A/N: Hey all. Thank you so much for your reviews. I know updates are kind of slow lately (although this one came pretty quickly, thank you), but in one week my summer break starts and I will get loads more time to write! YAY! Right now I'm in a bit of an inspired mood…a certain boy who means a lot to me gave me a hug today. J Haha, sounds lame, but it pretty much made my day. And it also made me inspired to write about Ronald and Hermione in their seventh year (after the Malfoy Manor), from a third person point of view. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

It was late, too late for Hermione to be up. Fleur had told her quite a few times that she needed her sleep if she was going to make a speedy recovery. But Hermione couldn't sleep. If she did, she knew she would dream, and she knew those dreams would be nightmares. It was impossible to endure what she had and still sleep soundly.

She heard footsteps in the hallway. Her hand instinctively jumped to her wand. She knew the source of the noise was most likely one of the other inhabitants of the house, but her months in the wilderness had left a constant sense of anxiety that would likely long outlive the war. Her door opened. Her hand tightened around the wand, but relaxed instantly. It was Ron.

He simply stared at her a few moments, smiling, taking her in. She would never know it, but his mind was completely filled with thoughts of her beauty. "Hi," she said after a moment, as the silence had made her feel rather uncomfortable.

"Hi," he replied, sitting down gently on the edge of her bed. He hadn't taken his eyes off her once.

She gave him a moment to explain himself. When he didn't, she decided to encourage him: "Are you here for a particular reason? Not that I mind, if you're not, but just…um, I'd want to know if you need something, or something," she finished rather lamely, her cheeks turning red in embarrassment of her own stupidity.

"Oh, no, I don't need anything. Do you, because I'll go get-"

"No, no, I don't need anything. I was just wondering if you were."

"Well, I don't, so…um, I just wanted to come in and make sure you're okay."

"Well, I am, so…"

"Maybe I should, um, go, then?"

"No, no, don't go. Well, you don't have to, anyways…"

"Well, I don't want to, so if it's okay-"

"Yes, stay. I want you to, I mean, if you want to."

They were quiet again. Then, he asked what she'd been wondering herself: "Hermione, why is this so damned awkward? You're like my best friend, for God's sake!"

"Oh, I don't know. I was just going to ask you the same thing, actually," she studied his face. He still hadn't taken his eyes off her for a single moment. Those eyes…they were the same blue they'd always been, but something was different…something in the expression, perhaps. In the way he was looking at her. There was something in it besides the general friendly warmth he'd looked at her with for the past seven years. It was something deeper…there also seemed to be a touch of fear. Fear for her. It was as if he were afraid she was going to break, to the point that she could never be fixed.

"Something's changed," she observed bluntly, locking her eyes on his.

"You're right," he said, his voice close to a whisper.

She waited again for an explanation, but it didn't come immediately. His eyes pierced hers with their intensity. This lasted a few long moments before he finally looked away, and said, softly:

"I've always been scared of change, you know. But now I'm the one causing it. Don't you just love irony?"

She was silent a moment, before she said: "How do you know its just you?"

His eyes snapped back up and locked for on hers for a second time. Instantly they each understood what the other was trying to say. In an instant the past seven years of hidden feelings, jealousy, mind games, pointless arguments, and all the like faded into the background, they didn't matter now. In an instant they seemed to have all the conversations they'd avoided to spare awkwardness and embarrassment. All of this they understood in just one moment. Amazing what a difference moments can make. Incredible how everything that needs to be said can be understood with just a moment's eye contact.

"You know we can't," she whispered. "Not now, not here. It just isn't right, you know that."

"I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to."

"I almost did." She saw tears in his eyes, and it scared her. He never cried. She had never seen him cry. He'd always been so strong. And he was crying for her…because he was scared too. He was scared of losing her. And, in an instant, she was crying too.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Don't cry. I can't stand to see you…"

She sat up and positioned herself so she was sitting next to him, and leaned her head into his arm. A moment later she felt something pressing against her curls. He kissed her head softly, then turned to rest his cheek on the top of her hair. They sat like that a few minutes, having an odd sense of mutual understanding. For once, they knew exactly where they stood. But moving from this point wasn't going to be so easy.

Slowly, he moved his hand so that it covered hers. She squeezed it gently. "I want this. I want you," he whispered. "I want us to be like this all the time."

"So do I," she whispered back.

"I know I've been stupid-" he began, but she interrupted:

"It doesn't matter now. All I know, Ron, is that I'm here, and you're here, and it feels right."

"For once, I know the same things you do."

She lifted her head gently to rest her chin on his shoulder, but didn't remove her hand from his. "This will happen, eventually. It's got to, doesn't it?"

"It damn well better. To be honest, Hermione, this is all I've wanted for the last three years, I'm just so thick it took a near death experience for me to finally get it. But that's really the point, isn't it? I mean, you never know, do you? With everything that's happened…that will happen."

She squeezed his hand again, and smiled weakly, locking her eyes on his once again. "I promise," she said slowly, choosing each word carefully, "that when all of this is over, it will happen. If you want it to, of course."

He smiled too at these words, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned down slowly to kiss her softly, on the lips. It was their first kiss, and it was, to both of them, simply amazing.. Neither of them had known before that it's possible to feel so much in just an instant. But they both knew it had to be. Now was not the time to get carried away, it was time to focus on the war, helping Harry, and saving the Wizarding world. Their kiss wasn't even a beginning, not yet: it was a promise of what was to come.

A/N: That was…sappy. But I was in a certain mood. I'm pretty sure that that exact same scene has been written by thirty different people, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. J