hi all. thanks so much for the reviews. and thanks for all the concern over my firend

this chapter is pretty short, and its formating wierd on the site for some reason. oh well, i just want to get it posted.

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My eyes fluttered open slowly and I attempted to look around, an action hindered by the

surrounding darkness. When my eyes adjusted I realized that I was in the hospital wing, tucked

safely into a bed. I lifted my wrist to check the time and found that not only had my watch

been removed , but I was wearing my pajamas. I rolled over slowly, fully prepared to go back

to sleep, when I bumped into something soft and warm.

I pulled back immediately, afraid and angry that some horror had chosen today of all days to

invade my slumber, not to mention ready to pummel it thoroughly for not getting in line

behind my other problems. But what I found was not some villain sent to hurt me, but a mess of

red hair.

My heart skipped a beat. Why was he here? But I knew why he was here. It was the same reason I

had passed out and landed myself in this bed in the first place. And it scared me. It was

absolutely terrifying to think that the one person I had finally given up on was the one

person who was always there for me. Even now, in the middle of the night.

Ron stirred and began to lift his head.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I said quietly. It seemed as though it took him a second to

realize where he was. When his eyes focused, and he looked at Hermione, he blushed slightly.

"Hi," he whispered, looking done at the sheets.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A while I guess." He kept looking at the sheets. We sat in silence for a few

moments. There were no questions, because deep down we both knew all the answers.

"I'm sorry," I said, picking nervously at my sleeve.

"You're sorry?" Ron said. It was louder than we had been speaking and it startled me. I looked

up at him. He seemed surprised. "You haven't done anything," he persisted.

"Yes I have," I squeaked. "I've ruined everything," I said, tears forming in my eyes. The pent

up guilt of the last two months was catching up with me. I looked up at the ceiling, blinking

back my tears. "This whole thing is my fault."

"Hermione," he said quietly. "None of this is your fault." I felt his warm fingers grasp my

chin gently as he turned my face to his. "This is my fault." He paused, as if gathering the

strength for some unbearable task. "I was wrong to fight with Harry. I have no right to think

that you..." he looked down. "Let's just say, I missed my chance."

"Ron.." I started, but he held up a hand to stop me. He took several deep breaths and stood

up, focusing his eyes on one of the windows.

"I just..."

It was driving me insane, he wouldn't look at me.

"I just wanted to make sure he knew how lucky he was."

Look at me, I willed him silently.

"I think he does. I hope he does."

Look at me damn it!

"Just, make sure you're happy."

Then he left. Before I could say a single word, before I could tell him how much I loved him,

that he hadn't missed his chance, he all but ran from the hospital wing, his grey figure fading into black. He had run from me because he thought we had no chance, because he respected Harry, because he wanted me to be happy.

I suddenly loved him even more.

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