A/N: This was written earlier this year for the prompt "Beginnings". As always, I'd love to hear what you think, especially as this was my first time writing these two!

So

"So," Ron said, taking an uncertain step towards her in the alcove they occupied outside the kitchens. Everyone else was either still in the Great Hall or outside helping to clean up but Ron and Hermione had needed to get away for a bit.

"So." Hermione blushed and bit her lip before plowing on. "I mean, yes?" She pushed a wayward curl out of her eyes.

"Kreacher said Harry is up in the dorm and Ginny's sitting with him. Everyone else is with the – with Fred." He put his head down squeezing his eyes shut.

"Ron," Hermione laid a hand on his arm all awkwardness forgotten. "I'm so sorry, Ron." She told him trying not to let her own tears fall. "He – he died fighting for something he believed in."

"He wasn't supposed to die this way!" Ron said angrily, but he didn't pull away from her. Hermione was grateful they were alone. His family's grief would be publicized enough; he should be able to mourn privately now, at least. "I," He continued. "I always figured we'd find them both dead in their backroom after they tired to test a new product and it went horribly wrong.

"And now," He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter but it didn't help, tears started to stream through the grime on his face still left from the battle hours earlier. "Now he's lying in the Great Hall and George is still here. And George," His voice wavered and he stopped, taking a few slow deep breaths before going on in a lower and more pained, yet more controlled, voice. "George looks like somebody has physically ripped him in half."

"Ron," She repeated and hated herself for being so useless. Why hadn't she spent more time researching grief and ways to cope with death? Her ever-rational brain answered before she could tell herself to shut up. Denial. That had worked out well. "I know how corny this sounds, but he's not really gone. He'll always be with you. And it's not how any of us expected Fred to die, but he did die laughing. He would have wanted it that way, smiling.

"And I'm so sorry, because I know I can't understand what you're going through but I did love Fred." She was rambling but maybe it was working, Ron was starting to calm down a little. "Not in the same way, and" She smiled and Ron seemed to know because he opened his eyes to look at her. "Not when he was using First Years as test subjects." Ron grinned. "But I loved him."

"I wasn't – he didn't – we weren't – he liked – " Whatever Ron had tried to say (though Hermione had a good idea and filed it away to talk about at a later time) was lost as the tears that had been stopping started again with renewed vigor.

Ron started to sob heavily and Hermione hugged him tightly, his arms surrounding hers, managing to pull them both further into the alcove. "It's okay," She said running a hand through his hair. "It's okay Ron, go ahead and cry. I'm right here." She promised.

"You're always there, Hermione." Ron chuckled wetly. He lifted his head off her shoulder in favor of resting his chin on top of her head sniffing the rest of his tears away. "If it weren't for you Harry and I would have failed out of school at the very least."

"Boys," Hermione said rolling her eyes even though he couldn't se it. "It's not like I ever asked a lot of you two." She made a soft noise of protest as he pulled back a little.

"Hermione." He grinned down at her.

"Well," She blushed. "Maybe you two didn't come to school with the same scholarly expectations I did."

"You told us in First Year that death was preferable to getting expelled." Ron was silently laughing at her she could tell.

"I was 12-years-old, Ron! For goodness sake." Hermione huffed.

"Hey," He caught her chin gently tilting it back to him. "I was only teasing." Hermione laughed despite herself.

Ron's eyes darted from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He opened his mouth to speak a few times but closed it each time without having said anything. Their arms were still loosely wrapped around each other making Hermione's heart flutter.

Then, so slowly that Hermione was afraid she was imagining it at first, Ron leaned down and kissed her.

It was entirely different from their first kiss. (Hermione's mind gave an uncharacteristic squeal of happiness that they now had a first kiss and a second kiss.) Before they had been scared, and frantic, not knowing if their deaths were only minutes away and their kiss had been desperate and hungry.

Now their kiss was slow and gentle as they let their mouths begin to know each other. One of Ron's hands was on her hip, the other tangled in her hair and Hermione's blood surged through her veins.

Eventually they pulled apart and Ron smiled down at her. "So," He grinned.

"So," She smiled back and he kissed her again.