Author's Note: I'M BAAAACK!!!!! I figured I couldn't let an entire year go by without posting another chapter to this story. When was the last time I posted? July 10, 2006… that is so bad :-D I won't make excuses as to why I have been silent for about a year, it would take too long and you probably wouldn't want to listen about my views on my wonderful high school classes. I started a new fic around Christmas called "Secrets" though, it's pretty angsty but I kind of like it (check it out all you Ron and Hermione shippers… I don't know if I should continue it…). Anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter 11 and don't forget to tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, it all belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling… who still after ten years continues to ensnare me into her books!

A Fighting Chance

Chapter 11: A Nearly Fatal Birthday

Hermione skidded to a halt outside of the closed double doors where she saw Harry and Ginny talking in hushed voices. "What's happening? Is he alright? I just barely saw Professor McGonagall, she told me…she told me that," she stuttered, trying to form complete sentences through her breathlessness and waves of anxiety. "Is it true?"

"It's true," Ginny said. Her face was expressionless, her mouth was set in a thin line, and her freckled cheeks were pale as snow. Although Ginny's face seemed vacant of all emotion, Hermione could tell that her friend was angry as well as worried.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, I…" Harry started.

"Harry, I need to know," Hermione demanded, looking resolutely into his concerned green eyes.

He seemed to search her face for a reason not to tell her what had happened, but he mustn't have found anything because he reluctantly began, "We were in our dormitories and Ron decided to eat one of my chocolate cauldrons that was spiked with a love potion made by Romilda."

"Of course they were kind of aged I guess, so the potion was much stronger. He was completely obsessed, I didn't know what else to do but take him to Slughorn. He of course helped and gave Ron the antidote, but before we could leave, he pulled out a bottle of mead that he was supposed to give to Dumbledore for Christmas. Slughorn poured us each a glass and was making a toast when Ron began to drink it. When he did, he became all rigid and then started twitching. The only thing I could think of was a bezoar, and I can only hope it worked. He stopped convulsing afterwards and wasn't as blue, but I haven't seen him since…"

"So you don't know if he's okay?" Hermione whispered.

Harry shook his head as Ginny said, "They don't feel it's necessary for us to know even though I'm his sister and you two are only his best friends."

"Ginny, I'm sure he's going to be alright," Hermione said, trying to convince Ginny and herself at the same time. "Bezoars are–"

"How could you possibly know that? Can you really guarantee that he's going to be fine?" Ginny interrupted, her brown eyes enflamed with anger, her voice dripping with frustration and irritation.

"Ginny, she's only trying to help," Harry said.

"Yes, that's what you've been saying this entire time. 'They're only trying to help.' 'Everything's going to be okay, Ginny,'" she snapped. "It's not your brother in there."

"No, but he's my best friend," Harry said coolly.

"And at least you were on good terms with him," Hermione whispered.

Both Harry and Ginny remained silent, shuffling their feet as a sense of awkwardness befell them. She was glad that they hadn't tried to make her feel better. Nothing they could have said would have changed her mood or thoughts at that moment. Guilt and the worry of never seeing Ron again seemed to weigh her down. He was her best friend, her…

It was a bit before noon and she had been waiting since early morning. Hermione shrank down to the marbled floor before the double doors that led into the hospital wing, knowing full well that there would still be a very long wait. Harry and Ginny soon followed suit, unable to stand any longer.

Seconds became minutes and minutes slowly became hours. The clock seemed to taunt and laugh at her, ticking at its leisure. It was two o'clock now, and there had been no news. Nobody had come out to tell them anything. Hermione's eyes fell upon Ginny who was as pale as ever and chewing her nails with what seemed like great concentration, while Harry was absentmindedly running his hands through this untidy and unruly hair.

The clock continued to grin down at her, wanting to make her suffer. She watched the second hand happily dance round and round the face of the clock and silently cursed its cruelty.

Hermione stood up again, and began pacing. She barely took notice to Harry and Ginny's conversation which sounded so distant. As she continued to pace, she played with her cold hands, clenching and unclenching them, clasping and unclasping them. She tried everything to keep her mind off of the inevitable, but nothing was working. Concerned eyes watched her; she felt them, but paid them no heed.

Every now and then someone would walk out of the doors ignoring them and leaving Hermione standing on the tips of her toes trying to catch a glimpse of Ron. Each hour that passed and each time the door was opened brought more anxiety and no information of Ron's situation. It was eight o'clock when the doors finally opened, and Madam Pomfrey allowed them into the hospital wing.

Hermione had to restrain herself from running into the room and allowed Ginny to go into the room before her. She was his sister after all. The three filed into the room, Ginny first and then Harry and Hermione together.

All three dragged chairs over to Ron's bed and looked intently upon him, hoping to see some sign of consciousness. Hermione felt helpless as she looked at his frail frame and colorless face. His flaming red hair made him look worse than he actually was, but she couldn't bear to look at him. He looked to weak, so fragile. Madam Pomfrey had said he would be alright. What if he wouldn't have been alright? What if he wouldn't have made it? What if the bezoar hadn't worked? What if Harry hadn't been there? What if he wouldn't have cheated during Potions class? The last thing she would have said to him would have been, "I don't know anymore," in response to his question, "But we'll always be friends, right?"

Hermione was past crying. She had wanted to, it felt better after she had a good cry, but this time she couldn't. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she placed her head in her hands.

She couldn't let this happen again. She needed to tell him that she never wanted to argue with him like this ever. Sure they could have their rows, it was normal for them, but never like this. Hermione knew now that she needed to tell Ron how sorry she was. She needed his friendship, if nothing else. It kept her sane. It kept her solid. It kept her from completely falling apart. Hermione was notorious for being independent; everyone had always assumed that she didn't need anyone's help or support and she always thought that she was capable of handling things on her own. She now knew that she was wrong, ever since she and Ron had had their spat, she had turned into something she wasn't. Something she never was. She was a wreck, quick to temper, jealous, overly emotional and it was all because she didn't have Ron. Her anchor.

Hermione hadn't even noticed that Fred and George had arrived. Harry was recounting what had happened for the umpteenth time that day with Ginny adding in her tidbits every now and then. She was grateful that they weren't talking to her, she didn't want to talk and she didn't think that she could even if she had wanted to.

"Her-my-nee…"

The room fell silent and they all looked hopefully at Ron, Hermione in particular. He continued to mumble but soon began snoring again. Four pairs of eyes looked over at Hermione and all had the same questioning look on their face, but before she could say anything the double doors burst open and Hagrid rushed in. Soon afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, which was when Harry, Hagrid, and Hermione decided to take their leave, even though deep down she wanted to stay by his side until he was conscious again. Her eyes darted back to Ron one last time and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking when he had said her name.

When Hermione and Harry reached the Gryffindor Common Room, she escaped to the dormitories and collapsed on her four poster bed. She closed her eyes and exhaled heavily, trying to calm her mind.

I should've stayed… He would've stayed for me…

It's not like you're going to be able to sleep anyway…

I'll get caught though…I don't have an invisibility cloak…

I have a wand… And it's only a detention if I do get caught…

But detention?

Wouldn't it be worth it?

- - - - -

The walls seemed to close in, the darkness enveloped him. Desperate shouts and screams of terror came from down the corridor. He pushed himself, ordering his legs to move faster.

Reaching the end of the corridor, flashes of light met his eyes as spells ricocheted off of the walls. Red, blue, and green. Green. His presence caught the attention of one of the hooded enemies. Soon engaged in a duel with the death eater, he expertly deflected the spells and tried to disarm his opponent. Whenever he could manage, his blue eyes scanned the crowds desperately looking for her. He looked back at his opponent, repelled another spell, and found an opening.

"Impedimenta!" he shouted, disabling the Death Eater. He summoned his opponent's wand and snapped it in half.

Turning back to the battling sea of witches and wizards, he found who he was looking for. Her brown eyes were alight with a crazed fire as she fought a Death Eater. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, admiring her courage and persistence. She ducked and darted out of the path of her opponent's spells as she shot her own at him with a speed that rivaled everyone in the room.

But something wasn't right. Another Death Eater was making its way to where they were dueling; he could tell that she was beginning to tire. Her strength was also slowly starting to fail, and she would not be able to fend off two death eaters by herself.

From across the room, he barreled through the masses to stand by her side. She seemed so far away, so impossible to reach. He pushed and shoved people out of his path; he could see her weakening with every passing second.

Time seemed to stand still when she turned to see him. Blue eyes met brown, but they were not eyes of relief, they were eyes of fear. There was no small smile, no content could be found in her expression. It was fear, complete, total, and encompassing fear. It swallowed him whole, made his blood run cold. It was then that time decided to speed up.

"Ron!"

Her terrified voice shattered the stillness of time. He could feel the heat from her spell as it grazed past his ear. He never lost eye contact with the girl before him, even as the flash of green light erupted from behind her. Green.

Her eyes widened in disbelief and shock. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. Silent. Unmoving. Dead.

Hatred and fury boiled within him, and without thinking he used the curse, the unforgivable curse. He killed him. He killed the Death Eater who had murdered her. He killed him without so much as a thought. The cloaked man crumpled, dead before he touched the ground.

He ran to where the lifeless body was heaped before her killer. She was dead. She had died saving him. He knelt beside her and pulled the limp body into his arms. Rage filled him, but there was no action he could take that would bring her back. Grief washed over him, but tears failed to come. It was as though a deep chasm had opened within him, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake. As he looked into her glassy brown eyes he knew that all hope had been lost. There was no one left to fight for. She was gone, forever.

- - - - -

Ron's eyes snapped open to find a pair of dark brown ones staring at him, filled with deep concern.

"Ron?" the soft voice questioned.

Ooooo cliffhanger! Please review if you have the time! I appreciate any feedback, the good, the bad, the ugly, and especially the frustrated ones who hate cliffhangers:-D