A/N: During DH. What made Ron and Hermione fall asleep holding hands? A bit of a songfic. Wrote it in a rush, it may not be the best, oh well, I like it, run-on sentence LOL.

I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through

I've never been perfect, but neither have you

—Linkin Park, "Leave Out All the Rest"

Ron woke up to a sniffling and moaning sound. He turned on his uncomfortable cot to see what it was, and then he caught a glimpse in the moonlight streaming through the tent: Hermione was shaking. She was…crying. He frowned. Except for when Dumbledore died, he had never seen her really cry. She was the strong one, she was the glue. "Hermione?" he said cautiously; he didn't want to be hit or yelled at.

She turned slowly to face him, and now he clearly saw that she had, indeed, been crying. She rubbed her eyes on the back of her hands. "Yes, Ron?" she said hoarsely.

"Are—are you okay?"

She swallowed loudly. "Oh, er, yes… I'm just tired, I suppose…"

He scowled. "You are not, I just saw, you were crying. What's wrong?"

Hermione sat up and crossed her arms. "Nothing is wrong, Ron. I promise."

He lifted himself and walked carefully over to where she was sleeping, so as to not awaken Harry, who was snoring slightly. Sitting next to her, he took a good look at her visage. "Well, Hermione, I suppose you can promise whatever you feel, but from where I'm sitting, it seems that you're not okay."

She blinked a few times. "I'm—I am perfectly—" She didn't get through a sentence before breaking down in quiet, shuddering sobs. He immediately put one arm around her and the other wiping the tears off her cheeks.

She whispered through the tears, "I just… I don't see how the entire wizarding world can depend on us. We're seventeen, Ronald; we haven't even hardly lived yet! And everyone's expecting us to find Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, and generally restore morale all around… We can't do this, Ron. We can't. I can't. I can't take the pressure, I can't live up to everyone's expectations, and I'm not perfect!"

This had obviously been building up for a long, long time. Ron hurt to see how badly this had been weighing on her heart. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "We can, Hermione. We can and we will. And you're going to do it with me—with us." He looked at her deep brown eyes. "How else can I stand going?"

She smiled weakly but said nothing. Ron took this as a good sign and crawled back into his bed. He looked back at her one last time before sleep. "You're strong, Hermione. Always have been."

She reached up and softly grabbed his hand that was hanging off of the bed. He squeezed it and soon fell off into the dark oblivion.