"It's dark."
"I know."
"It's cold."
"I know."
"I'm tired."
"I know."
"We're lost."
"I KNOW!"
He yelled the last part, causing her to jump and scold him.
"Hush, Ron! You've got no idea what creatures live in these woods! Oh God… you don't think there could be bears, do you?"
She turned to face him, looking panic stricken.
"Oh, yes, there could be wolves too, and monkeys, and maybe even fanged elephants seeing as how to my extent of knowledge we're in the middle of England."
Hermione bit her lip. "I'm scared."
Ron sighed. "I know, Hermione. But it will be okay; at least we've got each other."
He smiled reassuringly, and she crept closer to him, and following as he tried to find a path through the trees.
Owls were hooting, and Hermione jumped at the sound of field mice, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Meanwhile back at the house, Mrs. Weasely was in torrents.
"Hush, Molly, I'm sure they're fine, they're probably just somewhere up in the attic," Arthur tried to console his sobbing wife, and looking despairingly at his oldest son.
"B-but they're no-ooooot!" Molly wailed, and tried to wipe the tears away. "I m-made b-bill and everybody-dy check the w-whole h-house th-ree times alrea-ady." She hiccupped, and swiped at her eyes more fiercely.
"Well, we'll check again," Arthur said, and he and Bill left the kitchen, leaving an over anxious Molly Weasely behind. "Oh Ron," she whispered. "Where are you?"
"I don't fucking know for the last time Hermione!"
Irritated, Ron sped up his pace, ignoring Hermione's pleas to slow down and that she couldn't see a thing. It was only after he heard her cry of pain that he allowed himself to admit defeat. Gingerly picking his way back through the bushes, he found Hermione on the floor, bent over her oddly angled foot.
"It hurts," she moaned, and it didn't take a second for Ron to realise it was broken.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clutched her foot, trying not to make noise as she cried.
"Oh God," Ron whispered, sinking down in the ground next to her, and staring at her blankly. "Hermione I'm so sorry."
But Hermione shook her head, although her shoulders shook and she wanted to yell at him that this was all his fault. "Don't blame yourself."
"Who else is there to blame?"
Forcing herself to speak in a controlled voice, she barely managed a "no ones."
"Yes it is. It's my fault. And now we're lost and you've got a broken foot."
Hermione bit her lip. "It hurts," she repeated, and Ron's heart cracked. Ignoring the cold that filled him as he took off his shirt, he managed to wrap the piece of clothing around Hermione's increasingly swelling foot tightly, securing it, and grimacing at his un neat work. It would stop the swelling, but it wouldn't stop the pain, he knew, and Hermione's tears continued to flow silently, as she bit her lip.
"Its okay, Hermione," he whispered, his blue eyes taking in her slightly shaking shoulders. "You don't always have to be brave."
And he drew her into a hug as she muffled her sobs into his chest.
It was around three in the morning when she finally fell asleep, Ron's arms wrapped around her protectively, her eyelashes in clumps due to intense crying. Dew had settled on them already, and Ron, who had promised to stay awake until she fell asleep, shivered as a cold breeze passed over them.
Drawing Hermione to him tighter, he froze as she moved, but relaxed again as she snuggled closer, her head against his chest. He smiled feebly, and wondered when sleep was ever going to come to him.
Back at Grimmauld's place, his mother was wondering the same thing.
