A/N: So, I know that most of my readers are probably familiar with the fact that I almost always delve into PG-13 (at least) territory at some point in a story... But I did realize that I probably should have put a warning on this chapter. Here is this chapter again, updated with a content warning. I am also increasing the rating on this. Sorry if I offended anyone when I posted without the warning :( Well... on with the show.

Chapter 12 - Shell Cottage

"She's going to be okay, she's going to be okay," Ron sobbed to himself over and over as his bloodshot eyes remained fixed on Hermione's still form in the bed where Fleur was attending to her. She looked so small in the big guest bed, Ron thought as he watched her, his whole body shaking. She had to be alright, and now, all Ron could do was to try and convince himself of this, that it would be okay...

Bill stood in the hallway outside, glancing in on them every few minutes. Harry, Griphook and Dobby were surely back by now and Ron had caught sight of Luna, Dean and Mr. Ollivander in the kitchen on his way up, but he spared no thoughts for them now. He felt more helpless than he ever had, standing in the shadows as he desperately watched his sister in law try to save his... his what? He had no right to even hope-

"Ron," came Fleur's concerned voice from Hermione's bedside. "You need to step outzide while I get her out of zis dirty jumper."

Ron's eyes flashed as he glared at the back of Fleur's head. He had no intentions of doing what she asked. Fleur turned around to face him.

"Go on," she said, glancing from Ron to the door.

"I'm not leaving," Ron said firmly.

"Ron..." Fleur began, but Ron interrupted, his voice frantic and afraid.

"I'm not leaving."

Fleur opened her mouth to protest again, but Ron cut in before she could speak.

"I'm not that thick. I know what you're going to tell me, that it's not appropriate for me to stay. I'll look away when you... but I'm not leaving."

Fleur studied Ron for a brief moment, pondering his words. He felt her eyes bore into him in a somewhat frightening way, like she could read his thoughts. Then again, it must be fairly obvious what was on his mind. He had burst into his brother's home with Hermione in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, his face covered in blood and sweat and fresh tears...

"Eet iz not fair to her, not to have a choice..." Fleur said slowly.

"She wouldn't want me to leave," Ron countered, his voice much more confident than he felt.

He honestly didn't know if Hermione would want him to stay for this or not, but he wasn't about to give Fleur any reason to doubt him, to force him out of the room, because she'd have to hex him, and it would have to be a very good hex, for him to move even an inch back from where he was currently standing. He already felt much too distant from Hermione, but Fleur had instructed him to stay back while she helped Hermione, and Ron had no desire to interfere with whatever medical care Fleur was administering.

"Alright," Fleur said finally. "Look away," she added as she reached for the bottom of Hermione's jumper. Ron lowered his eyes and turned his head to the left. Bill's feet stepped into Ron's new line of vision, paused, then exited again, back out into the hallway.

"Bill, stay out there," Ron said quickly without looking up.

"Got it," came Bill's tired voice from the hallway.

Ron's eyes filled with tears again as he stared down at the floor, and all the details in the rug that he had been studying before blurred together as his eyes became wetter and wetter. He closed his eyes, felt a few tears slip free, but did not bother to wipe them away. The room was full of the sounds of quiet shuffling in the bed where Fleur was undressing Hermione, but suddenly, and so softly he could almost have missed it, came a new sound...

"R-rn..."

Ron's eyes snapped open, and before he could think about what he was doing, he was rushing to her bed, all regard for looking away from her lost as he pushed past Fleur.

"Ron!" Fleur exclaimed, pulling Hermione's blanket up over her chest, trying but failing to block Ron from her. Ron didn't seem to even notice as he watched Hermione's eyes fluttering open.

"Hermione?" he cried through a heavy sob as he leaned over her, tears streaming down his face again.

Her eyes darted as she tried to focus on him, and finally, she let out a relieved whimper as their eyes met. She tried to move up off her pillow towards him, but he reached her first. His arms flew around her and he gathered her to his chest as he sat carefully on her bed. He buried his face in her hair and she clung to his jacket, her fists balled into the thick material.

"You're okay, you're okay..." Ron mumbled into her hair, more to reassure himself as he held her cold body against his own. He moved his right arm slightly against her, and suddenly, his bare hand came into contact with her bare back, and it hit him just what he had done...

He lifted his head very cautiously from her hair, his eyes still red and wet, but widening now. Hermione shivered against him, and he became suddenly aware of Fleur where she stood near the door holding a clean jumper.

"Sorry..." Ron whispered, but as he was about to pull back from Hermione, he realized that moving might be even worse at this point considering her naked chest was pressed against his shirt, hidden from his view for the time being... He felt his face heat up and was momentarily overwhelmed by so many emotions. His heart was still racing out of his fear from before, his face was soaked in his recent tears, and now... his cheeks and ears burned as he held the girl he loved, the girl he'd die for, half-naked in his arms...

But Hermione sniffed and pulled back just a bit from him, enough to look up at him, her face as pale as he had ever seen it, her eyes sunken and worn down... Fleur moved closer to them when she saw Hermione pulling away.

"Here," she said softly. "I 'ave a clean jumper for you."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then looked away from Ron. He let her go and averted his eyes at the exact same instant, standing and turning his back on the bed as Fleur stepped forward to help Hermione into the jumper.

His heart was beating so furiously in his chest that he could feel and even hear it inside his own ears, blood pounding through his veins so fiercely that the sound of it seemed to muffle everything else, all other noises in the room. Hermione's voice, however, was the one sound that could cut through anything. He absurdly wondered if he would still be able to hear her if he went deaf one day...

"Ron..." Hermione croaked and he turned back to face her again, not quite looking directly at her. "It's okay..." she whispered, and he looked up so slowly, taking in every bit of her, every bit that was still alive, still here with him!

"Fleur!" came Bill's voice from the hallway. "I think Harry's here..."

Fleur rushed out of the room as she shouted...

"Is he alright?"

"Yeah, looks like it," came Bill's voice as Fleur joined him in the hallway and closed the door behind her.

But Ron didn't even look over to watch her go. His eyes fixed on Hermione, he knitted his eyebrows together, the corners of his eyes wet and glistening...

"Are you... alright?" he asked Hermione, needing her to say it more than anything, more than seeing it.

She nodded weakly and very tentatively raised her hands towards him, her cheeks glowing pink. Accepting her invitation, Ron rushed forward and slid onto her bed a bit clumsily, his knees knocking into the mattress before he settled next to her, pausing another second before hugging her again. The smell of her hair filled his nostrils and his vision. It was all he could see from where his face was pressed into her curls.

"God, I'll kill her!" Ron shouted suddenly, squeezing Hermione tighter against him as rage shoved grief aside. Hermione squealed softly, and, horrified, Ron released her, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. "Did I hurt you?" His voice trembled as a string of curse words rattled around inside his head.

"No," she said gently, shifting on the bed so her back rested against the headboard. "You can't hurt me." He didn't quite believe her.

Ron's eyes flicked down to Hermione's chest. He had seen a dark bruise there earlier through a tear in her jumper.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Ron muttered to himself, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. "Just stay back. I don't want to-"

"Ron," Hermione half sobbed, interrupting him as she watched him, "you saved my life..."

"What?" Ron asked suddenly, looking up at her, startled.

"You did, didn't you..."

"I..." He hadn't thought of it that way before, had only acted out of fear and fury. His brain had not been functioning normally but had been consumed with something fiery and insane, like a fuse that had never been used before had been lit the moment he first heard her screams from above, out of his reach...

"You saved me," she repeated, looking awed but drained.

"Hermione..." Ron whimpered, unable to form any other words.

She was alive... and could that really be because of him, even in some small way? He honestly didn't care if it was true, didn't crave the glory or victory of having been her savior. And yet, he was in some way. He thought back to how he'd felt the night he'd saved Harry from the pool. It was only what he had to do. He had only acted out of impulse and need, not out of bravery or pride. But maybe they were all the same, all jumbled up into one big... thing... something he had been that he'd always thought he wasn't...

Good.

"Is everyone else alright?" Hermione asked suddenly, changing the subject.

"I think so... but I don't really know," Ron admitted, feeling guilty again. "I brought you up here and have been with you ever since..."

Hermione nodded in a very understanding way, but there was something else mixed into her soft and tired expression... something like joy... surprise, perhaps... admiration?

Ron ran his hands over his face, wiping away the remnants of his tears. He let out an unsteady breath through his fingers, and as he lowered his hands, he shut his eyes. He felt Hermione's fingers tugging his and he opened his eyes again to stare at her, letting all of his love for her spill from him, a dam bursting open as she gazed back at him, intertwining their fingers.

"I really fucked up," Ron blurted out.

Hermione shook her head very slightly, confused.

"I left you!" Ron whispered harshly, his eyes wide with horror, guilt seeping from every part of him. "And don't tell me again that you've forgiven me and I shouldn't think about it because I bloody well will still think about it! It's not like I just took a little walk and came right back. I left you for months, Hermione! Everything you said, when you were pissed with me when you saw me again, was totally right and I can't move past it! Even if you've forgiven me, which you shouldn't have..."

"Ron, please," Hermione begged, her voice weak with the strain of speaking even as much as she had. "You don't understand..." she sighed, looking away from him as she visibly tried to think of how to explain things properly.

Ron waited patiently for her to go on, knowing that she would. When she looked up at him again, she had her speech ready, he could tell...

"The thing is, yes, you were a prat for leaving me... us," Hermione corrected, her cheeks glowing light pink again, "but you did come back. Ron, the point isn't the mistakes we've made but how we felt about what we did. I've made mistakes too-"

Ron opened his mouth to argue but Hermione shook her head to silence him.

"Of course I have! We all have..."

"Not like this," Ron said sadly.

"Is there really that big of a difference between them all though? You still did something without thinking, still left before you realized what the consequences might be. If you had thought about it, before you left, and knew that you wouldn't be able to come back... ever... would you have done it?"

"Of course not..."

"Exactly," Hermione whispered, smiling as tears pooled in her eyes again.

"But I might not have been able to come back! It's a miracle that Dumbledore managed to understand me well enough to give me the one thing that I needed to reach you again. And you... I hurt you so much Hermione... and I keep hurting you... over and over, year after year," Ron sighed, letting go of her hand, bunching her blanket in his fist loosely. "And do you know what happened to me when you were up there... and when we were... down in that dungeon... I could hear you screaming and..."

Ron choked on his own words and had to stop to catch his breath. Hermione watched him, tears welling more thickly in her eyes now.

"And I just kept thinking," Ron finally went on, "what if I had never found you, if I wasn't back yet and you and Harry were caught and taken to the Malfoys' place and all of this had happened while I was stuck here... sulking and hating myself... and you could have... could have died and I..." Ron's voice broke into a sudden and uncontrollable sob, one that ripped through his chest and almost drowned him, choking as he tried to breathe.

He felt Hermione's fingers lace into his again. The comfort of her touch caused his body to shake, more tears rushing quickly down his face to join their predecessors currently soaking the front of his t-shirt.

"G-give me one r-reason why you shouldn't h-hate me," Ron whispered as he hiccuped, still trembling with sobs.

"Because I..." Hermione began, but she stopped short as Ron's wet eyes met hers. She breathed through her mouth, her eyes widening very slightly as he stared at her, waiting for her to tell him what he needed to know, his eyes so fierce and bright and intense...

"You don't... have to..." Ron said slowly as he watched her, totally submerged beneath her as she looked into him, everything he was right there for her to see.

He didn't care anymore what she saw. He had lost the ability to fight it. She could know everything. Every question she could ever ask... he'd answer it now. He had never been so vulnerable... but so in control at the same time. He knew exactly what he was doing, letting her see him, letting her in on his secrets, his faults, every insecurity and fear. It wasn't something hidden beneath his humor and wit, nothing that she had to find and uncover. Not now. Never again.

"I don't have to give you one reason, Ron," Hermione whispered. "There are millions."

Speechless didn't quite describe how Ron felt in that moment. He wanted to shout and scream so the whole world knew how much it meant to hear her say what she had. He felt as if he had been knocked off balance, dizzy and off track now that he had been hit with everything. And in one simple instant, watching her, feeling her hand tighten, trembling, in his own, he could almost see it. What he had done, the mistakes he had made, dissolved in thin air. It wasn't quite forgiveness that he afforded himself, but it was as close as he had ever come... and it was immediate.

He knew what she wanted. He knew that it was okay for him to show her that he wanted it too. She needed him now, and he wanted to absorb it thoroughly, now knowing that he would never again even start to build up the wall that he had been unknowingly constructing against her. Had it been out of fear of rejection, loss imminent if she knew how highly he held her, how much he worshiped her... or had it simply been some way of defining himself, of committing to really being the coward that he always assumed he was? So much had changed in this little room. His life weighed less inside the cage of his awkward body. He could feel his blood through his veins, the heat in his neck and ears, and it didn't even bother him.

"You should rest," Ron whispered, hardly sure if his words had really passed through his lips.

"Only if you stay with me," Hermione said bravely, and Ron nodded absently as he leaned forward, squeezing his long thin body onto the mattress next to her. Once again he found himself separated from her by a sheet, lying on top of it while she rested underneath it. But he felt her tugging at something and he looked down at her hands.

Without awareness, Ron rolled to the absolute edge of the bed, helping Hermione with the sheet and rolling back underneath it. As she lowered the sheet and blanket over their bodies and turned onto her side to face him, he froze, overly aware of this one physical barrier broken down to join all of the other internal ones that he had smashed tonight. And it was different - so much different in this little bed in this peaceful room - than it had been on top of the Astronomy Tower last year, sharing his enlarged jumper to keep from freezing to death.

With a thick swallow, Ron's arms circled Hermione and hers circled him. Their foreheads met on the pillow, their eyes locked. Sleep was coming, and other than the absolutely glorious feeling of his nervous, racing heart, he could think of no reason not to give in.

Close. Safe. Complete.

When they woke, it was to the sound of Fleur's sad voice in the hallway outside. They looked at each other, awake at the same instant as if their subconscious minds had been linked now, a bond that could not break or stretch.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, and Ron nodded.

They had a responsibility. They were not in the impenetrable bubble that they had slept inside of any longer. The world around them was edging into the room, forcing them to face it. And they would.

Now. Together.