She didn't plan it, but whirling around to find herself practically in Ron Weasley's arms was the best move Hermione could have possibly made at the time. He looked like he had been Stunned, rather paler than usual, clutching her arms as she gazed expectantly up at him.

"Well?" Hermione demanded.

Ron seemed to come back to attention then. His eyes snapped to hers, a little confused, but mostly apprehensive. "Well, what?" he asked. Hermione coolly held his gaze.

"Are you going to say it or not? It's really past due, you know." The effect this had on Ron was immediately apparent. A blush, almost a perfect match for his hair, rose in his cheeks. He began to mumble.

"Past…you want me to…?" His sentence trailed off as he gulped loudly. "Well, it might be, you know, a little bit romantic. The timing and everything." " That's…that's morbid, Hermione. You're downright sick, you are. We've barely just…I mean, he's still there…" Ron gestured wildly at the corpse on the ground. "But we survived, Ron. It nearly killed us, and if it hadn't been for-,"

"I know, it's just, can't we forget about it? We both know it; do we really have to say it out loud? Can't it just be, you know…between us?"

"I want you to say it," Hermione glared pointedly at the awkward young man in front of her.

Ron's panicked expression became, if possible, even more panicked. He began to squirm slightly, looking around him to find some sort of relief. His wandering eyes soon came to rest on Harry, who had been slinking unobtrusively away. For the first time, hope blossomed on Ron's very red face. "What about Harry?"

This new revelation threw Hermione for a moment; she was the Stunned and Ron the triumphant. "What about Harry?" she finally returned.

"Don't you want him to say it? He's a fine man. Let him say it to you."

"I want YOU to say it."

" I DON'T WANT TO SAY IT!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST TAKE ME FOR GRANTED!"

Across the room, Harry watched his two best friends shout at each other over Voldemort's dead body. Their movements were becoming more and more aggressive with each passing second. Harry was slightly worried.

"You don't care if Harry takes you for bloody granted!" Ron was snarling. Hermione was seething.

"Harry's not my boyfriend!"

"Give it up, Hermione!"

A short silence fell over the room, until Hermione said, in the calmest, quietest voice she had used during the entire row, "If you can't say one simple sentence, then I'm leaving." She made to do just that.

She had gone barely three steps past Ron when he gave in. He glared sullenly at her when she turned around.

"You were right." The words looked as if they were physically painful to him.

"About what?"

Silence.

Hermione turned toward the door.

"Schoolisnotdumb," Ron rushed before she could leave.

"And?"

"It helped us kill You-Know-Who. Are you happy now?"

Hermione smiled. "Very."