A/N: I'm not JKR; the characters belong to her. I used 'Just a Kiss' by Lady Antebellum as inspiration, and I don't own that, either. I entered this in the Song Fic Boot Camp for that song.

Written for Kitty132383's birthday (an early present!) with the prompt "With great power comes great need to sleep" and written for WeasleySeeker's half birthday and request that I write fluff after my two depressing one-shots. So happy birthday to Kitty, and happy fluff-reading to Lucy!

Word Count: 1124

Rating: K-plus

Warnings: None

Hermione couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes a different nightmare came to her - the faces she loved who had died in battle; the very real possibility that she would never see her parents again; the pain of Bellatrix's wand tattooing her skin with profanity; the words the necklace Horcrux used to whisper to her as she sat up alone to guard the tent. It made her scared to fall asleep. Ginny lay soundlessly in the twin bed opposite her own. Moonlight coming through the window just barely illuminated the room enough for Hermione to grab her dressing gown and make her way out of the bedroom and up the stairs. Naturally, Harry and Ron were sharing a room, but maybe, if she was lucky, she would only wake the one she wanted to be around more than anything.

She opened the door to his room and quietly sat down on the corner of his bed. She squeezed his hand and his eyes darted open, and he looked around nervously. "'Mione?"

"Shh, Ron. I don't want to wake Harry."

"Whadderya doin' here?"

"I couldn't sleep. Do you think you could take a walk with me?"

"'Kay. Gimme a minute," he responded, sitting up and fumbling for his wand.

"Okay. I'll just wait outside."

He soon joined her, wearing a dressing gown and yawning theatrically. "It's two in the morning, you know."

"Consider it a compliment," Hermione said, tentatively reaching out for his hand. "I couldn't sleep and I woke you. Not Ginny, not Harry, you."

"Well, yeah," Ron said. "But after the way you dropped highly dangerous basilisk fangs to snog me, I sort of expected something to happen sooner. It's nearly June, mate."

"And you haven't approached me, either! Maybe I was hoping you would be daring, chivalrous, you know, a typical Gryffindor male, and pursue me!" Hermione dropped his hand, trying to figure out what it was about Ron Weasley that she liked so much. She stormed away from him, walking fast enough that it would be hard for him to catch up, but making sure he could still see her and follow. Hermione didn't stop until the Burrow was barely a dot on the distance, then sat down along the bank of the stream that constituted the back edge of their property.

A few minutes later, Ron came half-running to her side. "Bloody hell, Hermione! I thought you were going to make me chase you to London or something."

"I thought about it," she said, still looking ahead at the way the moonlight played against the mild current of the stream. "But this was far enough. At least I got you to pursue me." She smiled knowingly.

"Er, yeah. Right. I suppose I did!" With each sentence, Ron's face filled with a bit more understanding of what she meant, and he boldly reached toward her and took her hand in his. "So, um, Hermione? Will you please be my girlfriend?"

"Why?"

"You're impossible, you know that? One minute you're begging me to pursue you, and then once I do you just ask me why?"

Hermione sighed. "It's perfectly logical, Ron. I begged you to pursue me, and you did. How do I know then that you're not just doing it to appease me? How do I know you mean it?"

Carefully, Ron turned her face so she was looking at him and pulled a strand of her bushy hair behind her ear. "Because you're beautiful, and intelligent, and so much better than me. I know I don't deserve you and I really shouldn't deserve a chance with you. But every night when I was gone, you were the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep and the name I whispered, half-asleep, whenever Bill would come wake me in the morning. I kept living, even though I hated myself, because I knew I needed you. I wanted to make sure we would be okay. I knew I couldn't live without you."

As he spoke, his eyes were tearing up. Hermione pulled herself even closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. For the first time since their moment of passion during the battle, she tentatively pressed her lips to his. It was different - calm and intentional instead of impulsive and intense - but in some ways it was even more perfect than the last. "Okay, Ron. I'll be your girlfriend."

They moved away from the stream and lay down side by side in the soft grass, holding hands and talking. "Hermione, why did you come get me anyway?"

"I was having nightmares. I've had them almost every night since we've gotten here, and I couldn't fall asleep. The images kept flashing from one to another and it was all I could take. I needed - I needed to be with you." Ron reached for her forearm, for the place where she would always be tattooed with a terrible word. He kissed it through the long sleeves of her dressing gown and she smiled and shivered some.

They continued to talk as the moon rose higher and higher over their heads. Ron found himself telling her things he hadn't told Harry, things he hadn't told Bill or any of his brothers. It was hard for him to hold back his thoughts this late at night with the woman he loved resting in his arms. He was half tempted to ask her to marry him that night. But he couldn't do it- he couldn't rush something that felt so right. They could take it slow and still get there one day. He yawned. "Maybe we should go to bed. It's late."

Hermione giggled against him. "Actually, it's early. But perhaps you're right. Aren't we supposed to be giving some kind of interview in the afternoon? I guess we're nearly celebrities now. And you know what they say: with great power-"

"Comes great need to sleep?" Ron guessed.

"Something like that. Let's go."

Walking back to the Burrow, Ron's arm protectively around her waist, her head on his shoulder. At the door to Ginny's room, they paused. He did not want to say goodnight to her, to end what had been his most perfect night in months. Leaning down to her, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, just brushing against them, and it set off a fire inside of him. But despite what he was feeling, he pulled away from her. She looked up at him, sad, expectant, but he said, "No- I don't want to mess this thing up. So tonight, I think a kiss goodnight is all we need." She nodded, leaned her forehead against his chin, and opened the door to her room.