Post DH.

One week after the battle.

The burrow was unusually silent, Ron had never remembered it to be this quiet his whole life, being the youngest of the Weasley sons, the sound of giggling and childish farting noises coming from his older brothers Fred and George was a typical day at the Weasley household. A day hadn't gone by when his mother, Molly Weasley was a victim of one of their jokes, she had always reacted in a not so impressed manner, but Ron could always tell she was actually quite impressed and proud of her twins. From the moment they could talk, they were probably already planning on opening their own magical jokes shop...and they managed to achieve that dream the previous year.

Ron sighed as he suddenly realised that dream was theirs no longer, he couldnt remember the last time he had seen his brother George smile, not that he was expecting any of his family to manage any sort of happy expression these days, he had somehow relied on George to break the particularly gloomy mood that had floated around like a ghost the family's home since the battle at Hogwarts. Ron couldn't imagine how things could ever improve from here on, only a week had passed and that moment when he had saw Fred's limp body frozen on the floor hadn't left him, and he was sure that it never would leave him.

The only sound that could be heard was the soft ticking noise from the weasley family clock which had been in the kitchen since Ron could remember each of his family's names and faces were positioned on the clocks face, and each of them had one of the clocks hands pointing to a location. Molly Weasley had always treasured the clock, nobody she knew owned one like it and she felt particulary proud of owning it, not only proud...but she felt relieved to know that the clock could reveal to her where her family were, she needn't have worried about their whereabouts as she was always notified when each were on their way home, or at Hogwarts, or travelling. Only in the past year did each of the Weasleys location on the clock point to the same location every day, due to the return of he who should not named, Lord Voldemort. Each of the weasleys were in danger each day, along with most other people. Each of the weasleys clock hand had pointed to Mortal Peril for an entire year, until Lord Voldemort was killed. In a battle with Harry, Ron's best friend.

Ron looked at the clock now, all hands pointed to 'Home', apart from his brother Fred's who was still pointing to Mortal Peril, he was not home with his family...he was instead sleeping peacefully, Ron hoped. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of Fred's face, eyes closed, with that mischievous smile he always had. Ron got up from the chair he had been sitting in for what felt like hours, he was dreading tomorrow morning like most of his family were, he was sure he would not be able to sleep a wink tonight. He hadn't slept more than an hour each night for the past week, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

It had just turned 9pm, as far as he knew his parents were in their bedroom, no doubt consoling each other as both of them had been sporting a brave face for the past week, for the sake of the children that they still had. He hadn't seen Harry since dinner, but he would when he went to bed as they were still sharing a room, at night they would talk quietly about what had happened, it seemed they were the only people in the house who wanted to talk about it, needed to talk about it. Harry still blamed himself for Fred's death, and for Tonks and Lupin. He had always imagined the day when Voldemort could no longer get to him or to his friends, and that day had always been a happy and triumphant one, not like this. Harry had even suggested to go back to Privet Drive to his Aunt and Uncle, who were back home now after being notified the battle was over. Never had Harry wanted to go back to live with them, but each day he felt guilt when he looked at Mr and Mrs Weasley. Ron had reassured Harry that whether it seemed like it or not, Ron's parents needed Harry in their home as much as they needed their own children right now. Harry had agreed, for now. But had warned Ron that he would maybe leave in a few weeks, alone. He still hadn't had time to digest the fact that his life as he had always known it, as the boy who lived would no longer be the same. At the moment, Harry didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

Ron climbed the stairs, he opened his own bedroom door slightly to see what Harry was up to, but he couldn't spot him anywhere.

"I think he's with Ginny..." He heard a familiar voice say. Hermione was stood behind him, dressed in her pyjamas with folded arms. She looked so cute, Ron thought to himself.

"Oh right..." Ron muffled. This might have been the most they had spoken all week.

"I checked on him earlier...as I was looking for you, Ginny was with him in your room."

Ron looked unimpressed, but didn't have the energy to even care about that sort of thing right now.

"What have you been doing all evening?" Hermione asked him, now hugging herself. She had moved slightly closer to him, close enough to let him know she was there for him. Ron shrugged, "nothing much. Thinking about stuff...you know".

Hermione nodded. "I know...I've been thinking too. About a lot of things actually. I'm thinking of going back to my home....even if my parents aren't there" she told him.

"Look Hermione, I've told Harry the same thing I'm going to tell you....you are a part of the family now. This is the best place for you to be....with us...." he stopped and gave her a reassuring look, "with me". He added.

She looked surprised, but relieved at the same time that Ron needed her. She had been worrying all week that she was intruding at the worst time, and she had also wondered whether Ron had even found time to think about the kiss they had shared during the battle. She daren't ask him, he had enough on his mind and she didn't expect anything else. "Ok...I'll stay. But at some point..."

"Yeah.." Ron nodded, already knowing what she would say. He knew, like Harry that she would need to go back to where she lived, but that time wasn't now. For now, they must face the hard times together. "Listen...Hermione...I just want to thank you for...well....everything really" he blushed.

She smiled, and edged a bit closer to him so their bodies were inches away. "You don't have to thank me. We've been through everything together...and you've helped me too". She touched his arm gently, in a friendly way. She didn't want to come across as more than that right now.

But to her surprise, Ron responded by grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing it, "Things will get better...won't they?" He asked her, with a look of desperation in his eyes. She couldn't stand seeing him this hurt, she didn't know things would get better anytime soon but still, she responded. "Yes Ron...they will. Just give it time...all we need is time".

They both looked at each other again, knowingly. Time was a tricky thing, for anything.

"You know...I haven't forgotten you know....about...you know" Ron murmured.

She smiled. "Well I should hope not Ronald..." she joked, and she smiled. He managed a smile too, the first in a while. If anybody could make him smile, it was her. "We'll talk...yeah" He continued.

"Yes....when the time's right" She said, and before she could carry on. Ron pulled her towards him, and they hugged...for what felt like an eternity. At that very moment, they both realised how much they needed each other. "I better go to bed.." Hermione whispered, after minutes of silence.

He let go of her, "right...bed....yeah" he said, he had totally lost himself in their embrace that he had almost forgotten he needed an early night for tomorrow. He knew tomorrow would be tough, probably the toughest he would ever have in his life. "I'll see you at breakfast..." she said, before walking up the few steps from the landing by his bedroom, into her and Ginny's room where she expected Harry to be with Ginny. For a moment, Ron thought about inviting her into his room, he felt much too lonely to sleep all night. But she had already closed the door before he could even ask...maybe it wasn't the best of ideas anyway he thought. He walked over to his bed, fell onto it, he was exhausted but he just couldn't bring himself to sleep. He opened up a book that was on his bedside table, he didn't recognise it as his own but he started to read it anyway. Before he had read

a sentence, he had fallen asleep. He had underestimated how tired he was.

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