2

It had only been one day since it happened. Although the burrow wasn't fully up to scratch in terms of neatness, no one expected Molly Weasley to nag the kids about it. George was taking Fred's death extremely hard. She couldn't imagine what it was like losing the person who completed you. But she knew she'd feel the same way if she had lost him. Despite there being no chores, or any other business to do urgently, it was like everyone else was determined to keep them apart. Harry for one, was becoming very clingy. She realised that he felt as if his purpose had gone. There was nothing more to fight, nothing to survive. All he had to do was live and enjoy. And unfortunately, he wasn't very experienced in that. That's why it was 4:30 in the afternoon and truthful, rule-abiding, sincere Hermione was going to fib.

She found Ron and Harry in their bedroom, talking about Quidditch. Of course. She stuck her head through the door, mostly because she didn't want to give anything away.

"Ron? Your mum wants to talk to you." She smiled at both of them and quickly stepped away from the door, waiting for him to come out. She heard him say something to Harry. She realised she was getting the fidgets just standing there. And she wondered when on earth she had started getting the fidgets while waiting for her best friend. She knew the answer before she had asked the question: when he stopped being her best friend.

When he came out and shut the door, he didn't have a chance to say anything before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the broom closet at the end of the hallway.

"What the-?"

She locked the door and stood there breathless. She was innocent, and intelligent and totally in love. When she turned around she got a surprise; he was much closer than she'd expected.

"Bloody hell, Hermione…" he breathed. And she got goose bumps, because if she moved her face one inch closer: they would be kissing.

"I heard something about you talking in your sleep today?" she smirked questioningly, determined to play this her way. Nothing would distract her, not his touch or his voice. Or that little twitch in his lips.

"Yeah well… you see, this girl I really liked ran off with Viktor Krum." He shrugged, but she noticed a little red in his ears

"I doubt that would happen…" she smiled, then questioned, "You really like this girl?"

She hadn't noticed his hands on her waist, holding her close. "Nah," he said, grinning at her sudden disappointed expression, then whispered, "I love her."

She froze. Every smart and witty comment flew aut the window at that moment. He loved her. She jumped up and kissed him so hard that he had to hold her there just to make sure he wouldn't fall over. She swung her legs around his hips and his arms wrapped even tighter around her. His muscles surprised her. She knew he had them but not like this. Her hands got lost in his bright red hair and she wondered how she had gone 6 years without doing this. Both involuntarily pulling apart at the same moment, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Who are you? And what have you done with Hermione Granger?" he joked as he gently put her down to stand independently.

She gave him a look that she was sure she had never given ianyone before and spoke in a voice that didn't sound like her. "She fell in love."

He grinned and kissed her nose, "Right. She should do that more often."

A noise came from outside, sounded like Harry and Ginny. They were looking for them. He took her hand and opened the door of the closet. Luckily they had already moved to the second story. But she knew they would have to tell them some day. Some day soon. How would they react, she wondered. Harry already sort of knew. How would everyone else react?

"Ron? Hermione?" Molly Weasley's voice carried through the hall as she appear at the bototm of the stairs. They quickly let go of each other's hands and went downstairs, wondering when they could be alone next.

"My my, Your friends have been looking for you… Hermione, dear, why are you so out of breath?" And she was… She struggled to come up with a quick excuse because the nature of their actions in the closet was distracting her. If they were left alone for a whole day, what would they do?

"She was chasing me around. Apparently I need to clean my room." Ron said lazily. Only she recognised a hint of mischeviousness in his voice. She realised that you could actually see the muscles she had previously felt, through his shirt.

"Oh… yes. Really, that room…. You can't find anything in there. In fact, I bet that's where my Hogwarts: A History is. I haven't been able to find it all morning." Her words made her grimace inwardly. Here she was pretending to be a bookish, innocent girl, when just a second ago her thoughts were anything but innocent.

"Hermione, while I fully agree with you." Mrs. Weasley eyes sparkled, once again hoping the organised girl would have at least some influence on her family. "I was hoping you and Ron could go talk to George."

Ron looked at his mother as if she'd just asked him to go and find another Horcrux.

"Mum. I don't -"

"Are you sure that's wise, Mrs. Weasley? Are you sure he's ready."

Molly's eyes glistened with tears, as they had many times that day, threatening to fall. Hermione couldn't imagine what it would be like losing a son. But she didn't think she'd ever want to find out. Molly grabbed her hand and Ron's hand, and looked down as though looking at them was too hurtful. That was probably right.

"Listen. I know my boys. He's never gonna be ready if he's not forced to be. All my sons need at little encouragement from someone." The statement rang true in both of their ears, but with a different tune than that of Molly's, who continued, "Apart from Fred, George was closest to you Ron. And you, Hermione, will at least make sure they don't kill each other."

"Okay." They both replied at the same time, stealing a sideways glance at eachother before smiling bravely. Gryffindor, right?

"Thank you. I would, you know…" Mrs. Weasley pulled a large handkerchief and blew her nose, "but I just… I can't."

Ron stepped forward, Hermione was sure his eyes glistened too. He wrapped his arms around his mother. "I know, mum. It's alright." He whispered.

It had just hit her in fact, how ungrieveing they had all acted these last two days. As many people were crammed into the burrow as was magically possible. Each and every one of them had lost at least one person. Yet, she and Ginny had discussed good-looking wizards twice at least. As she was sure the boys did with Quidditch. Apart from George, who had locked himself in his and Fred's room. Playing with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Everyone else, it seemed, was two scared to cry. The people they hadn't been mentioned, but once, when it wasn't yet sure who was and who wasn't… She thought, maybe, they hadn't yet gotten their head around the fact that it was all over. That there would be no explosion during dinner time, taking even more loved ones. She understood their fear, though. For she too, was ready to pull out her wand any second. Any second she wasn't kissing Ron, that is. When she was doing that, nothing else bothered her. Nothing else mattered.