A/N: Hi all! This is a multi-part fic where some of the most important younger characters of the series begin the process of healing together in the first evening after the Battle of Hogwarts. First is Ron & Hermione visiting an injured Lavender Brown. Yes, I'm aware the films (and Pottermore at one point) mentioned her as dead, but judging from the way the novel was written, there's wiggle room for her character to survive. It will be followed by Ron and Neville having a chat, then, finally, Harry and Ginny have some long-overdue bonding in the Gryffindor Common Room.

The sky was transforming into vibrant oranges and yellows as the sun began to sink beneath the nearest peaks of Hogwarts. Ron's heart was positively pounding as he ascended the stairs, Hermione's hand firmly ensconced in his.

He cursed his own heartrate. At the end of an utterly exhausting day and a half, his throat still raw from the heartfelt yells of agony he'd uttered over Harry's apparent death, with the trauma of losing Fred and being witness to many more fatalities, and with only a modicum of sleep in a corner of the Great Hall, the prospect of visiting his ex-girlfriend, grievously injured, was making him break out into a cold sweat.

As if on cue, Hermione gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Even when not looking directly at him, she'd always been able to read his mind as well as any proper Legilimens.

As they neared Madam Pomfrey's desk, Ron gave a low, hesitant cough. The Matron, who had developed significantly more grey hairs than the last time Ron had seen her, sighed resignedly.

"Mr. Weasley?" she queried, suspicion lacing her voice. "Why aren't you resti-"

"We're here to see Lavender," said Hermione firmly, covering for him. She squeezed his hand again, and Ron turned his head to admire her – still covered in welts from the cursed treasure at Gringotts, with dirt and blood covering her face, and part of the hair on one side singed from a section of the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement.

What was attracting his attention, however, was the way her irises appeared to dance animatedly at the direct eye contact. He felt a shiver go up his spine at the memory of the two times so far that they'd kissed. Granted, neither of them had been particularly romantic; their second one after all was in the middle of him half-bellowing, half-sobbing on the stairs after Fred's death and when he'd correctly deduced what Harry had done.

But by Merlin, did she know how to snog like her very life depended on it. Though amazing as it was, imagining it happening again in more romantic conditions, more slowly, deeply and sweetly, this was not the time to think along those lines….

With difficulty, he brought himself back to the situation at hand.

"She should know better," Madam Pomfrey began, a thin smile apparently playing at the corner of her lips at the silent byplay, "but she's stubborn as they come. You Gryffindors and all…."

"Is it okay if we-" Hermione began, and Madam Pomfrey beckoned them through into the Hospital Wing.

"Of course. Just be quiet; we have Mr. Finch-Fletchley, Mr. Peakes, Mr. Whitby, Miss Turpin, Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass all sleeping here along with Firenze, so be as quiet as you can," the Matron added, pressing a finger to her lips as she ushered them inside.

"Where's everyone else?" Ron asked. "St. Mungo's?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. Most of the injured have been sent there if they can Apparate. Lord knows how Miss Brown and Greengrass survived until they got here, though – it's a miracle."

"And we need all the miracles we can get," yawned Hermione and tottering slightly. "Oh! Sorry Ron," she hastily added as she stumbled and gave his arm a yank.

"And Mr. Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey's eyes were now shining with unshed tears as she looked sympathetically at Ron.

"I don't know what to say other than sending my condolences to your brothers and family. Fred and George-" she took a sniff "-really helped with your sister's recovery back so many years ago. It showed me a new side to them, and…." He words tailed off as Ron dropped his gaze and his eyes began to burn.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione in a very small voice, placing a comforting hand on Ron's back.

"For everything," elaborated Ron, closing his eyes at her touch momentarily before hesitantly looking back up at the Matron's weathered features. In an instant, his memory was drawn back to the multiple times himself and his two other companions, family now in all but name, had landed themselves under Madam Pomfrey's care.

Brushing at the corner of her eyes impatiently, Madam Pomfrey finished with a curt nod and proceeded to leave them in peace.

Hermione gave a tug on his sleeve and they proceeded towards the bed whose curtains were not drawn – Lavender had apparently insisted - according to Parvati – that she be allowed to receive visitors, despite her serious condition.

Ron peered at the apparently unconscious occupant in the bed and let out an involuntary gasp. There were nasty lacerations all over one side of Lavender's neck, presumably produced by the nasty fall from the balcony, and even worse, an application of dressings below that that extend out of sight below her dressing gown. They only partially covered what had clearly until recently been gaping wounds caused by Fenrir Greyback's teeth. He felt sick to the core – this was even worse than what Bill had faced.

At his inhalation, Lavender opened her eyes, and waved lazily at them. Ron moved to the edge of her bed as Hermione rocketed to be beside her left shoulder.

"My goodness…..Lavender," she finally managed. "Sorry we disturbed you; you need to have your rest…"

"Already had a little kip," Lavender yawned. "It's really difficult though, with this damned tonic," she added, pointing disdainfully at the voluminous contents of the Skele-Gro container.

Hermione sat herself down in the nearest bedside chair, tentatively touching Lavender's shoulder as Ron moved forwards to stand beside Hermione. Instinctively, his hands reached for her back, to give her a soothing, reassuring rub….

No sooner had his fingers brushed against the clothing there that he stopped, realizing with a flash of embarrassment that this overt act of affection was being displayed in front of his ex-girlfriend. The one with whom Hermione had endured a tempestuously icy relationship that year, and who had suspected he, Ron, of cheating on her the night Harry took his Felix Potion to speak with Slughorn. The one who had produced copious tears while furiously announcing that it was over.

He swallowed nervously as Hermione turned to look at him, but he for now only had eyes for the convalescent girl in front of him. Much to his surprise, behind the clearly pallid, fatigued face, her eyes were sparkling.

She was smiling. Not a forced one, either.

He was unable to stop a goofy grin of relief from spreading across his lips, and before he realised what was happening, both Lavender and Hermione let out an almost conspiratorial set of chortles, though it was promptly put to an end by Lavender hissing in pain and clutching her ribs.

"Lavender!" Ron rushed forwards to gently restrain her as she looked like she was about to get up. "Please lie down – Hermione and I will sort you out." Lavender, paling once more, nodded and closed her eyes with a shiver as she lay back on her pillow.

"That's my ribs and right arm broken, a whole lot of blood lost, internal injuries, exposure and…..this," she finished, gesticulating with disgust at the cursed wounds that Greyback had left behind. "According to Madam Pomfrey, I should've been killed three times over."

"We got him," Ron reassured her. "He can't hurt anyone ever again." Lavender nodded in satisfaction.

"I know," she mumbled, opening her eyes once more. "Seamus told me both you and Neville got him. Where is he now?"

Ron gulped. Satisfied as he was that Greyback could no longer kill or maim, it was still horrible to think that he and Neville had brought about the end of someone's life. "Blown out of a window," he replied simply, as Hermione squeezed his hand.

Lavender let out a small smile. "I don't know if I should feel guilty…..being happy at the thought he's dead."

Ron smiled. "No, you shouldn't. Yes, I wanted to get at him for….for Bill, and for…." He cut off, pausing to stare at Hermione. To think that she'd been offered by Bellatrix to Greyback like she were dog biscuits…..

"….anyway, yeah, I wanted to punish him and all the other pricks for Fred, Harry and everyone else, but in the end it was self-defence….I think."

"It's okay," breathed Lavender. "Between all of us, we've all likely faced absolute horrors the last year..."

"Tell me about it," Ron muttered, turning to raise an eyebrow at Hermione.

"….but you three probably have taken the cake," she finished.

"It isn't a competition," Hermione said firmly; in the glow of the setting sun, the cut left behind by Bellatrix's blade on her throat was highlighted. "You've been incredible, Lavender…..I'm sorry I-"

"Dismissed me as an airheaded bimbo?" Lavender finished, contempt entering her voice as a patch of red entered her cheeks. Hermione blushed and looked at her shoes.

"No….um, that's not what I meant…"

"You're a terrible liar, Hermione," she snapped. "Because you're right; I was. In retrospect, anyway. Thank Merlin for Neville, Ginny, Luna and Hannah for preparing us."

"Hannah?" Hermione queried, her brows knotted in thought.

Lavender waved a hand. "Yes. She and Neville got pretty close this year – the sight of Luna being abducted brought back bad memories for her about hearing her mum being murdered, you remember that?"

"Good on Neville," said Ron affirmatively. "Did he talk about his parents, or something?"

Lavender shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, only to grimace once more. "Bloody Skele-Gro. Um, not sure, but likely. You've seen how much he's grown – in helping people confront their worst demons, leading, opening up."

"Think we all have," yawned Hermione. "Sorry about that. On another note, you think there might be, you know….something there?"

"You mean a romantic connection?" said Lavender. "Almost certainly, though you know Neville, he's a very private person. Not that I've been trying to catalogue my housemates' love interests or anything, but until then I was sure it was going to be Luna. Parvati agreed."

"So did I," Ron admitted sheepishly; it felt good, if even for a few minutes, to act like a teenager, even though the horror of what had transpired, along with Fred's body, lay beyond the Hospital Wing doors. He turned to gauge Hermione's reaction. A smirk was slowly eating its way across her features. "What?"

"Nothing."

Lavender was right, she was a terrible liar. One he of course loved dearly.

A stomach rumbled somewhere, but Ron knew that it wasn't his, for once. He and Hermione looked at each other, before staring back at Lavender suspiciously. She rolled her eyes.

"Must be the aftermath of the Battle, or that I've been having nothing but fluids since last night, but I'm really hungry for some steak."

"Steak?" Ron repeated, unable to stop his smirk. Honestly, though, if the worst Lavender suffered from Greyback's attack in the long term was pangs for bloody meat like Bill, then she would be absolutely fine.

"Shut up," she snapped. "It's bizarre. Usually hate the stuff."

"Raw?" Ron suggested, but Hermione elbowed him. "Careful, Won-Won," she breathed into his ear almost seductively. Ron shivered. He did not need that nickname used by the girl he'd fancied – no, been in love with - the whole time.

"Thank you Hermione," Lavender nodded appreciatively. "All jokes aside, I'm kind of scared what I'll see when I confront a mirror for the first time."

"Relax, Lavender," he said bracingly. "You don't have anything to worry about. You saw what Seamus was like earlier in the day."

"And that's irrelevant, anyway," added Hermione conclusively. "All those scars show is that you were brave and committed to stopping the Death Eaters." She leaned forwards and stroked Lavender's palm reassuringly.

"You're a lovely person, Lavender. I…I just haven't been one to have usually appreciated it. But it is true." She looked meaningfully at Ron, who was temporarily dumbfounded as to what to say. Lavender was his ex-girlfriend, after all, and doing so in the company of his now sort-of girlfriend wasn't something he was comfortable with. Nevertheless, the situation called for a contribution.

He chose humour.

"She's always right, Lavender, where have you been?" A flash of inspiration hit him as he rolled up his sleeve. The swirly patches of light-covered skin were all over the upper reaches of his arms and, he knew, around the base of his neck.

"Know what these are?" Lavender looked perplexed, but Ron, now blushing a little, understood why. Truth be told, they had always been far too focused on chewing on each other's lips to initiate conversations about their hobbies, dark secrets and their fears.

"They're scars from the Ministry of Magic," he added. "We were dueling Death Eaters while trying to save Harry's godfather, and I got attacked by a brain in the Department of Mysteries. Damn near killed me." He glanced at Hermione, and her expression had softened. Well, he reasoned, Hermione had labelled him an insensitive wart not too many years beforehand, so continuing to break that stereotype was welcome as far as he was concerned.

"So that's myself, Harry and Bill with scars. And all of us have one thing in common – attracting people who are well and truly out of our league…."

"Oh please," Hermine muttered, but her expression was radiant as she stared directly back at him with a small smile; Ron's heart skipped a beat. He'd give any amount of Galleons to have that look thrown at him every morning….

"I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yeah," he muttered, pulling himself back to the present. "Look at Bill, Lavender! He now looks like a gnarly Bowtruckle, but he's got the hottest lass from France fawning over him as we speak."

Hermione shot him a glare as Lavender giggled, causing him to blanch and mouth "sorry" at his irate companion, but as he turned to face the injured girl, he swore that out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione shoot Lavender a conspiratorial wink.

"Yeah, he'd know," whispered Lavender to Hermione with blatant mischief as Ron sank his face into his hands. "She's my sister-in-law!" he complained. "Never remind me about Fourth Year again."

"You mean like the remains of the Krum figurine Ginny found last year?" teased Hermione as Lavender let out something resembling a cross between a squeal and a giggle.

Positively scowling now, Ron drew out his wand and cast Muffliato to ensure that no-one would be disturbed.

"Viktor Krum?" giggled Lavender. "That was so long ago….." She leaned forwards towards Ron and let out a resigned sigh. "I should have remembered. Should have realised that….the events of Sixth Year were futile and stupid."

"Easy, now," Ron whispered back. "It was my fault." He looked at Hermione. "I'm not sure if I told you this, Hermione, or if this is the right place to say it." He looked at Lavender, who did her best to shrug. "It's okay," she said quietly. "Those times have long gone - you can speak freely around me, I promise." Ron smiled and turned to face Hermione, ears burning.

"I….guess I got really upset when Ginny told me about you and Krum."

"What do you mean?" she replied sharply. Ron looked morosely at the floor. It felt so wrong to be admitting this in front of his ex-girlfriend, and at a time when his whole family was in mourning, but he bizarrely felt encouraged to continue.

He threw his mind back to the sinking sensation in his stomach as an infuriated, aggravated Ginny let slip that Hermione had snogged Krum, followed by her belittling his romantic experience as that of a twelve year old. If only he and Harry had come up a different passageway that night….

…he and Hermione might have actually gone together to Slughorn's Christmas party. Then what?

"Harry and I bumped into her and Dean. I….guess I acted out of order, and she mentioned I had no right to criticise because of Harry and Cho, and you being with Viktor. I'm-" He cut off. What could he say in this situation?

He nodded to Lavender.

"I know she liked me at the time, and, well…..I made a hurtful choice." He shrugged his shoulders morosely. "There, the end."

He looked up in time to see Hermione roll her eyes slowly and nod in satisfaction to herself. "I always wondered," she said tentatively. "I wondered if it was something similar to that."

"Men," muttered Lavender from behind him. "Not though that you're one to talk, Hermione. I knew full well what the McLaggen invite was for! Really, how could I be so stupid?"

Ron turned back to face her.

"Because you were desperate to make it work," he whispered. "That's understandable. I….I shouldn't have pulled you along like that-"

"I'm over it now." There was a tense air of finality to Lavender's comment. "In my heart of hearts, I always knew something would erupt between you two, and I was selfish for stymieing it-"

"Please Lavender," Hermione interrupted. "None of us acted perfectly." She peered more closely at Lavender's frown. "Do you know when we actually got together?"

Lavender shrugged her shoulders.

"Middle of the battle," Ron clarified, his lips twitching upwards. "It was my suggestion about evacuating the elves that did it." At this, Lavender beamed. "How fitting," she whispered back. "But you mean to say that nothing happened before then? End of Sixth Year?"

Ron, now blushing furiously, opened his mouth, but to his relief, Hermione answered for him. "Nothing did happen. That night you and Ron split, Harry was with us, under his Cloak, off to do something else for Dumbledore. All we were doing was chatting with him about it."

Lavender's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as Ron exhaled in relief. "I…I did a lot of awful things that year," he said shakily. "But cheating was never going to be one of them. Never. And not even for Hermione."

Lavender nodded in satisfaction. "Always knew there was something bizarre about that night. Dean pushing Ginny through the Portrait Hole." A thought appeared to cross her mind. "Hang on, did Harry have his Felix potion that night?"

Ron rolled his eyes to high heaven in affirmation.

"Not that I suspect it made any difference," came the voice of Hermione from behind Ron. "It was only a matter of time before they separated. Both Harry and Ginny after all were shooting glances when the other wasn't looking."

Lavender closed her eyes and hissed as another spasm of pain hit her.

"It'll be good to have my ribcage back in one piece," she growled. "What did they do with You-Know-Who?"

"Call him Voldemort, or Tom Riddle," said Hermione. "There's no need to fear his name any longer. He's been moved to another location for cremation and burial." At that, Lavender frowned.

"I occasionally heard Ginny and Harry mentioning the name 'Tom.' Why would she know?" Ron felt a surge of anger in his gut as he remembered the sickening messages painted in red on the walls, the hissing of what he originally assumed was a broken water pipe in the wall beside him, of Ginny's frail, tremulous mental state that year, of Hermione's eyes frozen open as though hit by a Killing-

Stop that.

On cue, Hermione leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. As he felt his face heat up once again, he reflected that he'd have to get used to this new normal. "Tell her," she whispered. Ron nodded silently. He addressed his next words to Lavender

"You probably heard about how Ginny was abducted and attacked, yes? Well, it was because Malfoy's father gave her Voldemort's school diary. She wrote in it, and it wrote back, using the name of Tom Riddle, as Voldemort was called when he was younger. She began to consider 'Tom' as a friend, but Voldemort actually was using that diary as a weapon. He murdered people and as a result split his soul, and concealing fragments in various objects, making them dangerous creations called Horcruxes. They made him immortal. So, a bit of his soul possessed her, and forced her to release the Basilisk on students, including…"

"You, Hermione," Lavender finished. "So that's what you've been looking for this whole time? Parts of his soul."

"Just so," sighed Hermione. "It's a relief we can now tell people – we couldn't in case he caught on."

"Dumbledore forced Harry to agree," added Ron. "Anyway, Harry destroyed the Diary, saving her life. So we've spent the whole year destroying these things, and when Neville killed the snake, Harry could finish him off." He wondered if he should elaborate that Harry had sacrificed himself to destroy the part of Voldemort's soul imbedded in himself, but it felt inappropriate to do so. Not yet.

"You're thinking of Harry's sacrifice, aren't you?" Lavender enquired softly. He jumped a little. "Oh, yeah." It had been two long days, he reflected. So much won, and yet also, so much and so many lost.

He jumped up all of a sudden.

"Where are you going?" Hermione demanded. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Probably go see Neville or Seamus before turning in. Please, Hermione," he added. "You can stay with Lavender for a little longer. I'll be fine."

"Give your family my best!" called out Lavender. Ron nodded and turned to face her. She still looked terribly ill, but some colour had returned to her face, thankfully.

"And I'm really sorry about Fred," she added seriously. Ron nodded again, and felt once more a burning sensation behind his eyes.

"Thank you Lavender," said Hermione quietly, slipping her hand into Ron's as Ron leaned to kiss her on the temple. Out of focus, he could see Lavender's nod of approval. "You okay with getting back to the Common Room?"

She beamed back at him. "Fine, Ron. We'll all be fine from here on in. See you there."

As Ron nodded farewell to Lavender, he let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. Yes, it was fantastic to see that she was on the road to recovery, and that they were now on amicable terms. At the same time, any mention of Fred still pierced him like an arrow. He realised that he now had just an inkling of what Harry might have felt after the combined deaths of Cedric, Sirius and Dumbledore in previous years.

But the grief would fade in time, he thought as he pulled out the Marauders' Map, scanning for a familiar name.

…..

"You're so fortunate," Lavender said quietly, apparently noticing that Hermione was still facing the figure of Ron walking away.

"We are," she agreed, feeling her cheeks heat up with pleasure. It felt inappropriate to even be thinking about such matters when dozens of people had laid down their lives for hers, Ron's and Harry's cause. And so many more injured, like Lavender.

She turned to face the injured girl, who had paled once more.

"You need anything, Lavender?" she queried. Lavender sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Not really, Hermione. Madam Pomfrey has me covered…." She tailed off, a slow ripple of revulsion and horror erupting across her face as she stared at Hermione's face.

Hermione?" she queried. "I….I don't know what on earth you three faced out there, but….what happened?" Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean," she replied. Lavender's lip trembled as she took a claming breath and stared gravely back at her.

"Hermione," she began, lowering her voice. "You have a thin scar on your neck. Who…..who did this?" Beneath the revulsion, Hermione could detect seething anger in Lavender's voice.

She closed her eyes and let out a shudder as she once again heard Bellatrix's taunting voice.

"That was just a taster… The sooner this is over, the sooner it can be over for you. If you don't tell the truth this time, I will drag your friends up here, and they can watch me spill your filthy blood all over this floor, pint by pint. Now, when did you go sneaking into my vault at Gringotts? That sword is supposed to be IN MY VAULT!"

"I've never been into your vault!" Hermione gulped. "I- we've never taken anything! How could we? We couldn't get past the Goblins-"

"CRUCIO!"

On and on it had gone…..

"Bellatrix," she positively gasped out. "We….we got captured and taken to Malfoy Manor. She wanted to know how we'd obtained the Sword of Gryffindor – that's a long story," she added, as Lavender opened her mouth to interject – "and she had her way with me."

"My God," Lavender exclaimed quietly, putting her hands up to her face. "How….how did you…"

"Ron and Dobby the house elf. Harry managed to use an enchanted mirror to get help from Aberforth, and Dobby was sent to help us. House elves can do things we can't – like Apparating in and out of Hogwarts," she finished breathlessly.

"Don't ever change, Hermione," Lavender smiled thinly. "So Ron and Dobby saved your life?"

"Yes they did," she answered, shivering at what had happened to the bravest elf she'd ever known. "But Dobby got killed by Bellatrix. He – he-" Words failed her as for the first time since the battle itself, tears began to sting her eyelids.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Lavender began in a small voice. "I didn't mean to upset you about asking. It's just….I needed to talk to someone who understood. Do you know what I mean?"

Hermione turned back to face Lavender, who had now sank back onto her pillows. Her dorm-mate had always been so optimistic, chirpy, flirtatious and lively to the point of irritation, and it still hurt her to see her so vulnerable and frail.

"You can tell me anything," she whispered. "If….if that's what you need to do." Lavender nodded and Hermione leaned in, doing her best to ignore the lacerations left by Greyback. Cursed wounds, she thought.

"It's just that when I was lying there after that animal attacked me, I thought I was going to die – alone, surrounded by….all this death. My friends were all still fighting, some just metres from where I was, but they couldn't get to me….it was too dangerous. And I couldn't do anything to help them." She trembled and closed her eyes as Hermione took one of her hands in her own. At the contact, Lavender's eyes fluttered open again. Hermione recognised the haunted look in them. She'd seen it countless times on Harry's face, and also multiple times on Ron and Ginny.

"I'm so sorry about how I treated you," she whispered. "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor for a reason, Lavender. "

"Thanks, Hermione." Lavender's voice was more slurred from fatigue than ever.

"I can go if you want. You need some sleep-" she began, but Lavender shook her head vehemently.

"No, Hermione," she shot back, and Hermione winced at the renewed sharpness in her tone. "What do I have to look forward to? Nightmares, that's what." She sat up once again, looking at Hermione minutely.

"You know what it's like, thinking you're going to die, don't you, Hermione? Dying alone?"

Hermione nodded, turning away from Lavender.

"First time I thought I was going to die would've been in First Year," she said aloud, playing with her fingers as she mused on the extraordinary number of escapes she, Harry and Ron had been party to. "The encounter with the Basilisk was scary enough, but I was absolutely certain that I was a goner when Dolohov cursed me during the battle in the Ministry in our Fifth Year. But…..this last time was different. I still can't get her out of my head, nor of Ron bawling my name out from below….."

"He's a good man, Ron," said Lavender, and Hermione was surprised to hear the total lack of dreaminess in her voice. Man. It felt like such a bizarre phrase. It still felt like yesterday that they were squabbling teenagers. When had they all become adults? They'd all grown up far too quickly, especially Harry and Ginny.

"I know," she replied shyly, feeling the blush beginning to burn across her face once more. With difficulty, she turned back to face Lavender.

"Do you think he'll soon be okay?"

"He will," she said confidently. "He was far worse when I was being tortured, actually. We all grieve in different ways, Lavender. Ron's actually a lot better at letting stuff out than Harry. With Harry, he tends to keep his emotions bottled up until they erupt. Good thing Ginny likes a challenge."

Lavender laughed as she also, in spite of herself, smirked.

"Harry has a temper, really?" The other girl chortled sarcastically. "I never noticed. All that yelling with Seamus at the start of Fifth Year-"

"Speaking of Seamus," Hermione cut across her – "are he, Parvati and Dean going to be visiting tomorrow morning?"

"Yes," replied Lavender confidently, a slight flush of pleasure beginning to return to her cheeks. "If I hadn't put my foot down and ordered them to get some rest themselves, Seamus and Parvati would still be here with me now. Idiots."

"The ones we love tend to be," added Hermione conspiratorially as Lavender shot her another wink. She now innately knew that her relationship with Lavender had changed irrevocably. It wouldn't be her closest by a long shot, but they'd opened up to each other more in ten minutes than in the best part of a decade. She was suddenly hit by a dizzying rush of fatigue. A bed was clearly calling her name in Gryffindor Tower. Whether it was the sofa, hers, or even Ron's, didn't matter.

"Why did it ….you know…happen then? You and Ron?" Hermione was still shocked to hear questions about Ron from Lavender that weren't laced with jealousy. In a flash, Hermione remembered the way a dizzying rush of adrenaline, fear and affection had burst through her defences like a toppling dam when Ron had mentioned the elves' security.

"I think we both knew we loved each other after Malfoy Manor," she whispered. Somehow, divulging more loudly the feelings for Ron that she'd until recently struggled to acknowledge to herself felt wrong. "But we both knew we…..we couldn't. Stopping Voldemort and getting rid of his Horcruxes…being there for Harry all the way was the only thing that mattered. Last night, we'd destroyed another one, and it was then I – I realised I just couldn't."

"Couldn't what?" whispered back Lavender animatedly. Hermione swallowed nervously.

"That I couldn't let myself die without letting Ron know. Properly. He was worrying about everyone – yes, even the Hogwarts elves - and I went for it. In front of Harry, no less."

"Fair enough," replied Lavender, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at the way the other girl was grinning like a thief back at her.

"It was the best decision I ever made," she whispered conspiratorially, getting to her feet as Lavender let out another chuckle.

"I'd best be off," she yawned. "Goodnight, Lavender."

"Goodnight Hermione, sweet dreams. And….I don't know how to thank-"

"You don't have to thank me for anything," she replied primly. "We'd have done the same for Draco Malfoy – in fact, we did. But that's another story…."

"I'm excited to hear it. See you tomorrow?" Lavender asked hopefully, raising her hand in farewell.

"See you tomorrow, then, Lavender."