It was around 11am when Ron woke up, conscious of the sleeping girl that still lay curled up next to him in the yellow dried grass. Stretching lazily, and wincing in pain as his muscles screamed, he stood up, ignoring the dizziness that followed.
His throat was parched – he hadn't drunk anything since the last day at breakfast – and he tried not to gulp as he looked around.
Sunlight was streaming through the leaves that the trees were bedecked with, and he could make out white clouds in the sky. Sighing, he decided it were best not to go wandering off and leave Hermione behind in case she woke up. He knew she'd have a seizure, yesterday was enough to prove that.
Instead of waking her up however, he rested his head against a tree, and closed his eyes, letting the sun play on his face.
It wasn't until he opened his eyes again, and found Hermione watching him with a smile on her face, that he realised the situation they were in.
"Are you okay?" He asked her, ignoring the thumping in his head, and the pain that seemed to have been building up in his chest.
"Thirsty."
He smiled. "I was actually referring to your foot."
She winced. "It could be better."
He stood up straight and made his way over to her. "D'you want me to take a look at it?"
Hermione shook her head, and he let her be.
"I have no idea how to get home," he confessed, his head drooping, and surveying the dirt on which he sat. "Do you?"
When she shook her head in reply once more, he sighed. "We're in deep shit."
Hermione laughed. "I wish I could yell at you, but since it won't do any help, I suppose I'll just have to agree with you."
They were silent for a while, Ron wishing the pain in his chest could just leave, and Hermione wishing she had painkillers on her.
"So what so we do now?" Hermione asked, hoping the answer didn't involve walking.
Ron shrugged. "We'll just have to find our way back."
On her grimace he frowned.
"Me carrying you of course."
Her face relaxed somewhat, before realising what he'd said.
"No!" She exclaimed, far too loudly.
On Ron's bemused expression she added hastily. "I mean, wouldn't it be better if you went on ahead and when you find them, they can come get me? Then you wouldn't have to carry me and it would be much easier, don't you think?"
"Hermione," Ron said angrily, and she shrank away. "I'm not leaving you behind, you'll get yourself killed."
And with that – along with Hermione's loud protests – He swept her up into his arms, and slung her over his shoulder, grinning.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" Hermione shrieked, terrified as she found herself hanging upside down. "Let me down now!"
Ron was still grinning as he changed position, so that she was in his arms.
"There," Ron smirked. "Better?"
Hermione tried to ignore the muscular arms that were wrapped around her, and did her best to scowl. "Thank you," she said grudgingly.
Four hours later as they finally found their way back to grimmaud's place, she found herself sobbing these two same words into Ron's chest, as Bill gently pried her out of his brother's arms whose face was contorted in pain, and who blacked out four seconds later.
