Chapter One: George
He never quite understood why it had taken so long. His little brother was no coward; he had faced more in his short life than most people would ever have to. But there was something about her, this sweet, gentle, wickedly brilliant girl that had him shaking in his boots. Granted she knew how to argue, no one could deny that, and she certainly had a temper but so did he. And when you've seen death what use is fear? His whole life he'd been living in a topsy terrby world where at any moment everything he knew could be devastatingly altered. As he got older it only got worse. With each year the danger only increased. Wild adventures became close calls, close calls became near death experiences, and then suddenly death became a reality.
Fred had been gone nearly four months now. Every time George thought of him, his brother, his best friend, his twin the pain felt new as if only seconds ago He'd lost him. That night, the night of the battle, still haunted him as it did everyone. It was there in those blood stained hours that Ron and Hermione had found each other. The way they had walked into the Great Hall, Hermione slightly limping on a badly sprained angle, Ron trying to support her, their hands clasped, awkward and slightly unsure, had given him hope.
It was the same kind of hope he saw in Harry and Ginny, mum and dad. It was the kind of hope he had found in Angelina. It was the kind of hope that kept growing stronger. But more than anything it was the kind of hope that lived in Ron and Hermione. It was their love for one another, suppressed for so long- finally able to bloom, that gave them that hope.
It started off slightly uncomfortable, of course. After so long of being just friends seamlessly shifting into a deeper relationship, wasn't an option. But they made it work, through every awkward moment they made it work, and in the end they needed each other like they had since their first day aboard the Hogwarts Express.