A/N: Cute little one-shot that was requested by a reader. Let me know what you think!

-Ashley

Ron couldn't believe he'd never really held Hermione's hand before. It was so easy and natural, and it was definitely more satisfying than dinnertime, and that was saying something. He was now pleased to say that he had spent plenty of time close enough to Hermione's face to count the freckles on her nose. There were 17 of them, all scattered and faint enough that you couldn't see them from a distance. They were just 17 more pieces of her for him to love.

And oh, he did love her. He had loved her for years, but he hadn't even known it. It was amazing how easy it was to admit it now. She was his silver lining in the clouds of his family's despair over losing Fred. After listening to sobbing and moaning all day long from his family, she was the one who would run her fingers through his hair and promise that it would all be better soon, even if she didn't quite believe it herself.

The only bad thing about their sudden but inevitable relationship was that he couldn't tell his mother. She had been through enough shock in the wake of losing Fred and welcoming Percy back and trying to compensate for the loss of Tonks and Remus by finding ways to include Teddy in all of their future plans and crooning over Harry and consoling George that it seemed almost cruel to spring something as important as he and Hermione on her now.

However, three weeks after the dust around Hogwarts had settled, it seemed like he couldn't put it off any longer; not with Hermione hanging around all the time and the urge to be constantly kissing her being as strong as it was.

It didn't help that Harry and Ginny had wasted absolutely no time in jumping right back into their old ways, and seeing them snogging around every corner didn't lessen his own urges in the slightest. Finally he plucked up the courage to say something.

Everyone was over for dinner. Fleur and Ginny were helping Mrs. Weasley to cook, Bill, Charlie, and Harry were outside setting up tables, Hermione was gathering utensils, and George was sitting quietly in the corner pouring over order books looking void of emotion, which had become normal for him. As soon as Hermione slipped outside to take out the plates and cutlery, Ron took his opportunity to weasel in beside his mother at the counter.

"Uh, Mum?" he asked, attempting to reach over and help her peel a potato, but she swatted his hand away.

"What?" she asked in an uninterested voice as though there were nothing in the world she cared about more than getting every last bit of skin off of the potato in her hand. She wasn't even using magic.

"So—er—It's been three weeks since… you know—And I just wanted to tell you that—Well you see—"

"Ronald Weasley," she said in a stern voice, setting down the potato and pointing the knife in her hand at him in a threatening manner, "Are you finally planning on telling me that you and Hermione are together?"

Ron gaped at her awkwardly, opening and closing his mouth as though he were a fish.

"I told her ages ago," came a whisper right next to his ear. He turned his head so quickly that he got a crick in the neck. Hermione was standing there with a smirk on her face, clearly trying to hide a burst of laughter.

Mrs. Weasley had gone back to peeling potatoes, but she, too, had a smile on her face. It might have been the first one she'd shown in weeks.

"Goodness knows that we could use a bit of good news around here," she said, setting a peeled potato in the rapidly filling pot (Ginny and Fleur were using magic). "After all the death and destruction, it's nice to know that there are still good things happening."

Ron felt Hermione's fingers lace through his and he leaned over to kiss her softly on the forehead. "Yeah… good things," he whispered, looking into her soft brown eyes with adoration. It really was a wonder he'd never noticed how in love with her he actually was.