Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

Boy, had he really stepped in it this time. Ron sighed to himself as he stared up at the slats of wood on Harry's bunk above him. She was never going to forgive him, horcrux or not. He couldn't explain what had happened the night he had decided to leave his two best friends in the woods.

The blind rage he felt had appeared out of nowhere. Well, maybe not nowhere. It had been building in him for days, mainly while he was wearing the horcrux. But he had no explanation for why he felt that way. He just knew he was angry. Then suddenly he was shouting at them and tearing out of the tent into the darkness. The look on Hermione's face, the tears in her eyes and the break in her voice as she begged him to stay, haunted his every moment. He couldn't fathom how he had walked away from her. It didn't seem like that long ago that he had been standing in front of his house in the dark, calling Harry mad for wanting to leave her behind. Maintaining that they wouldn't last two days without her. He knew as he spoke the words out loud that night, that he wouldn't last two moments without her. And now she wouldn't even speak to him.

It was no use, he was never going to get any sleep. He rolled off of his bunk and shuffled toward the opening of the tent. It didn't occur to him that Hermione was on the first watch tonight until he stepped into the night and saw her sitting there, illuminated in the light of the fire.

"Hey," he muttered and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He was secretly glad that his hair had grown so long that it partly covered his eyes. It might hide some of the shame he felt every time he looked at her.

"Hi," she replied softly. She shifted slightly and closed the book she had been engrossed in only moments before. The silence hung expectantly between them. Finally Ron found the courage to clear his throat and speak first.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She gave him a small smile and he took that as confirmation, joining her on the ground in front of the fire. Neither looked at the other, staring instead at the flames that jumped and danced in darkness. There was something comforting to Ron about a warm fire, it reminded him of home. His home at Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione. They had spent so many evenings in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Laughing, talking, telling secrets and keeping them. It was there that they had whispered about Voldemort. Where Harry had confessed to kissing Cho. Where he had first realized that he was in love with Hermione. He supposed that he had always loved her, he had just been too thick to realize it.

He remembered the night so vividly. Harry had disappeared to meet someone, nothing new there, leaving him alone with Hermione. They had been working in front of the fire on Snape's essay for what seemed like hours.

"My head hurts," Ron sighed, tossing his quill down and raking his hands through his hair.

"No surprise there," Hermione laughed, not even looking up from what she was doing. Ron frowned. She was always making quips like that lately but part of him was starting to feel like she thought they were actually true.

"Right then, thanks," he sneered, getting up and moving to stand by the window. His reaction took her by surprise and she halted her work.

"What's gotten into you?" she laughed.

"Why do you care?" he snapped. "I'm just some idiot to you aren't I, some big joke! You and Harry are the brains of this operation apparently, and I'm just the big dolt who tags along, isn't that right?"

A look of shock crossed her face as he spit the words at her. She could feel each one punctuating her, as if he had thrown each word at her chest.

"Ron…you can't be serious. You know Harry and I don't think of you that way. I was…I was just trying to have a laugh with you…" she trailed off looking at the floor. "I think you're brilliant," her voice was barely louder than a whisper and she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

A wave of shame washed over him. He felt horrible for having embarrassed her that way. He hadn't seen her this inarticulate since they were in Second Year and Malfoy had called her a Mudblood in front of everyone. A familiar feeling came over him and suddenly he felt fiercely protective of her.

He moved back to the rug and sat down beside her.

"I didn't mean to be such a twat, I'm sorry 'Mione," he muttered. A few moments of silence passed before he felt brave enough to ask. "You really think I'm brilliant?"

"I always have," she smiled as she kept her eyes carefully trained on her folded hands in her lap. "I know everyone thinks that it's Harry that's so brave and smart, and he is, don't get me wrong. But you're brilliant and fearless Ron. That move in the human chess match in first year, I knew right then that was just the beginning…"

Ron suddenly felt his heart constrict and before he could stop himself he reached out and softly lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. His stomach gave a flip as he noticed her flushed face. He opened his mouth to say something when Harry came tearing into the Common Room. He dropped his hand and they both looked away quickly, an ache forming in the pit of his stomach. Harry didn't seem to notice and began rattling on about something. But Ron didn't hear any of it, every time he glanced at her he felt like he was suddenly seeing Hermione for the first time.

That all felt so long ago now. She had probably forgotten. It seemed like they had lived a thousand years since leaving Hogwarts on the train for the last time. But the ache he felt in the pit of his stomach had remained since that day.

"I'm glad you came back," she whispered suddenly, jarring him from his thoughts. A pained look crossed his face.

"I should have never left."

He saw tears form in her eyes and she nodded.

"Please don't cry," he breathed. She sucked in a sharp breath and bit her lip, trying to stop herself as she turned her head away from him. She let out a strangled cry and that was all he needed. In seconds he was beside her, pulling her to him. Their foreheads met and he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. He cradled her face in his hands and she gripped his forearm. "I'm so sorry, " he whispered over and over as the tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Every night, I lay awake, wondering if you were dead. Thinking of all of the things I should have said to you," she choked out. He knew exactly how she felt.

"I know," he pulled back slightly and brushed back the hair that had stuck itself to her tear stained cheek. "But I don't want you to tell me."

He could see her growing confused.

"I'm here now and I don't want Voldemort to ever be the reason that you tell me anything."

"But what if we-" she began, but he cut her off instantly.

"Then I already know," he looked her straight in the eye as he said this. He wanted her to know that he would never trade what they had to have been kept safe from all of this. He would have gone back and walked into harm's way with her all over again if given a second chance.

"Ron," she whispered sadly. "I need to tell you that I-"

He couldn't let her go any further. He didn't want the words he had been waiting years to hear from her to be part of this mess they were in. If he let her say it, he would spend his whole life wondering if it was real. And he just couldn't take that chance. So he did the only thing he could think of. He swooped in and kissed her.

He hadn't meant to crash into her so forcefully. But surprisingly she returned his fervor, grabbing the front of his sweater and pulling him to her. Her lips were soft and he wove one of his hands into her hair, grabbing a handful and cradling the back of her head. She felt her back meet the tree behind her and his stubble roughly brush her hand as she cupped his cheek. All the while, her lips moving in time with his. Just when she was beginning the feel herself running out of air, she felt him pull back slightly. Her heart was racing. Hermione felt his breath on her lips and heard him whisper,

"Don't. I promise you, I know."

She opened her eyes slowly and met his. They were dark with a familiar smolder that she had seen before, months earlier across a crowded room at Charlie's wedding.

"Okay," she whispered. He paused for a moment before he continued.

"And I know that you do too."

She nodded and swallowed the words that she desperately wanted to say. It would have to wait. He seemed unsure that she understood what he meant by his last statement. But slowly he withdrew his hands anyway and moved back to where he had originally been sitting. They both stared into the fire for what felt like an eternity. Until finally she spoke.

"You can be a twat sometimes but I knew I was right back then," she said softly. He turned and looked at her, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You are brilliant and fearless Ron Weasley," she smiled. Hearing those words, his face broke into a smile. It was clear that they both clung to the same memory and Ron didn't need to hear anything else. He knew that she understood.

Author's Note: I have returned after a long hiatus! I am feeling a little rusty these days so I apologize if there are any spelling, grammar or formatting issues. Nonetheless, I really hope you enjoyed this! If you did, please let me know by reviewing and then you will likely see more like it appear soon! Inspiration for this came from the incredible track 'Timshel' by Mumford and Sons. Cheers!