Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. If it was, I'd be rich, which I can assure you that I am most definitely not.

A/N: I had an angsty moment; this is what I came up with.

One Last Breath

Ron had thought she was going to die. There had been screams and shouts and Ginny was crying. Harry was stood beside her, his hand placed firmly against her shoulder as she sobbed, his own eyes glistening with fresh tears. He had been sure she was going to die. They all had. He'd knelt beside her body, cowered over her, clung onto her hand and prayed for a miracle.

His hands had been trembling. He'd wanted to be so strong for her but he'd watched the light leave her eyes and his heart had shattered. She looked so vulnerable lying there, pale and fragile and everything that Hermione Granger wasn't.

Clasping her tiny hand between his own, he had shut his eyes and then pressed his lips to her cool skin in a chaste kiss. He sat like that for ten minutes, maybe twenty, he hadn't been counting. He stroked her hand, his fingertips brushing her wrist from time to time and then suddenly, he felt the murmur of a pulse beneath her skin. He sat up, startled, a breath catching in his throat.

Words tumbled from his mouth. Quick, hurried sentences that informed the others she wasn't dead. He picked her up in his arms, cradled her against his body and carried her all the way to St. Mungo's. He refused to let her go again.

For two days he sat at her bedside, holding onto her hand so tight. Occasionally he'd feel movement, her fingers curl around his own slightly or a simple twitch. He felt a rush of excitement each time. She'd be back with him again soon enough, standing over his shoulder and telling him what to do and what to say with her businesslike tongue. He missed that. He may have hated it sometimes but she would never change and he didn't want her to either.

On the third day, she gripped his hand and her eyes fluttered open a little. Harry had been there on that day, too. They hadn't even been paying attention, instead talking about happenings at the Ministry and the latest Quidditch match. Hermione didn't appreciate being ignored, even when she lay unconscious in a hospital bed.

It took seven hours for her to come round completely and neither Ron nor Harry moved from her side. By the evening, Ginny had joined them, standing behind Harry's chair, her arms looped around his neck. Ron had sat close to the bed, stroking Hermione's palm with his fingertips and talking to her in hushed tones.

When they were told to leave, he reluctantly rose from his seat and promised himself that tomorrow he would tell her everything.

He hadn't come that close to losing her since their second year at Hogwarts. He remembered the moment like it had happened yesterday and even now it still scared him.

They'd been through so much together and had always come out on the other side unscathed. Together they were strong. But this wasn't necessarily a good thing, sometimes Ron forgot that they were vulnerable too and that one day, one of them might not make it after all.

The war had almost come to its inevitable end and he had built up this imaginary cocoon around them all, thinking that they were safe from danger now. They weren't and they never would be.

Morning came and Ron walked through the corridors of St Mungo's, his hands shoved into his pockets and his gaze to the floor. He was petrified; what if she never spoke to him again? Several unspoken words could bring about the end of their seven year friendship.

By the time he reached her ward, he found her sat up in her bed, her face hidden behind a curtain of bushy hair. She had a book in her hands, a ridiculously big book in Ron's opinion, and was presently ignoring her current guest. Sat at her bedside, staring up into space, was Luna Lovegood.

At the sound of his footsteps Luna's head shot around and she smiled up at him dreamily. 'Hello, Ronald,' she said. 'Beautiful day isn't it?'

He stared at her because he wasn't quite sure what else to do. Luna was the last person he'd expected to see today. 'Uh… yes,' he managed eventually.

Luna nodded her head, wild curls of blonde hair falling over her eyes, and then jumped up from her seat. 'Hermione said she was looking forward to seeing you today,' she continued. 'I'm leaving now.'

His eyes moved from the eccentric Ravenclaw before him and focused on his friend, who appeared to be blushing quite ferociously now while muttering something under her breath.

With a smile, Ron said goodbye to Luna and headed over to join Hermione, slumping down into the recently vacated chair. 'You were looking forward to seeing me?' he asked eagerly, leaning forward and folding his arms on the edge of the bed.

Hermione shook her head and waved her hand dismissively, hiding her face behind her book once more. She made no conscious effort to speak to him. He'd have to do all the work it seemed.

'Hermione,' he started gingerly, to which he received a faint grunt in reply. 'Can you stop reading for a second? I want to talk to you about something.' He could feel his hands shaking already. Convinced she wouldn't lower the book, he cleared his throat loudly to gain her attention instead. She looked disgruntled when she finally placed the hardback down onto her lap.

'I thought you were going to die,' said Ron bluntly. 'Harry did, too.'

For a second he found himself cringing at his own words. Why did he have to bring Harry into this? In fact, why did he have to bring Harry into anything at all? They could have a normal conversation for once without having to talk about their friend.

'Ron-'

'No, don't say anything; I want to get this out,' he interrupted quickly. The last thing he needed was Hermione taking over the conversation before he had the opportunity to voice anything he wanted to say.

Beside him, Hermione clamped her mouth shut tight, her hazel eyes full of curiosity; her book long forgotten.

Ron pulled his chair closer to the bed, clasping his hands in front of him and catching her gaze determinedly. 'I thought you were going to die,' he repeated for effect. 'You were cold and pale and lifeless… and bloody hell, I thought I was going to lose you and I've never been so scared in my whole life!' The words left his mouth so quickly that he barely understood them himself.

Hermione, however, smiled at him and reached her hand out for his. 'I'm OK, Ron,' she said. 'Stop worrying. I'll always be OK.'

'No…' He shook his head, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her anymore.

Apparently she sensed his discomfort and he felt the grip she had on his hand tighten, her nails cutting into his skin. 'Ron, what's wrong?' she questioned. 'Has something happened while I've been in here? Tell me.'

He shook his head again, quite happy to hide behind his hair as his ears turned a fetching shade of pink. 'Nothing's happened, nothing bad,' he told her, speaking more slowly now. 'But something might, something could, and I don't want to lose the chance to tell you...' He finished there, his words falling away. He hadn't decided quite what it was he wanted to tell her just yet.

'Tell me what, Ron?' asked Hermione, still sounding quite worried.

His gaze lifted to her face a moment and he felt his stomach jerk involuntarily. Now he really was nervous. He cleared his throat again, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand. 'How I feel,' he supplied awkwardly.

There, straight to the point, but he couldn't hold her gaze anymore. He snapped his eyes shut quickly.

Clearly amused by his comment, Hermione gently pried, 'And how do you feel?'

Ron could almost hear her smiling when she spoke; so he had to open his eyes and attempt to look her in the eye. 'Oh, I, well… uh,' he stumbled over his words, his cheeks ablaze and his mouth going dry. 'Erm...'

She laughed. She actually laughed at him. Yet, it was a short and sweet laugh that rang in his ears and made him shiver. 'Ron?' she tried again, tucking her untamed hair behind her ears.

Now he felt like an idiot.

'I really like you, Hermione,' said Ron, biting the bullet at last, 'I think I always have.'

Her fingers flexed within his grasp and she loosed his hand slowly. He knew it; he'd gone and ruined everything now, their friendship was over. What would Harry say if he found out they weren't speaking anymore? How could they possibly work together now?

A moment later, he felt her fingertips brush his palm and she sighed softly. 'I know,' she replied absently. 'You've never been very good at concealing things, Ron; you wear your heart on your sleeve. I was waiting for you to realise.' She smiled. 'It took a little longer than I thought it would. You're so hot-headed all the time, ignoring what's really there.'

He heard what she was saying, but he couldn't quite take it all in. 'Ignoring what's there?' he repeated curiously.

'See.' Hermione laughed again, lifting his hand up slightly and pressing her fingertips to his in midair. 'Even now you're ignoring it.'

Ron remained tight-lipped for a moment, staring at their hands, and then it dawned upon him. She liked him too. She had done for years. He'd been so stupid. Lifting his eyes to hers, he smiled, showing her that he understood what she meant at last. 'I think I might stop now,' he said, nodding to himself.

She beamed over at him, her eyes dancing with mirth. 'Good, because we've wasted enough time,' she told him. 'I need you with me for the rest of this battle.'

'You won't get rid of me now,' Ron reassured her. 'Not ever.'

'Promise?' her tone was challenging.

He kissed the back of her hand, holding her gaze firmly. 'Promise,' he retorted.