A/N: This vignette has not been beta'd and has only been edited by me the author (I in no way claim own these character's this entire plot bunny is inspired by the very creative J K Rowling).

Between Sleeping and Waking

Bluebell Flames

It was her favorite time of day. When dreams were still vivid in your mind and you weren't quite awake just floating. Not quite aware of the horrors of reality, it was a stark cold reality now that that both the wizarding and muggle world was under siege. She snuggled up to Ron's chest, burrowing her face into his maroon Weasley jumper. It was from last Christmas and he had looked a tad ridiculous so serious working out strategy on how to go about recovering the next Horcrux with Harry and herself last night when the sleeves barely reached past his elbows. He was a man, in child's clothing, something that was all too true for all three of them and many others scarred by war.

Wait a second, Ron's chest! Hermione woke with a jolt, then lay there motionless waiting to see if she had woken him up. Quiet, she listened, he wasn't snoring, not even faking it, his breath was soft and calm and warm on her neck and it sent a illicit shiver of delight down her spine. Slowly, turning her head towards him her eyes found his, and she realized that he had been watching her sleep.

He smiled, groggy with sleep. "Morning Hermione ." She lowered her gaze quickly a hot tell tale flush tinting her cheeks. A frantic thought in the back of her mind screamed that she should quickly remove herself, apologize and never speak to him again out of embarrassment but it was muffled by an unfamiliar feeling of comfort and safety. Safety which had been becoming increasingly sparse in the past few years. Fighting to regain her composure, she started to logically attempt to analyze the situation. Last night we were up late, understandably we were trying to deal with the death Alastor Moody, Harry especially since he'd gone down fighting to protect the Dursleys who had refused to port key when the wards around their home had been triggered and eventually brought down. After spending some time talking, Harry had gone off and Ron had been helping me go through some dark books that had been found in a secret compartment in Snape's desk, we were looking for clues anything that could help. And then I guess I fell asleep, against him. Perfectly innocent.

Feeling calmer now she had finished going over the chain of events that had let up to this logically understandable situation. She lifted her eyes once more and was startled by what she saw, they were a bright sky blue and they reflected all the feelings that she felt, emotions that had been their since the very beginning of their relationship. Startled she became fully aware of how intimately they were nestled. They lay on the now clean but dingy sofa at # 12 Grimmauld Place. His arm's cradled her and their feet had somehow become entwined during the night. Her breath hitched in anticipation, of what she wasn't quite sure.

"Hermione. . .?" Ron whispered questioning her long silence.

"I,uh. . .." She looked at him hoping against all hope that she had read him right. It was a short kiss, soft and light, but afterwards neither of them was sleepy anymore. He raised his hand and brushed his fingers against the underside of her jaw almost as if he wasn't sure she was really there, before leaning down and kissing her right back. Hesitant, questioning, then curious and exploring. She could feel his heart mimicking her rapid pulse. He used his arm to shift his position so that the kiss could deepen. Instinctively her hands began to roam, feeling his strong chest and his Quidditch toned abdomen in wonder at the physique he had seemingly hidden from her. He tugged playfully at her bottom lip as if trying to draw her out from the shell both of them had been hiding in. She ran her hands through his hair marveling at the texture and the feel of it. His stubble was rough and his kiss enticed and demanded and the combination was pushing both of them toward the edge. She shuddered as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot below her ear; this brought Ron back to his senses, he broke away. Confused, trying to regain her breath, Ron looked mussed and bed rumpled, and she loved it. Then he started to speak becoming more anxious by the moment.

"'Mione, I shouldn't have done that. I mean I'm sorry and if you never want to speak to me again well bloody hell!" He muttered the last bit underneath his breath. "I ruined everything..." Hermione cut him off.

"Ronald Billius Weasley, you're a prat! How dare you apologize, I kissed you first god damn it!" Hermione told him seething.

"Hermione, you cursed." Ron said in disbelief

Hermione softened a little. "Well I was bound to pick it up eventually hanging around you."

"I am sorry I shouldn't have . . ." She put a finger to his lips to silence him.

"I love you."

He didn't know what to say. She loved him? From the very beginning she had confused and frustrated him, she was a stubborn, determined and caring with a soft spot for a grumpy, ugly part cat part kneazle and house elves that didn't want to be free, she was the smartest witch he had ever known and the only woman for him. He loved her, it was that simple.

"I love you too." And just in case there was any doubt, he kissed her again.