Well, I read in an interview and also in other fanfics that J.K. Rowling (who owns HP not me :( and those of you who didn't know who J.K. Rowling is should clear off now! Na just kidding, but seriously, go away and come back when you read all the books and watched all the movies multiple times!) Anyways, Jo said (in other words that the Harmony fans tend to warp to say this) that if Ron didn't come back when he did, Harry would've fallen for Hermione (guilty of the warping but at least I can admit it!) so here is my take on things:

Normal POV:
P.S.: Sorry I've forgotten to work on my 2 other fics so I'll have those up a.s.a.p. and I will also finish The Harm an Unfinished Sentence Can Do, sorry this just hit me and this bunny wasn't soft and fluffy like the others that would wait till I had time. Nope. This bunny was either killer rabbit or a blast ended skrewt in disguise. BTW: SHOUTOUT TO HAGRID AND ALL THE CROSSBRED MONSTERS THAT HE HAS NAMED BLAST ENDED SKREWTS! On with the story:
Again, Normal POV:
P.P.S.: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
Sorry, AGAIN, Normal POV:
On with the story:

Harry began to bang desperately on the hard ice above him, in a last attempt to be heard, to be rescued, but after a few moments, the surface of the pool stopped bubbling and the tapping stemmed. There was silence. And then a splash.
A half a minute later, a sopping wet Hermione dragged a dead-looking Harry out of the pond. She was spluttering and gasping for air. She shoved Harry none to gently to awaken him, but he didn't respond. She choked up what looked like at least a gallon of water in one cough and tried to say his name.
Harry finally rolled over. Water gushing out of his mouth, he almost passed out from lack of oxygen.
"Harry?" Hermione said weakly.
"Hermione? Is that you?" He asked hoarsely.
"Yeah," She said in reply, hardly able to breathe.
They sat in silence for a few moments, both trying to catch their breath. Hermione pulled the sword into her hands and passed it to Harry wordlessly. He nodded and set it aside for a moment, pulling the locket from the pile of clothing. Coming to his senses, he realized he was nearly naked in front of his best friend. He jumped to his feet, blushing furiously, and pulled on his jeans and threw his shirts and many sweatshirts and jackets over his head. He was still shivering though, and so was she, but even more violently.
Taking pity on her, he conjured a blanket and held it out to her, along with his newly dried hand to help her to her feet. She seemed having an even harder time breathing than he was when he first awoke. Instinctively, he smacked her on the back. The effect was instantaneous. She spit up a huge amount of water along with probably everything she'd eaten in the past fortnight, which was precious little. When he looked at her, he noticed she looked unnaturally pale and a lot thinner than she had been before, to the point of appearing sickly. He frowned.
Harry patted her softly a few times on the shoulder and she moaned. She just now noticed the blanket he was offering and took it gratefully, still shaking. He found it must've been colder to be in freezing cold clothes than damp ones.
"Are you OK? Are you sure you can breathe all right?" He asked concernedly. She nodded and smiled a bit.
"Can't swim," She murmured. He was shocked. She had dunked herself in the water to save his own life when she could've died in the process. She was still shivering and coughing, and when she breathed it sounded as though a person with an extremely bad lung infection had just ran a marathon. Feeling like she needed it more than he did, he pulled of the top and warmest layer of his many coverings and gave it to her. She looked at him with a look that quite plainly said, "Are you sure?" He nodded, and she pulled it over her own head and her shivers were stifled.
He clapped her on the back once more, and this time she turned a bit blue. Panicking, he ran behind her to do that thing Uncle Vernon had done to Dudley once, (he had forgotten what it was called) but he had the sense to hit her again and she puked what was left of the water in her lungs. He felt terrible for her as she sank weakly onto the ground. He squatted down next to her and offered to help her to her feet again. She shook her head, and he hugged her. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and he pulled her into a standing position.
After a minute or two, she regained her strength and let go of him. For some reason, it seemed to get a bit colder for both of them. She was the first to break the silence.
"So how are we going to destroy it?"
"You're going to destroy it," He said calmly in response.
"What?" Hermione squealed.
"I have a feeling it's supposed to be you, you know, because you were the one who got the sword in the first place." He explained. After about a minute of "C'mon, 'Mione,"s on Harry's part, Hermione finally (and quite reluctantly) agreed.
As though he had known to do this for ages, Harry stood before the locket and hissed in parseltongue. It opened with a small click and for a split second, the both of them stood staring at it. But the problem was, it was only for a split second. The locket spit out to bubbles that morphed and distorted until they had formed strange versions of Harry and Ron. They were handsomer than the real ones, but yet more terrible. They spoke in the voice of Voldemort, which knocked Harry out of his reverie, however unfortunately it did nothing but cause Hermione to cower away.
"Stab it!" Harry bellowed, but it was as though he wasn't there. Then again, he was talking over himself.
"We don't need you. We can kill these things on our own. You're nothing to me. Always an insignificant know-it-all." It jeered.
"I wasn't angry at Harry when I left; I wanted to get away from you and your annoying insecurities." Voldemort-Ron said.
"I hate the mere sight of you. Get lost, Mudblood." Harry-Voldemort said. Hermione was now crying and shaking uncontrollably, as far away as she could possibly get from that locket, her back against the tree.
"Hermione, it's not real! None of it is real! Kill it! Kill it and it'll all go away, I promise!" Harry tried to comfort her, but she had curled up in a little ball and had dropped the sword. He ran towards her but stopped halfway. He turned to see what the locket was doing, because they had stopped insulting her, and he saw himself dead, covered in blood on tile flooring, Voldemort laughing next to him.
"Hermione, KILL IT!" He screamed in a last attempt and she ran forward, the sword in hand, just as the image was getting larger, ready to consume her. She stabbed it just in time. There was a terrible scream, and with that, the locket was gone.
Harry turned to face her, and he felt his heart break to see her, completely terrified, shaking as though someone invisible was cruciating her (but only worse) and crying harder than he'd ever seen anyone ever cry. He went over to her and was about to pull her up, but he stopped.
She doesn't look like she'd be able to walk, he thought. But, he still tried. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder and jumped to her front side to see her face. Tears were running nonstop down her face, her eyes filled with terror.
"Hermione?" Harry said gently. Hearing his voice, she began to panic.
"Hermione, none of it was real! I'm right here! I'm alive and I don't hate the sight of you!" She wasn't listening to him, however. On the contrary, she was screaming at the top of her lungs and sliding away from him franticly. As though he had known to do it all along and he'd just been stalling for some reason, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She immediately ceased her shrieking, but after just a moment, she fainted.

Dun dun dun! What happened to Hermione? Find out in chapter 2! And about The Harm an Unfinished Sentence Can Do, I am NOT discontinuing, I just want to get this up and I also want to get the other 2 fics up which are as of now just plots in my head (don't kill me) that I still need to write. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! But no flames!