DISCLAIMER: JKR has personally told me to go ahead and mess with her world! Thanks, babe! ;-p. Although all the characters are hers, she feels honored that I have made then my own. Lol, big time delusional

N/A: Hi, everyone. This is my first ff, and it's a one shot. I feel the idea is a bit late, but they say better late than never, and at the conception of this story was on time, but I procrastinated very long, i was scrrrred. But I've read some real duesies here and I finally figured mine couldn't be any worse. So here you have it. Feel free to tear me apart in the reviews.

(if I get any reviews)

… I hope!

BITTERSWEET MOMENT

I was again crying.

It seems that's all I ever do. Ever since Professor Dumbledore's death, I can't seem to help it. With Dumbledore gone, what are we to do. It all just seems so helpless to me.

My only source of comfort, surprisingly, or maybe not, has been Ron.

This afternoon, for instance, there I was, crying, in what I thought was a relatively private area of the burrows backyard. I was crying for Dumbledore, but also for Harry and Ginny. It's just so unfair and sad, the fact that Harry feels that they cannot be together, because he would be placing her in danger. I mean, I don't blame him, and I can see his reasoning. But now, they are both so unhappy. And who's to say anyway, that this war will be won, and that they will be able to get back together, after all this pain.

Ginny is just like me, crying all day. In a few days time, when Harry gets here, things will get even worse. Everyone will be trying to comfort him, and Ginny will have no idea whether she should too. And Harry, he will probably not want to take the comfort she can give him, only because he is so afraid for her.

Do you see what I mean? How could I not cry? Everything is too sad, too retch, too horrible.

Then I heard footsteps coming towards me. I knew who it was; he hasn't been far from me for very long lately. I tried to stop crying and dry my tears, but he knew, he always knows.

"Hermione?" he said softly as he drew near me, "What are you doing here? All alone, crying again?"

"Oh, Ron, I can't help it!" I cried even harder, because I was embarrassed that he has caught me like this, way to often.

However, my beautiful Ron only looks at me with a look that mirrors my own pain. He steps closer to me and reaching his arms gently around me, he holds me, just holds me.

I melt into his arms, and let all the grieve I feel continue to pour out. I cry yet harder and cling to him. He in turn holds me tighter, and slowly rocks us side to side. I feel him kissing my forehead repeatedly, brushing my hair aside with his lips.

These actions, this sweetness, brings a lump to my throat and only makes me cry more, because now my thoughts begin to turn to other, more physical thoughts, and that shames me, and scares me.

'You need to stop feeling this way for him,' I reprimand myself. 'If Harry and Ginny can't be together, then there is no way that Ron and I could. Our situations may not be the same, but how could I even think of starting anything with Ron, when there is the very real possibility that one, or both of us, could die.' I sniff and catch my breath. 'Gods forbid!'

But, oh, it feels so right when he holds me! All I can do is cherish these moments, even if it's just him being a good friend, comforting me. He does it so well.

"You wanna walk a little?" He pulled slightly away from me to ask.

And I miss him, but all I do is look into his moistened green eyes and say, "Yes."

He keeps his arms around me and holds me sort of sideways to him, and as we start to walk, he continues to pull me close.

How I wish that this could have been last summer, or even last month. Then I could relish these feelings guilt free.

"You know, Hermione, I think Professor Dumbledore wouldn't be happy if he knew that we were reacting this way to his death!"

"Ron, how could we act any differently? Dumbledore was one of the best human beings that ever lived; he loved everyone, and showed it in so many ways, with little gestures and respect, and trust. And in the end, it was his trust that killed him. How unfair is that? And how scary. If Dumbledore could be so easily fooled and killed, then were does that leave us?" I was reacting overemotionally and very passionately, but I couldn't help it, and I almost felt as if this was exactly what Ron wanted, as he stopped walking and listened to me, the look in his eyes being slightly satisfied, if no less pained.

"I'm not trying to sound selfish, Ron," I continued, "I loved Dumbledore, and I miss him so much. I can't imagine this world without him," I was subbing again, "but that's just it, you see. While he was here, we were safe. All of us, including Harry. And now, there's just no certainty. There's no one to go to now. No one to let us know, that things will get better, because we are good and decent people. And good always wins over evil. Evil took him from us, Ron! Evil is winning!"

"But that is exactly what I mean, Hermione. He would want us to remember that feeling of protection, not from him, but from our own inner goodness. And I think that he would want us to seek that comfort, that protection, we felt from him, in each other," he said quickly when I was trying to catch a breath. He continued before I could interrupt. "I feel just as lost and scared as you. Plus the thought of having to go after Voldemort has been giving me more nightmares than Harry has had this past five years. But I wouldn't have it any other way. There's no way I could ever let Harry do this on his own, and I know that you couldn't either."

He grabs my hand, and looks deeply into my eyes, "And that, right there, is what gives me hope." He let a tear run freely down his cheek. "I think Dumbledore was trying to teach us that all this years. That the bond we share, our friendship, love and respect for one another, that's all we need," he took a breath, "that's all that Harry needs to defeat Voldemort."

I could only stare at him in wonder. If I weren't still trying to control my sniffing and subbing, I would have had an opened mouth, amazed look on my face. When did my Ron get so smart? How did he know just what to say? Did he really feel this way or was he saying it just to comfort me?

I finally realized, I wasn't crying anymore. Also, I realized that the reason I wasn't crying anymore, was that all I could think was "I love you, Ron!"

But, oh my God, I had spoken aloud. Ron looked at me in total surprise. I was mortified.

I turned away from him and started to run away. But he quickly caught me by the hand, and pulled me back to him. And as I reach him, before I knew what he was going to do, he caught my mouth in his, and we were kissing.

I couldn't believe it, Ron was... kissing me. And it was fierce and passionate, as if he has always wanted to do this. He was kissing me, so hungrily that I could feel it to my toes, and could only return.

His kiss was telling me everything I ever wanted him to tell me. In return, I hoped I told him with my kiss how right this was, and how I was never going to let him go.

We parted for breath, finally.

Either of us spoke. Our eyes told each other everything we needed to know, much as our kisses did. It was only a reaffirmation, a visual, to all the feelings and the promises that our kisses had convey.

But the more I looked into his eyes, the more I saw all that could be lost. Horrified by what I saw, I managed to turn around and run.