I must confess, Romione is my most favorite couple in all of literature. That's not to say that there aren't many other EPIC couples. They're simply my favorite, though this is my first time writing for them. I love fics that center around Ron - especially when an appearance is made from one of his many fantastic family members. I just have a giant love for anything Weasley.

For those of you that have left amazing comments on and followed my Sons of Anarchy fic It Begins Again - I'm so sorry that I abandoned it. I've never not finished a fic before and it sticks in my craw terribly. I want to say that I will remedy that someday and remove the blight that is that unfinished piece of work from my repertoire, but the final season of the show coincided with my writing of that story and it absolutely killed my muse. In the meantime, all I can say is thank you from the bottom of my heart for your incredible feedback about the story and for favoriting it.

I've been hiatus for years now and it feels so good to be back to writing again. I hope to write much, much more. Thank you in advance for reading!

Ron stared out at the crashing waves, the frigid March sea breeze whipping his overlong hair across his forehead. As far as he knew, everyone in the house had finally fallen into a fitful sleep. The kind of sleep that claimed you once the body was too exhausted to fight it anymore, not because the mind had found any kind of peace.

He was exhausted, mentally, physically, spiritually and emotionally, yet somehow that sleep just couldn't find him. As much as he knew he should feel relief, or hope, or some other bullshite emotion, all he could feel was the way the jagged stone walls of that bloody basement had felt against his fingertips. The way they'd shredded and broken his fingernails and grated his knuckles. All he could hear was her screaming.

He winced as his mind replayed it again - the dank, moldy smell of their prison as he'd screamed himself hoarse in panic. His horror at her screams. His desperation for them not to stop.

The entire thing was a surreal memory in his mind's eye. Most of it was a blur, but then there'd be a piece - a moment - that stood out with needle sharp clarity. The feeling of trying with every bit of magic he had inside of him to apparate without his wand. The vision of LeStrange holding that knife against her neck.

"You've gotta let it out, little brother. I know you. You keep this inside much longer and you're gonna crack and then Merlin help us all."

Ron jumped as the sound of Bill's voice ripped him from his cycling thoughts. He'd been so lost in his torment, that he hadn't heard his oldest brother come up behind him at all.

"Did you have to sneak up on me like that? You almost gave me a fucking heart attack, Bill."

"Sure, blame me. The sound of footsteps alludes you, but I bet if Fleur started a fry up in there you'd hear it all the way back at Hogwarts."

Ron stared back toward the sea, unable to crack even the tiniest smile at his brother's attempt to lighten the mood. Bill. His oldest brother. His first idol. The first one that he could never live up to in a long line of brilliant, barmy brothers that the entire wizarding world seemed to love and admire. His presence soothed and shamed him at the same time. Having him here meant safety. It meant calm. It meant family - people who knew him like no one else.

It also meant that he'd failed, again, to take care of business on his own. He'd failed to keep them safe - the other part of his family who he'd lay his life down for just as readily as if they'd been his own blood. Failed to keep them whole. Being with Bill meant that somehow, something had gotten so royally buggered that they'd needed refuge. The part of Ron that was a man now wanted to take charge, tell Bill he was sorry for the intrusion, that everything was under control and they'd be leaving in the morning - no need to "let it out" as he'd so delicately put it.

The baby brother part wanted big Billy to kill all the spiders while he hid under the covers and never came back out.

As the silence stretched out between them, he felt, rather than saw, Bill take a seat beside him on the very log Ron had been sitting on since the moment he'd walked back out to the beach after Fleur had ejected him from Hermione's room at wand point.

Dobby's funeral had done Hermione in. She'd been so brave. So strong. But when the last of the dirt had covered that elf and they'd all made their way back to the cottage it was as if she'd lost every last bit of her strength and she'd swayed right in the threshold. Ron had reached out and caught her instantly, scooping her up beneath her head and legs and stormed upstairs to the room Fleur had treated her in when they'd first arrived - the paleness of her complexion making her bruises and cuts stand out sharply.

The roaring had started in his ears again - the same one that had begun in that bloody basement as he'd twisted his body desperately, hoping against hope that shear will alone could get him to her. Could save her.

He'd stormed into the room and refused to let her go, clutching her to him as he sat on the side of the bed, rocking her with his eyes glued to her face.

"Ron…Ron, you must let 'er go. Let me tend to 'er." Fleur's voice came to him, calm and measured, as if from far away as she'd tried to reach for Hermione, her hands going to the younger witch's forehead and then to her neck to check for a pulse.

"Ronald, please, put 'er down so I may 'elp 'er."

He had started to shake. His body was trembling like a leaf on the Whomping fucking Willow. He understood that Fleur was trying to help Hermione, but he couldn't stand the idea of putting her down. It was like his body was on autopilot, his mind having retreated somewhere past reason and logic to protect the little sanity he had left to cling to after everything they'd just been through. He knew he needed to do as he was asked. Instead, he gripped her tighter. The roaring grew louder.

"Beel!"

Ron was vaguely aware that his sister-in-law's voice sounded frightened, that his brother's footfalls could be heard coming up the stairs, but as far as he was concerned, he'd spent enough time watching people take this girl - this woman - away from him. He'd watched it when she'd been petrified in second year. Watched as sodding Krum had moved with her in his arms at the ball. He'd watched her take a curse in the Department of Mysteries, watched as she'd gone off to Sluggie's sodding party with that git Mcclaggen in sixth.

He'd watched as his mind tore itself to shreds with visions of Harry getting to be with her, watched as it tricked him into thinking she'd chosen him as he apparated away from them both. He'd watched as a bitch with a knife and a wand had singled her out, no matter how he'd begged to go in her place.

"Ronnie, put her down."

"No."

It had come out on a growl. Didn't they see? He couldn't put her down. He couldn't walk away from her again. Not again.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

Slowly, Ron raised his eyes to Bill's and the older man's heart nearly stopped at what he saw. His kid brother wasn't here anymore. This was a man, a desperate, cornered man and the look he saw in those clear blue eyes promised pain to anyone who dared try and come between him and what was his. With a jolt, Bill realized that what was his, in this instance, was most definitely Hermione Granger.

It seemed at the same time that Bill saw the dangerous glint in Ron's eyes, apparently, so had Fleur.

"Do not make me."

The calculated tone of her voice tore Ron's concentration from Bill and he glanced her way in time to see her level her wand on him - its tip pointing steady and true - directly between his eyes.

The older couple watched with nearly palpable relief as some sanity seemed to creep back into Ron's eyes. He rose slowly, never taking his eyes off of the wand holding him dead to rights, and laid the fragile, broken girl in his arms gently down on the bed. Heart hammering in his chest, he knew he was on the very precipice of utterly losing his shit, but he held it together long enough to brush Hermione's hair out of her face. Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, another to her temple.

"I won't be far Hermione. I'm not leaving you. I'll never leave you again, love." He'd said it so softly that he was barely audible, but Bill's eye's still widened slightly at the tenderness in his voice. He didn't have much time to dwell on it though as his younger brother straightened and strode purposefully from the room without a second glance at either of them. Bill let him go without a word. If he was still the same boy, er man, that Bill had known his entire life, he would need a few minutes to collect himself before Bill followed him out.

Which was why he was content to wait it out on this log, overlooking the crashing waves, for as long as it took for Ronnie to finally crack. You couldn't rush him, everyone knew that. At least, not unless you wanted either a wisecrack for an answer or a giant explosion of temper.

"I love her."

Bill turned to look at Ron in shock at what had to have been the last thing that he'd been expecting to hear. There was no mistaking what he'd said. The younger man's voice was raw, barely a whisper, but the words had met Bill's ears loud and clear, even as Ron's gaze remained locked on the water in front of them instead of meeting his brother's stunned gaze.

For a second, Bill thought that was all he was going to say. But then Ron looked down at his hands and continued in the same raw whisper he'd started with.

"We're on a mission. Dumbeldore's. It's fucked up, I mean, I'm not even sure he didn't go completely mental right at the end and send us on a wild goose chase. All the same, we're on a mission and I'll do what I have to do to help Harry. But Bill, so help me, I won't ever watch someone take her from me again."

Bill watched as Ron's hands clenched into fists on his thighs so tight that his knuckles were white in the moonlight.

"I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever I have to. I'll never let anyone hurt her again. Never again."

The skin on the back of Bill's neck prickled uneasily at Ron's words and he found when he tried to speak, his own voice came out a rough whisper. "What are you saying?"

Ron turned his gaze to his brother's and the older man's heart clenched as he saw his large, blue eyes swimming in tears. For just a moment he felt completely out of his depth. Ron didn't cry, at least not right in the open for anyone to see. But, if seeing tears in his eyes stunned him, his choked voice cause Bill's own eyes to prickle dangerously as he spoke again.

"I'll die, Bill. I'll die for her before I let anyone get to her again. I'd rather lay down my life than live one without her."

His breaths were coming out in barely stifled sobs now and Bill fought like hell to keep his own emotions at bay as he watched his brother struggle for composure and lose.

"I can't. I'm not strong enough to watch it again. I'll run fucking mad, Bill. I have to protect her and I don't care what I have to do. I don't care! I'm so bloody in love with her I can't breathe. I can't breathe, Bill!"

His composure had crumbled completely and Bill crushed him against his chest in a bear hug, rocking him as he had when he was a child and one of the twins had been particularly cruel in their tormenting of him. Except, he wasn't a child anymore and this heartache wasn't over having his chocolate frogs stolen.

Ron sobbed heavily into his brother's chest, not fighting the comfort being offered. He'd had to be strong for Hermione, had to keep his head as he got her here after nearly bloody losing her forever. He'd had to be strong for Harry as they buried another person that had laid down their life to protect the Chosen One. He had no strength left.

Bill clutched him tightly, the smell of his baby brother still reminding him of home and love despite how utterly fucked to hell the world was now, and murmured softly into the flaming red hair that so matched his own.

"I know, Ron. I get it. It's going to be alright, you just have to keep your head. We all have to just keep our heads. We're going to win this, we can't fall apart."

They held each other as if their lives depended on it. Then, after a few minutes Ron seemed to gather enough of his composure to pull away. His tears had slowed, though Bill noted that they hadn't entirely stopped.

"Sorry. I feel like a right ponce about now. You can go in, I'll be fine."

Bill felt his lips curve into a tiny smile, the first he could remember in he didn't know how long. There was the little brother he knew. Embarrassed as all hell to show that he had human emotions. Lots of them.

"It's fine, Ronnie. You don't have to feel ashamed for losing your head over a bird, you know. I'd have needed a good threat of hexing myself if the roles had been reversed. And knowing Hermione, she'd have come up with a right creative way to teach me a lesson."

Ron let out a watery chuckle and nodded, rubbing his eyes with his palms before letting his gaze settle back in his lap. Now that the emotional release had finally happened, Bill was less worried. A bottled up Ron was like a time bomb. Once the bomb went off, there was a fairly reasonable bloke left in it's wake. If you ever wanted to have a conversation with him worth anything, it was in these moments after the explosion when he was spent, but his emotions were still near the surface, that you could actually get something meaningful out of him.

"How long have you and Hermione been, you know…"

To Bill's surprise, Ron shook his head forlornly. "We're not."

"But, I thought…I mean… since you've gotten here you've barely left her side. The things you just said-"

"We're not together. Until today she was barely speaking to me after everything that happened before Christmas. She hasn't forgiven me for leaving them, she and Harry. I don't know if she ever will."

Bill didn't need reminding of what Ron was talking about. He'd been here over Christmas, sick with worry and regret over leaving his friends and completely unwilling to talk about any bit of it. He'd been a silent, stoic, brooding shell of himself. Bill suddenly understood.

"She doesn't know how you feel about her?"

Ron shook his head slowly in reply, the anguish in his features obvious even in the dim light. Bill had to fight the urge to shake his own head. These two were both brilliant, capable and unbelievably brave. They were also the two most stubborn and maybe even slightly thick people he'd ever seen. How in Merlin's gouty foot could either of them be so dense? It was obvious to EVERYONE around them how mad they were for each other. They had been for years! Between the fighting and the moping and the pining and the bickering, had they really gotten to this point without either of them being able to pluck up a little courage to admit it? Since he had him talking, Bill decided to dig for some answers. In a world gone crazy, maybe he might be able to straighten these two idiots out, at least.

"When did you figure it out for yourself?"

Ron turned to face him for the first time since his outburst and cocked an eyebrow quizzically at the almost teasing tone Bill had used. "What do you mean?"

Bill smiled slyly. "Well, I mean, we'd all worked out how mad you were over the brightest witch of our age up there ages ago. Hell, you walked around here the Christmas before last when she wouldn't speak to you over the whole Lavender situation like such a love sick wanker I had to threaten the twins with violence to keep them from hexing you."

To Bill's great relief, Ron's lip kicked up slightly to the side in the ghost of a lopsided smile. "Yeah, that was a rough one."

Bill crossed his legs lazily in front of himself. "The way I figure it, you've had a thing for little miss Granger since one very famous and very Bulgarian seeker asked to take her for a spin at the Yule ball."

Ron let out a puff of air and tilted his head back to look up at the moon. "That certainly helped shine a light on it, I won't lie to you."

The older man laughed and crossed his arms over his chest as Ron went on. "Did you know that Hermione was petrified our second year?"

Bill nodded, looking down at his crossed ankles in the sand in front of him. "Yeah, I did."

Ron sat quietly for a minute, gathering his thoughts, before his voice come out softly against the steady waves ahead. "Harry and I were going mental trying to figure out clues without her. She's always the brains, you know? She does the research bit and then we do the fighting and stupid risk taking bit and somehow we come out alright. But, she was petrified. A fucking basilisk roaming the halls of a fucking school petrified her, and that's only because she's so bloody brilliant that she was looking around corners with a mirror." The crooked smile was back at the memory and Bill's heart warmed to see the pride for his girl in his brother's expression.

"Anyway, Hagrid told us to follow the spiders for clues. I wanted her back, Bill. I didn't even hesitate. Harry and I, we went into the Forbidden Forest until we found an acromantula nest so we could get some answers."

Bill's spine straightened as if it had been pulled tight by an invisible wire. "You fucking what?"

This he hadn't known. Either his mum had conveniently forgotten to mention that his youngest brother had met up with a murderous breed of creature, a breed that happened to hail from a species that Ron was utterly and inexorably terrified of - the same year his sister had been possessed by a sodding book - or he was hearing something that very few people knew.

Ron nodded. "It pretty much went to shit from the minute we found them, but I realized that night as I was drifting off in my dorm that I'd just put myself in the middle of my worst nightmare without even blinking. For her. From that moment on, I didn't understand what I was feeling, but I knew that she was mine. On some level she was mine and knew I'd never be okay without her in my life. Back then, I was happy to just call it best friends. I mean, after all, I would've done it for Harry too. At least, that's what I kept telling myself."

He looked out to the sea again and shook his head. "By fourth year I knew that the feelings I had were deeper than friendship, though I still couldn't understand it. By sixth year I knew it was love, though I was so mental about the fact that she couldn't possibly ever fall in love with a wanker like me that I took every chance I could to treat her like shit. And now…" He swallowed thickly and Bill looked away to give him the space to fight for composure.

"Now, it's beyond love. It's beyond me or anything I want or feel. My life - my soul - is hers. I haven't told her because it doesn't matter anymore. I'll be what she wants. Do what she wants. If she wants me as a friend, that's what I'll be. If she want's me as more…fuck, right now I can't even let myself hope for that. As long as I can be part of her life, I'll do it any way I can get."

He was back to clenching his fists in determination again and Bill couldn't help but feel that the air around them was crackling with energy. "I've been stupid. I've hurt her. There's no chance she's gonna want a git like me when she could have her pick of any fucking bloke on earth. But I'm in too deep to ever walk away from her again. That's the only thing I can't do."

Bill sat for a second and waited for Ron to calm back down again. The raw power swirling around him was almost unnerving. He'd never seen him like this before and his intensity was amazing. He'd grown into a right powerful wizard and that knowledge was both impressive and a little unsettling. Bill was the oldest. He was supposed to be the best at everything. The wisest. But, if the magic practically swirling around his little brother was any indication, he was starting to think that a duel between the two of them might be harder won than he'd like.

If there was one thing that he was still confident in his superiority about, however, it was women. After all, he'd married the love of his life less than a year ago after a long and, not to brag, illustrious career of charming the pants off of a witch or two. He knew women. He knew what it was like to find that one woman that outshines them all and how to ensure that you didn't let her slip away. True, Ron had managed to find her far earlier than Bill had, but the end result was the same.

"Ron, I won't pretend to be the sagest wizard in Britain, but I can tell you this. When a bird refuses to speak to you, a bird who's supposedly your best friend, all because you've gotten yourself a girlfriend, she's not on the friend train so much herself either."

Ron turned his face slightly to look at his brother, his expression blank but watchful. Emboldened, Bill continued.

"When you got here tonight and charged up to the house with her, Fleur practically had to pry her fingers apart to get her to let go of you. The way she was looking at you, the way she's clung to you all night. Ronnie, I'd bet my vault that she feels it too. Just as deep and just as real. The fact that you'll be what she needs shows me that you put her needs before your own. That's a good sign. To have a real go at a relationship with someone you need to make their dreams and their happiness your priority along with your own. But, that's a two way street and I guarantee that she's on it - heading straight for you."

Ron looked down at his hands again and had Bill not been so tuned in to him at that moment he would have missed his nearly whispered words completely. "I can't take it if I declare myself and she doesn't love me, Bill. I'm way too in love with her. I can't take it."

Bill shook his head. "Trust what the two of you have, Ronnie. Talk to her. Sooner rather than later. It's a war, brother. Tomorrow isn't a promise."

Clasping his shoulder conspiratorially, Bill rose from the log and stretched. "You know," he said out to the softly rolling waves in front of them, "Mum's not here and the house is pretty full. If you happen to fall asleep in one of the guest rooms instead of the floor in the sitting room with the rest of the blokes, well how am I supposed to keep that all straight?"

With that, the eldest Weasley turned and headed back for the house, completely missing the small blush that deepened in Ron's ears and across his cheeks.

Taking one last look at the sea, Ron got up and stretched himself. His physical exhaustion, coupled with the emotional release he'd allowed himself, had him almost dead on his feet. But somehow, instead of pitching himself nearly face first on the sleeping bag that had obviously been left out for him between Dean and Harry on the floor, Ron felt his feet continue to carry him past his friends and up the stairs to the little guest room down the hall.

The candles had all been snuffed out, leaving only the moon to light the room and he paused in the doorway to take in Hermione's peaceful form as she lay on her side, facing the door. The shape of her nose, the soft rise of her lips, the point of her dainty chin. None of it made his heart pound like the look of her chest rising and falling with deep, calm breaths. She was safe. She was alive.

He toed his shoes off in the doorway to make as little noise as possible and padded gently across the room to the bed, holding his breath as he slowly lowered himself to lay facing her on his side too.

Without fear of being noticed, he allowed himself the indulgence of staring. He wanted to memorize every feature - to burn the burnished caramel color of her skin and chestnut hue of her curls into his memory. Softly, he let his hand float up to touch the curls resting against her shoulder. So soft. So Hermione. If he wasn't going to make it out of this war, in his last moments, the vision of her face and feel of her curls was all he wanted to remember as he went out.

"Are you alright?"

His eyes widened and flew up to hers at her unexpected words as he snapped his hand away from her hair. He watched her lashes flutter softly and then slowly lift so she could return his gaze. Even in the dark he could see her mind was there, undimmed in it's brilliance. She studied his face in the way she usually did, looking for things that he left unsaid. Delving beneath his surface. He almost smiled. That bitch could try and break her body, but she'd never be able to break Hermione Granger's mind.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't really asleep."

His brows lowered in concern. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to get Fleur?"

She shook her head against the pillow and then she surprised him by reaching slowly, almost tentatively, forward and taking his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers gently as she stared into his eyes.

"I don't need Fleur. I have what I need. At least, now I do."

Ron's heart pounded behind his ribs. Her hand was warm and soft and so small in his, but so strong all at once. Just like Hermione, he supposed. Suddenly, Bill's words floated through his mind.

Tomorrow isn't a promise.

Years later he'd think back on this moment and still marvel at the fact that he'd had tears left, but they flooded up to his eyes just the same as he scooted closer, lowering his forehead to hers. Her uneven intake of air told him she'd started quietly crying too.

"You're everything I've ever needed, Hermione." Talking in a ragged breath, trying to talk through the lump in his throat, he squeezed her hand in his gently as his words came out rough and filled with longing. "You're everything I… You're everything."

A sound between a sob and a laugh escaped her lips as she squeezed his hand in return. "Please. Please, don't leave me. Stay with me, tonight."

The desperation laced in her words split his aching heart, while simultaneously firming his resolve. He couldn't promise her that they'd win this war or make it through alive. But, this. This he could promise her. With his dying breath, he'd keep this one promise. He squeezed his eyes shut against his tears, his voice a broken whisper.

"I'll never leave you again. I'll be here as long as you want me."

Another sob rent the silence and he dropped her hand so he could gather her in his arms. They lay clutching each other, trying not to think about how close they'd come to never seeing each other again. How close they'd all come to death. He didn't even care that he was openly crying now. She was the love of his life and he'd nearly lost her today. She clutched him in her arms, holding on for dear life. "Forever is a long time, Ronald. "

He buried his face in her hair and allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his lips through his tears at her wonderfully, perfectly bossy tone.

Laying in that bed, holding each other closer than they ever had, they cried for what they'd lost. They cried for what was at stake and they cried for what they'd finally gained. There was no more coldness, no more anger and resentment. There, in the moonlight in the outskirts of Tinworth, there was only love.

There in the moonlight, that was enough.