A/N: Bit of a shorter chapter, my apologies!

Chapter 18 - Eighteenth at Number Twelve

Where on earth is he?! This and many other thoughts rang through Hermione's mind as she paced the living room of Grimmauld Place.

The first week at the safehouse had been rather eventful; Kreacher had located Mundungus Fletcher and Hermione had to physically restrain Ron from doing who knows what to the thief that the three interrogated about the whereabouts of the locket.

Frustration dawned on them as they worked out it was Umbridge, of all people, who had the locket now. Hermione began instantly to manically create a plan on how they were going to retrieve it.

After hours of discussing multiple ways to handle the situation, the trio decided the only way for them to be able to steal the locket back was to infiltrate the Ministry, despite Hermione's discomfort with the prospect.

Also, their ex-professor, Lupin, and Harry had a heated argument, bringing out an explosive side in each that Hermione hadn't expected. But before their row escalated, Ron had promised that he would do anything he could to ensure Hermione wouldn't be captured by Death Eaters looking for muggle-borns. Hermione watched in awe as he made such bold statements without even guessing twice. She fell in love with him again just at that moment. Falling harder than she thought was even possible.

But now, love was the last emotion on her mind as she crossed her arms impatiently. Since their plan to find and retrieve the locket from Umbridge, Hermione, Ron and Harry had each taken it in turns to take Harry's invisibility cloak and take watch outside the Ministry to gauge not only Umbridge's comings and goings, but to also suss out three people they could Polyjuice themselves into. This didn't sit well with Hermione either, but she had come to terms with there being a few things she probably wouldn't like along this hunt, but she'd have to put those aside for the sake of humanity, if nothing else.

Tonight was Ron's turn and he was yet to arrive home. Two hours ago he was meant to come back. Two hours. Hermione always felt nervous when it was his turn anyway, but especially tonight when they hadn't heard a word from him. Where on earth could he be? Was he hurt? He could may as well be dead and Hermione, or Harry, wouldn't have had the faintest idea. And Harry was just sitting there playing with his snitch!

"Oh, where is he?" Hermione asked angrily.

Harry shrugged, his calmness in this situation was infuriating Hermione. His best friend could be anywhere right now and he wasn't even concerned enough to lift his eyes from the stupid golden ball that Dumbledore had left him in his will.

"Well aren't you the slightest bit concerned?" She asked incredulously. She was torn between going to find him and the fact that they would be in grave danger if they did so. They didn't even have the invisibility cloak.

"Hermione, I'm sure he's fine." Harry sighed with exasperation as if she was asking a ridiculous and unnecessary question. This only increased Hermione's frustration but she just huffed instead of responding.

As much as she, from the outside, seemed like an angry control freak who had to know Ron's whereabouts every waking minute, this simply wasn't the case. Harry was the most wanted wizard in the whole of the wizarding world, and Ron and Hermione came in close second for being the most associated with him. So, it was incredibly dangerous for Ron to be out, completely alone and roaming around the busiest city in England, not to mention the fact he was lingering around the Ministry, of all places. The second he was captured, Hermione could only imagine the unthinkable consequences he would suffer. Bile rose in her throat and she had to shut her eyes quickly, as if to cancel out her own thoughts.

And if he was okay, what on earth was he doing? Why did he have to put Hermione through this? Surely he knew her well enough to know that she cared too much about him to just sit still and let time pass by? Maybe he didn't know at all, or worse, he didn't care. Hermione felt ill as the clock on the wall laughed at her, the tedious ticking sound pounding through her ears.

A huge lump in her throat became even more prominent as her mind wandered to the same mounting anxiety she had been suffering through for most of the evening.

After what felt like decades, the front door finally clicked and Hermione heard the familiar voice of the imbecile that she was both ecstatic yet infuriated by.

Ron muttered something to the dust-Dumbledore but before he could reply, Hermione had already stormed through to the hallway, and as he expected, she looked positively furious. "Where. Have. You. Been?!" She roared the last word with even more anger than the rest.

"I know, I know, I am really sorry but just please stop for a sec and put this on." Ron threw his hands up defensively and Hermione noticed a blindfold in his right hand. She furrowed her eyebrows at him, what was he up to now?

"Do you have any idea how worried I was, Ron?" She asked, her tone just as angry as she ignored his request.

"I'm sorry, I really am but please, please, just put this on and trust me." Ron pleaded, Hermione glared at him before looking back behind her, finding Harry stood in the doorframe, his arms folded and a smug smile on his face. Something was going on and Hermione seemed to be the only one who was in the dark about it. Didn't they understand this wasn't the time for games?

She turned back to Ron and considered him. "Please. Trust me." He said firmly. Hermione rolled her eyes but stepped forward to meet him. Ron grinned at her in relief before motioning with his finger for her to spin around. Eyeing him cautiously, Hermione did as he silently asked.

"Right, can you see anything?" Ron asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

"You do know how a blindfold works, don't you?" She retorted, not even caring to lower the frustration in her voice.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry but he was still wearing a smile. "Ha ha." He replied sarcastically. "Okay, walk forward." He requested.

Hermione tentatively walked in a direction she hoped was the right one, Ron placed a hand on her back to steady her, which despite how annoyed she still was with him, sent chills down her spine nonetheless.

"Where are we going?" She asked frustratedly as she walked into what she suspected was the coffee table.

"Sorry." Ron winced and took her arms so he had more control over where she was stumbling into. With Harry in the lead, he walked her down the stairs towards the kitchen, causing Hermione to cling onto him for her dear life.

Hermione knew that they had reached the kitchen and had thus far found the blindfold utterly pointless, but that could equally be because she had nearly fallen over about a million times.

She heard the familiar sound of the stone floor, under what she assumed were Harry's feet. She was still in the hold of Ron's strong arms. When had he gotten so strong? She mused. No, she admonished herself. She was still angry with him. Despite how safe she felt in his arms.

"Okay," Ron said and began to untie her blindfold. Before he completely released it, however, he brought his face to her and whispered, "happy birthday."

Hermione didn't have a second to comprehend the fact that he had remembered what day it was, let alone the fact it was her birthday, before she was gasping at the scene before her. The usually eerie, dark kitchen was now glowing in bright colours provided by the hundreds of decorations that dressed it. A huge banner that caught her busy eyes first, read, "Happy birthday, Hermione" in huge, gold letters. Balloons were spread around the room, large ones that read the number '18' in the same gold font. The long table was dressed in a silver table cloth that was also sprinkled with golden confetti. Plates of party food were laid across the table with a number of cards and presents.

At the centre of the table, however, was what sent Hermione over the edge, tears brimming her eyes that fought desperately to fall down her cheeks. The biggest cake that Hermione had ever seen was shaped perfectly as a book which had the words, lined in icing, 'Hermione: A History'.

After examining the beautiful scene, Hermione turned to look at Ron with an expression of pure happiness on her face. "B-but, h-how did you-"

"Got home earlier whilst you were in the shower and snuck down to the kitchen. Didn't take long at all, really, Kreacher helped me with it all, especially the cake." Ron said nodding at the house elf who stood in the corner, smiling and bowing at them.

"Thank you, Kreacher! It's-it's amazing!" She cried in glee. She had known it was her birthday today but hardly felt it was even worth mentioning whilst everything was going on, so she was content on spending the day oblivious to the fact it was her eighteenth.

Turning back to Ron, she flung her arms around his neck, he hugged her in return. "Didn't really think we'd forget your birthday, did you?" He chuckled. Hermione released from him slightly to look at his face.

"Thank you." She beamed at him.

"Right, who's ready to party, then?" Harry clapped his hands together to draw his two friends out of each other's gaze. He wasn't in the mood to watch them snog each other, or even worse right in front of him.

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione rushed over to hug him, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

The evening had been perfect, they ate and drank and not once mentioned the war or the Ministry or the horcruxes. The cake only became even more incredible, each layer revealed a fact, written in icing, about Hermione's life that she had no idea Ron even knew of.

Harry eventually made an excuse for going up to bed because he was tired, but secretly he was happy to let his two friends have a moment alone. Even the ever-oblivious Harry Potter had noticed their growing closeness, he just hoped it wouldn't turn sour this time.

Hermione and Ron said their goodnights to Harry and watched him as he wandered up the stairs to bed. Hermione sighed contentedly and looked back to Ron who was sitting in one of the armchairs that sat in front of the fire in the kitchen.

She couldn't believe he had done all of this for her, especially considering the circumstances. Hermione didn't think she could ever look at someone so adoringly. No, that was wrong. Of course she could believe that he would do something as wonderful as this, what she couldn't believe is what on earth she had done to deserve to be treated as wonderfully as this.

As boldly as she had ever felt, Hermione stood up and stretched before sitting on the arm of his chair. "You okay?" Ron asked as she continued to smile at him. She must've looked like a lunatic but she didn't care.

"Better than okay." Hermione replied. Ron opened his arms with the same inviting, lopsided grin that she had fallen so in love with. Her smile grew even wider to the point where the muscles in her face ached with how happy she was. Sliding down the chair so she was sitting on his lap, Hermione encircled his neck with her arms and looked lovingly down to him.

"Did you have a good night, then?" Ron couldn't suppress the grin that had appeared the second Hermione had taken off her blindfold, and hadn't left his face all night. In hindsight, he knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to leave Hermione worrying all evening about where he was, but he had no other option, it had to be a surprise.

They had been at Grimmauld Place now for over a month and he knew that Hermione was taking the stress and anxiety the very hardest out of the three of them. Ron knew her birthday was nearing, he wasn't very good at remembering dates but ever since his third year at Hogwarts he had somehow managed to memorise it. He knew she wouldn't make a fuss, or even go as far as mention it, but she needed a night off. A night where she wasn't planning or panicking, it was just rather convenient that her birthday had crept around sooner than later.

A hectic couple of hours were spent decorating the kitchen, a task that Ron had never appreciated the amount of effort that goes into. He was rather proud of the cake idea, he knew Hermione loved the book Hogwarts: A History, or at least she read it about a thousand times, so that's where the concept began. Kreacher had been a massive help with the cake, Ron didn't think he'd be the best at baking so left that task to the skilled houself, along with the other food preparations. All of the decorations Ron had on hand, Hermione had told him that the age eighteen was a rather big deal in the muggle world, so he wanted to ensure that she had a good birthday no matter where they were.

"Good?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "It was brilliant!"

"Really?" Ron asked, relief and pride washing over him at her enthusiasm.

Hermione found his excitement the sweetest thing she had ever witnessed. He had clearly shown a lot of dedication and commitment for this, and it was all for her. He made her feel like the only person to walk the earth.

She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose gently. Ron blushed but Hermione only found it all the more endearing. In fact, she didn't think there was much he could do that she wouldn't find sweet or kind.

"You are quite amazing, do you know that?" Hermione asked as she gazed into his beautiful eyes.

"Mm, I had a bit of an inkling." Ron joked which earned him a light swat from Hermione as they both chuckled. Ron wanted to stay there forever; she sat in his lap while he held her, knowing she was always safe, whilst smiling up into her gorgeous, chocolate orbs.

Hermione hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder. She was truly exhausted, it had been a long day full of fluctuating emotions but her anguish from earlier was barely prominent in her memory. She was far too happy about the evening. Truthfully, she had no intentions of moving, not even to go to bed (well, the drawing room sofa), although her and Ron had somehow made an unspoken agreement to always grab the other's hand before they fell asleep, which was something she looked forward to during the day. Hermione just wanted to stay here, listening to his breathing and letting it become steady.

"Have you had a good birthday? Y'know with the whole situation and everything?" Ron asked sheepishly as he trailed his fingers up and down her back.

"I've had the best birthday, regardless of the situation." Hermione assured, and she meant every word.

Ron gave her a gentle squeeze, his wide smile still on his lips. He let his eyes droop shut despite the voice in his head that begged him to take them both up to the drawing room. He was perfectly happy to fall asleep here, while Hermione stayed in his arms.

Harry stretched in Sirius' large, black velvet bed before swiping his glasses and adjusting his eyes to the new day's streaming brightness. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he rose up and wandered into the en-suite. Luckily, he had a largely undisturbed sleep despite one or two times he woke up in a pool of his own sweat.

The last night of his life was the most enjoyable he had spent in months, although he assumed that the world's events were still on his mind more than they were for his two best friends. Harry was pleased though, no one wished to see the two of them just get on with it and get together more than him. It would make life a million times easier, and not just for them. But he had a feeling that that time was yet to come.

After a much needed shower, Harry wandered downstairs for breakfast, although he hadn't had much of an appetite in the mornings since they arrived. He was startled as he walked through the kitchen, but the shocked expression on his face quickly lifted to a smile. There were his two companions; asleep in each other's arms, on a chair that didn't look too comfortable to sleep on for one person, let alone two. He grabbed a throw from another armchair and draped it over them. He smirked at the sleeping Ron, Harry knew he wanted to do something special for Hermione and it had clearly paid off.