Happy Saturday! The next two chapters are a lot of what everyone's been waiting for.

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Before he knows what's happening, he collapses onto the chair next ti her bed, body overcome with sobs. Hell, he's wailing, blubbering like a sodding baby at the mere sight.

Never in all his life has he ever been overcome with so many emotions. Love, fear, relife, guilt, a fierce need to protect her, and so much heart break he can almost feel his chest ache.

Emotional range of a teaspoon my arse.

It isn't until he's calmed considerably Merlin knows how much later that he debates peeling his hands from his eyes. He's afraid seeing her that she'll vanish right before him or that he just can't take it.

After settling from harsh cries into silent tears, Ron leans closer to the bed ridden girl. He's careful not to touch her, but he's close enough that he can make out every contour on her face under the cuts and bruises. He's close enough that if she was awake his breath would surely tickle the edges of her hair, blowing it slightly into her face. And if he was lucky enough she'd scrunch her nose the way he loved whenever her hair got in the way.

Merlin I miss her.

He can feel the twisting of his gut curl further as he thinks of everything he wants, no needs, again. Before he can let it worsen, he wills himself to speak.

"I'm here now love, I'm here darling." He whispers throatily.

Ron resists the urge to stroke her hair, he can't. No matter how much he wants to…

So, he continues speaking, "I'm never leaving you again Mione, you hear me?" Of course she doesn't. "I'm never gonna let anyone hurt you again love, never."

He swears he sees her brow twitch the slightest bit. At this, he goes on.

"And that includes me." he admits raspily, "I'm so sorry darling for all the times I've hurt you. I swear I'll never do it again. I'm going to try so hard each and every day to make it up to you, to protect you. From Lavender, Cormac, from anyone who crosses you. I'm going to make sure you never see a dark wizard again, okay love? I'll even-"

"Hermione." A broken voice floats from behind.

Ron has half the mind to pull his wand, just in case, but soon settles as his eyes meet the looming figures.

"Merlin." Harry says in the same tone as he saunters forward.

In his eyes is the same look Ron had only moments ago. Heartbroken. Guilty.

Weasley opens his mouth to comfort Harry, but the words die on his lips. He just can't. No words fit. Nothing he could ever say would be enough to make the painstaking feeling diminish. Nothing but Hermione herself.

"What did I do?" The Boy Who Lived cried out.

Now that, Ron wouldn't take, "No."

His glassy green eyes snap to blue ones in surprise at how strong Ron's voice sounded.

He shook his head, "don't say that Harry, please. It happened and even though I'd give anything to take it back, we can't. We just can't. That's not how things work, so please, don't make this any harder than it is." He pleads to his best mate.

The air is silent and tense for a moment. Harry's gaze never waivers from Hermione's form, and Ron's stare never diverges from Potter.

And what Harry says next shocks him like no other, "okay." He says simply, walking to the other side of the bed.

Harry understands too. He understands that Hermione is all that matters now.

As he plops onto the chair he gently places his finger tips atop the small strip of exposed skin between the cast on her arm and the part of the gown covering her shoulder.

Ron looks away quickly, unable to do what Harry is at this moment. It's all too familiar. He can't lose her again.

Needing a distraction, h esoon remembers his trail of thoughts from whispering to Hermione. He gulps, preparing to share them with his best mate. "Harry, I need to be honest with you right here, right now. I promise on my last breath that I will kill them. Bellatrix, Greyback, Malfoy, Dolohov, all of them. I'll do it, or I'll die trying." He said with so much conviction, eyes never leaving Hermione's battered form.

"Ron-"

"Don't give me that crap. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise. You may be the chosen one mate, but no one, and I mean-"

"Ron," Harry said harshly, "I was going to say I'm with you." He finished a little softer, but still with an edge.

"You're with- what?" He questioned a bit taken aback.

"I said I'm with you." He repeated steadily.

"You are?" Ron doubted. Normally Harry would adamantly refuse a claim, fearing for Ron's safety.

He nodded after a moment, "yeah I am. Too many people have suffered because of-"

"Don't say because of you." He cut off.

"I wasn't." Harry assured, "I was going to say because of all this, him, the war. Something needs to be done, for the future. For Sirius, Cedric, my parents, and especially for Hermione."

Ron can't do anything but nod slightly in agreement as he allows himself to rove over Hermione's stil form again. Everytime feels like a small part of his heart cracking slowly and painfully.

His fingers twitch as he physically longs to reach out for her, but again, he can't.

Needing a distraction from his own thoughts and from the questioning gaze Harry's throwing him, he goes on, "They found a wand. Not hers."

He nodded in response, "Bill said as much. Do you really think she apparated? We haven't even had lesson yet, even if she did-"

"She's bloody brilliant, Harry." Ron insisted, "so much that she's always five steps ahead. I mean, I wasn't even quick enough to save her before she went off and did it herself. Useless." He mumbles the last line.

"Hey," Harry says sharply, "just like I'm not allowed to blame myself, neither are you, okay? We'll have all the time in the world to feel sorry for ourselves later once we know she's gonna be alright." He finished softer.

And Ron doesn't have the heart to argue. He's so mentally drained and he's so dead set on prioritizing Hermione, that all he can do is nod feebly.

They fall into silence. Both just watching the subtle rise and fall of Hermione's chest. They're almost transfixed by the sight, to have her back it's almost like a dream.

But that's exactly what Ron's afraid of.

All while these fears run wild, Harry can see Ron's hand unconsciously itching to lay atop hers.

"Go on Ron." He whispers. He knows he doesn't need his permission, but he can sense his friend needs a nude.

He snaps out of his state at his best mate's voice. The ginger seems to know what Harry means and looks like he's about to break down all over again, "I-I can't."

"Yes you can. You won't hurt her, we both know that."

Ron pushed down the urge to fight with him on the topic and spoke, "It's not that." He croaked.

Well, not entirely anway...

"Then what?" Potter questioned.

"I'm so scared Harry. I'm fucking terrifed that if I touch her this will all fade away. It won't be real. Just another nightmare." He shakes, tears streaming down his face.

Harry premivley wipes his eyes as he fgeels the moisture build, "It's not Ron, I promise, please, trust me. It's real. You found her."

"No I didn't-"

"Please." Harry pleads from across the bed, making a show of taking Hermione's other bandaged hand gently.

With a shaky breath Ron extends his lanky fingers as they slowly come in contact with the back of her other wrapped hand.

He nearly doubles over when he doesn't phase through.

Her hand is so small in his own. Smaller than it's ever been before. And it feels almost fragile.

Though sometimes Ron may treat her like she is, never has he associated Hermione with being fragile. She's tough as anything and the bravest Gryffindor of them all. But now, sitting here, all he can think is how that's the very thing that they tried to strip away from her.

It makes him sick.

So much so, he feels a bile rise in his throat.

Not wanting to lose his shit anymore than he already has, he gently caresses the back of her hand, using the soft skin to anchor his thoughts.

It's amazing that even though she was tortured, broken down, and beaten, she still was so soft, so insanely beautiful.

Her cheeks may not have the same flush. Her skin may be paler and dotted with horrible hues of purple and slashed red. Her shape may be disfigured by the protruding bones, but she's still her. She's still Hermione and that's all that matters right now.

The thought alone makes him break down all over again.

This time he allows himself to rest his head on the edge of her bed, right next to her thigh. He cries at the feeling of her hand in his own. At the feeling of his head pressed against her. Because she's real, she's here, she's finally here.

"Son." A soft voice calls as a gentle hand finds itself atop his shoulder.

Ron looks up through misty eyes to find his father hovering over him. As he surveys the room he realizes Harry is gone.

Merlin, he must've been blubeering like a fuvcking baby longer than he thought.

"Dad." He croaks, wiping at his runny nose with his sleeve, "did you find anything?"

"How is she?" He averts. Ron notices.

"Exactly how she looks, I reckon. I'm sure Mum already told you about what the healer had to say." He shrugs.

"Yes." Arthur nods, "yes she did. I just can't help but wonder-"

"Dad," Ron cuts off, "Did you find anything?" He repeats surprisingly calm.

sighs, his boy has grown more than he cares to admit. It's almost frightening.

"Yes, I did." he says sitting on the chair Harry once occupied.

"And?" The younger boy presses.

"And tonight the Department of Magical Transportation did in fact get a notice that an underage witch apparated to Diagon Alley the same time your brothers found Hermione."

Ron huffefd, they all suspected it, but to hear that Hermione really did it. Well, let's just say he would be more amazed if she was awake to hear his praise.

"However, while we know for certain it was Hermione, that information didn't actually show up in the Ministry report." He informed.

"What? Why?" Ron questioned with a furrowed brow.

"Well since the wand she used was registered to someone of age to perform apparition, it could only notify the service that someone did apparate. If it's not on an underage or unlicensed WIzard's wand, it's tricker." Arthur elaborates.

Ron had no time to focus on the logistics. Only one thing stood out.

"So you know whose wand it is then? Whose?" He prones.

His father eyes him wearily before speaking, "The wand," he stops, voice scratchy, and clears his throat, "the wand belongs to Narcissa Malfoy."

Ron blinks a few times in disbelief, mouth falling in an 'o', "Wha-how?"

"Only Hermione could tell us that son."

If she remembers. The words are unspoken, but Ron can see his father fighting the urge to say it. Like they still think they could protect him from everything.

"You have to understand Ron, wands, they're very sacred things. Especially to old Pureblood families, especially to people like the Black's and the Malfoy's. Neither will like the idea that a Muggleborn was able to best them and use one." Arthur spoke in a hushed voice.

The weight that lifted ever so slightly at the sight of Hermione soon falls back on him. This time ten times heavier than before.

"So what you're saying, is that you think they'll come for her?"

Arthur nods sadly.

Ron turns red with anger.

"We'll do everything we can son. The Order will be around, the wards-"

"The wards?" Ron yells, "The Order? Please! Where did they get Hermione, where did they get her parents?" He boomed.

"Ronnie please-" tries as he notches Hermione squirm slightly from over his son's shoulder.

"Everyone needs to do better! Everyone! Do you even-"

A strangled sound makes him halt. "Mmm…"

His wide eyes flick to the bed as Hermione's face tightens into a painful scowl.

From behind, his father leaves, feeling that he's intruding. The door squeaks in his wake.

Ron falls to his knees and grasps her hand, "That's it love, you can do it. Come Mione. Come back Darling." He pleads through glassy eyes.

"C…" The noise sounds like a hiss.

"That's it, come on love." He encourages as he strokes her hand hoping that somewhere inside her brilliant mind she's registering all of this.

"Cissy." She barely manages through the pain.

Ron's eyes find his fathers in nothing but confusion. Was it just mummers of nonsense or could it mean something? But what?

Whatever it is, he just hopes she remembers when she wakes.


And done! The next chapter Hermione is back! Unfortunately it isn't all a joyous reunion.

Here's a preview!:

But his touch, it feels so real, so soft. His hand feels exceptionally large and calloused against her cheek, not at all like Narcissa's small smooth hand.

It can't be real. There's no way. My mind is playing tricks, but please, let me feel it a bit longer…

Her eyes fluttered shut and Ron's worried he's lost her again, "Please open your eyes love, it's me. Let me show you please." He croaks.

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