The scene in front of Hermione twisted in a violent blur of motion. Apparating was normally something she did with her eyes tightly shut, but now she forced them open, desperate to catch the last glimpses of her childhood home around her. All too soon that too was captured in the brutal tornado that tugged behind her belly button. The tears that were escaping were thrown forcefully from her face as her body was transported through space. Finally, Hermione clenched her eyes closed and brought a single vision into her mind, the burrow. And just as soon as she thought it, there it was, nestled in the familiar grounds in front of a dazzling sunset.

The sight of it exuded comfort to Hermione, when only a moment before she had been sure the world no longer held any. She took a step toward the house but a thought stopped her in her tracks. Was she being selfish? She was able to enjoy a familiar house and a loving family while, because of her, her parents wouldn't recognize their own lives. There must have been another way. Did she overlook an alternate opportunity? For a single, desperate moment, Hermione decided to return to them and reverse the spell. She turned her back toward her best friend's house, her lips quivering as she took in the sight before her. Behind the burrow was a massive stretch of humming nature and dimming sky. Hermione felt small beneath it. Unsure and ashamed, she sank into the cool grass and buried her face in her hands.

She was unsure of how long she sat there but no other sensation came to her until his smiling face flashed into her mind's eye. He would be just inside, unaware of her presence. He would know how to make her feel better, an ability he was unaware of possessing.

Hermione hoisted herself from the lawn and quietly entered the kitchen. At the sight of her, Mrs. Weasley set down her knitting and gathered Hermione in her arms. "Everything go all right dear?" Hermione nodded. Mrs. Weasley pulled back and asked tenderly, "Are you alright?"

"I'll manage." She said with a weak smile. Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Ron is upstairs."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. For everything."

Hermione walked, zombie-like up the dizzying flights of stairs. Either the burrow was strangely deserted or Hermione was unconsciously blocking out the normal hustle and bustle of the full house. She found herself knocking on Ron's bedroom door, eager to see him. "Yeah!" he shouted without effort. Hermione couldn't bear it any longer and creaked open the door. Ron's eyes peeked up from over the top of a quidditch magazine, doing a double take before reacting. "Bloody hell." He immediately sat up. "Hermione?" His grin was huge. He stood, meeting her in the center of his small room and hugged her completely.

She sighed into his chest, feeling herself crumbling. "What is it? What's wrong?" Hermione shook her head as the tears began to flow once more. She couldn't see his face but feeling his heartbeat drumming against her ear seemed to pull her back to where she needed to be. Suddenly she felt his hand smoothing her hair in repetitive laps, and the weight of his chin on her head.

"I'm all alone now." Her voice sounded broken. He squeezed her tightly, protectively. "What the hell does that mean?" He asked, clearly concerned and slightly offended.

Hermione leaned back and wiped at her eyes. She was suddenly glad that Ron's room was the highest in the burrow, hoping none of the other Weasleys would overhear her. She didn't want Ron's family to know how weak she was; how weak she felt. She let out a tiny growl of frustration. "I…I…"

His hands suddenly stopped on her shoulders, steadying her. "Mione, tell me what's happened."

"I wiped their memories, my parents. They don't know me, they don't know themselves. I moved them to Australia to try and keep them safe. I'm hoping their hidden well enough so that nobody unwanted will find them while we're gone." Her shoulders began to shake with tears once more. "Bloody hell," Ron whispered, gathering her close once more. He was unsure of what to say that would comfort her so he began with his first thought. "I'm proud of you." Hermione sniffled a bit, staring beyond the space of Ron's bedroom, his words echoing in her head. "You had to do it…for them. You're amazing, you are."

Hermione pulled herself back from his arms and sat heavily on his bed. Her eyes dropped to her hands. "I don't feel amazing. I'm scared to death that I'll never see them again. Even if we survive this war…"

"We will, Hermione. Don't say that."

Hermione dropped her face into her hands and spoke through her fingers. "What if, after it's all over…what if I can't put them right again?"

"If you can't then we find someone who can. Simple as that." Ron joined her on the bed, staring at her intently. Hermione nodded her head, wiping at her eyes. Finally her gaze locked onto Ron's. She smiled, rolling her eyes a bit. "I'm sorry about this." She gestured to her tears.

Ron put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently. "Don't be. And of course, you'll stay with us. I'll tell mum. I promise she'd have it no other way." Ron said gently. Hermione made no attempt to move. "She knows."

"Come again?"

"She already knows, Ron. I wrote ahead and told her that I was taking steps to protect my parents but would need to separate from them quickly. I asked if she minded an extra set of hands around the house."

Ron looked bewildered. "Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gone with, you know….helped you."

"I guess I just didn't want you to worry."

Ron let out a grunt. "I'm worried now, aren't I?" He sighed and, feeling bold, slid off the bed, his knees hitting the floor in front of Hermione. He rested his hands on her legs. Hermione felt the warmth of his palms seep through her jeans. "You said you're alone but you're not alone, got that? You'll never be alone. You'll always have me and Harry, and my family, of course. There was no reason for you to do that by yourself and I won't hear of it again, alright? I'm going to look out for you. We've got to look out for each other now."

Hermione allowed a smile to cross her face. Ron was scolding her and, even though his voice was serious, she felt her heart melt and her knees go weak. He was honestly offended by his lack of involvement in her plans. She leaned her head back onto the bright orange wall and sighed deeply. "Thanks, Ron."

He stood, gathering his blankets and draped them over her lap with a crooked smile. "I'm going to make you some tea. I'll be right back." Hermione nodded and watched him walk out of the room.