Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and have no ownership over her amazing world or characters. I'm just playing with them.

No Guarantees

Since the war ended, it was rare to find the Burrow as empty as it was that summer afternoon. Even when Arthur and Percy were at work, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were out playing two-on-two Quidditch or perusing Diagon Alley, Molly was almost always home, busying herself with cooking or cleaning, or else out doing chores in the Garden. George was usually there now as well, ghosting through the house, seemingly lost without his other half. There were often a few visitors hanging about, too – Hagrid, Minerva McGonagall, Kinsley Shacklebolt, Neville and Luna, friends from Hogwarts. Sometimes just general well-wishers. Then there were the reporters who would show up at the door every few days, begging for interviews with Harry, Hermione and Ron about the events of the past months. With all the comings and goings, the Burrow had, as of late, begun to feel more like an exclusive social club than a home.

Today, though, there were no journalists milling about the yard, no friendly visitors or well wishers. Even Molly and George were not to be found anywhere on the grounds. The only two people who were there now were lying on their backs in the Garden, side by side underneath a big willow tree. It was Ron and Hermione.

They had spoken very little, both that day and the weeks preceding it – not since the day they had laid Fred to rest. Ron had fallen apart that day, the first time he really had since his brother's death, and it was to Hermione that he turned for comfort. She held him tightly to her as he sobbed against her chest, breaking her heart with his inconsolable grief. After that day, he had pulled away from her both physically and emotionally. Whether it was from embarrassment or grief, Hermione could not tell. She just knew that she missed him – missed the touch of his hand on hers, missed the feel of her arms around him. She even missed the feel of his lips on hers though they had only kissed once more since their first kiss during the battle. It had also been the day of the funeral and Ron, through his steady tears, had quite suddenly threaded his hands through Hermione's hair and pressed his lips to hers with a sort of intense desperation – as though by kissing her, he could kiss away the pain he was feeling. She wondered now if that's why he was avoiding her. Had she been unable to assuage his grief?

It had been Ron, though, who suggested they go out to the garden that day when his Mum and Dad along with Harry and Ginny, left with George to help him get settled back in at the Joke Shop; Ron who had uncharacteristically stated that they "should talk" before leading her outside. It had now been the better part of an hour, though, and nothing had escaped Ron's mouth to this point except an occasional heavy sigh.

It was very hot in the Garden, and Hermione was beginning to get uncomfortable with the sun beating down on her between the branches of the willow tree. Every once in a while, a cool breeze would blow through, teasing her with a hint of the approaching Autumn, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and she was left sweating into the earth again.

"What time did your Mum say they would be back again?" Hermione asked, hoping to illicit the conversation that Ron had implied he wanted to have. She knew it was a lame attempt. Both she and Ron knew perfectly well that the rest of the Weasley's weren't expected to come home until well after dark. Mrs. Weasley had even asked Hermione if she would mind fixing up a little something for herself and Ron for dinner.

"Not sure... Late, I think." Ron answered noncommittally.

This is getting ridiculous, Hermione thought to herself. Her patience with Ron was quickly waning. She was hot, uncomfortable, and the conversation that Ron seemed so keen on having an hour ago had yet to even start.

Hermione sat up abruptly. Her head spun a little from the blood rush and the heat.

"Ron, I'm..." Hermione began, intending on telling him she was going back into the house, but Ron suddenly interrupted her.

"Hermione, what are we?" He asked, still looking up at the sky. Hermione was startled by the suddenness of the question. She gazed down at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Are we just friends? A couple? Something in between?" He asked. For the first time in an hour, he turned his gaze on her.

Hermione inhaled deeply, not at all sure how to answer that question. What were they? A few weeks ago she would have answered unequivocally – they were a couple, together at last after a four year love/hate courtship. At this point, however, with Ron avoiding her and barely two words spoken to each other in weeks, she honestly did not know.

"Well... I..." Hermione paused, wanting to be honest but not wanting to hurt Ron's feelings - or her own. "I... really don't know what we are." she answered truthfully. Ron turned his eyes back to the sky, an impassive look on his face. They were quiet for a few moments before Hermione spoke again.

"What... what do you want us to be?" she asked. She realized a moment too late that she may not want to know that answer – because she knew she loved Ron, more than anyone else in her life, and she knew that she wanted more than anything for them to be together. But she now realized that that may not be what he wanted. She looked at Ron fearfully, waiting for a reply.

When he turned his face back to hers, she had to hold back tears. She had seen that look on Ron's face before - when he was trying to figure out a particularly finicky potion in Snape's class, or revising for exams, or he missed a save in Quidditch. It was the look of utmost frustration.

Ron rose up on his elbows and looked at Hermione, who was fighting hard against the tears threatening her eyes.

"I... can't, Hermione." Ron said in a voice barely above a whisper. Hermione felt her throat constrict.

"You... you can't?" She repeated.

"No." He said simply.

Hermione felt her heart falter in her chest, and then the feeling that it was crumbling into a million little pieces. She couldn't believe it. Was he breaking up with her? Before they even had a chance to really be boyfriend and girlfriend? She looked down, unable to stay the tears any longer.

"I see." she replied, trying hard to hide the emotion in her voice. "Can I... can I know why, at least?"

She heard Ron sigh deeply and watched out of the corner of her eye as he pushed himself up to a sitting position across from her. She was surprised when she felt Ron's hand under her chin, uncharacteristically tender, pushing her face up so her eyes met his. She was even more surprised to see that the frustrated look he had worn only minutes before had melted into a look of anguish, agony - like he were being forced to watch someone kick a puppy.

"Dammit, Hermione. It's not because I don't want to... please believe that." Ron said. Tears ran down Hermione's cheek and Ron brushed them lightly away with his thumb. "I... I just can't."

Hermione shook her head, not understanding, wanting a solid explanation of why the only boy she had ever loved was doing this to her.

"But, why?" she asked again, her voice pleading this time.

"Because...because..." Ron stuttered.

"WHY?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Because I'm afraid to let myself love you!" Ron shouted suddenly.

A deafening silence followed Ron's words – the loudest silence Hermione had ever experienced. She didn't know what exactly she had expected Ron's reason to be, but it definitely wasn't this.

"I... I don't understand." Hermione said, trying in vain to wrap her head around Ron's meaning.

"Don't you see, Hermione? Loving someone is no guarantee! Look at how many people loved Fred and look what happened to him! Look how much Tonks and Remus loved each other and now they are both dead... DEAD. I... I can't risk it Hermione. I can't risk loving you only to lose you to this fucked up world!"

The pieces were beginning to fall into place. Hermione could see it now, the reason for Ron's hesitation. It wasn't because he didn't love her and didn't want her. It was because he loved her too much. After losing so many people he loved - his own brother - he was afraid of losing anyone else, of losing the person he loved the most. More over, she understood... completely. How many times had she cringed at the thought of losing Ron? How many nightmares had she had in which Fred's cold, lifeless body was replaced by Ron's. Losing Fred had been one of the worst experiences of Hermione's life. Even thinking about Ron in his place, however, made her blood run cold and her heart ache with insurmountable grief.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione cried, and without a second thought, she threw herself into Ron's arms and pressed her lips fully and firmly to his. Ron was caught off guard by Hermione's enthusiasm and tumbled back onto the grass under her strength. Hermione fell on top of him and used the position to deepen the kiss, hoping Ron would reciprocate her passion. But Ron's lips were hesitant against hers - cold and detached. Hermione pressed herself closer and caressed Ron's bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. She felt Ron twitch beneath her and his arms slowly, instinctively, worked their way around her waist. She could feel his resolve melting and took full advantage, deepening their kiss and moaning into his mouth. Ron tightened his hold on Hermione, rolling over so that he was resting on top of her. Wanting only to be closer to him, Hermione slid her leg up Ron's and hitched her calf on his hip. But, rather than strengthening his desire as she hoped this would, Ron suddenly pulled sharply away and pushed himself into a sitting position, facing away from her.

Hermione swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat brought on by Ron's sudden rejection. Refusing to concede to his hopelessness though, she pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders, burying her face in the nape of his neck.

"Hermione... please... this is bloody hard enough." Ron said gruffly, an obvious lump in his throat.

"Ron, listen to me." she whispered. She twisted her way around Ron so that she was facing him and took both his hands in hers. She saw tears in the corners of his eyes, though he was trying to hide them.

"You're right, Ron - love isn't a guarantee. After everything we've seen and been through, we both know that. But he's gone now, Ron! Voldemort is gone." Ron flinched at the name. "And if you hide yourself away and not let yourself love anyone ever again because you are afraid of losing them, then he's won... even in death!"

Ron looked up at Hermione, tears now pouring in earnest from his eyes.

"Don't let him win, Ron." Said Hermione. "We worked so hard all these months to defeat him, and we did! He's gone and we have to move on and start over... together." With that, Hermione leaned in and pressed her lips to Ron's again. This time, there was no hesitancy in the kiss he returned. He pressed his lips to hers just as passionately as she had done a moment before.

When they broke apart a few moments later, they both had wet eyes. Ron smiled sheepishly and brushed his away with the heel of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm such a git. I'm just... you know...scared of losing someone else that I … that I love. And, well... I love you."

Hermione's heart swelled at Ron's words. He loved her. She knew this, had known it for a while, but it felt so good to hear him say those words out loud.

"I love you too, Ron." Hermione whispered, tears running down her face again. It was Ron who brushed them from her cheek this time.

Ron leaned back against the trunk of the willow tree and held his arms out to Hermione. She spooned herself against him, between his raised knees, and laid her head back on his chest. Ron rested his chin on the top of her head and laced his fingers through hers. Though the sun still shone brightly above them, she no longer felt hot and uncomfortable. She felt peaceful... and full of hope. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring them, or the next day, or the day after that. But, she knew she was not going to dwell in fear of the "what-ifs" and she would not let Ron tarry on them either. They would start over, together, just as she had told Ron. They would live each day loving each other. And, if the worst happened and fate saw fit to separate them, Hermione knew that they would still love each other, even in death.

Hermione turned her head so that her cheek was resting against Ron's chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beat. She sighed contentedly, feeling like they were the only two people in the world.

Love may not offer any guarantees, she thought. But, for now... this moment is enough.