After, Ron held her in his arms, feeling a fulfillment he'd never known before. As he tried to sort through the miasma of emotions swirling inside him, he came to realize that there was no one word that could describe all of his feelings right now.

He knew he was happy…deliriously so. After three years of standing on the sidelines, afraid to risk his heart, he finally had exactly what he wanted…Hermione. He was still having trouble believing how lucky he was that she wanted him in return.

He also knew he was grateful; the gift of her love for him was so utterly unexpected, and so priceless. She overloaded his senses. The length of her body was warm against his; she was lying on her side, tucked up against his torso with one arm resting on his chest. Their legs were tangled together. He could smell the scent of her hair, and could still taste her on his lips. The way she fit in his embrace was uncanny; it was as if she'd always been meant to be there, and he just hadn't realized how empty his arms were until Hermione filled them.

But more than anything, he felt love…bigger and more complete than he'd ever imagined it could be. It covered them both and wrapped them up in the same, warm blanket of naked emotion. Tenderness washed through him, and he trailed a light caress down from her shoulder blade to the small of her back, wishing it were her skin he was touching, instead of the rough fabric of her robes. Ron smiled a little, into the dark. She'd insisted upon getting dressed after, not wanting to risk Harry returning to find them lying there nude together, in the woods. Knowing that it had taken them three hours or so to get to the clearing where they located the Lotus Lepus, they figured it would take Harry at least three to return to Hogwarts and fly back on his broom. He'd been gone for near that, now, and could return at any time. Though Ron thought it might be worth it just to see the look on Harry's face, he ultimately decided prudence was best, in this case. And so they had fumbled back into their clothing, a little awkward together in the aftermath of the baring of their souls (and bodies, for that matter. Not that Hermione had had anything to feel self conscious about; she had a smashing body, and he was delighted to see that she blushed all over when he told her so).

But then Hermione had dispelled any feelings of shyness when she gently pulled him back down to the ground and stretched out beside him, weaving her arms and legs through his like a vine. They'd been lying there together ever since, sharing the intimacy of the moment in the dying light of the fire, intoxicated with each other. They talked quietly about their feelings, and the future. After awhile they'd lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Ron's mind began to try to work through the waves of emotion. He'd been trying to find a word to sum it all up, and couldn't. He felt happy, and grateful, and loving, and had discovered a capacity for gentleness in himself that he hadn't known he possessed.

He knew this was a huge turning point for them. After today, their relationship was going to be something totally new, a wonderful move forward from the friendship he'd had to be satisfied with for the past three years, and he couldn't wait. He couldn't wait to find out what kind of a boyfriend he'd make. He wanted to be perfect for her. He couldn't wait to be able to kiss Hermione hello and goodbye, and have it be a perfectly natural part of their interaction. This was all what he'd wanted for so long, and he couldn't wait to live the dream.

But he also knew that he was afraid. He'd heard once that to love someone was to offer them up as a hostage to fate, and now he understood. Now that he had her, he was even more afraid of losing her. Now that he had everything he ever wanted, so much more could be taken from him. Even now, seemingly safe and warm in his embrace, something was trying to kill her, and he couldn't stop it.

Subconsciously he tightened his arms around her, as if he could keep the poison in her blood at bay just by holding on to her hard enough.

It was another beat before he realized there'd been no response from Hermione, to the constriction of his arms or to his caress. Not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment, Ron's voice was scarcely more than a whisper. "Hermione," he murmured.

No response.

Now worry crashed down on him, swift and jarring. Fear bit into him with sharp teeth as he gripped her shoulder, pulling her away from him so he could see her face. Hermione's head lolled back; her eyes were closed.

Her eyes were closed!

Giving voice to an inarticulate cry of horror, Ron shook her, hard. "Hermione!" he said loudly, his tone full of urgency. "Hermione, wake up!"

Hermione's eyelids flickered, then opened slightly. She mumbled unintelligibly, raising a limp hand to her face as if to block him out.

Ron grabbed the hand and tore it away from her face. He shook her again. This time her eyes opened nearly half way, and her response was clearer. "Stop," she said.

"No," he replied, his heart pounding furiously. "Wake up. You're falling asleep."

He was sitting, now, and Hermione was resting mostly in his lap. Now she allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder and she turned her face into his neck. "I'm so tired," she said quietly.

Ron's nerves were jumping. Merlin, she'd been only moments from slumber. He stood up, yanking her to her feet, cursing himself all the while for letting his guard down and letting her drift off while he complacently thought about his feelings.

He lurched forward, dragging her across the clearing with him again. Hermione made a small mew of protest, but she was in no condition to stop him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be enough to rouse her, now. Ron was practically carrying her, with minimal effort on Hermione's part.

Ron felt panic reaching up to clutch at him. It wasn't working. He was losing her. He stopped walking and shook her again. "Look at me," he said forcefully. "Hermione, look at me!"

Hermione tried to do as he asked. She felt as if she were wrapped in layers of cotton that muffled his voice and dulled her senses. She could barely stand up, she was so weak, but she managed to open her eyes and fix them on his face. Her arm felt weighed down…too heavy to lift, but she fought through the fog of sleep and raised her hand to his temple, lightly brushing back that defiant, stray lock of hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"No," Ron said, shutting out her apology. "No, 'Mione. Don't do this. Fight it!"

Hermione sagged as she lost the strength to stand on her own, but she fought to keep her eyes on his. "I can't…I can't anymore."

"Yes you can!" Ron cried, shaking her helplessly. It wasn't working, she was slipping away from him, and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't hold on to her.

He fell back to the ground with her, cradling her in his arms. He could feel forces beyond his control converging on them now, ripping her from his grasp. He felt as if Death had been coming for her all along, and he'd been a fool to think he could keep her safe from it. "Please," he begged her, uncaring of the tears streaking his own face. "Please, 'Mione, don't do this to me. Don't leave me. You can't leave me, now."

Desperately, he lowered his head and kissed her. He crushed his lips on hers, not knowing what else to do, just not wanting her to die. He sobbed while kissing her, holding her to him even as she sank deeper into the depths where he couldn't follow.

Now Hermione was crying too. When he started to draw back she clung to him weakly. "Love you," she whispered in his ear. "Ron…I love you."

With that said, the last of Hermione's strength seemed to slip away, her reserves depleted. Her long, dark lashes fluttered once on her cheeks as her eyes closed for the last time.

……….

With a BANG!, Harry and Hagrid apparated. Harry looked about wildly for Ron and Hermione. "Where are they?!" he said frantically, seeing only more snow-covered trees.

"I told you," Hagrid said, urgency replacing the usual amiable rumble of his voice. "There's a fifty-meter radius around the Lotus Lepus; you can't apparate directly into it. Now, is this where you left 'em?"

Harry forced himself to calm down, and looked around. "No," he said, recognizing the section of the path they were on. "They were in the clearing. Come on, it's this way."

Harry led Hagrid along the path quickly, not pausing when the half-giant had to slow down to duck under a low-slung branch. And so he was the first one into the clearing. What he saw there stopped him as effectively as Hermione's Petrificus Totalis spell.

In the center of the clearing, in the glow of the embers of a dying fire, he saw his friends on the ground. There was a wide circle of clear ground around them, unmarked by snow or ice. Ron was cradling Hermione in his arms. She wasn't moving, and Ron was hunched over her, his shoulders shaking.

Harry's heart lurched painfully as he realized they were too late. He hadn't been fast enough.

Still, he stumbled forward, unable to truly believe this could be happening. Behind him, Hagrid had caught up and seen the two students on the ground by the ring of uneven stones that had banked the fire. "Merlin," he breathed, and then hurried forward after Harry.

Ron sensed movement, and looked up. His face was wet with tears, but hope flickered in his eyes when he saw his friend rushing toward him. "Harry!" he said, shaky with relief. "Hurry…she's almost gone. Where's the antidote?"

Harry's knees nearly buckled with relief. 'Almost', Ron had said. So she was still alive! He skidded to a halt, falling to his knees beside his friends. "I don't have it," he said, pulling at Hermione.

"What?!" Ron exploded, frantic. "What do you mean, you don't have it? You left hours ago!"

Even as he shouted, he was helping Harry to pull Hermione up. He had no idea what his friend thought he was going to do with her once they got her up, since they couldn't apparate, but it was clear that he had some sort of plan.

"I didn't make it all the way back," Harry explained, jerking his head toward the Hogwarts Gamekeeper. "I found Hagrid before I got there, and he told me that it's the bloody rabbit. That's why we couldn't apparate out of here."

Ron spared a hasty glance for Hagrid, who was hurrying over to the cage that housed the Lotus Lepus. He picked it up, awakening the hare inside, which was none too pleased. It let out a shriek of surprise and hopped around a few times within the confines of its prison. Hagrid paid it no attention, but directed his orders to Ron and Harry. "I'll get it far enough away fer you ta' apparate back, and then come back on foot. Get her to Madame Pomfrey as quick as yer can!"

Ron swung Hermione into his arms, and watched Hagrid stride from the clearing, the cage swinging beside him.

Harry watched, too. Finally, when Hagrid was far enough away, Harry said, "All right, let's do it."

Ron and Harry closed their eyes and concentrated. A moment later they opened them again, hearing the BANG! of their displacement echo back from the hills that surrounded the school of Hogwarts. They had apparated as close as possible, and were now standing before the tall gates of the castle.

"Quick," Harry said, leading them inside.

Harry thought for an instant to ask Ron if he needed help with Hermione, but a glance revealed that he was having no trouble carrying her. His breath was ragged with worry, however, and he panted as they raced up the stairs to the hospital wing.

For her part, Hermione lay seemingly lifeless in Ron's strong arms. Her eyes remained closed, but Harry was relieved to hear her mumbling incoherently as she was jostled on their hasty journey up the stairs.

Finally, they reached the infirmary and burst inside, startling Madame Pomfrey. She'd been wheeling a cart full of supplies down the center aisle, but when the two breathless boys and one nearly-unconscious girl banged the doors open she was thoroughly distracted. The cart – lacking direction, but not momentum – veered off and crashed into one of the beds, sending scores of towels and pans and tubes clattering to the floor.

"Oh my," Pomfrey said, her hand resting briefly over her suddenly thundering heart. Then the healer in her took over and she was rushing forward to the trio. "What happened?"

"Lotus Lepus," Ron and Harry said in unison. They started to elaborate, each describing what had happened independently, resulting in a jumble of indecipherable words.

"When?" she demanded, already moving away from them, toward the supply room.

"A little over three hours ago, I think," Harry said.

"It's a miracle she's still alive," Madame Pomfrey said, surprised into a pause. "Most people bitten by the Lotus Lepus succumb within two hours. But that just means there's no time to waste. Over there," she pointed toward one of the empty beds. "The antidote has to be mixed, and I've got to gather the ingredients. It'll be just a few moments. Whatever you do, keep her awake!" she commanded sharply, and hurried into the supply room.

Ron quickly moved to the bed that Madame Pomfrey had indicated, laying Hermione upon it gently. Harry followed, taking up a position on the opposite side of the bed. He watched as Ron smoothed Hermione's hair back from her forehead, keeping hold of the hand closest to him. He saw the anxiousness on his friend's face, and the love. Neither really surprised him, but he found himself moved by the obvious display of affection on Ron's part. He'd never seen him be so obvious about it before, and supposed that it was easier with Hermione being barely aware of her surroundings.

A moment later, however, he was forced to revise his assessment of the situation when Hermione stirred and jerked the hand that Ron was holding spasmodically. "Ron," she murmured.

Ron squeezed her hand. "I'm here, love," he answered tenderly.

Harry blinked in surprise at the endearment, but Ron didn't notice. He continued speaking softly to Hermione. "It's going to be all right," he promised her. "Just hold on a little longer for me."

Hermione's response was weak, but neither boy had trouble hearing it in the emptiness of the infirmary. "I love you," she whispered.

"Stay with me," Ron urged her.

Harry was thunderstruck. Had he just heard what he thought he heard? Because it sounded an awful lot like Hermione had just confessed to loving Ron. But the real kicker was that Ron didn't appear to be surprised. Not at all.

Eyes wide behind his glasses, Harry stared at Ron until his friend sensed his gaze and looked up at him. "Ron," Harry said hesitantly, "What…exactly happened, after I left?"

Ron turned a light shade of pink, but his obvious embarrassment wasn't enough to distract him from Hermione; he put off answering long enough to check on her again before returning to Harry's question.

"Well," he said, trying to explain, "we were there for three hours, mate. We did a lot of talking, and…she was afraid that if she didn't say some things, she wouldn't get a chance, later. Like what she said to you," he added.

Harry nodded, swallowing. He hoped Ron knew that Hermione had meant it in a platonic way. From his lack of jealous reaction to it, Harry figured Ron probably did.

Ron went on, stumbling a bit now that he was in emotional territory. "And…well, she said she didn't want to die without ever having told me the truth." He looked up at Harry again, elation breaking through and outweighing the embarrassment. "She said she loves me," Ron said, smiling widely, looking as if he were still a bit surprised by the admission. "Has for years," he continued, "and never told me because she didn't know how I felt."

Harry grinned at this wondrous news. "That sounds familiar," he joked.

Ron nodded, glancing down at Hermione again, checking her status without really being aware that he was doing it. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed delirious…her mumblings were scarcely discernible now, and Harry frowned, searching for Madame Pomfrey over Ron's shoulders. There was no sign of the healer, and he wondered how much longer it would take to collect all of the ingredients.

Ron continued talking. "And then I told her how I felt, and…well." Here he fumbled his words, and Harry got the distinct impression that his friend was omitting something from the story. "And then we got together," Ron finished abruptly.

Harry's eyes narrowed in speculation, taking in the heat rising on Ron's face. He noticed again the way he was holding Hermione's hand, and remembered how tenderly he'd brushed hair back from her forehead. He seemed to be very comfortable, all of the sudden, with touching Hermione, and that's when it hit Harry.

Stunned, but pretty sure he already knew the answer, Harry asked, "Ron…just how 'together' did you and Hermione get?"

Ron immediately blushed and ducked his head, and Harry's mouth dropped open. Blimey!

Still not able to meet Harry's gaze, Ron started stuttering alarmingly. "Well…it just…we just…I mean, she was falling asleep, and I…"

"You mean you shagged Hermione to keep her awake?!" Harry interjected incredulously.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron protested, going several shades brighter in embarrassment and indignation. "Keep it down, will you?"

In a 'if you'd let me finish' sort of tone, Ron continued, "Besides, it wasn't like that. We just…she was barely hanging on, mate. She was slipping, and we both knew it. She started saying all kinds of things, because she was afraid, you know? And it was hard to watch."

Ron looked down at Hermione's face. She was frowning slightly, unaware of her surroundings, fighting the inner battle with whatever strength she had left. Ron's own expression was pained. Clearly he was wishing he could help her, as Harry thought he must have felt back in the clearing. "It's not easy to watch someone you care about die, little by little," Ron said finally. "It was impossible to see her fear and not respond to it. And…well, it just happened. I don't regret it," he said a little defensively, but his expression melted back into concern as he watched Hermione. "I just hope she doesn't."

Harry was still a bit shocked, but there was no time to assimilate it all, because just then Madame Pomfrey returned. She was pushing a new cart that contained several beakers full of multi-coloured liquid. As she parked the cart at the foot of Hermione's bed, she assessed her patient's condition. "She's too close," Pomfrey snapped, "wake her up!"

Without a word, Ron slipped one of Hermione's arms around his shoulders and hauled her up off the bed. As she was pulled upright, Hermione seemed to come out of it, a bit. "What?" she said thickly.

"We're walking," Ron said, pacing with her to the opposite side of the room.

"Back and forth," Hermione mumbled, and Ron nearly smiled at the completion of the routine. Now that she was moments away from a cure, he was feeling much better. In the absence of the stress and worry, euphoria was fighting for first place among his emotions, again. Really, everything was looking up. Hermione was going to be all right. She loved him, he loved her, and they'd made love for the first time that day. How could it get any better?

As Ron steered Hermione back toward the bed, he amended his thoughts. It would get even better, he realized. Once she was well again, she and Ron would be together. They'd be a couple. Finally. Though it boggled his mind, a little, he couldn't wait. He was smiling when he laid her back down on the bed.

Harry had moved aside to allow Madame Pomfrey unrestricted access to Hermione, and watched carefully as she prepared the antidote. He was still angry with himself for not learning about the Lotus Lepus when he'd had the chance – placing Hermione in danger unnecessarily – and had resolved to never again turn down a learning opportunity. Now, Pomfrey's potion turned bright green and fizzled. When it started emitting a wispy mist, the healer declared it was ready.

As she moved toward Hermione, Madame Pomfrey spared a glance for Ron, who was watching intently. "You did a good job with her," she said, "keeping her awake all this time. Saved her life, you know." She looked back down at Hermione, lifting her head and bringing the beaker to her lips. "It's a shame she won't remember any of it."

Madame Pomfrey's statement completely wiped the smile from Ron's face. Panic battled with confusion as he looked at her, not understanding. "What?"

Pomfrey paused, looking at Ron in surprise. "It's the antidote," she explained once she realized he didn't know. "It'll stop the progression of the poison, but it will also cause her to forget everything from the moment she was bitten. That's why it's called the Excido Remedy…it comes from the Latin word meaning to forget, or lose one's memory."

"What?" Ron said again, this time in despair.

Harry spoke up, remembering something Hermione had said back in the forest. "Wait…this isn't the only antidote, is it? Do the other ones cause amnesia, too?"

Madame Pomfrey turned to him, nodding. "There are two other antidotes, you're quite correct. And neither of them shares this particular side effect. But," she added regretfully, sensing their distress, "they have their own, and the Excido Remedy is the only one that is one hundred percent effective. With either of the other two, you're taking a chance that it won't work, and the victim could still die."

Harry looked at Ron on the other side of the bed. His friend was obviously devastated. Other than Hermione herself, Harry was the only person in the world who could have possibly understood Ron's heart in that instant. It was sinking in, now, that Hermione wouldn't remember him helping her, their mutual declarations of adoration, the kissing, or them making love for the first time together. She'd go back to being just his friend, with no memory of them ever having been anything more to each other.

Ron had just gone from having everything he'd ever wanted, to losing it all in the space of one sentence.

Across Hermione's nearly unconscious form, Harry's sympathetic eyes met Ron's tormented ones. They didn't need any words to communicate. There was no alternative, and both of them knew it. If Hermione didn't get the antidote, she'd die. Between that and Ron losing the love of his life, there was no choice.

There had never really been any decision to make really, in any case…Madame Pomfrey fully intended to save her patient, regardless of what anyone might've said to the contrary. But she'd been drawn into the silent communion between the two boys, as well, and had hesitated despite herself. When the red haired boy – Weasley, she remembered his name was – nodded mutely at her and stood aside, Pomfrey poured the bright green potion down Hermione's throat.

The reaction was immediate. From experience, Madame Pomfrey knew how absolutely horrid the Excido Remedy was reputed to taste, and so she was not surprised when Hermione's eyes opened wide and she sat straight up in bed. "Oh, ugh!" the girl said, quite distinctly.

Ron and Harry crowded back around the bed, anxious to see if she was all right. "Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at him, blinking, for several long seconds before she seemed to find her voice. "Harry? What…?"

Harry smiled with relief. Her color was returning quickly, and she was more alert now than she'd been even right after being bitten by the Lotus Lepus. They'd done it…they'd been in time.

Madame Pomfrey tsk'd, and pushed Hermione back down on the bed so that she was reclining again. "Now now," she said, "You'll want to rest up. The poison of the Lotus Lepus is powerful stuff, and while you're in no danger, anymore, you'll still be feeling its effects, for awhile. You're going to sleep good tonight, I can tell you that."

Hermione's expression was a bit vacant. "The Lotus Lepus?" she asked wonderingly. "Oh yes…it bit me."

She bolted up in bed again, glancing between Harry and Ron. "Did we get it? Is it still out there? It's too cold for it to survive another night out in the forest alone," she said worriedly.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down again, slowly. "We got it," he reassured her. "Hagrid's taking it back to his hut, now."

Hermione frowned. "We got it?"

Ron spoke up for the first time since she'd ingested the antidote. "You're the one who got it in the cage," he answered her. "But you'd been bitten, and Harry left to get the antidote. We…we stayed in the forest."

"This young man saved your life!" Madame Pomfrey said, the way a proud mother would brag about her child's good grades.

Hermione looked at Ron, surprised, but Ron didn't appear to have heard the healer. "I kept you awake," he continued. "Do you…do you remember any of that?"

Harry cast a glance at Ron. His friend was watching Hermione as if his life depended upon her answer.

"I…I remember being in the forest. And I remember you two chasing off after the Lotus Lepus like a couple of idiots," she said, shaking her head with a small smile on her face. It faded away after a moment, however, as she continued. "And then…I remember a pain in my hand."

Hermione stopped and held up her hand, which still sported two puncture wounds. She looked at them, dazed for a moment. She frowned again, concentrating. "But I don't…after that I can't…" She stopped, looking at them all. "That's so odd," she said. "The next thing I remember is swallowing that horrible potion."

Ron's heart broke with her words. It was real, then. She truly remembered nothing of their time together. She didn't remember telling him she loved him. She didn't know that they'd lost their virginity to each other that day. She didn't know – again – how he felt about her.

Nothing had ever hurt this much before. Ever.

Something of the anguish he felt must have shown on his face, because he was startled out of his thoughts by Hermione's voice. Blankly, he looked at her and – realizing he was somewhere else – she repeated herself. "I said, are you all right, Ron? You look…well, not so good."

Ron tried to brighten his expression for her…tried to go back to being friend-Ron, instead of lover-Ron, but oh…it was hard. Swallowing the pain, Ron searched for an answer. "I'm fine," he lied.

Across the bed, Harry watched as Ron heartbreakingly conjured a smile for Hermione, and said, "I'm just glad you're all right."

Hermione smiled back at him, unaware of the effect her obliviousness had on him. Harry saw Ron wilt at her blind acceptance of his answer, and tried to think of a way to get him out of here before he couldn't keep up the ruse any longer. He thought quickly.

"Ron," Harry said, as if it had just occurred to him, "don't you have that essay due Monday, when classes start again?"

"What essay?" Hermione asked, immediately concerned that she'd missed a project.

"Oh, that…essay. It was an extra credit one that Professor Flitwick gave Ron to make up for…uh…the one before."

Ron was too caught up in his misery, and didn't see where Harry was going with this. "Harry, what…?"

"I don't think you should put it off any longer," Harry said loudly, speaking over Ron's protest. "You don't want to get a bad mark on it, after the last one."

Predictably, Hermione took Harry's side. "Oh, go on, Ron! If you keep putting everything off, you'll have to do it all at the last minute, and you won't have enough time! You can't afford to fall behind! Go on, I'll be fine, really, and I'll see you later."

Finally, Ron got it. He realized that Harry was giving him an out…a way to climb out of this particular level of hell. He sketched a weak, sickly smile at Harry and made good his escape from the infirmary.

Hermione watched him go, noting his slumped shoulders but not knowing the reason for it. She turned to Harry. "Is he all right?"

……….

It was nearly an hour later when Harry found Ron out on the Quidditch pitch. He was standing there silently, gazing off into the distance when Harry approached.

Noticing that Ron seemed not to be aware of his presence, Harry spoke. "I've been looking for you."

Startled, Ron glanced at him, then around at the pitch as if he wasn't sure how he'd arrived there. "I…figured I'd come out and fly around for awhile. Try to think."

"Ron," Harry said hesitantly, "where's your broom?"

Ron blinked, looking down at his empty hands. He glanced around vaguely, as if he thought he might've dropped it. "I guess I forgot to bring it with me," he said finally, allowing his hands to drop.

They stood there together in silence for a few minutes before Ron spoke again, his voice quiet and lonely in the night. "I love her, Harry. And we were…it was perfect. It was everything I ever wanted. And it would have worked. I'd have made her happy…I know I would have."

Hating to see his friend like this, but knowing the problem wouldn't just go away, Harry asked quietly, "What are you going to do?"

Ron took a shuddering breath, and Harry allowed him as long as he needed to think it through. At last, he said, "I don't know. I…I can't tell her. But Merlin, I don't know how I can pretend nothing happened between us."

"Why would you have to pretend?" Harry wanted to know. "You could just…tell her."

Ron's reply was bitterly sarcastic. "Sure. That would go over well. Hey, Hermione, I had a great time yesterday when you confessed your love to me. You're a great kisser, and losing my virginity to you was everything I ever thought it would be, and more. Oh, what's that you say? You don't remember any of that? Oh, sorry. Never mind."

Harry cleared his throat, feeling awkward and out of his depth. But Ron was his best friend, and he had to do something. "I…see your point," he said. "But maybe you could just start over. I mean, you know how she feels about you, now. You could just tell her how you feel, and you two could still…"

Ron was already shaking his head. "I can't," he said miserably. "I couldn't be with her and keep that kind of secret. It would…hurt too much."

"It looks like this is pretty painful," Harry noted.

Ron couldn't deny this, as it felt like his heart had been torn in two. Half of it was there in his chest, where it belonged. The other half was up in the hospital wing, with a girl who had no idea she possessed it. It was excruciating.

"We can't tell her," Ron said finally. "Even if it kills me…she can't ever know."

.