4
Ron is right; you can't fight with your face bleeding like a waterfall, so you allow him to lead you to the castle. You notice that his hand has gone from holding your wrist to holding your hand, but you really don't mind. His face looks determined, but at the same time, just a little nervous. You wonder what is on his mind as you find your way through the woods.
Ron winds his way through the bushes and trees until you reach a trapdoor in the ground, and Ron knocks on it hard with his fist.
"Password?" a large voice booms on the other side.
"Lord Moldyshorts," Ron said clearly, and the door opens to reveal a long, dark corridor.
"Good day Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," a drawling voice says, and you look around to see Severus Snape, his lip curling in dislike.
"Sir, we need to see Madame Pomfrey. Hermione's got a cut," Ron says, and to Hermione's surprise, Snape lets them go without a fight.
"Second door on the left," Severus says in an oily, voice filled with contempt.
With a nod, Ron takes your hand again, this time with his fingers laced in yours, and guides you down the hall. He opens a door, and you both step into a room that is lined with stretchers, many of which are occupied. The occupied beds have the hangings around them closed, and from some beds, groans of pain can be heard.
You do not like this place; the very air of it is foreboding and reckless.
Madame Pomfrey swoops down on you and begins dabbing things on your cut with many tuts and other words.
"A young girl like you, fighting in a battle like this. I hope the Potter boy comes out of this without too many cuts."
You feel your face burn as she dabs on a purple potion, and then Madame Pomfrey heals your wound with her wand. All the while, Ron is staring at the wall with a grave look upon his face.
When Madame Pomfrey releases you, you see that Ron is again looking odd, so you ask him what is wrong.
"Ron, are you aright? You seem distracted." You say.
Ron looks down at you with a hard expression.
"I'm fine," you hear him reply, but you don't believe him.
"Are you sure? Because you don't seem alright. You haven't been yourself lately. You seem distant and confused and nauseated all the time. If there's something I can do, I'll do it, Ron. I just want to be your friend, I want to know." You insist.
Ron stops where he is standing, gives you a strange look that you cannot identify, and then pulls you into the nearest room and locks the door. The room is vacant; it seems to be an old dueling room, but it is long since anyone has used it.
Ron grabs your hands and looks into your eyes with his fiery blue ones. His hair is wet and his clothes are, too, and you feel your pulse quicken. He brings his face close to yours; your faces are almost touching.
"Hermione," he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, "I – I feel…different than I used to. Ever since fourth year, when Krum took you to the Yule ball, I've felt strange about it… about you. And at the funeral, well, you know, the feelings felt stronger than before."
"Ron, I –" you try to say, but he puts a finger to your lips.
"No Hermione, I need to say it now, or I might never be able to say it. I think… I think I love you. I wanted to say it now, just in case today we," he faltered for a moment, "in case I don't make it."
You are pretty much speechless at the moment, but you don't need to say anything, for Ron has just gently pressed his lips upon yours. He breaks away, looking embarrassed.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Ron says, blushing profusely.
You give the smallest giggle, and he looks at you, slightly offended.
"What?" he demands, trying to sound confident.
You shake your head and pull him into a deeper kiss – a real kiss. He tenses up, but then relaxes as he realizes you're not going to hex him. Suddenly, though, you think of all of the people that are giving their lives on the battlefield.
If you want to stop this and go up to the battlefield, go to chapter 7
If you think that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and want to continue, go to chapter 8