Chapter Eight: To Find Happiness In Small Moments

"Try the blond hair again. I think it suits him more." Ginny smirked at Harry while Ron, chuckling to himself, changed Harry's hair back from a bright Weasley red to a blond as pale as a Malfoy.

Harry blew one of the long locks out his face. "Are you done yet?"

"I dunno," Ginny said with a mischievous smile. "I kind of want to see the brown again."

"Come on, Gin. We have to leave soon," Bill said. He leaned against the fireplace in his Gringotts robes while reading through his notes. They, meaning mostly Harry and Bill, had already discussed their plan for negotiating with the goblins, and he was the last one that needed to be disguised with a glamour. Before Bill had arrived, the four of them had been having a grand time messing about with glamour charms and changing each other's appearances. Ginny had been victim to their whims since she couldn't retaliate, but after Harry had given her Rita Skeeter-esque curls, he'd promised she could direct Ron and Hermione to do her worst to him. Ron thought he might be regretting that now.

"Fine," Ginny said with a heavy sigh, walking to Harry and sitting on his lap. She twirled a strand of pale hair through her fingers. "The blond is rather fetching."

Ron made a gagging sound and pointedly looked away. Hermione laughed at whatever Harry and Ginny's reaction was, the long blonde pigtails he had given her swinging around her face. Even with her altered appearance, her smile distracted him from everything else. That light simple happiness had been so rare, not just the last week but the entire last year. In fact, since the end of the war, he'd started seeing that smile more and more, and the sight tugged at his heart each time.

Really, everything she did brought as much warmth to his chest as the deluminator light had when it brought him back to her. Especially since yesterday. After she'd witnessed his horrific boggart, there wasn't any hiding how strong his feelings towards her were. Not that he'd been trying to hide them, but he still felt excruciatingly exposed. Every touch and every look between them sent a sweet jolt through his veins. It ignited both hesitance and desire.

There was no denying something had shifted between them. Even while working with Luna, Dean, and Seamus the previous day, he'd lost count of the number of times they'd caught each other's eye or accidentally on purpose bumped into each other. It had taken all his self-control not to leap across the chessboard and snog her last night, and he'd been so distracted that even his pieces had noticed. He hadn't even kissed her goodnight in case the temptation of her empty bedroom was too much.

"We should head off then," Bill said, pushing himself off of the wall. "The last thing we need is to be late."

They headed off in their temporary disguises. Harry's hair was long and covered most of his face to obscure his scar and glasses while Ginny, obviously inspired by Tonks, had gone with a pixie-cut. Bill had drawn the line at bubblegum pink, saying it was too conspicuous, so it was a simple brown that matched Ron's, who also had a comically large beard that rivalled Hagrid's thanks to Harry. Though Ron had thought the plaited pigtails and large square glasses would be comical, Hermione still brought butterflies to his stomach.

Merlin, he was pathetic.

They Apparated straight to the Leaky Cauldron, the pub quite abuzz for half-past eight in the morning, then headed into Diagon Alley. The usually busy streets were empty except for a few loiterers. Most of the shops had signs in the windows announcing temporary closers or limited hours. A rumble sounded from the far end of the street, and in the distance, Ron could see a dense crowd gathered outside Gringotts. He could sense their restlessness from there. They shouted in chants and bustled against each other in a constant wave.

"This way," Bill said, making a sudden turn down an alley and ignoring the crowd. Ron, Hermione, and Harry exchanged guilty looks before following in a rush. They'd really made a mess of things.

They went around to the back of the shops, and Bill pointed down the path. "Wheezes is just a bit down that way," Bill said to Ginny who'd already made plans with George to hang around the shop while the rest of them went to Gringotts.

"Good luck with the goblins. Try not to steal anything this time," she called over her shoulder as she jogged away.

Bill led Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the opposite direction and to a door that looked like it would lead to one of the flats upstairs. Instead, it opened to a staircase that went down. And down. And down.

"Are we walking straight into the vaults?" Ron asked, only half jokingly.

"Not exactly," Bill said. "Though they are connected. The goblins built this way back when the bank was first constructed. They still don't trust wizards all that much, so they created an escape route just in case something like… well, in case something like these exact circumstances happened."

"Glad at least someone was prepared," Harry muttered.

After what seemed like an endless amount of stairs, they finally reached the bottom and a set of rails that disappeared into a dimly lit tunnel. Something rattled inside, spiking Ron's uneasiness as he imagined a flood of coins streaming in to drown them. Instead, a Gringotts cart glided towards them, stopping right in front of Bill. "All aboard," he said, ushering them in before taking a seat at the front.

The cart zoomed across the floor and into the tunnels, the lighting growing dimmer and dimmer until they were in pitch blackness. Hermione fumbled for his hand, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

After a minute or two, the track began winding up and the torches on the wall became more frequent. The cart stopped abruptly at a platform, and the four of them jumped out. "Wait here," Bill instructed. "I'll see if they're ready for us. And, actually, now would be a good time to remove your glamour charms. You'll seem much more trustworthy looking like yourselves."

As Bill shut the door behind him, the click echoing down the tunnel, the three of them quickly countered all their hard work from this morning. Once they'd gotten themselves back to normal, and Harry had finished lamenting how disappointed Ginny would be that all her careful decision-making hadn't lasted long, they still had several more minutes of waiting. Ron shuffled his feet, feeling like a child again when he'd been too young to join his brothers on the cart ride through Gringotts. Knowing all those goblins were on the other side of the door made him as uneasy as they did when he'd been small, especially considering that the reason they were there was that they hadn't been killed like they were supposed to. He half expected a dragon to crawl out of the tunnel entrance and finish them off.

They stood in silence. Harry fiddled with the mokeskin bag that Hermione had put an expandable charm on to fit the sword, and Hermione chewed at her lip in thought, going over whatever plan she had to keep the goblins from getting another dragon. Or at least, Ron assumed that was what she was thinking about. He found himself staring as her eyes scrunched and her forehead furrowed, her head shaking back and forth every so often as she dismissed some thought.

Sooner than Ron would have thought, Bill returned and motioned them inside. They found themselves in the private chambers of Gringotts in a long corridor lined with iron doors. Goblins meandered in and out of rooms, the doors opening only at the bottom, as if it cut in half to be perfectly goblin-sized. They eyed the trio wearily as they passed, some more hostile than others. While Bill walked through without an issue, none of the goblins moved out of the way for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The three of them dodged out of the goblins' way, and when Ron accidentally bumped into one of them, the goblin glared and bared its teeth.

Bill took them into a nearby door, thank Merlin, and they entered a small cramped office. It took Ron a moment to notice the familiar faces in the photographs hang up on the wall and realized they were in Bill's office. Ron had at least expected to be in some sort of meeting space. "Is this where we're talking to the goblins?"

"Goblin," Bill corrected as he sat on the corner of his desk. "It'll only be Ragnok today. The rest of the goblins are more than happy to hold this grudge for the next hundred years, and Ragnok was the only volunteer."

"No pressure then," Harry muttered, sitting heavily in the armchair in the corner.

The lower half of the door swung open, and a disgruntled goblin shuffled in. "Your lot has really done it this time," he grumbled in place of a greeting. He walked right passed Bill and hopped into his desk chair.

"If not for my lot, most notably the three here, we'd all be in much worse circumstances."

"As you've said." The goblin, who Ron could only assume was Ragnok, tapped his claws against the desk. "So tell me, what do you have to offer?"

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged a look, but Harry recovered from Ragnok's abruptness first. "We've got the Sword of Gryffindor," he said bluntly.

Ragnok's tapping paused, his right ear twitching in interest. "Not that I can see."

Annoyance flashed across Harry's face, but he held his tongue. In response, he opened the moleskin bag and drew out the large sword, the ruby handle glinting in the dim light. Ragnok's eyes widened ever so slightly. With only a grunt as an excuse, Ragnok hopped off the chair and exited the room. Harry sighed. "I've messed it up, haven't I?"

"Not at all. I was hoping he'd do that." Bill grinned over at the sword while Harry stared at him unassuredly. "You've impressed him enough to warrant bringing in the head goblin. He's the one with the authority to make a decision about reopening the bank."

Harry nodded but continued twisting the sword around his hands until the door opened again. Ragnok hurried in ahead of an ancient-looking goblin who limped in on a cane. His skin was so wrinkled, Ron wasn't exactly sure which fold hid his eyes. Instead of heading towards the chair, the head goblin walked right to Harry and took the sword. Harry watched the goblin examine the sword with suspicion, his hand hovering and ready to grab it back at any moment.

After a few moments, the head goblin nodded his head and returned the sword to Harry. "It has been many generations since this sword was taken from goblin hands. Why return it now?"

Harry sat up straighter in his chair. "I made a promise to Griphook that if he helped us, he could have the sword."

"Help you break into a high-security vault, steal another magical artefact, and escape on the back of our dragon."

"Just the first two actually," Harry said, though the sentiment didn't seem to impress the head goblin. Actually, though Ron hadn't thought it possible, the wrinkles at the side of the goblin's mouth deepened. "But without him, Voldemort would still be alive. His memory should be honoured."

"Thieves are not to be honoured," the head goblin grumbled.

"Then take the sword as a sign of goodwill," Bill said, stepping closer and intervening for the first time. "A gift and a promise that there won't be any more break-in attempts from us."

"I was never worried about you, Mr Weasley."

Harry glared at the goblin, his patience waning. "It's not from Bill; it's from us."

"From all of us," Hermione corrected. "Harry, Ron, and myself. We're sorry for the damage we caused to the building and for breaking goblins' trust in wizards and witches. We promise we only did what we had to for the good of the entire magical community, and we worked alone. None of the people outside had anything to do with it. There's no reason that Gringotts bank should not be reopened for them."

All of them tensed as they waited for the head goblin's reaction to Hermione's impassioned speech. The goblin's beady eyes moved from Hermione to Harry to Ron with the same discerning look he'd used on the sword. Ron stood up straight, hoping to look as trustworthy as possible.

"The damages to our vault system will be expensive to repair…" His eyes glinted as his gaze returned to Harry.

"I can pay for the damages," Harry said. "Do we have a deal? We give you the sword, and you reopen the bank, alright?"

"Hmmm," the goblin hummed, lifting one of his hands away from the sword. Ron's stomach dropped, thinking he was about to hand the sword back to Harry, but then the head goblin held out his gnarled hand. "Deal."

Harry shook his hand curtly, though his furrowed eyebrows finally relaxed. The knot in Ron's stomach also untangled, and he even managed to return the head goblin's nod as he passed him. "Ragnok," he said over his shoulder when he reached the door, "I trust you will see to discussing the process of vault bands with our new friends. And don't forget about the dragon."

The door slammed shut behind the head goblin before any of them could protest.

"Vault bands?" Ron asked Bill at the same time Hermione turned on Ragnok with a fire in her eyes and asked, "What about the dragon?"

"Let's not all lose our heads at once," Bill said, though the smidgeon of relief that had been on his face earlier was long gone. "There is a rule that anyone who attempts to steal from a vault will no longer be allowed to have one, but Ragnok, these three single-handedly saved the Wizarding World from complete destruction. We can't band them from owning a vault."

"Do you know why Gringotts is one of the most secure buildings in all the world?" Ragnok asked. "It's because we don't make exceptions."

"That's not fair," Ron said. "We've just given you the bloody Sword of Gryffindor! That more than makes up for us breaking in."

Ragnok shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that you did break-in."

"Surely you can pull some strings," Bill said. "Or at least discuss this with the head."

"You've already convinced him to reopen the bank," Ragnok said. "Take the win, Bill. He's not exactly a giving soul."

"Where the hell are we supposed to keep our money, then?" Ron asked, his mind already spinning. In a few days, he'd be starting his Auror training, a real job with a real salary. He couldn't just keep all those coins in his pocket. "And what about the gold that's in Harry's vault right now? And the currency exchange? You can't ban Hermione from exchanging her Muggle money here."

"We'll sort all that out," Bill said. He seemed to have given up on fighting the bans now and shifted into 'cleaning up the pieces' mode. "I'll take care of any money exchanges for Hermione, and the contents of Harry's vault will be returned to him today, yes?"

Ragnok nodded, though he added, "Minus the cost of the repairs he promised to pay for."

Harry stood from his chair, his shoulders rigid and hands in fists. "Should I be expecting nothing then?"

"Only if the funds in your vault are not enough to cover the damage," Ragnok said in a bored, business-like tone. "We already have a general estimate we will start with. The rest is yours."

A cold sweat broke out over Ron's skin. Maybe not keeping their money at Gringott's wasn't such a horrible thing after all. Harry didn't even have control over his own family's fortune, not to mention that the entire wizarding world was on the verge of ruin because the bank wouldn't open its doors. The goblins could have one pissy day and completely destroy wizardkind.

Bill put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him back from Ragnok. "I'll make sure you get your gold," he said quietly before approaching the goblin. "Now about this dragon."

"Yes, acquiring a new one will not be easy–"

"You can't have another dragon!" Hermione burst out, having held it in for the past few minutes. Ron was surprised she'd been able to last that long. "The conditions that creature was kept in were completely inhumane, not to mention that keeping a dragon in Britain is illegal unless–"

"Actually," Bill said loudly, cutting Hermione off, "I have a solution that will avoid needing to discuss the legalities of dragons."

"Bill, the dragon is non-negotiable–"

"Hear me out." Bill hurried to his desk before either Ragnok or Hermione could argue again. He pulled a leatherbound notebook from the top drawer and flipped over to a page that he showed to Ragnok. "I've been breaking curses for years, and with the ancient ruins I've learned along with goblin magic and artistry, creating this will take no time at all."

Ragnok pursed his lips as he took in whatever it was Bill had drawn up. "And how is this better than a dragon?"

"No training, no feeding, and no old age. None of the annoyances of a living creature."

"Huh," Ragnok said, beginning to look a bit impressed. Ron's curiosity urged his feet forward, and he craned his neck to try to get a peek at Bill's journal. Ragnok's eyes darted up to him with a steely glare. "And who has seen these designs?"

"My eyes only," Bill said, shooting Ron a warning look.

Before Ron could even take the hint and settle back against the wall, Ragnok snapped the notebook shut and tucked it under his arm. "Very well," he said, eyes shifting around the room as if he expected one of them to make a grab for the book. "I'll sort out the Potter vault, and you can be on your way."

"I'll assist," Bill said, following Ragnok closely out the door. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes. Stay here," he instructed, leaving Ron, Harry, and Hermione in a state of bewilderment.

Harry sank back into the armchair with a heavy sigh. "Better enjoy our last minutes here. Doesn't look like we'll be back."

"At least we rode out on a dragon," Ron said, hopping up on top of Bill's desk. He drummed his fingers along the edge, trying to fend off his worrying thoughts. It wasn't like he had any money to put in a vault at the moment and, after treating Harry's fortune like a hostage, he didn't even know if he trusted the goblins to keep anything safe anymore. Still, what else was he supposed to do? Every wizard and witch he knew used Gringotts. It's not like he could keep his sickles and knuts in a muggle bank.

Hermione chewed on her lip with a solemn look on her face. Ron bumped her leg with his foot and said, "Thought you would be happy at least. Seems like Bill took care of the dragon problem."

"Yes…" she said, and Ron waited for her to say more and explain why she didn't seem satisfied. Instead, all three of them remained quiet and in their own thoughts as they waited for Bill to come back.

Left inside his mind, Ron quickly surmised Hermione's disappointed. She probably had an entire impassioned speech planned, one that would convince any goblin they didn't need a dragon in their vaults, and Bill had unknowingly took that opportunity away from her. He knew that feeling well. Maybe he'd ask her about it later once they were home again. He'd ask now, but honestly, even seeing her biting at her bottom lip was sending him flashbacks of their snog at Hogwarts the previous day. If she started going on about her brilliant plan, he'd have to kiss her. And having this desk he could so easily lift her up on was much too tempting.

Ron jumped down from his perch and paced the length of the office. Merlin, even having Harry in the room did nothing to quell his thoughts. There really was something wrong with him. Was this what being in love was like all the time?

Now that thought did the trick. He stopped in his tracks in a cold sweat, moving again only to sit in Bill's desk chair before he fainted it. That word–the big one that started with 'l'–had popped into his mind so easily but then wedged itself in there seemingly permanently. Ron hadn't had the time to overthink their relationship much in the last two week and, shit, it had only been two weeks. It was too soon, right? It had to be. After being friends for seven years, he knew he loved her, but did he love her? Did she love him? Really, that was the more important question.

"Ron?" Hermione had turned her head towards him and was giving him a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

Yeah, alright, he couldn't deny that she at least cared about him. He could take that for now. "Yeah… just don't like this waiting and doing nothing. Makes me anxious."

"Glad I'm not the only one," Harry said, standing from his chair and joining Ron and Hermione at Bill's desk. He stared down at a quill sitting on the edge, contemplating its dark plumage for a moment. "Do you think I'll have any gold left after today?"

"Bill will take care of it," Ron said, relieved to be focusing on something else. "And even if they take it all, we'll be making more than a fair wage as Aurors soon enough."

Hermione's eyes flashed daggers at him for only a second before she turned her gaze down with a huff. Her reaction, though it shouldn't have surprised him, startled him. He'd been expecting some sort of words of reassurance from her, but it seemed that she was still resentful of their joining the Aurors. He wasn't sure if things would blow over after their meeting on Friday, or if it would only fan the flames more.

Luckily, they didn't have to sit in that tension for more than a few minutes before Bill returned, alone this time. "I did what I could," he said, passing along a small satchel that wouldn't have been able to fit even an eighth of the gold Ron knew to have been in Harry's vault. There was always the possibility of an expanding charm, but no one asked. Instead, they made their way out of the bank as quick as they could. They went back the way they came, leaving Bill behind to deal with the crowd about to pour into the soon-to-be unlocked doors.

"Should we head over Wheezes then?" Ron said as they stepped back into the late morning light. Even in the shade, it felt blinding after being down in the tunnels again.

"Actually," Hermione said, "I was thinking of going to Ollivander's while we're here."

"Yeah, of course." Ron couldn't believe he'd made it all the way to Diagon Alley with her and forgotten to pester her about getting a new wand. He had not been quite as adamant since giving her Wormtail's old wand, but he knew she felt about as comfortable using it as he did. "Everyone'll be so distracted by Gringotts reopening, we might go completely unnoticed."

Hermione nodded. "We still shouldn't stay too long. Reporters could turn up at any moment."

"I'll go find Ginny and see you at the joke shop," Harry said, already taking a few steps backwards towards Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. "We can leave from there."

"Are you sure you should be going alone?" The fear shrilled Hermione's voice, but Ron was inclined to agree with her.

"I'll be fine. I've got this." Harry opened up his mokeskin pouch and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. Well, not just his; it was the Invisibility Cloak. Ron doubted he'd be able to ever look at it the same way again.

Before either he or Hermione could find an objection, Harry said, "I'll see you over there," and swung the cloak around himself. Instantly, there was nothing in front of them except for the worn cobble road.

Ron and Hermione stood watching the spot where Harry had disappeared for a few moments before Hermione said, "We can't even watch to make sure he gets there alright."

"Probably what he wanted, the prat." Ron shook his head, trying to dispel all the negative thoughts floating into his mind. Harry would be fine. He could walk a block down the street on his own without getting himself killed. Not that Ron trusted Harry to keep himself alive anymore. But they were in Diagon Alley. If the Death Eaters were lying low, they wouldn't be in such a populated place. Unless… no, no, he had to stop thinking about the worst-case scenario.

He turned toward Hermione, noticed the concerned knot between her eyebrows, and took her hand. The wrinkles on her brow smoothed as she looked up at him. That's the kind of moment he should be focused on. "To Ollivander's then?"

They stuck to the back street as they walked to the southern half of Diagon Alley, hearing the commotion from the main street as news of Gringotts spread. The bustling about tapered out as they walked, the whole place feeling deserted by the time they ventured onto the main road to reach the wand shop.

As Ron reached out a hand to open the door, Hermione tugged back on his arm to stop him. "Do you…" she started, then cringed before trying again. "Do you mind if I go in alone?"

"Why?" Shit, he shouldn't have asked. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear her say she'd rather be alone than with him or didn't trust him or needed space. Nothing like that. For fuck's sake, he'd just realized he loved her.

"It's nothing to do with you," she said, quick and blunt. "I… I don't think I can explain it properly. But that last time I was here choosing a wand, my parents were with me."

Before she could try to explain herself more, Ron cut her off. "Right, yeah, that's fine."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek before disappearing into the shop. He stood off to the side in front of the single window, keeping his eyes on the empty road. Honestly, he wished there was something there that could distract him from his anxious thoughts.

Despite saying it was fine, Ron wasn't sure if it was. He hadn't wanted to argue with her about her parents, but he didn't understand her reasoning at all. Her parents weren't dead. She'd get to make more memories with them. Hell, she could bring them to Diagon Alley any time she wanted. Well, as soon as she fetched them from Australia and restored their memories.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the window. Her parents were just another thing they didn't really talk about. It made sense that she wanted to wait, but if he didn't know any better, he'd say she was putting it off, which made absolutely no sense. But that wasn't his burden to worry about. He definitely wasn't anxious about whether or not Hermione wanted him to go with her to Australia or how the travels would affect his Auror training. And he definitely wasn't still sore about Hermione deciding not to take the Auror training too. Being apart so much was not going to completely ruin their relationship.

Things weren't that bad between them, right? Their snog yesterday certainly didn't feel like they were ending things any time soon. And she'd already said she wanted Ron to come with her when she went to Australia. Auror training wasn't going to change that… right?

Merlin, he was going absolutely mad. He'd thought it had been bad at sixteen, trying to decipher whether she even fancied him. Back then, he never would have guessed how much more stressful it would be trying to decipher her feelings while dating her. Maybe he just sucked at relationships. It's not like he had any idea what he'd been doing during his fling with Lavender or even that one awkward date he'd had with Padma at the Yule Ball. Maybe he was problem. Maybe Hermione would be better off with someone else.

Ron slumped against the window, lazily gazing out on the empty road. What he wouldn't give for a Death Eater to show up right now. A good life-or-death duel would really clear his head. Then Hermione would come out right as he stunned the Death Eater, at the most impressive moment. And she'd hug him and ask if he was alright and maybe heal him since, Ron had to be honest, he'd never get out completely unscathed. But she'd still be proud of him. And she'd see that he could be a good Auror, that he wouldn't get himself killed. She wouldn't be worried or scared or anything like that anymore. Just proud.

The wand shop door swung open, snapping Ron out of his fantasy. Hermione held a simple black wand box, smiling each time her eyes drifted down to it.

"Ready, then?" he asked as he straightened up.

They made their way down the back roads again, not saying much. He wanted to ask about what kind of wand she picked out, but he didn't want to tread on any nerves. The uneasiness he felt disappeared as soon as Hermione took his hand, though. For all the times he feared her slipping away, there were these moments that felt so easy and natural too. Her fingers fit perfectly in between his, and their footsteps fell into the same rhythm. Why couldn't it always be like that?

"I'm sorry I made you wait outside," Hermione said, "but thank you for not questioning it."

"Oh, yeah… uh, you're welcome." Ron wasn't sure how to respond. She was giving him a smile of appreciation, and it almost felt like he'd done something right. Had Ron Weasley actually done something right?

"It's an acacia," Hermione explained, nodding towards the wand box.

"Those are rare, aren't they?"

"They aren't the most common." The tiniest hint of smugness coated her words. "Ollivander said they're very loyal and gentle wands."

"Sounds like exactly what you could use right now," Ron said

"Yes." Hermione glanced at him with a warm, content look then leaned her head against his arm. Thank Merlin he'd managed to say the right thing again, even if he wasn't sure why his comment had made her so happy with him. He hadn't even been thinking about his words until they were out. Maybe he wasn't such a shit boyfriend after all.

As they got closer to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a cacophony of voices floated towards them over the shops from the main street. The noise grew louder with their steps, which slowed down in caution the closer they got. There weren't any alleys between the shops here, the closet one several shops behind them, so they couldn't have a peek around to find out what the commotion was about.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of panic, both of their minds going to the same worst-case scenario. At the same time, they took off running. Hermione flung open her wand box, dropping it on the ground as she grabbed her new wand. Ron's long legs pulled him in front, and he spotted a pair of people jogging towards them first. He skidded to a stop, putting out his arm to stop Hermione.

"Who is it?" she asked in a breathy voice.

"I think…." Ron said, squinting at the figures to make them come clear. "I think it's Harry and Ginny."

Both of them immediately lowered their wands but hurried forward to meet their friends. "What's going on?" Ron asked as soon as they stopped in front of each other.

"Bloody reporters, that's what," Ginny said, her eyes blazing. "They appeared out of nowhere and swarmed the shop! Bunch of leeches and vultures, the lot of them."

Ron sighed in relief as he pocketed his wand. "We can't take you anywhere, can we?" he teased, slapping Harry's arm.

Harry didn't seem in the mood for a joke, though. His face darkened with guilt as he shrugged and said half-heartedly, "Better than Death Eaters, I guess."

"It's still completely ridiculous," Ginny interrupted. "We can't even visit our own brother's shop without someone tipping them off. If Harry wanted to talk to them, he'd have done it already. The lack of respect, and for the Boy Who Lived, no less! I have some choice words for them if they're desperate enough for a comment."

Ginny's anger still blazed strong as they returned to the Burrow, and she declared a need to blow off some steam with a game of Quidditch. Despite Hermione's protests, Ginny dragged her into a team against the boys and set off for the orchard clearing. It was a perfect day for flying, warm but not too hot or sunny. When Ron lifted into the air, he felt as if he were leaving all his problems on the ground. His mind couldn't focus on much else but defending their makeshift hoop from Ginny's vengeful throws. His first catch nearly knocked him from his broom, but damn it felt good. It felt… normal.

The game disintegrated into brother versus sister as Harry didn't have the heart to continue scoring against Hermione's feeble Keeping attempts. Ron would throw him the Quaffle, and he'd play keep away from Ginny as long as he could. Despite his talents as a Seeker, Ginny made him look like an amateur as a Chaser. With her frustrations of the day fueling her, Ron doubted Gwenog Jones could match her.

With the late afternoon sun blazing over the trees and the girls' score doubling the boys', they decided to call the game. Ginny's anger had morphed into ecstatics, and she practically skipped all the way back home. She volunteered herself and Harry to return the brooms to the shed, and Ron severely wished he hadn't noticed the cheeky wink she'd given Harry.

Damp with sweat, Ron immediately headed for a shower, the warm water warding off the shadows trying to creep back into his brain. It had been a good day. They'd gotten Gringotts reopened, Hermione bought a new wand, and he'd enjoyed a healthy game of Quidditch. He even found his dad preparing an early dinner when he returned downstairs. A month ago, Ron never would have even hoped for a day as good as this.

Bill and Fleur joined them for dinner, their company drawing Ron's mom out of her room. Though quiet, she wasn't crying this time, which seemed like a win. Bill thanked Harry again for giving up the Sword of Gryffindor and offered to help him clear out Grimmauld Place of any curses as repayment. They made plans to go that Thursday. Despite all of the Weasleys' reassurances, Harry was anxious to have a place of his own. Ron understood, though. A part of him wanted to leave the Burrow behind as quickly as possible too. After all they'd been through, returning to his bright orange bedroom in the attic felt like trying to go back in time. It had been nice at first, but it no longer felt like him. He was ready to move on.

His mom turned in early, but the rest of them sat around for hours chatting. Dad filled them in on everything happening in the Ministry, and Bill talked more about Diagon Alley and how the surprise grand reopening of Gringotts had gone. Fleur, who had just come back from visiting her family in France, gave them the international news. Travel bans were lifted, and the rest of Europe seemed to be simply relieved that Britain had sorted itself out.

By ten o'clock, yawns interrupted their conversation until Dad announced they should all head to bed. No one protested as they said farewell to Bill and Fleur and headed upstairs to their prospective rooms. Ron was already starting to feel sore from the Quidditch game, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as he climbed into bed.

It felt like he'd only been asleep five minutes when panic gripped his chest and he sat up with a gasp. A cold sweat broke out over his skin, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He grabbed his wand and cast Lumos, looking around the room for whatever had woken him up. It had to have been something. He leaned out his arm, dispersing the shadows from every corner, but there was nothing there. His room was empty.

He fell against his headboard, his hands still shaking as he rested them against his knees. The panic ebbed away into swirling anxiety, and the reasonable side of his mind fought against it. This wasn't the first time he'd been woken up in the middle of the night by nothing. The last two times, he'd gotten out of bed to check on everyone, and they'd all been sound asleep. All the hands on the Weasley clock had pointed home. They would be again. He didn't need to go check. He should just go back to sleep, and he'd see them in the morning.

Damnit. All the self-convincing in the world couldn't have eased the fear. Ron flung off his blankets, angry at himself for giving in. But what if something had happened? What if this was the one time where his sleeping ears had heard a sound outside, and he'd forever regret ignoring it? He had to check; he just had to.

Not even bothering to grab his dressing robe, Ron cast away the light of his wand and snuck down the stairs in complete darkness. He knew every creaky stair and loose floorboard and avoided them easily. Harry's room was first, and Ron only had to lean his ear against the door to hear Harry's deep breathing. He'd never slept so soundly in all the years he and Ron had shared a dorm room, but since the end of the battle, Harry slept like the dead. The noisy dead. His heavy breaths were louder than Neville's snoring.

Satisfied, Ron moved on to Hermione. Of course, she was the most difficult. He couldn't hear her through the door or simply check the family clock to make sure she was alright. Instead, he hoped and prayed she was asleep before cracking open the door. Merlin, if she ever caught him sneaking into her bedroom at a quarter past midnight, she'd kill him, or think he was a complete creep, or both.

His eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to make out the fuzzy shape of her, fast asleep and safe. The heaviness in his heart melted into a sigh of relief. Her head moved from one side to the other against her pillow, and Ron held his breath until she stilled again. As quickly but also quietly as he could, he closed the door again and backed away down the stairs.

When he reached the living room, Ron lit the candles on the mantelpiece and faced the family clock. As he'd expected, every single little golden hand pointed at home. The relief fell heavy on his shoulders, dragging him down to the sofa. He twirled his wand in his fingers as he stared at the clock, waiting for one of the hands to move. It took several minutes of staring down his family before he truly felt that they were all actually safe. Just like last time, and the time before that, everyone was okay.

He should have gone back to bed at this point, but the fear had chased away his drowsiness. What he wouldn't give to have a rematch against Ginny feeling this alert and awake. He'd crush her. He chuckled to himself as he stared up at the clock, losing track of time as he relished in the calm it brought him.

"Ron?"

He jumped up from the sofa at Hermione's voice, turning to see her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Her dressing robe was tied tight around her, and she clutched a book to her chest. Even in the dim light, her skin looked pale and her stance unsteady. Another nightmare, he assumed.

"Alright?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he approached, arms reaching out for her. She gave a slow, unconvincing nod but leaned into him, nuzzling her face into his chest. Her arm snaked out from between them to grab the back of his shirt. He squeezed her close and kissed her hair before leaning his cheek on top of her head. "See, you're alright."

Hermione sighed deeply before pulling back. "I couldn't stay in that room any longer. I thought maybe if I sat down here and read for a bit, I'd feel tired again." Her eyes finally lifted up to meet his. "What were you doing down here?"

"Oh," Ron said, forgetting he should have expected that question. "It's… it's kind of strange to explain." She cautiously joined him on the sofa as he took her over to it. "Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night with this feeling that something's gone wrong. I'm so worried and… and scared, and I can't get back to sleep until I know that everyone–you and Harry and my family, everyone–is safe and… alive." He motioned toward the family clock. "So coming down here helps."

"Hmmm." Hermione hummed her understanding as she stared up at the clock as well. She was quiet in thought for a minute, before saying, "See, that's what I need to find."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I don't have anything to do or look at to calm that restlessness. The Calming Draught is the only thing that's helped so far, but I have to find something else, something that will be as reassuring as the clock is for you."

"Right," Ron said, trying to find some way to be helpful. "Like what?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," she snapped, her eyes flashing to his and softening with guilt a second later. She sighed. "But nothing that I've tried works."

"Well… what have you tried?"

Hermione sat up a little straighter, putting on the same voice she did when giving a particularly long and completed answer to a question in class. "I tried reading in bed at first to distract myself, but I found it hard to concentrate and couldn't get through more than a page or two. I've opened the window for white noise but that only made the paranoia worse. I tried keeping the light on, but then I can't get to sleep at all. I put both a cooling and warming charm on my blanket, but the cold made it impossible to fall asleep and the warmth only made the nightmares worse. The Calming Draught is the only thing that's been decently successful."

"But even that wears off after a few hours," Ron said, remembering their nap from a week ago and the panic she had woken up in when the potion had faded.

"Not the last time I took it." Hermione bit her lip, hesitant to go on. Ron perked up and stared at her but bit back his reprimand at the same time. "I mean, of course, it must have worn off, but I managed to stay asleep afterwards. So it's getting better," she added quickly before Ron could add anything else. "If I can just find a way to get to sleep, real sleep, not just light, I'll be okay. The nightmares are much less frequent."

"But you had one tonight."

She sighed, falling back into the sofa cushions. "I didn't say they'd disappeared, just that they're better."

"And you had one last night too." Ron watched as she stiffened before glancing over at him. "Harry told me this morning."

Hermione huffed. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but believe me, they're getting better."

"Are they? Or are you just getting used to them?"

Hermione clutched her book to her stomach as she looked away from him. Her lip trembled as she said, "I don't know what else you want me to do."

Ron sighed, frustrated with himself for snapping at her. He reached out a hand to brush her shoulder. "I don't want you to do anything except get better."

"And I'm trying." She brushed off his hand and slammed the book into her lap. "Whether you believe me or not, it is getting better, and I'm sorry that I can't just snap my fingers and make everything okay again. It's not like going back to Gringotts helped anything, either. The last time I was in that place, I was pretending to be her." Her voice caught in her throat, and she paused to swallow back the tears that had sprung into her eyes. "Every time I think things are starting to go back to normal, something else comes up and sends me right back to that state I was in at Shell Cottage. So maybe getting used to it is the only thing I can do."

Nothing could have made Ron feel more stupid or helpless in that moment. "Don't say that," he said, hoping against everything she didn't truly believe that. Or that it was true.

Hermione glanced at him but didn't say anything more. He needed to do something. Change the subject? No. All he could think about when looking at her was the thoughts that had been circling in his head earlier. Now did not seem the best time to say, "I love you." Pushing that aside, his thoughts underneath weren't much better. His mind drifted to when she had fallen asleep in his arms… and when she'd woken up. If only he could kiss her like that again and make all of the nightmares go away, but things would never be that simple.

"We can stay down here a while," he said, finally settling on something. "You can read for a bit. See if that helps."

"You don't have to stay up with me. One of us should get some sleep tonight."

Ron shrugged. "I'm not really that tired right now. Honest."

She chewed her lip, probably debating on whether or not he was bluffing to keep an eye on her. He had to admit, he was a little. If he went back up to bed now, he'd have no trouble getting to sleep. Well, maybe a small bit of trouble, but not because of fear or nightmares. Being alone with Hermione had reignited his grappling with the idea of love.

Instead of arguing, thankfully, Hermione settled herself on the sofa, turning to rest her back against the armrest and curl her knees up in front of her. This was a familiar sight, and it brought a warmth of nostalgia to Ron's chest. From the Gryffindor common room to the Burrow in its previous state to Grimmauld Place and even to the tent, Ron would never tire of seeing Hermione curled up with a book.

His resistance broke. Without thinking, he swept an arm behind her ankles and pulled her legs across his lap. She smiled at him, settling down deeper and bending her knees just enough to rest her heavy book against them. He'd be lying if he didn't admit how aware he was of her bum pressed against his thigh. Doing his gentlemanly best, he draped the arm closest to her over the back of the sofa and fiddled with the end of her pyjama bottoms with his other hand.

As Hermione turned a page, his fingers drifted. They rubbed against the bare skin above her socks then travelled up. She hummed her appreciation as he lazily massaged her calf. Though not the most exciting body part to have in his hand, there was still something so intimate in the way his fingers rubbed and squeezed her muscle.

Ron's mind relaxed into a blank daze, concentrating only on the way her toes curled and uncurled beneath the thick fabric of her socks. He didn't notice the sound of Hermione's turning pages disappearing until her leg suddenly fell heavy in his hand. He looked over to see her head lolled to the side, eyes closed, and her book slipping out of her hands. Careful not to disturb her, he gently lifted the book away and set it on the coffee table. Hermione shifted in her sleep, stretching out her legs and tucking her arms around her middle.

Well, it seemed like Ron was stuck on the sofa for the night. Trying to get into a somewhat comfortable position, Ron lifted his feet up on the coffee table and leaned his head back into the cushions. His neck would not be thanking him in the morning, but as he glanced down at Hermione, he determined it worth it.

He took the opportunity to stare, taking in every detail about her: the steadiness of her breaths, the curve of her nose, the curl of her eyelashes, the way her hand trembled ever so slightly in her sleep. He took it, smiling as her fingers immediately curled around his.

There was no questioning whether or not he loved her. He did. In so many ways. He loved her as a person and he loved her as a friend and he loved her in this way too. His chest ached with how desperately, hopelessly in love with her he was. Why couldn't that be enough to make the pain of the past disappear forever?


Author's Note: Wow, glad you made it through all that! This was a bit of a monster of a chapter BUT it felt really important that this ending scene be from Ron's POV. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter despite its length! I am hard at work on chapter nine, which may be a similar length to this one and full of more angst and fluff. I'm finally getting to write the scenes that inspired this story, such as the final scene of this chapter and the boggart scene in the last, so I'm extremely excited to share these last few chapters with you. As always, thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and reviewed this story so far. You are the Tiger King to my quarantine. :) Hope everyone is staying safe and I'll see you in the next chapter!