Bed
There was always more going on in cannon than Harry saw. Missing moment from DH – something remembered from OotP, breaks Hermione's heart afresh after the final battle.
The four-poster was warm; but he felt no heat. He was wrapped in a place and time as much as a person could be somewhere between the need to sleep and the need to do something. For the first time in months (years if he was perfectly honest) he didn't have to worry about impending doom. However, sleep won't come. His mind went to his family that were mourning Fred.
His best friend, in the next bed was finally asleep, he deserved to.
A large amount of snoring was also coming from the unlikely leader of the resistance. Who had also climbed into his bed and been found by sleep.
The redhead knew what he needed. He needed to hear her sleeping close to him. To know she was alright so that he could slip into that welcoming state.
His mind, wasn't bothered about sleeping, it roamed over to the other stairs; over to her. They'd crossed a line in their friendship yesterday and part of him wanted to explore that. Express to her everything he was feeling for her; had felt for her all along.
The other half of him wanted a time turner. The three of them had done so much over the last seven years… surely saving his brother, Fred, wasn't too much to ask. He didn't want to save him for himself alone: for his mother, for his father and siblings… and most of all for the twin left behind. His heart ached for his favourite brother.
He rolled over trying to find a more comfortable position, but he couldn't.
Then, he didn't need to: relief flooded his whole body. The door open but he wasn't afraid. He'd been expecting her. He shifted over, raising his covers up as he did so. Without a word, she lay next to him and he held her close.
The last time they'd been together, it was just before he left. She remembered now that he had said goodbye the night before he'd left. She had seen how conflicted he was to go. Seen the way his blue eyes had looked at her when he'd told her. He'd tried to explain. She's tried to convince him otherwise.
They'd argued; argued as only friends with an extra secret tension could.
He'd leaned in to say goodbye and they'd kissed; sweet and tender kiss full of passion. Her fingers had raked through his soft red hair. She'd smelled him and was transported to another kiss she'd had that year. She didn't know whether they'd kissed for a minute or an hour.
She'd been the one to break it.
Her mind had gone at a million miles an hour. Then, she'd contentedly sighed his brother's name before she'd opened her eyes.
She remembered her and his joint shock. The way he'd tried to make light of it through his pain. Then his eyes had looked determined; he pointed his wand towards her and them memory had been gone.
She realised now that he'd wiped her memory of their last evening. Far from leaving her without a goodbye – he'd saved her.
Her heart had remembered; had kept it so that she knew without a doubt who she loved.
She'd awoken weeping. She'd cried for the man that she'd loved and for his courage. For the light and life he'd showed her. For the love he'd shown both her and his little brother. For the man she knew he was, not just the public one, but the private side that had only been hers.
Now the battle was won. Now the pressure was off and she didn't need to keep on going for the good of the world. She cried. She saw it replay over and over again in her mind.
She remembered. She longed not to but she did.
Fred. Her Fred was gone and she'd never had a chance to thank him for his help. Thank him for his friendship that she's enjoyed before they'd gone down her separate ways. Thank him for that kiss, the emotional push she'd needed to know for sure it was Ron. It was always going to be Ron. Thank him for taking away her memory so that she'd not feel conflicted.
Turning over in her familiar bed, she gazed at the picture of her, Ron and Harry that she'd rescued from her ever faithful beaded bag before she turned in for the day.
Her heart was breaking for Fred, but it shattered when her mind went to Ron. It was all too much she needed him. Before she had time to stop herself, she was out of her bed and heading for him.
There were a few people in the common room, but they didn't say anything when they saw her ascending the boy's stairs.
In each other's arms they cried. They felt free let the emotions out. Gone were the times when they'd been guarded and when they'd put up a front; because gone were the children that they'd been. They'd both grown up, together and apart during the last two years.
It was in that bed that Neville and Harry found them later, asleep wrapped together; warm, safe and now doubt free.
For those who loved their start in Yule Brawl. For those who remember Hermione's comment in Seamus Day Out. And for those that know and love F/Hr. Might expand this story.