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            Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

In the Hospital Wing

Ron woke up feeling sore all over. It took him a minute to recognize his surroundings. He was in the hospital wing. The events of the previous night started coming back to him. They had gone to the Department of Mysteries to rescue Sirius and everything had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

            He glanced at the bed nearest to his and gasped. Hermione was there, sleeping peacefully. He couldn't remember what had happened to her.

            "Mr. Weasley! You're awake at last!" Madam Pomfrey shouted as she came bustling into the room. "It's time for your medicine. Roll up your sleeves." Ron did as he was told and was shocked to see the large purple welts all over his arms. So that was why he was so sore. Yes, he remembered now. The brain…something had happened with a brain.

            "What's wrong with Hermione?" Ron asked hurriedly. "Is she going to be okay?"

            "Yes, yes." Madam Pomfrey muttered as she applied some sort of burning liquid to his arms.

            "What about everyone else? Harry…and Ginny and Neville? And The Order?" Ron questioned.

            "All of you peers are doing well," she said and her expression seemed to soften. "The Order…" she hesitated. "You shouldn't be talking about such things here, Mr. Weasley," but she said this with none of her usual conviction.

            "Okay, fine, but how are they?" He practically yelled.

            "Sirius Black…well…he didn't make it, Mr. Weasley." Madam Pomfrey gave him a sympathetic smile before rushing out of the room, perhaps to care for another patient, or maybe just to give him time by himself.

            Ron drew his knees up to chest and gripped his hair tightly with his hands. Where the hell was Harry and what was he doing? Was he okay? Well, of course he wasn't okay. Hermione had been right. It had all been a trap. Ron had been fooled by Harry's dream and now Harry's Godfather was dead. Ron let out a frustrated groan and kicked a tray of delicate looking instruments off of a cart near his bed. He expected Madam Pomfrey to come in and holler at him at the sound of the noise, but she didn't.

            "Ron-what?" Ron turned to look at the bed next to him. The noise he had made had woken Hermione. She was sitting up in bed, clutching her chest and wincing in pain.

            "Sorry, Hermione," he said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

            Hermione glanced at all of the instruments on the floor and then her expression changed rapidly from a calm look to one of panic. "Harry! The others! What happened?"

            "Harry's fine. They're all fine…except," Ron looked down at his hands. He didn't think he could say it. It was Harry's Godfather, his only family, saying it would only make it true.

            "What, Ron?" Hermione asked softly.

            "Sirius," Ron said gruffly, "he didn't…um…he," Ron broke off hoping she had gotten the message.

            Hermione stared horrified at him. "Not Sirius, Ron, not him…" But even as she said it she knew it was true. "Oh no…poor Harry," she muttered.

            "I know. I wonder how he's doing," Ron said.

            "Why does it have to be Harry?" Hermione shouted in a sudden fit of rage. "Why does everything have to happen to him? Why does he have to lose everyone?" She broke down completely at that point. Ron watched silently as she shed tears for their best friend and his loss.

            Ron tried to stand up and found that his legs worked quite fun, even if he was still a bit achy. He walked over to Hermione's bed and sat down next to her. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it. He just knew he couldn't stand to see her cry like that.

            As soon as he sat down, Hermione threw her arms around him and collapsed into his chest. After a few minutes, she sat up and looked at him, tears still making their way down her cheeks.

            "Harry's going to be okay, isn't he Ron? He'll still be Harry, right?" She asked, almost pleading with him.

             Ron struggled to answer the same question he was pondering himself. "Of course he will," he said. "He still has us. He'll always have us."

            Hermione smiled for the first time since she had awoken. "You're right." She hugged him again and this time Ron hugged her back, marveling at how right this closeness felt.

            "Mr. Weasley!" Someone barked.

            Ron wheeled around. It was Madam Pomfrey. He could feel his face growing hot.

            "Kindly stay in your own bed," she said sternly, but Ron thought he saw a flicker of a smile on her face as she went to get a potion for Hermione.

            Ron stood up and squeezed Hermione's hand. He looked behind him to make sure Madam Pomfrey was still occupied and then leaned down and kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Everything's going to be fine. Harry's going to be fine. We're going to be fine."

            Hermione smiled. "I suppose you're right."

            Ron went back to his bed and listened to Madam Pomfrey muttering under her breath about students and their disregard for Hospital Wing policy. He didn't know what the future held, or how many tears would be shed before it was all over, but as long as the three of them had each other, everything would turn out okay.

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