A/N: Firstly, thank you for your lovely reviews! They really mean the world to me, and I'm so glad lots of you seem to be enjoying the story so far.

This chapter is a bit of a risky one. But I wanted to write a bit of a lighter one before the dreaded Malfoy Manor.

Also, this one is kind of short so the next chapter should be up not long after, I promise!

Thank you, once again. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 24 - Shameless

The day couldn't have gone worse and Hermione felt horrendously guilty about it. She had asked the boys if she could take first watch; she needed time to herself. Who knew that Xenophillius would have acted like that? Hermione could understand that he was worried for his daughter, but Harry could've died. They all could have.

But of course, the Lovegood patriarch managed to squeeze in the story about 'The Deathly Hallows' before he alerted the Death Eaters that the three were there. And now, Harry had some stupid-fairytale-children's-story that he was already obsessing over. How could he become so easily distracted by an old, fictional story when they still had more than half of the Horcruxes to establish and locate? Hermione could only blame herself; she had kept on and on about visiting the Lovegood's, and what good did it provide? If anything, they were in more danger now.

Tears threatened as she stared unseeingly into the dark forest. It was mid-February so the bitter cold was easing off, however the air still had a slight chill, especially at night. She thought about what the weather was like in Sydney; where she had sent her parents. They liked big cities, and Hermione ensured that she allowed them that when she sent them away somewhere. It had been six months now. Lord knew she missed them. Although she knew she shouldn't be thinking so negatively, the vision of winning was becoming blurrier and blurrier. Along with that was the vision of ever seeing her parents again. The thought caused the eager tears to cascade down her face, freely.

Ron couldn't sit still in the tent, he knew Hermione would blame herself for what had happened, but it wasn't her fault at all. Who'd have known that Lovegood was such a treacherous git? Ron had a shower in an attempt to distract himself, but it was no use. Harry had gone to bed, fixated on the Hallows story; something Ron felt a fool for not thinking about sooner.

He made mugs of tea for Hermione and himself before heading out into the chilly night. And there he found her, she looked freezing. With a bit of difficulty, he held both mugs in one hand, fiddling for his wand to summon a blanket. He caught the woolly material in his free hand and walked over to sit beside her.

Hermione heard someone walk out, she didn't even have to adjust her eyesight to realise it was Ron. She tried to casually wipe her face so that he couldn't tell she was crying. But although she had originally desired no company, she was happy to feel Ron join her. A luxury she didn't have for weeks. And the minute he sat down, Hermione felt more at ease. He must've had a shower because she could smell the mesmerising scent of his shower gel from where she was sat.

"Hi," Ron began.

"Hi." Hermione replied, shyly, turning to him.

"Thought you might be cold." He explained, handing her a mug and draping the blanket over her lap.

"Thanks, Ron."

There was a few minutes of silence before Ron spoke again. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, he assumed she was already feeling bad enough.

"Are-are you okay? Y'know, after today?" He asked timidly.

Hermione sighed. "I should never have suggested it."

"Hermione-"

"Ron, I was the one who wouldn't let the idea die! Looking back, I don't even know why I suggested it in the first place. Look what happened." She confessed glumly, looking back towards the trees.

"Hermione, you couldn't have known that bloody lunatic was gonna turn us in. You were just moving us forward."

Hermione scoffed with incredulity. "Forward? Harry is obsessed with a make-believe fairytale and we very nearly died, again."

"Well," Ron contemplated his next few words carefully. "Maybe the Deathly Hallows isn't all rubbish. I mean, Harry does have an Invisibility Cloak."

"That may be so but we need to focus on what we do know for certain; there are still four Horcruxes left, Ron. And we're not any closer to finding at least one." Hermione countered.

Ron sighed, Hermione was reminding him of himself only a couple of months ago. But that wasn't the attitude they needed.

"I just wish I hadn't kept nagging to go. We could've all died." Her voice was shaky.

Ron moved closer and placed down his mug. He took her hand in one of his own, the other gently turning her face.

Hermione nearly gasped at the contact, yet another thing she had gone without for so long. She tried to regain concentration, though, as she took in the seriousness of his deep blue eyes.

"Hermione, what happened today was not your fault. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over. We all agreed to go, the only person to blame is that git that poor Luna has for a father, okay?"

Hermione nodded, putting down her untouched mug of tea. Ron pulled her closer to him. Hermione happily crashed to his chest, inhaling her favourite air. Ron held her tightly as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I really, really missed you." She confessed.

"I missed you more." Ron assured.

"Trust you to turn it into a competition." Hermione chuckled.

Ron pulled her away slightly, Hermione furrowed her brows until she realised how serious his eyes had returned to being.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. I will never, ever leave you again. Ever." He said sternly, yet with a soft voice.

Hermione thought she would melt under his loving gaze. She felt more special than anything on the planet. And she believed him. She really believed him. "I know. I forgive you."

Ron's lips curved up into a tantalising grin. God, the power he had in that smile. "Can I tell you something?" He said, considerably cheerier.

Hermione nodded with a smile as she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I really want to fucking kiss you." He nearly whispered.

Hermione bit her lip in order to not squeal with glee. She felt like one of the girls she would mock for being so silly over a boy, and she couldn't be happier about it.

"And I really, really want you to." She confessed. "But," she added sadly, looking down.

"We can't, I know." Ron sighed, finishing her sentence. He took one of the hands that were around his neck and intertwined their fingers. "Won't be long, though." He reassured.

Hermione wasn't so convinced and Ron could tell straight away as her eyes turned sad and doubtful. "Hey." He said. "We will win this."

"I don't know, Ron…"

"Hermione, you can't talk like that. We will get through this and come out on the other side." He insisted as he gently lifted her chin.

The hopeful look in his eyes warmed her heart. He was right, after all; it was no use being so pessimistic. But it was hard to constantly remain strong and positive. Hermione was just grateful that she had Ron to pull her out of her own thoughts.

"My watch is about to start." Ron said reluctantly. "You should go to bed and get some sleep."

"Can I just stay here a moment?" Hermione asked as she hugged him again, her eyes were drooping shut but she craved the sound of his heartbeat.

"Of course." Ron said softly into her hair, which he had missed so much.

Another fast week had passed since the mishap at the Lovegood's. In which time, the three had relocated the tent. Ron's bunk had returned to being a makeshift wardrobe; where he chucked his clothes in a messy pile, much to Hermione's distaste which meant she would tidy it. She was happy to do so, though, as long as Ron was staying in her bunk, right beside her, Hermione would tidy a million other bunks in return.

Ron was pleased with their sleeping arrangements, too. It finally felt like it did before the locket had taken over; better, actually. And he was overjoyed. The whole prospect seemed to be slipping through his fingers, so to have Hermione in his arms again made him the happiest man alive.

Harry came and relieved him of his watch, Ron was more than grateful that the time had finally passed. He dashed into the bathroom for a quick shower before slipping into the bunk beside Hermione.

He tried his absolute best not to wake her; sliding in as silently as he could, but when she turned around he realised that he had failed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He said truthfully, his voice half muffled by the pillow as he came to the realisation that he was actually very tired.

Hermione couldn't sleep very well tonight, she never did without Ron, but tonight was exceptionally difficult as she waited for the time to pass before he joined her in her bunk.

"No, no. I was already awake." She assured, leaning on one elbow to look down at him.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked concernedly, he didn't like the thought of her not being able to sleep.

"I'm fine, I promise." Hermione smiled down at him. Then a realisation hit her. "Ron, it must be about four o'clock! Do you know what day it is?" She asked, excitedly.

"Uh...Sunday?" He offered, as much as he loved the sound of her enthusiastic voice, especially in these dark times, he did just wish she would come cuddle with him and fall asleep.

"Nooo," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, you're right. It is Sunday, but not just any Sunday."

Ron opened one drowsy eye and arched an eyebrow.

"Ron! It's your birthday! It's March, the first!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting up properly.

Ron readjusted his position so his head was held up by his hands, but he continued to lie down on his front. It was his birthday, he hadn't even remembered. Not that a birthday meant much when you were in the midst of a war.

"Oh yeah, Happy Birthday, me." He goofily smiled before dropping his head back to his pillow.

Hermione sighed, she lay down next to him. Ron turned his face to watch her, she looked somewhat disappointed. "Is everything alright?" He asked nervously.

"I just- you gave me such a wonderful birthday. And I have no idea how I'm going to give you the same." Hermione confessed softly.

Ron sighed with relief. "Hermione, you forgiving me is the best present I could ever receive. Don't stress, okay?"

Hermione sighed again. "I just wish you could have a better eighteenth."

"There are more important things going on right now."

"You still threw me an exceptional party." Hermione countered.

"Yeah, but that was-"

"Different?" Hermione finished for him. "You deserve a fantastic birthday too, Ron."

"Not after what I did to you." He shook his head, Hermione's heart constricted with sadness at the note of self loathing in his voice.

"Ron, I forgive you for that. You know I do." Hermione tried.

Ron didn't say anything and Hermione scorned herself; they were already ruining his birthday. Then an idea popped into her head. "I have an idea of what I can give you." She began. Ron raised his eyebrow again. "It's not much, but I think you'll appreciate it." Hermione bit her lip shyly.

"What?" Ron asked curiously. He was beginning to feel excited himself.

"Well, you know how you've been complaining recently about your back."

"Ah, I know. It's bloody killing me." Ron agreed.

"Well, I thought that for your birthday I could give you a..massage?" Hermione suggested.

Ron's eyes snapped open. He had been dreaming of the day that Hermione would ask to have her hands all over him since he was fourteen! All of his exhaustion was ignored and he suddenly started to feel the temperature of the tent rise. Control yourself! He thought.

"I don't have to, though." Hermione added sheepishly, Ron realised that he hadn't answered quick enough.

"No! I mean, only if you want to. It is quite late." Ron reasoned although he hoped she wouldn't agree.

"I wasn't really that tired anyway." Hermione said giddily as she moved off the bed over Ron.

"Where are you going?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just stay like that, I need to go grab something." Hermione dashed off to the bathroom.

When she returned, Ron had propped himself up on his elbows. "Lie back down." She instructed. Ron did as he was told but looked curiously at the small bottle in her hand.

"Massage oil. I must've scooped it into my bag without thinking when I was doing a quick pack of the toiletries before we left the Burrow."

Ron nodded and lay his head down on the pillow, his anticipation rising.

Hermione contemplated her next actions; they were still strictly friends. Despite the confessions they had made that other night. Was this appropriate? Oh, sod it, Hermione thought. Now was not the time for hesitations. And it was his birthday, after all.

Getting on to the bed, Hermione straddled him with her knees at either side of his waist. "Are-are you ready?" She asked in a sheepish tone.

Ron cleared his throat; his mouth had gone dry as he thought about her current position. "Yeah - yes." He hoped his answer sounded confident enough to spur her on.

So, Hermione began. She poured some oil out of the bottle and rubbed it in her hands before beginning at his back. They both nearly gasped at the touch, somehow things started to feel more intimate.

As the minutes ticked by, Hermione gained more confidence within herself and worked harder whilst ensuring she didn't hurt him. Ron, on the other hand, thought he had died and gone to heaven. Her soft fingers added with the oil caused his senses to tingle as her hands traveled south, and then north, and then south again. He was trying his best to stifle a groan, which he assumed would only make things more awkward, but it was proving quite difficult.

Hermione loved the feeling of his strong back under her small hands. Even though neither of them had kept a good or nutritious diet throughout the whole saga, Ron's Quidditch physique had only faltered slightly, much to Hermione's guilty pleasure.

She had truly missed him, and she had truly forgiven him, no matter what he said about himself. The heat that radiated off of him caused Hermione to forget that it was hardly Spring and the weather was still nippingly chilly.

"Is it alright?" Hermione asked nervously as she pulled herself back to the task at hand.

"Bloody brilliant." Ron mumbled into the pillow and Hermione chuckled. She was very pleased with the answer, however, and it gave her a spark of confidence to make her next move.

She leaned down so her face was close to his, "Happy Birthday, Handsome." She whispered into his ear. She kissed the part of exposed cheek that wasn't crushed to the pillow and, rather daringly, she nipped his earlobe. That caused Ron to groan without any chance of stifling it. Hermione chuckled again and leaned back up.

She squealed with shock as Ron abruptly flipped over on to his back, clenching her thighs to steady both himself and her. "Thank you." He said before sitting up and guiding her legs to go around his waist so she was forced to sit on his lap - not that she had any complaints.

Hermione bit her lip as she encircled his neck with her arms. They stared at each other for what felt like hours, yet Hermione wanted to stay there forever. The air was thick and their eyes were both dark with desire. Hermione was trying her hardest to keep it together, but she was drowning under his gaze.

Ron stared at her with as much love and intensity anyone could produce. He loved her. And not only that, she looked positively gorgeous in her small pyjamas, which Ron had never seen her wear before.

"I never thought that this would be the hardest thing to keep up right now," Ron finally said, referring to the forced metaphorical barrier between them.

"Nor did I," Hermione admitted.

"Well, it definitely doesn't help when you're staring at my lips like that." Ron chuckled, which caused Hermione to blush furiously.

"Hey! It also doesn't help that you have your hands placed dangerously high!" She retorted with a smirk, nodding her head at where Ron's hands were gripping the backs of her thighs.

Immediately, Ron took his hands away and held them up in mock surrender. "Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself, if you can't handle it."

"As will I, I wouldn't want you becoming distracted." Hermione's arms left his neck and she moved completely off of Ron's lap. "As for me, I can possess brilliant self control when need be."

"Oh, I bet you would crack before I did." Ron scoffed, moving to lie back down.

"Are you joking? You are a randy teenage boy, lest you forget."

"Well, I'm not the one who just kissed someone's cheek and bit someone's earlobe." Ron teased, feigning a disapproving and affronted expression.

"That was for your birthday!" Hermione replied defensively, blushing once again.

"I know, and it was the second best birthday present you have ever given me, or anyone, really." He said seriously, simultaneously referring to the fact she had forgiven him.

Hermione turned more serious, too, "I fail to believe it was that brilliant." She said shyly, before returning to the playful teasing. "But I still think I would outlast you."

"Alright." Ron relented. "But aren't you gonna come over here?" He asked, referring to her usual position of falling asleep in his arms.

"Fine," Hermione pretended to sigh, although she would always jump to the invite of being in Ron's big, strong arms. Even if only for a night. "But we're counting this as you giving in first." She teased.

"I can make peace with that." He sighed contentedly as she snuggled up to him.

Hermione turned her head slightly to place a light kiss on his shoulder, before residing to her usual spot; Ron's chest, where she could listen to his heart beat, and drift off to her favourite sound.