An emotional one shot that came to me, born of a post of James' and Lily's grave. It occurred to me that both Harry and Hermione had seen their graves, but that Ron had not. Originally, this was a trio fic, but then the Romione crept up on me, and I had to bring in Ginny.

The snow crunched beneath their boots as they came upon the graveyard. Ron, suddenly nervous, looked behind them at the three paths of footprints in the blanket of white behind them. He then looked at Hermione's hand clasped in his and couldn't help but smile. From that he drew strength and looked up at his best mate.

Harry stood just before the entrance to the kissing gate, his hand resting on part of the fence. His gaze was fixed over them, on some point on the horizon. At least Ron thought that until he saw Hermione looking too. He traced their gazes to a kind of obelisk, a war memorial. He frowned. He couldn't see anything overly interesting about it. He looked again at both his best friends' faces and was suddenly possessed with an intense curiosity. He dropped Hermione's hand and walked toward the memorial, shocked as it materialized anew before him as a statue. A man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms dominated Ron's vision for a full thirty seconds.

Distantly, he heard footsteps behind him.

"That's us." Said Harry's voice. "Me, mum, and dad. The villagers erected it here after what happened, as a memorial to my parents."

"It's a memorial to you, too, Harry." He heard Hermione's voice say.

Ron's blue eyes traced the three figures intricately for a time before he looked behind him. "It's a memorial to everything you lost, Harry. Everything your parents died fighting for. It's a memorial to everything we'll have." He hadn't noticed when he'd began walking forward, but suddenly he and Harry were face to face. The brothers shared a long look, and then, a sniffle caught both their attentions.

Hermione had tears in her eyes.

The young men looked at each other again, and both of them laughed.

"Aw, 'Mione, it's alright –"

"Ron, I really do hate that nickname!" She spoke, only half-hearted in her protest, a watery smile on her face.

Bending only slightly, Ron stage whispered, "I find that very hard to believe given the events of last night."

Hermione blushed, and, indeed, Ron's own ears turned scarlet.

Harry made a face. "This is supposed to be a somber occasion! I don't need to know about your guys' sex life. The fact that I even know you have a sex life is enough!" But he was grinning in his protests.

Ron grinned back and put his arm around Hermione. "You do the same with my baby sister." He then realized what he'd said and he made to backtrack quickly, "That is, don't do that to my baby sister! Don't even go near here! Write each other, you guys—"

Hermione had begun giggling sometime during his spheal, and the sound plastered a goofy smile on his face.

Ears still burning, he muttered, "Let's just go then."

Harry grinned and led the way, and Hermione took his hand again.

They again approached the kissing gate. Harry went inside, but Ron hesitated. Hermione had gone a bit rigid. He looked down, and she appeared troubled. She was biting her lip. "What-?"

"Ron, Hermione? You alright?" Harry called back from a couple metres away.

Ron nodded. "We'll be along! What's wrong?" He added in an undertone, concern etching his features.

She wouldn't meet his gaze. What Ron had thought was the cold nipping at her cheeks he now realized was a blush. "Oh, Ron, I know we're doing this so you can see the graves too and that it's supposed to be somber and that we should be here for Harry, but we're together now and all I can think about—" She trailed off, her face now scarlet.

Ron grinned.

She still wouldn't meet his eyes. She said in the smallest voice, "It is a kissing gate, after all."

He gently tipped her chin up and put his lips on hers. She smiled against his mouth and he pulled away. Hermione took his hand again, and they walked in together. They passed several graves, Ron was shocked to the see the Dumbledore's and the Peverells' and even the Abbotts', before Harry stopped at a headstone etched in white marble not too far from the Dumbledores'. In fact, Ron's first impression was of Albus Dumbledore's own white marble tomb at Hogwarts, but then the names caught his attention and he was snapped back to the present.

JAMES POTTER LILY POTTER

BORN 27 MARCH 1960 BORN 30 JANUARY 1960

DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981 DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Ron's eyes moved over them slowly. Harry stepped forward and placed his hand on the headstone, right in the space between his mother's and father's names. Ron swallowed painfully when Harry sank down to his knees.

"These are my parents, Ron. On this day, seventeen years ago, they gave their lives to protect mine."

Words found Ron. He, too, knelt, with Hermione. "You did them proud, mate."

Harry nodded.

A small pop sounded behind them, and all three whirled around, hands reaching for their pockets. Pocketing her wand was one Miss Ginny Weasley, throwing all of them any easy grin. She went straight to Harry and knelt right next to him, one of her hands on his face, their eyes locked.

Ron and Hermione got up and walked away. "I wonder if that's how awkward people feel around us."

Hermione laughed softly, pressing herself against Ron. "Probably."