A/N: So, I was going to update this around Thursday, but my plans were spoiled by an injury. One of my basketball teammates shot an air-ball at Thursday night's game, and I saved it from going out-of-bounds... but, on the downside, I ran into a concrete wall headfirst with nine stitches in my head, a sprained ankle, a busted lip, and several bruises. :( I still stayed at school on Friday, but as soon as I got home, I crashed for fourteen hours. Some rebound, huh? Anyway, being at the ER, I couldn't update, so I've had to wait until Christmas break.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

Chapter 25: You and Me

I couldn't stop moving. I'd been a caged animal for so long in the woods, I didn't know if I would ever stop. The dirt road was hard-packed ground, easy to tread on. Keep running, I urged myself. Don't think about the funeral. Don't think about the ones to come. Nothing's going to find you out here. Breathe.

My mind had been on autopilot for the last several days and I'm just now starting to loosen up. I couldn't have went through it otherwise. Couldn't face all those friends at Fred's funeral. Tomorrow I'll have to do it all over again with Remus and Tonks. Andromeda asked for them to have a service together, and no one had the nerve to contradict her.

Voldemort is dead. We should be joyous, celebrating with wizards and Muggles alike, but we're the misfits who saved the world. We have our own battles to fight now, our own lives to live. Wanting to stop for a long time now, I was relieved when my body took a break. I turned around, knowing I wouldn't make it back if I exhausted myself further. Hold your arms above your head, I instructed. My breathing returned to normal in a few seconds as I walked back to the Burrow.

Inside the house, I started for the nearest armchair when I felt something on my shoulder. Without thinking, I swung for whatever was behind me. Under normal circumstances, I would have realized that it was someone's hand and turned around to greet whomever. But my nerves were on edge and I registered a hand on my back as fear. I only caught his face too late.

Damn, my fight or flight senses were messed up for life. The only upside was that I didn't know what I was swinging at, so the blow landed on his jaw and didn't draw any blood. My mouth was gaping open in shock. He didn't even complain, but he didn't let go even with the force of my fist struck him.

"B-but, I can mend it. It j-just needs a—" I was almost going to explain the healing properties of arrowroot powder, a Muggle spice, and how Mrs. Weasley probably had some in the kitchen. He stopped me from saying anything else, kissing my forehead and pulling away. "I'm sorry," I said simply, but I know two words don't really cover everything I want to say.

He gives me a quizzical look. "Not for hitting you— I mean, well... that too." I pause, blushing in embarrassment. "Look, Harry showed me what happened the night you came back. In the Pensieve," I finished.

Ron's face brightens. "You mean you don't—" he begins to ask.

"I'm sorry for what I didn't say," I admitted. "If I had the nerve to say something, the Horcrux wouldn't have bothered you. It meddles in secrets and makes you feel uncomfortable about them—"

"But the bloody thing hated me," he argued.

"Only because you cared. If it didn't matter, the Horcrux wouldn't have tormented you with it," I explained. "It thrived on Harry's passion, my anxiety, and you were a ball of emotion about to explode. It didn't hate you, you hated it because of what it made you think."

"So, if you've thought all this through," he started slowly. I nodded, assuring him I'd dwelled on this for days now. "You can tell me if it's true or not..."

I shook my head. No, it never was. It's why I couldn't understand why he'd left. I loved him. His eyes were bright, shining with every ounce of emotion he had in him, and that was quite a bit. He wasn't a ginger for nothing, you know. Just as before, he disregarded his new bruise on his jaw and kissed me, no longer on the forehead. In the Chamber of Secrets, he was fiery and reckless, but now he was just Ron, Ron Weasley. Charming.

A/N: Unfortunately, my next post will most likely be the last for this story. It has nothing to do with ratings or inspiration. I've loved writing this and it's my most popular story, but I promised 26 chapters for each letter of the alphabet.

No need to fret! I still have one more chapter to write and plans for other stories so be sure to follow me. I also have other stories involving HP: Playing with Fire, Know Thine Namesake, and Never Like This, the latter of which Ron/Hermione fans will like. A belated, merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!

Sunny!

P.S. The last bit was from the Sorcerer's Stone...

Hermione: And... you are?

Ron: Ron, Ron Weasley.

Hermione: Charmed.