(A/N: This is the story of what happened in those nineteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts. This is my first fan fiction, although I've written numerous fiction pieces using characters of my own invention. I love reviews. Thanks so much!)

Chapter warnings: Language

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood together, the inseparable trio, in the middle of what used to be the Great Hall. Tears rolled freely down Hermione's face and she made no motion to wipe them away as she clutched Ron's hand. She buried her head into his shoulder and he held her, still staring at the carnage of the last place any of them had believed was safe. It wasn't, obviously. It was destroyed.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, locked in an embrace, and looked away at once, feeling as though he was intruding on something private. He sighed and walked away, looking around at the only place he had truly ever been able to call home. Destroyed. The lives of so many he loved, completely ruined. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. The last man that had been like a father to him… gone… the weight of the loss crashed over him like a physical weight and he fell down onto his knees. There were few onlookers, most of the weary veterans of this wizarding war ready to dispose of their dead, return home, and begin the heavy burden of grieving.

Harry, resisting his own tears, looked back at Hermione and Ron who were wrapped up in all of the Weasleys all of the sudden. A pang of longing ran through Harry. The war was over, Voldemort was dead, but nothing could bring his parents back. Nothing could ease this pain. He loved the Weasleys and Hermione, and he knew he'd always have a home with them, he'd always be part of their family. But it was not the same, and everyone knew it. He turned away from their family, suddenly unable to look at anyone, because everyone was embracing each other, while Harry sat there, completely alone.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there- long enough for his legs to fall asleep- when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Recognizing immediately her familiar scent, he stood up and looked the most beautiful girl in the world straight in the eyes. He felt Ginny take in his disheveled appearance, the trace of the few tears he hadn't been able to stop, and as he stared at her face, he saw that her own dirt streaked face was streaked with tears as well and he realized he hadn't ever seen her cry.

The two wrapped each other fiercely in an embrace that lasted who knew how long. Ginny placed a loving hand on Harry's face and kissed his cheek before taking his hand and leading him over to the Weasleys. It was only then that Harry saw the blue boot sitting in the midst of all of them, and he barely grabbed the Portkey before they all got whisked away to the Burrow.

Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, George, Percy, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all looked at each others' faces, searching for an explanation. Surely, Fred wasn't gone. It was all some elaborate prank and he'd be waiting inside for them, laughing and them and celebrating because the war was over. Finally. But they couldn't find the answers they wanted, and so they all walked into the Burrow, save Harry and Ron who both stalked off in different directions away from the house.

Harry turned around and saw Ginny watching him as she was ushered inside by her mother, and then saw Ron, stalking away in a matter much similar to his. Harry pondered for a moment following him, but saw his face contorted with as much grief as he'd ever seen his best friend with in his life, and, assessing his own feelings, decided against it. This was something they both had to handle on their own.

…

Hermione and Ginny sat together on the couch, feeling out of place as Molly and Fleur bustled around, preparing food and drink for everyone, and the men sat at the table, minus George who had disappeared immediately to his room, their faces all sullen but tear-free. Hermione looked at Ginny, who, aside from Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville was her closest friend, and saw the dried tears on her face as she watched Harry sitting in the yard. Ginny sighed and turned around, sinking into the couch. Her voice was quiet and wavered a little, but to her credit, she did not cry. Ginny had always been extremely strong.

"He thinks it's his fault. All of this. Us. Loosing Fred. I can tell. And he misses having a family." Hermione looked at Ginny incredulously, unable to believe how easily she was able to read Harry, especially because the past few years, Harry and Ron had both been complete mysteries as far as Hermione was able to decipher. She shook her head.

"But he has your family, he has me, Neville, Lup-" Hermione gasped, for she had been about to group Lupin in with Harry's adopted family. "Anyway, and Hagrid.. he has so many…" Ginny shook her head fiercely, her red hair flying everywhere.

"But they aren't his, 'Mione. He wants what I have and what you'll have as soon as you take the enchantments off your parents. Two people that gave birth to him, that love him and put him ahead of everything in the entire world. And… he knows he's not going to get that."

Hermione shrugged and took a turn looking at Ron out the window, his face an unmistakable mask of grief and pain. Ginny arose from the couch and headed out the back door, wiping dirt and tears from her face.

"I'll be back." Hermione nodded and watched Ginny walk over to Harry, who was bent over in inconsolable grief, and place a hand on his head. She then looked at Ron, wishing she had this instinct of Ginny's, that taught her exactly what to do, what to say, to take away Ron's pain. Because she knew now what she had consciously realized for the first time when he'd kissed her. She loved him. That was why they fought the way they did, that was why she had hated him with Lavender and why he'd been such a complete ass about Krum. They loved each other. This in turn brought Hermione more grief. If they were in love, if she loved him, shouldn't she be able to march out there the way Ginny could and make Ron feel better?

As it was, however, she didn't know what to do or what to say, so she stayed inside, staring at him.

…..

Ginny placed a hand on Harry's shoulder before sinking down to sit by him and grabbing his hand. She knew he was in more pain than even she, who had just lost a brother, could possibly imagine. And she wasn't sure how to console him, but she knew immediately she'd done the right thing by coming out here because he clutched her, and she felt his face was wet. She lifted his chin gently so she could look him in the eyes as she spoke, showing him how firmly she meant it.

"Harry, I know how much it hurts. Shit. I don't know how much it hurts and I'm sorry for that. But you have got to believe me. This is NOT your fault." Harry looked her in the eyes, his face contorted in the way only guys' faces get when they're trying to be strong.

"Gin… It is. This was my destiny, to be left alone, to loose everyone. Never yours, never Ron's, never George's. I've gotten so many members of your family killed, injured, maimed, just because of who I am. Without me you'd be so much better off." Ginny smiled sadly at him and wiped his hair, held down by sweat, off of his face.

"That may be true, but Harry, I…" She gulped, because she knew the words she was about to say were true, and it scared her. "I love you, Harry. And I would be lost, had you not let Ron sit in your compartment your first year. I love you." She repeated it again, with a smile, because she knew it was true. She studied his face, scared she had said the wrong thing, but she immediately became convinced that it was right, because something in his eyes changed. They still had an unbelievable amount of hurt in them, it was true, but something seemed a little more… healed.

"I love you too, Ginny. I always have." And with that, he kissed her, softly, at first, and then with an urgency that she immediately returned. She broke it off after what felt like decades, resting her head on his shoulder, letting herself finally believe what she had been scared to- that he still cared for her. She sat up abruptly and looked him in the eyes before smacking him across the face. She resisted laughing as his face contorted and bewilderment colored it.

"Bloody hell, what was that for?" Ginny looked him fiercely in the eyes.

"That was for letting me think you were dead, you prick." And then she kissed him, with more intensity than she ever had before.

"And that was for not actually being dead, because I'd be lost without you." With that, much to Ginny's delight, he smiled, and it was small, and it threatened to fade quickly, but it was a smile. She leaned forward until their noses nearly touched.

"I love being able to make you smile." With that, Harry stood up and picked Ginny up with him. Ginny giggled in delight as he swirled her around and kissed her again before setting her lightly on her feet.

"What on earth was that for?" Not that Ginny minded. She was positive that Harry could literally see how her heart was pounding out of her chest.

"Ginny. We're free." She raised a red eyebrow at him, questioning him. He laughed a little.

"There's no more fighting, no more war, no more hiding. Voldemort is dead. He's never going to hurt me, he will never hurt anyone ever again. We're free to just…. Be." She smiled at him, and even though Ginny hadn't been with them, she hadn't been separated from family and friends and on the run, she could see how simply delighted Harry was that he was free, and him being happy, made her happy. She kissed him softly on the cheek and held his arm, her head on his shoulder, as they walked back into the house.

Ginny let Harry support her, because she was wiped clean of any energy. She was strong, it came with having the life she'd had, not to mention dating Harry Potter, but she was so completely exhausted from the past year's events. Hell, the past 7 years' events. She let herself fall into the arms that she trusted to keep her supported. She never wanted to loose this. She'd lost so many people that were important to her, but she was still with Harry. And it was all that mattered.

…

Hermione smiled half heartedly as Harry and Ginny came in. They nodded in her direction before heading up the stairs. She sighed. She half wanted to run up to Ginny and ask what she had said, what magic words had turned Harry from a grief-stricken, crying, brooding person to one that was holding her as they ascended the stairs. But at the same time she knew it wouldn't work, whatever it was, for Ron. Ron was different. She knew now that she loved him, as much as it pained her to admit- she didn't like being controlled by emotions- but she still didn't know how to comfort him. However, it was becoming more and more painfully clear that she would be the only one that would get through to him.

She climbed off of the sofa, her legs tingling as they came back to life, and she started to the back door.

"Be careful, dear." She turned and saw Mrs. Weasley standing there, fresh clothes and a cleaner face, although it was none less grief-stricken than it had been.

"Ron… he's a tricky one. If he snaps… don't take it personally." Hermione pushed a stray piece of dirt-streaked hair out of her face and nodded, Mrs. Weasley's words not comforting her in the slightest as she made the walk to Ron. It felt as though it took forever, and he didn't even look up. As she walked, she thought of everything she could say. There were so many words, and they strung together in her head, not even forming sentences. But when she got there, she just sat by him, without saying a word. She placed a hand on top of his, and he clutched it fiercely, her only sign that he was even alive anymore.

They sat like that for at least two hours, Hermione estimated, based on the disappearance of the sun. She guessed it was eight or later. That was when the first droplet of rain hit her face. As it began sprinkling, Ron looked up at her, his face completely unreadable. What scared Hermione was the complete lack of emotion in his voice. She would prefer complete malice to the dead, hardened voice he spoke in.

"Why are you here?" Hermione stuttered for a moment. Why was she there? She didn't quite know. She could see through the window everybody else inside who were, if not happy, comfortable, sitting around the fire with tea in hand, Ginny wrapped in Harry's arms, both of them clean and dry, while she and Ron sat outside, rain pounding their heads, dirt and dried blood caking both of them. It wasn't either of their finer moments. She looked at Ron, still not speaking, scared she'd say the wrong thing.

"I… I wouldn't want… I mean… I… I lo- I care about you, Ron." She looked at him helplessly. She couldn't tell him she loved him because it was still too buried, too deep. But that did it. He uncurled from the tight ball he'd been in and put his head in his hands. She cautiously wrapped an arm around him, but he removed it and pulled her into his lap, burying his head into the crook of her neck. He looked up after a while, staring at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to this Ron. She was used to the Ron that pretended to be tough, pretended he didn't care. Hermione didn't like the vulnerability in his eyes… it made her feel vulnerable, herself. Still, she stroked his face a little.

By then, it was a complete downpour, and the mud streaked off of both of their faces in rivers, but neither of them cared. Ron leaned down until their faces were nearly touching, and Hermione feared he would soon become aware of how his touch electrified her senses. Hermione whispered, and Ron could barely hear her over the rain.

"I w-was so scared… it could've been you." Ron looked pensive for a moment.

"Would it have mattered? If it was?" Hermione's jaw dropped. She sputtered a little, unable to formulate words.

"Ron… Ye- how could you even… Of course it would have bloody mattered! You…" Tears began to pour from her eyes in earnest, blending in with the torrential downpour of raindrops. "You mean everything, to me, Ron." Ron scoffed.

"Yeah, me and Harry, I know." Hermione shook her head fiercely, her auburn hair coming unplastered from her neck and splaying everywhere.

"No, Ron. I love Harry, I do. As a brother. But you…" She bit her lip, all of the sudden completely uncomfortable with the emotions pouring out of her and Ron both. Both of them rarely bared themselves metaphorically, like this, and she could sense it was a strange occurrence for both of them.

"I would die, if I lost you, and never told you… how I feel." Ron's eyes brightened a little and Hermione smiled, tears still running down her face.

And just like that, his lips were on hers again. Every nerve in her body lit up. He kissed her urgently, as if he was a man dying of thirst and she was water. She sat there, unmoving, for a moment, as he kissed her, completely shocked, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hands in his red hair. She didn't know what she was doing and this was perhaps one of the only moves she'd ever made completely on impulse like this. She didn't plan, she didn't analyze, she didn't even think. She just kissed him, and somehow they both ended up horizontal on the wet, muddy yard, kissing each other with more passion than Hermione would've guessed either of them could possibly possess.

Ron broke them apart first and pulled her up, Hermione squealing a little as he did. He looked her in the eyes and took her face in his calloused hands.

"Promise me, Hermione." She looked at him and melted. Did he have any clue what his eyes did to her? She whispered, completely out of breath.

"Promise you what?" His face twisted a little and he looked apprehensive about speaking.

"Promise me that you'll be mine. That you'll put up with me when I'm a complete prat, and yeah, I know I am one. That you won't…" He looked up into the rain as if his words lay in the clouds. "That you won't leave me. Cause I don't know if I could take it if you did." He looked at her, and in that instant, she knew. From the second she'd walked into Ron and Harry's compartment that first year. She'd been destined for him and he'd been molded for her. Their fates lay within each other. And part of Hermione hated it. This was Ron. He was a prat. He treated her like dirt more than she'd ever admit. But just as the sun rose and set each day, this was natural and this was what was supposed to happen.

Hermione kissed him, not passionately, but with the soft tenderness his request warranted.

"Always."

(A/N: Sorry this chapter is long- I promise the next will be shorter. :3 I just couldn't find a good place to end. Reviews make me smile. (: )