Yet another song-fic! At the moment I just hear a song and bam! I've got a story to go with it! So here it is, hope you enjoy, Patience by Take That (who cares if they're 40+?).

Just have a little patience
I'm still hurting from a love I lost
I'm feeling your frustration
Any minute all the pain will stop.

Ron wiped his cheek before his mother could spot his single tear; she didn't need to worry about him, he wasn't worth her time.

The whole of the Weasley clan were together for the first time since the end of the war...well...they weren't exactly complete. Fred. Fred hadn't made it home. Fred deserved to be here; laughing, joking, making his twin and the rest of his family smile, but he couldn't anymore, they couldn't. But the Weasley's are thicker than dragon hide and would carry on as best as they could. George let grief wrap its talons around him, but the rest put on their brave and happy faces. Even Harry was there; he may not have been a Weasley but they all considered him one, he would probably end up being family in the future.

They all sat around the Burrow's dining table, making polite conversation, even George was joining in, something he hadn't done in a while. Ron even thought he saw a smile from him. It seemed the pain was fading from George, it would never fully leave him – you can never get over the loss of a twin, especially an identical one – but it was receding, maybe George would laugh soon.

Just hold me close inside your arms tonight
Don't be too hard on my emotions.

Ron found it easy to blend into the background; he was good at that. He just sat there; their conversations just became background noise, meaningless sentences and inaudible words. He began to think of a night they had spent together in the tent.

Just the two of them.

Alone.

Ron had held her as she cried; she needed to cry, she wasn't the type of person that could bottle up their emotions. They knew that Harry couldn't see them together like this and he certainly couldn't see her cry. They sat together until the sun had shot passionate flames across the sky. Neither of them had fallen asleep; they didn't want to miss a second of their precious time together. They treasured those moments.

But they were gone now.

Forever.

'Cause I need time
My heart is numb, has no feeling
So while I'm still healing
Just try and have a little patience.

Fred's funeral was short but sweet; sad but happy. George organised his own twin's funeral; it was full of fireworks, pranks and jokes, just like the man himself. But Ron just stood at the back, he smiled...once. His heart just wouldn't let him, it was like it had been shattered into billions of tiny pieces; it would take more than a roll of tape and a tube of super glue to put it back together.

No one seemed to notice him at the back; no one noticed as Ron picked up his fourth bottle of fire whiskey.

Drink seemed to be the only think that stopped the intense pain; it made him forget her, those moments and how his heart wanted to stop. It healed him in a way that no words could.

I really wanna start over again
I know you wanna be my salvation
The one that I can always depend.

The funerals kept on coming; many had died. The drink kept on coming; many memories needed to be forgotten.

Ron wanted the memories to leave him and drink seemed to be the only think that helped. Everyone was wrapped so tightly by the claws of grief that they never thought to look to see if anyone else was alright.

'Ronnie,' a happy, cheerful voice woke Ron from his drunken thoughts.

'Lav,' luckily for Ron she had come over at the start of a funeral; he was sober. He gave her a hug, smiling for her like he did for his family and surviving friends; they couldn't see how he really felt. He wasn't worth their time.

'I didn't really know him that well, did you?' Lavender said as she nodded over to a picture of Colin Creevy; all of the school had turned out for his funeral out of respect; it was the same every time.

'Not really, I think Harry knew him more, but you have to come, don't you.' Lavender nodded. She studied Ron as she stood next to him; something just wasn't right about him. He looked fine and from what she had heard he was coping well. But having dated him in sixth year, she knew there was more to Ron then what you saw; it was sensitive and understood.

He needed her. Ronald Weasley needed Lavender Brown...well that was what she thought. She took his hand and squeezed it tightly, Ron squeezed back. Maybe being with Lavender would stop the pain; take his mind of her.

I'll try to be strong
Believe me I'm trying to move on
It's complicated but understand me.

Molly looked over to see where her youngest son was. She saw him snogging the face off of a blonde girl.

'Ah, is there a more romantic setting than a funeral?' Said George smirking, Molly lightly hit his arm; it was good to see that her son was alright. She thought her death might have been hard on him; she had always thought he loved her...well you can't be right all the time.

'Who's she?'

'Lavender Brown, gossip, fashion and make-up extraordinaire.'

'Nothing like Hermione then,' George laughed.

'Mum, Draco Malfoy and Ron are more alike!'

Molly walked over to the couple when they had gone up for air.

'Hello Ron, want to introduce me?' Ron had no other choice but too.

'Mum, this is Lavender, my girlfriend,' Lavender giggled when he called her his girlfriend; maybe she could get away with saying that they'd been together since year six...their break-up was quite quiet.

'Hello Mrs. Weasley,' Molly pulled her into a tight embrace.

'Lovely to meet you dear.' But as she watched her son and this Lavender girl; Molly knew she loved him but he did not her.

When Molly later questioned her son, he played the part and she would have been totally fooled but Molly Weasley was not a fool.

She knew it was complicated and knew Ron would keep it bottled up...then he'd explode and she knew that would not be a pretty sight.

'Cause I need time
My heart is numb, has no feeling
So while I'm still healing
Just try and have a little patience
Have a little patience.

Ron had been expecting his mum to ask him about his and Lavender relationship and that it would be soon, but he assured her that there was never anything been him and her and he missed her but not in that way.

Lies, lies, lies.

Ron considered telling his mum the truth, but with Lavender...maybe he should just give a bit of time, be patient with his heart. It would heal.

Lie.

Molly just prayed to Merlin that her youngest boy would realise that he needed to talk to someone, even if it was a gnome. You can't lose someone who means so much to you and just keep quiet; it'll break you.
Have a little patience, have a little patience.

'Cause the scars run so deep
It's been hard but I have to believe

'BREAKFAST!' Yelled Molly on a morning that she knew would mean so much to Ron; maybe it would put his demons to rest or it would set them alight.

Lavender was one of the first down; she had been over for dinner last night and she was coming to the next funeral, which was this time being held at Burrow – the person had requested that before they had died – and Molly had decided that there was no point in her going home.

'Hello Mrs W-.'

'Please dear, call me Molly.'

'Hello Molly,' said Lavender with a small blush.

Soon all of the Weasleys were around the small dining table, minus one.

'Where is that Ronald?'

'He's in the shower,' answered Lavender to whoever had just asked; Molly nodded.

'Bloody hell! Start breakfast without me!' said Ron who had obviously just gotten out of the shower; he had nothing but a towel on. His well toned body was dripping water and his fire hair was cooled by the water.

'We already have,' smiled George, before he looked at his brother. 'Ron...' said George before he gulped. The whole table stared at Ron.

'Oh my poor baby,' Lavender looked like she was going to cry.

'What!' Ron span around in the hope that he might find the answer to their shock.

'Your scars,' whispered Molly, her hands over her mouth in shock; she had seen Harry's body and there was only a few scars which didn't look bad. But Ron...

All over his body were scars; some still red from where they hadn't healed yet; others looked like they would be there for life; some were much deeper than others; one continued on past the towel; one went from the top of his neck to his shoulder. Angry purple and black bruises were imprinted on his arms and body; their colour made him look paler and ill. His family hadn't looked closely at him since the end of the war; they hadn't noticed any scars or bruises; they had been looking at Harry and mourning the dead.

'Oh these...' said Ron looking down at his body. 'Nah, nothing,' he said with a smile; he couldn't see what all the fuss was about; they were just physical wounds, heart wounds were a billion times worse. He shook his head – sending water droplets around the room – before he grabbed a seat between Lavender and George and began to eat. Slowly his family turned back around and started to pick up their conversations again.

But Molly just couldn't get the image of her son's body out of her head; what had her poor youngest son gone through? Why wouldn't he talk to her!

'Cause I just need time
My heart is numb, has no feeling
So while I'm still healing
Just try and have a little patience, have a little patience.

At eleven o'clock people started to arrive at the Burrow. Old class mates, members of the Order, close family members who knew of magic, professors...the list was endless; luckily the Burrow had a large garden and Molly always made food for the five thousand.

Slowly everyone filtered in; the first two rows on either side were reserved for the Weasleys, family and close friends.

Ron looked straight forward as her coffin came down the aisle; he didn't want to look for he knew it would make him cry and he knew he couldn't do that; he had to be strong, she wouldn't want him crying. After all he was her who had said that he had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

This time he couldn't drown his sorrows; he was at the front.

Many said words of her, of her intelligence, her magical skill and how it was a waste of such a promising life. Soon it was Ron's turn to say a few words; sadly he had forgotten this duty and had prepared nothing.

'Like many of you will know, I have a habit of leaving things to the last minute,' Ron didn't look down or to her coffin, he looked straight ahead. 'And today is no different. Sadly I don't have 'Mione to sort it out for me. You've all spoken of her intelligence, but what you really meant to say was that she was a good old nerd, a know-it-all if you prefer,' a small smile passed around the room. His speech was funny but touching and Molly knew that it might be his healer. Ron turned to her coffin for the first time and the reality that Hermione Granger was dead slapped him round the face like a wet fish. 'I just want to say thanks 'Mione, you've always been there for me, especially when I haven't done my homework or when I needed notes because Harry was distracting me,' Harry made a mock gasp and smiled. 'Just thanks for everything; you'll never know how much you helped me.' The room clapped and underneath the noise Ron whispered, 'or how much I love you.'

My heart is numb, has no feeling
So while I'm still healing
Just try and have a little patience

After Hermione's funeral, Ron knew it had helped him. He could accept that she was gone foreverphysically but mentally...she would always been on his mind; the good one sitting on his shoulders.

He ended up marrying Lavender, not because he loved her, but because he knew that she loved him. The woman he loved was six feet under.

Ron visited Hermione's grave every day, he made sure of that. And towards the end of his life, he could have sworn that he had seen her; she never made contact but he knew that she was there, a ghost calling him.