Ron sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair for the hundredth time that day.

So much fighting, so much death, and it was suddenly over. It was difficult to grasp, if he was being honest. For much of his life, the wizarding world lived in fear of a name and its diabolical possessor. And it was Ron's own best friend who put an end to it all, willing to sacrifice his life for the greater good.

He hadn't seen Harry in hours. Ron had sat with the rest of his family, mourning the loss of Fred. Hermione had remained by Ron's side the entire time. He vaguely remembered hearing Harry say he was going to look for Kingsley and McGonagall, but he had been too wrapped up in grief to notice. Eventually, Mrs. Weasley suggested everyone freshen up and go to bed. Ron was hesitant to leave Fred, but Hermione squeezed his hand, telling him a hot shower would do him some good.

"What about Harry?"

"Don't worry. Ginny is off to find him."

Ron took his time in the shower. He stood under the hot spray, letting the water wash away the blood and grime. He thought about how nice the shower felt, that the trio's time on the run might have been more bearable had they just had a decent bath and a bit more food most days. He tried to halt the guilt and shame associated with these thoughts, guilt for leaving and shame for finding excuses when his friends needed none.

Casually dressing in flannel pants, Ron collapsed on his bed, content to rest his eyes until someone joined him in the seventh years' dormitory. Before his breathing evened out, he heard the door open.

"Harry?" he asked, eyes still closed. When he didn't get an answer he sat up and opened his eyes. "'Mione?"

Hermione was standing at the foot of his bed, also fresh from a shower. Her hair was damp and she smelled clean. "'Mione? What's wrong?"

Hermione sat on Ron's bed. She looked as though she was drinking him in, and Ron could feel himself blush under her gaze, suddenly self-conscious about his lack of attire.

Before he could ask again, Hermione leaned forward and kissed him - chastely at first, then increasing in intensity. Her hands were on his arms, then his chest, then his neck and hair. Instantly, he felt his blood rush to his prick, his pants tenting. Hermione's hand trailed down his chest, past his belly button, stopping at the waist of his pants. She looked at him, gave him a smile he never thought he would see, then freed his erection.

Then all he could see was the top of her head when she tentatively put her mouth on his organ. He bucked forward, almost overwhelmed by the feel of her hot, wet mouth on his head.

Seeing his enthusiastic response, she pulled his pants down his legs, positioning herself between them. Making eye contact again, she continued her efforts, slowly taking him further into her mouth. Ron gripped his bed sheets tightly, worried about blowing too soon. Despite their intensity, he and Lavender never went this far.

Hermione started a slow rhythm, licking and sucking, trying to figure out what Ron liked most. Ron's hips started to match her tempo, and he let out several quiet groans. Feeling him grow tense, she placed a hand on his hip, rubbing small circles.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, if you're not careful I'll-"

Encouraged, she started to fondle his sack, too.

"Hermione!" Ron cried as he climaxed. He tried to pull away but Hermione always finished what she started. Once Ron went limp Hermione excused herself to the bathroom, returning before Ron collected himself.

"Hermione, that was amazing."

She lied down next to Ron.

"I'm pleased you enjoyed yourself."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, because I don't want to sound ungrateful, but what brought that on?"

Hermione rested her head on his chest. "When I saw Harry in Hagrid's arms earlier today, I was devastated. But I knew that if he was really dead... at least I still had you. But if I had lost you - I don't know how I would cope. When we kissed in the Chamber of Secrets it was like my world finally aligned itself. After Voldemort was killed, I didn't want to wait, and I didn't want to play it safe anymore. I didn't want one more night to go by where you don't know how I feel about you."

"Hermione, you are truly the most amazing girl I've ever met. I know that I'm a bit thick when it comes to feelings. You said it once, 'the emotional range of a teaspoon.' But for ages, Hermione, I thought I wasn't good enough for you. Here I am, the least remarkable Weasley, always in Harry's shadow, never getting good grades, and coming from such a poor family."

"Ron, I hope you know that's not true. Just because I had the highest marks in our year doesn't mean you're stupid." She ran her hands through his damp hair, pushing it back off his forehead. "Even in our first year, you impressed Dumbledore with your strategic aptitude in that chess game. And who cares about money? I know we will be able to provide for ourselves and each other when the time comes. I love you, Ron. Although perhaps we'll have fewer children than your parents." She added under her breath.

"So you… you really want to be with me?" Ron seemed oblivious to her mutterings.

"Well, I was hoping for something like that. You can't tell me I'm just some passing fancy -"

This time Hermione was quieted by a kiss. Ron drew back, remarking, "Blimey, is that why we fought so much? We never knew to do this before!" He cupped Hermione's cheek in his strong hand. "Hermione Jean Granger, I love you with my whole heart, and every other pale, freckled, ginger part of me. I wish we could go back in time and do this without the fights, without me leaving..." Ron prevented her from interrupting with a finger to her lips. "But that brought us here, right? I love you because you forgive me for leaving. I love the fire in your eyes that burns when you anticipate your latest intellectual challenge. I love you because you're patient with me, and don't mind teaching me how to do things the Hermione Way."

Hermione was misty eyed but smiled broadly. "There was a time I thought I'd never hear those words."

"I'd tell you every day if you let me."

"You can be rather charming, you know."

"Well, you're not the only one who can learn something from a book."

"You read a book about charming girls?"

"No... I mean... Hey, we've been alone for a while. Where is everyone?"

Hermione decided to allow Ron the obvious change in topic, as this was the most amount of progress they'd made in the seven years of knowing each other. "Neville and his grandmother went home and Dean and Seamus are sort of inseparable now that Dean is no longer hiding. Ginny has been catching up with Harry."

"I hope they're not having the same sort of reunion we did."

"Ron, I do love you, but you can be such a hypocrite. And I don't believe either one has sex on their minds tonight. From what I heard Ginny muttering, Harry has a lot of apologies to make."

"He'd better not be in her dormitory, then."

"Is your memory that bad, Ron? You don't remember the slide you and Harry rode when you attempted to enter the sixth year girls' dormitory? He can't be in there," she reassured him.

"Your parents and brothers are still here, too. They haven't gone home yet." Haven't or can't, Ron wondered.

"I know your mum wouldn't let Harry and Ginny spend the night," she yawned, "but I'm not her daughter."

"You really are the brightest witch of our age, 'Mione."