Just a little one shot I wrote during a layover in an airport over the weekend, flying back from a conference. I hope you enjoy it - and feel free to look at my other two R/H Fics - The Good Life & Feel Again!

"Thanks for sitting with me."

Her voice was hoarse and light, barely audible as she sat shoulder to shoulder with Ron in the middle of the yard at the Burrow. Hermione absently found her way outside after a sullen dinner, unsure of where her place was. It was the first time in months where she didn't have an urgent need to do something, or a feeling of overwhelming desperation to be the anchor for everyone. She didn't know what to do with this feeling of not needing to worry, or to construct a plan that would most likely unravel within the first ten minutes - and if it lasted ten minutes, they most certainly considered themselves lucky.

"I reckon I'm right where I'm supposed to be," Ron replied, sighing as he felt her head lean against his arm. "You think he'll be alright?"

"George?"

"Yeah."

She nodded slightly. "He will be."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, looking down at the top of her head. He assumed she was just as filthy as he was, considering neither had properly bathed in ages. Harry locked himself in the bathroom when they arrived at the Burrow, no one daring to bother him. Though after an hour, Ginny had clearly had enough and barged in, finding him asleep on the floor in his clothes. "How uh…how have you been feeling?"

She knew what he was referencing, and was glad he didn't utter the words since being tortured. Her adrenaline numbed most of the pain and after effects of Bellatrix's cruciatus curse, but now that she'd been still, she could feel the pain in her joints and muscles. "I've been better," she said, feigning a laugh as his hand found hers.

"If you want I could uh…run you a bath, eh? Maybe you'd feel better?" Ron suggested.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. Reaching a hand up, she dragged a thumb against the stubble on his cheek and chin. "You're awfully sweet when you want to be, Ronald Weasley."

A slight chuckle escaped his lips as his cheeks blushed. "I don't think I've ever heard you speak my full name without a command or shout of sorts behind it."

"Probably because you've never given me a reason to," she teased. "Until now, of course."

"Of course," Ron replied, his pale cheeks tinting pink. He stood up to his feet and held out his hand to Hermione, gently pulling her upright. He noticed every wince she made on the way up and had to suppress the rage he felt. After all, Bellatrix was dead - his mother made sure of it - and she could never come back to hurt Hermione again. "You sure you're alright?"

"It's just because we aren't constantly moving," Hermione said. "I was reading about the side effects earlier today, and the muscle stiffness and spasms should go away over time." She kept a hold of one of Ron's hand and allowed him to lead the way back to the house, limping with each step. "Not so fast," she said, trying to laugh off the pain she felt radiating through her body with barely two steps taken.

He stopped and turned to look at her. "Come here," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. Before she could protest, he let go of her hand and put his other arm up underneath her knees, picking her up as if she were as light as a feather. Her arms wrapped up around his neck, her head resting back on his shoulder. "I'll help you upstairs and into a bath, alright?" he said, speaking quietly into her ear.

She only nodded, keeping her face buried into his chest as they walked inside. She didn't want to look weak to the others, but Hermione also couldn't deny how much her body hurt. She heard him ask for Ginny to follow, and his mother questioning her being, but was glad that Ron was able to deflect what she assumed was many questioning stares in the kitchen. Hermione held on tighter as Ron carried her up the flights of stairs until they reached the landing where his bedroom was, the bathroom right across the hall.

"Ginny, can you help her get undressed?" Ron asked as the walked into the bathroom.

"Of course," she replied. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm just sore…and the pain is getting to me because there's nothing to distract me from it," Hermione replied as Ron sat her down on top of the closed toilet. She smiled at him wearily as he squatted down in front of her, and reached out to run her fingers through his shaggy red hair. "Thank you," she said, rather quietly.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers as if he'd done it a thousand times. "You don't need to thank me," Ron replied, before kissing her again. "I'll come back up and check on you once Ginny gets you settled, ok?"

Hermione managed a nod as he stood back up. "Al-alright."

Ginny, completely astounded at the scene she just witnessed, stared at her brother as he walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Her eyes wide, she stared at her only real girlfriend and could barely make out a few squeaks before she found the ability to form words. "Merlin's beard please tell me that wasn't your first kiss!"

Shaking her head, Hermione chuckled slightly as she made a feeble attempt to peel her shirt off of her body. "No…that was during the battle." She watched as Ginny wrenched the handles of the bathtub quickly and added a healthy dose of bath suds to the mix.

"So does that mean you're dating?" Ginny asked with glee.

"Who knows," Hermione replied. "I hope so…but with everything that's happened…emotions are running all over the place with everyone…I don't know."

"He's been in love with you for ages, Hermione," Ginny said. "And the look he gave Mum when he carried you into the kitchen, daring her to say something about carrying you…it was epic."

Hermione yanked her arm out of her sleeve and stifled a moan of pain by biting her bottom lip. "I don't want your mother to be angry."

"Here, let me help," Ginny said, trying to alleviate her friend's pain by carefully tugging the shirt off the rest of the way. "I don't think she was angry - I think she was just stunned. Her little Ronnie isn't a boy anymore." Ginny had yet to hear the entire story of what happened with the three of them, but the bruises, scrapes, and scars clearly visible against Hermione's gaunt frame spoke volumes. "Bloody hell," she gasped. "Hermione, what…what happened to you?"

Hermione braced a hand of hers on the sink and pulled herself up so that she could unbutton her jeans and shimmy them down her equally marred legs. "I think the better question is what didn't happen to me...or really, to us."

His parents greeted Ron and Harry as he reached the bottom of the stairs, while Bill and Fleur looked on from the kitchen table. "George still upstairs?" he asked.

Molly nodded, moving so that Ron could walk past them. "I just collected his plate earlier…while you and Hermione were outside. He ate…so I feel a little bit better, but he still won't come out of his room. He did let Charlie into his room, so I supposed that's a bit of progress."

"Fleur?" Ron asked, walking past his mother. "Can you go check on Hermione for me?"

Fleur nodded, wiping her hands off with the towel she was using to dry the dishes. "Zee looked like zee was not moving well earlier, non?"

Ron nodded, not wanting to say much else. Fleur helped mend Hermione back together after Malfoy Manor, and could only hope that she would be able to help Hermione again with her pain.

"Let me zee what I brought in my bag," she replied, and disappeared out of the kitchen.

Molly tossed her hands onto her hips and gave both Ron and Harry a good stern look. "One of you better start talking about what happened to you three out there. Hermione looks like the wind could blow her over, the whole lot of you are scraped and bruised, and I demand to know what happened!"

Ron ignored his mother, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table and walking out the door. Arthur placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder, and Harry gave the only mother figure he'd ever known a hug. "I promise we'll tell you…all of you. We just can't right now," Harry said. "It's a really complicated story."

"It's alright," Arthur assured Harry. He nodded towards the open front door. "Check on him, will you? I'm not sure it'll do any of us any good if we follow him."

Harry sighed. "If it has to do with Hermione…probably not."

"Harry…are the two of them…" Arthur tried to ask without asking.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Together? You never know with those two. All I know is that he's in love with her and finally realized it when we got to Shell Cottage, and she's been in love with him since fourth year. I hope they're together, because I honestly don't know if I can survive the two of them being apart for much longer."

"They're together," Molly definitively stated with a smile. "A mother knows these sorts of things, you know. I knew it when he looked at me a moment ago."

"I have to agree," Bill added as he put away the last dinner dish. "And all I can say is that it's about bloody time."

"You have no idea," Harry replied. "No idea at all." Making sure he had his wand on him - a reflex after the last year he'd had, Harry walked outside and spotted Ron picking up a blanket out in the middle of the yard and folding it up. Approaching him, Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat to let Ron know he was there. "You alright, mate?"

Ron shook his head. "Not really."

"Is Hermione alright?"

"Not really," he repeated. "Though she's too bloody stubborn to admit it."

"She can't be too stubborn if she let you carry her into the house."

"I didn't really give her an option."

Harry laughed. "Exactly. And since when has Hermione ever allowed herself not to have a say in anything?"

Ron smirked as he folded up the old wool blanket the two of them were perched upon earlier a final time. "I reckon your right about that." Sighing, he tucked the folded blanket up under his arm and looked at his best friend. "Her entire body hurts from that bloody curse, and there's not a thing I can do about it and I can't stand it, Harry. I can't bloody stand it."

Harry nodded. "I know, mate. I've had nightmares about it since it happened."

"And Mum's right about her - she barely weighs nothing," Ron added. "She was about as heavy to carry as this ruddy blanket."

"That's easily fixed," Harry replied. "I think your mother is on a mission to feed us until we look like our regular selves…which should only take a week with how Molly cooks."

Ron agreed. "I don't plan on stopping Mum, either. I've missed her food."

"We all have," Harry added.

The two of them stood in silence, the summer hum of crickets intermittently making their presence known. Ron scratched the back of his head and sighed again. "I love her."

"Believe me, I'm aware."

Ron looked Harry in the eye. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me? For leaving?"

"I'm pretty sure she already has," Harry replied with a crooked grin. "Because if she hadn't, she certainly wouldn't have thrown herself at you for worrying about the Hogwarts elves."

Ron chuckled. "I reckon you're right about that."

"Besides - she loves you too. And if she wasn't mad at you about one thing or another, I would think something was wrong."

"Funny," Ron snarked. "We don't fight all the time."

"Only when you're awake."

Ron gave his best mate a playful shove in the arm, which Harry returned with equal enthusiasm. Suddenly, the silence between the two of them became palpable once more. Dropping the blanket under his arm, Ron raked his hands with frustration through his shaggy red hair and groaned. "I can't stand that she's hurt, Harry. It's making me feel ill."

Harry braced a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, Ron. I don't feel any better about it either. She's like my own sister. I've been beating myself up about it since it happened…but there was nothing we could have done. We're lucky she isn't dead, and I just have to keep reminding myself that because the thought of her…not being here-"

"Stop it. Don't say any more," Ron spoke quickly, swallowing hard. "Because if you say it I will definitely become ill."

"Yeah," Harry replied with a heavy sigh. He kicked at some grass before bending down to grab the discarded blanket. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Does it involve you dating my sister?"

"Um…not really, but I mean, if she's done being upset with me for leaving her…would you care? If I asked her to, well, be my girlfriend again?"

Ron shrugged, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "No…I reckon not…just as long as you don't hurt her."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I could say the same to you about Hermione − because that's what I was going to ask about. Are you two together?"

"I think so," Ron said. "I mean, she did kiss me, right there in the middle of the battle. That has to count for something, especially coming from her."

"You mean you two haven't talked about it?"

"We were kind of busy there towards the end, and then coming back today, dealing with George and Fred…" Ron trailed off with a sigh. "You think she's mad at me for not saying something about it?"

"I mean, you're going to have to talk about it eventually, right?"

Ron sighed again. "You don't suppose I can't just keep kissing her until she figures it out, do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hello, have you met my other best friend, Hermione Granger, who likes to talk about everything?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said with a snort. "I get the point." He stared up towards the top of the burrow, seeing the light of the bathroom emitting a glow as one of the few lit rooms in the house. He scratched an itch under his nose with a rub of his finger and inhaled sharply, exhaling slowly. "I love her."

"I know you do."

Ron looked over at Harry. "This is different…not like how I was with Lavender."

Harry smirked. "Believe me, mate - I know."

"Because she's it for me. I don't want anyone else," Ron added, shocked at how admitting his feelings for Hermione out loud didn't make him flinch with fear.

"Well, as much as I'm enjoying hearing this, you probably ought to tell it to her," Harry said, nodding his head in the direction of the Burrow. "She's only been waiting to hear it since we were fourteen." He waved a hand at Ron and started walking towards the house. "Come on - you know you want to check on her."

"Yeah," Ron said with a nod, walking in step with his best friend back inside.

Upon entering the kitchen, the two of them found Molly and Arthur sitting at the kitchen table, both of their eyes red rimmed and glossy. Arthur immediately attempted to put on a bright face for Harry and Ron, while Molly quickly looked away so she could dab her eyes with a handkerchief clenched in her hand.

"You boys alright?" Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice even as he spoke.

Harry and Ron both nodded. "Mum?" Ron asked. "Are you alright?"

A bright, albeit forced smile crossed Molly's face as she stood up from the table and approached the two of them. She gave Harry a hug and a peck on the cheek before facing her son - her youngest son who had somehow when she wasn't looking, evolved into a man. She cupped his cheeks with her hands and brushed her thumbs against his cheekbones before moving them to embrace him tightly. "I'm so glad you're safe, Ronnie," she said with teary eyes. "I was so worried about the three of you."

"Hermione took good care of us," Harry said with a smile. "Like Ron said before we started - we wouldn't have lasted two days without her."

Molly looked up at Ron with a motherly stare. "Well, it's your turn to take care of her now, Ronnie."

"I know," he replied.

"She's very special, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you that."

Ron nodded. "You don't, I promise. I…I love her, Mum. I really do."

Molly stood up on her tiptoes so that she could peck her youngest, but now tallest son's cheek. "Good. I'll work on moving Harry's things into Charlie's room, and Hermione's things out of Ginny's room and into yours."

He could feel his cheeks burning red. "Mum…Mum, what are you - why would you -"

The matriarch of the Weasley family pointed a firm finger into her son's chest. "It's your turn to take care of her now," she repeated. "And out of the three of you, she looks the worst. If you love her like you say you do, you'll take care of her."

"She's right, son," Arthur added, slowly walking towards them with a limp of his own from the battle at Hogwarts. "If she's taken care of you as you say, it's only right that you return the favor."

Ron wasn't sure if he could be any more embarrassed, though he wasn't sure why he felt that way to begin with. There was nothing embarrassing about how he felt about Hermione, and she certainly didn't embarrass him in general. Then again, his parents were essentially giving him permission to share a room with her before he'd even had the chance to see if Hermione would even take him up on the offer, so that was enough to warrant some blushing, in his opinion.

"You're a good man, Ron," Arthur added with a smile.

Rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, Ron looked up at his father and gave him a nod. "Right…um…thanks. I'm just going to uh, check on Hermione."

"Of course! Go!" Molly insisted, shooing him away with her crumpled handkerchief.

Ron knew a chance to bolt when he saw one, and couldn't help but grin when he heard his mother start to ask Harry about Ginny and his 'intentions.' He leapt up the stairs two at a time, pulling himself up with his hands on the rails until he reached his bedroom floor. He supposed he should thank his mother for putting his room close to the top, because the endurance it took to climb those stairs on a regular basis definitely worked in his favor when he was alone, trying to avoid snatchers at every turn. Reaching the bathroom door, he rapped his knuckles against the battered wooden door in desperate need of a paint job waited for a response. Eventually, Ginny opened the door and walked outside, staring at her brother in an eerie, Molly Weasley like way.

Suddenly, he felt his sister's hand smack him upside the head. "Bloody hell! What was that for!"

"You know what it's for," Ginny snapped, before launching herself onto him, hugging her brother tight. "You're a complete idiot, you know that!" she cried, sniffling slightly. "Leaving them! You're lucky you found them! You're lucky you weren't…that you weren't…"

He felt his sister's tears begin to soak through his thin maroon t-shirt, and Ron kept ahold of his sister as she silently cried. "It wasn't my brightest moment, I'll admit," he said, trying his best to soothe his sister's cries. "But there's a lot to the story that even Hermione doesn't know."

"I…I don't care…" Ginny said through her sniffles. "You could have been hurt!"

Ron let go of his sister as she began to release the clutch hold he had on her. "Look - I've been beating myself up about it the moment I left. I promise…I know it was stupid. But it's all over, and Hermione will probably kill me if I ever do anything half as stupid ever again."

"If she doesn't, you know I will," Ginny said, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"Of course," Ron replied with a halfhearted smile. "Now, go make yourself useful and save Harry, because Mum and Dad are talking to him about you."

"Merlin no!" Ginny gasped. "Are they trying to ruin everything!"

Ron tried to tell her that he hardly doubted Mum and Dad were going to ruin everything, but she was bounding down the steps, halfway down before he could utter a word.

Hermione could her Ron and Ginny's muffled voices outside the closed bathroom door. Slouched down in the bathtub, bubbles covering her up right past her chest, she leaned her head against the curled rim of the porcelain tub and sighed. Ginny had placed a charm on the water to keep it as hot as it was when she got in, and so far, she felt like her muscles were actually starting to relax. The books she read earlier that day about the cruciatus curse and its side effects said that she might deal with muscle pain her entire life, but the first couple of months would most definitely be the worst.

Her hair was piled up into a messy bun, also thanks to Ginny, and served as nice little pillow when she needed it to be as she waited for Ron to come into the bathroom. When she finally heard the doorknob turn, she instinctively rolled her head so that she wasn't facing the door. Hermione didn't realize how worse for the wear she looked until Ginny had the opportunity to see the damage for herself, and despite being covered in a plethora of suds, she couldn't help but feel a bit self conscious.

"Hey," she heard Ron speak as Hermione heard the door shut behind him. "You feeling any better?"

She nodded. "I am, a little bit." Mustering up her courage, she forced herself to look back over at him, and when she did, Hermione gave him a small smile. "It was a good idea you had, drawing a bath."

Ron laughed a little as he knelt down in front of the tub, resting his forearms on the edge and propping his chin up against the freckled skin. "I've been known to have them every now and then."

"Oh really?"

"Really," he confirmed. He reached a hand out and moved a stray curl away from Hermione's face, tucking it back behind her ear. "Did Fleur come in and check on you?"

"She did," Hermione replied. "Gave me a potion to help my muscles relax. I think it's working so far."

"Good."

"Yeah."

A comfortable silence filled the room, and Hermione managed to pull a hand out of the water and rinse enough suds off of them in the bath water so that she could grab one of Ron's hands, giving it a loving squeeze. "How did we get here?" she asked with a tired laugh.

Ron resituated himself, grabbing the stool against the wall and moving it so that he could sit on it, never letting go of Hermione's hand. "And here would be…"

"You…me…" Hermione trailed off, her wrinkled thumb brushing against his hand.

"We definitely didn't do it the easy way, I reckon," he said with a chuckle.

Hermione giggled. "No, we certainly didn't."

Ron swallowed hard, trying to summon all of his Gryffindor courage to say these next words. After fighting and helping defeat the Dark Lord, nothing should really scare him, but when it came to Hermione, everything about the prospect of being with her as something more than friends terrified him. He didn't know what he would do if he ever managed to screw it up - and if there was one thing Ron always thought himself to be good at - screwing up was at the top of his list. "Hermione," he finally managed to speak, holding her hand a little bit tighter. "I just…I just wanted you to know that I, that I uh, well, I love you, you know? And I know I have loads to make up for, but I just want you to know that I want to take care of you, and you mean more to me than anything."

Hermione looked at Ron with a twinkle in her tired eyes. "Even more than the Chudley Cannons?"

"I mean, I reckon you kiss better than anyone on the team," he teased.

"I hope so, unless you're into kissing blokes now."

Ron stood up from the stool, letting go of Hermione's hand so that he could lean down over her, bracing his hands against the edges of the tub. "I'm only into kissing birds - and one bird in particular."

Hermione could feel herself blush, her bare skin tinting pink as she looked up into his bright blue eyes. "She must be pretty special then, I imagine."

"She's irreplaceable," he mumbled, his lips finding hers. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"Good," she whispered back. She dipped her finger into the suds and plopped a dollop of them on the tip of his nose and grinned. "Because I love you too."

He blew the bubbles off of his nose and Hermione laughed again. "What was that for?"

She sat up in the tub, still making sure she was covered, and kissed him again. "Because you've got dirt on your nose. Right there. Did you know?"

"Nice, Hermione. Though I reckon I've got dirt on more places than just my nose," he said with a laugh. "I don't think I've done more than several cleaning charms since we left Shell Cottage."

"If you help me out of the bath, you can have the shower next," she said. "I think the potion Fleur gave me is making me sleepy."

His ears tinged red. "You…you want me to help you? Because I can go get Ginny."

Hermione summoned the towel from the top of the toilet seat with a bit of wandless magic and watched it unfold and hang as a curtain between herself and Ron. Carefully, she moved so that she was sitting in front of him, and held her hands up. "Just keep your eyes up and help pull me up," she said.

Following her instructions, Ron made sure to keep his eyes on hers the entire time as he helped her upright, and watched as Hermione had the towel wrap itself around her securely. Ron carefully picked her up out of the tub and placed her down on the rug he was standing on. "Mum moved your things into my room."

She arched an eyebrow. "Your mother. Moved my things. Into your bedroom?"

"She knows…she and Dad know, that I you and I are…well, a couple. And Mum is really worried about you and I promised I'd take care of you, the same way you took care of Harry and I," Ron earnestly said. "So you can sleep in Harry's bed if you want…"

"Or I could…sleep with you?" Hermione timidly asked. "Just sleeping, of course."

"Right, right, just sleeping," Ron reiterated.

"Because we got here the hard way, and I don't want to ruin anything."

"I definitely don't want to ruin anything either."

Hermione looked down at her feet for a moment, and her shoulders dropped slightly. "When we fell asleep at Hogwarts…right after it was over…it was the first time since Malfoy Manor that I didn't have a nightmare, and I think…it's because you were sleeping next to me."

Ron gently tilted her head back up so he could see her. "Really?"

"Really," she whispered.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped an arm around her, helping her walk back to his room. He noticed she was moving easier than she was before, and was thankful for this small improvement. He found her things in his room, just as his mother said they would be. "Do you need help getting your pajamas on?"

"I think I should be ok," she replied. "The bath really helped, Ron."

"I'm glad," he replied. "I won't be in the shower long, ok?"

She nodded. "Alright."

He disappeared from the room, and Hermione did her best to change into her pajamas as best as she could. She found an old Gryffindor shirt she swiped from Ron during their fifth year and tossed it over her body, the hem practically falling to her knees as the shirt hung on her frame, showing just how small she'd become over the past year. Snagging a pair of pajama shorts, she slipped them on over a fresh pair of knickers and crawled into Ron's bed. She noticed it too had been enlarged, no longer the long, narrow bed it used to be but instead, a long and wider bed which would easily fit the two of them. She imagined that was Molly's doing, and was thankful that she was so understanding in recognizing that she and Ron were more than just a fling. She could tell deep down in her gut that Ron was it for her, and she'd make sure to remind him every day that she loved him and only him.

Hermione could smell Ron on his pillows, despite him not being home for a year, and his scent helped lull her into a light sleep. She barely registered the lights shutting off in the room, or a freshly clean and shaven Ron Weasley climbing into bed behind her. "Ron?" she mumbled.

"Shh," he hushed gently, pulling a light blanket over the two of them. "Go back to sleep."

She felt him drape an arm around her narrow waist, and pull her close so that his back was pressed against his chest. "Sleep tight, ok?" she heard him speak. "Everything's alright."

Hermione nodded slightly as she hugged her arms around the arm Ron currently had wrapped around her waist and up her chest, his hand holding onto her shoulder. "Ok."

"I love you."

"Mmhmm...love you too."