A/N: This is the first chapter of a little Romione missing moments ficlet that I have been working on this week. I am a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy! There will be two more chapters and an epilogue...stay tuned for more!

She knew that she should go to bed, that it might be a bit improper and presumptive to stay, but she had known that when she made the reckless decision to come back to the hospital wing. After all the months of anger and avoidance, she just couldn't wait another minute to see him again, to be reassured that we was alive.

As she watched his sleeping form, just the sight of his chest rising and falling was a miracle, she could not help but think about how close she had come to losing him.

Even if you never really had him, not in the way you wanted…

She sighed heavily at the thought, but dedicated herself to her newfound mission: to put her unrequited feelings aside, and be the best friend she could be. He deserved to be happy; it wasn't his fault that he preferred pretty blondes. She had known him long enough to know his "type"; it was definitely not bushy-haired, nightmare, know-it-alls.

OK…enough of that…remember he DID say YOUR name in his sleep. That has to mean something doesn't it? Well, he probably just heard my voice and was so surprised that he…what if he was trying to tell me to leave? Maybe I should go…

She stood reluctantly, and gasped audibly when Ron's hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. His eyes looked wild as she stared down at him.

"Two thousand…eight hundred….fifty-six" He repeated the numbers very solemnly.

"Ron? Are you okay?"

"Or is it fifty-seven?!"

"Maybe I should get Madame Pomfrey. She said you might be a little disoriented when you woke up."

"Hermione?" The wild look was replaced by confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I…I thought…I…..was just going," she needed to go before the tears that were stinging her eyes spilled over her lashes. She berated herself for being so stupid as to think he would want to see her at his bedside.

"NO!" His grip on her wrist tightened and his voice cracked at the effort of shouting.

"You mustn't shout; you'll hurt yourself. I'll stay…if you want me to."

"'Course I do." His answer was so earnest that it nearly took her breath; she had known him long enough to know when he was just being polite.

He was still holding on to her; a fact that caused her heart to pound so loudly that she was certain he must be able to hear it.

"Alright then, I'll stay. Do you need anything?"

Anything at all?

"No, I'm fine. Just a little confused. What happened?"

"You were poisoned. Harry saved you." Her knees felt weak, understandable considering her physical exhaustion. However, if she were honest it would be more accurately attributed to her being so close to him, touching him, looking into his eyes while once again thinking about what could have happened. She must have swayed slightly because his brow furrowed.

"Are you okay? You should sit down. How long have you been here?"

She once again took the seat that had held her vigil throughout the night. He released her wrist with a gentleness that she would have sworn was reluctance, but she tried not to let herself think such fruitless thoughts.

"I am fine; honestly, you're the one who almost…" she would not say it aloud; it hurt too much.

Don't cry…don't cry…be strong.

"Hey, come on. What would a year at Hogwarts be without one of us being in here? I reckon it was my turn." He flashed her that grin and, even coming from his scarily pale face, that was enough to break the tension. Soon they were both laughing, a laugh that brought the edges of their wounds together for mending.

"Well, I guess I will give you that. Madame Pomfrey might be out of a job or at the very least be terribly bored without us here." She wiped her eyes, glad for the excuse that the laughing fit had given her.

"And really, 'Mione, I'd rather it be me than you…or Harry."

How does he do that? Why does he do that? Can't he see that my poor heart can't take this?

"Don't you think it's high time you come down off that giant chess piece? Give someone else the chance to be noble?" She kept her voice light, but the seriousness of her intent seeped in around the edges of her words.

"Not when it comes to you." His eyes bored into hers so intensely that she could not bear to look away.

"And Harry, right?" She wanted him to be clear; she would not let herself be misled.

"Yeah, and Harry."

The silence threatened to grow between them, but she made one last attempt to preserve this moment: just the two of them.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything? There's water, and I may have something to eat in my bag."

"Sounds perfect, but only if you join me."

He sipped the glass of water she had poured him while she rummaged through her bag to find the sandwich she had never gotten around to eating for her dinner. She felt a little self-conscious, his eyes following her movements. As they ate, a new feeling of normalcy asserted itself, and they fell back comfortably into old patterns as they talked about the events of the evening.

"If nothing else, it is a birthday I will never forget." She would have scolded him for talking with food in his mouth, but his comment woke her up.

"Oh, Ron! I missed your birthday! I feel terrible!" She was careful not to say she had forgotten because that would have been a lie.

"Don't worry about it. I can't exactly blame you for missing it."

"Yes, you can. I have been a horrid friend….I…."

"You? I'm the one that…" he fumbled for words, and as much as she had fantasized these past weeks about him groveling at her feet in apology, in this moment it no longer mattered.

"Come now, all this isn't good for you. You need your rest."

"No, I'm fine, really," he tried unsuccessfully to fight back a yawn.

"No arguing; it's time for you to get some sleep, it's late."

"It can't be that late."

I swear that grin will be the death of me.

"Actually," she said, peering through the dim light at the clock at the other end of the large room, "it is a quarter past two in the morning."

"Right. Maybe we should go to bed…I mean to sleep…I mean you should…can you go back? I don't want you to get detention because of me. Not to mention what happened to me and Katie, it might not be safe for you to go wandering around so late by yourself."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, you could stay here. There are plenty of empty beds."

She was conflicted. It felt like too much too soon, but he was right: it wasn't the best idea for her to be alone in the halls at this hour. Combine that with pure exhaustion and the weakness brought on by his earnest expression, and she was done in.

"Ok, but let me get you settled first." She fluffed his pillows and straightened his blankets. "Do you need anything else?"

"I'm fine, go get some sleep."

She turned down the bed closest to his and removed her shoes and jumper before crawling in and dimming the lights even further.

"Good night, Hermione. Thanks for being here."

"Good night, Ron. Thank you for being here! Don't scare me like that again, ok?"

"I'll do my best."

Happiness spread through her, and despite the strangeness of the bed and the fact that she was still fully clothed, she slipped quickly toward the best night's sleep she had experienced in months. Just before consciousness left her, she could have sworn she heard Ron whisper something that sound like the numbers he had repeated when he first awoke, but she too far gone to wonder what they meant.