A/N - Hey, I'm awful, I'm sorry. I will myself to update more frequently, but at the same time I don't want to upload a chapter unless I'm fairly happy with it. I will get better.

Chapter 27 - In the End

Victory. The word had a funny taste to Ron. For years, it had been a dream. For months, it had been a concept that he would cling on to when nothing would go their way. Sometimes, more than enough times, it seemed unreachable, unattainable, gone.

But no. They had won. Harry had done it. Ron didn't understand how, but he wasn't really worried about that during the moment of euphoria that came after watching his best mate really defeat that bastard. But as Ron looked around him now, the last thing he felt was victorious.

The reason why, of course, was no mystery. Fred. Was. Gone. He didn't really know why, but no matter how many times he told himself, it just didn't seem to sink in. It was as if he was expecting Fred to just bumble in and join everyone with the same cheeky smile and menacing glint in his eye. But no. Ron looked up to George, who was sitting opposite Ron on one of the long Great Hall tables that survived the war, and saw… emptiness, he supposed. Ron tore his eyes away once he realised how long he had been staring. He felt as though he was intruding on George. The man just lost a twin. Not just someone he knew. Not just a family member. Not even just a brother. A bloody twin.

At this, Ron did feel a lump rise in his throat. How did this happen? He was only left to wonder. It wasn't fucking fair. He looked over to his mother, weeping helplessly away into his father's shoulder. His Dad was staring stoically at the table, a tear stained face that Ron couldn't recall ever witnessing. Percy was crying, although mostly in silence, whilst being comforted by Bill and Charlie, whose faces both looked pained. Ginny was crying into Ron's shoulder. Ron wished he could be more helpful for his little sister, right now, but he didn't know what to offer. And then there was Hermione. She was clinging to his arm, her hand holding his tightly under the table.

He looked down at their joined hands, wondering what his family would think of it. Ron felt that he actually longed for the day George would be able to take the piss out of him again, and he was sure that him finally being with Hermione would encourage his usual teasing. But Ron stopped himself there. That thought wasn't technically true, was it? Hermione had kissed him in the middle of the Battle - which he enthusiastically responded to. But, did that necessarily mean she actually wanted something with him? Thoughts swam through his head of him not being good enough for her, but that was common knowledge at this point. Ron sighed. So much for light at the end of the tunnel.

Hermione blinked back to reality at the subtle sound of Ron's sigh. She had been thinking mostly of the cruelty. The cruelty that this loving, beautiful family was faced with. The loss in this hall was what had made it so Great this evening, and Hermione felt nothing but pure devastation for all those who had lost someone during the Battle. She would have to have been naive to think that there would be a hundred percent survival rate when presented with something so dark and evil. But this was… alarming. Heartbreakingly alarming. The Weasleys didn't deserve this. Fred didn't deserve this. He had so much of his life ahead of him, in fact, it had only just begun, what with the rapid success of the twin's shop. But no. It was over. It wasn't fair.

When first entering the Hall, the air was mostly filled with the chaotic sounds of wails, cries, chants, and cheers. Hermione had to convince herself that for so many people this was luckily a happy time. It definitely was a happy time. Harry was free, finally free of everything that had haunted his life. The thought brought even more tears to her eyes. But the feelings of loss in this moment were just too overpowering. And, where did they go from here?

Nothing in Hermione's life had been as planned and as organised as she might have hoped, but there was always that end goal. That sole achievement of being free of the fear of death every time you turned a corner. They weren't running anymore. They had finished it. And as overjoyed as she was at the prospect of winning, especially thinking of everyone's safety and potential happiness, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of anti-climaticism. She guessed that there would be a lot of funerals, a lot of conversations with the Ministry about what they were actually doing on the run for so many months. On top of that would be the insurmountable grief that everyone would be dealing with, whilst trying to rebuild everything at once. And then came her parents…

Another wave of guilt hit Hermione as she thought about her parents. The war was won, technically there was no reason for her to be keeping them in Australia any longer. But, Hermione knew it wasn't as simple as that. She'd have to check on their Henley house first and foremost, then prepare herself for the journey to the other side of the world, then embark on it in hopes that she'll manage the spell, then it's just for her parents to forgive her. But what if they didn't? What if she couldn't find them? She didn't learn their address, after all, in case legilimens were used against her to pry the information from her. It was far too great a risk. But now, she had only a rough idea of where they were, and that just wasn't good enough. Before she could override herself with panic, Hermione reminded herself of the devastation at hand. What she needed to do was support Ron and his family. Like they had done for her for years. Like Ron had done for nearly seven years of his life. Especially this last year. There was no way Hermione would leave his side until he was somewhat okay, if that was even attainable. And maybe he'd even like to join her in Australia… but that was too big of an ask, Hermione deemed.

She tentatively lifted her head to look up and around the table of heartbroken Weasleys. Hermione wondered if tears would always automatically fill her eyes from now on as she looked to Mrs Weasley. Obviously, Hermione had no idea what it was like to have a child. But to lose one seemed utterly unfathomable. The Weasley siblings were notoriously mischievous in all of their own rights - with the exception of Percy in most circumstances - but the only expression Hermione could decipher from any of them was indescribable pain. Finally, she tilted her head so she was looking at Ron. He seemed to sense her action, and turned his head too. Hermione didn't pander to offer him a fake smile; she didn't want to make him feel as though he should try to force one, either. Instead, she held his gaze whilst plucking a scrap of debris from his hair. She wondered whether it would be appropriate to keep her hand at his face, but decided against it in light of his family.

She didn't break her stare, though. Instead, her gaze dropped to his lips. Immediately, a sudden warmth filled her as she recalled the blissful feeling of those lips against her own. And not only were they just against her own, but they had responded with just as much want and need as hers. He had even lifted her off of her feet! Quickly, Hermione admonished herself for allowing her train of thought to end up there. She loved Ron, and this wasn't the time to indulge in selfish thoughts of his lips upon hers. Feeling quite embarrassed at the prospect of staring at his lips, Hermione blushed before turning to look down at their hands instead.

It had been about half an hour since Hermione was nearly startled out of her skin by Harry's invisible presence. Professor McGonagall had given a brief announcement, which Hermione only half-coherently listened to. What she did understand was that the remaining families were welcome to stay as long as they needed. Most of the Weasleys headed up to the common room; not ready to take Fred's lifeless body home just yet. Hermione and Ron stayed back with the intention of finding Harry, but he had found them first.

Questions, explanations and apologies were exchanged between the three as they made their way up to the Head's office. Hermione stood in awe as Harry informed them on everything, from the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone, down to Snape's true alliance. She smiled at the newfound admiration in Harry's voice for their Potions teacher. Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem even as slightly as moved by the revelation as Hermione and Harry were. She knew he couldn't forget all of the grief that Snape had caused the three of them, so she just rolled her eyes at him as they continued their journey. Hermione not only presumed, but hoped that Professor McGonagall would take the post of Headmistress now. Merlin knew the students of this school deserved someone as brilliant as Dumbledore to lead their education. And she was pleasantly surprised to find her once Transfiguration professor in her new office. But she wasn't alone. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood behind the large desk, beside the Professor.

"We were about to go looking for you three," explained Professor McGonagall with a small yet proud smile as she welcomed them in.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all sat down at the desk. Their old professor looked at them with wistful smiles, and Hermione wondered if she was thinking of all the times that their younger selves had found themselves sitting opposite their teacher, waiting nervously for a punishment, or at least an interrogation.

"Well, I for one don't even know where to begin, so I'll pass you on to Kingsley, for now." Professor McGonagall seemed overwhelmed and flustered all of a sudden before taking her seat in the grand chair awaiting her.

"Thank you, Minerva," Kingsley stepped forward, offering a smile to her, before turning to the three. "Firstly, I would like to tremendously thank each of you for everything you have done. It is truly incredible that the three of you, so young, have managed to accomplish all that you have. And the wizarding world will forever be in your debt. But, I will ask with the assurance of total confidentiality, what have the three of you been up to since last August?"

Hermione glanced nervously at the two boys. So, this was it. They would have to tell Kingsley everything. She took a deep breath, noting that Harry looked a lot more ready and willing to recount what had happened. Maybe he just wants it over with, Hermione supposed. Although she couldn't say that she shared the same desire, especially when it came to reliving her torturing.

Ron was looking at her, and she wondered whether he was thinking about the concept of talking about the time that he left. Thankfully, Harry instigated things, by asking the two seniors if either of them were aware of Horcruxes. And on it went…

Eventually, Hermione's nerves settled and she was able to join in with the conversation. Ron watched her, revelling in the way that Hermione spoke with such intent, retelling their story brilliantly, as he knew she would. He watched as the two people on either side of him animatedly shared with Kingsley everything that happened. Ron just observed. It was their time to present to the world just how brilliant they both were, and he wasn't that. He didn't deserve whatever great things that they did. What had caught him off-guard, was that neither Hermione or Harry mentioned him leaving. This made him fill with shame once again. It wasn't fair, he had been nothing less than a coward in November. He didn't deserve the credibility they were leading him to. He had left. He had failed. And it was starting to sicken him how easily they would just cover for him, as if he deserved even that in the slightest.

Well, that wasn't sooo hard, Hermione decided as she allowed Kingsley and Professor McGonagall to digest the information. What was notably strange, was that Ron didn't seem to want to say anything. In fact, as she looked at him now, he seemed the most subdued she had ever witnessed. Hermione couldn't blame him, of course. Only four hours ago, Ron had witnessed Fred's face, lifeless and inanimate. Maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to bring him up here, he needed time to grieve with his family, rather than deal with the aftermath of everything.

They happily passed over the now-powerless Horcruxes to Kingsley, who fascinated himself with them before speaking again. "Thank you for that. I will let you get back and rest now, I imagine you rather deserve it. I will be in contact with you all over the coming days, however I wish you peace until I meet with you again. Good night," Kingsley said, admiration in his eyes that even caused Hermione to faintly blush.

They all stood, looking briefly towards Professor McGonagall who had barely unshed tears in her eyes as she waved them off.

"Oh, I forgot about this." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the Elder Wand, in all its magnificence. Hermione watched as Ron mockingly rolled his eyes at Harry's noble idea of returning it to Dumbledore's grave, but she agreed it was probably best. "More trouble than it's worth," he sighed, before turning around to go back and tell Kingsley and Professor McGonagall.

Hermione turned to Ron, who had returned to looking subdued and withdrawn. She felt so helpless, amongst other things. Anxiously, she played with the zip of her hoodie, pondering on what would be best to say right now, but before she could say anything at all, Harry had rejoined them.

The three reached the common room, which was surprisingly barren of any visitors. On the walk back, Ron became more of himself as the three of them mused what was coming for them now everything was somewhat finished. Hermione smiled warmly at a particular exchange between Ron and Harry, where Harry had essentially asked Ron for his blessing to pick up where Harry left off with Ginny. Hermione waited tensely for Ron's answer; she knew that Ron wasn't best pleased after learning Harry had broken his little sister's heart all those months ago, so it made Hermione proud as she watched Ron eagerly egg Harry on, as if there was no reason to hesitate.

Now, they stood at the entrance to the red and gold room which they hadn't visited in nearly a year, wondering what on Earth will happen next.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted, so I'm gonna head up," Harry sighed, looking up towards the staircase that would take him to the boys' dormitory.

Hermione nodded understandingly at Harry, there was no surprise that their lack of energy was catching up with them after the initial adrenaline had faded. She turned to Ron, biting her lip nervously as she realised, once again, she still hadn't come up with anything useful to say.

So instead, she hugged him.

With her arms around his middle, she rested her head on his chest, pleading that what had happened to him and his family wasn't true.

Ron was taken by surprise slightly, but hugged her back not long after. Hermione moved back slightly so she could look up to his face.

"What's this for?" Ron smiled down at her, referring to her out-of-the-blue embrace.

"Does there have to be a reason?" she asked.

"No, no," Ron was quick to answer. She chuckled softly before readjusting her position, so her arms were wound around his shoulders, where she re-laid her head.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," Hermione all but whispered, her throat quickly becoming constricted.

"S'alright," he said in a strained voice, which Hermione imagined meant that he was fighting a lump in his throat, as well.

She shook her head, "it's not. It will never be alright. You and your wonderful family didn't deserve this, not at all." Her crying had become more insistent, and she turned her head on his shoulder so that she was facing his face, which had a steady flow of tears tracking down them, also. Hermione knew it took a lot for Ron to cry, so she imagined he would never want to display such emotion in front of an audience, so she was relieved that he was okay to cry in front of her, as he should be.

They stood like that for an indeterminable amount of time, Hermione gently stroking Ron's cheek with her thumb as they cried together.

"Can only imagine what Fred would say right now if he saw us like this," Ron joked.

Hermione chuckled through her tears with a watery smile. "Yes, me too," she agreed, before nuzzling her face into the crook of Ron's neck.

Another short while passed before Ron relaxed his hold on Hermione's waist to look back down to her. "I'm pretty shattered myself. Bed?"

Hermione nodded. Admittedly, she craved a shower more than anything, but she didn't think she'd be able to stand in a shower for as long, her exhaustion becoming so extreme.

She let Ron lead her up to the boys dormitory, where they found what would've been Harry's all-year bed, if he had come back, with the curtains drawn around it. They could hear his light snores, and took extra care with being quiet as they drew the curtains around Ron's bed.

"Just in case anyone comes up," Hermione whispered, as she also cast a Muffliato, causing Ron to smirk.

"Hermione, it's fine, you don't have to make such excuses for when you want to kiss me," Ron said, earning him a swat from Hermione which only encouraged his laughter.

"You're already quite good at pushing your luck, I've noticed, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Hmm," Ron pretended to ponder what Hermione had said, before ducking his head down and letting his lips meet hers. Their second kiss. It wasn't a frenzied or particularly passionate kiss, but it was promising. And that warmed Hermione just as much. Also, she would feel rather guilty if they just started snogging their days away, when Ron was quite rawly grieving.

They pulled back, breathlessly, before heading over to a side of the bed each. Hermione was glad that the seemingly simple notion of sharing a bed together had gotten to be so natural to them.

Once they got under the covers, the playful mood felt drained by the weight and sadness that hung over them. Both were lying on their backs, faces up to the ceiling, still clad in their burnt, ripped, damaged clothes, only each other's sides were touching.

Hermione wondered if it would always be like this; moments where you just felt lost to the despair, thinking of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, Dobby, and all the other wonderful souls who had life wrenched from them within an instant. She stopped herself. How could she predict what life would be like for anyone now? Shifting on her side, she turned to Ron, wondering if the pain in his eyes would be evident to anyone but her. She felt guilt as she gently stretched a hand to caress his cheek, as she thought about how giddy and elated she was feeling from their kiss, without even knowing how drastically Ron's world was about to be changed.

He turned his face towards hers and smiled weakly, before taking the hand that was stroking his face and using it to guide Hermione on to her other side. Hermione sighed contentedly as she realised his intentions. Ron intertwined the fingers of the hands they were holding as his arm draped loosely over her waist. It wasn't long before both of their breathing grew steady.

Hermione awoke with a jolt, taking a moment to gauge where she was, what day it was, and all the anxiety-riddled questions her brain would ask since being on the run. She smiled with a sigh as everything came back to her. They were safe. They were okay. It was over.

She rubbed her groggy eyes. The thought of returning back to bed seemed very appealing, although her own smell was enough to get her moving. Getting out of bed as quietly as she could, Hermione kissed Ron on the cheek before acquiring her beaded bag and heading for the bathroom.

The boys bathroom wasn't much too different to the girls', other than the urinals that lined one of the walls. Hermione didn't hesitate in hastily making her way over to a shower cubicle, in absolute desperation to rid herself of the singed, blood-stained, forty-eight hour lasting clothes that she would happily throw away rather than try to amend.

The prickly heat of the rushing water stabbing her wounds was competing with the pain caused by her hairbrush in a futile attempt to detangle the mountain of knots upon her head. Hermione sighed in defeat. To be honest, she didn't have the energy or desire to wonder how disgusting she looked. Reluctantly, her eyes scanned over her arms and legs to assess the new damage. She exhaled a shaky breath when met with the frightening, deep scar that practically screamed itself at Hermione, it was so atrocious.

It wasn't much to do with the word itself. Hermione was a proud muggle-born, and that derogatory term would never make her feel shame for that. It was who had given it to her which inflicted the most upset, and the fact that there would forever be a constant reminder of that whole… it still caused her to shiver to this day. After Ron had begun staying in her bed with her at Shell Cottage, the nightmares became less frequent than before. But her past would always still taunt her, it was just a matter of when.

Ron was so wonderful then, that Hermione could hardly bear the thought of indefinitely bothering him with her incompetence whilst he and his family were going through so much. She groaned at the idea of Ron seeing this awful scar, he would surely be disgusted. I would be, she thought glumly as she scanned the rest of her body.

She chuckled at her situation. It should be incredible, really, that she could worry about such things like her below-average appearance, when not even a day ago there was a chance that she wouldn't live to judge herself in the boys' shower whilst her two favourite boys slept soundly in the other room.

After a painful wash, and some Dittany applying, Hermione dressed and made her way… somewhere. Truthfully, she didn't really know where she was going, but she let her feet carry her to the common room.

At first, she was taken aback by the busy energy of the room, which looked rather cramped with all of the current visitors. Various palettes of food could be spotted everywhere, along with large groups of people, some chatting jovially; celebrating the end of the war, no doubt. Hermione's eyes found the Weasleys, and she noted that some groups were more secluded than others.

"Hermione! We were wondering where you had gotten to!" Mrs Weasley came toward a wide-eyed Hermione, crushing her into a warm hug.

"I'm sorry to worry you, Mrs Weasley. Ron, Harry, and I were just-"

"No worries at all, my dear. Heaven knows you three need your sleep." Mrs Weasley paused and studied Hermione with a sad smile. Hermione offered a small one of her own back, wondering how the woman in front of her could still care so adoringly right now. "You must all be starving!" she stated, turning around and gathering a large tray of food.

"Oh- thank you, Mrs Weasley, but please, I-"

"Nonsense! Nonsense! It's the least I could do for you all," Mrs Weasley continued to ramble on about how the three of them had 'probably gone without a decent meal for months', but Hermione's attention was drawn by another Weasley who nudged her side.

"It's best to leave her be, she's been like this since she stopped crying - keeping herself busy," Bill explained as he watched his mother with a concerned expression.

Hermione nodded, also watching the Weasley matriarch as she mumbled to herself about all of the food she'd have to prepare for Ron and 'his awfully large appetite' when they returned home. Hermione smiled at this, although her eyes were already filling with tears. Mrs Weasley had clearly had a shift in mindset where it appeared she would express her energy through looking after others, or else Hermione imagined she'd be weeping with no restraint. Hermione didn't doubt that her state would return to that, which saddened her, but it was to be expected. None of them would ever know what she was going through.

It also made her wonder what she would do when the Weasleys returned to the Burrow. It would be an extremely fragile time for them, and Hermione just couldn't justify getting in the way whilst they needed their time to grieve. Although, where could she go? It was foolish, really. Even if it seemed far-fetched at some points that they would win, Hermione should've formulated a plan of where she could go afterwards. She supposed back to her Henley house would be the most viable option, although she could almost guarantee that the house had been broken into and ruined, despite the protective wards.

Mrs Weasley turned back around with the same smile and a tray full of food in her arms. "There you are, dear. I thought you'd might like to bring that up and share it with the boys - make sure that Ron realises it's for sharing," she emphasised, handing over the tray.

"Thank you so much," Hermione replied, receiving the heavy tray.

"Don't be silly," Mrs Weasley dismissed kindly, "I better go check on Ginny. I expect she'd like to see Harry," she mused, looking towards the girls dormitory.

Hermione smiled, before the realisation hit her that Mrs Weasley was probably wondering if she and Ron had shared a bed. Obviously, it was true, but Hermione hadn't thought about what his mother might think.

"Yes, I'll make sure he's up and showered." Hermione offered a small chuckle, although it still didn't feel right.

Mrs Weasley nodded, before heading up the stairs. Hermione followed but went up to the boys rather than the girls tower.

"Oh - hey! - ooo!" Ron swung open the door just as Hermione was nearing the dormitory, and an involuntary smile found her way to her face as she saw his eyes light up - before he even noticed the sandwiches she had with her.

"You're up?" she smirked as she came closer.

He met her halfway, taking the heavy tray from her. "Well, I was pretty, bloody shattered - still am, actually."

"Me too, but once I had woken up I realised just how badly I smelled."

"Yeah. Thanks for laying some clothes out for me before you left. How is everyone?" Hermione could tell that despite the causal nature and tone of his question, that Ron was genuinely very concerned.

"I only spoke to your mother and Bill," she admitted a little ashamedly, thinking now that she should have presented the whole family with much more care.

"How's Mum?" asked Ron nervously.

"She's… keeping herself preoccupied, is basically what Bill said. Once I had gotten down there she busied herself immediately with preparing that for us," Hermione informed, nodding at the tray in Ron's hands.

Ron sighed, "she should be resting or something, not running 'round for us lot."

"I completely agree," Hermione said sadly, wondering if she had taken advantage of Mrs Weasley.

Ron could sense her guilt straight away. "Hey, don't worry, I wasn't having a go at you. Besides, no point seeing her work go to waste now, is there?" he said lightly, grinning at the mass of food.

Hermione nodded, following him into the dorm.

"Harry's in the shower. Reckon he wants to see Ginny," said Ron as he placed the tray of food down on his dresser.

"Your mum thought Ginny would want to see him, too," Hermione replied, stepping closer to Ron and putting her arms around his shoulders. "I'm proud of you for being so grown up about that, by the way. I bet it took a lot," she said knowingly, scanning Ron's face for any sign of tears whilst she was downstairs.

"Well, 'supposed if he saved the world, he'd be… alright for Gin." Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione chuckled. "That is quite a high criteria to meet."

"Well, he did it, didn't he?" he said defeatedly. "I am happy for them 'nd all, just hope I don't have to see any of it,'' he winced.

Hermione laughed again before shaking her head at him and resting her head on his chest for a moment. "How are you?" she asked, looking up at his face closely.

He shrugged. Hermione gave him a minute to produce a more informative answer.

After waiting, she joked, "well, try not to talk both of my ears off, Ron."

"Well.. I dunno how I feel," he huffed. "Bit weird, I guess."

"That's okay, you're allowed to feel weird. Just know that you don't have to feel weird, or however you feel, alone," she promised, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him once.

"Thank you, but it's probably best you don't do things like that, wouldn't wanna get turned on whilst Harry's just there, in the showers." He smirked at Hermione's disgusted expression.

"Errugh, Ron! How could you possibly be turned on right now?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well, I do have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms." They smirked at each other before erupting into laughter at his comment.

"Oh dear, that was.."

"Awful, right?" Ron chuckled, grinning mischievously.

She nodded before stepping out of their hug to head towards the sandwiches, but Ron tugged her back by her hand.

"You know you are beautiful, though, right?" he said seriously.

She smiled and turned back to him. "Thank you," she said, before pecking him on the lips once more. "So are you," she added.

"Ugh, a bloke doesn't wanna be told he's beautiful, Hermione," Ron complained as he slumped down on his bed.

"Not bickering already, are you?" came Harry's voice as he walked into the room, towelling off his hair.

"Of course they are!" came Ginny's voice, startling Hermione who was transfiguring plates for the sandwiches. "They are Ron and Hermione, after all," she finished, walking into the middle of the dormitory, looking around the new-to-her room before her gaze settled on Harry.

"Hi," she said sheepishly. Harry returned the small greeting, and Hermione smiled as she watched them. Ron rolled his eyes, before standing up and taking interest in the sandwiches.

"D'you want to - um - y'know?" Harry scrambled awkwardly, nodding his head towards the door.

"Yes," answered Ginny, with no hesitation and the two left the dorm.

"Oh. I thought they would've liked to at least stay for something to eat," Hermione said.

"More for us," Ron shrugged, resting a hand on the lower part of Hermione's back as he leaned over her to grab a sandwich, but as he was choosing exactly which flavour sandwich he was going for, his thumb moved back and forth, caressing her back. The small action elicited a tingly feeling underneath where his hand had touched her, and Hermione smiled to herself, excited that small, soft touches between each other were allowed now, and normal.

They ate together in a comfortable silence. Hermione was only now appreciating just how hungry she was. Once they had eaten all that they could without combusting, Ron settled back down onto his bed, closing his eyes and letting out a yawn.

"Don't you want to go and see your parents?" Hermione asked. Ron was notoriously good at falling asleep quickly, but she knew he should at least go pay the others a visit, rather than hiding up here all night.

Ron groaned. Truthfully, he was feeling rather reluctant about seeing his family right now. His mind was already consumed with thoughts about Fred, to the point where he had cast a Muffliato upon his shower cubicle just so that Harry couldn't hear his sobs from the other room. He knew it was selfish, but seeing his family, having to deal with the sadness on a larger scale just felt like too much. But, he knew that his family at least deserved him to show his face. "Guess I should pop down for a bit," he finally said, pulling himself up from the bed.