A/N: Well, the movie inspired me to keep writing! What did you all think?

Chapter 7

Harry stared at Ron's injuries with such concentration it was as though he thought he could heal them with his mind. But then.. slowly, the wounds stared to heal. At first he thought it was in his head, but then after a bit longer he became sure they were closing.

"It's working, Hermione!" Harry yelped.

She continued for a few more seconds, the wounds seemed to reach a point where they wouldn't heal up more, but they had at least stopped bleeding.

She stopped chanting and looked down as Ron stirred slightly.

…

Ron could feel that he was now lying down. "That's weird. Wasn't I sitting on a chair?" he thought to himself. He couldn't piece it together. His head was elevate slightly and resting on something soft. Maybe a pillow? But no it was different than that. It reminded him of when he was little and he would lay on the grass with his mother, sometimes with his head in her lap, looking at the sun. There was a hand holding his too. That was strange, maybe it was Kreacher? But it felt human, not elf. He couldn't imagine that many of the death eaters would hold his hand as he died.

But was he dying? He felt better. Not at all well, but not as though he was going die at any second.

"Come on Ron, please wake up." A sad voice broke into his stream of consciousness. A female voice. He knew that voice. It was so familiar, and he wanted to wake up for her, he wanted to do anything that would make her voice sound less sad.

Ron struggled to open his eyes and found himself staring into the tearful brown eyes of Hermione Granger.

Hermione gasped when his eyes fluttered open. She was so terrified she would never see the brilliant blue of his eyes ever again. He looked at her, then around the tent and his eyes landed on Harry. That was when he spoke for the first time.

"Am I dead?" He whispered. It was the only way he could possibly be back with them.

Harry let out a nervous laughter. Hermione didn't trust herself to speak.

"No, mate. No. You are alive." Harry finally said, tightening his grasp on Ron's hand.

Ron now realized his head was in Hermione's lap. Harry was by his side, gripping his hand. Hermione was staring at him like she had never quite seen anything like him before. It made Ron uneasy. She must have been mad. Mad at him for leaving; mad at him for getting himself into trouble. Did they have to come rescue him? He didn't even know how he got back to the tent. The last thing he remembered was her voice coming out of his pocket.

"I'm so sorry. I was such an idiot." He whispered. He wanted to make things right with both of them, but right now he felt took weak to stand up, let alone give them any sort of real apology.

There was silence still from Hermione. She still just didn't trust herself to speak. She was afraid he would disappear from her lap at any second. She was so transfixed by him, so amazed that he was living and breathing in front of her when she was so sure, so positive, that he was dead. When the chair appeared with his body, lying limp and bloody, she felt as though a part of her had died. That part was slowly returning to her.

"I wanted to come back as soon as I disapparated." Ron started.

"Shhh….It's alright mate." Harry said, now somewhere between laughing and crying. "You should rest. Your safe and you should rest."

Ron smiled at him. Now, safe with the people he loved, he did feel immensely exhausted. Just as he started to close his eyes, content to sleep with his head in Hermione's lap, when he remembered something and jolted awake.

"MY WAND" he cried, "they have my wand!" He was horrified. The wand was his only weapon in this fight. He had never felt more vulnerable.

"Kreacher stole it back from the big man" Kreacher said, hobbling over towards the group and presenting Ron's wand to him. He was speaking for the first time since explaining what had happened to Ron.

"Kreacher, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you" Ron said, tears now streaming down his face. He owed Kreacher so much now. While he always cared for Dobby, it had always been Harry who felt connected with the house elf. It was Ron, who now felt as if he owed Kreacher new socks for every day of the year.

"How did you…" Harry began to ask, either Kreacher or Ron what had happened. There were so many questions to answer. How were they able to apparate inside the tent? How did Kreacher even know where they were?

"No" Hermione interrupted. Speaking for the first time since Ron opened his eyes. "Ron needs rest, we will find out everything we need to know in the morning." Her voice sounded monotone and detached. Ron looked up at her, head still resting on her lap, and found her brown eyes lacking the warmth he was so used to.

"Her…" Ron started, but Hermione interrupted again.

With a silent spell, she lifted him up off the grown and floated him over to his bunk. She then grabbed the blankets that Harry had given her earlier, and threw them over him. Ron and Harry looked at each other bewildered. Harry simply shrugged and smiled at Ron, glad to have him back.

"Would masters like some tea?" Kreacher asked reminding them all he was still there.

"No thank you Kreacher, but why don't you sleep on this bunk tonight. We will talk more in the morning" Harry said, pointing to a spare bunk that was available. Harry realized that they must figure out what to do with Kreacher. He couldn't really accompany them on the hunt, but they couldn't send him back to Grimmauld place either. Kreacher bowed and retired too his bed.

"Hermione" Ron whispered, trying to get her attention. She was now tidying up the tent, as if nothing unusual had happened. Frustrated, Ron tried to sit up, but found that the pain to his chest, from the initial spell that Runcorn hit him with, was still present and aggravated on the movement. Fading, but present. He moaned and gripped his chest. That caught Hermione's attention.

"What's hurting you?" She asked, her voice soft, and she returned once more to Ron's side.

"It's nothing" he shrugged, waiting for the pain to pass. "Sit with me?" He asked, looking up at her.

How could she not? His eyes were half open; he was clearly exhausted from his ordeal and probably from the blood loss. He was fighting to keep them open just to talk to her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione"

"You need to get some rest, Ron"

Ron wanted to keep her talking, to make sure she was not mad at him, but he was loosing strength. He was so tired, he could barely think straight, let alone have a heart to heart with her.

"It was always you too" He whispered, falling asleep before his words could even sink in.

"Oh, Ron" Hermione sighed. Now that he had fallen asleep, she took a minute to look him over. He was paler than she had ever seen him. Thinner too. She knew they were all looking thin and run down, but Ron definitely was looking sickly.

She tried to think about his health. He lost a lot of blood that much was certain. They still had very little, if any, food in the tent.

Suddenly Hermione started shaking violently. The adrenaline that just helped her save Ron's life was suddenly gone. She was going to be sick. She left Ron's side and ran out of the tent, becoming ill on a nearby tree.

Harry ran after her. Noticing she was sick, he gently rubbed her back and spoke soothingly. "He's ok Hermione. You did it. He's safe." He repeated this mantra, as Hermione tried to calm her nerves and figure out what they should do next.

A/N: Please read and review! I'll wrap this story up at some point were it will meet back up with the book! But I really hope you like it.