It was Ron's birthday. Not that anyone had noticed, and not that he cared. Harry was completely preoccupied, of course, and probably didn't even know what month it was. And Hermione – well, if she'd remembered, she hadn't said anything.
It had been a tiring day. Their search of a nearby village had revealed nothing, as they'd all known it would.
Ron lay in bed, staring at Harry's bunk above his. Hermione was on guard duty, but she'd be in soon to switch with him. Probably silently – they tended not to talk much when they were alone at night. She'd taken long enough to speak to him at all, and he couldn't blame her.
At least, Ron reminded himself, his departure had snapped him back to his senses. It didn't matter if he was worried about his family, or hungry, or any of it. He would never, ever leave them again. If he and Hermione had a purpose, this was it. They had to protect Harry, and they had to destroy Voldemort. Two things. How hard could that be? Of course, it would also be nice to somehow make things up to Hermione.
But she would come round, he thought, grinning in the darkness. It might take a while, but she would. She knew he hasn't wanted to leave, at least not for more than a moment. Stupid Snatchers. Ron rolled over on his side, squinting at the moonlight shining through the tent flap. Was that a noise outside?
It was only Hermione, stepping lightly inside and tiptoeing over to Ron and Harry's bunk bed. Ron quickly pretended to be asleep. He didn't want her to think he'd been waiting up for her, even though he had.
He heard her kneel down next to his bed to wake him up, and then she hesitated for some reason. Carefully, he opened one eye the tiniest bit possible to see what she was doing.
She wasn't doing anything, just looking at him with a curious, sad smile on her face. Ever so softly, she brushed a lock of hair out of his face.
'Happy birthday, Ron,' she whispered.
Ron opened his eyes wide enough for her to see. 'You remembered,' he whispered back.
She bent her head down, unwilling to meet his eyes. 'Of course I did.'
'Harry didn't,' Ron said, suppressing a chuckle.
Hermione fought a smile. 'Harry has other stuff on his mind.' She rolled her eyes. They both thought Harry's obsession with the Deathly Hallows was ridiculous. Her face turned serious. 'Fed up with him again?'
Ron felt the smile leave his face. He cautiously reached out and took Hermione's hand, and she didn't resist. 'No. I'm not. I could never be. Hermione, I…' He swallowed what seemed to be a lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice light. 'I've tried life without you two, and I didn't like it. I'm never leaving. Not ever. OK?'
'OK,' she whispered back.
'OK,' he replied. She smiled at him, and squeezed his hand.
'It's your turn for guard duty, you know,' she told him.
'I know. I'm going.' Ron made no move to get out of bed, but continued looking at Hermione. She stared back, with that same sad, hopeful smile playing around her lips.
'If you two are just going to sit there whispering, I might as well take the next watch,' said Harry from directly above them. They both jumped. 'I'm awake by now anyway,' he grumbled, clearly annoyed, shuffling to get out of bed.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, not relishing the prospect of Harry seeing the two of them silently holding hands. Ron squeezed Hermione's hand again and let go, and she silently climbed into her bunk, facing him.
Her brown eyes stared directly into his, as though afraid to look away. He stared back, unable able to say anything, especially as Harry stomped around, muttering grouchily and getting his jacket on.
As the minutes ticked past, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in contented silence, and neither of them could say which of them fell asleep first.