It was a quiet, cool, full moon's night. By the light of the crackling fire in the living room of the Burrow, Harry Potter sat wide awake, a sleeping Hermione Granger in his arms.

Ever since the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione (or the Golden Trio, as they were dubbed by the Prophet) had become more dependent on each other than ever before. They were more affectionate towards everyone, and constantly comforted each other whenever one of them had a nightmare.

Hermione's situation was probably the worst. She still got nightmares, residues from her torture in Malfoy Manor, and at least twice a week, woke up the whole household with her screaming. So, since a few days, he and Ron had been taking turns in sitting up with her.

He looked down at her. She looked so peaceful, her head in his lap. He took a moment to admire the way the moonlight illuminated her face in a silvery glow. It hit him, suddenly, that she wasn't a frizzy-haired, buck-toothed eleven-year-old anymore. She was all grown up, and rather beautiful. All of them were grown up. It's not like we even had a proper childhood anyway, he mused.

Just as he was about to nod off to sleep, he heard the squeak of a door opening. After a few moments, he opened his eyes to see Ron sitting next to him, a look of pure, tender adoration as he looked at Hermione.

Ron and Hermione. Harry knew for a fact that, after their first kiss in the Room of Requirement, they hadn't moved on with their relationship at all. It was at a standstill. He also knew that he probably wasn't supposed to meddle in it, but he felt like he had to anyway.

"Hey, Ron?"

Ron looked up, clearly startled. "Oh, hey, Harry. I thought you were asleep."

He chuckled. "I was, until you came in."

"Oh. Sorry I woke you up. I can just- "

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been wanting to speak to you for a while, to be honest."

He looked puzzled. "Okay."

"She's madly in love with you, you know. Hermione, I mean."

He suddenly sat up straighter. "No, she doesn't!"

Harry resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "So that kiss two weeks ago isn't proof enough for you?"

He blushed. "That was probably just a pity kiss. Besides, the catalyst was house elves. N-not very romantic, is it?", he asked, with a nervous laugh.

"And what about the way she looks at you? The way she was jealous of you drooling over Fleur, and your relationship with Lavender?"

He didn't speak for a few moments. After two whole minutes, he managed to ask, "Really? You're sure? I mean, I thought she got over me, judging by the way she gave me a proper thrashing when I came back that day…".

"Trust me, mate. I know."

Then an awkward silence fell. None of them spoke for a few minutes. Ron broke the silence by asking, "Harry? Can you tell me something, honestly?"

He was confused. "Okay…"

"I…I never completely believed what you told me that day. When I came back. About how you feel about Hermione. Please, Harry, just be frank with me. I-"

"Ron-"

"-Don't want our relationship to-"

"Ron-"

"Fail-"

"RON!", Harry half-whispered, half-shouted. "Stop. Just stop. Listen to me."

"Okay."

"Hermione's just my best friend, and an amazing one at that. You know that already. You also know that we're really close to each other, especially nowadays. But, being close friends does not mean that I'm in love with her, alright? So you don't need to worry about me…I dunno, stealing her from you. Ever. I'm way too in love with Ginny for that."

Ron seemed to release a breath he'd been holding. "Right. Thanks a lot, mate. I mean it.", he said sheepishly.

But Harry wasn't listening. He'd just realized that he'd told Ron, of all people, that he was in love with his sister. He braced himself for the explosion.

But it didn't come.

Instead-

"Harry?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I'm fine with you and Ginny being together."

Now it was Harry who released a breath. "Really?"

"Really. I just want you two to be happy, you know. That day…I thought you two really had broken up, so…I just got protective."

Harry chucked. "Yeah, I figured out that much."

"There's one condition though."

"Yeah?"

"You hurt her, and I will hex you. I've got some excellent ones up my sleeve, y'know?"

"Deal. And if you hurt Hermione, then I'll send a Bat Bogey Hex at you."

"Deal."

And as they sat there in a comfortable silence, Harry thought, for what seemed like the millionth time, how wonderful it was to talk about normal stuff. Stuff that teens usually talked about.

To not worry about dark wizards and prophecies.