After the Battle-A Ron/Hermione Fic
Harry, Ron and Hermione staggered up to the Gryffindor tower, exhausted. The Fat Lady did not ask for the password, the portrait simply swung open immediately, granting the trio access.
"Thanks." said Harry numbly.
The Fat Lady gave them a small smile and swung shut, leaving them alone in the common room. All three of them traipsed upstairs to the seventh year boys' dormitory, where Harry promptly collapsed onto the bed nearest to the door and fell into a deep sleep.
Ron walked slowly over to a bed near the window. He sank down onto the red quilt and stared at the floor. All of a sudden tears flowed out of his eyes as the events of the last year hit him like a train. The look on Hermione's face the day he left her and Harry, right before he Disapparated, the single tear rolling down her cheek. The weeks spent in guilt, loneliness, and anguish, that look haunting him every time he closed his eyes. The soul-splitting agony of watching the figures of Harry and Hermione in passionate embrace, in that moment knowing he had nothing worth living for. The time spent in the Malfoy mansion cellar, each of Hermione's piercing shrieks stabbing him through the heart like a knife, him lying on the floor helpless, sobbing, driven insane by her pain, driven insane by his hopeless longing for it to be him instead. That last laugh of Fred's, his brother full of life one second, the next falling to the floor, a grin still etched on his face, the light slowly leaving his eyes. Knowing that Fred would never laugh again, never cause mischief again, never tease him again.
He sobbed. Hermione crossed over to the bed, and pushing the red Gryffindor curtains aside, sat beside him. She wrapped her arms around him and cried with him, silently, tears cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall. He pulled her close to him and wept, for minutes, hours, his tears running down his long nose and landing in her hair.
Eventually both their tears dried up, and so they sat in each other's arms, gazing out the window up at the moon, which was at last visible through the debris of the battle. Ron stroked Hermione's hair, the bushy, wild, tangled hair he had loved for so long, as she rested her head on his shoulder in silence. Suddenly, the silence was broken.
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too."
No more needed to be said. With conflicting emotions of joy, sorrow and relief clouding their minds, they fell into a deep sleep, in each other's arms.