . . . well, I suppose I did mean to make you feel guilty at the time. But you're right, you shouldn't have. That was . . . just me being a prat. You never actually did anything wrong there . . ."

"And what about last year?" Hermione's voice was much softer now, "I . . . I tried last year. When I asked you to the Christmas party . . . I was trying to start . . . something. But then you . . . just blew me off, and you started dating Lavender, so . . . I figured that was . . . some sort of hint. I thought you somehow knew what I wanted, and were trying to tell me that you didn't want the same thing, so that I wouldn't . . . get my hopes up, or something like that."

Now Ron felt guilty, "Is . . . is that what you thought?"

Hermione nodded.

"I . . . am a git." He said lamely, "The real reason why I . . . well, blew you off is . . . way too stupid and ridiculous to tell you, but I promise you, I don't think there was ever a time where I didn't want what you wanted . . . unless it was more than what you wanted."

"Okay, then, if you knew what I wanted, and you wanted the same thing, then why did you . . . prevent what we both wanted from happening?"

"Because I started to doubt that I knew what you wanted. I started thinking that I wanted, well, more."

Hermione wanted to stop Ron there, and tell him it was ridiculous to think he wanted "more," but before she could, he continued.

"In all honesty, I was really just . . . afraid . . . of getting my feelings hurt in the end."

"So you hurt mine instead?" the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. But thinking about, it was the truth. Ron had hurt her.

He gave her a meaningful look, "I'm sorry."

It was minutes before Hermione responded, "It would be a lot easier to forgive you . . . but it wasn't the last time you did something like that!"

Ron frowned.

"You left us!" she yelled hysterically. Once again, she seemed as though she would burst into tears, "You left me! Just because you were a little cold, and a little hungry! And you didn't even think twice about it!" tears were dripping from her eyes by now, "I thought I might never see you again! I cried for days for you, but you probably didn't even care!"

"Of course I cared," Ron said softly, though guilt was burning his insides, "There was really only a short period of time that I wanted to leave. As soon as I disaparated I regretted it. But it made me realize how stupid I was, and I never plan on doing anything like it ever again."

"But it's not like you planned on doing it in the first place, so how would you know you wouldn't do it again?"

"Because now I know what it's like to be away from you. It's unbearable! I realized that I'd rather be freezing and starving with you, than warm and fed without you."

"Well . . . I wish you felt that way before you left."

"I . . . well, I thought I did . . . but, a big part of it was the horcrux. I mean, I'm not trying to make excuses, it was still really awful what I did, but it talked to me! It sounds crazy, I know, and I was stupid for listening to it. But it was saying things that I couldn't stand hearing, things I thought might be true. It was hard not to listen to it."

"What was it saying?" Hermione asked, having absolutely no idea what a horcrux could say, that was so terrible, it made Ron want to leave.

He only shook head, though, "I'd, um, rather not tell you . . ."

She looked offended, "Why not?"

"Because it's really stupid, and . . . humiliating, and . . . hardly worth leaving you're two closest friends over."

"You know," Hermione sighed, "If you ever leave me again, I don't know if I could forgive you . . ."

"Well we're not going to find out if you could forgive me or, because I'm never leaving again."

At this, Hermione scooted closer to Ron, until their shoulders were touching. Ron then put his arm around her shoulders, hoping that Hermione would just give in and lean back into his chest. She didn't.

"Everything you brought up was really just me being a git." He said after a while.

"Well maybe that's the point."

Ron raised his eyebrows, "That I'm a git?"

"Well-yeah. I mean, you get mad at me, without even telling me what it is I did, and that causes you to do something stupid, or mean and unfair. And even now, that I've forgiven you, you still can't tell me what it is I did."

He thought about it. Hermione was right.

"That's the thing though," he said, "You never actually did anything to deserve how I treated you, so there's nothing to tell."

"I just want to know what upset you, then."

Ron closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

After a while, Hermione gave up, and leaned back into Ron's chest.

They both sat like that, with their eyes closed, for what seemed like forever.

Eventually Ron opened his to look at Hermione. Then he saw that she had fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight; she looked so peaceful.

He gently shook her shoulder, "Hermione," he whispered, "I think you should go up to the Gryffindor tower, and get some sleep."

"'m perfectly fine where I am, thank you very much . . ." she muttered sleepily, refusing to open her eyes.

"You're sitting on a bathroom floor, leaning against a toilet . . ."

"Actually," she corrected, "You're leaning on a toilet. I'm just leaning on you."

Ron smiled, but still started getting up, "Come on. You're exhausted. You should get some sleep."

"I was sleeping, until you woke me up," she pointed out, grumpily.

"I meant in a dormitory," he said, "Not a bathroom."

Reluctantly, Hermione got up with him, and let him lead her to the door.

so...what'd you think? please review

also, BOUGHT MY COPY OF HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS TODAY! just had to share that... really excited...watching it as i type this... :D