Author's Note: Well, here we are...the final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read, follow, favorite, and review. Your support means a lot. I hope you enjoyed the ride! :)


Chapter 20

Hermione was simultaneously filled with a sense of excitement and dread after she had accepted Ron's invitation to be his "just friends" roommate.

They had been through so much the past five years, that living together could either bring them even closer together or lead them straight off of a cliff. Hermione's daydreams revolved around running into him at midnight, both scantily clad with dark and lustful thoughts, but her nightmares were made of them getting into a row of explosive proportions. More than anything, she didn't want Ron to regret it.

In true Hermione fashion, though, she had a plan.

With Hermione leaving her current job, she didn't waste any time with researching and apartment hunting. She pulled together a list of the top wizarding flats in London with ease of muggle access, and listed out each flats pros and cons. It gave Ron and Hermione a chance to meet up almost every day to either discuss what Hermione had found, or to visit the different options.

Hermione would catch Ron staring at her every once in a while, as she detailed whether they should consider a larger kitchen or smaller living space with larger bedrooms or one of the other million benefits and drawbacks. At one point, after the staring became excessive, he owned up to it reminding him of their time at Hogwarts together. Hermione didn't mind droning on so much about the apartments after that.

After another few weeks they had finally found their perfect place. The space gave Hermione a sense of simplicity and homeliness. It didn't take long to move into the flat as Hermione had already boxed up and shrunk all of her furniture and housewares. Ron wasn't far behind.

On their first night in the apartment together, there were multiple awkward silences. Neither knew how to live together, but Hermione quickly filled in the conversation with interesting facts about the area and their plans for the following week. With as much time as she spent on finding the flat, she spent even more time devising a plan to where neither Ron nor she would run into any situations where they would row. She had mapped out their most common reasons to row, and how she would respond to ensure that they never had a disagreement.

For the next month, her plan worked perfectly. She started her new job. Ron continued with his sometimes unusual hours as an Auror. Ron always found a way to cook dinner for the two of them, oftentimes with new and even more creative dishes. Of course, he denied profusely at Weasley Family Dinners.

Hermione spent extra effort avoiding her natural nagging and controlling behavior, especially as they decorated the space. Though sometimes, there was no need to temper her responses. Running in the morning became a regular thing, and they started running together in a nearby park, albeit not as early as they used to (and purchasing extra Weasley Wizard Wheezes' pranks to leave out for Frank when necessary).

Hermione finally found the opportunity to buy him a new gleaming deep blue toothbrush and set it in the bathroom for him with a small orange bow. He hadn't mentioned it, but the next night she noticed his old toothbrush in the trash and the new blue one sitting right next to her green one.

At night, she still awoke with nightmares and Ron would always come in the moonlight to sit with her until her panicked breathing dissipated. Every so often she offered him a spot on her bed, but he never took her up on it. She could always tell, even in the shadows, his brow creased, and she would see a flicker of consideration, then he shook his head, gave her a long hug, and left.

She definitely didn't want Ron to feel uncomfortable, but living with him was having an affect on her. One that she thought she had a handle on, but it was slowly spinning out of control.

One of the biggest challenges of moving in with Ron was that there was only one bathroom. Every so often, Hermione would be sitting at the breakfast nook sipping her tea when she would catch sight of Ron leaving the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. The sight of him, dripping crimson hair, steaming muscled torso, and a glance in her direction, nearly caused her to black out.

Despite the unusually high number of cold showers she'd taken the past month, her plan was working perfectly...or so she thought.

As the following month went on, Ron had become increasingly agitated and Hermione had to work extra hard not to let her anger get the better of her. From leaving dirty dishes in the sink for far too long, to being late for planned 'roommate meetings', to rearranging furniture without consulting her. She was spending more and more time outside of work trying to keep calm. More and more time biting her tongue as he talked on and on about how much faster he was than her on their latest run.

She nearly lost her temper when he implied she should do his laundry. She was sure he had known it too. He had crossed an invisible line and she had nearly chewed him straight out of the apartment. Luckily though, she had stopped herself in time.


It was Saturday morning, and it was the perfect kind of morning too. Thick gold rays streamed through the window. Everything was quiet, with a few birds singing outside. Waking up with the sunrise had become one of her favorite Saturday morning rituals. She curled up cozily on the sofa with the knit blanket Mrs. Weasley had knitted them as a special housewarming gift.

Hermione took a sip of her tea and set the cup back down on the end table. She flipped the page in her most recent purchase from Flourish & Blotts, The International Regulators Guide on Modern Prison Systems. Her job had been going better than ever, but she was also busier than ever. Just the way she liked it.

After a few minutes in peaceful silence she heard a few fumbles from Ron's room. This peaked her interest as Ron was never up this early on a Saturday.

Hermione was just about to return back to her reading when she heard Ron's door fly open. He grumbled his way around the corner to the bathroom without glancing in her direction. Then, a few minutes later, Ron flung that door open as well.

He didn't say a word to Hermione as he trudged begrudgingly into the kitchen.

"Aguamenti" Ron gruffed as he filled his water glass. She couldn't see his face as the cabinetry between the living space and kitchen blocked her view, but she could see his taught stomach and his athletic arm lifting the glass up, and downing its entire contents.

For a moment she almost called to him, but decided better of it. He had been in this edgy state for weeks and it seemed to be boiling over. If she did anything, or said the wrong thing even with the right intentions, he might realize that this wasn't working. That they wouldn't work. Maybe that's what he already recognized. Her fingers tensed against her book at the thought.

Hermione pretended like she was reading, intentionally acting as nonchalant as she possibly could as she took another small sip of her tea.

As if the noise of her teacup sliding against the end table alerted Ron to her presence, he let out a frustrated growl and abruptly clapped his glass down on the kitchen counter. He continued to stay there for what felt like ages, until she saw him fling his arms up out of the corner of her eye and stomp into the living room.

She flipped her eyes back to her book, pretending not to have noticed him. She could feel his hot gaze staring at her.

"Umm...morning Ron." Her eyes slowly drew up from his flannel pajama pants, gliding lustfully over his bare torso and to his face, currently contorted in a deep scowl. He let out a throaty mirthful noise as if she had said something offensive.

"Are you okay?" She asked cautiously, keeping her face neutral.

"No, Hermione. I'm not okay." He spat out, his voice rising.

Hermione wasn't sure where this was coming from. She quickly recounted in her mind any moments in time over the past few weeks that she could have rubbed him the wrong way, and she was still drawing a blank.

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, Ron began pacing back and forth as if having an internal battle with himself. Hermione stood up, still holding her book. Her blanket fell off, forming a ripple of goosebumps across her bare legs. Her shorts and t-shirt didn't stand up well to the brisk morning.

Ron glanced over at her stopping momentarily, then threw his hands up and began pacing again.

"Is it something I did?" Hermione stepped forward. If she had upset him, then finding out the reason was the best way to head it off. There was still hope for them, right? They hadn't just missed the boat? Passed their time? Hermione held her breath.

He stopped and looked at her.

"No, it is not something you are doing, it is something you are not doing, and I can't take it anymore." He said shrilly as he went back to pacing.

"Ron, I...I'm sorry, whatever I did...or didn't. I'm sure I can fix it." She hurried, getting more concerned by the second.

"Arrghhh!" Ron yelled. "There you go again!"

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, her face now turning red. She had worked so diligently to keep her raging inner dragon at bay. His hot and cold behavior, snide comments, they'd all started wearing on her, and she felt the heat rising.

"I don't know how to do this, Hermione. I just can't." He said, as though arguing more with himself. "I'm not good at sharing my feelings. Never have been."

Hermione's shoulders were set, and she forced herself to remain silent as he continued.

"I figured if I just waited it would work itself out, and that the truth would come out, but it hasn't. Two fucking months and we haven't had a row once. Not once!" He said shrilly, glaring at her.

"Excuse me, are you screaming at me right now because we haven't had a fight?" She felt her hands start to shake.

"Now she gets it!?" He blurted to the invisible audience. "I literally demanded that you do my laundry last night and still...nothing. How am I supposed to-" Ron stopped short.

"How are you supposed to what, Ron?" Hermione spat back, livid. She could feel the smoke coming out of her ears. Was he serious? She had swallowed so many rude comments from him, adolescent behavior, and now here he was yelling at her for it?

Ron stared at her as if he had suddenly gone too far.

"Well, Ron. You wanted a row. Now you've got one. What am I doing that is so bloody awful?"

"Argh." Ron yelled again, clawing his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know how to do THIS!" He shouted, motioning between the two of them. "We always row and row and row, and then somehow end up snogging senseless. I've been waiting a whole bloody month and nothing!"

Hermione froze. She was sure she had heard him incorrectly. Maybe she had been paying too much attention to his oh so muscular shoulders. Did he say snogging?

"Let me get this straight." Hermione hissed. "You've been riling me up all month, vying for a row?"

"And it bloody still isn't working! The one thing I thought I could always do." He said annoyed.

"Oh, you've done it, Ronald. I am going to hex you into next week for this!" Hermione threw her book onto the floor.

Hermione brought her fists up and squared her body in a fighting position.

Ron's eyes widened. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"You're going down Ron." She said, edging forward giving him fair warning that if he wanted a fight, he was going to get one.

"You can't be serious?" He tried to hide a chuckle.

"Deadly." She was hoping the scowl on her face and threatening fists looked more intimidating to him than her purple shorts and orange shirt, with her fuzzy slipper socks pulled up above her ankles.

Hermione didn't wait another minute. She sent a punch his way. He slid his body sideways, easily sidestepping it.

"I'm not going to fight you, Hermione." He grinned as he backed up a step.

"Well, then you are in for an arse whooping!" Hermione barked back.

"Did you just say arse whooping?" Ron laughed out loud, retreating around the room as she chased after him.

"Get back here." She screeched as he around the cabinetry dividing the kitchen from the living space.

"I'm not fighting you." He returned with his gleeful smile as they squared off in the kitchen. Both were crouched, Hermione ready to pounce, Ron ready to slide around her.

Hermione darted at him, grabbing his arm. Ron was fast, and got past most of her, but wasn't fast enough.

"Ouch!" He whined as she grabbed a hold of him from behind. She used all her strength to pull him down to his knees. Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough to pin him down, and instead he lifted her up and hauled her on his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and legs around his back and tried to shimmy him down on the ground.

"You're like a bloody Orangutan!" He screeched as he tried to pry her off.

"I'm serious Ron, I'm going to kill you!" Her warrior cry suddenly made Ron nervous, and he tried to detach her bony fingers from around his neck.

Making a quick decision, Ron lumbered into his bedroom and fell backwards onto the bed. Ron felt the wind go out of Hermione behind him as he rolled off next to her and took a relieved breath. Unfortunately, Hermione's reflexes were fast and before Ron realized it, she had managed to crawl atop of him.

Ron was still catching his breath as she climbed over him straddling his chest and holding his arms down on either side of his head. He didn't try to fight back, he just stared at her in amazement.

"Don't you think for one second that I am going to kiss you, Ronald Weasley." Hermione sneered at him, but he seemed to be in an entirely different world than her.

He remained still as she tried to figure out her next move. She wanted to destroy him for his adolescent behavior, but at the same time, there was another feeling growing deep in her stomach. The feel of him under her had re-ignited a deep longing and desire that she had tried to keep dampened these past months.

Rather than respond, in one quick move, Ron flipped Hermione over onto her back, and was now pinning her down, and leaning against her chest so she couldn't move. His firm body leaned atop of hers enough to keep her comfortable, whilst simultaneously sending the message that there was no escape. Every inch of his body was hard, and she felt a blush begin to creep up the back her neck. His aquamarine eyes filled with things she couldn't describe. She could see every freckle on his face in intense detail. Every one of her senses was heightened.

She tried to wriggle free in the first few moments, but not nearly enough to give Ron the impression she wanted to leave their precarious position. Then the room became quiet. So quiet that the only thing either of them could hear was the pounding of the others heart.

He leaned forward so his nose was inches from hers. Hermione could feel the heat of his breath on her as he looked intensely at her from inches away. It had been so long since they had been this close. It felt like thousands of years of anticipation and desire all rolled into this one moment.

Then, with the magnetic force that always took over when they were this close, his mouth was on hers. His soft lips pressed down, causing her body to relax and tense at the same time. It was as if his touch and his taste were some sort of drug that brought her to a sense of perfect clarity. They belonged together. Their lips were made to please each other.

She gave a slight moan as he ran his tongue along her lips, asking for permission to enter. She parted them just slightly, and he slipped in, massaging her tongue with his.

His hands slowly slid from her wrists up and intertwined with her fingers. His chest pressed forward into hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Hermione's heart pounded as he ran butterfly kisses down her jawline and sucked at her neck.

"Gods, Mione." Ron breathed by her ear. "I missed you."

Hermione struggled to respond. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, and how addictively he invaded all her senses.

Her body had been in such a deficit of his touch and his love that it felt overwhelming. Something she couldn't get enough of.

"I missed you too, Ron." She breathed, absorbing every ounce of his love.

"But…" she barely got out.

Ron pulled away and looked at her with concerned eyes. "But…?"

Hermione gave Ron a secret smile. "But there better be a lot more where this came from. You've got a solid month of bad behavior to make up for Ronald Weasley."

Ron's concern instantly vanished and he relaxed into her again, tracing kisses down her collar bone.

"You know, I think I've got a few ways to make that up to you." He said untangling his fingers from hers, sliding it down her arm, down the side of her waist and landing at her exposed hip, flicking the hem of her pajama shorts.

Then, as if a ferocious animal had come to life within him, his mouth was on hers again. This time faster, harder, and more intense. It felt as if the time for games and slow tenderness had ended. Now the only thing that replaced it was an intense desire to get as close as possible to him. For them to meld into one.


"Ron, it's too early." Hermione whined as she pulled the comforter over her head.

"We used to get up this early every day, Hermione. Quit complaining and get your arse out of my bed."

A year had gone by in the blink of an eye. From the row on, it felt as if their relationship went from a weird sepia to the most vibrant colors of the rainbow. They had red hot days of fighting that always led to screaming, crashing of dishware then snogging on the breakfast table, to dozing off in the evening on the sofa. She had found her home base, and so had he.

It was as if a switch had flicked on, and their communication, while still loud at times, was better than ever. Ron no longer worried about sleeping together at night, he no longer stopped himself before sharing his feelings, and every part of Hermione's life became more confident.

Ron pulled the covers off of the bed and onto the floor.

"Rooon." Hermione shrieked, curling her legs into the oversize Chudley Cannons shirt for warmth.

"I said get uuuup." Ron complained, grabbing her ankle and dragging her to the end of the bed.

"I'm going to kill you." She squealed as he grabbed her and pulled her up.

"Now get dressed, it's time to go." Ron said, ignoring her empty threats. She gave a big yawn and stretched and trudged over to the drawer to pull out a pair of leggings, a t-shirt and a sweatshirt.

"Where are we going?" She grumbled. Ron was already fully dressed and waiting for her.

"You'll see." He answered shortly.

Hermione yawned and pulled a sweatshirt over her head, and tied her wild hair in a messy bun with tendrils flying out.

After a quick trip to the bathroom and a few sips of water, she turned to Ron who had been unusually quiet.

"Okay, Ron. I'm ready."

"Good." Ron said simply, as he walked up to her and grabbed her hands. She looked at him curiously.

"Where are we-?" Hermione didn't have a chance to ask the question as they were immediately transported to a new destination.

She knew instantly where they had landed. The waves washing up onto the shore was a noise that was etched in her heart. The thick salty air and cold breeze reminded her of freedom and new starts.

"Shell Cottage?" Hermione asked, unsure of why she was here so early in the morning, though not terribly disappointed as the sunrise was ready to break through the barrier of night.

Ron pulled out a blanket from his bag and laid it down. Then, he grabbed her hand and dragged her down to sit with him.

"What's going on?"

"Can't I just watch a sunrise with you?" He asked sharply, though there was an undertone in his voice that she couldn't place. Was it...did he seem nervous?

"Okay…" She said slowly, curling up under his arm.

They sat in silence for another ten minutes as the sky transformed from a dark indigo to what looks liked strokes of brilliant gold flames across the sky.

Ron broke the silence.

"It's been a year, Mione. A year today since we sat on this beach and looked at the sunrise."

Hermione blinked. How had she not known that? Had it really been a year to the day? Hermione nodded into his chest as she continued to watch the sky transform.

"I wasn't ready then." He said softly.

Hermione didn't say anything, but shifted and scooted enough so she could turn and look at his face. He looked deeply in her eyes, and she knew there was something there trying to get out.

"But even then," he said with his deep voice, "I knew we'd end up here. Knew we'd end up together."

Hermione crawled on his lap, facing him, and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Me too, Ron." She said, kissing his nose. "Wait, end up here?" She asked, confused.

"Yeah." His baritone voice rumbling.

He shifted a little and brought up a closed fist in between them. Hermione leaned back slightly looking at the closed fist that stood in front of them. She glanced up at Ron, confused, then back down at his fist. He was holding something.

As he opened his palm and picked the item up between his fingers, Hermione let out a gasp.

"Ron." She breathed, grabbing her heart. "What are you doing?"

Suddenly, her throat went dry. Her body tensed, and she was terrified.

"Hermione, this past year has been the best of my entire life." He started.

"No." She tried to stop, she wasn't ready. She hadn't had time to prepare or make a plan to share her feelings. He had just woken her up from a perfectly good dream, to bring her into an even more terrifying and exhilarating one.

Ron gave her a loving smile and continued. "Even before, I knew that you were my one. You have always been my one."

Hermione felt the tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She could feel Ron shaking beneath her, or was she the one shaking? She couldn't tell.

Hermione looked down at the ring Ron held between them. It was now light enough outside that he could make it out clearly. It was a classy and understated ring, with the most intense sapphire sitting at the center, lined with miniature diamonds along the side. It wasn't extravagant, but it had a stunning magnetism. Hermione didn't dare touch it.

"What are you saying, Ron?" Hermione whispered, unsure of what to do with herself. Of all the things in her life, the one thing she had never been, was speechless.

"I got this a week before I left for the Auror Academy." He said slowly. "And, even after we broke up, I just knew I should keep it. Even after everything, it was the thing that kept me going. Kept me believing that we would end up together one day."

She looked him in the eye again and could see clearly that every word he spoke was coming straight from his heart. This was Ron speaking his truth.

"I don't know what's going to happen, Hermione." He breathed shakily. "But I do know that we can handle anything if we are a team. If you are here with me."

His eyes started to tear up as they continued. "Mione, I love you more and more every day, if that's even possible, and I want you to be my partner, forever. Will you marry me?"

Hermione's breath stopped in her throat as she looked at his shimmering eyes in the morning light.

She wanted to give him pages and pages of explanation of how much she loved him and what their relationship meant to her. She wanted to scream and cry and jump around. But all she managed to do was stay stock still as he watched her closely.

"Yes, Ron, of course." She breathed, looking down at the ring.

Then, he slowly slid the ring along her ring finger until it stopped at its final destination. It fit perfectly and they both stared at it in silence.

Then, she looked up at him, his face plastered with a brilliant smile, the only thing competing with it was hers.

"Ronald Weasley, I love you and I can't wait to marry you." She barely got out before she wrapped her arms around his neck and crashed her lips into his.

He let out a guttural oomf as they fell backwards on the blanket. They continued on, kissing and rolling around and kissing some more as the sun rose high into the sky.

A new day had officially begun.