Ron thought she looked beautiful in the moonlight. There were air motes swirling around her face where the moonlight shone upon, her lips pale and cracked. He continued to look at her, just staring and staring, until Hermione twisted violently, her fingers digging into the sofa and her teeth biting her lips.

"Hermione. Hermione, are you okay?" He sat up, shaking her awake. Of course she's not okay you git, she's having a nightmare. Well, whatever nightmare she was stuck in, Ron hoped it would be over soon. He hated that feeling of hopelessness, of being unable to help somebody, especially when that somebody was Hermione. He thought back to the countless times she had helped him, knowing he would never be able to repay the favour.

"Hermione. Hermione, wake up." His voice was more insistent now, laced with just a touch of panic.

Hermione gasped, her back arching and she cried out- softly, barely more than a whimper. Her eyes wrenched open and her hands found Ron's face. She cradled his face for awhile, the horror still fresh and vivid in her mind. "Oh, its you. Its you," she murmured, rocking slightly. Slowly her breathing calmed down and her hands slipped from his face.

He was facing opposite her, lying on a mattress in 12 Grimmauld Place, more in love than he thought he could possibly be. "What is it, 'Mione?"

His voice was soft, so soft and comforting. Hermione closed her eyes. "Nothing. Just some...stupid nightmare."

He knew her too well to believe her lie, and cared too much to ignore her tone getting higher as she stumbled over the words to lie to him.

His gaze bores into hers, and she just wants to tell him everything, but she's afraid of sounding so very weak. She shakes her head, and he glares at her. "Tell me, Hermione."

Her voice cracks, coming out so soft he thinks she's just mouthing the words and not really replying him.

"What if…what if we don't defeat Volde... You-Know-Who?"

And then Ron softens, and smiles reassuringly at her, and she knows it's going to be alright, "Course we will 'Mione. We'll knock him dead."

She manages a laugh, and the fear goes away for awhile. It comes back though, but Ron senses it and they spent the whole night talking, about Hogwarts, and Chocolate Frog Cards, and Quidditch and Dumbledore and homework they'll be missing, and sweet, sweet Ronald, so unaware of the effect he has on her, holds her hand dangling from the couch the entire night, stroking her palm with the pad of his thumb, just stroking and stroking…

It's the wee hours of the morning when weak light is streaming through the grimy window when they finally fall asleep.