Set in HBP after Ron has been poisoned. Harry and Hermione stay a little after-hours to watch over him. Only warning; angst. Muchly angst.

Read on.

Just Fine

When she whispers your name, her voice is broken. It sounds raspy and sad and it rings in your ears with a feeling of terror that settles within your chest.

Your eyes draw upward and stop on her. Even as she sits in the dark hospital wing, breathing in more and more despair, she is still the vision of absolute beauty. She's perfect even as her eyes fill with tears again and her face gives away each emotion she's feeling. You want to tell her that, how one look at her sends you spinning, but you don't because her eyes are bloodshot and she hasn't been crying over you.

"Yeah?" All you really want is to look away or leave, but leaving her alone with him would be a bad idea.

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

The question catches you off guard because you do want him to be okay, but, at the same time, you have no idea if he will ever be again. Maybe this will be the jinx that cracks the wand—maybe he'll never fully recover.

You look down at this thought and run your eyes over his blank expression, the ragged in and out of his chest and the slight twitch of his eyelids. This is your best friend, the one who's been there for you through it all. Your naïve, loyal, brave, sometimes completely bonkers best friend and without him, you think you'll have no real purpose.

Your eyes turn back up and look at her again and she's staring at you, waiting for an answer you can't give her. You shake your head and try not to look lost, though you think you must be failing at that. "I don't know," you admit, letting the words linger just past your lips. "I just don't know."

She loses it then, loses whatever had been holding her together—you think it must not have been much—and her eyes betray her, showing all of the anguish inside. Her sobs are muffled by her hands and you're torn between wanting to comfort her and leave.

She's never lost it over you, and how many times have you been near death? More than Ron has. But, at the same time, she's not in love with you. No. You're scary, messy, well-hidden love for her is one-sided. You know this. You've always known.

But still…she needs comfort. Mostly because, before now, there'd always been hope. There'd always been a sliver of a chance that you'd all survive. But this is Ron. This is the common ground you two share and he's lying in a hospital bed, injured and ill. So that hope has flitted away and you're not sure where to begin the search for it.

So you stand up then and reach across the bed—across Ron—and help her to her feet. She looks at you, confused, but you don't offer an explanation. You just lean across the bed, cupping her face gently, and kiss her.

She doesn't pull away, she even kisses you back slightly, but you can't help but think how fitting this all has become. It's terribly fitting to be kissing her in the darkened hospital wing with Ron lying between the pair of you. So fitting, in fact, that when she finally pulls away, you mumble, "Sorry," instead of kissing her again.

When she sits back down, she only has eyes for him and that bothers you more than you'd like. But, even so, she looks at you after a few minutes and gives you a small smile.

"He'll be fine," she decides aloud. "He'll be just fine."

And she reaches across the bed then and grabs you hand, lacing your fingers together. Which makes you think; if he'll be fine, maybe you will be too.

No idea where this came from. Ugh. I think I'm rife with wizard angst today.