Notes: This section contains original dialouge from Chapter Five of Deathly Hallows, which I'm fairly certain you'll recognize. Hopefully, Jo's generosity in letting us into the Potterverse makes this intrusion acceptable.

Thanks again to kitthebrave, speediest beta in the Western world, who kept the apostrophes in line Thanks also to redlightspecia1 for keeping a close eye out for anvils in the sky while Hermione looked for Ron.

Love is something eternal - the aspect may change, but not essence. There is the same difference in a person before and after he is in love as there is in an unlighted lamp and one that is burning. The lamp was there and it was a good lamp, but now it is shedding light, too, and that is its real function. Vincent Van Gogh

The relief of putting her feet on the ground of the Burrow's back lawn was overwhelming. Hermione's knees buckled before Kingsley Shacklebolt's strong hands were at her shoulders, setting her steady. Such a furious attack despite all their careful planning; how was that possible?

She saw Hagrid first and knew Harry was safe. Hagrid would never willingly survive a fight that took Harry. Running towards them, Hermione threw herself gratefully into Harry's arms; he was safe, he would know, he would tell her about Ron. Instead of answers, there were angry voices and harsh demands. It wasn't over then, it wasn't okay. She buried herself deeper into Harry's embrace unable to bring herself to ask what she could barely admit she most needed to know.

"Who else is back?" Hermione heard Kingsley say and braced herself to turn around and face everyone else who had as much, no, more to fear than she had.

Not Ron, not Ron, not Ron…

Hermione forced herself to follow the conversation and almost vomited onto the grass as Remus tersely informed them that George had lost an ear. An ear! George, always so funny and yet so kind in his own way. Lost it to Snape, no less, whom she'd made the awful mistake of trusting. Ron had been right about him and she'd never given him any credit for it. She'd never given him enough credit for anything. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

"Give me the chance, Ron, just give me the chance. Come back to us and I'll tell you how right you were and you can lord it over me and tease me and tell me you're smarter than I ever wanted to admit. Just don't leave me here waiting for you," she pleaded internally, over and over again, as they stared wordlessly at the night sky.

Hermione dimly heard Hagrid hollering out to Harry for help but her mind stayed pinned on the stars, praying on each one. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight," she whispered and saw Lupin glance almost angrily at her. His face was stern and set, this man she had always considered one of the gentlest she knew. She wanted to take his hand but this Remus scared her.

Hagrid joined them and the sheer size and warmth of him provided the only comfort she'd received all night. When she leaned against him, he put his shielding hand behind her to compensate for her lack of strength. And, she knew, to hold her if the worst was true. She'd never told him that it would be the worst for her because she hadn't quite realized it herself. But they'd none of them ever needed to tell Hagrid things like that; he saw them long before anyone else.

There was a scuffle behind the tree, a rushing of human forms and Ron's dad and Fred came tearing towards them. "My children?" he demanded harshly of Lupin.

"George is injured, but not too seriously," Remus answered. He paused momentarily before continuing in the same dead tone, "Bill and Ron aren't back yet." Ron's dad shared a stricken look with Lupin before running towards the Burrow faster than Hermione had ever seen him move. Kingsley tried to get in front of him, demanding "Wait just a minute, Arthur." He was aiming his wand towards Mr. Weasley, "How many times have we met at the Ministry in the past week?" Fred, pelting after his father, shot a dangerous look at Kingsley and raised his own wand.

"I'll prove whom I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you," Arthur hollered, the last words reaching them from the kitchen entrance.

A little later Hermione felt rather than saw Harry and Ginny join them. Ginny took Hermione's hand in hers, both of them trembling and ice cold despite the balmy air. She should be comforting them, she knew, but every ounce of her being was concentrating on bringing Ron safely back.

"I didn't even say goodbye," she whispered helplessly. "Why didn't I say goodbye?"

"He's with Tonks. Tonks is great Auror. And Ron can fight, Hermione. You know that."

"Thank you, Ginny," she breathed, knowing Ginny was unwilling as she was to acknowledge that knowing how to fight wasn't going to be enough for all of them to survive this bleak night. She let go of Ginny's hand to slide her arm around her waist, resting her hand on Harry and Ginny's clasped ones. They opened just enough to allow room for her fingers to twist in theirs. Hermione couldn't escape the impression that they were as a trio of waiting mourners.

The broom appeared overhead; her heart was in her throat, almost gagging her. If he was hurt, if it was Tonks alone…and then she saw two upright figures. She screamed "It's them," as Ron, miraculously Ron, came stumbling towards them, unblinking, staring at them with frantic eyes. Hermione heard him mutter, "You're okay," before she was on him and he was with her, arms moving securely around her, finally warming her, whole and present.

"I thought…I thought," Hermione wept. She had flung herself gratefully into Harry's arms more often than she should have had to; no one should be in that much danger. She'd hardly ever done so with Ron. She wasn't very good at taking chances. She should have tried harder.

As Ron gently reassured her, Hermione wondered if he realized that she had been worrying about him differently than the others. She worried about him more, as disloyal and guilty as they made her feel. It would have been like personally losing someone if Ron had died. With that thought, she lifted herself even closer to him and whispered daringly against his neck, "I wish I had told you before we left how much it matters to me." His arms tightened around her and she wanted to spend the rest of this awful night being held by him. He might have felt the same because when Tonks starting telling them of Ron's skill in the fight neither one of them let go.

And then she messed it up. Again. She was as impressed as she would have been anyone who managed what he had. More that that, she was proud of him and a little proud that he was standing there with her. He hadn't understood her, but that was okay. It was, in its own way, as telling as the way he had rested his warm hands on her hips. She was learning how very much her opinion counted to him.

After they had had learned the awful news of Mad-Eye's death; after they had watched the shocked but not surprised faces of the adults; after they had drank the first of what was going to be many toasts to the dead; after they had followed Harry into the yard and then chased him back into the house again, Hermione was exhausted. She didn't think she had ever felt so much in such a short period of time. Still, when Ron asked her if she was ready to go back inside, she told him she rather they stayed out here alone for a bit.

"I killed that man," Ron said uncertainly.

"Oh, well, maybe…maybe you didn't. And we may have killed people before without knowing for certain. I may even have killed someone tonight, who knows?" she stumbled out, trying to bolster him.

"I know he's dead and I know I killed him, Hermione. I watched him drop to the ground. It's weird. I was so triumphant the minute I saw him fall. Then I kept picturing one of us falling like that, maybe even Harry. Maybe even you. It's a good thing we were almost at Aunt Muriel's house because I was close to panicking."

Ron paused and then went on, "And then it was Mad-Eye that fell. I never expected that."

"Me either," Hermione replied. "Mad-Eye and Dumble…Dumbledore seemed untouchable. How can we do this without Dumbledore, Ron?"

Ron didn't answer other than to once again put his arm around her.

He had touched her more in the past few weeks that he had in the whole time she they'd been friends. It was nice, she decided, very, very nice actually.

"You're braver than me. I was panicking the whole time we were up there. This is the very last time I ride on a creature's back."

Ron snorted. "We've got to do something about you and flying after this is over, Hermione. We could go on broom rides together."

"I'm glad you killed him, Ron," she agreed obliquely.

"Yeah. I reckon one less piece of Death Eater scum can't be a bad thing."

"Yes," she said pensively. "I can't explain it, though. I'm glad you killed him because he was after you."

"That was pretty much the deciding factor for me, too," Ron replied ironically as her took her hand. "Ready to go in? I'm getting hungry."