A/N: I wrote this over a year ago, and I might have had it published on another account. I've made a few edits to it and I feel it's a little more ready for public eyes.

Disclaimer: It's a given – I don't own Harry Potter.

xoxo

Slowly, I made my way through the throngs of people that surrounded me. He, as expected, had left the Great Hall, gotten away from his family. I'd half expected the remaining Death Eaters to fight off the New Order's security force and massacre everyone who had gathered in the castle, but yet, that seemed horribly unlikely.

"Cheers, Hermione!" Neville said happily, offering up a bottle of butterbeer. I took it, not wanting to be rude, and I offered a hug to him. The minute he let me go, though, I was already walking.

The staircases were surprisingly lonely, and it was almost eerie to hear such emptiness (give or take a few hollow bumps from the moving stairwells.) I'd never remembered feeling so empty, so lonely riding them as I did at that moment. I climbed off the stairs at my desired location and stood there for a moment, unmoving. I was nervous, shaky. I held the bottle limply in my hand.

I followed the corridor, came up the stairwell, and there it was: the Fat Lady's portrait. She, surprisingly, was in her frame, not off celebrating. She offered me a tiny smile. "You've done well," she whispered as she slowly swung open. "He's gone, and He will never return."

I could only hope.

I came into the Common Room. It was empty aside from the fire burning merrily in the hearth. It surprised me how undisturbed the Common Room was – it was almost alarming. Its familiarity warmed me inside. As I continued through the room, memories flooded over me like a tide. Oh, oh.

I came to the dividing stairwells and followed the boys' stairs, leading up to the long hallway. One door read "7th year boys", but I passed it. "6th year boys", was next, and I'd chosen correctly. I sat the butterbeer bottle down outside the door and tiptoed in.

He was standing at the window closest to his old four-poster bed, his hands resting on the windowsill, staring out into the late-night darkness. A flare lit somewhere in the sky above the castle, and a red glow brightened the room for a few moments before it fell away. I crossed the room gingerly, stopping just a foot or two behind him, hesitant. I crept toward him, gently put an arm around his waist, and burrowed into his side, looking up at him with cautious eyes. "I thought I might find you here," I spoke quietly.

Ron seemed a bit floored for a fraction of a second, but he looked down to me and relaxed, letting his arm casually drape around my shoulders. "Hey, H'mione" he whispered back. He pulled me close to him, and I rested my head against his chest and stood, looking out the window with him on the chaos of the grounds; all I could see were happy, joyful people without a care in the world. A lump rose in my throat.

Carefully I looked up to his face, laden with stubble, a single scar on his pale cheek, dirt smudged on his jaw and some in his gingery hair. His eyes were bright blue in the moonlight, clouded over and – from what I could see – nearly a million miles away. He was a boy no longer, I realized… Today, he had become a man.

"I figured I'd find you here," I began, reaching up to brush some hair from his forehead. A small smile lit his face, and he caught my hand and gripped it tightly. The corners of my lips upturned and I continued. "I… well, I thought we could talk. I'm not sure what about – I mean, I have a slight idea, but… If you'd like to say something… then…"

Ron cut me off, turning a delicate shade of pink in the darkened dormitory. "If this is about the kiss…" He lowered his eyes to the floor, blush spreading to his neck.

"Well, it is, but…"

He cut me off again. "I don't regret it," he said firmly, his voice taking on a slightly deeper pitch. He raised his gaze back to my face, and I could tell he was serious. He lifted my hand in the air and gave me a small twirl before putting his arm around my waist and pulling me close. "D'you want to go to the Common Room to talk? It's a bit drafty in here."

He led me into the room and over to our favorite couch, right in front of the fireplace. He helped me sit down before plopping down right next to me. He offered me a half-smile; I returned it, hesitating, before slowly taking his hand, lacing my fingers through his. We took a deep breath in unison, chuckled nervously, and relaxed a bit in our seats, instinctively leaning a bit closer to each other.

"So…?" I said, giving him a tiny nudge in the right direction. I wanted to hear what he had to say – so many things had gone unsaid after the kiss. We had split up straightaway, though I'd have liked to have gotten a chance to think about it. I'd barely even registered doing it. It could have been simply adrenaline from the battle, excitement for his sensitivity… or maybe because I'd finally gotten the guts to do what I'd wanted to do for years.

"Well…" With his free hand, Ron reached behind his head to scratch it nervously. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, debating with himself on what to say. I was patient; I gave him an encouraging nod. He took both of my hands in his, looked me straight in the eyes, and said three words I'd wanted to hear for forever.

"I love you."

Tears came to my eyes immediately – happy tears – and I buried my face in his chest, smiling through my crying. Ron put supportive arms around me, chuckling a bit in my ear.

"I love you too," I whispered back, and Ron kissed my forehead gently.

"I've been waiting about two years for you to say that," he told me.

"Yeah?" I said, feistiness cutting into my tone. "What stopped you from saying it first?" We shared a smile. "So… where does this leave us?" I asked him, playing with his shirt collar with my fingertips.

"I don't know," he said, giving me a very boyish grin. "Why don't we get married?"

"Wh- what?" I stammered, a bit surprised but… I almost liked the idea.

"Let's run it by my folks!" he said, jumping up suddenly, pulling me off the couch and to my feet; I stumbled and he caught me.

"Ron, maybe we should wait, and talk about this?" I suggested, trying to gauge how serious he was being. He paused for a minute, then shook his head like a dog trying to rid its ears of water.

"Yeah… yeah, that's probably best." He bit his lip. "But… Merlin, Hermione. Would you? I mean… well, marriage is a bit more important than going on a date or something. I'm not trying to sound too forward, or…" He looked like a helpless child, and I giggled..

"Keep your shirt on, Ronald," I told him, calling him by his full name; old habits never die. I stood on tiptoe and gently kissed him on the lips. "There's a time and place for everything."