The Burrow has been much too quiet. It is unsettling, and everyone moves through the house like we are the ghosts our minds are constantly haunted by.

Mrs Weasley has been too upset to do anything since we came here. Apart when we first arrived and she went to go make everyone a cup of tea. The kettle hadn't even boiled before she dissolved into heart wrenching sobs in the kitchen. Mr Weasley held her before gently coaxing her to come upstairs with him, all the while tears fell down his cheeks. I counted how many cups Mrs Weasley had taken out for tea, which totalled ten. There were only nine of us in the house, and I knew she had accidentally taken one out for Fred.

After that I tried my best to care for everyone. The routine of cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner along with keeping the house reasonably clean was familiar and grounding. The motions helped keep me sane.

Most of the Weasleys had kept themselves to their rooms over the past week. Ron, however, had spent his time with me and Harry. We still did not like to be separated and the only times we did were when Harry would go to try and comfort Ginny or when we went to bed.

Harry and Ron were currently sitting at the kitchen table behind me, chatting quietly. Their conversation felt slightly forced, as did any topic of conversation we had that wasn't about the war, but I knew they too were trying to get themselves back into reality.

I dried my last plate and then sat down next to Ron. He grabs my hand and squeezes gently. He does these small gestures regularly now, but each time they are a surprise. I would never have suspected Ron to be the sort of boy to so casually and comfortably show his affections. When he does these gestures it gives me hope, that amidst all our grief Ron could still give me butterflies.

It is after dinner, and the usual routine is for Harry to go see Ginny, while Ron and I go to his room.

Harry sighs and I expect him to say he is going upstairs, but what comes next surprises me.

"I just want you two to know, I owe you my life, many times over. I wouldn't have made it this year without you, I wouldn't have even made it past first year. You are my best friends, and I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Harry, you don't need to…" I begin, but he interrupts me.

"Yes, I do, I just wanted you two to know how I felt." And with that he stands and leaves the room, and I hear his gentle tread going up the stairs. Harry has never been one for expressing his feelings, but I had always been aware of the gratitude he felt to us even though he owed us no thanks. But I am still touched by his small speech.

Ron, still holding my hand then leads me out the kitchen and to his room. This is my worst part of the day, even worse than the nightmares that plague my dreams. Ron has tried to be so strong, but he can't hold it in forever, and it is only when we are alone that he sheds his tears.

The first evening was the most awful, and I held him in my arms as sobs racked his entire body.

We have reached his room, and he turns to me, tears already shining in his eyes. But this time they don't fall, instead he grasps my face in his hands and kisses me roughly.

I was not anticipating this. Sure we have kissed since returning to the Burrow, but not like this. We have been shy and tentative as we test the barriers of our friendship and turn it into something new.

But now Ron kisses me with the same urgency I displayed in the Room of Requirement. His hands have now left my face and one is lightly gripping my hair at the base of my neck while the other hooks round the small of my back and pulls me closer. I respond just as eagerly, one of my arms wrapped across his shoulder blades and then my other hand slides round his waist and slips into his backside pocket which I use to pull him nearer and reduce the distance between us even more.

Ron slowly leads us over to the bed, not once leaving my lips to see where he is going. He gently lowers me down before resting his body softly on top of mine. His kisses become slower and his lips occasionally leave mine but only to trail light caresses down my neck. One of my hands is on his head, my fingers wrapped in his soft red hair, and the other is holding on to his broad back, pulling him closer to me ever still.

And as abruptly as the kiss began, Ron stops. He lays his head on my chest and sighs deeply.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he says, "it's going so fast."

"I'm not surprised, I was just in the middle of quite a passionate kiss with my boyfriend." I say, also slightly embarrassed by the breathlessness of my reply.

Ron looks up and gives me the most heart stopping smile. His eyes light up as he beams at me and I can tell he's rather pleased with himself with my reaction.

A slight blush colour Ron's cheeks as he says "I've been wanting to do that all day, but it didn't really seem appropriate to just pounce on you in front of Harry, sorry if it was a bit unexpected."

"No, no, I'm not complaining, I respond, causing another huge grin and small chuckle from Ron.

It has been too long since I have seen him like this, and just the sight of his genuine smile lets me know that everything is going to be alright.

He continues to lie on me while I draw senseless patterns on his back. His breathing is deep and slow and I wonder if he has fallen asleep. I can see the sun beginning to set through the window, causing the room to be set in a golden haze.

"Thank you for everything, Hermione. Without you my family would have fallen apart these last couple of days. You've been incredible, and I can't even begin to explain how you have helped me," Ron suddenly speaks through the silence and his voice is choked up with emotion, I don't need to look down to know his eyes will have welled up with tears again.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be right now, you don't need to thank me," I tell him.

A small pause and then he asks "Have you cried yet?"

I know he hadn't meant it as an insult but it somehow hits me like one.

"No, I haven't," I bluntly answer.

To him crying is a sign of weakness, so the fact I haven't will be a mark of bravery and courage in his eyes. And I have wondered to myself why I haven't cried, usually the slightest thing would set me off, and now I have been to hell and back the tears won't come. I promised myself after the battle I would be strong and look after everyone. So days later and I'm still numb. Most of the time I feel like an empty broken shell of the Hermione I once was.

Ron continues with his gentle prodding and says "I asked Ginny to keep an eye on you at night, she says she can hear you mumbling and shouting out in your dreams, and when you aren't doing that she says you just toss and turn for hours so she knows you're not sleeping well."

"Well if Ginny knows all that then it's obvious she's not sleeping well either, which isn't surprising for any of us." This comes out slightly sharper than I would have meant it, but I don't want Ron exploring my mind to see how I'm feeling, because I'm scared of opening up what's inside.

"I know, but I'm worried about you," he says with concern evident in his voice, "you spend so much time looking after the rest of us that there's none left to look after yourself."

"You don't need to worry about me, I'm fine," is all I say.

And that ends the conversation, I can tell there is more Ron wants to say but he is scared to push me. And there are things I want to admit but I'm afraid I won't be able to put myself back together again if I were to pull down the walls I had so shakily built up.

So we lay together, in silence, in the growing darkness, as the sun goes down.