Hermione Granger wrapped the robe around her, and limped out of the room she was sharing with Luna. She was feeling much steadier on her feet in recent days, but her body was still far from recovered.

Out of the window, she could see a redheaded figure sat on the sand just outside the house. Even if she hadn't known that Bill was helping Fleur with something in the kitchen, she wouldn't have mistaken that signature ginger hair for that of any of his siblings. She could always recognise Ron, as poorly as she still was.

Tentatively, she descended the stairs, making sure to take each one individually. Her legs were still wobbling, but felt firmer on the floorboards than they had been several days prior.

As she opened the French doors, Ron turned. His eyes were full of such tenderness that Hermione felt her heart beat painfully against her chest. Hermione's legs teetered dangerously beneath her, but –in a flash- Ron had scrambled up to her, and had looped her arm over his shoulder, keeping her body supported against his own.

'Hermione, you're not supposed to be up walking yet.'

'I'm fine, Ron,' Hermione said, trying not to wince as he gently sat her down in the doorway, her legs dangling off the top step. 'I'm not an invalid.'

'I… I know you're not,' Ron mumbled, his voice betraying his concern. 'I… I just…'

'I know,' Hermione said, leaning into his side. 'I appreciate it.'

Ron seemed satisfied for her reassurances, and reached for a nearby blanket, draping it over them, so that they were both insulated from the cold breeze blowing off the sea. As she leaned into him, Hermione felt her skin pressing through his shirt, onto the scars that covered his shoulder.

'Ron?'

'Hmm?'

'I… I never did apologise for splinching you, after the ministry.'

'You don't have to,' Ron murmured. 'I know you didn't mean to do it.'

'But I should have been more careful,' she continued. 'You lost so much blood, and you needed proper food to replenish yourself, but we all had was mushrooms. I'm… I'm sorry that I thought we could just move on from that.'

Ron wrapped his arm around her under the blanket.

'You were doing the best you could. You healed me when I was bleeding out. You saved me.'

'You saved me too, Ron.' Hermione said, quietly. 'At… at Malfoy Manor.'

She felt Ron's muscles tense.

'I… I thought I was too late,' Ron said, and Hermione was startled to see that his eyes were sparkling with tears. 'I… I thought y-you were…'

'I wasn't,' she said, nuzzling into him. 'I… I almost did. B-but… I… I heard your voice. I heard you calling my name.'

'You mean you heard me behaving like a prat⸺'

'No,' Hermione insisted. 'Don't you see, Ron? Your voice was what kept me hanging on. If you hadn't been, I… I might've…'

Ron's arms fully wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and Hermione pressed herself against his chest, feeling his pulse beat strongly against her. It felt even more wonderful than ever, given how close she had come to never being like this with him again.

'Ron?'

'Y-yeah, 'Mione?'

'Are… are you scared?'

'Always am. But… we…we gotta keep trying, and make it through this. Harry's got the best chance of defeating you-know-who, and … well, I reckon he's got a good shot if we're there with him.'

Hermione snuggled into Ron's side.

'I think you might be right there. Then, we can just… live.'

If Ron picked up that she meant "we" to refer to him and herself, he didn't voice it. Instead, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

The sea breeze ruffled against Hermione's hair, but it couldn't extinguish the hope that was steadily burning in her heart. Maybe… just maybe… they could do this. It wasn't winning the war, or saving the wizarding world. Maybe not as important to history in the grand scheme of things but, in its own way, something very special indeed.