Hours had gone by, and the battle was over.

Ron had passed the time pacing, helping with the defenses, trading insults with Malfoy…trying to do anything but think of Hermione out in the castle alone, unprotected.

And he was failing miserably. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Images crowded his thoughts. Images of Hermione hurt, Hermione in danger, Hermione dead. With each image he felt ill. He felt impotent. He felt lost. It was killing him, not being able to help her. Every moment longer, it was killing him.

And on top of the agony of not knowing if she was alive or not was his self recrimination having never told her how he felt. Even now, she could be lying somewhere dead, and he had never been brave enough to tell her he loved her. It had never been the right time; he had always been too unsure of her feelings. Now, he might never have the chance.

And so he had spent the past few hours with his stomach twisted in knots, feeling cold and afraid.

But now the sounds of battle had ceased on the other side of the Dining Hall's doors. Professor McGonagall was somehow in contact with Dumbledore, and had kept them appraised of the progress. Now, she declared, it was all over. The Dementors were dead, and the Death Eaters defeated. Several of the students spared Draco Malfoy a glance, but his expression was impassive, revealing nothing. It appeared that he had chosen his side.

As big as that was, Ron couldn't concentrate on it. When the Professors went to release the doors, Ron was first in line. The moment the doors were cracked open, he was shouldering his way through, looking around wildly.

The damage was extensive. Black, greasy soot from the fires marked the cinder blocks embedded in the massive walls of the castle. Rugs that had lain on the floors of the corridors of Hogwarts for centuries were nothing more now than ashes. Several paintings had been completely destroyed, but Ron was relieved to see that a number remained relatively unscathed. In them, quite a few displaced subjects were cautiously peering out, unsure if it was safe to come out or not.

Huge sections of the ceiling had given in, and the rubble was piled up in the entrance way, blocking the bottom-most staircase, which – like its fellows – was now stationary.

Ron wanted to storm the rubble, climbing up and over it, to find Hermione. But there was a bit of a difficulty there…he had no idea where she would be. He turned to Professor McGonagall, who had already thought ahead to this moment. She had pulled her wand from its sleeve in her robes, and held it lightly in her right hand. "Vox Voluminus," she chanted, and then held the tip of her wand up to her mouth.

"Attention, Hogwarts students. This is Professor McGonagall. Headmaster Dumbledore and the other professors have defeated Lord Voldemort's forces, and it is now safe to come out."

Ron was startled when he heard the Professor's voice coming from the Public Announcement boxes throughout the school. They were used so seldomly, he had completely forgotten they existed. Thinking back on it, he thought that the last time he'd heard an announcement from them had been back in year two, when Ginny had been kidnapped by Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort's sixteen year old self.

He shook off the memory as Professor McGonagall finished. "Any students in hiding, please make your way down to the Dining Hall. Any injured students are to proceed directly to the Infirmary, where Madame Pomfrey will attend to you immediately."

At the conclusion of her announcement, everyone's attention – student and Professor alike - went to the top of the stairs. Ron watched just as raptly. He couldn't have torn his gaze away if he'd wanted to. He stared hard at the landing, as if everything hinged upon him not breaking his gaze, willing Hermione to appear there with every fiber of his being.

Please just let her be safe, he thought, over and over. Please just let her be safe. Please…

The minutes stretched out, and now some of the students were looking at each other worriedly and speaking in hushed tones. Ron could still hear them, despite their lowered voices.

"Why isn't anyone coming?"

"Could they all be dead?"

"Are we the only ones who made it?"

No, he thought. Hermione's alive. She has to be. Come on…please, 'Mione.

Please.