Ron had taken to waking up earlier than anyone these days. He told everyone he was still used to waking up early to keep watch over the campsite, but really, he just enjoyed the quiet.
Fred had always tortured him when they were kids, but he was his brother, and no matter how angry he got, Ron knew it had always been in the spirit of fun. Fred knew that Ron had never really been mad at him. Didn't he?
He looked out the front window and started remembering all the times he and his brothers had played out there. Remembering hurt, but he felt he had to do it. It was his responsibility to remember Fred. Wasn't it?
His attention was caught when a figure magically appeared outside the gate. It took him a moment to realize it was Hermione walking down the path.
His thoughts strayed back to the battle, as it did all too often these days. Hermione had left the very next day to look for her parents. Ron had still been mourning with his family. He didn't know if he would stop mourning, but that first day had left the entire Weasley family in tears.
He found himself opening the door for her before she had gotten past the garage where their old Fort Anglia had stayed. She looked up into his eyes and paused a moment. Wind was raging outside, making it unusually chilly for a summer's day. He watched it blow around the frizz in Hermione's hair.
He let her in silently. She didn't say a word, but kept looking up at him. "Did you find them?" Ron asked.
Hermione nodded, "They're safely home, memories restored. They were quite angry when they found out what I had done, but of course they were glad I had come out alive." She gave a half-smile, "They said the next time I go out on a world-saving adventure, they'll go to Australia themselves, but they want memories of-" her smile faltered, "of their baby to stay."
Ron found he was still holding the door open, and so he turned around to close it. "How is—everyone?" she asked.
Ron did not turn around to face her, but said, "not good."
"I'm sorry."
Ron turned around and looked her in the eyes. He had not properly looked in them since-since that night. When they kissed.
What if it was you who died in that battle? A voice in the back of his head asked him, Or her? What if you never got the chance to tell her?
I already told her He thought to the voice, We kissed.
She kissed you, mate the voice responded, in a moment of fear and desperation, at that. What if you never told her and you lost her forever?
"Hermione." He did not know exactly what he was about to say, but knew he had to say it, before he lost his nerve. "I should have told you the moment I realized, and every day afterwards. I've known ever since—well, ever since the Yule Ball. Before that, I think I still knew it, but I was too young to know what it meant." She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he couldn't let her, or he would never tell her, "I love you, Hermione."
The wind blew open the door, and he had to push it closed again. The cold air that suddenly came into the room seemed to give him a pat on the back.
He turned back around and found that Hermione was much closer than she had been. She was looking up at him, unsure of what to do, unsure if she might hurt him more. But her love could never hurt him.
He almost unconsciously put his arms around her. His touch seemed to give her encouragement. "I love you too. I think I always have, I've just been too stubborn to realize." He looked so deep into her eyes he thought he might fall in. He bent down and gently kissed her.
This was not like their first kiss. While the first kiss had been more of a burst of passion, this was calm and cool and Ron knew exactly what he was doing.
He pulled away from her just as gently as he had kissed her. For the first since Fred's death, he smiled. She returned it.
Thanks, Fred He thought