June faded into July faster than anyone could have seen coming, with the foursome working Monday through Friday on clearing out Hogwarts secret passages. While it was slow-going at first, they finished early in the month and were left to enjoy the remainder of their final adolescent summer. However, with Ginny training for the quidditch season, Ron and Harry flitting back and forth between home and the Ministry for pre-training meetings, and Hermione studying for her NEWTs, the last week of July happened upon the Burrow with haste.

Harry claimed, of course, that he didn't want his birthday that year to be a big deal. It seemed too soon, really, to celebrate anything fully. Still, Mrs. Weasley couldn't let a birthday go by without some kind of to-do. So, they ended up gathered on the lawn at the Burrow: the Weasley's (including Charlie, who was still in England), Andromeda and Teddy, Hagrid, Neville, and Luna. Harry had complained privately to Hermione and Ron in the week leading up to the event about the trouble Mrs. Weasley was going to, but as Hermione sipped on firewhiskey and watched him cradle Teddy lovingly in his arms, she knew he was just fine with the final arrangement.

Despite the small crowd, it seemed to be no small affair. They dragged out two long tables and placed them in the garden, a strange callback to the year before. Dinner was, as always, delicious, some of Mrs. Weasley's best. The sun had gone down hours ago, but everyone was comfortably lit in the glow of some candles Hermione had enchanted to float above the lawn as a small callback to the Hogwarts feasts. A small wireless was situated near the lawn, a muggle station playing the latest songs at Harry's request (though Hermione suspected the request was borne solely out of his desire to not have to listen to Celestina Warbeck again.)

The group seemed to be treating the night as their unofficial celebration of the end of the war. Enough time had passed between their wounds and the present day that they could breathe a little easier and celebrate being alive.

That is, they could do that if they ignored all of the symptoms. Hermione, for one, felt as if she had not had a good night's rest since mid-June, when she happened upon George in the pantry after falling asleep on the sofa. Their new sleeping arrangements had been helpful, of course, with Harry now fairly permanently situated in Ginny's room and she in Ron's. Ron had easily gotten into the habit of soothing her whenever she would jolt awake in terror (that is, if he woke up, which was at least more than half the time). Still, the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll and she knew it.

"Is it odd that I find you more attractive when you drink?"

Ron took a seat next to her at the table, and she gave him a small smile.

"No more odd than me kissing you for suggesting we protect the house elves."

He laughed at that and took a drink of his own glass, filled with what looked like elf-made wine. "Feels off, doesn't it? Like it's been much longer than a year since we celebrated his last one."

Hermione nodded, watching over the crowd. Everyone had shifted into their own groups- Luna was talking to Hagrid about her and her father's summer vacation searching for another creature no one had heard of, Neville had joined Harry and Ginny in playing with Teddy, Andromeda was chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Bill and Fleur were catching up with Charlie.

"We've lost so many people," she said sadly. "It feels like a nightmare. Like I'll wake up tomorrow and your mum will be fixing a snitch cake for his 17th."

The focus of her vision left her and she found herself staring into nothingness as the reality of that statement washed over her. She hadn't even realized she felt that way until the words were out of her mouth. If Ron replied she didn't hear it. She turned her head back toward the Burrow, dark except for a light in a window on the second floor, shrouded by curtains. She thought she saw the fabric twitch as she gazed at the light, but figured it was likely her imagination conjuring what she wished would happen.

She and George had kept their arrangement. She would bring him dinner each night, sitting under a warming charm from Mrs. Weasley, and they would talk about nothing for a few minutes before she retreated back downstairs. While it was nothing substantial, it served to make her heart ache for the way he was hurting. She wished he would face his family, but understood why he couldn't. She could barely face them some days, and she wasn't a walking reminder of the son and brother they all lost.

She focused back on her glass at that thought, downing the remaining firewhiskey in one large gulp. The liquid burned as it went down, and she cleared her throat after she swallowed it.

"Merlin, Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked, now staring at her intently.

He was being so... Ron. Attentive and caring to the point of being overbearing at times, though she guessed he got that from his mother. Since he realized the extent of her nightmares, he rarely left her side, always checking on her with a hand or an eye. Sometimes, when they both woke in the early hours of the morning, she would see fire in his eyes. She was sure he would duel the nightmares if he could.

"Yes, I'm okay," she finally said. She watched him let out a breath she hadn't realized he was holding. "Just thinking about... everything."

"Everything," he repeated. "That's a lot. Dunno if I have the mental capacity for that."

"You've forgotten," she said with a bit of humor in her voice. "I'm Hermione Granger. I have the mental capacity for many things."

He snorted and she looked up with a smile and they locked eyes.

"Let's go on a walk?"

He stood and held out his hand, which she took. He helped her to her feet and then laced his fingers through hers. She felt a bit light on her feet, the small buzz from the liquor starting to kick in, and the sensation made her smile a bit. Ron led them through the garden, waving to their friends as they passed, and into the orchard, his hand firm and warm around hers. She sighed and leaned her head on his bicep as they walked in silence.

"Ron," she said suddenly, pulling them to a stop in the middle of the trees. He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Thank you."

"Er-" He raised his free hand and scratched the back of his neck with it. "You're welcome? Though I must admit I haven't the foggiest idea what you're thanking me for."

"For everything."

"Everything?" He took a few steps back and leaned against a nearby trunk, a grin plastered on his face. "You look like Hermione, sure, but now I'm not so certain. The Hermione I know would never give up a chance to over-explain something twice in one night. What did you tell me when I said I wished Crookshanks was with us during the battle?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, I'm trying to be serious here!"

He just looked at her, eyebrows raised now, which only made her sigh. "I said, 'Are you a wizard or not?'"

His grin widened. "Good, you can continue."

Hermione frowned a bit. "What I was trying to say was that I'm grateful for you, you prat." She stepped to him and shoved him in the chest a bit. "You've been really good to me the last three months and I... I just really appreciate it."

She looked up to meet his eyes and found them sincere; his grin was now a small, grateful smile. She took a deep breath and continued, keeping her hands where they fell on his chest.

"I've been a complete mess, it feels like. Worse than I've ever been, and you've been... well, you've been there for me every time. You let me ruin your sleep-"

"It's nothing," he interrupted. "Seriously, what's a few extra hours of sleep?"

She leveled him with a look. "Ronald Weasley? Saying he doesn't care about sleep?"

"Well," he said, placing his hands upon her own and picking one up off his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles. "I care about sleep, but I love you-" he cut himself off. She couldn't see his ears clearly in the dark, but she would have bet they were bright red. "I mean, not like that. I mean, not not like that but I just, I don't know. I've loved you forever, of course, but not like... I just... I care about you is all..."

He trailed off, and Hermione felt her chest warm at the babbling sentiment. She caught his eye again as the words died on his lips and smiled softly. "I know, Ron. I feel... exactly the same way."

He smiled back and held her gaze. She rubbed her thumb against his chest. An almost tangible glow seemed to stretch between them.

"'M gonna kiss you now," he said gruffly, and she nodded.

Their lips met softly at first, but the firewhiskey made her brave much sooner than she expected. She trailed her hands up his chest to grab at the back of his head, pulling him even closer to her. She opened her mouth to him and he eagerly responded, pushing his tongue past her lips.

They stayed like that for a few moments, but when her fingers began tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, his breath hitched. He grabbed her around the waist and spun them around, her back now pinned to the rough bark of the tree. He pulled away from her, and though her face moved to follow his, he smirked and found her jaw bone, planting light kisses there instead. Hermione hummed in contentment.

"Ron," she said, her eyes closing as his lips ghosted across her throat. She bit back a sigh.

"Hmmm?" he asked. He switched sides, and she tilted her head to allow him better access.

"Do you think your mum and dad will notice if we went around the front of the house right now?" she asked, biting down on her bottom lip.

His lips paused and he lifted his head to look at her. "Why?"

She steeled her nerves and put her hand back on his neck, pulling him down for a brief kiss, then looking him in the eye. "Because I'd like you to take me up to your room right now."

He stared at her for a moment like he wasn't quite able to process the information. She breathed heavily, not moving her eyes away from his despite the anxiety starting to bubble in her chest.

"Yeah, I reckon we could sneak away."

He grinned and kissed her quickly again, grabbing her hand and practically running out of the orchard. Instead of going out the gate, they hopped a shrub off to the side and skirted around the garden, staying out of what they hoped was both eyesight and candlelight. When they made it to the front without being stopped, they assumed they had gotten away with it.

Ron tried to stop them at the front door, pulling Hermione in for a kiss, but she shoved him back, giggling. "Your room, Ronald. Not the sitting room."

He shrugged, laughing. "Can't keep my hands off you, I guess."

She smiled at that and tugged on his arm, taking the steps two at a time up to his fifth-floor bedroom. She hadn't taken two steps inside before Ron's mouth was on her neck again, his hands around her waist as he pulled her to his chest.

Before she completely lost her mind, Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand, spelling the door shut and casting a muffliato charm on the room, then turned to face Ron. He smiled at her and she brought a hand up to trace some of the freckles on his face.

"You're wonderful, Ron."

"You are too, Hermione."

With that, he captured her lips with his again and led them to the bed.

"Ginny, I have a problem."

Hermione locked the door behind her after she burst into the younger girl's room. Ginny looked up from the parchment she was reading, not moving from her spot on the bed. Arnold was between her legs. He scurried back and forth on the old quilt, following a shower of sparks coming from a Weasley's Wizzbang Sparkler the girl had set off in the air.

"Hi Ginny, nice to see you Ginny, how are you doing Ginny?" she responded tartly, setting her parchment aside and picking up the purple pygmy puff, letting him rest on her shoulder. "You know, you've hardly spoken to me since Harry's birthday."

Hermione grimaced. It was true, she had been avoiding her friend for the past week. Mostly in an attempt to avoid admitting that she was (finally, some may say) shagging her brother.

"Hi, Gin, how are you doing?" she tried again.

Ginny snorted. "I know that look on your face, Hermione. Your brain won't hear a word I say until you talk about the issue you're having so-" she gestured to the other bed in the room, "-you might as well get on with it. We can talk about me after."

Hermione shot her a grateful look and beelined for the other twin bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again, switching her position to lay on her stomach, her legs kicked up and her head turned toward Ginny.

Bemused, Ginny said, "Comfy?"

"Quite," Hermione replied, taking a deep breath. "So, my problem is... well, it's hard to describe, I guess. I quite honestly shouldn't be having this problem at all and I did extensive research to try to combat the possibility of this being a problem but I'm still having this problem and it's bothering me. So, I need your help, and I need you not to judge me or... anyone else involved... for it."

She paused and looked at Ginny, who just stared at her expectantly. Hermione took a deep breath.

"I guess I have a question," she said, her stomach churning. She could feel her palms begin to sweat. "Have you ever had issues with Harry... um..."

She trailed off now, and this time Ginny's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "With Harry what, Hermione?"

Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, turning to bury her face in the pillow.

"WithHarrysatisfyingyou?" she finally spit out, her words jumbled and muffled. Silence fell over the room for a moment, and Hermione felt the blood rushing to her face. She counted to ten in her head and then chanced a glance at Ginny, who looked like she had been hit with a bludger and a cheering charm all at once.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, though Hermione could tell it took great effort. "I thought you just asked if I had problems with Harry satisfying me."

Hermione winced and nodded. Ginny burst with laughter.

"Are you asking me this because you finally shagged my brother?!" she yelled, and Hermione immediately went wide-eyed and bright red.

"Shush! Do you want the entire house to hear? Do you think I'd like to explain this to your mum? And don't you dare give me that look, Ginny-" she stopped as Ginny started to get a mischievous smile reminiscent of the twins. "If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, including Harry, I will tell Ron every single thing you told me about you and Harry sixth year."

Ginny actually balked at this. "You wouldn't."

"I would," Hermione said, pulling her wand out and silently casting the muffliato charm. "Though I guess I should have expected this reaction and done this earlier. I just thought you'd be grossed out."

"Oh, trust me," Ginny said, reaching up to take Arnold into her hands to pet him. "I am thoroughly disgusted that anyone would want to shag Ron, but I knew this would happen eventually."

Hermione winced a bit at that. Something she had grown to hate as she matured was her predictability.

"Very well, but you still haven't answered my question, Gin."

Ginny grinned a bit then shook her head. "I mean, unfortunately for you the answer is no, not really. Sure the first few times were a bit awkward and rushed but," she looked kind of dreamily at the wall. "You know Harry, he's bloody resourceful and selfless to a fault. We figured things out pretty quickly."

Hermione groaned, sitting up now and settling with her back against the wall, crossing her legs to face Ginny.

"This is so entirely unhelpful."

"Sorry," Ginny replied without a hint of remorse in her voice. "How bad are we talking here? Has he at least made you, you know?" She frowned a bit. "Merlin, I'm going to have to pretend we're talking about Krum or something for this conversation to be bearable at all I think. Anyway, has he made you come?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed and she wrung her hands in her lap. "I don't think so."

"So no."

"Well, isn't it different when you're... with someone?"

"Not that different."

"Right." Hermione let her head hit against the wall. "It's just, there are always all these warm feelings when we're snogging, and I want to do it, but then the minute our clothes start coming off it's like a draft has entered the room. I just feel.. weird."

"Weird isn't great," Ginny said, petting Arnold thoughtfully. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"No. But what am I supposed to say? 'Ron I care about you but you're just not quite doing it for me in the bedroom?'"

"Ew. We're pretending we're talking about Krum, remember?"

Hermione gave her a look. Ginny gave her one back.

"Anyway," Ginny said, moving past it. "I've never known you to not share your opinion on something, Hermione. Especially something as important as this."

Hermione put her face in her hands, groaning. "I just- I haven't figured out my feelings on it quite yet. When you put the pieces together, this shouldn't be happening, right? We've fancied each other for ages, we've been together for months and it's been great, and the timing seemed right." She let her hands drop to her side and stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe this is just- I don't know- how my body is. It's not like I have much experience."

"Hermione, come on, you can't logic your way out of this one."

"But-"

"But nothing!"

"But, I just... I don't want to break him," she said finally, covering her face with her hands again. She heard Ginny sigh, and suddenly the bed beside her sagged under the weight of the other girl. A hand was on her shoulder.

"You're not going to break him, Hermione. This is really not as big of a deal as you're making it seem."

She looked at Ginny out of the corner of her eye. "I'm just nervous. He's been so... enthusiastic... about how perfect we are together and how we're going to be together forever and I just don't- I don't want to hurt him."

Ginny gave her a sympathetic look, which Hermione hated.

"Well, I think it'll hurt him more if he finds out you've been keeping this from him. I know his ego can be fragile but he's a big boy, he can handle it."

"Krum, a fragile ego?" Hermione said, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. Really, though, you should talk to him."

"I'll think about it."

Something about the suggestion still didn't feel right to Hermione. While she knew open communication was crucial in relationships, especially in early stages, she was unsure where that would lead. She thought back to their conversation in the orchard in June, her held tongue when he chattered excitedly about their future he seemed so sure about. His face had spoken volumes, he had complete faith in their ability to be a couple, and she couldn't shatter that.

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if it was out of care or pity.

Ginny leaned back onto the wall beside her then, bumping their shoulders together. "Hey, I got my letter yesterday, did you get one?"

"A less formal one from McGonagall, but yes," Hermione replied, grateful for the change in subject. "Just a note with our arrangement in writing and a list of books she'd like me to procure. The letter said she'd be taking charge of our lessons herself and only calling on the other professors when necessary."

"Honestly, that sounds like your version of a wet dream, Hermione. Are you sure that isn't your issue?" Ginny asked without a hint of irony in her voice.

"Ginny!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"I'm just saying." Ginny held her hands up in surrender. "Listen, mum said Harry can be my escort to Diagon Alley for my things- I think she's worried to leave George alone- but he and Ron have meetings all this week with the auror office. Do you want to come with instead? We can nip over and grab our books and have a butterbeer at the Leaky. It'll be nice."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Sure, when were you thinking?"

"Tomorrow, if you're free."

Hermione thought of the Magicke of the Mind book sitting on Ron's bedside table. She had finished Advanced Charms and had just started delving into the large tome the day before. It was slow-going, as the majority was written in old English, which she was admittedly not well-versed in. Still, she felt she had to make it up to Ginny for avoiding her for the week. She would be starting her own position at the Ministry soon and knew, even if Ginny would deny it tooth and nail, that her friend was starting to dread being home alone until it was time to head back to Hogwarts.

"Alright, we'll pick up something for your birthday, too. My treat."

Ginny grinned.

A/N: I realized I haven't been leaving author's notes on here. My main posting space has been ao3, but as this was the first website I ever wrote and published fanfiction on (under a different account), it felt wrong not to cross-post it here too. I'm going to try to get to replying to reviews this week. Let me know what you think of the story! Love you all! 3