Author's Note: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, but I own parts of this plot. It's loosely based on Deathly Hallows, but I am excluding the epilogue.

------------------------------------The Head's Shared Quarters--------------------------------------

After the mind-boggling kiss shared between them, Ron and Hermione felt completely exhausted. It was as if their bodies had stored only enough energy to create this wonderful connection between them. After all of the power that poured from the "Chosen One's" best friends, after all of the love that spread between them, the two had collapsed onto the ground.
What had happened the moment their lips met was inexplicable, or so they thought. Once every ounce of magic between them had created an odd surrounding power. Once their limp and passed out bodies had nearly hit the ground from sheer fatigue, two large branches from the caged willow reached out to catch them in their fall. As the branches bent to fit their bodies, they also lifted the two unconscious teens, higher and higher, through a dimly lit window in a tower resting over a finally free Hogwarts.

The castle was nowhere near quiet, quite the contrary actually. With the defeat of Voldermort and the knowledge of a free world, the students who were still there were carefree and ready to celebrate the triumph they had been waiting for since they were born. Even with all of the raucous below, Ron and Hermione still lay completely unconscious in a bed bigger than imaginable. A warm fire was glowing in front of them, a fire full of blazing golds and burgundies, which perfectly matched the Gryffindor adorned bedroom they lay in.

Finally after hours of tossing and refusing to find a comfortable position, a tall and thin teenage boy awoke from a surprisingly refreshing nap. He may have been moving around every five minutes, but there was something comforting about his slumber, something that felt different. When Ron sat himself up in the bed, stretched his lanky arms far above his head, he finally noticed the thin, feminine frame breathing what seemed like miles away from him. Hermione's massive amounts of curly brown hair had not been tamed completely over the years, and surrounded her tranquil face like a curly chocolaty brown halo.

Ron got on his hands and knees and tried to crawl across the bed to the sleeping angel, but was surprised when he sank into the soft bed beneath him. Ron continued his short crawling journey to Hermione, but couldn't handle himself once he was next to her. He took in a sharp breath and forced himself to let it out slowly, realizing how stunning Hermione looked. He leaned in closer to her face, only to feel his smile fall into a depressing state.

There were so many cuts and bruises along her face; so many times she had been hurt. All of these indications of war hurt Ron more than any curse could. Every scab and every purple bruise showed that he hadn't been able to protect her, that he hadn't saved her. He sat himself up, trying not to look at her face any longer. Ron's body fell relaxed and he slowly slipped backward, only to let his sullen skull hit the headboard. It didn't matter to him, the pain couldn't affect him.

Hermione finally began to awaken, her small body stretching across the silky pillows she so gracefully slept upon. Her eyes were slowly opening, flickering shut and trying to reject the light pouring in from the stained glass window. Hermione took her time allowing her body to wake up, taking in all that was around her; the intricately formed window, the burning embers, her silken sheets, Ron in nothing but boxers, the bed. Wait, Ron in his boxers? This had to be all-wrong, this is not the last thing she remembered. Honestly, the last memory that came to mind was kissing under the Whomping Willow.

No. This couldn't be possible. She hadn't, she couldn't have slept with Ron. Or could she have, Hermione thought as she looked at her own tangled hair and Ron's slight blush rose into his earlobes.

"Ron, did we?" Hermione had to bring herself to ask the question that hung over her head.

"Of course not." Ron replied what he felt was a bit too quickly "Not that it would have been a bad, it probably would have been quite nice. But no, we didn't, we just slept up here. I don't know how we got up here. Now that I think about it, where is here?" Ron spit it all out, rambling on and on trying to cover up the fact that he had just admitted sex with Hermione would have been enjoyable.

"This is the Head's Room, or so it seems." Hermione said without considering the fact that this was an odd thing to know off the top of your head.

"How….how do you know that?" Ron muttered, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Hogwarts: A History. The Head's Room is decorated in the colors of the Head's or Heads' house. It is more easily recognized by the well designed stained glass windows that decorate the bedrooms." Hermione recited the entry from her favorite book as if it were normal to memorize passages of encyclopedias.

"But surely no Head Boy or Girl could need a bed this large or a room that's so fancy!" Ron said not understanding why the room was so well decorated.

"Well….I am not really sure but rumor has it that Rowena Ravenclaw cast a charm on the Head's Quarters. It is said that the room is fully aware of a couple's potential and if they are destined to be together, in Rowena's opinion, then the Quarters are only equipped with one room, forcing the Heads to become closer than before. But this is obviously a glitch, seeing as we aren't the Head Girl and Boy." Hermione had been contemplating this since the moment she woke up in the room. She had ruled out the fact that she and Ron were destined to be together because she knew they weren't who the room was intended for.

"But Hermione, there were no Heads this year. Snape wouldn't allow there to be anymore authority besides himself. There were no Prefects either. This room had to be for us. We are the only ones who have been in here all year. This is our room." Ron said, suddenly had a burst of confidence. This was what was supposed to happen, this is where he was supposed to end up.