He watched the sleeping form of the woman next to him, the slow rise and fall of her chest as she softly breathed. He still couldn't believe that she, the most brilliant witch of their age, had chosen him. The only things he could beat her at was chess... and a sense of humor.
He caressed her cheek softly with one of his long fingers. Somehow he'd always thought that she would choose Harry. Especially when Harry broke up with Ginny; especially when Hermione chose to stay with Harry instead of leave with him during his embarrassing encounter with the locket.
But Harry assured him that he only loved her like a sister. He said he thought Ron had always known this. But he and Harry just never talked about things like that... so how would he have known? He had just assumed and hadn't wanted to cause his best friend more pain. And Harry was his best friend, even though he had so many times felt inferior to him in so many ways. Deep down he knew he wouldn't have wanted and wouldn't have been able to deal with everything that had happened to Harry in his life. Harry deserved to at least get the girl, he had reasoned to himself.
Leaning down, he touched his cheek to her own. Looking back now he supposed that he should have known. He was the one to make her laugh and break out of her shell. Harry and she were both always so serious, although she still had needed to pull Harry down to earth from time to time. She'd always partnered with him to support Harry, and now it made sense that their partnership would morph into something more.
Sitting back up, he admitted at times it had rankled when she was always surprised anytime he did anything intelligent, but he supposed it was because they were always making her correct essays. But she always had, and she hadn't for anyone else. She loved them.
He stroked her bushy hair that so often seemed as though it were filled with electricity when she was angry. Harry never understood why they bickered so much. Harry didn't understand that for them it was fun. It was their way of challenging each other's set-in-stone thoughts, and they really, at heart, both enjoyed it. At least most of time. Sometimes it was for real... but then they ended up not speaking to each other for awhile. If they continued speaking to each other, it was all teasing, all fun and games. Harry had always been too preoccupied with the burden on his shoulders to worry about such silly things.
He slowly bent down again to kiss her forehead. He appreciated that Hermione wasn't all about appearances but personality. Ron couldn't identify exactly when he'd realized that he was in love with Hermione... but he regretted now that he had taken so long to work through his insecurities. But at least now, with the war over, they had the rest of their lives to spend together... partners forever, with Harry splitting off to expand their trio into a quartet involving Ron's sister.
She opened up her honey brown eyes and smiled at him, that smile that was just for him. He was so glad he'd sat in Harry's compartment on the train that first time. If he hadn't, he knew he would not be a fraction of the person he was today, and he might never have truly seen the beautiful person next to him. Harry was just like that... uniting everyone with his great ability to love.
Disclaimer: I of course don't own anything related to Harry Potter...
A/N: Just some thoughts I've had going through my head for awhile, even before the seventh book. I started jotting them down the other night when I was having problems with a different story, and they turned into a one shot. Hopefully the interactions don't impede the flow...