Hermione's footsteps echoed on the stones as she climbed what was left of the Astronomy Tower. As she neared the top of the rubble, she saw him huddled, perched on the edge of a precipice overlooking the ruins of Hogwarts Castle. From the moment Hermione had looked up from her work of comforting the families of the fallen, she knew where he had gone.

"Ron?" she hesitated. "Ron." She reached out and touched his shoulder.

Hermione waited for a moment.

He didn't move, didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Ok, well, your mum was worried about you. I said I'd come find you. I'll just go let her know where you are." She turned and started to pick her way down the ruined stairway.

"Hermione, wait," his voice was no more than a whisper.

She turned and climbed back to him. "It's ok if you want to be alone."

"I … stay with me, Hermione," his eyes pleaded with her to understand what he couldn't voice.

"Of course," her quiet tone matched his. She reached to grasp the hand he offered, gasping for a moment as she glanced at the drop in front of her it must be thirty metres down to the remains of the tower now lying on the ground below.

She felt Ron's arms wrap firmly around her. "Shh, I won't let you fall," he pulled her to him, and she relaxed imperceptibly. "I've got you, Hermione." She settled into his embrace.

Hermione settled next to Ron on the rim of the ruin, and looked out over the scene below. The chaos of the night's battle and the dawn that had broken as it ended had given way to a deceptive, eerie silence in the morning. A light, early summer breeze whispered over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. The colour of the sky had brightened to a brilliant blue. Ron was once again staring off into the distance across the lake.

So much had happened during the past day, the past months. There hadn't been any time to stop and process any of it. Hermione looked down at the Whomping Willow, its branches covered in new leaves that were rustling in the wind. She allowed the movement to hypnotize her as she leaned back against Ron.

He shifted to bring her closer, resting her head against his chest, breathing in the floral scent of her hair that somehow lingered through the soot and sweat. Keeping one hand firmly around her waist, he used the other to reach down and clasp her hand. She looked down at their twined hands, both arms showing signs of healing burns from their escape from Gringotts. Could that possibly have been less than a day ago? Their robes were dirty, scorched, and torn. The price had been high, but they had both survived. They had succeeded in their quest to help Harry.

Ron looked down on the scarred landscape in front of them. "What do we do now?" he was lost. Their whole lives this past year, since they met Harry on the train seven years ago, really, had been focused on one goal. He really hadn't allowed himself the luxury of looking past it. None of them had.

Hermione sighed. "We clean up, pick up the pieces, and move on," she declared decisively.

Ron chuckled. She turned to look at him, confused. "What?"

He shook his head. How could he explain how comforting it was to hear Hermione being so … Hermione in the face of such destruction? "I love you, you know that?" he whispered into her ear, holding her tightly to him.

She turned in his arms, looking into the shining blue that matched the sky with wonder. He leaned down, closing the distance between them, joining their lips and their hearts as they sat on the brink of the future.