Hermione ran. She ran as fast and hard as she ever had, down the gleaming white hallway, with the shiny white floor. She closed her eyes briefly, head pounding. Why was it so damn white? It hurt her eyes, and her head, besides, she was feeling incredibly dark right now, and felt the world should match.

She saw a speck of blue, and stopped running. She crouched down, winded, hands on her knees, breathing hard.

"Healer Jones!" she called, in as loud a voice as she could muster, which was quite soft at the moment. She looked up at the Healer, face set determinedly.

"Ms. Granger." he greeted her solemnly. Hermione knew something was off by his tone of voice.

"No." she whispered.

"I - I regret to inform you, but - "

"NO!" she interrupted him, louder this time, and the sound echoed through the white hallway, straightening up and leaning against the white wall, covering her eyes with her hand.

"Mr. Weasley is dead." the Healer finished.

Hermione slapped him, hard. It wasn't something she would normally do, but this incompetent, useless man was worth it.

She screamed and crumpled onto the floor: it could not be true, it was simply untrue, not her Ron. Her Ron was smart, brave, kind, and funny, and young - oh, so young! She couldn't process anything in her head anymore, it was simply too much to bear and she kept sobbing until she felt a small hand shake her shoulder. She shook it off, no one could help her at this time.

Aunty! Aunty Mione! A distant voice called, a high voice, a child's voice.

Hermione suddenly jerked awake, looking dazedly around, until she saw a small child standing infront of her. Her whole body was drenched in sweat, but she felt frozen.

Teddy Lupin stood in front of her, one hand placed on her shoulder.

"Aunty Mione, are you okay? You were screaming." he told her matter-of-factly.

"Yes - yes Teddy, I'm fine." she lied, and gave him a one-armed quick hug. He was so sweet, she thought, and caring, just like his parents.

"If you're worried about Uncle Ron, don't be." Teddy told her, although, she couldn't help noticing, he didn't sound too convinced. Hermione smiled a watery smile, she knew Ron and Teddy were close.

"Uncle Ron, he's really brave, he would tell me all of these stories, you were in some of them too, and he's almost like a superhero, so he'll be okay. Don't worry" Teddy smiled at her.

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh. Oh, to be a child, and to be so carefree.

"Thank you, Teddy. I'll remember that." She patted his cheek. "Now, go back to bed."

"Goodnight, Aunty!" he said, and left the room.

Hermione burst into tears.

Breakfast was a quiet affair at the Burrow that morning. Hermione and the rest would all be going to St. Mungo's today, and the tension and worry hung in the air, pressing down on each human being in the Burrow. There was a hard knot in Hermione's stomach, and after the nightmare, she hadn't been able to sleep. She looked like she had seen a ghost, with dark circles under her eyes, and a pale face.

Mrs. Weasley's waffles, which were usually delicious, had turned out soggy and lumpy, and she moved about like a ghost. Bill was unnaturally also looked dejected, and James kept crying. Harry, unlike Ron, had turned out to be okay, but he hadn't shown up at the Burrow yet. The rest of the Weasleys seemed scatterbrained, and Hermione knew, although some didn't show it, scared. George seemed pale, Hermione knew he was close with Ron.

Suddenly, there was a crack, and together, everyone cried out, "Harry!" Ginny ran up and hugged her husband, who looked physically unscathed, except for a few scars, but who knows what had happened. Hermione smiled at Harry, who after saying hello to everyone, came and sat down beside her.

"How are you?" he asked her, as Mrs. Weasley set down a plate in front of him.

"Thanks." he nodded at her, while waiting for Hermione's response.

"Alive." she replied, making fleeting eye contact.

He clutched her arm. "Hermione, you know him better than I do. You know how strong he is, and you know he'll be okay."

Hermione nodded. "I'm glad you're okay, Harry." she said, hugging him, and she really was. She just wished that Ron was okay too. Ron. Everytime she thought of him, the knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she involuntarily replayed all the happy memories they had created together. She didn't want to go to St. Mungo's today, but she knew she had to face the truth.

Mr. Weasley, sitting at the head of the table, cleared his throat, and Hermione willed herself not to cry, though the lump in her throat was ever-prominent, as he began to speak.

"We know that - that Ron - " he began, but was interrupted by a small and soft voice.

"Uncle Won?" Victoire, who was sitting in her mother's lap, perked up. Hermione's heart, which already felt like it had been stabbed and shattered, broke even further. Ron and Victoire had always shared a special relationship, her being his first niece. Victoire looked at all the faces from her mother's lap, and her cute and happy face seemed to deflate.

"Where Uncle Won, Gwandpa?" she asked Arthur, who looked apprehensive.

"Er - yes. Ron has been admitted to St. Mungo's and we know that - that whatever the circumstances," his voice broke, "we shall stay strong as a family." he finished.

"Uncle Won." Victoire stated. In French, Fleur gently told her daughter than Uncle Ron was in the hospital. and the little girl burst into tears. Hermione took a deep breath, what Victoire was doing was exactly what she herself wanted to do. She felt Harry's comforting hand on her shoulder. After an awkward silence, where no one seemed to know what to say, Mrs. Weasley waved her wand and the plates began to stack themselves in a neat pile.

"Right, we will meet in the sitting room at 4 pm." she told them, too cheerfully. Everyone stood up and left, except for Hermione and Fleur and Victoire (who was still crying).

"Shhh, shhh, ma belle, your uncle will be fine," she consoled her daughter.

"Yes." Hermione, surprising herself, spoke up. "Uncle Ron is smart, brave, and strong, he'll be just fine." She knew she was also trying to reassure herself, as well as the little girl. Hermione sighed and pushed back the wooden chair, which squeaked on the floor. Victoire contemplated Hermione's words, mumbled, "oui, he'll be fine," and ran off. Fleur, however, made her way to Hermione, who, despite her best efforts, had sunk down into her chair. Her breath came in shaky sighs, her head held in her hands and a look of pure concern on her face.

"'Ermione -" Fleur began.

"Fleur, what if he's not okay? What if he... if he suffered serious damage or... or he dies... or he's paralyzed... oh God..." She trailed off.

She had never felt this way in her life before. Of course, the time when she'd had to erase her parents memories came close, and all the times she'd nearly lost Harry. But this... this went to a new level - she had never felt so worried and nervous in her life. She guessed - no, she knew - it was because her love for Ron was so strong, precious, and close to her heart. She had never treasured or loved anyone as much as him, and never would (although, she reminded herself, she wasn't a mother yet). Hermione folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. She heard Fleur sit on the chair beside her, and felt her pat her back gently.

"'Ermione, you worry too much." A shock ran through Hermione as she remembered Ron speaking those words too her.

"Ron will be fine. We both know 'ow strong and brave 'e is." Hermione gave a slight nod, everyone kept telling her this, but the words weren't comforting.

"Look, I know 'ow you feel." said Fleur. Hermione felt like screaming at her. How could Fleur know what kind of hell she was going through?

"When Bill... when 'e was bitten, I remember being just like you are now..." Fleur said softly.

Hermione instantly softened : Fleur did know how this felt, she had gone through something similar herself.

"You will pull through, 'Ermione, you are a very strong girl."

Hermione looked up and gave Fleur a watery smile.

"And 'e will too, you know." Fleur said knowingly. "Ron will make it. You know 'ow I know?" Hermione shook her head.

"When you came to Shell Cottage, some years ago, I saw the love in 'is eyes for you. Yes, don't look so startled. His eyes, those beautiful Weasley eyes, they were filled with nothing but love and compassion for you, 'Ermione. And if 'e truly loves you, 'e will pull through, because 'e will think of you, and all the love 'e feels in his heart, and 'e will make it."

Hermione was incredibly touched by Fleur's words, and she gave her a hug, which Fleur happily returned. She felt stronger now, more reassured. "Thank you, Fleur." she whispered.

"Of course, darling." replied Fleur, who was wiping away a tear.

Hermione remembered the look in Ron's eyes, and felt stronger.

Hermione found herself again in Ron's room. Right now, she felt too emotionally drained to do anything, or go anywhere. She settled down on his bed, which creaked ever so slightly. She imagined a toddler Ron, sleeping here soundly, clutching a small teddy bear, mouth open. She imagined a slightly older, Hogwarts age Ron, his ginger hair splayed out across the pillow. Speaking of that, Hermione pulled out the diary, which she had taken with her.

November 3rd, 1991.

There is a new, slightly annoying, yet useful person, at Hogwarts, who has joined me and Harry.

Hermione scoffed. Useful?

Actually, it's quite a wicked story. There was a troll - yes, a bloody (the book growled) troll in the dungeons! And me and Harry, we saved Hermione from the dungeons, it was awesome (but also slightly scary)! The way she looked at me afterwards, all grateful and eyes shining, made me feel really special, you know? As if I was Ron, just Ron, not Harry's friend, or the Weasley's youngest boy. I was Ron, just Ron, and she actually liked me for it. And then, you know what she did? Hermione, who up until now (and she still is), was bratty and stuck-up, actually LIED to a teacher to save Harry and I's necks. McGonnogal, none the less! I was so surprised. And he we gained some points to Gryffindor, too! Although, I've been hiding one part... I insulted her, called her a nightmare. I felt terrible. First of all, she's a girl, and Mum and Dad taught me to respect girls, not to insult them. And, I made her CRY. I felt so guilty! But I suppose all's forgiven, now. Who knows, we might get on well, this Hermione Granger and I?

Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling throughout this entry. She loved Ron so, so much. Infact, once he had told her, last month, she was not in fact a nightmare, but his most beautiful dream come true. She smiled at that memory. A drop of water fell on to the open diary, and she looked up at the ceiling, before realizing tears were flowing down her cheeks. She gave a shaky laugh, wiped her eyes, and closed the book. she and Ron had been through so much together, from the troll, to the trapdoor, to her being petrified, to his burping up slugs for her, to their fight in third year, to watching Harry participate in the Triwizard Tournament, to fighting Death Eaters at the Ministry, to Dumbledore's funeral, to hunting Horcruxes, and to the proposal, and everything before, after, and in between that. After all they had shared, Hermione needed Ron : her rock, her protector, and her best friend. And if she lost that, she didn't know how she would survive.

French to English translations:

ma belle - beautiful

oui - yes

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all have an amazing 2012.

Thanks, as always, for your lovely reviews. They are a great drive and motivation. Having said that, I would like to know what you thought of this chapter, please! They really help me make the story better.