A/N: Thanks to all my readers who stuck with me through the mammoth project that was 'In Search of Hermione' and gave that story so much love. As promised, I bring you the sequel to it where Ron and Hermione finally begin their new journey. This story is marked as Angst only because there will be mentions of the post-War wizarding society. This story will neither be as lengthy nor as angsty as its predecessor. It's more of a Romance with lemons.

A special shoutout to jenn582 for reading the first draft and giving me the necessary morale boost I needed when I was conflicted about this fic.

Chapter 1: Lingering Nightmares

It began with a twitch like always- a shiver at the tip of her fingers which spread to her arms and then to the rest of her body.

She tried shaking off the dread but it was slowly creeping its way into her heart. There was a faint whisper at the back of her mind- something familiar, hopeful in fact, but it was way too far off to be heard clearly. Her legs carried her over the gravelled pathway, and she walked almost in a haze till the nauseatingly familiar, large building materialised in front of her eyes. And then someone screamed- a loud blood-curdling sound that broke out through the walls of Malfoy Manor and percolated through her skin. She couldn't hear herself cry although she was pretty sure she tried, or perhaps it blended with Ron's screams? Hermione didn't know for sure but she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She faintly registered rushing past the fountain on the left and towards the large main door, all the while yelling for him.

She had barely reached the steps when suddenly, everything fell silent - Ron's voice was cut off mid-scream, and this time, Hermione heard her own heart-wrenching cry. It drowned the voice at the back of her head which was still desperately calling out to her.

...

"HERMIONE? HERMIONE! WAKE UP!" he cried, patting her cheeks with his free hand while the other pulled her quivering body to his chest. He was just about to cast the Rennervating spell when there was furious banging on the wood followed by loud swearing. Harry's spell caused the old door to jerk open and collide loudly against the wall.

"Fuck!" swore his best mate noticing the scene on the bed, and Ron ignored him to cast the spell on Hermione instead. Her body stilled instantly, and for a minute, he could hardly breathe as her limp body collapsed in his arms. Then after what felt like a lifetime of agonising minutes, she finally opened her eyes.

He swore loudly and gulped in two mouthfuls of air before dropping his wand next to him and wrapping her more firmly in his embrace, kissing her frantically on the face and neck.

"Stop scaring us like this, Hermione," quaked Harry, and Ron lifted his head to notice his mate collapse down on the ground, draw in his knees and drop his head between them.

"Not that she can help it, mate," he snapped while rubbing her back with his palm.

"I know," Harry sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, I am sorry," Hermione whispered as she shifted a little in Ron's arms, but only to allow herself to face Harry when she spoke to him.

"Did you take the potion?" inquired Ron as he tucked her curls away from her face, wiping the beads of sweat that covered her forehead with his palm. She looked away guiltily with a small shake of her head.

"I've been taking it for three months now, Ron. Since... since our escape from the Manor... Continuous usage can lead to other side effects... like hallucinations and insanity," she finished in a small voice. Ron could hear Harry fidget in the background but chose to ignore him and took her hand in his larger one.

"When did you take it the last time?" he asked instead.

"Two days ago,"

"And?"

"And- I think..." she licked her lips and eyed Harry who scrambled to his feet ungracefully.

"Erm... I guess I'll leave. Call if you guys need anything." he muttered, and with a small nod at Ron's direction, walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ron glanced once at the couple of candles that shone from the bracket; their flames flickered as the door shut but the Charm in them kept them burning.

He placed his hand gently to her chin and tilted her face towards him.

"What?" he asked softly while looking at those brown pools. He hated that she was still hurting so much, hated that Magical healing had so little to ease a psychological distress as severe as hers. But most of all, he hated that he had no clue what more he could do to help.

"I wanted to try sleeping without them," she confessed, "and it worked for two days but-", she stopped and bit her lip in frustration like she was prone to doing when an answer evaded her.

"Somethin' happened today? Something that, Oh! Bloody– fuck." he pulled away his hand to run it through his hair. "It's 'bout my training, innit?" he exhaled.

This time Hermione pulled his hand in hers and snuggled closer to his chest, grabbing the thin cloth of his vest in between her fingers.

"I know I'm making it hard for you, Ron, but- " he felt her snuggling deeper and wrapped his arms more firmly around her waist, "-but I'm so scared!" she cried into his chest.

Ron pulled her completely onto his lap this time and let out a grunt as her legs wrapped around his waist. Placing his palm at the base of her neck he pulled away slightly to make her meet his eyes.

"It's gonna sound sappy as hell but, nothin's gonna keep me away from you, you know that, right?"

She chuckled slightly through her tears and shook her head before resting it on his shoulders.

"What do I do with my fears, Ron? The thought of not knowing where you are-" She shuddered and wrapped her arms more firmly around him. "I keep dreaming about the Manor. I..." she gulped and took a deep breath before continuing, "We don't even know how many Death Eaters escaped, Ron. You know they'll target you both first."

Ron rested his chin on top of her head before pressing a kiss on the mass of curls. The familiar fragrance of her hair sent a pleasant shiver down his spine but 'twas more than just that. He could feel her breathing ease and wondered if he'd be at peace not being with her when she needed him this way.

"Do you want me to drop out of the program?" he asked quietly and she met his eyes, searching and with such an insane amount of love that even the thought of giving up on his childhood dreams didn't seem half bad.

Hermione placed her palms on his cheeks and traced his jawline with her fingers, her eyes never leaving his. Ron reckoned he was holding his breath for her answer. But he also realised that he'd end up leaving the Auror program if Hermione needed him to. Her gaze fell away from his eyes to rest briefly on his lips before she met his eyes again. Ron inched closer on instinct. His nose brushed her smaller one before his lips found their true place- over hers, and a soft sigh escaped him. It was barely a touch before he pulled away and then wrapping one arm firmly around her waist and entangling the other in her mass of wild curls, he claimed her lips again.

Peace was what he found in her.

His lip captured her lower lip and sucked gently and she returned the blissful gesture in kind by pulling his upper lip in between hers; and just like that, everything else around them seemed to dissolve. All he felt was her body close to his, and that was all he needed anyway. Her taste flooded his senses, her fragrance wrapped around him bringing a kind of serenity that was still so elusive after the war. He could bear it no longer and deepened the kiss. His desperate tongue delved into her mouth and she moaned softly as it found hers. Her nails dug into his shoulders in a pleasant way while her breasts pressed onto his chest and he practically ached to remove the barriers of clothing and feel her skin against his. He craved to be pulled in by her, claimed by her. His hard member rubbed against her flimsy shorts, eager to be released from its confines and find itself wrapped in her warmth instead. He barely controlled the urge to thrust and pulled away, reluctant but while he still had the strength to do so.

"I'll leave it if it makes you feel any better." he confessed and she let out a tiny cry and wrapped her arms around his neck again.

"I can't let you do that, Ron. It's what you've always wanted."

He pressed a kiss on her nape and she shuddered a little. His member protested inside his pyjamas by pressing into her shorts-covered core. She moaned harder before biting down softly on his shoulder. They'd do better sleeping naked as he had suggested weeks ago. But this way, they were able to snatch a few more precious seconds before she Disapparated back to the Burrow and into his room. But he'd have liked to keep her with him, every second of his life, only if she wasn't so worried about offending his parents... The pull between them was intense. Ron had no clue how he had even managed to hold on for so long during his sixth and seventh year. No wonder he was always barking mad at her.

"Tell me what you want," he urged holding her firmly against him.

She pulled away to look into his eyes again. There was anguish in those brown orbs but this time it also held determination, as if she had finally found her answers. Her palm slid down to rest on his chest and she smiled a little before she spoke, a little sad but a proud one.

"It'll be very selfish of me to hold back this Gryffindor," she replied poking gently at his chest with her finger. "He needs to be out there fighting, doesn't he?" she asked looking into his eyes.

He smiled and nodded a little before pressing his forehead to hers. "But I'll stay back if you need me to. You know you matter more to me than everything else, including this Auror Program."

Hermione traced her finger gently over his lips and watched them curiously as she spoke. "I know. You've proved that many times over, Ron."

She exhaled and bit her lower lip before dropping her hand and fidgeted with a loose thread on his vest before speaking again. But this time, her voice didn't quiver. It had the strength of a girl who had come a long way from her privileged roots in these two of years; a girl who was scared, bruised and still hurting, but hardened by war nevertheless.

"Go, do what you Gryffindors do best, Ron. But bear in mind, you hurt yourself or worse, and you'll have to face the wrath of a nasty Slytherin when you get back."

He laughed aloud this time and claimed her lips again.

"Come on, I have my own personal Healer-in-making to patch me up!" he chuckled before biting her earlobe gently. "I love you. You know that, right?" he gruffed in a husky whisper at her nape and she squealed softly as his lips found a ticklish spot.

"And now, it's time to show you what other stuff we Gryffindors do best."

Her laughter turned into a shocked gasp and then a moan as he lowered her on the bed, pulled the shorts off her in haste and pushed two long fingers into the moist warmth of her folds even as his lips claimed hers once again.

...

The soft moan turned into loud swears on Ron's part and jumbled gibberish in her case. Hermione was a mass of nerves, each of which sparked and tingled as Ron thrust into her. She lay with her head resting on Ron's arm while his other hand had entwined around her waist and reached between her legs where their bodies coupled together. This was one of her favourite positions: encased within Ron as the smaller spoon, while his broad chest pressed against her back as he thrust inside her.

The old bed creaked and for a brief minute, she bit back a chuckle realising how much noise they were making. But every other thought faded as Ron pressed his lips to her shoulder and sucked. She managed to cut her loud moan but only by pressing her face onto his arm and biting down softly. She heard his grunt, knowing instinctively that he was getting close. Her right arm snaked its way between her legs and Ron, from days of practice, grabbed it in his, effectively wrapping a couple of her fingers around his slick shaft that was still busy plunging in and out of her. Her body shuddered violently and at the same time, his hand grasped her wrist as another shudder racked his body and his warm seed filled her up.

...

It was the soft buzzing of the wand on the bedside table that woke her. The candles had finally died down, as they were charmed to do with the first light of the morning.

Hermione knew she still had around half-an-hour before she needed to get back- if she needed to get back at all. She turned slightly to her right to watch him and just like every morning, felt a surge of gratitude to have this man in her life. Ron was sleeping, peacefully at the moment. His now shorter fringe covered his forehead, for once making him looking like the eighteen-year-old he was. She resisted the urge to run her fingers over his cheeks because all of them were horribly light sleepers now. Instead, she allowed herself to watch him. Ron muttered something incoherent in his sleep and the arm that was wrapped around her pulled her closer, his face pressing into her nape and she sighed blissfully.

How many times could she thank the dead headmaster for saving her by bringing him into her life? Apparently, not enough.

Sometimes she still wondered what might have prompted the wise old man to assign Ron as her guard; did he know what he was doing? Harry said he did. In fact, Harry was sure Dumbledore was relying on Ron and Hermione to be together for the success of their mission. It seemed strange, impossible even. Anyone who knew them in their fifth year would agree. But that was more like Dumbledore, wasn't it? He knew more than anyone else. She wished she had that kind of farsightedness, especially now.

She looked at his peaceful face again before snuggling deeper into his arms, if that was even possible. But the anxiety remained. Bill's words haunted her and she tried to push away the panic that began to rise again.

It had been far too many times already, she told herself. She wasn't ready to lose everything that was hers all over again. She could live without claiming that inheritance. What she had with Ron was worth so much more than all the gold in those three vaults.

Bill hadn't brought it up earlier, but she had always known he would.

"So are you planning to claim your vaults at Gringotts?" he had asked her casually after dinner the previous night.

"I don't know," she confessed truly. Ron's eldest brother nodded a little, and despite the scars that marked his face, Hermione noticed how similar his features were to Ron's. It didn't make matters easy.

"What happens if I don't?" she asked after a pause. Harry and Ron were talking to Kingsley and the rest of the family was gathered around the table, Ginny was sitting next to George talking in soft tones.

"Considering those vaults were locked and sealed after the deaths-" Bill paused for a minute, giving her an understanding look before continuing, "-you should expect a notice from the Ministry to present yourself to the Wizegamot before you can submit your claim. Our world's a mess, that's what's taking them so long. But they'll get to it. Yours is a rare case."

"Yes," she replied automatically.

"It's lucky that the Gringotts' inherent magic takes over in these cases. The announcement had ensured that the vaults be sealed till a legal claimant appeared and proved his or her claim. It successfully saved your inheritance from being used by Voldemort to fund his games. He wasn't happy, I am told."

She shuddered at the memory Bill's words evoked, but unaware as he was about her inner turmoil, he continued.

"The Wizegamot and the Gringotts' Goblin Trust will need to review your claim as the true Hermione Granger. They'll need blood samples along with evidence and witnesses of your escape since you've been considered dead for almost two years since the Granger Mansions incident."

"But Dumbledore is dead," she said automatically and Bill nodded grimly. "But you were rescued by Snape, Remus and Kingsley. He can give his testimony," he indicated at the tall wizard who was currently their Minister of Magic.

Hermione glanced at the three men and her eyes automatically sought the tallest.

"Ron will have to testify too, won't he?" she asked.

"Yes," replied Bill. "In fact, as your assigned guard, his testimony matters the most, after Dumbledore."

...

The wand buzzed again.

Fifteen minutes.

She pulled out her hand from under the cover and silently Accioed her clothes. The faded shorts and almost discoloured top zoomed into her hand.

The decision should have been easy.

For the past couple of years, she had been financially dependent on the Order. And now the funds were at all time low. The War had left even the well-off people penniless. For months, keeping alive had been the priority; jobs had taken a backseat. Even now, two months after the war, the Wizarding World was a shadow of what it once was. Too much had been destroyed, a lot needed to be rebuilt. Hungry, homeless witches and wizards still thronged the streets. Most people had been stripped of all that they owned. Everyone needed money, and no one seemed to have enough- apart from her.

She needed funds for her education. Hogwarts had too many orphans this year to fund. The thought was painful and brought back memories of all the funerals they had attended in the initial days and she took a deep breath, biting back the tears that threatened to escape. And the castle needed repairs and funds too. For once, she could use her father's wealth for something good, maybe that would wash off some of the sins they had accumulated by aiding the Dark Lord.

She glanced at Ron again, grabbing his arm instinctively.

Her wealth and name had been a barrier between them. The thought intensified her shame, and she turned to press herself into his sleeping form. She desperately hoped his closeness would save her from the guilt as it rescued her from her nightmares. And automatically, she remembered the words he had spoken months ago, back in her Chamber in the Gryffindor Tower, after he had found out about Ginny and Harry.

"Even if we all survive the catastrophe that lies in front of us, and they are still together, people will assume she is a fortune hunter, enticing the Chosen One for name and fame."

"Why would you say that? They really like each other!" she had exclaimed, and he had laughed mirthlessly at her words. "You won't find a better guy for Ginny, Ron, and you know that. Harry really feels deeply for her."

"No one really cares about feelings, Granger," he'd said as he tilted his head sideways very slightly to meet her eyes, for once, allowing his mask to slide down.

"People see what they want to see. For them, we, the penniless Weasleys, will be the fortune hunters who would have trapped the famous Harry Potter for his money and fame. I have heard that for years, I don't want Ginny to face it too."

She wanted to believe he was wrong. But he wasn't.

She had heard whispers, feeble ones but they were there, pointing fingers at her, wondering loudly why the daughter of a Death Eater was with two War Heroes. They were invisible faces, muttering behind her, disappearing when she turned around. Once, Ron had overheard one of them in Diagon Alley. He had wrapped a possessive arm around her and glared at the man before looking at her with pride.

"Because she is a bloody War Hero herself." He had spat at the man.

She had grabbed onto his shirt tightly, smiling at him like she didn't care. But she knew she cared, and Ron knew it too.

She sighed a little; the breath came in gasps, struggling on its way through her constricting chest muscles.

What if her inheritance snatched away Ron from her life again? She trusted Ron. She just didn't trust her luck.

A/n: Thanks for reading and a review will be highly appreciated.