Setting: beginning of Chapter 19, "Elf Tails." It's the night after Ron was poisoned.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. I don't.

The Breakdown

So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?

Fred's words pounded in Ginny's head as she hurried to the Common Room. No, it had most certainly not been one of his better birthdays. Not one of his better regular days, either. Hell, it wasn't one of his better bad days.

And he was one of Harry Potter's best friends—he'd had some pretty bad days.

Not that that was Harry's fault, of course.

So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?

Ginny was pretty sure this was Ron's worst birthday. True, she couldn't remember a few of the first ones, but this one was bad. He almost died.

Stupid prat.

Ginny finally reached the common room. Where was Hermione? She needed to find Hermione.

Not one of Ron's better birthdays.

Ginny wondered if Hermione had eaten anything all day. Probably not. Merlin, she had been pale.

Lavender probably had three carefully planned, figure-friendly meals in her perfectly toned stomach. The little—no. Ginny had given up swearing. It wasn't nice.

Neither was Lavender, though, so Ginny spent a moment silently cursing Ron's abysmal choice in girlfriends.

Not one of Ron's better birthdays.

Where the hell was Hermione? She needed to eat, for Merlin's sake.

Ginny circled the common room twice, but Hermione was nowhere to be found.

Hoping that Lavender was somewhere far, far away, Ginny headed to Hermione's room. She knocked softly, but no one answered.

Ginny muttered a silencio and prayed that the spell worked on door hinges.

Huh, she thought as the pushed open the door in complete silence, imagine that. She filed that piece of information away for later use.

Ginny tiptoed into the room and sighed with relief when she saw Hermione asleep on her bed. She still looked pale, though, and Ginny decided she hadn't eaten all day.

Well, that was completely unacceptable.

Not one of Ron's better birthdays.

Annoying as their stupid comments were, sometimes it paid to be related to the twins. It took Ginny less that half an hour to nip down the kitchens and set a plate of food (complete with a warming charm) on Hermione's beside table.

Ginny tucked a note between the hot cocoa and lemon scone.

xxxxx

Hermione woke up in a haze. Why wasn't she in her nightclothes? And why was she so miserable?

She sat up, and it all came back to her.

Ron was poisoned. He almost died. Ron was almost poisoned to death. It was absolutely incomprehensible, and yet it was the absolute truth.

God, it had been a bad day.

Hermione noticed the plate of food on her bedside table, and was shocked to find she was hungry. Shouldn't she be too upset to eat? Shouldn't she be shaking still, horrified at the thought of losing Ron?

Ron would never pass up a chance to eat. She reached for the food.

But wait. Ron had just been poisoned. Should she really be eating strange food? Just who left this food?

She found the note. Seeing it was from Ginny, she opened it and began reading.

Hermione,

I promise you, this food is not poisoned. You will not be sharing a hospital room with Ron tonight. Not that you would mind, I'm sure, but perhaps you would prefer to be unpoisoned and conscious while spending some time with him?

I'm just saying.

Hermione, I want to you clear your plate. Please. You haven't eaten all day, and it's been an overwhelming sort of day. So please, please, please eat all the food I was kind enough to steal for you.

Right now, Hermione. The rest of this letter will wait. Put down the letter and eat some chicken.

Hermione smiled and followed Ginny's instructions. Really, she was very hungry.

For a few moments Hermione thought of nothing but the food. But then she grew curious and picked up the letter again.

You'd best be eating as you read this, Hermione.

Now listen to me. Ron's going to be fine. I'm his sister. We have some sort of psychological connection thingy. He's going to be fine. Stop worrying.

And please, Hermione, stop fighting with him. I can't take it anymore. He's been an absolute prat, and I know he's hurt you, but you need to forgive him. And not just because he almost died. Forgive him because you're miserable.

Of course, if you were to make him beg a bit, that wouldn't be horrible. After all, he is an absolute fool. Honestly, he got up with Lavender when it's painfully obvious he loves you. Stupid prat.

And don't you dare doubt me, Hermione. He loves you, you love him, you're both going to be horribly heroic and help Harry conquer that Dark Idiot, and then you're going to have children with bushy red hair. (After getting married, though, Hermione—Mum would never forgive Ron if he got you pregnant out of wedlock.)

Hermione giggled. It occurred to her that this was an utterly ridiculous reaction, but she giggled anyway. She was very tired.

Hermione, here are your instructions. Firstly, finish the plate of food. Secondly, use the map Harry was kind enough to lend me to sneak down to the Infirmary. Thirdly, have some sort of emotionally-draining, forgiving talk with my git of a brother. Fourthly, kindly return the map to me before sunrise so I can return it to Harry before he wakes up. (He may or may not know I borrowed the map. In fact, he may or may not know that I know that the map exists. But that's of no importance.)

Good Luck,

Ginny

Hermione folded the letter neatly and tucked it under her mattress. She quickly finished eating, then ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath.

Clutching the map, Hermione went to Ron.

xxxxx

It was five thirty in the morning when Hermione woke Ginny up. She had been sleeping in the corner chair in the common room, curled up like a cat.

Ginny opened her eyes slowly. "Where's the map?"

Hermione held it out.

"Did it work?"

"The map always works."

"No, not the map," Ginny said blearily. "The emotionally-draining talk. Did it work?"

Hermione sat down on the footrest. "You brother can be very irritating."

"Oh dear Gods, what did he do?"

Hermione shook her head. "He can also be very sweet."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ginny sighed softly and played with a lock of her hair.

"Ginny, the map? You need to go put it back."

Ginny nodded, not fully awake. She took the parchment, though, and disappeared up the boy's staircase. When she returned, Hermione was still sitting on the footrest.

"You okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked as she sank back into the chair.

"I'm just happy Ron didn't die," she whispered.

The tears that had been threatening Ginny for so long finally won. She cried. In fact, she sobbed, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as her shoulders shook. Hermione had never seen Ginny fall apart like this before, and it took her a moment to react. Only a short moment, though—within seconds Hermione had conjured a handkerchief and squeezed onto the chair next to her. She put an arm over Ginny's shoulder and murmured words of comfort.

"But what if he had died?" Ginny hiccupped. "He's my brother, Hermione. He's Ron. Oh, Gods, he almost died."

"But he didn't," Hermione whispered fiercely. "He didn't die, and he's not going to any time soon."

"You can't promise that, Hermione. No one can."

"I didn't promise."

Ginny cried harder. She hadn't even thought that was possible.

"You know what Ron told me when I was down there?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head.

"He told me that almost dying was a stupid thing to do, and that if he does it again, I'm allowed to send birds at him and you're allowed to send a Bat Bogey Hex."

"Send birds at him?" Ginny managed to choke out.

Hermione blushed. "When I, uh, saw him with that girl, I set a flock of very angry canaries on him."

"He deserved worse," she sniffled.

"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. "He still has the scars on his arms, though."

Ginny was feeling a bit hysterical at this point; she laughed as she cried. "He told me those were from helping Hannah Abbott in Herbology."

"You believed that lie?"

"Shut up. You can't make fun of someone who's crying."

Hermione wrapped Ginny into a hug. Within a few minutes, Ginny had composed herself and was feeling a bit embarrassed. Hermione sensed this, and returned to the footrest.

"Sorry about the breakdown," she mumbled. "I… it's just… almost everyone I love is involved in this war. I have a big family, and the odds are against us. I'm so afraid, Hermione, that someone isn't going to make it."

"No, Ginny, you can't—"

"Let me finish, Hermione, please." Ginny was close to tears again. "Chances are high that someone I love is going to die. It's the truth and I've accepted it. So I can't lose anyone to stupid reasons like random poison. I just can't."

"Don't you dare think like that," Hermione hissed. "No, that is the absolute wrong way to think. You can't accept that you're going to lose someone. You have to fight for them."

"Why do you think I'm so scared, Hermione?" Ginny brushed the tears away impatiently. "Because we are fighting. Because we're going to keep fighting until he's dead."

"The Order is better prepared this time."

"Fat lot that will do next time Harry runs off to save someone. Or the next time dementors attack. Or the next time my brother drinks poison. Honestly, what a stupid way to die when there's a war going on."

"But he didn't die."

"But I'm so afraid he will, Hermione. He'd sacrifice himself for this war, you know that, right?"

"We all would, Ginny."

Ginny shook her head, refusing to hear that. "No, you don't understand. He flat-out told me he'd jump in front of a killing curse aimed at you or Harry or any one of us." Ginny touched her hair, indicating the Weasley family.

"No," Hermione breathed. "He can't. He wouldn't. He can't possibly."

"He would, though, Hermione. And that's the right thing to do, of course, but… he's my brother and I don't want him to." Ginny hated that she was crying again, hated that she was whining, hated that she wasn't in the privacy of her four-poster.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure no killing curses are aimed at us while he's in lunging distance."

"Are you actually making a joke right now?"

"No, I'm making a plan. Ron is not going to sacrifice himself for me."

"Your plan needs a few of the details worked out."

Hermione nodded. She was looking at Ginny strangely.

Ginny took a few deep breaths and wiped her eyes one last time. "Thanks for the handkerchief, Hermione." She yawned. "I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."

Hermione accepted the handkerchief silently.

"Hermione?"

She jumped slightly, and looked at Ginny in wonder. "Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I never realized."

"Never realized what?"

"Your entire family is in danger—in mortal peril. Most of your friends are connected to this whole… this whole fiasco. You love The Chosen One. Oh, my God. No wonder you're scared."

Ginny sat rigidly. "Don't call him The Chosen One. He's just Harry."

Hermione ignored the interruption. "Your father almost died. Oh, Ginny, and almost all your brothers are in the Order."

"I know that already," she said tightly.

"Listen to me, Ginny. You are the bravest girl I have ever met. You never let on what this war is doing to you." An image of a diary bloomed in Hermione's mind and she cursed herself for forgetting. "Oh my God, what it already did to you. Ginny, I don't know how you stay calm."

"Yeah, I'm really doing a bang-up job of it right now," she muttered.

"Everyone's allowed the occasional melt-down. Especially during a war."

"I think mine's done. I'm too tired to cry anymore."

"I'll let you go to bed, then."

Ginny smiled slightly, clearly grateful. "Thank you."

She disappeared up the dormitory staircase without another word. Hermione watched her go, feeling that she had never quite given Ginny Weasley enough credit.

xxxxx

xxxxx

Author's notes: Extended versions of Chapters One through Three are currently up at Checkmated. Go check them out, and then check out all the fabulous RHr fics Checkmated has to offer. (For those of you who don't know, Checkmated is a fanfic archive devoted the joy of Ron and Hermione. An excellent site, I assure you.)

Next update will be quick—within a week, two at the most. Hope to see you then.