Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron's name amongst the trees. He wished she wouldn't. Ron was long gone by now, and he knew that he wasn't coming back. This had never been Ron's battle. Not Ron's fight. For that matter, it wasn't Hermione's either but her loyalty to himself prevented her from leaving. Her worry for him, that he wouldn't make it alone, kept her there. Ron did not worry for him. How was it always so easy for Ron to turn his back on him? He walked over to the chair that Ron had thrown the horcrux into. He picked it up, turning the cold locket over in his hands. He walked the length of the tiny tent to get to his campbed, still holding the locket. It always felt heavy. Cold. Isolated. As if the piece of soul inside it was just as evil as the real walking, talking, breathing Voldemort. He clasped the locket around his neck, listening to the Rain plunk hard outside.
"Ron! Ron! Ron, come back!"
Each time she said his name was like a painful stab in the chest. And feeble though it was, each time Harry hoped there would be an answer. Ron had walked out, but that didn't mean they needed him any less. It didn't mean Harry needed him any less.
"Ron! Ron! Ron! Ronald Weasley! You come back here!"
Her voice was getting weaker, hoarse. It broke on the word Weasley and all he could hear for a few moments were her sobs.
"Please…Please…RON!"
Harry stood up quickly, striding towards the entrance flaps. It was raining exceptionally hard now and Harry was soaked through within minutes, but he just couldn't listen to Hermione call for him anymore, couldn't leave her out here all night calling for him fruitlessly. She was only a little distance away, making her way back through the trees, still calling his name.
"Ron!" She stepped down hard on the leaves, her hair was plastered to her face from the rain, and she was starting to shiver from being so cold.
"Ron!" She screamed, getting desperate now. "Ron!" She yelled again, her voice trembling.
"Ro-"
"Hermione." Harry had closed the gap between them without her noticing. He grabbed her arms, holding her perhaps a bit more tightly than he should've. He spoke her name as if his life depended on it. "Please. Come inside."
They were both silent for a moment, staring at each other, the rain pelting down around them. Neither of them knew how long they spent staring at each other but, Harry actually started to shiver, and then Hermione collapsed on him. She was crying so hard that she couldn't breathe, and Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her. She was completely broken. This mission had been anything but easy and now, Ron had left them. Walked out on them both, and it, Harry was sure, had been the last straw for Hermione. He held her close, his chin resting on top of her forehead.
"I know." He whispered, though he didn't really think he had to say anything at all. They stood like that for a long time. Until their clothes were utterly ruined and they were so cold that each of their skins were turning blue in turn. They finally went inside after what felt like hours. Harry went over to his camp bed, immediately beginning to change out of his wet clothing. Her heard a soft plop, which usually indicating Hermione falling onto her bed, and knew Hermione hadn't even bothered. He turned his head just a little to look at her. She looked so small curled up on her bed in a purple sweater that clung to her body because of the rain, and the jeans that looked amazingly uncomfortable. He threw his wet T-shirt on the bed, abandoning the effort of changing in favor of taking care of her.
He sat down on the edge of her bed, reaching a hand out to touch her back for a few moments.
"Don't you want to change? You must be freezing…and…Pajamas might be a little more comfortable. Come on, don't you have something in that brilliant beaded bag of yours?"
Hermione sniffled, but didn't say anything else.
Harry was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned down close to her ear and whispered,
"You've still got me."
Hermione turned then, her eyes meeting his for a moment.
"I've still got you." She whispered back.
He nodded a little, a small smile taking over his lips. "Always." He patted her hair for a few moments before getting up again and crossing the room to his own bed.
He changed out of his wet jeans and into his attire for sleep these days. A white T-shirt and striped blue pajama pants.
He lay in silence for a few moments, listening to Hermione's sniffles. It had to be at least an hour before either of them spoke again.
"Harry?"
He answered instantly as though he'd been simply waiting for her to say his name.
"Yeah?"
"Nothing in my brilliant beaded bag will bring Ron back."
It was silent for a few moments and then Harry finally answered her.
"I know."
But Hermione was already fast asleep.