Chapter 6 - Bill Weasley
He first knew a exactly a month after the final battle.
He knew just how much she missed her brother, especially that day of all days, exactly a month after his death.
And he knew just how much he blamed himself for his death.
He watched the fireworks burst into the sky, a celebration of the downfall of You Know Who, a sort of one-month anniversary.
But he also kept an eye on his youngest sister, stood right at the back, watching her to make sure it wasn't she who broke down in tears, who lost control.
But what he watched instead when her face fell slightly, was not tears down her cheeks, but her inching closer and closer to Harry, who stood, just him, beside her.
He watched them both watch the fireworks.
He watched them both sense the other beside them.
He watched them long to reach out to one another.
Then he watched them turn to face each other.
He watched her say something, then stop, struggling for the right words.
He watched him pause.
Then he watched him place his hands gently, tenderly on both her cheeks, cupping her face.
And he watched him lower his face, slowly, gently, tenderly again towards hers, giving her time to pull away if she wished.
But she didn't, and he watched him kiss her: sweetly, tenderly, loving.
He watched her kiss him back, slipping her hands up around his neck.
And as he watched the kiss, he knew that in their minds, the fireworks were gone, the sadness about Fred was gone, the happiness about Voldemort was gone, everything and everyone was gone, and it was just about the person in their arms.
He knew that his brother's best friend was in love with his little sister, and that his little sister was in love with his brother's best friend, and that their love was strong, that nothing was to keep them apart.
He could see it in their kiss.