Running errands yesterday, I heard the song "Distance" by Christina Perri and thought two things: 1 - I have a new oneshot fanfic idea for H/R and 2 - someone should send this song to youtube H/R goddess dazzleme7 so she could make a fan video with it. Hope you enjoy!

The first time Hermione saw Ron kissing Lavender, she ran away until she found herself sitting at the bottom of an empty staircase. She didn't realize she was crying until the tears leapt from her cheeks, staining dark spots on the knees of her jeans. She didn't realize how hard it was for her to breathe until she heard herself gasping for air, her hand pressing into her chest as if that was somehow supposed to alleviate the pressure building in her chest. It was supposed to be her kissing him after a brilliant game of quidditch. Not that she cared about the game, but she cared about Ron, and knew enough about the sport to know that he played spectacularly…even if she thought it was only because of the liquid luck at first.

She felt ashamed about that part too…of course Harry only made him think he put the potion in Ron's drink. After all, Ron is and always will be his own worst enemy, and Harry was just trying to give him a confidence boost. She told herself she should have recognized that Harry was playing a mind trick on Ron from the beginning. That's probably why he was standing in the middle of the common room snogging the daylights out of Lavender instead of her. She probably would have never thought that Ron wasn't capable of being anything but brilliant. After all, it's all she heard that irritating girl talk about with the other girls in her dormitory once the lights went out for the night.

Every time Hermione found herself catching Ron and Lavender lip locked, she seemed to be alone, stumbling upon them, clearly believing they thought they were alone by the way the two of them - really Lavender - was going at it. Three feet away from him never felt so far to Hermione as she stood in the corner, partially hidden by a tapestry but exposed enough that if he opened his eyes for a moment he'd see her.

He'd see her because there was no way to miss her. He just had to open his eyes.

But his eyes stayed clamped shut, and Hermione turned on a heel and quietly shuffled her feet in the opposite direction. That's how it always happened. Her hesitating, waiting for the longest seconds of her life for Ron to realize that she was watching, that she was right here and for him to have the epiphany she'd been hoping for since the night he ruined the Yule Ball. That he was shouting at her for going with Victor Krum not because he was 'the enemy,' but because he was too chicken to ask her to be his date.

Hermione didn't know how much longer she could keep up the facade - the facade of her nonchalance about Ron and his new girlfriend, or her ability to suppress her feelings that some days threaten to overwhelm her very existence. When she heard he'd been poisoned by a bottle of mead, her legs couldn't carry her to the infirmary fast enough. Harry and Ginny were already there, promptly moving out of the way at the sight of their distraught friend. She heard Madame Pomfrey say that he would be fine, but it didn't stop the tears already pooled in her eyes from falling. Hermione quickly swatted them away and sat down on in the chair next to his bed, pulling it as close to him as possible, and stared at Ron as he slept.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't get some sort of satisfaction at the look of complete horror from Lavender as she found her sitting next to Ron's bed, holding his hand. Despite Lavender's accurate accusation of Hermione not caring about Ron because they hadn't spoken in weeks, she didn't care. Ron almost died, and she'd find a way to be his friend if he chose to stay with her. Hermione promised herself that the entire walk from her spot in the library to where he was right now. Hermione told herself that she'd find a way to distance her true feelings, because not having Ron in her life just wasn't an option.

But the emotion she felt when she - and everyone else in the room - heard Ron mumble her name in his sedated state was enough to give her hope, hope that his true feelings for her was buried just as deep as hers were for him. Once everyone left, leaving Hermione alone with Ron, she leaned close to his ear, and brushed some of his shaggy red hair away from his eyes. Madame Pomfrey promised he'd be out of it for a little while, while the potions she administered continued to work their healing magic, so she sucked in a sharp breath and whispered ever so softly to him, "I'm not brave enough to tell you when you're awake, so I'll tell you I love you now, and hope you're not listening." Hermione lightly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and went back to holding his hand as she watched him sleep.

Hermione begged Ron to stay in the tent that heated night while they were on the run. Frustrations were mounting, Ron was still healing from his splinching injury, and tensions could be sliced with the flick of a wand. She knew he didn't mean what he was saying. The horcrux had put those ideas into his head, and knowing how stubborn Ron was, Hermione knew he wouldn't see reason until she got it off of him. She pleaded with him to take the locket off and when he finally did, she expected him to stop and feel relief, but instead he grabbed his bag and asked him an impossible question. How could she leave Harry? They were barely getting Dumbledore's mission done with the three of them together - leaving Harry alone would only make things worse. The Horcruxes were the key to defeating Voldemort? How could he ask her to leave!

But he did ask her, and she said no. Not because she fancied Harry, but because she wasn't about to irrationally abandon their best friend. He didn't ask to be the Chosen One, and she promised to help him to the very end, just like Ron. She cried out to him as he stormed out of the tent, following him into the darkness, screaming his name to no avail. The crack of Ron apparating away and the sound of Hermione's heart breaking were in complete tandem.

Ron knew he never should have left. The three of them had had conversation after conversation about that damn locket and the fits it was giving each of them. He knew it was the horcrux putting the ideas into his head about Harry and Hermione, despite the fact that he was well aware of how Harry felt about his sister. He knew Harry missed Ginny. He caught him looking at that map all the time, watching her footsteps as she moved throughout the castle. Ron wasn't sure what was worse, being Harry and separated from Ginny, or being himself, and not having the courage to grab Hermione and pour out his entire heart. He'd definitely prove her theory of him having the emotional range of a teaspoon wrong if he every found the courage to just say everything that was in his gut.

Had he not been so angry when the locket Harry opened showed him a vision of Harry and Hermione snogging each other's brains out, he would have thrown up all over the place. The thought of Hermione with anyone else - especially Harry - was enough to set all sorts of uncontrollable reflexes in him. After all, it was that exact thought that caused him to lose all rationality and leave. But the shouts of Harry begging him to kill the locket took over, and with a vengeance, Ron raced towards the cause of his recent insecurities and smashed the Sword of Gryffindor down so hard that he felt the aftershocks ripple from his hands up to his shoulders. He heaved and heaved afterwards, catching his breath as suddenly the black cloud that had been infiltrating his mind evaporated into thin air.

When Harry brought him back to their camp, and shouted for Hermione to come see what he found, he anticipated that Hermione would be pretty upset at first. Pretty upset seemed to be an understatement once she ripped his bag from his arm and started swinging at him. You - complete - ass Ronald Weasley!" she shouted with every swing, scaring him and Harry both. Neither had ever seen her so angry, and it certainly didn't dissipate when she saw that he'd managed to destroy the locket.

Later, as Hermione voiced her opinion to go see Mr. Lovegood, Ron instantly agreed with her plan, figuring that going along with whatever she said would help him get back into her good graces. He wasn't sure it was possible, but Harry encouraged him to keep at it. "Just keep talking about that little ball of light touching your heart…she'll come around," Harry told him, giving him a smirk instead of tearing the mickey out of him. Ron was telling the truth though about how he found them, and how he wasn't quite sure how the deluminator worked, but Ron was confident that without it, he never would have heard her call out his name. He'd never heard a voice so woebegone until he heard Hermione's voice mumbling his name. It almost sounded as if he needed her, and at first, Ron didn't believe it. Why would Hermione need him of all people? But then he heard it again, and he knew Hermione. He knew her better than anyone, and if she was saying his name like that, she must be alone, and when he heard it again, he knew it wasn't a fluke.

Ron was convinced when he and Harry were locked away in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor that his heart was going to explode out of his chest with each ear-piercing scream that escaped from Hermione's lips. He didn't care that Harry told him to quit trying to escape, or to keep his voice down as he shouted her name from the top of his lungs at each of her screams. She was being tortured, and in turn, so was he. He should have fought harder to convince Greyback to keep him instead of her, even if it was in vein - with the Death Eaters distaste for muggleborns, Greyback wasn't going to give Hermione up for anyone. He'd never been so happy to see an elf when Dobby appeared, helping them escape the dungeon as they made their way back to the drawing room. Ron's happiness however was fleeting the moment they were spotted, and Bellatrix retaliated by yanking an unconscious Hermione upright, holding Hermione upright by her hair, a jagged blade pressing close against the pale skin of her neck.

As the chandelier collapsed to the ground, Ron raced to save Hermione as Bellatrix threw her away so she could save herself. Not paying any attention to what was sharp, he peeled and tossed the wreckage aside and picked her unconscious body off the ground, holding her close as he carried her away. No one saw the knife Bellatrix threw as Dobby disapparated them from the Manor. He didn't realize Dobby had been stabbed, or that he died upon their arrival. All he worried about was getting Hermione into Shell Cottage. As he carried her, he kept repeating the same sentence over and over to Hermione.

"Fleur's inside, she'll know what to do."

Ron waited nervously outside of the door of the bedroom while Fleur tended to Hermione. It felt like ages, the waiting, and he was nearly ready to barge into the room himself when Fleur finally opened the door, nearly running him to him in the process. She told him Hermione was still asleep, but she was breathing, and she healed what internal and external injuries she assessed. "You can go in," she encouraged him with a peck on the cheek. "Just be gentle."

So he did, and what he saw in the bed was barely recognizable. He knew she wasn't dead, but as she lay unmoving, dressed in a plain white gown, it set his nerves on edge in the worst possible day. Carefully, he sat down on the side of her bed and watched her sleep, feeling relief as he could see her chest rise and fall slowly with each breath. Ron wasn't really sure what to do as he watched her, all of his suppressed feelings for her rising to the top of his emotional threshold with no signs of stopping. Brushing a stray curl away from her face, he leaned down next to her ear, reached over to her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I heard you that night," he whispered. "And I am brave enough to tell you that I hope you're listening, because when you wake, I'm going to tell you that I love you."

"Ron?" Hermione's hoarse voice squeaked.

"Hermione?" Ron quietly replied, squeezing her hand as he looked up, watching as she fluttered her eyes open. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

She gave him a small nod as she rolled her head over towards the sound of his voice, her face wincing with the movement. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Bill and Fleur's," he explained. "It's a safe house. You're alright now, Hermione. You're safe."

Hermione gave a slight nod and her eyes drifted shut. "Ron?" she mumbled once more.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I love you too."