Here is my take on Ron and Hermione's story. (Actually just their wedding, but whatever)

Discalimer: I don't own any of it. Rather unfortunate, really.

Ron honestly wasn't sure he knew what was going on in his head. Maybe nothing. Maybe the shock and the happiness, and the love had erased everything else, including themselves, and left him blank. All he knew was that he was standing in his room at the Burrow with Harry at his side, both of them in dress robes, both unsure what to say. Because today he was getting married. He, Ron Weasley, was going to marry Hermione Granger, the most amazing woman in the world. The woman who he loved.

Should he be excited? Nervous? Ecstatic? He supposed he was a little bit of all. And so much more. So much more, yet less. Because he wasn't sure he was feeling anything at all. His mind was having issues excepting what was such a plain fact. After all, hadn't his mum been going mad for weeks over preparation? Hadn't he seen the diamond ring on Hermione's finger every day since he'd proposed two months ago? Hadn't he proposed, down on one knee, looking into her beautiful eyes? Yes. But he still couldn't believe it.

OOO

Mrs. Weasley was fussing over her dress. Fleur was fussing over her hair. Hermione just stared at her reflection. She couldn't believe it was her. The smooth, loosely curled hair, Fleur's masterpiece. The sleeveless white silk dress, embroidered with white sting and pearls (admittedly fake ones, but the effect was the same). The small amounts of makeup applied expertly by Fleur. She didn't look herself at all. There was also the joyful, slightly manic grin that spread across her face. Because today she was marrying Ron Weasley, the man of her dreams. Yeah, that sounds cheesy, but she didn't really care. She was happy.

It wasn't as though she hadn't been happy since the Battle of Hogwarts. She had been with Ron after all. And she had been with her friends. But wounds like that can't be cured completely in just four years. So this was the first time in four years that she had been completely happy, without a sad thought or memory clouding her mind. There was just pure joy.

OOO

He looked into his best friend's face. A nervous grin was etched there, as he gazed down at his bride. She was beautiful, her hair slick and smooth, her white silk dress falling in folds around her, she wore her own smile as she stared up at Ron. He saw such joy and love in their faces. Though glad to see them so happy, still he was shocked to find himself here, best man at the wedding between his two best friends.

Hermione's father looked just as nervous as the couple, but Ginny and Luna, trailing her gracefully in dress robes of bright yellow (upon Luna's insistence) looked simply enthralled. Harry knew that everyone here was glad that these people were getting something this special, but none could be as delighted as him. After all they had done for him, after all that they had sacrificed, could he really wish for anything more than their happiness? Well, he thought, glancing over at Ginny, who now stood behind Hermione on the platform, perhaps one more thing…

A whispery, old voice began to croak out words that had no meaning to Harry. Surely, really, those words meant nothing, all that was important was the happiness in those two faces. The blue eyes of Ron and the smiling, brown eyes of Hermione meeting in a burst of joy and bliss and love.

Harry supposed he had always known this would happen, though it continued to hit him repeatedly with shock, even a terror that he would be shut out. He remembered first the day they had thought they were hearing Buckbeak being slaughtered, Hermione had sobbed on Ron's shoulder, he remembered the fight that had ensued after Hermione had gone to the Yule Ball with Victor Krum, he recalled Hermione's anger when Ron began to date Lavender Brown, he remembered the year he had spent traveling with two people who were obviously, at least somewhat in love with each other, though they didn't act on it. Finally their first kiss sprung to mind, in the midst of a battle. Yes, it was quite predictable that he would be standing here today. But he had turned a blind eye to it, not wanting it to be true. Now that it was undeniable fact however, he was happy for his best friends, really, truly happy.

"Do you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, take Hermione Jean Granger…" Harry made a valiant attempt to listen to the words, but found it extremely difficult. His mind was now turning to a different wedding, five years ago, the wedding of two people who sat in the front row with their two daughters, Victoire and Dominique. Bill and Fleur's had ended in disaster though, and this wedding, if Harry's plan succeeded, would end in something close to triumph.

Harry was shaken from his reverie as Ron and Hermione's lips met briefly. Hagrid trumpeted in the back row into his tablecloth sized hankerchief. As they broke apart he and Neville and Luna and Ginny rushed forward to be the first to congratulate the couple. Soon Harry saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron's brothers, and most of the other guests join the mess of hugs, laughs and in some cases (namely, Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger) tears.