Author's Note: There will be Deathly Hallows spoilers in this story. That is not to say that this story will stick exactly to the plot of the final Harry Potter installment. The epilogue can be forgotten completely, not that it wasn't good, but Ron would never name his child Hugo.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the characters in the series belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1- What Really Happened When Harry Wasn't Looking

----------------------------------Bill And Fleur's Wedding------------------------------------------

As Viktor had appeared at the wedding, Ron felt the desperate need to pull Hermione aside. This was his chance to talk to her, his chance to set things right. As he pulled Hermione close to him, close enough to hear her heart beat, close enough to feel her hot breath on his chest. For several moments he just held her close, letting them sway to the music, dancing as slowly as they could, taking in every moment of it.

For Ron, dancing with Hermione was a whole new feeling. It wasn't just holding her close; he had done that before when comforting her at Dumbledore's funeral, or the execution of Buckbeak. No, dancing allowed him to be in control, allowed him to lead. Ron never had any authority, not with a best friend like Harry Potter, and a brilliant beauty like Hermione. Ron was the leader, he chose where they moved, how they flowed together.

As they continuously spun in large circles, Ron felt this was the time, the one moment where it was just them. There may have been dozens of other people in the tent, but no one could separate Ron and Hermione.

"'Mione?" Ron mustered, barely speaking loud enough for the curly haired witch four inches from his body to hear him.

"Yes, Ron." Hermione had taken her face out of his chest, now leaning her head up to look into Ron's eyes.

"It's just that, well, I've never been able to tell you something. And it's ripping, tearing my insides apart. I can't take the risk of you not knowing, because nobody knows what will happen as we enter the search for the horocruxes and the war. I just have to tell you. 'Mione, I, I, I……" his voice was faltering as he went on in his little speech.

"Ron, don't worry you can tell me anything. Unless it's that you are a Death Eater, because then I'll never…" Hermione giggled slightly and her bright white smile was enough to bring it out of Ron.

"Hermione, I love you." Ron said strongly, but still in a hushed voice, so none of the drunken reception guests would hear him.

Hermione's smile fell off of her face. Her eyes stared blankly at him, and Ron felt like the world was crashing down on him. Ron closed his eyes and released his tense breath, he looked down at his shoes. Hermione felt a rushing pang of guilt, and realized what was going through Ron's head. This isn't what she though at all, she felt the same way Ron did but, she was just completely in shock that he had come out with it now. She took her hand off of his shoulder and Ron just knew that she was pulling away from him, running away from him. Hermione proved him wrong.

She took her hand to his chin and tilted it up, knowing he would have to open his eyes and look at her. His crystal blue eyes were full of a fear she had never seen from him. Ron had faced danger and put his life on the line so many times but she had never seen him this sincerely worried. She felt even worse than she had a few seconds ago. Even in her four inch heels, Hermione's face was only level with Ron's collarbones, so she used his shoulders to pull herself to his face. Ron looked away, and therefore he was completely in shock when he felt her soft lips graze over his cheek.

-----------------------------------Number 12 Grimmuald Place-------------------------------------

Harry had left the room to do whatever it was he did when he disappeared. It was like every moment between Ron and Hermione were alone, Ron shied away from her as soon as Harry left from talking distance. Ron went to fiddle with his clothes as he faced a wall. Hermione let out a long needed sigh and knew it was time for her to speak up. Neither of them had spoken to one another about anything besides the horocrux hunt since their dance at the wedding reception.

"Ron, we've got to talk about this. You haven't looked at me in days, you won't even breathe near me. Ron, I hate what has come between us, and I don't even know what it it!" she let it out all in one breath, sucked another long breath in, and suddenly crumpled to the ground and burst into a fit of tears and ragged breaths. Ron turned around and quickly brought himself to her level, holding her shaking body in his arms, just as he had at Dumbledore's funeral. Ron had seen Hermione cry before, but she always kept herself composed. He had never seen her fall apart like this, and he wasn't sure he knew how to handle it.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen like well this. I can't stand not being able to talk to you, but please, oh please 'Mione don't cry." Ron could barely get the words out, as he felt each syllable choking him, tensing in his throat.

She sobbed even harder and curled herself completely within the shield created by his large chest and open arms.

"I'm…I'm scared Ron. I can't handle seeing you everyday, knowing how much you mean to me, how big a part of me you are, and not knowing what will happen to us. We're in a war and we may never see one another again. Every moment I have to think to myself, this could be the last time I ever see you. I hate this!" She seemed to be shuddering more than she had before she told Ron how she felt, which he hadn't expected to be possible. Ron pulled her entire body into his lap and squeezed her as tightly as possible, rocking their bodies trying his hardest to reassure her without having to search for the words he knew had escaped him the moment he heard her heart shattering tears hit the wrinkled blue material of her blouse.

After what felt like hours of holding her quivering body, Ron had stopped his rocking and noticed that Hermione's breathing was steadier and he could no longer feel the splashing of tears on his hands. What he did feel was a small hand wrapped within his, holding on tight enough to show it hadn't been by accident. He could feel her hands were thin and delicate but they had also been roughened by living in such strange conditions. Her thumbs were stained with the ink of the books she "so desperately clings to" in the words of Trelawney. Ron realized that these hands that flipped the pages of so many books had gotten him out of so many sticky situations.

Ron knew at this moment that these were the hands that he wanted to hold forever, the hands he wanted to slip that small gold band on, the hands he wanted to carry his small children, the hands he wanted to hold in his in their last moments. He pulled her slowly out of his lap and put her in her sleeping place but couldn't bring himself to detach them. He laid down on the cold ground next to her, squeezing her hand in his and quietly whispered

"I'm not going anywhere 'Mione, don't worry I'm not going anywhere"