I was bored, Ron Weasley thought to himself as Hermione lay dying in his arms.

That's how all this got started. I told Hermione I was bored, and she said she'd been just about to go visit Hagrid, and would Harry and I like to come?

Numb with fear, Ron could scarcely reconcile his easy memory of this morning with the horror of now. This morning seemed impossibly safe and warm and too far away from this moment to be real.

……….

He had been warm then. Warm and cozy in the Gryffindor Common Room, having just executed another stunning victory at Wizard's Chess. Harry had been a trifle less thrilled by the outcome of the game, and was sitting back in his customary armchair, brooding. His third defeat in a row had him declining another game, and Ron looked about for something else to do. He was a bit hungry, but since they'd just come back from breakfast an hour ago, he figured he'd have little luck in convincing his friends to go down with him for a snack.

It was a Saturday morning, and the common room was uncommonly quiet, as many of the students were still away for the holidays. Since it was their last year at Hogwarts together, Harry, Hermione and Ron had decided to stay and make the most of it. Unfortunately, "the most of it" seemed to be over and done with. Christmas and New Year's had come and gone, Voldemort was history, and all that remained was to finish up this year. Ron and Harry tended to look at it as if their adventures were over, and were rather depressed about the whole thing.

To Hermione, of course, this was the absolute most crucial period of their school careers. Their N.E.W.T. examinations were fast approaching, and Hermione viewed them as the pinnacle of everything they'd worked for all this time. She mercilessly drove Ron and Harry to study harder and longer than they ever had before. After Ron melodramatically pleaded with her to please, for the love of all that was good and right in the world, please give them a break from the nagging, she'd left them alone about it over the break. She had, however, seen their slacking off as no reason to fall behind herself. Even now she was curled up on the couch with a book.

Since she was engrossed in what she was reading and not paying attention to him, Ron allowed himself to watch her for a moment. When she absently reached up to curl a stray lock of hair around her ear, his stomach rolled over in its by-now familiar flip. Ron had to catch his breath. It absolutely amazed him that in the three years since he'd realized how he felt about her, he still reacted that way just from looking at her. He wondered – not for the first time, or for the last, he was sure – what it would feel like if she actually knew. If she felt the same way. Based upon his reaction to such a minor stimulus as watching her tuck some hair behind her ear, he figured if – in some bizarre, alternate universe – they ever kissed, he might very well twist inside out all together.

So it's probably for the best that she doesn't know how I feel, he reassured himself. I can barely function around her as it is…much less without trying to do it turned inside out.

He hadn't realized he was still watching her until he heard a small, pointed cough from the armchair across from him. Ron glanced over, startled, and then went red when he remembered that Harry was still there. Oi, what was wrong with him, getting lost in watching Hermione when Harry was sitting right there watching him?

Ron straightened, his head snapping around to look somewhere else – anywhere else! His gaze landed on the clock above the mantle, and he stared at it with single-minded intensity, as if at any moment it might do something amazing, and by blinking he'd risk missing it. At just that moment, the clock struck twelve, its tones sounding vaguely apologetic, as if sorry for being less than worthy of such focused attention.

Harry arched an eyebrow, grinning wickedly. He and Ron had never talked about it, but he was perfectly aware of how his friend felt about Hermione, and he did so enjoy tormenting him about it. He considered it his responsibility as a friend to do so, until such a time as Ron wised up and just told her, already. Also, it was a fitting revenge for the beating he'd taken on the chessboard.

The abrupt sound had caught Hermione's attention too, however, and she looked up from her book to glance at him curiously. Harry immediately choked on his cough, and it was several moments before he'd regained his composure. When he was back under control, he innocently returned Hermione's gaze. She rolled her eyes, and he pretended not to notice. "So what're you reading, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Sensing that he was safe for the moment, Ron immediately abandoned his scrutiny of the clock and joined the conversation. "Something for school, no doubt."

"As a matter of fact," Hermione said primly, not looking up from the text, "it's a book about one of the animals Hagrid's going to introduce once school starts up again. I asked him what he'd be teaching us, and he lent me this book so I could get a head start."

Hagrid, of course, had been a personal friend of the trio since their first year, and this was the fifth year that he'd been Professor of the "Care of Magical Creatures" course at Hogwarts.

Knowing Hagrid's predilection for picking the most dangerous creatures imaginable, Harry cringed in anticipation. "And what's this one do, turn you to stone with a glance?"

"That's Medusa," Hermione said automatically. "Greek mythology, Harry. Really, you should know better."

"Oh, I've got it," Ron chimed in. "It's got a corrosive acid for vomit, and the only way to keep it from tossing on you is to stand on one leg and cross your eyes."

Hermione fixed him with a steely glare. "I can only assume that you're making fun of the way you have to approach a Hippogriff. And honestly, Ron, I should think that you'd be a little more open-minded after the way Buckbeak helped us."

By this point, she had really hit her stride, and was making no attempt to pretend she was still reading. "He really came through when we needed him…and who knows? There may come a time when what we've learned about the Lotus Lepus saves our lives, too!"

Ron and Harry nearly fell out of their chairs laughing. "The whoosits whatsis?" Ron asked, holding his sides.

"The Lotus Lepus," Hermione repeated crossly. "And if either of you ever bothered to research anything, you'd know that it's a form of hare, indigenous to the northern coast of Africa. Its name is based in part on the story of the Lotus Eaters - "

"A hare?" Ron interrupted. "What, like a rabbit?" He exchanged a mirthful look with Harry. "Has Hagrid run completely out of dangerous animals?"

"Hoo-rah," Harry said, in a tone that sounded quite a bit like 'It's about time'.

"It's more dangerous than you might think," Hermione said, flipping pages in her book until she reached the one she was searching for. She held the open book out to them as evidence. "Its bite releases a slow acting - "

Harry waved her off. "Hermione, I'm sorry. But after nearly seven years of school, fighting and defeating Voldemort, and with the N.E.W.T.s coming up, I just can't take any more. I don't want to learn anything about the Lotsa Lupsus rabbit."

"Lotus Lepus," Hermione enunciated, correcting him absently. She was more concerned about his lack of interest. "How can you not want to learn about it? It's a fascinating creature, really. And what else are you doing, anyway?" she wanted to know.

Harry didn't have an answer. "She's right about that," Ron agreed. "I'm bored out of my bloody skull."

Ron paused expectantly, as if waiting for something. When no one said anything, he looked at Hermione in surprise. "Aren't you going to tell me not to curse?"

Hermione had stood, and was now stuffing the book into her school bag. Without turning around, she said, "I've been telling you not to curse for seven years, Ron. If you haven't stopped by now, you're never going to, and it would be pointless for me to persist."

Ron looked dumbfounded, as if his entire world had just been turned upside down. "So you're just going to give up?"

Now Hermione faced him, her brows furrowed as she tried to understand him. "Do you want me to nag you?"

"Well…no," Ron said. The truth was, he did always accuse her of nagging. But after seven years, it was more of a habit, really. He'd curse, she'd tell him not to, and then he'd poke her about nagging him. It was the same with the studying issue. Each provided a platform from which they usually launched into some sort of argument, but their disagreements lacked the vitriol they'd once had. It was hard to be angry with a girl when all you could really think about was how much you wanted to kiss her. He'd long ago realized that his tendency to provoke her into a row was a stand-in for what he really wanted. If he couldn't tell her how he truly felt – and he really couldn't…Merlin knew he'd tried to muster up the courage often enough – arguing would have to be an acceptable substitute. He knew it was childish, but at least when they were having it out he knew he had her attention; she was focused on him. Her flat refusal to rise to his baiting now was therefore a bit of a shock, and felt a little like she was abandoning him. Not liking that feeling -not at all - he changed the subject. "Where are you going, anyway?"

Hermione brushed stray bangs out of her eyes. "Well, since neither of you are going to read it, I thought I'd visit Hagrid and return his book. Would you like to come?"

"Yes," Harry answered immediately. Right now, anything would have sounded better than getting trounced at another game of chess.

Ron was all for the idea, too (he ignored the little voice inside his head that insisted he only wanted to go because Hermione was going), and after dressing in their warmest robes, cloaks, hats and scarves, the three of them headed out of the castle.

They'd gotten a good snow over the holidays, and the weather had been consistently cold enough so that none of the white stuff had melted. As the trio trudged across the icy slope toward Hagrid's hut, they attempted to match the placement of their feet into the deep depressions left by their last trek, on Christmas day. They'd gone that afternoon to visit and exchange presents with Hagrid, and the path of their journey to and from his hut was still clearly visible. Stepping into the same prints was marginally easier than breaking through the upper crust of snow, which was several days old, and hardened by freezing wind.

A few times Hermione had difficulty because of her shorter legs, and Ron would reach out a hand to steady her. Each time he took her arm, or placed his hand at the small of her back to balance her, she'd turn her head and smile a thank you at him, resulting in another flip from his stomach.

At the end of the brisk, five-minute walk, they arrived at Hagrid's door. As Harry stepped forward, Ron couldn't help but notice Hermione in his peripheral vision. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and her hair was wild where it sprang out from beneath her cap. She was breathing a bit hard from fighting her way through the snow, and her eyes were twinkling. Though the trip hadn't been as physically demanding for him, Ron found himself breathing a little harder than usual, too. He shook his head, and looked away.

Harry knocked, and they heard Fang bark in response from within. A moment later the heavy oak swung inward and Hagrid loomed in the doorway. As usual, he had to peer down at them. "Oh, hello there, Harry. Ron; Hermione. Come in out of the cold."

He stood back to let them pass, and then shut the door behind them as they all started removing scarves and gloves. "I was just headin' out, actually, but it can wait a few. What can I do for ya'?"

Hermione started to reach for her school bag. "I've finished the book…thank you for letting me borrow it. And while I was down here, I was wondering if I could see the Lotus Lepus, but since you're going out…"

Hagrid grunted. "Funny you should mention it," he said, sounding a bit aggravated. "The little bugger escaped from his pen sometime last night, and 'e's what I was going out to find."

"Oh," Hermione replied, her eyes wide. "The poor thing, out all night in this weather!"

Ron and Harry shared another look. How well they knew her! Tales of any creature in distress – real or perceived - were bound to bring out her maternal side. Predictable as the sunrise, Hermione was the champion of innumerable lost causes (including fourth year's doomed venture, S.P.E.W.: the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare), and convincing her that something didn't need saving was near impossible.

"There now, Hermione," Hagrid tried anyway. "Don't fret. The Lotus Lepus has an abundance of two things: fur and teeth. 'E'll be all right. But I need to find him before classes start up again."

"We could help you, Hagrid," Harry volunteered. When Ron looked at him in surprise, Harry defended himself. "What? Hermione's the only one who can care about a fluffy bunny rabbit out all alone in the forest in the middle of winter?"

"Besides," he finally said, when Ron continued to look disbelieving, "what else have we got to do?"

"Is losing another game of chess really so horrible that you'd rather tramp around in the snow all day in the woods, looking for a rabbit?" Ron wanted to know.

"It is, if it's for the fourth time today," Harry said.

Hagrid appeared indecisive. "I appreciate you volunteerin', and all, but I don't know if you should really come in contact with the Lotus Lepus before getting' ta' learn about it in class."

"Don't worry, Hagrid," Harry reassured him. "Hermione knows all about it. We'll just make sure to stick together and be careful."

"Well," Hagrid said, glancing out the window. The position of the sun indicated that it was already after mid-day, and if he wanted to find the Lotus Lepus before nightfall, he should get started. "All right," he finally said. "I appreciate yer' help. We'll cover more ground if we split up. Me an' Fang'll take the Northern section of the forest. You three can take the South. If yer get inta' any trouble, just come back here straight away."

Their plan decided upon, Hagrid loaded the students up with food and supplies before taking off. With a few last words of advice – "Now remember, don't get too close, and stay away from its teeth!" – Hagrid and Fang set out for the Northern section of the forest, leaving Harry, Hermione and Ron to head for the Southern half.

They hadn't been walking for very long, when something suddenly occurred to Ron. "Hey, how are we supposed to find this one particular rabbit, in a forest full of rabbits, anyway?"

Hermione sighed. "I've only been walking around with my wand in front of me for a quarter of an hour, Ron," she said. "Didn't you wonder if I might be doing a seek charm?"

"Oh," Ron said, feeling stupid.

"Plus, it should be the only purple hare you see," she added.

Harry chuckled, and Hermione shook her head, resigned. "What are you two going to do without me?"

Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hermione paused, looking at him. "Well…I mean, this is our last year. We'll graduate from Hogwarts in six months or so, and then you and Harry will be going on to Auror training, right?"

Harry nodded, and Hermione went on. "And well, I don't know yet what I'll be doing, exactly, but it probably won't be Auror training, so…"

She trailed off, and Ron felt a little ill.

Harry caught his stricken look. Not without sympathy, he said, "Come on, Ron. We all knew it would happen."

And he had known, intellectually, that some day the trio would have to split up to pursue their adult careers, but it had always seemed so far away. It was always something that was going to happen "some day", in a comfortably fuzzy future. Now, it was this year. It was in six months. Life as he had known it for the past seven years would end, and they'd lose Hermione.

He knew they'd keep in touch, of course. Communication was only an owl or an apparation away, but it wouldn't be the same. They wouldn't wake up and go to breakfast with her every day. When they played Quidditch, she wouldn't be down in the stands cheering them on, bundled up in her warm, red and gold colored scarf. She wouldn't be in classes with them, taking notes that she would reluctantly let them read later, pretending that she was annoyed, but really sort of obviously enjoying taking care of them. She wouldn't sit with them in the evenings before bed, curled up on the sofa with a book, glancing up occasionally as if to keep an eye on them, watching them as they played chess. She wouldn't be there at night, in the next dormitory, as Ron lay awake in his bed thinking about her.

Abruptly aware that he hadn't answered Harry, Ron snapped out of his self-pitying daze. "I know," he said, "I just…forgot that it would be so soon."

His tone was so…forlorn…that it drew Hermione's attention, and she glanced at him. He was walking with them, hands in his pockets, but he wasn't really paying attention to anything around him. Obviously lost in unhappy thought, his head was down and his shoulders were slumped. She could empathize, as she wasn't really looking as forward to graduation as she thought she'd be, either. Like Ron, she'd known the day would come when her boys would leave her, but she found that she couldn't welcome it.

Hoping to brighten his spirits, Hermione laid a hand on Ron's forearm. "Hey," she said, "You know the three of us will always be friends, right?" When he raised his head to look at her, she went on. "You and Harry are too important to me to let slip away." She included Harry in the conversation, feeling a little sappy, but needing to say it. "No one could ever replace you two."

Harry smiled at her sentimental words, and then took her by surprise with a hug. "You know we feel the same way, 'Mione," he said, adopting the pet name Ron had created for her years ago.

Hermione squeezed back, lightly, and looked over at Ron. His troubled blue eyes had cleared a little, and when she smiled at him, he returned it. The smile was genuine, but there was more going on behind his expression than he let on.

Six months, he realized. That's all the much longer he had, if he was ever going to tell her how he felt. After that, it would be too late. He didn't quite dare to hope that she might feel the same way, but the approaching deadline told him something he hadn't known before: he had to tell her. If he let the six months come and go without saying anything, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. He'd always wonder what might have been. And knowing that she'd definitely walk out of his life in six months if he didn't say anything, well…that made it that much easier to tell her.

Theoretically, anyway.

Ron smiled back at her, and then fell in step again when she and Harry resumed their search for Hagrid's hare. He had much to think about.

……….

Ron wasn't sure how much later it was, when Hermione's wand started to glow. He knew that they'd stopped to eat twice, but admitted to himself that the second time was pretty much just for him.

Hermione and he had developed another little ritual over the past couple years, where at mealtimes she would observe the massive amounts of food he ate and ask him where he put it all, or if he just cast a spell that made the food magically disappear once it reached his stomach, so he could keep eating for the pleasure of it. He would reply that he was a growing boy and he needed his nutrition. In the absence of her cursing rebuke earlier, the mealtime ritual had him feeling better again.

In any case, the sun was definitely lower in the sky than it had been when they started out, so Ron knew they'd been walking for a couple hours. Strangely, though, he hadn't gotten tired or cold enough to propose going back. He was still enjoying himself. Maybe part of it was knowing that times like this – with just the three of them – were limited. It was just him and his two best friends, laughing and talking and hanging out together. Before too long they wouldn't be able to do this any more, so he was reluctant to call an end to the day.

So they were all three a little startled when Hermione's wand started to glow lavender. They'd been having such a good time that the main purpose for their adventure had sort of slid to the back of their minds.

Now, Hermione excitedly looked around the clearing they'd walked into, her eyes darting to the shadows under all of the shrubs and low foliage. "Look! It must be here somewhere!"

Harry crouched, quickly opening the collapsible cage that Hagrid had given them for this very purpose.

Ron pulled out his own wand, prepared to levitate the first purple rabbit he saw into the cage.

"Now remember," Hermione said in her familiar, 'I know what I'm talking about, so listen to me' voice. "The Lotus Lepus is aggressive, and will try to bite you. So stay as far away as possible."

"What happens if you get bitten?" Ron wanted to know, worried enough to ask now, remembering that he couldn't have cared less earlier, when Hermione had been volunteering the information.

She stepped forward, peering into the underbrush as she started to answer. "Well, it's kind of like a curse -"

"There it is!" Harry shouted, spotting a flash of purple in the shade of an old elm tree. Ignoring Hermione's warning, he leapt forward to give chase. The Lotus Lepus, like any hare, had been sitting under the tree as still as a statue; only its ears had twitched a little, swiveling toward the sound of the three humans as they entered the clearing. Once Harry made a move toward it, the Lotus Lepus bolted, zig zagging all across the clearing in an effort to avoid being caught.

Like a couple of hounds, loving the excuse to run full out, Harry and Ron gave chase with a whoop. As Hermione watched them race pell mell away from her, she planted her hands on her hips and sighed. "They really don't listen to a word I say, do they?" she said to herself.

Unfortunately, the situation was a little more serious than they were taking it, and if anyone was going to act like an adult here, it would have to be her. She was, after all, the only one who knew what sort of creature they were up against, and worry for the boys quickly propelled her after them.

By the time she reached the spot where they'd disappeared into the woods, quarry and pursuers had looped around and were headed back into the clearing. Several meters in front of Harry, the Lotus Lepus was looking pretty lively as it bounded around rocks, and over clumps of grass as it headed right toward her. At the last moment, just as Hermione was about to use her wand to levitate the hare, it spotted her and doubled back on its own track, headed right for Harry.

"Harry, look out!" Hermione shouted, remembering the aggressive tendencies of the Lotus Lepus when cornered.

Sure enough, after the hare had doubled back it realized it was caught between two pursuers, and immediately switched from flight to fight. Utilizing the strong muscles in its hindquarters, the Lotus Lepus executed an amazing leap…right at Harry's face.

The young wizard was startled, to say the least. If Hermione hadn't known just how dangerous the magical creature was, she might've been tempted to laugh at the expression on Harry's face. As it was, she did know, and the knowledge spurred her to run faster, calling out his name, warning him not to let it bite him.

Harry – for his part – wasn't trying to let it bite him, but the bloody thing had gotten its claws stuck in his collar, and it was scabbling at his neck, attempting to get away. Harry started to raise his hands to pull it off him, but then Hermione was there, telling him to put them down or it would bite him. Trusting her, Harry dropped his hands.

Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't use her wand on the animal without hitting Harry, too. But there was no time to find an alternate solution; it could bite Harry at any time. As Ron came skidding up, Hermione grabbed the skin and fur at the base of the hare's skull and scruffed it, much like mother cats and dogs do to their offspring when carrying them about. There was plenty of skin there, and Hermione knew she wasn't hurting the creature, but it shrieked like a banshee once she had a hold on it. Quickly, before it could do any damage to Harry, Hermione pulled it sharply away from him and turned toward the cage.

As she approached it, Harry and Ron dropped to either side of the cage, holding it steady and the door open. The Lotus Lepus squirmed and writhed in her hand like a psychotic worm on a hook.

Falling to her knees before the cage, Hermione shoved the hare inside, having to use her other hand to shove at its rear end when it planted its feet and tried to resist. It wasn't until she had taken her hands away to shut the door to the cage that she felt it…a sharp pain on the back of her left hand. Still in "fight" mode, the hare had immediately turned around once in the cage, and bitten what it perceived to be its attacker.

Numbly, Hermione sat back on her heels, holding her left arm out before her and staring at the bite wound on her hand. It didn't look serious; two red puncture wounds showed vividly against her pale skin, but there was only a small spot of blood from each tiny hole.

Of course there was hardly any blood, she realized slowly through the haze of disbelief. The bite of the Lotus Lepus was designed not to bleed…instead, its poison was carried around in the bloodstream until it reached the brain. Right now it was rushing through her veins, killing her a little with each heartbeat.

Feeling as if she weren't really here, and this hadn't really just happened, Hermione slowly stood. Harry and Ron had managed to get the cage door shut, and were excitedly talking about the chase, which had only lasted thirty seconds or so. Nothing they said made sense to her…she couldn't hear anything, suddenly, except the sound of her own pulse. She was standing here dying, Harry and Ron didn't know, and she couldn't believe it.

Finally, she heard her name. Harry was saying something about how she'd grabbed the Lotus Lepus off of him. He couldn't believe how decisively she'd acted to save him. He was thanking her. Now he was looking at her oddly, because she must look strange standing there holding her arm with her other hand, saying nothing, eyes glazed.

Harry and Ron exchanged a worried glance, and they both approached Hermione. Something was wrong, here. "Hermione?" Harry asked, noting her ashen pallor, and the look of detachment on her face. "Hermione, what is it?"

She blinked, slowly, and finally seemed to see him. She looked down at her arm again, and Harry and Ron followed her gaze. They both saw the bite wound on her left hand. Belatedly, apprehension gripped them as all traces of levity dropped away immediately. Ron grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "What does it mean?" he asked her urgently. "What happens when it bites you?"

"What happens?" Hermione repeated dumbly. She looked down at the bite on her hand again, which she still held away from her body as if that would save her. She blinked again. "It's a poison," she said finally. "The bite of the Lotus Lepus is fatal."

.