Disclaimer: I own nothing of course.

Rubble littered the corridors of Hogwarts as Ron Weasley walked slowly into the Great Hall. Since the victory he'd walked in and around the outside of the castle, its walls in ruins and elegance overshadowed by destruction. Some people had left, some had fled before capture, and others had stayed. He kicked a few pieces from the broken stone wall and dragged onward towards his family. He saw that Harry was no longer lingering around and that Hermione was being hugged tightly by his mother. He glanced around the large room and noticed that most families had already left. He winced as he looked, rather apprehensively, at the table where the dead lay. He looked up to see Hermione staring at him through Mrs. Weasley's grip, her expression hopeful, yet sad. He stared back stony faced as images of Fred's lifeless face floated through his mind.

Ron reached his father who was staring down at the floor, his jaw clenched and his eyes swimming with tears. It took Ron everything he had to keep himself from breaking down. There was a great weight settling in his chest with no intention to move and he realized, for the first time, how lucky he was to have such a big family. He had always complained at the lack of money and the old clothing he was forced to wear, but now, after everything the past year, those things seemed so small.

There was a soft shuffling of feet as somebody moved to stand next to him and Mr. Weasley. Ron looked up to see Hermione again, this time staring at her own hands, one of which was clutching her wand. Ron grabbed her free hand and pulled her closer.

"Do you think everyone's going to be alright?" she whispered as she looked at the fallen and their families. Ron was sure that Hermione included him but he had not the faintest idea if he would be alright. He didn't answer and gripped her hand tighter.

"Where do you suppose Harry is?" Hermione asked. Ron continued to stay silent and looked back over to his mother who was smothering a sunken-faced George with her hugs. George's eyes were unreadable as he stared blankly into nothingness. The heavy weight in Ron's chest began to sink lower and lower until it reached his stomach. He felt as if he was going to be sick.

There was a swift movement from across the Hall as three figures walked briskly towards the doors. Ron craned his neck and saw that the people trying desperately not to be noticed were the Malfoys. Nobody besides Ron was paying them much attention and he watched as Lucius and Narcissa led the way to outside while their son, throwing guilty, fleeting glances behind his shoulder, followed. Ron released Hermione's hand and, putting his hand on her back, led her out of the Great Hall and up the staircases.

The walk with Hermione to the seventh floor was short and uneventful. The staircases were still and the usual sounds of students running to class and Peeves teasing mercilessly were absent. The portrait hole was open and Ron and Hermione made their way into the Gryffindor common room. Harry was sitting in an oversized armchair, his back to them, gazing into the empty fireplace. If it wasn't for his black hair peeking over the top of the chair, Ron and Hermione wouldn't have noticed him.

"Harry?" Hermione called to him. Her voice was filled with uneasiness. Harry turned around to face them, his eyes sunken in from lack of sleep and glasses askew, but smiling regardless.

"Feels a little unreal, doesn't it?" he asked. He got up from the chair and circled the room. "I think I can sleep for at least a month."

"I think we all can. Don't you think so, Ron?" Hermione asked gently. Ron looked down at her and smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I think I could use a few years worth actually," he said. "You coming to the Burrow, Harry?"

"If your family will have me, yeah," Harry said sighing.

"Well, you know Mum, she loves you," Ron said smiling. Harry walked by them towards the portrait hole and clapped Ron on the back. He looked slightly more awake.

"We should get down then, I reckon. See if there's anything to help with, see Ginny and all that," Harry said absentmindedly. He caught Ron's eye. "And you know, anyone else," he added quickly.

"Yeah, we'll meet you down there," Ron said back. Harry stepped out of the portrait hole and, by the sounds of his footsteps, almost ran down the stairs.

"Be careful, Harry!" Hermione called to him. Her raised voice was deafening in the silent room.

"Be careful?" Ron asked. "Hermione, it's not like Voldemort's going to jump out from behind a suit of armor." Hermione rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"Yes, I know Ron. It's only out of habit; you don't have to laugh about it." She walked to the center of the room and sighed. "It's really over, isn't it?" She looked back at Ron who was looking out one of the circular room's windows. When he didn't answer, she made her way towards him. "Ron?" she whispered. "Is everything alright?" He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I was so scared, Hermione," he said quietly. "I thought, maybe, one of us was going to die." He heard Hermione sniff into his shirt. "At times, I couldn't even see you and all I could think of was that, that—"

"Stop," Hermione said firmly. She had pulled herself away from him and looked into his face. Ron was careful to avoid her gaze. "You can't be thinking like that anymore. Stop." Her pleading made Ron look at her fully for the first time in what seemed like weeks. The war had put the majority of their lives on pause and Ron was beginning to appreciate the luxury of wasting away seconds to just look at her. Any time together was stolen from them and even though Harry was his best mate, he found himself wishing on numerous occasions that he and Hermione could have some privacy.

He leaned in and brushed her hair out of her face. Hermione toyed with the front of his shirt with her fingertips before moving closer to him. Ron was an inch away from kissing her before the portrait hole swung open again. They both jumped back at the sight of Harry who was panting as if he'd just run up and down seven flights of stairs.

"Your Mum says we're going to leave and get some rest. And then tomorrow, everything is going to be, well, sorted out." Harry looked upset as he said this, no doubt thinking of those dead. Ron gulped, his mind wandering back to Fred and everyone else. He nodded and Hermione mimicking him and they followed Harry downstairs, rather reluctantly.

When they reached the rest of his family a million questions came into Ron's head. Where would they bury Fred? Would there be a mass funeral? Who would rebuild the castle? And, this being a slightly disturbing thought, where did some of the escaped Death Eaters go? Ron walked his mother out of the castle; Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Fleur close behind. His father was somewhere that seemed like miles away from him, with Charlie, George, Bill, and Percy, surrounding Fred's body. Ron didn't want to know what they were talking about. He didn't even want to look anymore and hastily urged the rest of his family onward.

Past the Hogwarts gates, Ron gripped Hermione's hand. A sobbing Mrs. Weasley clutched Ginny's arm and Harry held onto her free one. Ron turned on the spot, his mind on the Burrow and the rustling field surrounding his home. Before the world swirled away in a blur, he caught sight of his mother, still crying, holding on to Ginny who was hand in hand with Harry, who, at the last moment, caught Fleur's arm ("'Arry, wait!") and Apparated.

Ron landed in the grass and stumbled over, toppling to the ground with Hermione. He quickly got to his feet and brushed off his knees and pulled a blade of grass from Hermione's hair before seeing Mrs. Weasley and the rest appear a few feet away from him. Together they walked the short distance to the Burrow's front door and hurried inside. Ron threw himself onto the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. He felt Hermione standing over him, running her hand along the top of his hair and then combing her fingers through it.

"I think we should all be getting to- to- bed," Mrs. Weasley stammered. Her eyes were momentarily dry as she looked upstairs. "I'll wait for Arthur and the others." Ginny was the first to speak to her.

"I'll wait with you, Mum," she said. "And Harry, we'll wait."

"No, no," Mrs. Weasley half sobbed. Her eyes were glistening again. "No, Ron will take Harry upstairs to his room and you take Hermione. I'll be fine." She choked on her last statement and went over to Harry and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. Harry blushed and stared at the floor.

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny whispered as she led him upstairs. "We'll come back down later." Harry followed Ginny to Ron's room and Fleur, noticing the tension, went into the kitchen muttering something about tea. Ron and Hermione walked up the stairs as well.

"Later on I'll check on my mum," Ron told her when they reached Ginny's door. "And then, if you're still awake, maybe we can, you know…" he stopped as he searched her face for answers. She nodded at every word. "…talk."

"Yes, okay," Hermione said quietly. She reached up and kissed Ron on the cheek and went into Ginny's room, shutting the door behind her. Ron felt immensely hot where she had kissed him and went further up the stairs into his room where Harry was already laying on a cot.

"Why are your ears so red?" Harry asked. He glanced up at Ron and went back to examining his newly repaired wand. Ron plopped down on his bed, feeling nauseated at the sight of so much Chudley Cannons orange. He laid down and faced Harry.

"I was just talking to Hermione about things," he said. Harry looked at him skeptically.

"Shouldn't you be used to this sort of thing by now?"

"You'd think I would be." Ron rolled over and closed his eyes, waiting for Harry to start snoring. He felt strangely alone without Hermione in the same room with him. Here was Harry, years away, free from Voldemort or any prophecy. But here he was, on his familiar bed with the death of Fred on his mind and a warm Hermione far away in another room.

Ron pictured Hermione in his head and felt his eyelids grow heavier as he tried to pry them back open. He was falling into a sleep he didn't want to wake up from. Tomorrow morning would be even harder and he didn't know how he would be able to handle it.

Ron dreamt that he was back in Grimmauld Place. The floor creaked as he paced up and down the dingy kitchen and Kreacher scurried under him, offering bowls of stew. The door opened and in walked Harry, his arms full of Galleons and instead of sporting his black round glasses, he had on Percy's horned rimmed spectacles.

"What in the name of—" Ron started to say before Harry shoved Galleons into his hands.

"Well, I've done it!" Harry exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Kreacher began tugging on Ron's sleeve and balancing a bowl of stew on his other hand.

"Done what?" Ron asked incredulously. "Robbed Gringotts, have you?"

"No! I've turned myself in," Harry said joyously. "And now we're rich!"

"Are you—are you mad?" Ron asked. He stared at Harry as if he had three heads. Harry put the rest of the money on the floor and started rummaging through the moleskin pouch he had received from Hagrid. "Harry, why would you do something like that?"

"Oh, well, you know, this is getting a bit old, isn't it?" Harry said absentmindedly. He had put his wand between his teeth and was talking around it as he continued to search for whatever he was looking for. "Go on a mission, face Voldemort, some ridiculous twist in the end, face Voldemort again." He pulled out the fake Horcrux locket and threw it over his shoulder.

"But you can't just turn yourself in for gold!"

"Aha!" Harry pulled out the Marauder's map and after tapping it with his wand, inspected it closely. He skipped over to where Ron was (who was still standing with his mouth hanging open, shocked) and pointed to a spot on the map. "See here?" He jabbed at it with his wand. "That's Voldemort and he's in the Great Hall right now," he said. "For breakfast, of course," he added as Ron turned to look at him confusedly. "And I'm meeting him there at noon."

"You're—you're meeting him there?" Ron stuttered. Kreacher began to dance around Ron's feet and shove the stew into his elbows as Ron rubbed his temples wearily. From another room came Hermione in her dressing gown. She stopped and stood before Ron and Harry and began tapping her foot.

"What on earth is going on here?" she asked. Her hair was far bushier than it had been in years and her voice far bossier. She was wearing her S.P.E.W. badge on the front of her gown and looked as stern as Professor McGonagall.

"Harry's gone and turned himself in!" Ron appealed to her. He waved his arms maniacally in Harry's direction as though he was not sure Hermione could comprehend what he was saying. Hermione's frown immediately changed into an ecstatic grin.

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Isn't wonderful Ron?"

"What?" asked Ron. He was completely baffled. "No!"

"We're rich now!" Hermione said. She clasped her hands together in delight and squealed into Harry's ear. By this point, Ron was thoroughly confused at their behavior.

"Have you two gone completely mental? What about the Horcruxes? What about—GET AWAY FROM ME KREACHER OR I'LL NAIL YOUR HEAD TO THE WALL!" he bellowed. Kreacher slouched reproachfully and crept out of sight. Ron ignored Hermione's mouth opening in protest and continued. "What about defeating—" he gulped. "Voldemort?"

"Ron," Harry said sighing. He took off Percy's glasses and began cleaning them with the sleeve of Hermione's dressing gown. "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, you know that." Hermione nodded vigorously. Ron looked back and forth between them, wondering what on earth was going on. He turned around and walked off. It was pointless and infuriating to talk to them. This couldn't possibly be really going on.

"Oh and Ron?" said Hermione. He whipped around to find her staring at him with her eyebrows raised. He had a sudden urge to kiss her, regardless of how insane she was at the moment. "Remember to follow the spiders, will you?" Ron looked at her, annoyed. This was getting ridiculous. He turned around again and proceeded to walk towards the front door.

"Ron?" said Hermione. Ron ignored her and put his hand on the handle. "Ron?"

He turned it and opened the door.

"Ron!"

Ron felt hands on his chest shaking him awake. His eyes snapped open to find Hermione leaning over him, her long hair surrounding her face as she hovered and resembling a lion's mane. He blinked once before realizing she was real. "Hermione, what are you doing?" He rubbed his eyes, thankful that the ridiculous dream he had was over. "And where's Harry?" he asked after looking around.

"He went downstairs with Ginny to check on your mum," said Hermione. She sat on the edge of his bed and Ron scooted over to make room. "No, your dad isn't back yet," she said abruptly as she saw him trying to get up. He laid back down and closed his eyes.

"I had the weirdest dream," he said.

"Oh? What happened?" asked Hermione. She began to move closer to him as he made more room.

"Well, Harry turned himself in to the Ministry for gold and then you two went on about how you'd be rich," he said. Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And Kreacher kept trying to hand me bowls of soup." Hermione smiled serenely and then frowned.

"You did take it, didn't you? The soup, I mean." Ron looked at her flabbergasted.

"That's what you're worried about? Sometimes I have to question what goes on in that head of yours," he said. He leaned further into his pillow and closed his eyes again. He felt the bed shift and heard the old springs creak as Hermione lay down beside him. "It was stupid anyway," he mumbled. He was beginning to feel tired again and opened his eyes in an attempt to stay awake and talk to Hermione. She had turned around, though, and closed her eyes herself. Ron stared at her for a moment before turning to face her and putting his arm around her. It wasn't like the stolen moments before the final battle where he would clumsily comfort her. No, this was much different. He brought himself closer to her and brought his hand down to her waist. He placed his head on her chest and closed his eyes for the last time that night. He could feel her breathing onto his hair and her heartbeat against his ear. Before falling asleep, he felt her arm wrap around to hold onto his back and her legs intertwine with his own.

A/N: So, I've decided to write something Ron/Hermione. It's going to start off slow and I hope it turns out halfway decent. Please review!