Claraowl: Hello, fellow Romione fans! I have returned! I own none of this, except the plot. It takes place after the war, back at the Burrow. Enjoy and please forgive its shortness.
"Hermione?" Ron rolled over, feeling the sheets twisting and turning on the other side of his bed. "Hermione, wake up."
"Hmm?" Hermione blinked, awakening.
"You were having a nightmare," Ron whispered. "You okay?"
"Yes," she replied, turning onto her side, facing him. "Sorry if I woke you up."
"It's okay," Ron said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his own reddening, "I've woken you up enough times."
Hermione smiled, then murmured, "It was nice of your mum to let us stay together. It's good to be trusted."
"Well, we all need a bit of comfort, now, since - since the war," Ron nodded, his voice breaking slightly.
Hermione gazed at his face quietly and slid a bit closer to him, looping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest. "I know."
Ron slipped his arms gently around her waist, pulling her up against him. They were relaxed, being there together; it was their comfort and safe haven. Above that, there was more - a thing called love.
They didn't know - they never would - when exactly they had fallen. It could have been a gradual thing; it could have happened suddenly when they were younger and the thought been pushed away.
Ron shifted one hand from Hermione's waist to her hair, burying his hand in the curls and waves. He smiled slightly, remembering how many times over the years that he had wished he could do this very thing, lie somewhere with her, hold her, and feel her great mass of hair. He loved her, he knew; it had been made frighteningly clear to him over the past year how much he needed her. If she had died…. He squeezed her more tightly than before, shaking the thoughts from his mind.
Hermione brushed her lips lightly over his lower jaw, feeling him shudder. She smiled and ducked her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying the effect she had on him. Over the past year, she had come to know the one she loved more completely. Yes, some parts were still a mystery, but she had some answers; in the last few nights alone, she had learned what he saw before he stabbed the locket. She was well aware of the fact that she could have lost him; she felt his arms tighten around her again and responded, raising her lips to his jaw once more and pressing herself against him more fully.
Thus intertwined, they drifted off to the sweet lands of slumber, unaware of the woman watching them, knowing once and for all that her baby boy had become a man.
"Don't worry, Mollywobbles," came a whisper up the stairs, "they'll take care of each other. We managed, didn't we?"
Turning to face her husband as she made her way back down to their bedroom, she murmured, "We still do."
All was calm in that house that night.
*END*
I'm sorry that was so short, but I hope you liked it! Please review and feel free to point out any mistakes!