Ron fell to his knees as soon as they reached her.

"Hermione!"

He bent down to put his cheek by her face. Harry was beside him now, watching in horror, wishing he could think of something to do to help, wondering what in the world they would do if Hermione didn't wake up, and scolding himself for letting such defeatist thoughts into his head in the first place.

She'll be all right, he thought. She will.

Ron was still bent over her, running his hand gingerly over her hair. With a shaky sigh, he looked up at Harry and said, "She's breathing... She'll... be okay, I think..." But he didn't sound too convinced.

Right by Hermione's head, Hedwig's cage lay open, bars bent and twisted in the snow. Judging by its position, Harry guessed that the cage must have hit Hermione's head and knocked her out when Harry had pushed them out of the train. It had all happened so fast that he had not had the chance to put a levitating spell on either Hermione, or Hedwig's cage, and now his stomach twisted at the sight as he saw the result of his actions. Nearby, Hedwig was sprawled out on the ground, going almost unobserved because she blended so perfectly with the snow. She was giving off feeble hoots, as she tried to tuck in one of her wings. She was hurt too.

"Hedwig..." Harry picked her up as gently as he could and brought her over to Ron and Hermione. "How is she?" Harry asked Ron, who looked absolutely petrified, more petrified than Harry had ever seen him.

"She... still won't wake up."

And as if by some miracle, as soon as Ron said the words, Hermione's eyelids began to flutter and slowly open. "Ron?" she said weakly. "Harry? What happened?"

"Shh," Ron said, as he and Harry helped her to sit. "Take it easy..."

"Don't shh me, Ron."

All the pent-up tension Ron had been holding in for the last few minutes finally bubbled to the surface. "Blimey, Hermione! I'm just trying to help, would you just let me-"

Hermione flashed him a smile. "I was only joking," she said. She put her hand on top of his, which had been on her cheek all this time, and gave it a small squeeze. "Relax, would you?"

"Relax," Ron muttered, taking his hand away, as if suddenly realizing where it had been. "You're hurt--sure, I can relax..."

Hermione's pale cheeks suddenly became infused with color. She seemed genuinely surprised at just how worried Ron had been--and still was--and unsure how to reassure him. She turned to Harry and said, "How's Hedwig?"

"Don't worry about her right now, Hermione," he told her. He had never been so happy to hear her talking--even if it was to boss them around again--and couldn't help but think at that moment that he would gladly have her telling them what to do for the rest of their lives as long as it meant that she would be fine. "What about you, are you okay?"

She chuckled softly, putting a hand to her crown. "Well, I've certainly been better." Even Crookshanks seemed relieved, and nuzzled up to Hermione.

"She doesn't seem to have a concussion," Ron said. He had cupped Hermione's face and turned her head to face his, and was now looking intently into her eyes.

Clearly amused, Hermione said, "You seem so sure of that, Ron."

His eyes flashed with annoyance; Harry felt bad for him, as he knew Ron was only trying to help. "Well, in case you've forgotten, dear old Wormtail knocked me out two years ago, and I learned all about concussions then," he said irritably. "Your pupils look fine, and apart from that nasty bump you'll have on your head for a while-" (Hermione automatically reached to touch the top of her head and grimaced) "-you'll be fine."

"That's good to know," she said. Then, she gasped. "Peter! Oh no, now I remember--we were trying to get away from him-"

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry said. "I think we managed to escape him for now."

Her eyes widened. "For now! Harry, we've got to-"

"Stop it, come on," Ron said. "Panicking isn't going to help you get any better, I'll tell you that." He slid his arm through hers and along with Harry, pulled her up.

"Do you feel dizzy at all?" Harry said. "Can you walk? I don't know how long we can keep Peter at bay, but it certainly can't be too smart to stay here. We've got to find someplace to hide."

"I'm fine-" No sooner than she said the words, Hermione let out a muted yelp.

"What?? What is it, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Ron, I'm all right," she said quickly, but Harry could see she was lying. She was standing on only one leg, and she seemed reluctant to put the other one down.

"I can carry you, if you want-"

"Excuse me? You'll do no such thing!!" Her face turned red as she shooed Ron's hands away. "I'm not some helpless little damsel in distress," she said. "I can certainly walk just as well as you two."

Ron sighed and exchanged exasperated looks with Harry, who just shrugged. Experience had taught him that it was useless arguing with Hermione when she was in this state, especially when she had her mind set on proving them wrong.

"Come on!!" she barked at them, limping pathetically into the direction of a forest that stood behind them, Crookshanks following her close behind.

Ron was not too far behind her either, ready to catch her in an instant, Harry suspected, if she decided she couldn't endure the pain of walking on her injured leg after all.

Harry followed them, a strange feeling gnawing at his insides as he looked at the imposing trees that surrounded them. Perhaps it had been his memories of the Forbidden Forest on the Hogwarts grounds (a forest in which he had been far too many times for his liking), but he couldn't shake the feeling as they were further enveloped by this dark, isolated place, that they were somewhere where they should not have gone.

"D'you reckon someone's in there?"

They had come upon a small hut inside the forest, not at all unlike the hut in which Hagrid lived, made of stone and logs, and sitting conspicuously in the middle of the woods.

"I don't see any light inside," Hermione said, wiping a pane of glass clean with her hand and trying to peek inside.

"There's no smoke coming out of the chimney, either," Harry observed.

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Ron said. "Let's get inside, it's freezing!"

"Ron, are you mad? That's breaking and entering! We don't even know who this belongs to-"

"You're going to pick now to remind us of the rules again, Hermione?"

Ron was shivering as he spoke, hugging himself. They had all left their cloaks on the train, along with the rest of their belongings, for that matter. Harry wondered how in the world they were ever going to get them all back, but he figured this was the least of their problems at the moment.

"There's never a good time for law-breaking," Hermione said.

With a roll of his eyes, Ron came forward and pointed his wand at the door. "I beg to differ!" he said. "Alohomora!"

"Doing magic away from Hogwarts," Hermione was moaning, "we're going to be in so much trouble..."

"You're worried about losing points for Gryffindor?? For goodness sakes, Hermione, it's a bloody emergency! I think Dumbledore would cut us some slack!"

Harry thought for a moment that Hermione would refuse to enter the hut out of principle, but after a few seconds trembling outside in the snow, she finally hopped in.

"Still just fine, are you?" Ron said, watching her.

She glared at him. "Perfectly."

He looked at Harry and let out a snort. "The world would come crashing down before she asks for help," he said. "If she'd just let me take a look at her leg-"

"Ooh, you arrogant-"

Hermione had made a move to lunge at Ron, but ended up stumbling, unable to put any weight on her leg. Ron caught her just in time, and kept her from falling.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry said, coming to her side to help.

"For the last time, YES!" she growled, pushing Ron off her, before collapsing onto a chair. As soon as she did, cried out in pain, gabbing her ankle.

Ron came to her side instantly. "I knew it, I knew you were hurt," he said.

"Congratulations," Hermione said through gritted teeth. Ron was tending to her foot.

"Just hold still and let me see it, all right?"

She tried to protest for a little while more, then finally stopped squirming. Ron gently removed her shoe, then her sock. Harry heard her very ragged breathing, and he knew she was in even more pain than she had been letting on. Ron grimaced; her ankle was swollen badly, and had turned yellow and purple.

"It's just as I thought," he said. "Sprained." He turned to Harry. "Least it's not broken, otherwise I wouldn't have known how to fix that."

Hermione watched him with a mixture of disbelief and wonder in her eyes as he pulled out his wand. "Pes reparo."

They all watched as the shades of yellow and purple receded from her ankle, and miraculously, the swelling began to lessen as well.

"That was actually the spell to heal your foot," Ron explained. "I'm sorry--I forgot my Latin for ankle."

Hermione smiled.

"That should go a long way in making it better, though." Ron finally seemed to notice the way Hermione was looking at him, and he nervously cleared his throat. "Er... your ankle should be fine in the morning..."

"Thank you," she said softly. "You'd make a pretty good doctor someday, you know."

Ron must have thought she was being sarcastic, because he finally let go of her ankle and straightened to standing. "Blimey! Here I am taking care of your ankle, and... Can't you just say something nice to me for once?"

"I-I was! I am..." Hermione was visibly flustered as she looked up at Ron, who was towering over her. "I really was trying to thank you, Ron," she said.

Ron hesitated. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Harry couldn't help but grin when Ron finally smiled and knelt down in front of Hermione again. He seemed so sensitive around her these days.

"I reckon I don't blame you for thinking I was being flip," she said. "I'm sorry for being so grouchy earlier... It's just that this damn ankle was hurting so much..."

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise; he obviously hadn't expected Hermione to curse. Hermione smiled sheepishly at him and went on.

"And I meant what I said, Ron. I really do think you'd make a good doctor someday. I... never knew you were so good at these things." She hesitated, perhaps wondering if he would be offended again at her choice of words, but Ron just gave her his trademark lop-sided smile.

"See," he teased, "I do pay attention in class, contrary to popular belief. And besides... Mum had seven kids to take care of--and six boys, at that. You don't grow up in a rowdy house like ours without picking up a thing or two." He chuckled and added after some thought, "Especially with brothers like Fred and George."

Harry had long turned his back on them, trying to occupy himself with getting the big, old-fashioned stove that stood in the middle of the hut to work. He felt a little funny listening to their conversation; he seemed to feel that way a lot these days. Ron and Hermione had been dancing this awkward dance for the better part of the last year and a half, and sometimes Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was in their way.

"Need some help there, Harry?" Ron came over to his side and looked at the stove with him. "How's this thing work, anyway?"

"Dunno... I reckon it works like a fireplace, 'cept we haven't any wood."

"I'll go get some, then-"

"No, it's all right," Harry said. "You stay here with Hermione. I'll get it."

The wind had started up when he stepped outside, whipping his face, nearly blowing his glasses off. It had grown so dark now, and it was even darker inside the dense forest that he could barely see. He stuck out his wand hand. "Lumos!"

That's a little better, he thought. He reached up on his toes and began breaking off tiny branches from one of the trees, then froze in his spot when he heard a noise.

Spinning around, but seeing no one, he called out in a whisper, "Ron? Hermione?" He knew it was foolish to even be saying their names; they were still inside the hut. He looked around for a few more minutes, but after seeing nothing that aroused his suspicion, he decided to go back into the hut.

When he came in, he saw that Ron and Hermione were both sitting at the table now, examining Hedwig, who was whimpering while they looked at her. Harry dropped the branches to the floor and shook the snow off his sweater, then walked over to them.

"Is it bad?" he said.

Ron looked up and sighed. "Her wing's broken. I'm sorry, mate, I only know how to fix sprains."

Harry nodded and stroked Hedwig's head. "Guess that rules out sending her out to get help." He sighed. "Not that we even know where we are."

"Too bad I already sent Pig home with Fred, George, and Ginny."

"I hate to say this, but... perhaps it's just as well," Hermione said. "I mean, if Peter's out there looking for us... we can't risk our message getting intercepted by him. Or worse..."

Harry didn't want to think about what could be worse. He just wanted this all to be over. All he wanted at the moment was to be in his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor tower, listening to Ron snoring and Neville's toad, Trevor, croaking through the night.

He had already known Christmas was going to be tough this year, but this was even worse than he could have ever imagined.

Hermione was crying beside him. He made a motion to put his arm around her, but Ron had already done so before he could. "Mum and Dad are going to be so worried when we don't show up at the station," she said, sniffling. Then she turned to Ron. "And your parents... Oh Ron, they'll be so worried about you too... You should have been on that train with Fred and George and Ginny, not stuck here with us in the middle of nowhere, waiting for you-know-who to come and get us..."

"It's all right," Ron was telling her, caressing her arm as he did. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you and Harry."

Hermione cried even harder now. "But you can't even be with your family on Christmas..."

"Oh, what am I missing anyway?" Ron said. "Percy bragging about his promotion? Fred and George putting beetles in the soup? Ginny talking endlessly about Harry?"

Harry blushed after the last remark and decided now would be a good time to jump in. "Come on, Hermione, it's been a long day... Maybe we should get some sleep and figure out what we're going to do in the morning."

Hermione nodded and wiped her tears away. Ron was still holding her, until he started to become uncomfortable and slowly eased himself off.

"Er... yeah, Harry's right," he said. "I'm kind of tired myself."

"Wait a minute," Hermione said, frowning. "There's only one bed..." She looked at it for a few moments, then turned to Harry and Ron. "It's big enough for two people... You two should get it-"

"Oh no," Ron said, "I may be many things, but I am not a cad. My mother raised her boys to be gentlemen--you are getting the bed. Harry and I will sleep on the floor. Right, Harry?"

Harry was so exhausted that he would have been willing to sleep in a bathtub at that moment. "Sure."

Some time later, a fire was burning in the stove, and Hermione was settled in the bed, with Harry and Ron on the floor beside her. None of them said a word, but Harry wouldn't have been able to register anything even if they had been talking; his mind was still racing with thoughts of Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort and the noise he was sure he had heard in the forest.

When will this finally be over, he thought. He wondered if he would ever see a day when he didn't have to look over his shoulder and think twice about Voldemort finding some way to finish what he had started fourteen years ago. He gripped his blanket. The dark wizard had already taken everything from him--his parents, his home, his legacy, and now he had spent the last few months living in the very grim reality that Voldemort could back at any moment to finish him off once and for all.

"Harry? You still awake?"

Harry felt a little guilty pretending to be asleep, but he just wasn't up to talking right now, even to Ron.

After a while, Ron simply said, "G'night, Harry."