A/N: Oh, hello, lovelies! This little ficlet is not-so-loosely based off of the song Sonorous Love by Ministry of Magic. Go take a listen, if you'd like!

Disclaimer: No, sadly, I do not own Harry Potter.

My attempt to sleep is interrupted by a loud clatter that seems to be coming from downstairs. I immediately sit up, listening for further sound. However, it seems to be silent. Wand in hand, I stand up and start slowly making my way downstairs, careful not to make any noise.

As I'm making my way into the kitchen, I see a shadow. But not just any shadow: the shadow of my best friend. Or girlfriend? I'm not too sure yet. Anyway, I put my wand on a table nearby and walk up behind Hermione and put my hand on her shoulder. I expect her to get scared and give some sign of fright, but she doesn't. She knew I was coming.

"I couldn't sleep," she says before I have time to ask a question. She looks up at me for a fraction of a second and resumes rinsing out a mug in the sink.

"Yeah, me neither," I reply, staring at her.

"Why not?" she questions simply, turning off the tap and drying her hands with a towel. She looks at me, locking her eyes with mine.

I was thinking too much. About everything. About Fred, and Lupin, and Tonks, and Death Eaters, and how broken my family is, and about her. But I don't tell her that.

Instead, I shrug. "I don't know."

She narrows her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.

She knows I'm lying.

When I open my mouth to speak, she says, "It's okay, Ron. I understand. You don't have to tell me." The corners of her mouth are tilted upwards into a small, reassuring smile. I know she's being sincere, but I instantaneously feel bad, which is unusual. Since when do I feel remorse for not sharing my feelings or whatever?

"I'm just thinking about.. everything, I guess," I say vaguely and hope it will suffice. She seems to understand as she reaches out and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Me too," she murmurs, reposeful. I swear I see her eyes become watery, but she blinks for a long time and any traces of tears are gone. I go with my instinct and pull her into my arms. The tears I expected never happen, but then again, when does Hermione ever act as expected?

"Can we go for a walk outside?" she asks quietly.

I pull away from the hug a bit to look at her. "Hermione, it's past midnight." I feel like I'm reprimanding a child. She looks thoughtful for a few seconds before she leaves my arms and grabs hold of my hand again, walking ahead of me and practically dragging me outside. I let her, smirking as I catch a glimpse of the determined look on her face.

We're outdoors now, a safe distance from home. A relaxing, cool breeze hits us both. She turns back and smiles at me, her hair blowing with the light wind. She looks, well, beautiful. "It's quite nice out here, isn't it?"

I nod in reply, looking around to observe the area, but mostly to hide the fact that I'd been staring at her.

The only light source is the slight illumination from the moon. She releases my hand and keeps walking forward, and I follow her. When we're finally a far enough distance from the Burrow, Hermione sits down on the grassy ground. She looks up at me expectantly, patting the ground next to her. I sit down as well.

"I thought we were taking a walk," I tell her.

"We did, didn't we?"

I have no reply because she's right, like always, so I simply stay silent. Her hand finds its way into mine again. I start to wonder if it'll be like this forever, her hand in mine.

I wouldn't mind.

I shake the thought from my head, noting that I'm becoming more and more like a female each day.

We're quiet for a while, just sitting down on the ground and looking up at the sky. She thinks I don't notice, but I can feel her gaze on me every so often. I know she can feel mine on her, too, when I find the courage to actually look at her.

"Ron?" she whispers, breaking the silence. I look at her, but she's not looking at me. Her eyes are downcast and fixed on our hands. She grips my hand even tighter.

"Yeah?"

She looks up. Our eyes meet.

"I love you."

I blink quickly, gaping at her. Needless to say, I didn't quite expect that.

I want to protest, to row with her over things that don't matter anymore, to say, 'What about Krum? And McLaggen? Or any of those other blokes?' but nothing comes out of my mouth. Partly because I can't find the words to speak, and partly because I think I've known her true feelings for a while.

But she knows what I was going to say anyway, because she knows me better than anyone else. "There is no other."

I try to say something – anything – but my intended low whisper results in nothing but stammering and stuttering. She smirks cheekily and pulls me closer.

Before I can register what's happening, her lips are on mine and she's kissing me and I'm kissing back.

It seems like we're there for hours before she pulls away. "We should probably go inside," she says, her face a shade of scarlet that I can only dimly see in the moonlight. I don't have to look in a mirror to know that mine matches.

I nod quickly, standing up. It's only then that I notice her hand had never left mine.

We walk back inside, hand in hand, only to be faced with none other than Harry Potter.

"Where have you two been?" he asks, glaring at us. It's only then that I realize it's the first time the three of us had been separated for a prolonged period of time (without letting each other know) since the war ended. "I woke up and Ron was missing, and then I go to Ginny's room because I figure Hermione's in there and you guys have been glued together, but she was gone too." I want to laugh at him because he looks reminiscent of a mother that lost her children for all about two minutes, but Hermione speaks instead.

"We were outside. We both couldn't sleep, so I suggested we take a walk. I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to worry anyone. We were just going to bed," she explains, releasing my hand and heading towards the stairs, presumably on her way to Ginny's room, where mum had been insisting she sleep. I think Harry and I would both prefer different sleeping arrangements, but we weren't going to just say it, were we?

Before Hermione starts walking upstairs, she looks back at the both of us and bids us goodnight.

"Goodnight," Harry and I say in unison.

Then it hits me.

I never said it back.

"Wait!" I exclaim as she's already halfway up the first staircase. She turns around, her cheeks still slightly pink.

I look at Harry, then back at her, then at Harry again. I know I'm going to get the bloody mickey taken out of me for this. Harry's demeanor changes and he covers his ears, a knowing smile on his face.

"I love you too," I say quickly but quietly, my whole face heating up. She smiles, and I catch the smallest glimpse of tears in her eyes as she starts to slowly descend up the stairs. I think they're happy tears, so I don't bother freaking out as much as I should.

"I know," she responds. She disappears and I hear a door close not long after.

I finally look at Harry again, and his ears are uncovered and he's standing there grinning at me.

"Sod off," I say hastily.

He's still grinning at me as he replies, "I'm happy for you two. It's about time."

I reply, "I have no idea what you're taking about," but, in all actuality, I'm thinking, Yeah, I know.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I'm used to writing in past tense and from Hermione's point of view (in the many fics I write for myself and never publish, at least) so this was slightly difficult for me to write. If you see any spelling or grammar issues, let me know! I appreciate everything you all have to say.

Also, completely unrelated, but I was initially writing this on lined paper... and then my roommate found it. I tried to avoid the awkwardness of the situation, guys. I really did.

Thanks for reading! x