Hermione didn't really know when it all started. Was anyone ever really able to tell? It's so strange when you've learned to evolve, when you've grown mainly as a group, and the balance works perfectly, but everything changes when one is removed. Perhaps it was the first time they were left alone without Harry to roam around Hogsmeade together. He'd always bothered her, the way only he knew how, but the more she thought about it, the more she leaned towards a more precise word. And she was nothing if not precise. Ron unsettled her. Shook her well-groundedness. Now, shook her to the core. His hair unsettled her, persisting in her retina minutes after he left, since the beginning. Early on, it had seemed easy to place this under the flag of awkwardness. Why could she hug Harry and not him? Later on, she's admitted failure at understanding it, and merely classified it as a passing crush, maintaining proper boundaries and awkwardness. The moment it went deeper, she couldn't pinpoint for sure. One of the many times she almost lost him. Or maybe the few times that she got a hint that he felt something too. She'd gotten close to revealing herself several times. There was nothing she hated more. How fragile and powerless he made her feel, like she had to resort to pathetic moves to make him notice how much she cared. Now, it was more subtle, urgent yet profoundly unpredictable. They would all live on the run, in high danger, and she couldn't risk her feelings getting in the way. But she knew, she saw now, how he looked at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. She knew that if they got out of it alive, they'd give it a try. As far as she was concerned, she had been a goner for as long as she could tell.
And here they were. All silence and nowhere to go but here, holding on to one another until the pain receded, trying to gather themselves in the face of the elation of being at peace again, of being alive. They'd gone back to the Great Hall, where there were much less people than a few hours before. People had gone home, finally. It was so much to process for Ron. As he cried in her arms, he did not know what confused him the most; the fact that Fred was dead, that he would never be able to hear him laugh again, or the fact that he could now hold Hermione without the carefully imposed restraint he had practiced for months, arguably forever. He was aware of the rubbles around him, of Harry quietly talking to Ginny and Bill, of his mum stunned in place, of her dad holding her hand. They'd be here for a few days, probably, picking up the pieces, the bodies. There would be funerals. In a way, Hogwarts would be a bubble where they would avoid the raucous of the world outside, journalists and officials alike, wanting to hear what happened, to celebrate the bitter victory. Where would they go after? Hermione stirred at his side, the humid sensation of her cheek getting away from his forehead, in a loss of heat. 'I don't want to leave you alone, she whispered, but won't they all expect me to go home when you do?' 'Never. You and Harry, you're family, whatever happens. You're going home with us, to bury Fred.'
The first night was spent in heavy sleep. They slept like they hadn't slept for a year, the grief and relief making it easier to be sedated into a dreamless slumber. The Weasleys had decided to take their family, deconstructed and extended, home to the Burrow. Hogwarts would be repaired by the teams of Aurors and ministry officials who'd already swarmed in the evening of the Battle. They had apparated after twilight, gulped down a few sandwiches, and everyone had gone to bed. Harry and Hermione had followed, but now sat uncomfortably on the couch, feeling like outsiders who had nowhere else to go. Ron entered from the kitchen, 'Mum says that there's no way you're sleeping in the tent tonight. Come on, let's go upstairs'. He took Hermione's hand on his way to the stairs and intertwined his fingers with hers. Harry went straight to Ron's bedroom, saying a faint goodnight to both of them. In front of Ginny's door, Ron and Hermione stopped. Hermione was silent, waiting for Ron to dictate their rhythm now that she had laid herself open to him, now that he had just lost his brother. He didn't let go of her hand. 'Mione, I'm not sure what happens now. You know how I am with words, and I'm probably going to be even worse for a while now, but I need to say this before. I want you to be with me. I've wanted it for so long it feels strange to say it out loud.' He was looking down, at their joined hands, with tears in his eyes, and she gathered him in her arms, as much as her frail body could envelop his tall, solid frame. 'I'll tell you what happens. We're together now. What we mourn, we mourn together, like what we've fought, we fought together. We rest, we learn to appreciate the peace again. We lean on each other. That's what we do.' He looked up now, gazing at her like he'd never seen her before, amazed at her words. He leaned his forehead on hers, slowly. 'Now that I've got you, there's a good chance I'm never letting you go, you know that?' She smiled through her tears, 'I know.' Their lips slowly bumped into each other, their faces not acquainted with one another in that way just yet, after the passion and suddenness of their first kiss. This one was slow, full of pain and peace, but also relief. He'd pulled her tightly against him and she'd tried to get as close to him as possible. They broke away, slightly disoriented. 'Good night, Hermione'.
When he woke up, it was bright daylight, and he had to second-guess himself at finding the familiar walls and furniture of his room around him. He remembered it all. The days past, the Battle, Fred, Hermione's kiss in the Room of Retirement. It was all mixed up in a jumble of grief and elation. He looked past his bed to Harry's cot, but he wasn't there. Probably down for breakfast already. The clock said it was past noon, so he'd slept at least twelve hours. He heard a faint knock on his door, as if someone was trying to gauge if he was still sleeping or not. He stood up and opened the door to a freshly showered Hermione. Her smile was hesitant but genuine, and he ushered her in. Closing the door, he reached out his right arm to graze her cheek, 'Morning, Hermione'. She placed her hand on his. 'I thought I'd pop in and see if you wanted some breakfast, everybody is downstairs already'. He got closer to her, nestling his face in her neck, breathing it in 'You smell so good! I can't believe that yesterday I thought I'd maybe die, and never tell you how I feel, or smell your hair again, but now I can do this.' She crossed her arms on his back, settling against the door. They stayed like this a few seconds, maybe minutes. She could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest, and hoped that he could hear hers. 'You can do this, and anything you want too'. His breath came in short at her words. Strong, brilliant, proper Hermione was offering cuddles to comfort him, and it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard her say. He deposited a small kiss, then two, then three down her neck to her collarbone, suddenly feeling the elation taking over his pain, and stopped short. 'Why don't we get downstairs and get you some breakfast?' 'Promise I'll get to see you alone later too'. 'I won't have it any other way.'
They spent the afternoon outside with Harry. They didn't talk much, as if they needed to savor the lack of urgency now, the lack of danger. When they had gone down to breakfast, they hadn't even bothered to hide it by showing up a few minutes apart. They came down the stairs holding hands, not caring who would notice. All that mattered is that they needed each other now. A few people looked up and smiled with their fresher but weary faces before they shuffled to find seats around the table. Harry had helped make breakfast with Ginny, giving Mrs Weasley some time to not have to worry about providing food for all of them. They had then gone outside for some fresh air, regardless of the rain and gloomy day. They walked through the garden and countryside around. 'I know it's a crappy timing and everything, but I'm gloriously happy you two finally figured this out, Harry said'. They laughed softly at his words. 'I'm going to get back inside, see how Ginny is doing.' 'See you later mate'.
He then led her towards the wood, desperate for privacy. They were wet from the rain, but didn't seem to care. They talked about anything else, about Fred a little. Then Ron asked 'What do you think you're going to do about your parents, Mione? I mean, I know it looks like everything is about Fred and my family right now, but you must be wanting to sort this out too, right?' She stopped walking, and looked him in the eyes. He'd never get tired of her looking at him like that, like she would tell him things she wouldn't talk about with anyone else, like he was worthy of it all. She got on her tiptoe and kissed him. 'You really are so sweet, you are. I'm not sure, honestly. I should probably go and get them. Reverse the charm.' 'You want to go to Australia? When?' 'Well, I think I need a few weeks, to rest and recollect. I could stay here if that's alright.' 'What about your house? Don't you want to go check it out before you leave and see what state it's in?' 'Right, that too.' She looked at him, like she couldn't quite believe her eyes. Could it be that he had grown into such a perceptive, such a caring young man, right before her eyes? That would certainly explain why she'd fall harder and harder every time. 'Well, I'll come with you. We'll stay here for a while, and then when you're ready, we'll go. Harry will probably want to come as well.' She took his hand then, and sat them both down with a cushioning and impermeability charm. 'Ron, that's…thank you. But your family… You need each other too much right now.' He looked far ahead, nodding, then turned his face back to hers. 'I need you more. Besides, I'm never leaving you alone again, not after what I did...' He looked down then, his hand tracing circles on her knee. 'I know we're together now, but I don't expect you to ever fully forgive me for this, and I'll make it up to you, I promise.' 'Ron…' She stood on her knees then, cradling his face in her hands, trying to fully understand how broken he must have been, how insecure and small he must have felt, to leave them that time. She decided to show him, instead, how much he was worth for her. She touched his chin, made him look at her, as she was slowly advancing towards where he was sitting cross-legged. When she was close enough, she kissed him. Would he always feel so dumbfounded when she'd do that? He returned her kiss, softly at first, but he grew more passionate as he understood what she was trying to say. He brought her even closer, enclosing her in his arms, as she opened her mouth to him for an even deeper kiss. She grew frustrated and moved to straddle him, as the rain started again, but they couldn't care less. She broke away, breathless, 'Do you see? Can you tell?' He nodded, mesmerized. 'How long has it been for you', he asked. She blushed and smiled – would he ever get used to her most intimate smiles? 'A girl doesn't kiss and tell, Ron. It'd be hard to date it. It's been years, probably.' He just stared at her, his mouth slightly opened, the only sign that he heard her being his tightening grip on her waist. She continued, feeling that he needed this. 'Well, I always thought you were cute, but you were also my friend. Then, there was some jealousy with Krum, and I thought maybe there would be something. I can't tell when it went deeper than a simple crush, but I know when I understood that I was in deep.' 'Deep?' he repeated, his eyes wide open. 'The Amortentia. It smelled like you.' 'Oh', he mouthed. He kissed her then, wildly reciprocating her words with his body, but stopped after a few minutes. 'It's only fair that I tell you my side of the story now, right?' She smiled, unable to contain her excitement, that they were here, safe now, talking to each other. 'I reckon I always knew it, in the back of my daft mind; but I blocked it, because I believed so hard, like everybody else, that you'd be destined for Harry, the hero. But I don't know… after a while I guess I could see that you both were not interested in each other in that way. But at that point, I'd never have had the guts to tell you. So it was easy to shove it down. Lavender jumped at me, and soon I couldn't get rid of her, but I immediately regretted it. I'd always compare her with you, and it didn't make me like her any better. After that, I was pretty convinced I'd be crazy about you until it'd go away on its own. I never even thought you'd really want me that way… I still can't believe it. I'm such a knob!' 'Ron Weasley! You're the most adorable thing I've ever seen. And I do want you that way, for that matter. I want you that way very much.' The way she said that made him jolt, realizing again the intimate position they were in. All he could do was kiss her, and then he said: 'I think we need to adjust to this. It's a big change, to just be able to do this, to say those things.' She nodded, her breath warming his lips in the now cold air. 'I love you, Ron. We have all the time in the world.' His heart must have exploded in his chest, as she kissed him with everything she had. He crushed her mouth with his and parted just to say he loved her, right back. 'You're cold, he said, let's go back inside'. They unhooked their arms and legs, and stood up. 'Ready?' he asked, looking at her in the only way he knew how, 'Yes', she said, and they ran back to the house.