Hermione sank onto her bed and sobbed. "Oh Ron", she sighed.

RWHGRWHG

Ron sat slowly down on his brother's couch. "Oh God Hermione".

He lay back to stare at the ceiling, thinking of the first time they had met.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one"

His irritation at that first bossy sentence made him grin in spite of himself. And he'd wanted to hit her when she pointed out the smudge on his nose, especially after his mother's not-so-tender ministrations to it.

RWHGRWHG

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow;

turn this stupid fat rat yellow"

She had almost laughed at loud at that ridiculous spell. Even now it made her smile. And then that time he had called her a nightmare, she had been so miserable, crying in that stupid toilet for hours. A year later he would call her that and she would laugh.

RWHGRWHG

Ron remembered when he and Harry had burst through the door to find Hermione trapped by a troll. He had saved her life. It made him proud just thinking of it.

And the smile she had given him then. He's never seen her look so shy since. He'd probably fallen in love on the spot.

And then when she had been petrified in second year. He shivered, thinking of the desire he had had to hunt, kill whatever had done that to her.

RWHGRWHG

Hermione ran through the hall and flung herself on Harry, she turned to Ron, ready for a second hug. He stuck out his hand, awkwardly. "Good to see you Back Hermione".

She snorted at how pompous he had sounded, how obvious he had been. She had blushed red as she took his hand, giggling at his pink ears. She had realized then of course. But she was rather more astute than Ron.

Oh and third year, that stupid argument over that rat. How she'd wanted to slap him for leaving her so lonely, trying desperately to save Buckbeak on her own. And when Ron had comforted her afterwards, throwing heart and soul into rescuing the hippogriff. She wanted to kiss him, then slap him, then kiss him some more.

RWHGRWHG

Ron thought about the Yule Ball, his jealousy over Hermione and Krum, how beautiful she was. For the thousandth time he kicked himself for not realizing then. They could have had another three years together…three whole extra years!

RWHGRWHG

Hermione thought back to all those weeks when Harry and Ron had argued. She'd had to flit between them like a flipping owl. That's when she had become close to Ginny, who had proved an invaluable ally in getting Ron to realize his feelings.

Then when Harry had been in the maze. Gripping Ron's hand in tense silence as the minutes dragged on. Clinging to him because it was the only thing that was preventing her from screaming at the insanity of it all, the awkward moments afterwards when they had let go of each other. How she had fallen even further in love with his adorable lack of social graces.

RWHGRWHG

Ron smirked as he flashed back to Hermione explaining girls to him. He had been completely bewildered and Hermione had simply been amused and exasperated at how clueless he was. He couldn't imagine how frustrating it must have been for her, his dunderheadedness. And Lavender… he quaked at the thought.

RWHGRWHG

Hermione gave an involuntary growl. That girl. Urgh! She had hated her so intensely, she'd often half-wished that looks could kill. Or at least break apart oblivious snogging couples. Or at least people obliviously snogging Ron. And those canaries she had set on him. Those had been a brain wave! Poor Harry had had no idea how to stop her, or even if he should!

And then in the hospital wing. Ron saying her name in his sleep. She could've flown, literally levitated without so much as a wand. And nobody else in the room had even recognized the significance of what had happened because, she realized, it meant Ron knew!

RWHGRWHG

Ron opened his eyes and gazed blearily around, fixing on Hermione and smiling.

She had been clasping his hands. God her hands were soft, he's wanted to raise them to his lips and kiss each finger. He was beginning to realize just what she meant to him. And she was there. With him. By his side. Even after Lavender.

And the argument in the tent, the miserable jealousy of Harry and Hermione. He didn't really know what came over him but suddenly he had seen covert glances and sly winks every time he had looked at them.

RWHGRWHG

His lowest hour. His betrayal of his best friend, of her. He had just left. Just walked away and broken her.

She had been so, so angry with him.

Very similar to this moment actually.

Except her teenage self had at least had something to be angry about. I mean, what were they arguing about this time for Merlin's sake? Centrepieces. It was ridiculous. If she had known in the elation, even surrounded by death, of that first kiss, what they would now be arguing about; she would have scoffed at how pathetic it was.

RWHGRWHG

Ron sighed. Flowers. After all the life-and-death situations they had come through; flowers were going to break off their engagement?

Ron got up and closed his eyes, spinning on the spot as he muttered "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…"

RWHGRWHG

Hermione sat by the fire in the living room, watching the flames, pensively.

What she loved most about Ron wasn't his goofiness, his, sometimes blind, bravery (some might call it pig-headedness), not what little romance he had nor his fierce protectiveness and jealousy of her.

She loved the closeness that growing up together had brought. The bond that was closer than best friend but that wasn't the lover side of their relationship. The hours they had spent, sat in the common room, with or without Harry. Laughing, teasing, even the grouching and grumbling.

The hours in the library the year after the war when they had returned to do their NEWTs.

The easy playfulness of being together.

The sincerity of not saying necessarily everything, but anything.

It was the sitting by the fire and talking into the early hours of the morning.

The falling asleep on his shoulder and then waking up to his chainsaw snoring and kicking him awake, only to be groggily hit with a pillow.

It was the way she could lean on his chest and listen to his heartbeat and the world would stop. Not because of anything silly and romantic, but simply because it was Ron, and she was so much closer to him than anybody else. With nobody was she as completely and utterly comfortable.

She sighed.

A familiar pop sounded in the corner of the room.

Ron grinned warmly as Hermione looked sleepily over the top of the sofa and smiled. She patted the sofa.

Ron went and laid on the couch next to her, feeling Hermione's head find the spot on his chest that was shaped for her.

"Right, stuff the centrepeices; we'll have those Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Indoor Firework Fountains instead. Break from tradition", she announced.

"Oh Muriel'll love that. It'll give her something to moan about. 'Muggle-born taste, so vulgar'" he mimicked.

"Good! It might distract her from whatever God awful outfit you concede to wear.

"I rather think maroon's my colour, don't you?"

"Right, that settles it then. We'll all go in Weasley jumpers".

They both giggled.

Hermione leaned back and then kicked Ron as he drifted off, commencing his motorized garden tool impression. He reprimanded her with a cushion. Hermione smiled contentedly and entwined Ron's fingers with hers, examining the engagement ring. She looked up and laughed as she took out a tissue to rub a dark smudge from the side of Ron's nose.

"Whazza matter?"

"Some things never change", Hermione replied happily.

Ron snored.