Author's Note: I know the Ron/Hermione missing moment at Shell Cottage has been written 61304297 times already, but it's one of my favorite scenes to read and write about. Plus, I had this image of the two of them in my head that I liked, so I wanted to put it in a fanfiction, and this seemed like the best moment to put it in. I hope you like it, and sorry if I screwed up Fleur's accent, it was a bit difficult to write.

Disclaimer: I must not tell lies! I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own any part of Harry Potter.

"It isn't! It isn't me!"

Those were the last words Ron heard Hermione speak before they were taken to Malfoy Manor. After that, the next thing that came out of her mouth was an agonized scream. Then another. And another. If that was the last time he heard her voice, he'd probably die of a broken heart. All the things left unspoken between them would be too much to bear.

Why wasn't she awake yet? If it weren't for the faint pulse Ron felt on Hermione's wrist as he grasped her hand, he would think she was already dead. But she couldn't die, not now. She had to be all right.

"Hermione, please wake up," Ron pleaded. "We're safe, nothing will hurt you anymore. I promise. Please don't do this to me."

Hermione's eyelashes fluttered. And then, to Ron's immense relief, he saw the beautiful brown eyes he'd feared would never open again, so deep and intense he thought he could get lost in them forever.

"Ron," Hermione whispered. It was comforting to wake up to his familiar red hair and freckles. She studied him for a few seconds, frowning. "You're hurt," she said softly. She reached a trembling hand up to the red mark on his face, a feature left from Bellatrix hitting him.

Ron covered Hermione's hand with his own, pressing her palm to his cheek. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing," he said. "Besides, you're more hurt than I am."

"I'm okay," Hermione said. "Only a few aches, that's all."

Ron took Hermione's hand and touched it to his lips before letting it fall gently. "You're so brave," he murmured, and Hermione smiled.

"So are you," she said.

Ron shook his head. "I almost lost it down in that cellar. I couldn't keep it together. That wasn't brave."

"Well, maybe not, but I would've acted the same way if our positions were reversed. Anyone would've," Hermione said.

"I just hated that you were so close to me and there was absolutely nothing I could do for you," Ron admitted.

"But you did do something!" Hermione said. "You practically kept me alive!"

"I did? How?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"I could hear you calling for me, and it reminded me of Bellatrix saying that she'd take you if I died. I couldn't let that happen, so I knew that I had to keep fighting, and you gave me the strength to do that."

Ron didn't think he could say anything even if he wanted to. Every emotion he'd felt over the last several hours – his love for Hermione and his fear of losing her and his relief at seeing her alive – seemed to have formed a large lump that was now lodged in his throat.

Fortunately, he was saved from any embarrassment by the arrival of Fleur. "'Ow are you feeling?" she asked Hermione.

"Not too bad," Hermione replied.

"Good," Fleur said. She smiled, but Ron thought he saw a hint of sorrow in her expression.

"What's wrong?" he said. "Is everything okay? Where's Harry?"

"'Arry eez fine," Fleur said. She hesitated, bit her lip, and then continued. "I do not wish to upset you, but I suppose you should know. Ze leetle 'ouse-elf eez dead."

Ron gasped in shock and glanced over at Hermione. She looked confused, and he realized she didn't know what Fleur was talking about.

"She means Dobby," he explained thickly. "He showed up in the cellar and got us out, and then he helped us rescue you and Griphook. He – he's the main reason we're here right now."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "That's so unfair!" she burst out. "Why should he die, when he was the one who saved us?"

Ron moved closer to Hermione and hugged her tightly. They sat and cried silently for a few minutes, forgetting that Fleur was still in the room.

Finally, Ron stood up and dried his tears. "I should go find Harry," he said reluctantly.

"'E eez outside, digging a grave for Dobby," Fleur said. Ron left without another word. Hermione began to follow him, but Fleur gently pushed her back down. "You need rest right now," she said firmly. "Sleep. I will wake you when zey bury ze elf."

Hermione was about to protest, but her eyes closed and she drifted off before she could even try.

It was a small group that gathered by Dobby's grave, not nearly the kind of funeral Hermione felt he deserved for his heroic actions. She stood beside Ron, who had his arm around her shoulders. She'd insisted on walking outside without assistance, but Ron's embrace was soothing and reassuring.

Luna spoke first, making a short but meaningful speech to say farewell to Dobby. Ron and Dean gave quick thanks as well, and then Harry said good-bye. Hermione, however, found that she had no words. This courageous little elf had given up his life so she and her friends could have theirs. What could she possibly say to even come close to showing her gratitude?

When the ceremony had concluded, Harry requested to stay at the grave for a moment, so the others respectfully turned to leave him alone. Ron kept his arm around Hermione as they started to make their way back to the cottage, but even then her steps were small and slow. Finally, Ron scooped her up and carried her inside.

"Do you want to sleep some more?" he asked her.

Hermione shook her head. "Let's go sit with the others in the living room," she suggested.

Ron nodded and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Hermione's ear. He walked into the living room, still holding her, but Hermione found that she didn't care.

She'd always known that something like this might happen. She'd just hoped and prayed that it wouldn't.

She was lying on the floor. It was cold and hard, but that was the least of her problems right now.

The pain was unbearable. It was all she knew, all she would ever know. With every curse she endured, she lost another ounce of hope until it was all drained away, along with her strength. Finally, she resigned herself to the fact that she was going to die, and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.

The mad woman standing over her was yelling something, but most of the words were incomprehensible to her foggy mind. The woman then raised her wand, and the pain intensified, like adding another log to an already blazing fire.

A scream rose up in her throat and spilled out into the room. Another voice drifted into her ears, calling out for her in a panicked tone: "Hermione! Hermione!" She wanted to respond, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything. She was completely helpless…

"Hermione." It was the same voice that had been saying her name, but it was gentler and less frightened. Ron's voice. She was still screaming, but the surface upon which she laid was now soft and warm. Her eyes flew open.

"Hermione," Ron repeated. Hermione fell silent, her body shaking with sobs. She turned onto her side and buried her tear-stained face in Ron's shoulder. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer.

"It was just a dream," he whispered. "You're okay."

Now Hermione remembered where she was: she was in a bedroom at Shell Cottage, safe from the horrors of Malfoy Manor. She glanced over at the second bed in the room, which was occupied by Luna, but miraculously the other girl was still sleeping soundly.

"S-Sorry to wake you," she said to Ron, taking deep breaths to try to calm herself.

"I don't mind," Ron said. "You're more important than sleep."

Hermione blushed, hoping that it was too dark for Ron to notice. "What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked. "I thought you were sleeping downstairs with Harry."

"Oh, well, I – I came to check on you, and just when I was about to leave, you started screaming and thrashing around. It was kind of scary."

"Sorry," Hermione said again.

"It's not your fault," Ron said. He cleared his throat. "Do you, er, need me to stay with you the rest of the night?"

"No, that's all right," Hermione said. "I'll be fine."

"Okay, if you're sure," Ron said. He released his hold on Hermione and got up. "But if you need me, you know where to find me."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

"Don't mention it," Ron said. He gave Hermione a kiss on the forehead and then left the room. Hermione watched him go and settled back under the covers, certain that she would sleep peacefully. Knowing for sure that she loved Ron and he loved her back was the best medicine she could get.