A/N: I opened document in order to type up my thousand word paper on dirt (who assigns a one thousand word essay on dirt?). Although it's due tomorrow, inspiration struck and… well, it'll just have to wait for a bit!

She was dozing. He could tell by the way she held her wand slightly below the ready position and the angles that her curly hair hid her face from view that she was having a hard time staying awake.

Funny, he thought, because I can't sleep.

And so, with one last glance to the right to make sure that Harry Potter was still sound asleep in his bunk, Ron Weasley got up off the floor of the tent, where he'd been staring intently at the locket that had been making him think such terrible things. If they could see inside his mind, surely it'd be considering treason just thinking what he did about Harry. But he couldn't stop himself.

Every time he put on the locket, it was as if the entire world was taunting him. Everyone put Harry on a pedestal. All of their teachers, his own family, even complete strangers.

Even Hermione, he thought as he swung the locket around his neck.

He thought of them, how she'd fussed over him today when he'd dreamt again last night. Her touch had been so gentle as she brushed it lightly across his arm, trying to get him to look at her.

I'm the one who should be getting her attention, Ron thought darkly. I'm the one whose bloody arm is mangled. I'm the one who wakes up in pain every damn night. But I'm nothing next to Harry "The Chosen One" Potter. It's obvious how she fancies him. And he doesn't deserve her. He gets short with her and yells and even when she's only worried and trying to protect him he shrugs her off and won't even talk to her. Hermione's only worried. She only wants to make him happy. Because she loves him.

Ron gritted his teeth and took a deep, steadying breath. He pulled the locket over his head.

And then… everything was better. Those insecurities were pushed to the back of his mind and locked up. His anger melted away as if it had never been there in the first place. He was smiling when he ducked out of the tent where Hermione was having trouble standing watch.

It was cold and her skin was flushed and, as he grew nearer, he could see her breath. Her eyes weren't completely closed (he could swear he saw a sliver of the brown irises) but they were so close together her eyelashes dragged against her cheekbones. He nudged her and she jerked awake, point her wand into his face. She put a hand to her heart when she realized who it was and he only grinned at her, knowing better than to laugh.

"Oh, it's only you," Hermione said, lowering her wand. He took a seat next to her and huddled closer in his coat for warmth.

"Good to know how appreciated I am," he mutter sarcastically, although somewhere deep down it had hurt him. She rolled her eyes, though doubted he saw it.

"You know what I mean. Just be happy that I realized it was you before I hexed you from here to the Burrow," she muttered, sleep still thick in her voice and she stifled a yawn behind her hand, but Ron didn't notice. He was now thinking of the Burrow.

"D'you think… D'you think that they're all okay? I know Percy is, the prat, but… the others? Mum? Dad?" He paused, gulping. "Ginny?"

"I'm sure they're fine. Harry would tell us if anything happened to her. She's at Hogwarts. He thinks we don't notice him staring at that map." Hermione laughed and put her head on his shoulder. Ron put an arm around her, bringing her closer. Times like this he never doubted what they had. He was sure that what he felt between them was real. These weren't friendly touches that they shared and, while they weren't stolen kisses beneath the stars, he knew that they were something much more than that.

"I'm worried about him," she whispered in a tone of voice that said this was not to be repeated. "He's having them again. The visions. He's letting You-Know-Who in again. It has to stop it-it's too dangerous." Hermione turned her head and looked out into the snow covered forest, biting her lip, her forehead creased.

There it was. Her affection for Harry had come out again. That's all she ever thought about, or cared about. Ron didn't know why he ever deluded himself into thinking it was he that Hermione wanted. He frowned.

"Harry can take care of himself," he muttered grumpily. Everyone babied Harry. Dumbledore, Hermione, even his own mother, for Merlin's sake. And he was tired of it. No one held his hand when things got tough. So why should Harry be treated that way?

As if sensing his bad mood, Hermione turned her head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ron, please, tell me what's wrong." Hermione put her hand over his and he looked up. She was unleashing the full force of her eyes on him. She looked concerned and he could see the worry behind her gaze, evident in her soft brown eyes. He swallowed and looked quickly away, but turned over his hand and laced his fingers with hers.

"I feel like we're going in circles. We can't seem to get anything done. We can't even destroy this bloody thing." He pulled the locket from his pocket and threw it into the snow. Hermione didn't fetch it, instead snuggled closer into Ron. She lay her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head beneath his chin. They sat like this for a long time, silent except for their breathing.

"D'you think he knows what the hell he's doing? From what he's said, he doesn't seem to have much to go on." Ron's breath was warm against the top of her head and her hands lay on his stomach, expanding with every word he said. Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"He's doing the best he can under the circumstances." Ron could feel her lips moving against the base of his throat as she spoke. He held her to him tightly, hoping that if he could get close enough to her, everything would disappear. She let out a shaky breath and he brushed some hair away from her face.

"Why do you defend him?" Ron asked moodily. She looked up, eyebrows furrowed with an unreadable expression.

"Harry's our best friend, Ron. We have to trust him if we want to finish anything. If we start fighting amongst ourselves now he'll beat us. We can't do this alone," Hermione whispering, looking him in the eyes. He could feel her breath on his face and he reached up and tucked some of her wild hair behind her ears.

Slowly, they both moved in a little. His arms were still wrapped around her, one against the back of her shoulder blades, the other on the small of her back. One of her hands lay limply against his chest. She moved the other slowly up his body to the back of his neck. They pulled each other closer and just as he was beginning to feel the prickle of her warm breath on his lips, the tent opened and Harry stood there. Abruptly, they broke apart.

"It's my watch. You can go to sleep now, Hermione."

"H-Harry," Hermione stuttered, reaching over and picking up the blanket she'd been wrapped in, which had fallen to the ground when Ron released her. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled shakily. Harry looked between the two of them, but said nothing.

"Right, well, I'm off to bed then. Goodnight." She kissed Ron on the cheek and then repeated the same action on Harry. Ron had felt his entire face turn red when she left and muttered some incomprehensible excuse about his arm hurting. He followed after Hermione.

"I'll take the locket, mate," Harry called from behind him. Ron turned around and walked past him to where he and Hermione had been sitting, reach down in the snow, then tossed the nearly-frozen locket at Harry. He caught it and raised an eyebrow. Ron shrugged.

"Maybe whatever the hell's in there is frozen."

He went back in the tent and saw Hermione sitting on the ground, leaning against the bed. She looked up at his entrance, her eyes wide. She looked as if she'd been in the middle of crying. He smiled a little at her and sat down so that their sides were touching.

"It unnerving isn't it? All the waiting." Hee voice trembled and he nodded, putting his arm around her shoulders again and drawing her closer. She rested her forehead against his neck and let a few tears fall. He said nothing, but let her cry in silence, holding her close and letting her know that he was listening.

"I'm here, Hermione," Ron whispered against her hair, but she never heard him, because she had fallen asleep. That night, she had no nightmares. Instead, she dreamt of warm arms that held her close and kept her safe from harm.

A/N: I always did wonder the conversations that Ron and Hermione had when they were on the run. When Ron left in DH, he said that Hermione had said she was "disappointed and thought Harry had a bit more to go on". Of course, we all know Hermione would never say something like that, but I thought that Ron might misconstrue some of the things she said and so, here's my take on it!

Also, I've been so trilled with the popularity of my one-shot The Heat of the Moment! It's been favorited twenty-two times and I only just posted it yesterday! I'm completely shocked!

Reviews, PMs, and reccomendations are lovely, but just reading this is completely wonderful of you! Thanks for any time you spend on me!

Love, Cass