A desperate Hermione accidentally summons powerful magic when an unconscious Ron is left for dead in favour of the Philosopher stone. My first Soul bonding fic; inspired by there being no Romione stories with soul bonding. Set in first year.

This story sprung up from the lack of soulbonding stories for Ron Hermione. So yeah read and review.

A terrified Hermione gently cradled Ron's head; his head lolled back blood pooling around his head like some kind of grotesque halo.

"Ron you're so stupid. Why would you go and sacrifice yourself You could have found another way. Your so stupid, stupid, stupid, stup-" a sob caught in her throat "wake up, wake up, wake up, WAKE UP."

"Miss Granger?" Hermione sat up startled and looked over her shoulder.

"Professor!" She collapsed in on herself in relief. Thank God, Ron he was going to be okay and Harry as well. They were all saved. However his next words brought her crashing back down to earth

"Miss Granger, can I expect you to take care of Mr Weasley while I save Harry and get back the philosopher stone.

"Wait what? Please professor I can't do this on my own. Professor Ron," however Dumbledore had already exited the room and proceeded onto the next room. Whether he heard her or not was unknown but what she did know was that Ron and her weren't important. She glanced down at his face and to stop herself from fainting Ron's face was so pale even his hair seemed to have dimmed slightly.

Get a hold of yourself Hermione; Ron needs you right now.

You need to save him. You need to save stupid, insensitive, annoying,lazy, disgusting, kind, brave, funny, bold, smart, loyal Ron. Her hand tightened around her wand (when did she reach for her wand) and this need to save, protect, heal Ron possessed her. Must heal Ron. Must save Ron. Must protect Ron. These thoughts were on a continuous replay like a chant.

Magic flowed through her entire body and suddenly she is reminded of when her wand chose her. It's the same feeling but... but it's fiercer, wild, powerful and most of all ancient. Its old, older than her older than anything. The closest comparison she can think of is books. The really ancient kind that tells story through the smell and the touch taste it leaves in her mouth once she's finished not the actual words.

It's like her magic is searching for something. She wills it to latch onto Ron and it does seeping into his skin deep into the marrow of his bones. However she is soon broken out her thoughts by Ron who stirs and lets out a groan. The groan however doesn't sound like he's in pain quite the contrary actually in fact its quite pleasant. His faces scrunches up and she knows almost instinctively that it's because of her magic.

This only pushes her to force more magic down this connection or whatever it is However she is beginning to tire and she can feel fatigue clouding her eyesight. She feels a tentative weak brush against her own magic; so weak that if she hadn't been concentrating she would have completely missed it. Is that... Ron?

'Take' his voice is loud and so very Ron-like but there is a certain type of vulnerability that makes her want to cry (and not the pretty type either).

'Take' he repeats again his magic is pushing against her own trying to give her some strength.

'No I'm supposed to save you." She is being stubborn and she knows it but she still owes Harry and Ron for saving her from the troll.

She can almost feel him roll his eyes at her comment 'like hell you do now stop being a twat and let me help you silly cow.' She can feel herself rising to the bait and she opens her mouth to reply with a snappy comeback but she's either too tired or she doesn't care. She can't pick between the two options.

Instead she nods. Okay.

Everything explodes into a kaleidoscope of colours and light. She sees no more.

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She's hears incoherent mumbling it's all a jumble of sounds and words that don't have any meaning. But there is someone calling her. The words he (definitely a he) speaks are as clear as day.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," her eyes flash open, or at least she tries to but the slightest bit of movement feels like trying to lift up 100kg weight, impossible.

"Hermione, Hermione are you there," Ron it's Ron; she was suddenly flooded with euphoria and relief. A ridiculous yet acute desire to cry also floods her senses.

"Shit, Hermione don't cry. I'm all right, see." he says quickly. The waves of awkwardness that are rolling off Ron is almost tangible.

"I can't help it. I'm so happy that you're okay," she sobs; for a moment she pauses "and don't swear Ronald."

Ron snorts but then he says gently "I'm fine don't worry about me. What about you are you okay and what about Harry as well?" For a moment she is touched by his concern however this is soon wiped clean by his next words "and I'll bloody well swear whenever I want to."

She decides to quite kindly ignore his last comment "I'm fine and Harry probably is as well. Since Dumbledore went after him." She mutters the last part careful to keep any animosity out of her voice. She can feel Ron's relief. She pauses a moment carefully evaluating this; she can feel Ron's relief. Why can she feel Ron's relief? Her thought process goes into overdrive; shutting down all systems along the way. This shouldn't be possible it was in every book she had ever read this wasn't possible. It wasn't possible you had to be a legilimens to be able to do this and she was more than a 100% sure that neither her or Ron were legilimens.

How was this possible was she dreaming, were they dead, or was she under some kind of spell.

"Calm your tits Hermione," Ron says popping out from wherever he had been in the first place. She can feel herself going red with anger.

"I will not calm my tits Ronald Weasley," her voice is deadly and like ice; there is no room for argument and she is half waiting with baited breath for him to rise to the challenge like a fiery phoenix.

And he does with all his Gryffindore courage "for the love of Merlin's baggy fat arse wake the hell up." She does and it is like someone has hooked a rope around her navel and has yanked her up to consciousness, it is not a pleasant experience.