Ron had never been more grateful for his four poster bed. He could almost pretend that the last ten months or so had been a dream – almost, except that the pain of all of it was still as sharp as ever.

Not to mention, under no ordinary circumstances would Hermione be sleeping on the bed next to him in the boys' dormitories. Dean had gone home to his family who Ron knew he hadn't seen in months taking Seamus, his best friend and fellow seventh year Gryffindor, who had missed him for nearly as long, leaving Ron, Harry, Neville and two empty beds to fill. Hermione and Ginny had graciously offered.

Ron closed his eyes and listened for the comforting sound of Hermione's even breathing – something he had grown well accustomed to after months of sleeping feet from her in a tent. There was Neville's soft, familiar snore, Harry's labored breathing that gave Ron the impression that his dreams were anything but peaceful, and Ginny's sigh and whistle …

He sat up, listening harder. He turned to the side, straining his eyes for her raised silhouette in the dark. After a moment of adjusting, there was no mistaking the empty bed.

Ron jumped to his feet, unreasonably panicked. Surely she was just in the loo … but he had been awake for a long time. If she was only using the toilet, she should have been back by now. How had he not realized her absence earlier?

Fighting back panic, he half tip toed, half ran across the dormitory, taking care to be quiet as he slipped out the door. He crept down the boys' staircase and into the common room, about to head for the portrait hole when he suddenly noticed a curled shape in the darkness, huddled on the loveseat. Even in the darkness, Ron recognized her bushy mane immediately.

For a moment he thought she was asleep, but he quickly realized that she was shaking. He rapidly crossed the room, sliding onto the seat next to her. She jumped a bit, then looked up and realized it was him. She allowed him to put his arms around her and pull her close. Then she buried her head in his chest and continued to weep.

Ron stroked her hair, holding her in the dark, letting her take a turn to fall apart. All that day she had consoled him, held him, laced her fingers sweetly through his just as he felt like he was about to explode. She had been a woman of stone, comforting him, Ginny, Harry, his mum, and just about anyone else she had seen needing a shoulder. She had done more than anyone he had seen in repairing the castle and tending to the wounded and heartbroken. Still, she hadn't left his side the entire time.

Hermione had more right than anyone to fall apart, and it was by no means a punishment to comfort her. On the contrary, Ron could have gone on holding her for hours.

After a moment, Ron pointed his wand at the fireplace and murmured, "Finite." A warm fire ignited, brightening the room, casting shadows across the two of them.

Still, he held her, alternating stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Periodically, he placed a kiss on top of her head, and relished in the feeling that accompanied holding a safe Hermione secure in his arms. He was alive and she was alive and the pain of the day still bit like a knife, but she had kissed him and she was here and nothing else, for that moment, mattered at all.

Ron didn't know how long they sat there, holding each other. It could have been moments or days, but it was of no consequence. They didn't speak, but after a while, Hermione stopped shaking and slid her arms more firmly around his waist. He had pulled her almost completely onto his lap, their legs tangled together, and was acutely aware of the fact that they were alone, in the dark and closer than he imagined they'd ever been. She was warm and soft and pressing against him at all angles. All walls were down. They'd been down for too bloody long without him making a move and, so help him, he was not going to make the mistake again.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then each of her cheeks. He felt rather than heard her breath hitch in her chest, and his own heart raced. He kissed each of her closed eyelids and her nose, and then paused, inches from her face. Her wet eyes fluttered open and met his own.

For an endless instant, they stared at each other.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, and the way that she chewed on her lip was both achingly familiar and maddeningly irresistible.

"Hermione…"

"Yes?"

Both of their voices were so hushed that they were more mouthing words by now.

He paused. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Even after everything that had happened vocalizing his thoughts took more courage than he thought he possessed. However, it was more than worth it when he saw the way she beamed.

Unable to hold back any longer, Ron covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was sweet, slow and intense – everything that Ron had dreamed of for years. It was different than the desperate, frenzied kiss in the Room of Requirement that had been laced with terror and impatience. This kiss was, at least in Ron's mind, a promise to her. He felt it in the deepest part of his being, and knew that he wouldn't trade anything for this moment. It felt nothing like the shallow snogging he'd experienced with Lavender that had been more hollow entertainment than any show of genuine emotion.

Hermione's hands slid to cup his face, leaning back into the arm rest and pulling him gently so that he was lying on top of her, fingers on her waist and in her hair. He broke away from her for a moment to trail feather kisses down her neck. She made a noise half way between a sigh and a whimper, and when his mouth met hers again, it was with more urgency.

Her hands were running through his hair, fingernails occasionally grazing his neck, igniting fire in his gut. He pulled her closer and she complied, pushing against him. She whispered his name in a husky, delicious voice that made Ron's heart thud madly against his rib cage.

Ron's hands were at her waist, sliding around her back. Her shirt had slid up, leaving the small of her back exposed. Her skin felt hot against his, tantalizingly so, and he forced himself to pull back before he got too carried away.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, gazing at his face. "Is something wrong?"

The very idea was so ludicrous that he let out a soft chuckle. "No, Merlin, it's perfect. Everything is perfect."

She smiled, and this time it was rather coy. The butterflies in Ron's stomach were getting out of hand.

"You really are," she told him frankly.

For a moment, Ron couldn't speak. Hermione – the most perfect person on the planet, the girl he would have traded anything to have the moment he just did with her had just called him perfect, speaking as though she had never meant anything more in her life. After everything that had happened and now this, Ron felt a knot of emotion in his throat and was mortified to feel his eyes burning.

He could see that she understood as she grinned and pressed her lips once, twice, three times softly to his.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and into her hair. The next words he said slipped out unchecked, the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm in love with you."

It was Hermione's turn to be at a loss for words. He could read the shock in her face, and he opened his mouth to try and rectify what he imagined must have been a horrible mistake. He needn't have. She was suddenly smiling like the sun, and he was pleased to see that he had controlled his emotions at least better than she did as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Oh Ron," she murmured, touching his face, "I'm so in love with you."

His mouth was on hers again, kissing her fiercely as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him flush against her. They were tangled together, the only sound their breathing. After another endless moment, Hermione broke away.

"Ron."

"Yeah?" He blinked, refocusing.

"Er … I don't want to spoil this lovely moment or anything –"

Ron sat up, cold reality washing over him. The phrase "too good to be true" ran through his head.

"What's wrong?"

He stared at her wild hair and just-kissed lips and thought that he had never seen her look more lovely. The thought that he might never again see her like this was unbearable.

"Nothing's wrong. Just wondering … what are we now, exactly?"

Of course – this was Hermione. She was already worrying about conventions.

"Blimey … I hadn't really thought about it much. What do you want to be?"

"Well I don't know. I want …" she gestured between the two of them. "I want this."

"Right …" he mimicked her gestures, teasing "this is good."

"I don't mean just that," she flushed, smiling. "I mean you and me."

"I want that too," he admitted, nodding.

"Just … at what level?"

Ron felt his face heating up. "Er … I reckon this level is fine – I mean, anything more … extravagant … well, I mean I don't want you to think that I want you to – " He noticed that she was holding back laughter and stopped.

"All right what have I said now?"

Hermione laughed out loud, but it wasn't mocking. It sounded more nervous than anything. "I meant level as in what are we calling this? Are we a couple now?"

Ron was nodding before she had even finished speaking.

"So we are?" she prodded. "Am I your girlfriend?"

He met her eyes again. Girlfriend felt odd – shallow, and inadequate. "I don't know, Hermione. I want you … I mean, I want to be together. I want to hold your hand in public and sneak off and snog you at those awful family get togethers. I want everyone to know that it's you and me and sure, that you're my girlfriend, but that just doesn't seem to really cover it."

Hermione was smiling more than he had seen in months.

"What about all the teasing? You know your family is never going to let this rest."

Ron barked out a laugh that made Hermione jump a little.

"Honestly? Hermione … all my life they've given me grief about hating spiders and being the baby brother and loads of stuff that was just to embarrass me. There is nothing embarrassing about being the luckiest, most undeserving git in the world. Why should it bother me if they point out the best thing that's ever happened to me?"

He had hardly finished the last word before Hermione had jumped on top of him, pushing him back into the couch, her arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him fiercely. He hugged her back, both bemused and right chuffed to have had her react so favorably to what he was saying. He couldn't believe he hadn't already botched his words somehow.

"You. Are. Completely. Wonderful," Hermione punctuated each word with kisses all over his face. It wasn't long before he had found her mouth again, though he was sure that this was not the last he would hear of this conversation. Hermione – always prepared – would want every detail of their relationship mapped out and identified. He was sure they would still fight – honestly, he wouldn't want to give that up anyway – but none of that was important right now.

For now, they were both alive and in each other's arms. She had told him she loved him, and for at least the near future, Ron planned on making the most of the empty common room, warm fire, and beautiful girl in his arms.