Author's Note: I'm doing NaNoWriMo in November, which will probably take up much of my free time. I'll try to update this story as much as possible before then, but just so you know there will probably be long gaps in between updates soon. Thanks for your patience and for reading/reviewing/following/etc! Also, in case you can't tell, the section in italics is a flashback to the first night Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent in Grimmauld Place after leaving Bill and Fleur's wedding.

They were staying in a tent, of all things. They were Aurors, skilled Dark wizard catchers, and they couldn't even get decent accommodations? Not to mention the fact that tents brought back horrible memories for Ron of searching for Horcruxes. The days of little progress – and little food. The seemingly endless hours of irritable moods from wearing the locket. The fight with Harry that had resulted in –

"Oh," Ron said aloud as a wave of homesickness swept over him. Now he understood.

"What is it?" Harry asked, plumping up the pillow on his cot with a flick of his wand.

"I only just realized why Hermione was so upset when I left. It's because she remembers the time I left her on the Horcrux hunt!" Ron sat down on his own cot and put his head in his hands. "She probably expected me to figure that out a lot sooner."

"She'll be fine," Harry said. "You came back before, didn't you? I'm sure she knows you'll come back this time, too." Was Ron imagining things, or was there a hint of uncertainty in Harry's voice?

"Even so, I think I should send her a letter to apologize," he said. "I promised her I'd write to her anyway, and I've learned from experience that you don't break a promise you make Hermione, especially when you've already broken one."

Ron reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Carefully, he dipped the quill into the ink and then began to write.

Dear Hermione,

I am so sorry I didn't know the reason why you didn't want me to leave. I finally understand now that you recalled the time I abandoned you during the Horcrux hunt. And I promised you that I would never leave you. I must have seemed so insensitive to you, but I swear I wasn't doing it on purpose.

Hermione, I'm going to be home as soon as I can. Please know that I just want you to be safe. You mean the world to me. We may be apart physically, but I'll always be with you in spirit.

Anyway, I'm thinking about you every moment that I'm here. I miss you so much and I've barely been here an hour.

This letter pretty much turned into one giant cliché, didn't it? Oh well. I hope it still makes you feel better. I love you.

Love,

Ron

Ron sealed the letter in an envelope and went to see if there was an owl to send it. He approached the Head Auror, Gawain Robards.

"Mr. Robards, sir," he said formally.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Robards barked. He didn't seem very happy – maybe he wasn't pleased with their lodging either.

Ron cleared his throat nervously. "I was wondering if there was an owl available to mail a letter home to my wife."

"There isn't," Robards said shortly.

"What?" Ron cried, gaping at the Head Auror. He'd assumed there would be a way to send and receive mail. Hermione would worry even more if she didn't hear from him.

"We don't have an owl," Robards said, speaking slowly as if he were talking to a two-year-old.

"Yes, I understand that, but… We can't have any contact with friends or family or anybody?" Ron said.

"We can't risk the letters being intercepted," Robards explained.

"I promised Hermione I'd write to her!" Ron persisted. "She's expecting this letter! And it's not like I told her any confidential information or anything."

"Sorry, Weasley," Robards said. "No exceptions. If we let one person send a letter, then we have to let everyone."

Ron turned and walked away angrily. His chances of survival had just decreased dramatically. Even if he managed to come out of this encounter with the Death Eaters alive, Hermione would murder him when he got home for sure.

Hermione laid awake on top of the sofa cushions on the floor. The full force of what they were planning to do had hit her. They were teenagers, and now they were out in the world by themselves chasing after objects they didn't know where to find to try to defeat the most powerful Dark wizard in the world.

She rolled over onto her side and was startled to see a pair of eyes staring up at her.

"You can't sleep?" Ron asked softly. Hermione shook her head before remembering that Ron probably couldn't see her, but he seemed to take her silence as an answer. "Me neither," he said.

"I'm scared," Hermione confessed. "This is all so overwhelming."

"I know," Ron said. "There are so many questions. Where do we start? What are we going to face? What if we lose each other?"

"Oh, please don't," Hermione said. "I can't bear to think about that!"

"Sorry," Ron said quickly. "I didn't mean that. We'll be fine, Hermione. We'll find those Horcruxes, and we'll be just fine."

"Easier said than done," Hermione said. "This could be really dangerous."

"I'll be here for you. I'll help you through this," Ron vowed. He reached out and took Hermione's hand in his. She was slightly surprised but didn't pull away. After a few seconds, she gripped Ron's hand back.

"Don't let go," she begged. "Don't leave me."

"I won't," Ron said firmly. "I never will."

"No," Hermione whispered to herself. "He hasn't let go. He's coming back. He promised. He wouldn't break his promise. Not again."

Then why hasn't he written to you? a voice in her head wanted to know. Why did he leave you in the first place? What if something happens?

"No!" Hermione said again with more conviction. "He knows what he's doing. He'll be okay."

Why was she finding this so difficult? Ron had been gone less than 24 hours and she was already questioning why he hadn't sent her a letter yet. Hermione tried to remind herself of Neville's words: "He will do everything in his power to come home to you alive and well."

Hermione shook her head vigorously as if it would clear her mind. She needed to distract herself. She went over to her bookshelf and ran her fingers over the well-worn spines. A small smile formed on her lips as her hand wandered to Hogwarts, A History. She'd read it countless times, but it always provided comfort when she needed it.

Sliding the book from the shelf, Hermione took it over to the couch and curled up on the cozy seat. Soon she'd lost herself in its pages, all thoughts of Ron flying from her head.