Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I do not own Harry Potter…

A/N: Ah, my first R/Hr fluffy one shot…I'm so excited! I hope you all like, show your love with lots and lots of reviews! Also, in case anyone's interested, the next piece I'm working on is a follow up to "The Perfect Fit". It's coming along nicely, so hopefully I'll get it up during Christmas break. And now, with out further adieu…

Don't Leave Me

A bushy haired girl of fifteen snuggled deeply into the covers of her bed wanting nothing more than to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. It had been a long day, she had arrived at the Burrow mid afternoon, escorted by Mr. Weasley. Everyone had been pleasant and cheerful, but you'd have to be dimmer than Ron to miss the underlying tension in the room.

Harry wasn't here yet, and he wouldn't come for at least another couple weeks, it was just too dangerous. And when he did finally come, it wouldn't be to the Burrow. That would be too dangerous, also. He would have to go to Grimmauld place. Shivers ran down her spine just thinking about the place and all the memories it holds. Memories of Sirius, order meetings, and danger; good food, laughter, and friendship. But mostly, memories of Ron.

'Oh, Ron,' Hermione thought wistfully.

Ron's look of absolute hatred when Mrs. Black called her a mudblood fiend. Ron protecting her (usually unsuccessfully) from the creatures that lurked throughout the house. Ron giving her that god awful perfume for Christmas that he thought was fantastic. Ron leaning in closer and closer, until finally their lips met and—

And so it was that the young witch fell asleep to thoughts of the one person she loved.

……………………………………………

It was dark. So, so, dark. Where was she? There wasn't a ray of light to be seen. Not even the reflection of lights on the sky of a distant city. She must in…a cave? Yes, now that she thought of it, it made sense. She could feel the weight of hundreds of pounds of rock above her, weighing down on her, making her feel incredibly claustrophobic. Fear clutched at her heart, and she felt herself begin to panic. The musty air of the cavern no longer satisfied her lungs and she began to hyperventilate. Her whooping breaths echoed through her rocky prison. And she was completely, utterly, alone.

If there would only be a sign of life somewhere. Preferably human life.

"Hermione…" a distant voice called.

At first the frightened young witch didn't believe her own ears. But then it came again.

"Hermione…"

Throwing away all reservations, she began running in the direction of the voice, sliding over the damp rock beneath her feet. At this point she didn't care if the voice was a ghost, a person, or a talking lizard, she just didn't want to be alone anymore.

She followed the voice deeper and deeper into the cave. The farther she went, the heavier the air became. After what seemed like hours of frantic running, she saw a light. It wasn't the harsh, pointed light of a flashlight, though. It was more of an ethereal glow. As soon as she saw the light, the voice she had been hearing came through with perfect clarity.

"Hermione!" a male voice called. It wasn't a rescuing chant as she had thought, it was a frantic call for help.

"Hermione! Please!"

Ron?

"Ron!" Hermione called, with equal desperation. She began running with renewed haste, tripping over loose stones. "I'm coming, Ron! Hold on!"

Finally, she reached the source of the voice. Before her stood a particularly large cavern, alight with an eerie yellowish blue glow. And there laid Ron in the middle of the floor. His ginger hair was mussed, and his sea blue eyes looked frantic. He seemed to be struggling for breath even more frantically than herself. And then Hermione saw why.

A purplish brain with viscous tentacles was strangling him, draining the life out of him. Tears flowed fro her eyes as she watched the terrible sight. She wept at her inability help the boy she loved. The cleverest with of her year, and what good id it do? She couldn't even save the person dearest to her.

She fell to her knees, pulling out her wand and mumbling random spells to try to get the brain to release Ron. But she knew it was too late, even as she mumbled a last "Expelliarmus." The light was fading from Ron's eyes as he gazed at her, and he whispered, "I love you, Hermio-"

Then he took one last shuddering breath, and what was left of the Ron she knew was gone. Lifeless eyes stared at Hermione under drooped lids.

"No!!!!" Hermione cried hysterically, dashing over to his lifeless form and wrapping her arms around his still warm body. She didn't care about the danger she was in, she just wanted to be as close to him as possible. "No, no no no no…you can't be dead, Ron…I love you too….no no no…Come back, Ron! Come back! Please….no…no…

She was shaking. A harsh, jerky shake. And there was that voice again…

"Hermione! Hermione!"

But she knew better. It oculdn't be Ron. Ron was dead.

"Hermione, wake up!"

She would never be with him again. Never….

…………………………………………………….

Ron shook Hermione roughly, trying to wake her from her painful sleep. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she kept mumbling "No….no…" He was scared. He had never seen her so…vulnerable.

With a strangled cry of "Ron!" Hermione sat up in bed, looking utterly forlorn.

Tentatively, Ron reached out and touched her shoulder, covered only by a thin spaghetti strap. "Are you alright?"

Her wide brown eyes looked around wildly, as if trying to place where she was. In the end, her eyes focused on him with a look of incredibility, as if she didn't believe what she saw.

"Ron…you're…you're…alright…" Another tear rolled down her cheek. Ron wiped it away with his thumb and let his and cup her face for a moment.

"Of course I'm all right," Ron told her gently, moving his hand down her neck to rest once more on her shoulder. He had to remind himself to keep things friendly, because that's what they were. Friends. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

"In my...my dream. And you were…"

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Ron perched on the edge of the bed, but Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"Come on, it might help to talk about it."

"No, I'll figure it out myself," she said in a small yet commanding voice.

Now there's the Hermione he knew. Never needed help from anyone. With a defeated sigh, Ron stood, preparing to leave her to "figure it out herself". He wondered at the disappointment that filled his heart at not being able to comfort her. He also told the little voice in his head that was screaming, "Don't go! Stay! Warning! Red alert!" to shut up. She obviously didn't want him. As he neared the door, Hermione spoke again, with a sharp note in her voice. An arguing note.

"So you're just going to leave?"

Exasperated, Ron answered her. "Isn't that just what you told me to do?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood too, so as to be on the same level as him. Well, sort of anyway. At fifteen, Ron stood at a towering 5'11, and Hermione was a mere 5'4. Although he supposed if you counted her hair she'd be a firm 5'5…

"No," Hermione snapped, drawing back Ron's attention. "I said I would figure it out myself. Not that you had to leave!"

"It's the same thing!"

"No, it isn't! It didn't mean I wasn't still scared! Or that I wanted to be alone! I just didn't want to share!"

"Well then maybe you should have said that!" He stepped closer to Hermione, as if trying to make sure she got his point.

"Well maybe if you weren't so think you'd know that's what I meant!" Hermione retorted, stepping closer still.

"I AM NOT THICK!"

"I BEG TO DIFFER!"

There was but a few inches separating them by now, and their eyes were locked on each other in an icy glare.

It didn't seem like either of them were going to back down, and Ron opened his mouth to speak once more.

"Hermione, I-" Ron leaned in, unsure of what he was doing. His mind kept telling him to keep arguing, keep mouthing off, but his heart was telling him to use his mouth for other things…

In the end, his heart won out. Before h realized what he was doing, his lips were on hers. It was awkward at first. Ron had no idea what he was doing. He had never kissed a girl like this before, and Hermione seemed to be equally puzzled.

Just as Ron was thinking that this was the most horrid idea he had ever had in his life, it changed. Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing them even closer. Her feminine softness felt perfect against his sharp planes and lines. Their lips moved in perfect rhythm, and Ron was exhilarated. He moved forward until Hermione's legs hit the bed and they laid down as one, somehow never breaking contact.

Ron deepened the kiss as Hermione played with the little hairs on the back of his neck. Her hands on him sent delightful shivers down his spine. And to…other places…

After what seemed like hours (and it very well might have been…) the amorous pair pulled apart.

Flushed and exhilarated, the couple relaxed against each other. Hermione's head rested on Ron's arm, and Ron slowly stroked Hermione's soft curls.

"Hermione," Ron spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb their newfound peace. "This may sound stupid, but was this you're first kiss?"

Hermione sat up, alarmed. "Why?! Was it bad?! It not exactly something you can study for, but maybe I should have checked a book—"

"No," Ron said, placing a finger on her lips. "It was perfect."

When Hermione smiled Ron traced the curve of her upper lip. As Ron reached the corner of her mouth, her smile faltered and her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong, love?" Ron asked, concerned he'd done something wrong.

"Nothing…It's just that—and you don't have to say anything back, but…" Hermione took a deep, cleansing breath, trying to regain her composure. "Well Ronald, it's like this. I love you."

A shocked look overtook Ron's face, and Hermione looked adamantly at the foot of the bed. She quickly tried to rectify the situation.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just wanted to let you know. I understand you might not feel the same way and—"

"I love you too, 'Mione," Ron murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I have for a long time.

"Well, then," Hermione said, an unusually wicked glint in her eye. "It seems to me we have a lot of time to make up for…"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. I nearly cried while writing it, so please read and review and tell me if it was at least worth tearing up over!