Hermione nervously looked up at the mantle clock for the first time in the last two minutes, wringing her hands together with anxiety. It was nearly midnight, and Ron was due back from his month-long Auror mission in fifteen minutes.

She hated waiting for him to come home. It always gave her a horrible feeling of uneasiness to think that he was putting himself in danger on a daily basis. They both were only twenty-one years of age; no self-respecting wizard should put his life on the line at such a young age.

That was just it; Ron hardly respected himself. He and Harry both were much too noble to ever think of themselves, they were always too busy looking out for others, like every decent Auror would. Unfortunately, the three of them had begun to risk their lives at very early ages, and being Gryffindors, it was in their blood to be noble. Hermione smiled to herself as she thought of the countless times her two best friends had sacrificed themselves at the expense of the people they loved, herself included. Her smile slowly faded as she imagined the infinite possibilities of situations her friends could be enduring at this moment.

Her head whipped up as the sound of flickering fire met her ears. The fireplace was burning green as a tall man appeared behind a curtain of emerald flames. Relief washed over her as Ron stepped onto the hearth, shaking ash from his vividly red hair.

She was in his arms in an instant, and she felt herself being locked into a loving embrace. He held her tightly for what seemed like days on end before he withdrew, only to tilt her face toward his and gently press his lips to hers.

"I missed you so much," he whispered to her, his face millimeters from hers. She smiled faintly and felt tears forming in her eyes. "You were gone too long." Hermione stepped out of his arms slightly and looked his body over, her eyes raking over every part of him. He didn't seem to be too beaten up; just a few cuts and bruises, and his robes were torn and dirty. She was so grateful that he wasn't hurt, and especially thankful that he was alive.

Hermione wrapped herself in Ron's embrace once more and squeezed him tightly around his waist. "Is Harry alright? No deadly injuries?" Ron nodded, kissing the side of her head. "He's fine, Hermione. He should be home with Ginny by now, actually."

She felt another wave of relief hit her; both her boys were home and safe. She looked up at Ron, his content, yet tired, blue eyes watching her adoringly. She suddenly felt a need for him to be as close as possible to her.

Hermione abruptly crushed her lips against his, her hands groping at him to pull him closer. He responded just as enthusiastically, tangling his fingers in her brown curls. She moaned into his mouth, and she felt him smile against her lips.

They tripped clumsily over the stairs as she pulled him upstairs to the bedroom, her actions caused by pure adrenaline. Together, they stumbled into the room, Hermione's hands tugging his dirty robes off while keeping her lips attached to his. She was quite aware that his hands were now running down her waist as he countered her moves by removing her own robes. She briefly disconnected herself from him to pull the white T-shirt off of his torso.

What she saw next, however, immediately caused all romantic thoughts to flee her mind, and her hands flew to her mouth as she stared at the horrible sight in front of her.

Across Ron's chest was a long red slash, a scar that seemed to have sealed itself, but still looked rather gruesome. It was shiny from clearly being healed properly, but the sight of it still caused tears to form in Hermione's eyes.

Ron looked at her, confused, and looked down as he followed her line of sight. His eyes turned sad at the realization at what she saw, and he took her in his arms as he began to explain.

"Hermione, this happened a week ago, it wasn't a big deal –"

"What?" her voice was raspy, and the softness of it startled both of them. "Ron, it looks awful! How did this happen? You weren't supposed to get hurt; I can't believe I allowed you to go on that mission –"

Her babbling was cut off by his lips finding hers. For the first time, she pushed him away, suddenly furious with him that he hadn't mentioned the injury earlier. He looked at her, offended, but she merely narrowed her eyes.

"How did this happen?"

He sighed, looking like he was realizing that he wasn't getting out of this. "I got slashed by a Death Eater during a battle. He was using a knife, and we later found out it was cursed. He cut me deep, but the other Aurors were able to patch me up alright." He grinned sheepishly, but his story had only caused tears to fall silently down her face. He stepped closer to her and wiped the tears with his thumbs, gently kissing her forehead. She gave a distressed squeak and fell against him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He gently lifted her in his arms with ease and deposited her onto their bed, rolling onto her left side. His actions of comfort did nothing for her; she still cried steadily into her hands.

"Love, I'm fine! It hardly hurt when it happened, it was just a scratch!" His voice sounded desperate, but she didn't believe a word he was saying. She looked at him skeptically, and then at the scar. She lifted her hand and gently traced the slash. It felt unnaturally smooth under her touch, and she could hardly stand it. She drew her hand back, but Ron caught it before she could hide her face behind it again. He brought her hand up to his face and gently kissed it, tugging on her arm so she was in his arms once more.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he apologized. "I'll try really hard not to get hurt anymore, alright?" She was distracted by that ugly scar again, but she nodded at his words.

It wasn't like this was his first scar. He had plenty from the war and his years at Hogwarts, such as the welts the brains in the Ministry had left on his arms and the scar on his bicep that she had caused by Splinching him. She still felt rather guilty about that. Though his body was already quite scarred, just like hers, it still pained her to see another one added to his collection. She hated to know that he was hurt and she wasn't there to make it better.

"Now we both have cursed scars."

His voice startled her out of her reverie, and her eyes widened at what he was referring to. He lifted a finger and lightly stroked the faint scar on her neck, a permanent reminder of her visit to Malfoy Manor. His eyes met hers, and she noticed how much sadness they held.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time," he said. "I could've prevented this from happening." He gestured to her scar, and she swallowed visibly.

"Well, I think you made up for it when you saved me from that awful place." He blushed and murmured, "I let them torture you, I didn't save you –"

"Yes, you did!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. "You have no idea how brave you are, do you? Ron, you'll risk your own life for anyone you love, and you have no boundaries when it comes to protecting your loved ones. It's one of my favorite things about you, Ron."

He grinned and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. They broke apart after a few moments and Ron spoke inches from her mouth, "I don't want you to worry about this anymore." He gestured to the scar on his chest. "It's done and over with, alright? And in return, I won't worry about yours.

"Because Hermione, I'm out there fighting Death Eaters because I get to come home to you. I get these scars because I'm fighting for you. I want you to be able to live, Hermione, and I never want you to experience that horrible night at Malfoy Manor ever again."

Hermione looked at him in adoration, her eyes shining with fresh tears. "Ron…you're so amazing. I love you so much." She embraced him tightly, and muttered into his shoulder, "But if you get hurt like this again without writing to me about it or telling me, I'll curse you worse than any Death Eater could've ever done."

She felt him shudder against her, and she grinned against his bare chest. Now, more than ever, she was just glad he was home.