A/N: long chapter ahead, although it's very eventful. Plus, towards the end of the chapter, it gets a lil mature. So if that ain't yo thing, please avoid it. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 32 - A long day

Tuesday evening, 10 o'clock

"I just don't fucking get it, Hermione," fumed Ron. "They did nothing. Nothing, apart from merrily watching on the sidelines while you were being bloody tortured! How could you even consider letting them go free?"

Hermione had followed Ron out to the garden after he left in a heightened temper. Tears threatened in her eyes, so she hastily blinked them away. The sensation of blinking made Hermione realise just how exhausted she still was after the day they had, her eyes stinging with the weariness she felt.

She had had enough of this day. She wished for it to be over. And yet, here she was, outside with Ron at around ten o'clock, looking into his icy eyes as he almost seethed with anger.

Tuesday morning, 7 o'clock

Hermione groaned with disappointment and confusion as she rolled across the bed in her half-asleep state, noting that Ron had already gotten up. She was surprised to find him missing from the bed, especially after their… activities, last night, she thought with a smirk. They hadn't done anything more than what they had tried before, but it was still one of the most pleasurable experiences in Hermione's life, even if admitting it made her quite shy.

The warm feeling that accompanied the memory of Ron's hands, mouth and well, everything, really, contrasted with the cold she felt from waking up to an empty bed, so Hermione decided it was better to get up. After swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, and pulling on Ron's t-shirt that he had obviously unceremoniously threw onto the bed once he had woken up, Hermione noticed a note that had been left on his bedside table.

It was a wonder that she could pinpoint anything in the midst of Ron's cluttered bedside table. We should really sort this room out before we leave, Hermione thought to herself. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she thought about where they'd be by the end of the week.

Sunday morning, as she and Ron were sitting up in bed, talking about nothing really in particular as they lay lazily in each other's arms, Ron had suggested that they talk to his dad about Australia this week. Hermione was quick to dispute this; reassuring Ron that if he needed more time with his family, she would completely understand. In fact, Hermione had even given it another go of suggesting that she go across the globe alone, but Ron, as expected, wasn't having any of it.

After the two went back and forth about how much more time Ron needed with his family, they resolved that they would go together, but not until the end of the week.

So, Sunday afternoon was spent planning the journey to Australia, with the help of Arthur, of course. At the time of casting the memory charm, Hermione ensured that she wouldn't know the exact address of her parents, but only the city in which she had sent them to. Ten months later, she still stuck by her decision; it was the safest option at the time. But, it did mean that now she and Ron had the pleasure of scouting a city with a population of three million, for just two, quite indistinct people.

The only lead they had was that Hermione knew they'd still be working in the dental profession. However, the daunting thought of the amount of potential dental practises they could be working in slightly deflated her optimism. She supposed that it was helpful that Australia had Medicare, a service that could be argued as the equivalent to the UK's NHS. So, when in Sydney, it would be easier to locate her parents. Although, Hermione didn't think that that would be all too possible without confounding someone along the way. But, she didn't let herself think about all that could go wrong. They needed to stay positive.

Mr Weasley was more than happy to help, and was only wary of the wizarding borders being closed soon, in order to stop any remaining Death Eaters from escaping the country. He promised to speak to Kingsley about the matter when he returned to work the next day, as did Percy, who was incredibly eager to help, too. Hermione knew he was still trying to prove how regretful he was, so she accepted his help gratefully.

Mrs Weasley, however, was slightly more sceptical than her husband on the matter. She seemed to be in two minds about the whole affair. On one hand, the matriarch expressed compassion for Hermione wanting to find her parents and tell them everything. And on the other, she expressed her apprehension for allowing both she and Ron to travel across the world, alone.

Ron was very quick to argue that both he and Hermione were of age, and that after the year they had endured, they could more than take on going to Australia. Hermione sighed at his insensitivity; she was hardly surprised that Mrs Weasley had her anxieties about the prospect of one of her sons leaving, at the moment. Especially so, when said son had left for months without even saying goodbye, albeit the latter part unintentional.

Thankfully, Mrs Weasley's compassionate side won out, and even though she still wasn't ecstatic about the idea, Hermione was incredibly grateful for her support. The whole of Monday, Hermione waited excited yet nervously for Mr Weasley, ensuring that she wasn't too far from the kitchen or the living room around the time that he usually arrived home from work.

Hermione tried not to be too deflated when Mr Weasley digressed that Kingsley was unavailable until the following morning; the new minister was incredibly busy, fresh after the war. Hermione understood, and it really did only mean another day of waiting, but now that she was so close to reuniting with her parents, another day felt like another year.

Ron had noticed, and even expressed disappointment, himself. The thought of him brought Hermione back to the scrap of parchment that she had found. It read:

Good morning, gorgeous

I'm sorry I'm not there, George woke me up at 6 to go check on the shop with him, and I didn't want to wake you. I'll explain more later. Don't worry, I won't find myself in another pub.

Love, Ron.

Hermione smiled down at the scraggly handwriting. She had no idea why George wanted to visit the shop so early on a random Tuesday morning, and she even questioned whether it would be too soon for him to return to where he not only worked with, but lived with his twin. Hermione was pleased, at least, that Ron had joined him.

Deciding that there wasn't much to do in Ron's bed without Ron, Hermione gathered some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, in dire need of a shower.

Once her truly ruthless hair was sufficiently dry, and she had gotten dressed, Hermione went downstairs to investigate who else was awake. What she was taken aback to find, however, was both Weasley parents, Percy, Harry, and Ginny sitting around the kitchen table. They all wore somewhat concerned expressions, which only became more emphasised when Hermione walked into the room.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs Weasley welcomed her in by ushering her closer to the table.

"Good morning, Mrs Weasley. Is everything alright? Do you all know where Ron and George have gone? Because Ron left me a note," Hermione said hastily, feeling silly for not ensuring straight away that the other Weasleys knew where two of them had gone.

"No, no, we know about the boys, don't worry about that," Mrs Weasley reassured, but looked hesitant to say whatever she was going to next.

Hermione wanted to ask why Mr Weasley and Percy weren't at work, but she didn't want to seem cheeky. Soon, her confusions were resolved.

"Hermione, I got a chance to speak to Kingsley this morning," Mr Weasley began.

Her nerves began to rise at the sombre tone that Mr Weasley had adopted, but she tried to think positively. "That's brilliant. What did he say?"

"Well, he said that portkeys would be quite easily attainable, especially for you and Ron. But, he was also quite surprised that you were planning to go so soon, after not having replied to St Mungo's."

A wave of confusion hit Hermione. "St Mungo's?" she repeated. "Reply to St Mungo's? But, I haven't visited the hospital or anything since the war."

Mr Weasley raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "You received a letter, apparently," he said, seeming as confused as Hermione felt.

"I haven't received a letter, I'm sure of it," she said with certainty. How would she miss such an important letter?

"That's alright. I have a new one here for you anyway." He passed Hermione an envelope that had been sitting in his coat pocket.

"How did Kingsley know that I had a letter from St Mungos?" she asked curiously. Hermione, of course, wasn't stupid. She knew what must be in that letter, especially if she was the only one to receive one. But the questions ringing in her head like an alarm were, how did they know? And what was the worry? And if or not Kingsley told them, which would incredibly anger Hermione.

"Well, he didn't tell me too much on that front. But, if you didn't know, the Ministry is bringing in and questioning hundreds of Death Eaters and followers of… Voldemort." The name still seemed difficult for him to say, understandably. "The Malfoys' case is being dealt with with rigorous care. Lucius was sent to Azkaban within a matter of hours. But both Narcissa and Draco are being detained for questioning on a number of things. And, well, one matter seemed to involve you, and Kingsley felt the need to alarm St Mungo's immediately after what the two had confessed, under veritaserum."

Hermione shut her eyes to try and fathom what was happening. She became more aware of the letter in her hands. There was only one thing it could entail. But she was fine; she had recovered. It was with this in mind that she opened the letter, but before taking out the parchment from the envelope, she realised that there were a series of worried faces watching her. She resolutely avoided Harry's gaze, mostly of all.

Ideally, she'd never have to retell the story again in her life. But, Hermione felt that if anyone deserved to know, it was the Weasleys. "I-" she began nervously, her mind racing with all of the different ways she could approach this subject. "It really isn't as bad as you may think, I promise. I suppose that St Mungo's just want to make sure that I've recovered well," she dismissed.

"Recovered from what, Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.

Hermione hesitated as she met the younger girl's concerned eyes. She licked her lips, looking back down at the opened envelope in her hands. "I'll just open the letter first, then I can properly explain," she said, knowing that her mind was too consumed with what may be held in the letter. She brought the letter out and unfolded it, scanning over the addresses and date, her focus finding the main body of the letter.

But she wished she hadn't.

Hopeless tears pooled in her eyes as she read and re-read the final two paragraphs. How could she have been so delusional? Sitting down in the nearest chair she could, Hermione took a deep and shuddery breath.

Ginny came and sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's arm. The confusion was still evident in her eyes, but Ginny could tell that Hermione was distressed, so didn't probe.

"Hermione, are you-"

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione softly smiled at her best friend.

Although, as much as she sincerely appreciated both Ginny and Harry, Hermione wished that Ron was there to support her. But, he wasn't, so she had to pluck up the courage to do it on her own.

The four Weasleys all wore shocked and saddened expressions as Hermione retold the whole story; everything. She even rolled up the sleeve of her jumper, showcasing the scar. Once she had finished, everyone sat in silence, out of sadness, and also fear. They were each thinking the same thing, Hermione could tell. Both Mrs Weasley and Percy had silent tears running down their cheeks. They were all speechless, so remained silent as Hermione's mind ran to the worst.

Neville's poor parents were a heartbreaking example of what happened when the cruciatus curse was performed all too many times upon you. It had never occurred to Hermione that she could still suffer from the affects, so long after. But the letter before her proved her wrong. She tried to think rationally - the letter only asked that she go in for a common psychological exam, performed by a Mind Healer, before they could go any further. But, Hermione thought incredulously, was there any further? If her mind had been… ruined, then there was no further. It would just be that. She would never be the same again.

Ron was confused, to say the least, that George had asked him to visit the shop at such an hour, but he didn't object. Ron felt closer than ever to his older brother. The whole of his life, it was very rare for Ron to catch his older twin brothers in a serious mood. Even in the recent, dark years, the twins had been a source of light heartedness that people desperately needed. Which was what made walking into the shop, now, so difficult.

The visit was initially eerie, and of course, sad. Thoroughly sad. Every inch of this shop was evidence of the twins' hard work. And now the twins would never be the twins, again. It was George. Forever.

George had only wanted to briefly check over everything, but what was meant to be a short trip transpired into a few hours. George took one look at Fred's room in their above-the-shop flat and broke down. Ron consoled him as George was knelt down, sobbing into his hands. A steady flow of tears streamed down Ron's face as he placed a supportive hand on his brother's back. George needed Ron, and Ron would do anything he could from now on.

The brothers didn't speak of what had happened as they walked back through Diagon Alley. In fact, George seemed to brighten ever so slightly as Ron instigated a casual conversation about Quidditch, of all things. They even popped into a shop and bought a range of croissants and pan au chocolats for the family, especially since that would definitely soften the blow of their mother when she found out that they had disappeared at a strange hour of the morning, leaving only a non-descriptive note in their wake. For the second time in a week.

By the time the brothers returned, they had fallen into quite an easy conversation. George asked Ron about Australia, which induced a wave of guilt to crash over Ron, as he thought about leaving his brother for Merlin knew how long. But, he had to go and help Hermione. She was just as much his priority now.

They eventually made their way back home, and stepped into the house.

"We bought-" but the cheery words died in his throat, as Ron watched a full table of saddened faces turn to him and George. His eyes finally rested on his girlfriend, her displayed forearm answering any questions he had. He put down the shopping bags that he was carrying, before walking over to Hermione. Kneeling beside her chair, he threw his arms around her, Hermione similarly crashing into his embrace, her sobs muffled by his shoulder.

Ron looked around the table again, noting that his mother and brother were crying, too. Ginny passed Ron a letter, which he read perplexedly, still holding onto Hermione as he did so. Once he finished the letter, however, Ron could feel his heart in his throat. He held Hermione tighter, as for the second time today, a stream of tears flowed down his face.

He nodded gratefully at his family as they began to file out, offering him and Hermione some space and privacy. The two held each other for a long time, Ron only moving to gently kiss Hermione on the side of her head.

After another while, Ron slowly leant back to look at Hermione's face. Caressing her cheek, Ron asked, "when do you want to go?", referring to the medical tests she had been referred for.

"As soon as possible," she answered in a small voice.

"Let's go, then," he said, standing up and taking Hermione's hand. "We're gonna head down to St Mungo's," Ron informed his mother, who was sitting in the living room, a worried expression seemingly fixed to her face.

"Okay, dears. Is there anything I can do?" Mrs Weasley asked, standing up and walking towards Hermione and Ron, who were standing in the fireplace, Ron with a handful of Floo powder in his hold.

Ron looked towards Hermione before answering for the both of them, "no, thanks, mum, we'll be back in a bit."

"Take your time, take your time," were the last words that Hermione heard as she felt the familiar queasy sensation of travelling by floo. Although it was very possible that her fear was what was making her feel sick to her stomach.

Hermione's mind was all over the place. She could hardly do much more than allow the warm hand holding hers to guide her through the hospital foyer. She didn't have to do anything as Ron spoke to the receptionist, whose words Hermione could hardly concentrate on. With her hands still trembling, Hermione signed the form that she was presented with, before the same warm hand led her to wherever her appointment would take place.

Once they entered through the Psychological ward of the hospital, they were told to wait before a Mind Healer could take Hermione in for a test. They sat in notably uncomfy chairs, although the physical discomfort was nothing compared to how Hermione was feeling internally.

"Everything'll be alright," Ron assured, being able to guess what was racing through Hermione's mind.

She turned to him, offering a small smile. "You don't know that, Ron. I couldn't even tell you how many times I was put under the cruciatus, it's impossible that I'd come off perfectly well."

"It's not as if you came off scot-free, Hermione," Ron said softly, wrapping an arm around her.

"I know. But, we-we must be prepared for the worst, right?" she said, although Hermione was quite sure that she couldn't feel her legs at the moment.

Ron didn't answer. For one, he had no idea what 'the worst' could be. He wouldn't dare let his mind think of the likes of the Longbottoms; whose lives were irreversibly different. He simply couldn't live in a world where Hermione was, as they often described, suffering a fate worse than death. Ron wouldn't let himself think that far, he needed to be there for Hermione.

"You'll be okay," he said quietly, pulling her closer.

Hermione couldn't respond.

There was no way of gauging how much time had passed, until suddenly a Healer stepped through the double doors that Ron had been absently watching.

"Miss Granger?" the Healer, a woman with tied back, black hair asked.

They both stood, and the Healer offered a smile. "We're ready for you now, Miss Granger. I'm sorry to inform you that visitors are not allowed, for the sake of confidentiality," she said, before walking back through the double doors.

Ron sighed heavily through his nose, trying his hardest not to express his frustration. He turned to face Hermione, the fear in her eyes encouraging a tingly feeling in his nose, but he persisted to stay strong.

"You ready?" he asked hopelessly.

Hermione nodded. "I love you." The statement was sudden, but Ron understood her approach.

"I love you, too. I'll be here after, waiting for you, okay?" he reassured, brushing the hair out of her face.

Hermione nodded again, new tears forming in her eyes. Ron hugged her once more, before letting her go, watching as she nervously pushed one of the doors open.

Hermione walked wearily down the blank corridor. That seemed to be a recurring theme at hospitals: white, empty walls. Hermione wondered how anyone could fare, living permanently inside the bleak walls. Nothing to do but stare at the shocking white colour until you went insane all over again.

There was only one door down the whole of the hallway, which she found rather curious. She knocked on the door, hearing the same woman's voice that had greeted her in the waiting area a few minutes before. The first thing Hermione could notice, upon entering the room, was a giant machine, which she could identify as an MRI scanner. She knew that muggle hospitals often used them, but was surprised to find one at St Mungo's.

"Hello, Hermione. Please, have a seat." The Healer motioned to an empty chair, which Hermione gratefully sat in; her legs already weak.

"I'm Healer Phillips, although please feel free to refer to me as 'Louise'. I think that using last names is far too formal, don't you?"

Hermione nodded absently at Louise's attempt of levity, but she couldn't say that it had reached the desired effect. Louise explained to Hermione the basics of how an MRI scan worked, and that she didn't have to complete it today, that they could arrange a later date. Hermione shook her head at this; she was happy to get it over with. The Healer handed another consent form to Hermione, who read over everything before signing her name at the bottom.

And then, the process began. What Hermione considered regular procedures happened, such as having her blood pressure taken. Then, she was injected with what Louise explained was contrast dye, which was used in order to help certain blood tissues and vessels show up more clearly from the scan. She was then asked another series of questions, before being asked to take any jewellery that she may be wearing off.

And then, she was lying down in the machine, staring up at the ceiling of the scanner, which was only inches away from Hermione's face. And so, the scan began.

Ron wished that he had never listened to that bloody Healer. Or at least argue that he be there for Hermione. He felt useless, sitting impatiently in the empty waiting room. He didn't have much of an idea of how long the test would last, but had no intention of going back home. His appetite from earlier had vanished, and his initial exhaustion from waking up so early was also long forgotten.

He rubbed his face with his hands, exercising every inch of concentration into thinking optimistically. But how could he? Ron didn't know much about the cruciatus curse, and Neville had understandably never touched too much upon the subject. To Ron, at least. Maybe Neville's parents weren't impacted straight away. Maybe it was a gradual process; an idea that Ron hadn't even thought of. All he could remember thinking on the night of Hermione's torturing, was the glee he felt when Fleur had told him she would be okay. Obviously, none of them really had a clue. He knew that they should've gone to St Mungo's straight away. Sod the war.

After what felt like days of waiting, Ron could suddenly hear footsteps pierce the deafening silence. He jumped up right away, holding his breath. That breath was only released once he saw Hermione's face, her beaming smile making him thank every lucky star.

Hermione practically ran to Ron, throwing her arms around his neck, unable to contain her excitement. "I'm okay," she said whilst hugging him, confirming what he had promised her before she went in.

"Thank fuck," Ron chuckled, holding her so tightly that he was becoming worried she could breathe. But he couldn't help it.

They finally released each other, smiling like idiots as Hermione explained the MRI scan. "Healer Phillips just warned that I'm still recovering from such an attack, and to expect my energy to diplinish quicker than usual. But, apart from that, I'm fine!" Hermione announced relievedly, as they walked back through the hospital, hand in hand.

"I said that would be the case. Maybe I should become a Healer myself," he teased.

"Oh, yes, I really couldn't recommend anyone more qualified," Hermione scoffed as they stepped into the lift.

Once the doors to the lift had closed, and it was established that they were alone, Ron pulled Hermione to him, his lips finding hers before she could protest - not that she had any protestations.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled away, feeling the lift coming to a halt.

"I missed you this morning," he explained, keeping his arm around her waist as they left the lift

"I missed you, too. Hang on, did George come into your room to get you?"

"Yeah," Ron shrugged.

Hermione's cheeks instantly flushed. "Ron!" she swatted him. "I-" she looked around them before whispering, "I wasn't wearing a top when we fell asleep last night, if you remember."

Ron's eyes widened, but a smirk was also quick to appear on his face at the thought of a topless Hermione in his bed. Unluckily, she could tell that that's where his mind had wandered to. "Unbelievable," she rolled her eyes, essentially dragging him the rest of the way down the corridor.

"Ron? Ron Weasley?" They both paused as someone called Ron's name, although neither could recognise the voice.

"Yes?" Ron asked hesitantly, he and Hermione turning around to find a blonde woman, who looked a similar age to his mum. She was dressed very well, although looked quite tired and worn.

"Hello," she said, offering her hand out to Ron. Ron shook it, although was still unable to identify the woman before him. "Mrs Brown," she introduced herself. Both Ron and Hermione's hearts fell to their stomach.

"Oh, of course," Ron lied. He had never met Lavender's parents, despite her nagging wish to. Merlin's balls. How many other Mrs Browns could there be.

"Lavender Brown's mother," she further clarified, although it was more pointed towards Hermione. "You must be Hermione."

"Y-yes," Hermione replied. "Mrs Brown, we are so incredibly sorry to hear about Lavender. How is she?"

"She's made quite a speedy recovery, actually. They released her today," she answered cheerfully, eliciting smiles from both Ron and Hermione.

"That's brilliant! Are you leaving to go home now?" Hermione asked conversationally, understanding why Lavender's mother was in such a pleasant mood with herself and Ron. If Hermione was Mrs Brown, she couldn't believe that she'd be very happy to see either Ron or Hermione after hearing Lavender's side of the story.

"Yes, yes. Lavender's just popped to the loo. Oh, I'm sure she'd be happy to see some friends from school, she's been terribly bored during her stay." Both Hermione and Ron felt guilty for being referred to as Lavender's 'friends' from school. Hermione was beginning to wonder if Lavender had told her mother everything about her and Ron's breakup.

Before either of them could answer Mrs Brown, Lavender appeared from around the corner, her expression forming into one of surprise to see Ron and Hermione stood there, with her mother. Although, she didn't look at all sour about it.

Hermione immediately released Ron's hand as Lavender approached. If Lavender did know about her and Ron, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was emphasise the fact that they were in a relationship together.

"Ron? Hermione? What are you doing here?" Lavender asked as she reached the three of them. She looked quite well, Hermione was glad to see.

Hermione could see, out of the corner of her eye, that Ron was looking to her for the answer. "Oh, um, nothing really." Hermione hoped that neither Lavender or her mother would focus on her evasive answer. "We're so glad to see that you're recovering, Lavender," she added.

"Thank you, I suppose I'm quite lucky in a sense, it could've been much worse."

Hermione smiled at her humble response. "Well, I'm going to sign you out, Lavender. You can stay here and chat with your friends, if you like," Mrs Brown suggested. Again, both Ron and Hermione felt a pang of guilt at the term.

"Okay, mum." Hermione tried to ignore the awkwardness that was beginning to settle between the three of them, but she similarly didn't know what to say.

"We're really sorry about what happened to you, Lavender. It was so brave of you to stay and fight," Ron said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, it was alright," she dismissed. "I'm better now, aren't I? So, how long have you two been a we?" Her voice, to Hermione's pleasant surprise, carried no malice, only curiosity. It reminded Hermione exactly of the gossip-loving Lavender that she had grown up with.

They both blushed, "only for about two weeks? If that?" Ron answered unsurely. Hermione would've rolled her eyes at his lack of care to remember such an important date, but as she thought about it, she couldn't really pinpoint a moment where their relationship had begun. Technically, it was the night that Ron had asked her to be his girlfriend - the thought still making her smile - but, they acted as a couple long before that.

"That's lovely. Well, I'm really happy for you both," Lavender said, smiling at them.

"Thank you," they both responded, Hermione feeling guilty for underestimating Lavender's maturity.

"Well, I better be off, before my mum comes back for me herself," Lavender rolled her eyes, Ron and Hermione offering an awkward chuckle.

"Wait, um, Lavender. I hope you know that I'm sor-"

"Don't, Ron. Don't worry, it's in the past. Plus, you and Hermione are much better for each other than we ever were. As long as she can cope with your terrible jokes," Lavender smirked, as she began to slowly walk away.

"Oi, you were laughing at the time!" Ron joked back, Hermione smiling as she watched them be able to share a laugh over something which caused everyone so much grief two years ago.

Lavender chuckled, before adding, "I suppose. If anything, he was a good kisser," she winked to Hermione, before disappearing around the corner again.

Hermione smirked and raised an eyebrow at Ron, whose cheeks had become rather red. "Let's go, I've never much liked hospitals," she said, resuming their walk back down the corridor.

Ron laced his fingers with hers almost the second they began walking again, and Hermione smiled up at him.

The rest of the afternoon passed quite jovially. Everyone was over the moon with relief when Hermione and Ron had returned to the Burrow. After a late lunch, the pair retreated back up to Ron's room, feeling emotionally drained after the fright of Hermione's hospital visit.

"It was nice of Lavender to say what she did," Hermione thought aloud, stroking Ron's hair. They were lying down on his bed, Ron resting his head on Hermione's chest, as he lay on his belly beside her.

"What, about me being a great kisser?" he teased, earning him an eye roll from Hermione. "No, it was nice," he added seriously. "Maybe she didn't actually feel as much for me as we worried."

"Yes, she did seem as though she had moved past it a long time ago. In fact, she looked hardly even bothered to see you-"

"I think we get it," Ron smirked, catching onto Hermione's goal.

She grinned, before another silence settled over them.

"Ron? Hermione?"

Hermione woke up abruptly, to knocking on the door. "Yes?" she answered, rubbing her eyes. She hadn't intended on taking a nap.

"The Minister's here for you," Percy called from the other side of the door.

Hermione's eyebrows sloped from confusion. "Oh-okay, we'll be there in a minute. Thank you, Percy," she shouted back, sitting up on her elbows. "Ron?" She tried to pat Ron on the shoulder in order to wake him, but he hardly moved.

"Ron!" She tried again, slightly shaking him by the shoulder. Ron only groaned in response, the arm that was draped over Hermione's stomach gripping her tighter. "Are you always going to be this difficult to wake up?" she chuckled, trying to move him off of her so at least she could leave the bed.

After calling his name even louder again, Hermione finally started to watch Ron's eyelids flutter open. "What?" he asked, frustrated from being woken up.

"What a lovely way to talk to your girlfriend," she mocked.

Ron groaned again, before sitting up. But before Hermione could get her hopes up, Ron, albeit gently, pushed her back down to the bed, lying more of his weight on top of her. "I want to sleep, not talk," he grumbled into her hair.

Hermione laughed at him, but the thought of a busy Kingsley Shacklebolt downstairs waiting for them encouraged her to persevere. "Come on, Ron. Kingley wants to see us."

"Why?" he whined. "It's late."

"It's really not," Hermione countered, using Ron's watch to tell the time. "It's only eight o'clock." Although, she was shocked by how long they had napped for.

"That's late enough," he mumbled sleepily.

"At least let me go down there," Hermione suggested, but Ron just shook his head. "Ron, you don't need me here to be asleep," she chuckled again, but he still made no effort to move.

She was about to nag at him again, when Hermione felt his lips on her neck. "Ron." She rolled her eyes, but a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips before she could do anything else.

"Stay," he pleaded, continuing to kiss up her neck and throat.

As much as Hermione was enjoying this, she was far too aware of the people down there waiting for her. And the thought of one of them coming up to get them again, was enough to help her remain focused.

She allowed Ron's lips to reach hers, deepening the kiss almost as soon as their mouths touched as a distraction to roll them over so she was on top of him. Hermione then ran her hands down his arms, finding his own hands to link their fingers, all while their lips remained locked. But, before Ron could realise anything, Hermione pinned his hands above his head and swiftly moved off of him, making her way to the door hastily, before he could trap her again.

Ron blew out a breath defeatedly as he realised her ulterior motive. "Hurry up," she smirked, before leaving his room, smoothing down her hair and clothes.

As she made her way downstairs, Hermione could hear the deep voice of Kingsley from the living room. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Minister," Hermione said as she entered the room, sitting down on a sofa opposite him. Harry was in the room, too, as was Mrs Weasley.

"No worries, Hermione. And please, call me Kingsley." He smiled at her. "I take it that everything went well today," he added.

"Oh, yes. It gave us a bit of a fright, but it's all okay now," Hermione replied, wondering what Kingsley wanted.

"Is Ron coming?" he asked, before the sound of Ron's heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs answered his question.

"Hey, Kingsley," said Ron nonchalantly, stepping through the living room and sitting beside Hermione. She could smell that he had reapplied his aftershave before coming down, and tried hard not to think about how much power even his scent had over her.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Mrs Weasley said, before leaving the living room.

"Hi, Ron. Well, thank you all for coming. I know it's quite late in the evening-" Hermione could see Ron, in her peripheral vision, holding a hand to his mouth. She knew all too well that he was trying to hold back a laugh, and even she was fighting a smile. Fortunately, Kingsley didn't notice. "-but I just have a series of questions to ask you about an event that happened while you were on the run."

The three of them understood immediately, and any trace of humour had vanished from both Ron and Hermione's faces. Both Harry and Ron looked to Hermione.

"I understand that it's quite a sensitive topic, which is why I thought it was best to have this conversation here, rather than at the Ministry. And, instead of bringing along a detective, I came alone. But, are you all okay with discussing it so soon? I wouldn't ask you to, if it wasn't necessary to this particular case," Kingsley further explained.

Hermione took a deep breath. She supposed she didn't have a choice, really, did she? "Okay, that's fine," she smiled, ignoring the fact that Ron was watching her closely.

And so, it began. Kingsley explained how busy the Wizengamot were at the moment, questioning Death Eaters and exploring each case thoroughly, in order to ensure the wizarding world was as safe as they could make it. For the last few days, the Malfoys had been a close focus. Hermione and Harry had known this much from Mr Weasley, but Ron didn't.

"So, Hermione, this leads me to your involvement. Harry and Ron, you were both witnesses. So, I ask for complete honesty," Kingsley asked, before diving into another wave of questions about Narcissa and Draco on that night.

It didn't take terribly long. Hermione could tell Ron was becoming quite agitated, she knew that if the Malfoys were ever to run into Ron in the future, they should look out. Eventually, Kingsley reached the matter of whether or not Hermione would press charges. They could be taken to court on the grounds of acting as an accessory to the crime which Bellatrix had committed. Hermione was also informed that Draco was more than likely going to be sent to prison for conspiracy to murder Dumbledore, but his charges could be increased if she did choose to press charges.

Ron scoffed beside her, as if the answer was obvious. Initially, she felt the same. But, as Hermione thought about it, she realised that it would just be easier not to. If she had chosen to press charges, then she dreaded to think how many times she'd have to stand in front of a court, reliving the night over and over. She couldn't do that again.

"Harry, Ron, could I ask that you leave the room for Hermione's answer, just so there isn't any chance of external pressure. The boys nodded before standing up and leaving, Ron squeezing Hermione's hand quickly before following Harry to the kitchen.

"I don't want to press charges," Hermione stated.

"Are you sure?" Kingsley asked. "I can give you more time."

Hermione shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm happy with my decision," she said, and Kingsley nodded.

"Okay. Well, it's getting rather late. Thank you for your time, everyone. I'll see you soon," Kingsley smiled, before seeing himself out.

Hermione entered the kitchen wearily, knowing exactly how Ron would react. As expected, both him and Harry looked at her imploringly.

"I didn't press charges." Ron's face contorted into one of disbelief, but before he could even begin, Hermione tried to prevent it: "before you say anything, let me explain."

"Explain what, Hermione?" he snapped. "How could you let them walk free?"

"Ron, you know they're never going to be truly free. You heard what Kingsley said, Draco will be charged for conspiracy to murder, anyway." But that did nothing to abate his angry and confused expression.

"I think you did the best thing." As much as Hermione appreciated Harry's support, it was awfully timed. Ron looked at him as if he had gone completely insane.

"Are you mental? Harry, you were there! You know what fucking happened, they just stood there like fucking statues! They let the whole thing happen in front of their faces!" Ron fumed.

"Ron, can we please talk about this properly?" Hermione pleaded. This is exactly why she didn't press charges. She just wanted to forget the whole thing.

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione confusedly. "Am I missing something? You're telling me that you both are happy to let the fuckers free? They should be locked up for life!"

"I'm just trying to support Hermione," Harry tried, but this only made Ron even more angry.

"Support? How is supporting Hermione allowing this to slide as if they're decent people. I can't fucking believe this," he exclaimed, moving through the kitchen and leaving through the backdoor.

Tuesday, 10 o'clock (from where we left off)

"Ron, I know it seems unjust. But, please let me explain. It was my decision after all, I didn't make it lightly," she pressed, the last thing she wanted was an explosive argument.

Ron just looked at her, waiting for her explanation. Hermione looked back towards the house. "Do you want to go a bit further into the garden? A bit more privacy?" she suggested, not wanting another Weasley involved, as much as she loved them all.

"Fine," he conceded, leading them to a tree which was far enough away. Ron slid down the trunk, sitting with his legs bent and his feet planted to the floor. Hermione sat beside him, her legs crossed as they both looked toward the darkness.

"I know that they're both extremely terrible people, Ron, but I just can't do it." Ron remained quiet. "I could only imagine the amount of trials and questions and statements, and I really couldn't see the point."

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione interrupted him. "Sorry, I should rephrase. I don't mean to say that it would be pointless, I know that it was extremely serious. But, I just don't want the hassle of going over that experience a hundred times again. Today, there was a possibility that I was going to be… permanently damaged from what had happened. And to be honest, I think it will forever haunt me. I just don't want to worsen that any more for myself," she finished.

"I get that, I do," Ron said softly. "And I'm sorry for dragging it out, but it just baffles me. You.. you could've-"

"I know," Hermione interjected, taking his hand.

"-and they didn't do anything. They would've just let it happen. I-" his voice was becoming strained, and he felt like a ponce for nearly crying. But it was insane to Ron. If he ever saw the Malfoys again, he'd fucking wreck them, no question. The least they deserved was a few years in Azkaban for what they let happen to Hermione.

"I know," Hermione repeated, shifting closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "And you have no idea how much I admire the way you care, Ron. But, I just don't want to focus on such a horrible event anymore. I just want to move on, with you," she added.

Ron nodded. "I love you so much," he said, pressing a kiss to the hand he was holding.

Hermione wrapped an arm around his. "I love you, too," she said, and sighed. "Goodness, it's been a rather strange day, hasn't it?"

"Yep," Ron sighed, lying his legs out in front of him and slightly tilting to face her. "I reckon you owe me a cuddle after earlier, though," he smirked.

"Oh, you were trying to cuddle me, were you?" Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "It seemed more like you were using me as your own personal mattress."

"Well, you make a great mattress," he grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes, before pressing her lips to his. She had meant for it to be a relatively short and sweet kiss, but soon enough one kiss became a series of feverish snogs, tongues quickly finding each other.

The way they were sat offered quite an awkward position, so Ron had soon pulled Hermione onto his lap, his back leaning against the trunk of the tree.

Their kisses only became more heated, and before long Hermione was unbuttoning Ron's shirt, as he began to kiss her neck. He managed to find quite a sensitive part of skin under her ear, eliciting a moan from Hermione.

"You know, it's quite hard to concentrate as you do that," she sighed pleasantly, fumbling with the rest of his buttons.

"Would you like me to stop?" he asked in a husky voice, his tongue curling around Hermione's earlobe.

"If you do, I think you'll find that you quite regret it," she assured him, somehow managing to finish his buttons and slide his shirt off his shoulders.

Ron chuckled into her neck, before his own hands found the hem of her top, and pulled it up and over her head. Their mouths fused together again, Hermione shivering with excitement as Ron ran his fingertips up and down her bare back, every so often lingering at her bra strap, but never trying to undo it, much to Hermione's disappointment.

She became frustrated, and took matters into her own hands by reaching around for the clasp. "Are you sure, Hermione?" Ron asked against her lips as he realised what she was doing. "We're outside," he reminded her.

"It's not as if anyone's going to come out," she reasoned, feeling the night's chill hit her newly naked chest.

Ron's mouth latched onto her neck again, his open-mouthed kisses moving lower and lower. "Reckon we should conjure up a blanket?" he suggested, his mouth moving tantalisingly close to her breast.

She nodded, although it was awfully difficult to think of performing magic through the cloud of desire in her head. Reluctantly, Hermione pushed against his chest lightly. There was no way she could perform any type of spell with that wonderful mouth of his attached to her skin. She fumbled for her wand, and as quickly as she could, conjured a red throw that landed on the forest floor behind her.

Ron, with his arms wrapped around Hermione's waist, lowered her to lie on the blanket, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her. With his free hand, he delicately traced her jawline, watching her face as though he were studying it in preparation for an exam. "You're beautiful," he almost whispered, and Hermione's stomach flipped, as it so often did when Ron was near.

Believe it or not, Hermione Granger couldn't find words as she watched him watch her. His gaze followed his finger, which made a path from her jaw to her neck, then to her chest, and lightly ran down the valley of her breasts. Hermione's breath hitched, the sound seemingly bringing Ron back to earth.

He lowered his head down for his lips to meet hers, although his mouth soon found its way to her neck again, before moving further down towards where his finger had stopped. His tongue ran over the subtle curve of her breast, and Hermione moaned. She writhed under him as his mouth continued its work. After giving much attention to both of her breasts, in the forms of licking, sucking, and even slightly nipping at the skin, Ron was on the move again.

Kisses were being trailed down her torso and stomach, before he stopped at her jeans. He began unbuttoning them, and Hermione's breathing grew more erratic as she awaited what she delightfully knew was coming. Soon, her jeans had been pushed down her legs, and by also toeing off her shoes and socks, Hermione kicked her trousers away. Ron began placing gentle kisses on the inside of her thigh, which he enjoyed to so teasingly do.

Hermione was powerless as she lay back, all of her strength going into not squirming so chaotically from his touch.

Thankfully, Ron finally pulled off Hermione's knickers, looking up at her beforehand to wait for a nod of consent. He wasted no more time, his hand finding one spot, his mouth finding another. Soon, Hermione was moaning and whining incoherent sounds and sometimes even his name, as a low pressure in her stomach began to build.

She had to keep her hips from rising off the blanket, her hands tugging at Ron's hair. It wasn't long before she cried out as a signal of her finishing. Ron gripped her waist as Hermione rode out her orgasm, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he made his way back up her body.

Even though Hermione had just finished, she wasn't done with Ron. She didn't know why this felt like the perfect moment, maybe it was the exhaustive events of the rollercoaster of a day they had, but Hermione knew that she didn't want to wait any longer.

So, she reached for Ron's belt, but he looked up at her questioningly. "Hermione-" he began warily, but Hermione didn't let him finish.

"I want to," she said in reassurance, although he didn't look all too convinced.

"But, Hermione, we're in the middle of the woods, on a blanket, you deserve to have a better first time than that," he maintained, moving to get up, but Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist in protest.

She shook her head. "I think it's perfect, Ron. It's a lovely night, there'll be no interruptions. And besides, as long as it's with you, I'm really not too bothered what the setting is like," she sighed. "I want you," she said firmly.

"Are you a hundred percent sure, Hermione?" Ron asked, reaching in his back pocket for his wand, in order to cast the contraceptive charm.

"It's terribly cliche, but I've never been so sure of anything," she promised, caressing his cheek.

Ron kissed her once, before sitting back on his heels. He quickly performed the charm, and Hermione knew he was successful, as she felt the effects in her lower stomach. She raised a curious eyebrow at him as he lowered himself back on his elbows.

"You don't go without learning the charm as the youngest brother of six," he explained.

"I bet it was from Percy," Hermione joked as Ron toed off his own shoes and socks.

"Oh, yeah, always talking about sex and stuff, me and Perce," Ron replied, earning a laugh from Hermione.

"I love you," she said, as Ron had finished with his socks and shoes and was now looking intently into her eyes.

"I love you, too," he replied. Hermione found his belt and undid it, doing the same with his trousers, which he wriggled off. She then returned her arms around his shoulders.

"You ready?" he asked in a low voice, and Hermione nodded in response. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he told her, before kissing her gently. Hermione tried not to gasp as she felt the tip of him at her entrance, trying to focus on his lips rather than think of all of the books she had read which had warned that the first time could hurt for girls.

He entered her fully, and Hermione had to admit that it was rather painful; it was definitely a sensation that she had never encountered before, but, it wasn't as horrific as she had read examples of. Thankfully. Amidst the initial pain, she was also shocked at the feeling of something filling her so wholly.

Ron groaned with pleasure into her mouth, and Hermione couldn't help but grin. "You okay?" he asked.

"Never better," she replied. "But don't go too fast."

Ron nodded, his head moving to the crook of her neck as he began to find a rhythm. Each time he thrust into her, the pain subsided more and more, and before too long, Hermione was crying out in pure euphoria as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back.

Ron understood the hint, and began moving faster, his own pants and groans colliding in the air with hers. "Fucking hell, you feel incredible," he panted out, as they were both coming very close.

Hermione could feel herself clamping down around him, and shouted his name as she reached her second climax of the night. Ron followed soon after, groaning out Hermione's name as he spilled into her.

For an indeterminable amount of time, they lay on the blanket, Ron's face still resting in the crook of Hermione's neck. "I'll move off of you in a sec," he said, kissing her shoulder, but Hermione shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, I like the feel of you."

Eventually, they detangled each other from themselves, and conjured another blanket to fall on top of them, covering their sweaty bodies. Ron was now on his back, Hermione tucked into his side, her leg draped over his, and her head and hand on his chest. Ron had his arm wrapped around her back, as they watched the stars through tired eyes.

"That was-"

"-brilliant," Ron finished for her.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "We probably shouldn't fall asleep out here, but it is rather comfy."

"What's the harm?" Ron asked, his eyes drooping closed.

Hermione could've argued that if anyone found them they'd be done for, but found she was frankly too at peace to care right now.

So there they stayed.

A/N2 - Not chuffffed with this chapter, but I wrote and re-wrote it so many times that I was just like, I'm never gonna get better than this, so I hope you enjoyed.