I breathed in deeply, the scent of the sea flooding my lungs, the sound of the crashing waves filling my ears, the texture of the sand gritty beneath me. I gazed out across the blue expanse of water, the moon glinting on the dark surface. My mind was whirling with thoughts, too muddled to make out just one, all demanding my attention. I sighed and laid my head in my hands, wishing it would just stop, this nightmare that was occurring, that I couldn't seem to fix, no matter how hard I tried. At school, I'd always had the answers. There was nothing that couldn't be solved with a trip to the library. But despite scouring the books I'd taken from Dumbledore's office, I was no closer to having a solution than I had been before. The idea that knowledge might not be able to save the day scared me beyond belief. After all, what else was I good for besides learning information? I wasn't brave like Harry or experienced with the wizarding world like Ron. Without a book to tell me how, what could I possibly do to help them defeat Voldemort?
People were dying, the enemy was getting stronger, time was running out and I didn't have a clue of how to prevent it. We had buried Dobby at Shell Cottage just this evening. Someone who we should have been able to protect. I had always been the school know-it-all, so why was it that now I was reduced to a helpless scared little girl when people actually needed me to be the one with all the answers?
I felt tears rolling down my face, warm compared to the cool breeze coming off the ocean. I shuddered, both with cold and sobs.
"Hey, Hermione, you out here?"
I heard Ron calling from the cottage. Please, just let him go away, I thought. I couldn't stand a fight with him now.
"Mione?"
I heard his soft footsteps on the grass as he made his way to the beach, evidently having seen me perched on the large rock protruding from the shore. Rubbing a hand access my face, I hurriedly tried to wipe away my tears and get myself under control.
Ron clambered up beside me, interlocking his large hands in front of his knees to keep his gangly legs from slipping off the rock.
"Hey," he said softly, obviously noticing that I had been crying, despite my best efforts to cover it up.
"Hey," I replied, in a bit of a whisper, my throat still too choked to speak any louder.
Then, to my surprise, Ron cautiously put his arm around me, unsure if I minded. I leaned my head against his shoulder, grateful for the human contact and the warmth that came with it.
"It's gonna be okay, you know," he said in a low, calming voice, rubbing concentric circles on my arm. "We'll find a way, we'll succeed. I know it."
"But how?" I said, barely managing to get the words out as more tears started to fall. My throat felt raw.
"I don't know yet, but we'll find a way, we'll find a way," he repeated over and over, murmuring the reassurance into my hair.
"We've been in impossible situations before and we've always figured it out." he reminded me. This only made me cry harder.
"But I've always been able to find the answer in a book before!" I wailed. "What can I do now? I'm useless without other peoples' cleverness written down, waiting for me to find it! I can't help you and Harry at all! I'm not brave, just scared!"
Ron broke in, his voice suddenly stern. "No you're not, don't say that. Harry and I would be long dead if we hadn't had you and your common sense. Do you really want us to go off and get killed because we somehow wandered off a cliff because you weren't there to save us from our own stupidity? Hell, I left! And you're brave Hermione. You're braver than both of us. It requires a lot more courage to go into battle knowing what you're facing and doing it anyway because it's the right thing than plunging foolishly into danger without a care in hell!"
He was shouting by the end of this, desperate to prove his point. Glancing down at me, he added, whispering now,
"And we're all scared, Mione. Everyone is. We wouldn't be human if we weren't."
We sat there in silence, my tears gradually drying up as I calmed down, soothed by Ron's familiar presence, his well worn knit jumper soft against my face, emitting the comforting smell that forever belonged in my mind to the Weasley family.
"Thanks, Ron," I whispered, curling closer to his side. His grip tightened.
"Always, Hermione."