There she was, pale, lying on the floor, covered in blood.

He couldn't see her chest moving.

Panic gripped him. She's not breathing.

He tried to move, he tried to get to her, but his feet were firmly stuck in the ground. He stuck out his arm, desperately trying to get there, to reach her, but he couldn't. He called her name, and struggled against the invisible ropes holding him in place.

Finally, with a huge amount of effort, he broke free of whatever was keeping him there. He was at her side in a second.

He shook her, calling her name over and over between his sobs, and trying to get her to wake up. But it was useless, she wouldn't move.

He rolled her over, to see her face, and immediately wished he hadn't.

Her eyes were no longer their usual bright, flaming brown. Now they were a glassy, opaque, and empty, gazing unblinkingly at the place right next to his head.

He had to fight the urge to vomit.

He called her name, and kept shaking her, now unintelligible over his raking sobs.

"Hermione! Hermione, no! Please Hermione! Come back! Wake up! Wake up!"

Ron Weasley shot up in his chair, wide awake, tears flowing freely down his face. He looked wildly around the room, panic filling his chest as he remembered her frozen and dead body. Ron saw Hermione lying in a small bed right next to him, her chest rising and falling evenly, and immediately relaxed.

He wiped the tears off his face as he tried to forget the dream.

Ron looked around Hermione's small bedroom at Shell Cottage, and took a few deep breaths. It was the same room he had stayed in when he was here over Christmas, and he took solace in the familiar décor and pictures framed around the room. This room hadn't changed a bit, and Ron was extremely grateful for that.

He stood up from his chair, and went to the side of Hermione's bed. He stood there for a few seconds, just watching her, marveling at her beauty even now. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. Ron thought fondly, gazing at Hermione's slightly stirring figure.

He shuddered when he remembered how she was just hours previously.

Ron landed with a thud on a cold, gray beach. The first thought he had was Hermione in his arms, and how unnaturally still she was. Ron didn't waste any time. He stood, holding Hermione in his arms bridal style, and ran up the beach to his brother's house.

Bill Weasley was standing in the doorway, looking anxious, obviously waiting for them. When he caught sight of his youngest brother, with the unconscious girl in his arm, he sprinted out to meet them. He tried to help Ron with Hermione, but Ron flatly refused to let her out of his grip.

Instead, Bill rushed inside, yelling for Fleur. When Ron stumbled in the house, Fleur was standing in the family room, looking very confused.

One look at Hermione, and her gaze hardened. "Ron, take her into ze room you stayed in when you were here. I shall be up in a minute."

Ron nodded, and rushed Hermione up the stairs.

He lowered her gently onto the bed, and his first though was how pale she was. The second was how much blood was on her clothes. She had scratches all over her body from the chandelier falling on her, and one thin slit on her neck where Bellatrix's knife had cut her.

Ron clenched his fists, feeling utterly useless.

He stroked her hair, trying to comfort himself as much as her. "Please Hermione, you have to be okay. You have to be okay." He whispered, eyes full of tears.

Fleur bustled into the room, and surveyed Hermione with a sharp eye.

"What 'as 'appened to her?"

Ron just shook his head dumbly, before saying, "Tortured…chandelier…knife…"

Fleur did not need Ron to clarify. She had begun working the second he had finished saying "tortured".

Fleur started removing Hermione's clothes, trying to assess her cuts better. Ron just watched dumbly, transfixed by Hermione's gray skin.

He did not even realize she was in her underwear in front of him, but when he did, he felt sick.

"How many times have I thought about this moment? Finally seeing Hermione in her underwear. It doesn't feel like I thought it would, like it should." Ron thought bitterly.

Fleur was waving her wand over Hermione's cuts, muttering under her breath. Ron watched as Hermione's cuts and scrapes mended themselves before his eyes. But she looked as gray as ever.

"I cannot zay how long she will be unconscious, I cannot cure a tortured mind. All we can do iz wait and 'ope for ze best."

Ron nodded, kneeling next to Hermione and taking her cold hand in his. Fleur drew the blankets over Hermione's scantily clad body, and backed from the room.

"You have to be okay, Hermione. You have to come back. I love you, you have to come back."

Ron Weasley had never been so scared in his life.

Ron remembered how much fear had been clutching his heart when he was kneeling next to Hermione, begging both silently and out loud for her to wake up. He had refused to leave her alone until she woke up, which she did finally.

After Ron had embraced her and cried into her shoulder, she had assured him she was fine, and Ron had gone to get Fleur before joining Harry in the garden to dig Dobby's grave.

He hadn't told Hermione about Dobby yet. He didn't think he could make her hurt anymore.

Ron kneeled next to her bed again, once again studying her sleeping form, reassuring that she was alive and breathing.

Ron felt such relief wash over him, he had stop himself from laughing.

He had almost lost her tonight. She had almost died, and he had almost lost himself.

Ron knew without a doubt, that if Hermione had died, he would not have survived it.

He took her hand in his, and brought their entwined hands up to his forehead.

"Ron?" Hermione asked sleepily.

Ron's head shot up, and he looked fearfully in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to see you were okay."

"I'm fine Ron. But what about you? You look terrible."

He grinned. "Well thanks."

"Oh you know what I mean! You look exhausted. Have you even eaten since we got here?"

He shook his head. "I've been too worried about you, I couldn't eat."

"Ron Weasley unable to eat? I don't believe it."

"Well believe it, 'Mione. I can't bring myself to leave. I can't fall asleep. Every time I close my eyes I see you on the ground, dead, and cold."

"Ron, please, don't talk like that."

"I almost lost you, Hermione. I almost lost you today."

"But you didn't! And that's what matters. You didn't lose me, I'm here, with you now, so please, just try and remember that."

He smiled sadly at her, and nodded his head.

"You look freezing, Ron. Why don't you go to bed?"

"I'm not going to bed down there and leaving you up here."

Hermione sighed exasperatedly, in much the same way she would if he had not done his homework. "Oh honestly." And she started to shift over in the bed.

Ron leapt to his feet, trying to stop her. "What are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes, and lifted the cover of her bed.

Ron merely looked at her, his face a mask of confusion.

"Well get in, Ron. You'll freeze out there, and if you insist on staying here, you might as well be comfortable."

"I'm not doing that, Hermione. You need your sleep, and…"

"If you don't get in this bed right now, Ronald Weasley, I will not sleep for the rest of the night."

Ron gulped and slowly slid into the small bed next to her. She curled into his side, and a huge grin spread over Ron's face.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Don't look so happy over this."

"How did you…?" Hermione hadn't even been looking at him when he had smiled.

"Oh please, Ronald. I'm your best friend. I know you as well as I know myself. I know you were smiling and grinning like an idiot."

Ron laughed, and drew Hermione closer to him.

"I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot."

Hermione smiled into his chest. "That you are."

And Ron went to sleep, warm and happy. He forgot, for the time being, about Malfoy Manor, and Hermione's torture. Having her so solidly alive and clinging to him was enough to banish his worst nightmares to the back of his mind.

And for the time being, Ron's mind was blissfully empty.