Hermione slid down the grassy slope towards the Lake. She lost her footing and tumbled the rest of the way down. As she fell, her hand hit a sharp boulder and cut her hand.

"Oww…" She moaned, sitting up and holding her hand to her chest. She started to cry—for herself, for her hand, for her horrible timing and bad luck and—for Ron. Ron! She forgot her sorrows for a moment to think, I shouldn't have left him there with Harry. He'll kill him for messing around with Amy! Holy Merlin! She started to get up, but as she did a voice came from behind her.

"'Mione?" She turned around and looked up the slope. Ron stood there, breathing heavily, beet red and with nothing but a t-shirt on out on this cold winter night. She stepped back, away from the slope, but lost her footing and fell back into the Lake. The water was like ice—cold—freezing. Luckily the water was shallow and Ron—who'd skidded down the side of the slope—splashed in and got her out in a minute or two. He carried her, both of their teeth chattering, back to the castle.

Instead of taking her back to the dormitories, he took her down a long hall. She picked her wet head up off his shoulder and looked to where they were going.

"Warmth, friendship, comfort…" He muttered a few times as he slowed his pace. A large wooden door popped up out of thin air. The Room of Requirement, Hermione thought as he walked towards the door. He's taking me to the Room of Requirement. Thank you Ron…

"Thank you Ron…" She murmured before leaning on his shoulder and closing her eyes again. He said something in reply, but she couldn't make out what it was. She felt him open the door, close it, place her gently on something soft and warm. She heard him moving around the room, muttering to himself. After a few minutes, he nudged her and she opened her eyes.

"'Mione, I need to look at your hand okay?" He whispered. She nodded, then closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow. She felt Ron's hand caress hers, running his over her own damaged one. After a few minutes, he'd poured a cooling liquid over it and wrapped it in gauze.

"Thanks Ron." She muttered before she let her eyes close and she drifted off to sleep.

Ron jerked his eyes open and sat up. What in the devil…? He thought, looking around. His eyes fell on Hermione, sleeping soundly, yet fitfully. She jerked and cried out.

"..Don't leave me…" She moaned, pulling herself into a ball and shivering. The blanket Ron had thrown over her earlier was on the ground next to the couch she was laying on. He jumped out of the chair he'd been asleep in and hurried over to her. He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her firmly.

"Hermione, Hermione! Wake up; you're having a bad dream! Hermione!" He shook her again. Her eyes popped open. Her body—rigid five minutes ago, collapsed and she fell against him. He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her small frame and let her cry onto his shoulder. Her arms, pinned between his chest and her own, grabbed at his shirt.

"Don't leave me, Ron, please don't leave me."

"I'll never leave you Hermione—never in a thousand years." He let her cry for a few moments more, then laid her back onto the sofa and threw the blanket over her. She had calmed down now and was simply staring at the floor, ashamed of losing control in front of Ron. He walked over to a counter in the corner of the room and started to fix some cocoa for them. Hermione looked around the room for the first time, taking everything in. The room was small, but cozy; similar to the Burrow. The couch she was laying on had a sweet yet old odor, and the chair Ron had occupied had a doily draped over the back. The quilt she had hugged so tightly to her chest during her crying spell was soft and warm, made from scraps of fabric and tiny stitches. A small fire was blazing in the brown and red brick fireplace and children's drawings were hung on the wall. Bookshelves lined one wall—made of dark mahogany—standing out in this comfortable mismatched room. The scrap rugs lying on the floor were worn, faded, and absolutely welcoming. Hermione snuggled down under the quilt and watched Ron in the small kitchenette while her warmed milk and stirred chocolate mix into it. Within a few minutes he was back at her side with a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked as he sat next to her on the sofa. She slipped her hands around the mug, which warmed her fingers and made her feel even more relaxed and comfortable.

"It—It was the same dreams I had when we were younger. Voldemort came back and took you or Harry. Only, this time was worse. I don't know why—maybe it was just the shock of seeing Amy and Harry in bed together that did it." She said, taking a long sip of chocolate after she was done. Ron was surprised at her directness—her lack of emotion considering the subject.

"You're okay then? With walking in on Harry and Amy—well, you aren't upset?" He stammered out finally. She shook her head and sighed.

"I could tell something was going on. He was pushing me away, he didn't want me near him and I couldn't find out why. I don't know why I'm not more upset—I guess it was because it wasn't Harry that I wanted to be with for the rest of my life." She sighed as Ron looked at her with wide eyes and a heavy heart.

"…I don't know why I'm not more upset—I guess it was because it wasn't Harry that I wanted to be with for the rest of my life." Hermione caught herself just in time. She had been about to say, It wasn't Harry I wanted to be with for the rest of my life…it was you…it still is and always will be…" She watched as Ron's expression changed from one of confusion to one of shock. She saved herself by interrupting his thoughts.

"What about Amy?" She whispered, running a hand over the rim of her mug.

"What about her? We're over—I was going to break up with her tomorrow actually. I was suspecting she was seeing somebody else. I just never imagined it was my best friend…" Ron shrugged and looked over Hermione's head at the blazing fire. Before she could stop herself, Hermione had placed her hand on Ron's, which was lying on the couch between them. He didn't push her away, so she stayed and they sat like that for awhile. Hermione looked over at Ron after a few minutes and caught him staring at her.
"What?" She asked, smiling at him. "Do I have something on my face?" Ron shook his head.

"No, I was just wondering. When you said it wasn't Harry that you wanted to be with…Who did you want to be with if not Harry?" Hermione blushed and said something under breath. "What?" He asked, urging her on.

"Nothing..." She replied, keeping her eyes on the cocoa in the mug.