Disclaimer: Consider the following disclaimed.

A warm breeze blew through the air, ruffling her bushy hair, and drying her tear-streaked cheeks. As she turned to look at him, Ron stepped out of the shadows created by the trees on the lake's bank. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets bashfully, as he had been watching her for some time without her knowledge and was feeling rather guilty. She had been crying, he noted. Her puffy eyes were a clear indication of that, and he didn't have to ask why. His best friend in the whole world was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

The battle had raged throughout the wizarding world, slowly leaking into muggle areas, distracting the Order and Ministry from their original mission. Voldemort made sure they were spread thin, using the majority of their time casting memory charms so as to not alarm the muggles and prevent widespread panic they could not control. This enabled Voldemort's Death Eaters to easily locate and corner busy, stressed wizards. This was how their ranks were thinned. This was how they lost many good people. It was how Remus Lupin died.

Lupin had been helping Tonks clean up after an attack in a busy London mall. Members of the Order had paired off after they had won and captured several of the Death Eaters. While they had tried to blend into the background, casting mass memory charms quietly and as inconspicuously as they could, they were again attacked by what appeared to be backups. It had all been a ploy. They had been led into a false sense of security, and they paid dearly for it. Tonks was still in St. Mungo's, and it was unlikely she would ever wake up, and Lupin...

Lupin's death had been the last straw for Harry. He had suffered the loss of his godfather two years previous, and now he had lost a close friend. A man who had become like a father to him, and had supported him whole- heartedly through the last few years. After their mutual loss of Sirius, Harry had turned to Lupin for comfort and strength. Lupin, in turn, took to training Harry further during the summers, increasing his knowledge of spells and improving their strength, with special permission from the Ministry. During their extra time together, they grew close, and he was the only adult to whom he ever spoke of his fears and hopes.

Ron shook out of his trance as he heard Hermione softly call his name to get his attention. Looking back at her, his heart broke. It was just he two of them now. There was no future with Harry. They wouldn't wake up early on a Saturday and head outside for a quick game of one-on-one quidditch. The three of them wouldn't all move to London together like they had planned, while Harry trained to be an Auror, Hermione worked for the Ministry in an endeavour to promote SPEW and he...probably ended up working at his brothers' joke shop for all he knew.

She stepped tentatively toward him, reaching out a hand and softly grasped his. He looked down at their conjoined hands and was surprised to see a drop fall, landing gently on her palm. Reaching up with his free hand he touched his face. It was wet. Since Harry had...since it had happened, he hadn't shed a tear. Looking back, Ron realized he had been in denial. He had still been clinging to the hope that everyone had gotten it wrong. Harry wasn't dead; he was just late showing up. Everyone would see. He would walk into the Great Hall or the common room at any minute with that huge grin and once again he would get all the attention. And for once, Ron wouldn't care.

Hermione sighed softly, and gently wiped his tears with her free hand and let it linger on his cheek. She looked into his swimming brown eyes that, she knew, mirrored her own pain.

"Hermione..." Ron breathed, and releasing her hand, pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around her waist so she was fully pressed against him. He turned his head into her hair and breathed deeply, her smell comforting. It was something he knew, something that was real, and, he thought with inappropriate amusement, not completely unpleasant.

"I miss him, Hermione." He whispered softly into her hair, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yeah," she replied simply tightening her hold around his neck.

The warm June breeze blew around them, rustling the trees as they stood in silence, reveling in the closeness of the other. Hermione slowly drew away, and Ron acknowledged the familiar reluctance of letting her.

"We should probably get back," Hermione whispered, her gaze wandering back up towards the castle.

"Probably..."

"We could always just stay out here, for a little while, though. Just for a while." Ron heard the slight pleading in her voice, and agreed; he wasn't really in the mood to face anyone else either. Every time he caught the eye of one of his classmates, they would instantly be filled with sympathy and pity, and it was hardly comforting. He needed the presence of someone who really knew what he was going through, and right now, the only people whose pain was even comparable to his own were Hermione and Ginny.

He winced slightly at the thought of his sister. He hadn't spoken to her at all in the last few days, and felt a real prat about it. He just couldn't face her. How could he comfort her, when he was falling apart himself? It was selfish, he knew, but it wasn't just that he didn't want to have to deal with her grief. Ron had no idea what to even say to his sister. How could he possibly be of any consolation? Their situations were so different. Harry had been Ron's best friend, while to Ginny he had been the love of her life.

He tugged Hermione's hand as he led them to a nearby log and sat down. She positioned herself close beside him, and they sat in silence, with only the sound of Hermione's sniffles and the lake lapping at the shore. Ron put his arm around her, and she sank into his warmth. It was funny, he thought, with no humor at all, that it had taken this tragedy for Ron to wake up. Maybe he really was the great unobservant git everyone always teased him for being. Never before would he have been able to put his arm around her without blushing furiously while simultaneously trying to shut out the million panicky thoughts in his head of how she could shoot him down. He lightly kissed the top of her head, and felt her stiffen, which unfortunately did get the blood flowing to his face again. However, she didn't say anything, and he noticed, was quick to relax back into him.

He had planned to do it in a more romantic setting. Maybe with candles, and flowers. He had been told that girls liked that sort of thing. In fact, he hadn't really intended to just jump right to it, either. Beat around the bush a little, and maybe ask her out first. And he had no idea how she felt about him, even though he had been assured by his sister that she felt the same, which made for another example of his infamous ability to be completely unperceptive. However, sitting here with her, he suddenly felt like he had to say it and get it off his chest, regardless. Isn't that what unexpected deaths were supposed to teach you? Carpe Diem and all that?

"..Mione?" He mumbled, nervously.

"Hmm?"

Ron paused, gathering his nerves, while she waited patiently for what she knew was coming. She smiled faintly; she wasn't half so thick as him.

"I love you."

She pulled slightly away from him, which threw him into a quiet panic. This wasn't the reaction he had been hoping for. It was, in fact, quite the opposite. Maybe he should have expected it? Why did he have to rush it? What was wrong with him? Why did he have to be so bloody daft?

His roaring thoughts were quieted immediately when she slowly leaned towards him and placed a soft, gentle kiss on his mouth. Her lips were salty from crying, but, he noted, tasted like strawberries too. Rather cliché, he thought wryly, but somehow, in spite of that, it was so perfectly Hermione.

She drew back smiling lightly, and stood up, extending her hand for his. He took it and began to follow her back to the castle leaving him confused about where this left him with Hermione, but having the faintest idea that it was somewhere good. As they reached the castle doors, Ron was wrenched from his pleasant thoughts and was once again faced with the unfair reality that was awaiting him. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep just like the night before and the night before that, and would instead pass the time tossing and turning in an effort to get comfortable.

However, looking over at the girl walking beside him, he silently made plans to maybe use that time wisely and go speak to Ginny after all.