Well, I've been having some trouble writing my Percy and Audrey story so I decided to take a little break and write a Ron and Hermione oneshot. The idea was taken from a writing exercise prompt that said to write a conversation between two people without using words. Which is good practice cause I usually focus on dialogue, but hopefully this won't come out totally boring.

The Harry Potter series is written by J.K Rowling. I'm just borrowing her lovely characters for a moment.

They watched each other out of the corner of their eyes, the only noise being the clank of cups in the kitchen every fifteen minutes or so, as someone reheated chocolate over and over again, the smell seeping into the sitting room. The taut line of her lips, and the whiteness of his knuckles matched almost completely. Then her teeth suddenly stuck out awkwardly breaking the rows of pink as she nibbled nervously, and he released Quidditch Through the Ages not having realized he was gripping it so tightly, and the moment was ruined. Both winced as the book crashed to the floor, sounding off like a canon in the quiet tension of the day.

Hermione reached down to pick up the fallen object, automatically not wanting to leave the cleaning until later. Ron had bent over in the same instant, and blue eyes meet brown in a flush of embarrassment. Not wanting to get up onto his chair again, Ron slumped over against the wall, staring at the ceiling pointedly. He tried to avoid Hermione's questioning look, but couldn't, and ended up smiling weakly at her and patting the floor next to him. She walked over quickly, sitting down with her legs pulled up against her chest, her shoulder accidentally on purpose brushing his. He shuddered. She turned over the book in her hands and sighed softly, not wanting to break the silence. Words were on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't feel as if it would be right to let them escape at the moment, so she kept her mouth shut like a clam. Ron prodded her foot gently with his, and motioned towards the book. She blinked, and opened it quickly, nearly ripping the first page. Her cheeks burned as she nervously tried to convey an apology, but he just chuckled, and leaned closer, mouthing the lines slowly, running a hand through his hair. Hermione eyes couldn't rest as she watched his movements, speeding across the bits of his hair that stuck up afterwords—the way his lips parted and meet.

Over the next couple of minutes, though it trudged along like hours, she felt them draw closer and closer together. Her head rested on his shoulder, his arm held her together, the tips of their toes barely touching as she struggled to keep her fingers curled around the book's edges, instead of the fringe of his hair, as she tried to keep her desire to snog him senseless at bay. That would be inappropriate at a time like this. She slipped onto his chest and his watch ticked like a reminded of her weakness directly beneath her ear. She didn't feel like moving though. As his right hand moved to turn the page again, hers dropped to clutch at his shirt, wondering how to explain her inability to comfort him. He was solid, and he was Ron, that was all she needed, but she didn't know what to do to wash away the melancholy that was tugging at his heart.

To her horror she felt her eyes overflow. She rubbed at them fiercely, but nothing could stop the tears. That was, until he touched her chin, tipping it towards his face. Her breath caught in her chest, as her body shook, and he carefully kissed on either side of her eyes and cheeks. Not being able to stand it any longer, the book fell to the floor again as she pulled him to her and let her worries rise up to the surface. He tensed for a moment, and then all but melted as he squeezed her back. He had been trying to suppress the pain. He thought he had to overcome it to be strong for everyone else. Yet here was his Hermione, the strongest person he knew, gripping him like a maniac, crying like a child, and he suddenly felt more relaxed then ever. Their lips meet as he remembered all the laughter and rage of the years before. Her fingers ran through his hair, and his hands gripped her waist. It was like she was telling him it was okay to let weakness take control. And that's what he did until their faces matched in equal tear stained glory.

The stars had begun to shine long before Harry stumbled back into the Burrow. He tugged off his coat and tiptoed quietly, hoping not wake anyone, when he caught sight of something that made him grin despite how the mood had been the last couple of days. His two best friends lay, curled up on the floor together, a worn quilt slipping off of them, one of his favorite books propped up besides them. He knelt down and pulled the blanket back over them, and picked up Quidditch Through the Ages, thinking he might fit some reading in before bed.

The book flew to the ground for the third time that day, as a flash of red speed towards him. The terrifyingly tight embrace that followed made him forget the peaceful image of his friends in an instant. As Ginny released him she glared, he shook his head sheepishly, remembering he had said he would be back hours ago. His guilt intensified as she led him into the kitchen and pushed a cup of hot chocolate into his hand. He took a sip, and smiled apologetically. Ginny's eyes glimmered wildly as she started coming towards him again. Harry gulped, wondering what would come next.

Well, that's it. The idea was that the Weasley family plus Hermione and Harry, but minus Fred :(, head back to the borrow a little after the final battle, and Hermione's having trouble interacting with Ron. Their love is pretty intense, what with them finally being safe, their first kiss having just happened, and all those hormones too…but Fred's just died, and so Hermione's trying to hold back a little. At the same time Ron is trying to look all tough cause the family's falling apart. Still, he has to know it's okay to let go every once and a while. Harry went out for some alone time and came back to face an annoyed Ginny. You can choose for yourselves whether she's going to hit or kiss him.