this is for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 fandoms challenge on hpfc. i'm currently doing five fandoms, but i might change to ten or twenty.

this is dedicated to lucy (WeasleySeeker) as ronmione is her OTP and i owe her a fic. love you, darling.

thanks to maddie (overstreets) for beta'ing. oh, and i don't own hp, jkr does.


It shouldn't, but the sun rises once again. Dried tears are present on your face, but more prominent is the old blood and the fresh blood, mingling with your tears. You don't even try to pretend that you're okay, because it will not help anyone but yourself and your pride.

Your eyes flick over to Fred's body, and the few Weasleys that remain by his side. It's only George, Percy and Ron who are currently there; George staring at his twin, Percy pretending that he's not crying and Ron, kneeling beside him, letting the tears flow freely.

That is a sign that he is brave. You know that Ron will think it makes him weak.

The events of the night before are so terrible, so scarring, and yet you can't help but think of one moment that stood out to you: Ron. You. It was just the two of you together outside of the Room of Requirement, only the two of you.

The kiss has not been mentioned yet. You wish you could talk but you are afraid. It would be insensitive, as well, to talk about romance when so many are dead and you could be helping Madame Pomfrey stitch everyone up.

You decided to find Madame Pomfrey and see whom you can help. It's better than being idle whilst you wait for Ron to find you.

.

The time spent with Madame Pomfrey passes more quickly than you could have wished for. She doesn't entrust you with any stitching, but you bring around water and fetch her bandages when she needs them. It feels good, to help with cleaning up after the war. You just wish that you could clean up some other messes made during the war. The more romantically inclined ones.

So you bring around water and bandages, and do what you can to help. The war is over—so why aren't you happy?

.

You spot Ron leaning against a wall by himself, and you debate with yourself for a moment whether to go over or not. You remind yourself that you're a Gryffindor, you're brave, and so you walk over to him and stand next to him.

Neither of you speak.

It is almost silent, outside of Hogwarts, but the silence is not golden, or even silver. The silence seems as though it threatens to tear everything apart and you begin to be afraid that it will.

You look at Ron and you realise something: you know nothing. Everything that you know is from textbooks and you know that textbooks are not going to be enough in this case. They managed to get you through the Battle of Hogwarts—that, and a little bravery—but you don't know how you can tell Ron how you feel if there's not a textbook outlined way to do so.

You look at this crazy, wonderful boy and you realise that you know nothing, absolutely nothing. In this moment, everything that you know is irrelevant, completely irrelevant.

You take another look and then realise that it doesn't matter.

Finally, you admit to yourself what you've been denying all along.

You're in love with Ron. And you tell him. Then you smile. So does he.


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