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Summary
Ron pushed off the tree and sighed, running a hand down his face. "Leave, Hermione. You can't be here. It's not…it won't end well for you. Or anyone involved."
"Why?" She found herself asking but couldn't be shocked she had.
He looked up from the ground and met her eyes, the blue color flashing gold for a moment before he cleared his throat.
"Because pretty witches like you don't get hunted by wolves and make it out of the forest unscathed, sweetheart."
