Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: This is the second story I am reposting because when I posted it the first time, there was something wrong with the site that was preventing people from reading it. But now it seems to be fixed, so hopefully everyone can enjoy this!

Please review!

Of Tears, Hugs, and Hope

By: ChoCedric

"And I think," said Bellatrix Lestrange, staring at Hermione with pure hatred in her mad, bulging eyes, "that we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Ron Weasley bolted up in bed, his entire body covered in sweat. He was tangled in his sheets, and his heart was racing a mile a minute. Breathing hard, he began to get his bearings, and it was then he realized that the events he had been dreaming about had already happened, and that the girl in question was fine, or as fine as anyone could be after the harrowing journey that she, Ron, and Harry had experienced.

Memories swarmed back then, of the day that had just passed, and guilt crashed over him like he'd been doused in freezing water. Why was he still dreaming about Hermione being tortured, an event where even though it had been awful, she had turned out fine, when his own brother, Fred, had just died in the final battle? The image of his lifeless body, his sightless eyes, was burned into his mind, but yet, the image that haunted his dreams was of Hermione almost being killed by Bellatrix and savaged by Greyback.

And then, there was the kiss he had shared with Hermione that day, the feel of her lips attached to his. It was true that they had shared one at Shell Cottage as well right after their rescue from Malfoy Manor, but this particular one at Hogwarts had been full of pent-up passion and charged energy, and the couple had both had the worry that one of them wouldn't come back from this. Ron knew how he felt about her, and that she reciprocated the feelings - they'd both confessed everything at Shell Cottage, but they weren't official yet. They'd decided to hold off until after the war, until after it was all over.

And now was the time. But Ron continued to feel crushing guilt - why was he thinking about becoming Hermione's boyfriend when his whole family, including him, was grieving for Fred? You selfish berk, he thought furiously. What the devil are you thinking?

But suddenly, he swore he heard a voice speaking right in his ear. "Don't be ridiculous, mate," it said. "Even though I'm gone, don't you dare deny yourself happiness. The world needs laughter and joy, you prat. Don't you dare give that up on my account."

And that, more than anything, got Ron out of bed. He swore he'd just heard Fred speaking to him, and if his dead brother was telling him to go for it, then he would.

He wondered where Hermione was - was she in the girls' dorm? He hoped not, for boys were prevented from going in there because of the "hanky-panky" and "funny business" that people were afraid would happen. If he even attempted to go up there, the stairs would turn into a slide.

But luck was on his side, for when he appeared downstairs, Hermione was in the common room, fast asleep. He sat on the couch next to her, and just looked at her, for he was afraid to wake her. She'd had a hard day as well, and the fact that she was sleeping soundly soothed him.

But suddenly, she began to moan, moving around agitatedly on the couch. At first, he couldn't understand what she was saying, but then, one word captured his attention.

"Ron ..."

As he looked at her face, he saw the frown lines etched there, the anxiety, and he wondered what she was dreaming about.

"No," she moaned, and she now sounded as though she was going to cry. "No, Ron, please! Come back, come back!"

With a horrible jolt, Ron realized what she was dreaming about: she was dreaming of his desertion from her and Harry on the Horcrux hunt, when he'd been stupid enough to leave her when she needed him most. She had told him he'd redeemed himself at Malfoy Manor, but yet it was an image that still haunted her dreams, just as the image of her being tortured haunted his.

Deciding to save her from experiencing even more agony, he gently began stroking her hair, softly calling her name. "Hermione," he said soothingly, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Slowly, Hermione's moans stopped, and she let out a deep sigh as her eyes opened. She looked at him then, and said, "Ron?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, love," Ron said quietly. The term of endearment slipped out naturally, as if he'd always called her that.

Hermione looked into his face, as if memorizing every facet of it. "You're not gone," she said, still recovering from her dream. "You're really here."

"I'm so sorry," Ron whispered, taking her hand in his own. "I'm so sorry I left you when you needed me. I knew you were dreaming about it, you were talking in your sleep."

"Oh," replied Hermione, who yawned, stretched, and sat up. "I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. I know you feel sorry enough for it."

"It's okay," said Ron. "I deserve it."

"No," Hermione argued. "But how did you sleep? Are you okay? Why did you come and find me?"

"I slept fine," Ron lied, embarrassed. "I just woke up and wanted to see how you were."

But Ron couldn't pull one over Hermione. She gave him a look and said, "Don't lie to me, Ronald. What's wrong, did you have a bad dream?"

Ron flushed, not wanting to admit what he'd been dreaming about but knowing that Hermione would want the truth. "I just ... you were ... Bellatrix ..." he mumbled.

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face as she put a gentle arm around him. "I was being tortured, wasn't I?" she murmured softly.

"Yeah ... yeah," Ron said. "God, I was so scared. I dream about it ... all the time. Every time I'm so afraid I won't be able to save you, that Bellatrix will ... she will ..."

"I'm okay, Ron," Hermione said gently. "It's over now. It's all over."

Hermione's words had a profound effect on Ron. She'd said the three words that he was still in disbelief about: it was over. The war was over. There was no more worry of Voldemort, of Bellatrix. There was no more reason to look over his shoulder in constant fear of attack. The war was over, but not without a major price: his brother's life.

It was then that memories came back to Ron in a torrent: Fred teasing him about his fear of spiders, Fred tickling him when he was little, Fred talking about his joke shop, Fred telling him that he was the best little brother one could ever have, Fred, Fred, Fred ...

And at that moment the tears finally came to his eyes. He'd been so numb that he hadn't shed a tear for Fred yet but now they were surfacing, and they were ready to roll down his cheeks. He tried to blink them back but to no avail, and a sob was caught in his throat as he whispered his brother's name in a broken voice.

Hermione, who had expected this and wanted Ron to let all his emotions out, hugged him fiercely as the tears began to fall. He kept repeating Fred's name through his sobs as Hermione's bushy hair tickled his face. As he cried, he felt the girl who was holding him shake in his arms and he knew she was crying too. It had been a long journey and it was finally over, and the couple, who were filled with grief and relief, hugged and cried in each other's arms.

When their bout of sobbing finally subsided, Ron looked into Hermione's tearstained face and choked out, "I'm ... I'm sorry. I'm such a fool."

"Nonsense, Ronald," Hermione said, the bossy tone Ron had grown to love so much still shining through, even though she'd just been crying. "Everyone needs to cry sometimes. You just lost your brother, you're not a fool at all."

Ron looked at her gratefully, and she gently squeezed his hand. "It's over," he croaked, the fact still not quite registering. "It's all over."

And then, their lips were drawing closer and closer together, and they were kissing again. This kiss, unlike the one during the battle, was soft and slow, filled with love and hope for the future. When they broke apart, both sets of eyes were gentle.

"We can get through this, Ron," Hermione said, and her hand was clasped in Ron's. "The next little while's going to be hard, but I know we can get through this. We can finally relax and rest."

"And be together," Ron said, a goofy grin coming over his face.

"Yes, and be together," replied Hermione, a gentle smile on her own visage.

"Fred's probably thinking it's about time," said Ron as he remembered what he had sworn he heard his dead brother saying after his nightmare. Slowly, he told Hermione of the experience.

The girl laughed and pulled Ron close to her again. "I don't doubt that's exactly what he's thinking," she said, smiling.

Ron sighed and nuzzled her neck as exhaustion swept over him. "Can I ... can I stay with you tonight?" he asked in a small, embarrassed voice.

"Of course you can, you daft dolt," Hermione said teasingly. "You look exhausted. Go to sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll never leave you again," Ron promised as he closed his eyes.

"I know." Hermione smiled against him as she closed hers too.

In minutes, the couple were asleep, and no more nightmares haunted them that night. Both were warm and safe, content in the knowledge that the war was over. Grief still weighed them down, but there was hope, a light at the end of the tunnel which they both clung to.

It was finally over.