"Ron I'm..." she stared at her hands, rubbing them together as if trying to get a grip on the fear that was developing within. They sat there on the sofa inches apart, surrounded by the unnatural quite of Grimmauld place, save a few bumps from the upstairs bathroom. Harry was no doubt having another vision of Voldemort, but he had made it perfectly clear he did not want to be disturbed.
"Scared?" Ron offered.
She exhaled, smiling slightly at the way he somehow managed to make even this, the brink of a war and the vast challenge that was quickly unfolding before them, so simple to describe. She turned her head and looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows slightly as if longing for him to give her an answer.
But all he could do was stare back, the corner of his lips curving up as he slowly nodded.
"Me too," he whispered, and even though he had offered no solution, somehow she felt safer. It still amazed her the way his presence alone could give her all that she needed. For a few moments they sat there together, gazing blankly ahead at the wall, lost in their wonder of what was to come. They had no leads, no starting point with which to even begin to find the locket horcrux, let alone a means to destroy it or any hint of where the others may lie. Hermione suddenly felt greatly exhausted by all of it - she had been prepared to leave for days but had hoped beyond reason she would be permitted just this night to be a normal girl. To dance with the boy she loved, hold him close and rest her head upon his chest in the guise of a slow song. She had wondered whether the romance of the wedding would finally give her the courage to kiss Ron, or preferably give him the courage to kiss her. At least then that last bit of doubt would be removed from her mind – if he initiated. She had to admit her mind had wondered in the days before, to dreams of him pulling her away from the celebration back into the Burrow, whispering all she wanted to hear and then.. well. Instead it had all been torn away, and yet here she still was, that boy mere inches away. She closed her eyes slightly and felt her head slowly slide down the sofa towards his shoulder. She could hear his breath catch as she rested on it, and only start again once he reached over and placed his hand on her knee. She smiled to herself, even now his touch made her feel warm inside, and she quietly wished she could disapparate them both far from here.
It was dark when she stirred again, Ron had slowly stood up and for a brief second the cold of the room hit her as his warmth melted away into the night. They must have fallen asleep sitting there while Harry was upstairs, though she could make out his outline now deeply sleeping on the other side of the room. Before she could completely awaken though, she felt Ron's hand find hers, pulling her softly onto the couch cushions. He pulled the sleeping bag over her and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. She reached out searching for his hand again.
"Ron..?" she whispered
"I'm here". And somehow his fingers were entwined with hers again, resting on his chest. She could feel his warm breath dancing over her finger tips, and for the first time in weeks, despite everything happening outside this room, Hermione fell asleep smiling.
