a/n: This chapter is new and wasn't there in the old draft. Really hope you all enjoy it, Thanks to all of you for your reviews- they are my pieces of glowing light during these tough times. much love

Chapter 34: One More Step Forward

Hermione picked the first items she could find, an old white top and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms.
The heating charm in the house had been reset by Ron but she twitched as she removed his heavy jacket and dropped it on the bed hurriedly, and did a double-take at the familiar sight of having his clothes on her bed. Back in the day, it irked her that he was so messy at times. Ironically, living in an orderly house for the past seven years had been more painful.

She discarded the towel, grabbed a pair of undergarments and began slipping on her knickers when her body gave a familiar jolt. She was naked and Ron was just beyond the door… She could even hear him moving around. She shuddered, trembling a little when the elastic of the waistband snapped in place. She picked a bra, her hands shaking in mortification at how desperate her body was for his touch. Determined not to ponder too much on the risky predicament she had landed herself in, Hermione dressed hurriedly. Perhaps she could make him stay for dinner, she wondered as she left the room to find Ron walk in from the kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs.

Hermione released a small sigh, soaking in his sight, the longing in her heart intensifying.

"Isn't the Muggle central heating working?" he asked as he walked towards her, handed her a mug before proceeding to grab a spot on the couch. He looked up at her expectantly as he patted the space next to him. It took her all the self-control she possessed and some more to stop herself from flying back into his arms. She reached him quickly to take her place, scooting closer as if on instinct as folded her legs under her. The combined warmth of the heating charm and cup in her hands, the steam wafting up in mesmerizing patterns and Ron's presence seemed to seep into her heart, warding away all the awful nightmares she had been battling the last few days. Her heart full, she sniffed away her tears and rubbed the top of her nose consciously. She had a million questions for him but not one came to mind as she adjusted herself to watch him better and sucked in a breath, biting back her tears.

"Why do you always return with so many injuries?" she choked out, annoyed but not sure whether it was directed at him or his job.

Ron, just about to take another sip, met her eyes at her words and lowered back his cup, a strange tenderness in his eyes. It somehow broke her heart even more. She looked away and swallowed thickly. Ever since his return she had struggled to read him while he kept his mask firmly on. But this crazy, proxy engagement seemed to have stripped them bare in front of each other- his eyes were as expressive as she remembered from years ago. He looked away sheepishly after giving her a small smile; she was sure he hadn't expected her to show any kindness.

Who patched him up all these years? Why did he have so many scars on his face? Had she been blind all these weeks? How had she not seen these before?

She looked back to take him in better. Ron was etched into her memory- she knew every freckle on that face but now there were so many new marks that she was a stranger to. They had mostly faded into thin white lines that blended into his pale skin indicating they were from years ago. Years when he had hurt and healed without her being aware. It was very possible that he might have returned broken and injured while she might have spent those very same moments trying her best to hate him, to forget him.

As unbearable pain tore through her, she placed her palm on his cheek and he closed his eyes at her touch. Hermione let out a strangled sigh. But it wouldn't do to dwell on the time they had lost, she reminded herself. Seven years were gone and never coming back, but they still had the present and hopefully many more years in the future together. She exhaled soundly before picking up her wand to Accio the potion box that flew neatly into her hands.

"You are staying down for dinner," she announced after she had found her voice.

"I'm not going anywhere, why don't you finish your tea first?"

"Why don't you come back a little less hurt?" she retorted and heard him stifle a chuckle.

Although she sent him a glare from the corner of her eye, she had to bite down her smile as she picked out a few vials she knew she'd need.

"Put your cup down," she instructed as she stood up and moved closer to him and tilted his face up, scrutinizing the new wounds and bruises. He looked up slowly, those eyes meeting her gaze and making her smile despite herself. She bit down on her lower lip and busied herself with the small glass bottle labelled Essence of Dittany. As she poured a few drops each on each wound, breathing deeply as the broken skin sizzled before sealing shut, she tried her best to focus on the task at hand and ignore the mad thudding of her heart at the feeling of his eyes on her face.

"You have quite a good stock of healing potions," he observed after a while and she let out a small sound of acknowledgement without accepting aloud that she had only refilled the whole set since he had left for the mission.

She knew he hadn't come back straight to her, he had taken a shower first. While she wondered how bad his face would have been before, she was glad that he had made that stop to wash up first. Merlin knew she wasn't very confident about seeing the battle-torn version of him. This was bad enough.

She dabbed dittany on his cheekbones, running her finger over the few-days-old copper stubble and as her brain caught up with what she had done, she pulled her finger away.

"How did you know I was home?" she asked hurriedly.

"Went to your office first. Met your assistant," he replied. "She mentioned you've not been your own self the past few days."

"You met Annette?" she gasped ignoring the second part.

"Yeah, why?"

Hermione cleared her throat, fighting the angry green monster inside. "Nothing really," she replied offhandedly. "Just that...she has a massive crush on you."

Ron looked genuinely taken aback. "Really?" he asked.

It made her a little happy to think that he was still the clueless idiot she knew. "Why so surprised, Auror Weasley?" she teased, feeling a little lighter. "I'm sure you receive a lot many fan mails from a lot of women." The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Wow, I don't know. They send me only the important ones."

"Who?"

"The team that screens our mails, " he chuckled and continued perhaps due to her perplexed expression. "Unless it's any of the family owls, my mails get screened before they come to me."

"Really? Why?"

"Well… I'm not very popular among a certain section of the population."

"Oh," she replied softly before pouring a little more Dittany into the ball of cotton. "Hate mails?" she asked quietly.

He sucked in a breath as she dabbed the cotton over a specially deep cut before replying. "Hate mails, cursed mails and jinxed ones," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

Unsure how to reply to that she ran her thumb tenderly on his cheek on the pretext of wiping off the extra ointment. There was so much she still didn't know about his life now. So much had changed. And yet, sitting here in the familiar old room, he felt like the same Ron she had known forever.

"Let's finish patching you up and get some dinner," she announced as she touched his wet hair, adjusting the still damp fringe on his temple and brushing it back and with her fingers. All she had aimed to do was get a better look at his forehead but the whiff of his shampoo hit her suddenly and before she knew what she was doing, her fingers tugged on his hair and she heard him swear softly- it didn't seem she had hurt him, quite the contrary rather and she let go quickly, trying her best to sound casual.

"I… erm...I'll check your hands in a minute but have I missed any spot?" she asked, looking away to hide the reddening of her face as she pushed back. Ron smiled consciously and rubbed the back of his neck before wincing.

"Erm...Neck?"

"Turn around." She had wanted to sound exasperated, but it came out much softer. Ron folded his legs under him and turned and she could see it clearly.

The cut ran down from the back of his neck to disappear out of view behind his collar. It did not look like a spell wound.

"Did you get scratched by one of them?" she inquired fearfully as she shone her wand light on it. The wound wasn't exactly very deep but it must have been painful.

He halted a little. "Fingernails," he replied and hurried before she could respond to the shocking announcement. "It's not a full moon yet so technically they aren't werewolves- but even when not transformed they don't remain completely human either I guess."

She grasped his shoulder tightly before letting go. "Aren't they supposed to be weak?" she asked, "Professor Lupin used to be so miserable during these times," she pondered aloud, trying to keep her mind from falling down into the abyss of her nightmares again.

"He fought the transformation, Hermione. These buggers draw strength from it."

The dread intensified. "You weren't bitten, were you?"

"No," he replied, "just scratched. I wouldn't have come here if I was, would I?" he replied quietly, turning around a smidge so she could only see his left profile. But her heart skipped a beat at the softness in his voice. "I got some Dittany on it so the poison should be in control, but it didn't seal the wound."

"You missed powdered silver," she replied, holding onto his shoulder. She wanted to curl inside his arms and cry, she also wanted to wrap him in her embrace and never let go. But she wasn't really allowed to do either, was she, she reminded herself, feeling more miserable by the minute. Well, at least she could heal him. She picked a small wooden box and scooped out a little powdered silver onto a small dish before adding Dittany to it and mixing the two well with a small wooden spoon. She picked the mixture in a gauge and dabbed it onto the cut.

"Powdered silver is not a common ingredient in a potion box," he observed aloud while Hermione continued with her work.

"I know it isn't," she replied softly, ensuring she covered the whole scratch with the mixture. "Does it burn?"

"A little, yes."

"Can't leave even a tiny spot," she stated aloud. "Even missing an inch might trigger a massive infection."

Once she had covered the part she could see and the scratch disappeared under his shirt, she tugged on his collar to get better access, making a small impatient sound as she couldn't reach the rest. She managed to cover a little more as her fingers dipped inside his shirt but she could see the cut extend further down his back. Engrossed, she pulled on his arm causing him to face her again and began unbuttoning his shirt. She had only reached the second one before his large hand covered hers, stopping her mid-process. It was only then she registered what she was doing.

Hermione could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, could see the black undershirt he wore and the fine peppering of his freckles. She looked up, shocked, an apology forming and dying on her lips as she met his gaze, hypnotized. Her hands found a will of their own and struggled within his grasp to continue but his fingers wrapped around her wrists instantly. Ron heaved a sigh and blinked slowly, his pupils dark, breathing deep. She sucked in a breath, her heart hammering so loudly that she worried he could hear it too. She tried to remind herself that she ought to at least try to salvage the last of her pride, be a little more in command of herself, show him that his proximity didn't affect her, smile casually and take her eyes off him. But it was easier said than done. Ron had seen her vulnerability more than anyone else, Hermione was sure he could still read her like an open book, was aware of her want. She could have fooled others- not him. And she knew that look, it reminded her of the stolen moments back during their seventh year. She had been way too naive to decipher what it meant back then. But she had found out during those precious few months when he was hers. There was a maddening pull below her navel. Intoxicated by his scent, her eyes dipped down to his lips.

Any moment now Ron would lose control and crash his lips onto hers...

Ron swore softly.

….

"Punishing me, aren't you?" he asked, shaking to stay in his senses, his fingers tingling where it held her. His voice sounded husky and he struggled to stop himself from losing control.

She looked away, bit down on her lower lip before she replied. "Why would I?"

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Then what are you doing? Are you trying to pay me back? I asked you not to, didn't I?"

"I know you did."

What did that mean? She didn't deny that she was replaying for his 'favour'. Hurt, he scooted back a little although still holding onto her wrists, lowering them away from his chest. "You don't have to."

"What if I want to?" she asked quietly.

He bit back from swearing aloud. Fuck... he wanted her, wanted her so bad that it hurt. But what made it harder was not his desire- the mindboggling need to bury himself inside her- he knew he could refrain himself as long as she didn't want him.

And that was the problem here- it seemed like she did.

The facts stated they were being civil just to keep up the act. And yet his foolish heart had started hoping, believing even. He looked down at her hands, eyes drawn to the stone that glinted on her finger and his heart gave a painful jolt - maybe he was just filling in for someone else.

The insane thundering of his heart slowed down to a staggered, painful one.

He took her small hands in his, rubbing the pad of his thumbs over the intricate lines. "Please don't make me want something I don't deserve, Hermione. Don't make me want something I know I can't have," he added as he continued to rub circles on her palm. Her hands were just as soft and small as he remembered. They still felt perfect in his own large, calloused ones. He met her gaze and she didn't look away. Hermione seemed to suck in a breath but did not comment, her eyes downcast, her face flushed.

"Am I filling in for him?" he asked. He must have gone insane, he guessed as her eyes snapped back to meet his, hurt clear in her gaze. What on earth was he expecting as her answer?!

"Is it so hard for you to believe me now?" she inquired as she pulled her hands away and collapsed on the couch next to him.

"I won't blame you if you do," he chuckled softly, sadly. "It's not your fault that he had a curse on him."

She glared at him but he didn't know what to make of it, or perhaps he was wary of expecting too much from his life.

...

"Punishing me, aren't you?" he had asked.

Words… they were just words and yet… She ought to have put on a few more layers. Her neck was exposed and the soft caress of his words felt as if his lips had found the sensitive skin he was well aware of. But then... what did he mean? Was it his way of saying that he didn't actually want her and was only affected by proximity? Did it appear that she was attempting to seduce him? She wasn't- was she?

She looked away, bit down on her trembling lower lip before she replied. "Why would I?"

There was a sharp intake of breath before he spoke. "Then what are you doing? Are you trying to pay me back? I asked you not to, didn't I?"

"I know you did." she managed as she gulped, hand still encased in his. Ron scooted away a smidge but didn't let go of her hands. She looked up once to find his gaze locked on her lips before he looked away. She did the same, cursing her stupid heart, worried sick that she'd do something rather stupid unless she moved away soon. But she couldn't. Ron Weasley had done it again… how fair was it that only he had the power to turn her brain into mush, she pondered quietly to herself.

"You don't have to."

"What if I want to?" she asked quietly before she could stop herself.

He met her eyes, those brilliant blue orbs that made her melt every time, and she quietly sucked in a breath. She'd never get over his eyes- not that she wanted to. It was such a paradox really- his features were rugged and hard but the gaze immensely soft, vulnerable even. She sighed to herself realising that she was doomed. She ought to have known her heart and body would betray her at his sight, how had she ever expected to win this? Life had come a full circle and she was back where she had begun- wanting Ron so bad that the ache was physically painful. It was so much worse now that she had him but didn't have him at all.

It did not help that there was something distinctly different about him. The younger version of him would have snogged her by now. But this new Ron seemed immensely in control over his emotions, even now he seemed to be the one deciding the pace. It was annoying and frustrating and yet mind-bogglingly attractive.

Ron brushed his thumb over the lines of her palm as he looked away, "Please don't make me want something I don't deserve, Hermione. Don't make me want something I know I can't have," he added as he continued to rub circles on her palm.

She was intoxicated, there was no other explanation. Her eyes found his lips and trailed down; his shirt was unbuttoned right up to his chest but the view was blocked by the inner-vest he wore underneath.

"Am I filling in for him?"

Wha-

The words hurt. Angry and helpless she looked away, berating herself under her breath, mortified to realise how bad she wanted him and how it might appear to him given their current predicament.

"Is it so hard for you to believe me now?" she inquired, barely holding back angry tears as she pulled her hands away and collapsed on the couch next to him.

"I won't blame you if you do," he chuckled softly, sadly. "It's not your fault that he had a curse on him."

While Hermione struggled to reply, Ron scooted closer while she continued to avert his gaze. His hand went up and tucked a curl behind her left ear, his fingers lingering in her hair for a moment longer before he pulled his hand away.

"This… this thing…" he gulped, "I kind of …" he trailed off abruptly.

"Kind of?" she asked without meaning to, voice a bare whisper.

"Makes me wanna believe it's true."

"I was beginning to think it is," she chuckled sadly.

He sighed and pushed himself back to rest against the couch. She didn't miss him swear softly as his back hit the couch but before she could comment, he spoke. "No matter what others think, this is an arrangement."

Hermione, on the verge of turning to face him, looked away and bit back an angry sob. Of course, what else had she expected? He was just doing a favour and being his normal courteous self. There was nothing more to their relationship. She was just fooling herself. She resisted a little when Ron's hand found hers but gave in eventually. His fingers entwined with hers and she let out a frustrated moan. Where on earth were they going with this?

"You don't want it to be true, do you?" she asked, trying her best but unable to hold back the hurt.

"I do." The sincerity of his voice made her pause and she looked back at him to find him watching her. He looked rather helpless. "I desperately want this to be true but-" he paused and looked at their entwined fingers before meeting her gaze. "-there are so many things I need to confess first." It seemed like he was struggling to find words. He exhaled, running his free hand through his hair, bit his lower lip and took to staring at the wall ahead. "I want to tell you everything and yet, I am bloody scared you will not want me once you know it all."

There was a new dread that had erupted at his words. "You wanted to tell me, didn't you?" she asked slowly.

"I did," he agreed, looking down to watch their hands again, rubbing circled on her knuckles. "I wish to tell you everything and I will," he exhaled and met her gaze. "Do you really want to be with me?" he asked, the longing in his words tore through her heart.

"Don't you?" she asked instead.

"There is nothing I want more," he accepted, still looking at their hands. She could have cried. He paused and exhaled. "You need to know, Hermione," he added. "Ask me and I will tell you everything."

"I… I am not sure I am ready," she stuttered. "I am scared."

"Me too," he accepted, meeting her gaze, taking her in like he hadn't seen her in ages. "Life gave me a second chance when I thought I had lost it all. But now I am scared out of my wits I'll lose it all again."

She wanted to know, and she knew he would tell her everything if she asked. But what if the truth was really as scary it seemed from his words? Could she not hold onto these blissful moments for a few more days? "I am not ready for the answers yet, Ron," she replied, at last, making up her mind. "but I … you are not filling in for anyone else."

She looked up slowly to find him watching her again. His gaze was telling enough and she could neither look away nor hide the growing blush. She was literally trembling when his large palm cupped her face and her eyes fluttered shut as he came closer.

Ron's lips touched her forehead in the softest of kisses. He pulled away and sighed softly, the pad of his thumb caressing her cheek.

"Let's take this slow," he murmured his face still close to hers, breath coming out in gasps. "I can't afford to mess it up again."

….

Annette sat quietly, not able to join the loud chattering of her friends. The Leaky was very crowded at this hour. It felt rather strange now- it was hard to believe that she had actually met Auror Ron Weasley. It felt like a dream of sorts and she felt quite detached from her surrounding and was drawn back to the conversation only when she heard a couple of familiar names.

"It's Mr Malfoy, I am sure, Skeeter's got it right this time."

Peter chugged an ample amount of his butterbeer and swiped the back of his hand over his lips, eager to provide more information to the bunch.

Annette rolled her eyes but did not bother to comment. The excitement of meeting the man of her dreams had dulled a little as lots of puzzle pieces fell into place.

"Anne, what do you think?" Liza prodded, "You've worked with her for over two years now."

"She knows it too," Peter interrupted. "Haven't we seen them together more times than we can count?" he asked of her.

"That doesn't prove anything. I'm sure it's Weasley," Dan commented from the sides. They were together before he left, weren't they."

"I don't know," Liza mused, "Seven years is a long time to wait for someone,"

Annette took a deep swig, still not bothering to reply.

"Wanna bet?" urged Peter. "I am sure it's Mr Malfoy."

"I'm in," stated Dan. "Ten Galleons, it's the Auror."

"Fifteen it's Mr Malfoy."

"I'll bet five it's Malfoy," added Liza. "Anne?"

She dropped back her mug at last and looked at her friends. "None of you have seen her ring, have you?" she said at last and Peter snorted and chugged from his mug.

"We all have. It was in the Prophet, remember?" he smirked.

"The actual one, Peet," she replied and looked at all other friends. "Neither have you guys seen Auror Weasley in person."

"I have," Dan raised his hand. "I was in first year when they were in their sixth and it was way before he was an Auror but it still counts, doesn't it?"

"It would if you can tell me the colour of his eyes."

Peter choked on his drink as he laughed and Liza patted him on his back looking back at her curiously. "Anne, you okay?"

"Suit yourself," she shrugged and picked back her mug but she knew she had piqued their curiosity.

"Explain."

She placed her mug down after taking a leisurely long sip. "Think about it," she replied, "Auror Weasley and Hermione Granger have known each other since they were kids. They were rumoured to be together post-war-"

"-and you told us they were no longer on talking terms when you mentioned him in front of your boss and she snapped back at you. That was mere weeks ago," interrupted Liza.

"Yes, but a lot changed since then, didn't it? Auror Weasley was wrongly framed- I am sure it brought them back together!" she provided.

"But Mr Malfoy got the case and not her. The Auror didn't even ask her to defend him!" Peter retorted.

"The first request came to her," Annette snapped.

"Exactly!" Peter replied, "And something made them change lawyers! Think Anne!"

"What makes more sense- her getting married to her best friend and famed Auror or a Death Eater turned lawyer?" she asked.

"A bloody fine lawyer he is!" Peter snapped back at her. "And if it was indeed Weasley they would have refuted Skeeter's claims right away, wouldn't they?"

She glared at him for a while before looking away. " Twenty from me on the Auror."

"Hah!" snorted Peter. "That's the stupidest bid ever."

"Shut up, Peet," interrupted Dan, "What was it about the ring and his eyes?" he inquired of Annette and she turned at him and smiled. "His eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue," she sighed. "And that's the exact shade of the stone on her ring."

…..

At a table behind them sat two men wearing long hooded cloaks. They turned at each other and one scribbled something on a paper, folded it and placed it inside an envelope he pulled out from his pocket, scribbling a name and address on it.

"It's high time we find out the truth. Mail this."

His companion looked worried. "You're sure we won't be tracked?"

"Use a masking spell and get a post office owl."

"But still… sending a threat mail to an Auror...that too him…" He shuddered.

"This will be the best breaking story if we find out. Will shut up the Skeeter woman once and for all. And trust me, he will react to a threat like this," insisted the first man.

His companion looked rather queasy but took it grudgingly and pocketed it.

…..

The Manor was as dark and eerie as ever. Draco looked at the closed door and glanced at his watch. It felt like a lifetime had passed since he had heard the life-changing truth from his mother. He sighed and collapsed on a high-back chair, hoping she'd arrive soon. He needed to get out of this place. His Portkey to Ireland was in an hour.

"Draco!" she gasped as she hurried inside, her elf closing the door shut behind her as always. "Is everything alright?" she asked upon reaching him and placing a hand on his cheek and sighed. "Have you been okay?"

"I've been better," he admitted before glancing once at the main door. "I'll not take long, Mother, don't want him to know I was here."

His mother looked at him curiously.

He sighed. "The Prophet is being rather nosy. I don't think they can trail him so they are following me. At this rate, they'll find out soon."

"And-?"

He grabbed his mother's hand in his own and exhaled tiredly. "They'll find out she is engaged to him and -" he looked up at the heavy door again, "- he won't be happy. I'm worried about his reaction."

Narcissa looked at him for a long time, "You don't need to worry, Draco. Your father is jailed at home and doesn't even have a wand. There is very little he can do."

"I don't trust him, mother," he insisted. "He will not be happy that his plan failed again. And he will know you told me. He might hurt you."

His mother smiled sadly. "I doubt it will come to that but I understand your concern. What do you want me to do?"

"Modify the articles in the paper before he finds them. He can't know that I broke off with her."

His mother sighed tiredly and nodded a little. "Are you doing alright?" she asked again and he let out a bitter laugh.

"I'm alive," he replied.

…..

"Let me heal your back at least?"

It had taken her a long time to get her heart to return to normalcy. Ron handed her the reheated tea and took a sip from his own. "Finish your tea first," he insisted and Hermione grabbed her cup in both her hands and took a long sip, hoping the warm liquid would help stop her hands from shaking so much. He seemed to be in more control than her.

They drank in silence. Ron was the first to finish his and stood up, Hermione glanced in his direction and looked away immediately when she found him unbuttoning his shirt. She continued to keep her eyes glued to her cup as the checkered shirt and then a black undershirt was dropped on the couch.

"Help?" he asked softly and she placed her cup back down, sucked in a deep breath to steady her senses before she turned. He was standing with his back towards her. The scratch dropped down almost till his lower back. It must have torn through his robes, she guessed as she lifted herself up and picked up the ointment mixture. She scooped an ample amount in the gauge and drabbed on the wound, tip-toeing to reach his upper back.

Ron sucked in his breath at her touch and she barely refrained from placing her palm flat against his skin.

"Will it be easier if I sit?" he asked softly.

"No," she replied hurriedly, blushing as her eyes found how the jeans hung low on his waist. She needed to get this done and Ron needed to get dressed soon if they were to stick to the plan of taking things slow, she thought , she finished her work, taking care to ensure the wound had sealed all the way through before picking up another vial. "You've bruised a fair bit too," she said quietly as she dabbed ointments on his bruises. There was a dark patch near his shoulder blade.

"Hit against a tree," he offered.

She halted when she was done with his back. On one hand, she craved for him to turn around but on the other, she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold herself back if he did. Her face felt rather hot anyway.

"I haven't hurt my chest," he said in a strange voice, "Are you done?"

"Yes, you can get dressed," she managed, looking away and busing herself with placing the potion vials back in the case while she felt him grabbing his clothes. The evening had transformed into something else and Hermione, caught in a whirlwind of emotions post his declaration, wasn't sure how to act anymore. She gasped quietly when he approached from behind and placed his large hands on her upper arms, rubbing them tenderly.

"Dinner? I'm starving. And you need to get some sleep too," he added.

She turned around at his words. "I - I have nothing more than cup noodles…" she admitted sheepishly.

He chuckled. "Cup noodles will do rather well."

….

Somewhere between setting up the kettle to boil and him freaking out about her minimally stocked pantry, they returned back to their normal self, bickering and laughing. And when she began to doze off while holding her cup of hot chocolate, Ron took away the cup from her hands and picked her up in his arms. He carried her back into her room and tucked her in carefully under the covers.

His heart was way too full and while a part of him still feared that this was a dream, there was still a battle to be won before they were actually together, they had crossed a fair distance and for once, he allowed himself to hope and breathe.

He took a last look at her sleeping form before walking out of her bedroom and closing the door behind him. Ensuring all the security wards were working and the Warming spell was cast again, he Disapparated.

...