A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with this fic! You get the fluffy rewards in this chapter :)

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July 26, 1997

Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Ron's father had received word from Kingsley Shacklebolt that the Order would be paying a visit to the Burrow for dinner to discuss a change to the plan to get Harry. Mr Weasley wouldn't say anything else in front of the children, but they could all tell by his pale complexion and somber tone that something serious had happened.

Despite the palpable anxiety in the room, however, Ron was having a hard time focusing on anything except Hermione. As soon as she came down the stairs and sat down next to him at the breakfast table, he'd been trying not to stare. It was already thirty degrees by nine o'clock in the morning, so she was dressed in a spaghetti-strapped tank top and a pair of jean shorts. All of his energy, save for the small amount focused on food, was directed toward keeping his eyes off of her, which was proving to be a near-impossible task.

Right after she'd joined him and helped herself to a piece of toast, she dropped her free hand below the table and grasped his, a quick squeeze her way of saying good morning. He had expected her to drop it and return to eating, but she refused to let go. So, despite his clumsiness with his left hand, he fumbled through his entire meal with only one arm, not wanting to be the first to break contact.

As expected, the rest of the day was filled with chores and cleaning as the entire family chipped in to prepare for the upcoming nuptials. Typically, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes did its best business on a Saturday, but Fred and George closed the shop to help their mother. While Molly and Arthur focused on preparing the yard for the large tent that would be arriving in a few days, the Weasley children and Hermione helped to launder the linens and get each of their rooms ready for guests. Ron and Hermione spent the day happily chatting with Ron's siblings, and while everyone was getting along well, it meant that they never had any of the alone time that Ron craved.

Around four o'clock, everyone piled into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. With most of the Order coming over to eat, Mrs Weasley wasn't able to handle all of the cooking herself. The kids all rolled up their sleeves and peeled, chopped, and diced until their mother told them they could stop. Kingsley arrived first, followed shortly thereafter by Remus Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Mundungus Fletcher, and Minerva McGonagall. Much to Mrs Weasley's delight, Bill and Fleur came by as well.

After everyone had served themselves and dug into their plates, Kingsley stood at the head of the table and cleared his throat.

"There has been a change of plans," he started in a deep, booming baritone. "We suspect that Voldemort had become aware of Harry's extraction procedure. Therefore, instead of waiting until the day before his seventeenth birthday, we will be picking him up from his aunt and uncle's house tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" Molly cried. "Must it be so soon, Kingsley?"

"We believe this is the safest time to go, Molly. I know we're not giving you much notice, but this is the way it has to be if we want to protect Harry the best we can."

As soon as he'd mentioned Harry's safety, Mrs Weasley clammed up. Ron knew that she loved his friend just like one of her own, and she would always support the option that placed him in the least amount of danger.

"Now, we're still planning a diversion just in case, and that's where you all come in," Kingsley continued, pointing around the room. "As you know, we can't transport Harry by Floo or apparition; they're both too risky. That means we've decided the best plan is to fly him out."

"Finally, something suited to our particular genius," George replied, grinning at his twin brother.

Fred nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

"This is no day out on the Quidditch pitch, I assure you," Kingsley said, his eyes focused on the twins. "Even though we don't think Voldemort knows about this plan, he's still likely to have a Death Eater or two stationed in the area, watching for any suspicious activity. Therefore, to guard against the risk of ambush, Professor McGonagall has brewed us a batch of Polyjuice Potion. There will be more than one Harry Potter above the skies of Surrey tomorrow evening."

"That's dangerous!" Mrs Weasley called out.

"That's genius!" Mr Weasley added.

"That's disgusting!" Fred and George said in unison. "Have you seen Harry?"

"Enough of the joking, boys!" Professor McGonagall chastised. "This is serious business."

The twins knew that their former professor had no actual power over them any longer, but nonetheless, they dropped their heads and murmured apologies in her direction.

"Kingsley, wouldn't that just put everyone at more risk?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"We're willing to take the risk!" Ron cried, followed by a roar of assent from everyone else in the room.

Kingsley held up his hands, bringing the room back to silence. "I acknowledge the risk, Molly, but if a Death Eater were to see Harry leaving Privet Drive with one escort, dozens of them may be on top of him in a matter of seconds. With the Polyjuice Potion, we're planning to have seven Harry Potters, each with an Order escort. They don't know which one is the real one, and the confusion will allow everyone time to escape."

In the corner of the room, Mrs Weasley wrung her hands together and glared at Kingsley with a quiet fury. Despite her apparent hesitation, however, she remained quiet, and he continued with the plan.

"Each pair will have a location to which they are to fly and catch a Portkey to rendezvous back here at the Burrow straight away. I can't force any of you to go on this mission, but everyone that is of age is welcome."

"That's not fair!" Ginny cried, jumping to her feet. "Why can't I come?"

"No," Mrs Weasley stated. "Absolutely not!"

"But Mum, I want to help, everyone else–"

"That is final, young lady! This family will be taking a big enough risk! I know you want to fight, and that is commendable, but you are underage, and you will not be going!"

Professor McGonagall placed her hand on Ginny's shoulder as the redhead sat down, her arms crossed angrily across her chest. "I'm afraid I must agree with your mother, Ginevra, but this will not be your only chance to contribute. Sadly, the war will not be won in one night. I have no doubt that you will have a role to play at Hogwarts this year."

While she didn't look happy to be left out, Ginny clamped her mouth shut and remained still in her chair.

"Well, I'm in," Ron said.

"Me too," Hermione agreed.

Bill stood up and looked around, surveying the faces of his family members. "We're all in, yeah?"

Every Weasley nodded, and Kingsley and the rest of the Order looked pleased. "I had no doubt."

As he started to detail the rest of the plan, the clatter of silverware started up again as everyone enjoyed the meal that Mrs Weasley had prepared. Ron thought he'd been hit with a bludger in the stomach when he was told that he'd be flying with Tonks and Hermione would be flying with Kingsley; he'd hoped that the two of them could stay together. But having one member of the Order per pair made sense, and he was at least pleased that Kingsley would be in charge of protecting her.

When the meal finished and dessert and coffee had been served, the Order members took their leave, each apparating away from the garden under cover of darkness. The mood in the Burrow was tense, and there was no doubt what was on their minds. Every member of the family loved Harry and considered him an honorary Weasley, but the risks they were taking to pick him up were considerable.

In Ron's mind, the worst part of the new plan was that all of a sudden, he only had one more night alone with Hermione. Once Harry arrived, everything would change. He'd be thrilled to have his other best friend in the house, of course, but Ron valued the time he had with her more than anything. Since she'd started feeling like herself again, they'd been practically inseparable, and it finally seemed as though their relationship might be getting ready to take the next step. It was hard to imagine that progress could continue with Harry around, though.

Hermione was clearly nervous for the rest of the night as well. Whenever she wasn't pacing in front of the bookshelves in the living room, she was sitting straight up in the armchair by the fireplace, her wide eyes locked on the flames. Once Ron's brothers and sisters filtered upstairs to bed, the two of them were left alone.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron asked as he padded over to her and sat down on the floor by her feet.

She remained transfixed and barely blinking. "I don't know. I'll be happy for Harry to be here, I suppose."

"Definitely."

Neither of them knew what to say, even though Ron suspected he knew what she was thinking. The occasional creak of a floorboard or pop of dry wood in the fireplace was the only sound that broke through the silence.

"Are you nervous?" Ron finally asked, turning his head toward her.

She ripped her gaze away from the fire, her face pale. "Yes," she whispered.

"Me too. And hopefully, this won't even be a battle."

"Hopefully."

Again they both fell quiet. It had all happened too quickly. He couldn't help but bristle at the unfairness of the situation, although he knew there was going to be nothing fair about this war. You Know Who didn't care how much pain and anguish he heaped onto Ron or his family and friends. And since he didn't care, they were forced to set everything else aside and pick up the banners yet again in the hopes that the future they might achieve would be worth the struggle.

"It's getting late," he said, pulling himself to his feet and keeping his eyes trained on her. "I suppose we should get some sleep, don't you reckon?"

Her head nodded although her expression remained unchanged. "Yes, that's a good idea."

"Think you'll actually be able to sleep?"

"I don't know…"

"Yeah, me too. Walk you upstairs?" he replied, holding out his hand.

"Sure," she squeaked as she gripped his fingers. "Thank you."

When they reached the second-floor landing, he reluctantly let go of her and bid her goodnight. It killed him to be walking away from her when she was so upset, but he knew he'd thank himself when he woke up the next morning. Assuming he got any rest at all.

"Ron?" she called, forcing him to spin back around on the staircase

"Yeah?"

Anxiety was painted all over her face, and her fingers were fiddling with the button on her cardigan. She lifted her gaze to him just for a moment before shaking her hand and turning back toward Ginny's door. "Nothing…never mind."

"You're sure?" he asked, still desperate to discover what was bothering her.

"Yes. Good night, I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright. See you in the morning."

He trudged the rest of the way up the staircase, his stomach swarming with doxies. Sleep wouldn't come easily, but he had to try.

Won't do Harry much good if I'm too tired to fight.

But as soon as he lay down in his bed, his mind wouldn't stop spinning, cycling through possibilities, each more dangerous and terrifying than the last. Ten minutes passed, then thirty, then a full hour that he'd been staring at his ceiling, trying to turn off his brain enough to fall asleep.

As he tried fruitlessly to find a comfortable position, though, he heard a creak outside his door. He knew that the house was fully protected, but his instincts kicked in nonetheless, and he snatched his wand from the nightstand. When the doorknob started to twist, he held his arm up in a defensive posture. Ron squinted as the door swung open, exhaling a deep breath when he saw Hermione come through.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she whispered. "I didn't mean to startle you!"

He continued taking deep breaths and set his wand down again, his hand still shaking. "No, it's alright. Just…announce yourself or something next time, yeah?"

"I will, I'm sorry. I thought you'd be asleep."

"Nah, couldn't sleep. You?"

"No," she said quietly, still standing in the doorway.

"Right. So…you came to visit?"

Chuckling to herself, she shook her head and turned around. "You know what, I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for bothering you, I'll just go…"

Oi! She's clearly upset and now she's leaving! Stop her!

"No, wait!" he called, hoping he hadn't woken anyone else. "You–you don't have to go."

"No, I should. This is your room, your space…I'm sorry I just barged in, it wasn't fair."

He stood up and walked over to her, his fingers wrapping gently around her forearm. "It's completely fine. I'm glad you're here. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"Honestly?" she asked, lifting her eyes to his.

"Honestly."

Together they walked back into the room. Ron sat down on the edge of his mattress and patted the empty space next to him, inviting him to sit next to her. When she did, though, his mindset changed completely. His palms started sweating, and he could tell he was breathing faster than usual.

Was that appropriate? It's the middle of the night and she's alone in my room with me.

"Thanks again," she said, pulling the thin strap of her pyjama top back over her shoulder. "It was just…kind of lonely down there. I think Ginny's really worried about Harry, she's not saying a word. Understandable, I suppose."

"Right. What–what about you?"

She threw her hands in the air and scoffed. "What about me?"

"Are you…you know, are you worried?"

"Of course I am," she replied, her voice starting to break. "It feels like…like everything is starting. Like it's going to get worse for us now. For all of us."

Ron gulped and tried to subtly dry his hands on his sheets before placing an arm over her shoulder. Her response was immediate as she leaned into his side, tears starting to leak from her eyes.

"We'll be alright," he said as confidently as he could muster. "We've got the entire Order going with us. Some of the best-trained wizards in the world."

The light of the moon was reflecting off of Hermione's cheeks, illuminating the tears tracking down her face. "I know. But there are no guarantees anymore. It's different now, more critical."

Lost for words, he simply pulled her in closer to him, prompting her to rest her head against his shoulder like she had many times over the last week or so. All of the time they'd spent together flashed before his eyes; not just the last several days, but the last several years. Somewhere along the way, she'd gone from an annoying know-it-all to one of his best friends to the girl he couldn't stop thinking about. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but he was sure of his feelings.

They sat together, Ron's fingers running slowly across the soft skin of her arm for several minutes until her tears dried. The fact that she came to him when she needed comfort spoke volumes, and as much as it pained him to see her sad, he didn't want to leave. He'd sit next to her for days if he had to. She was worth it.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt your night," she said, finally sitting up and wiping her eyes.

"You didn't. Made it better, actually. I was going crazy up here by myself."

A watery smile appeared on her tear-stained face. "You too?"

"I was thinking about the time we went to pick up Harry before second year started. Remember, with the flying car?"

"You mean the one you stole and illegally flew across half of the country?" she clarified, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

He snickered and repositioned himself so that his back was flat against the headboard of his bed, his feet extending halfway down the mattress. "Yeah, that car! It's funny, at the time we were so worried about how difficult it would be to break Harry out. What if his aunt and uncle caught us? What if our Mum found out? But we did it anyway, consequences be damned."

"You're a good friend, Ron," she replied, moving up to sit next to him, their shoulders pressing against each other. "You made some questionable decisions that night, but you were a good friend to him."

"It was strange. Everything that could've gone wrong…short of not getting Harry at all, I guess…did go wrong, We barely made it out, Harry's family was furious, Mum was furious. But then…a few days later, everything was fine. No real fallout. No harm done. The twins and I had to do a few more chores to get back on Mum's good side, but that was it."

Hermione looped her arm in his, scooting even closer to him. "And this time?"

"Exactly," he responded with a long sigh. "Whole different world."

"Right, different world."

A gentle rain started falling against the window, providing a dull white noise in the background. It did little to drown out the thoughts from Ron's mind, though, as increasingly frightening worst-case scenarios continued to torment his imagination. There was so much at stake, so many lives being risked. It was undoubtedly necessary, but what if someone didn't make it back? What if she didn't make it back?

"Hey, Hermione?" he called, tilting his head toward her.

"Yes?"

His throat was constricting and his eyes started to sting. "Do me a favor, would you? Tomorrow, when we go…just stay close to Kingsley, okay? Really close."

"I will," she replied, smiling back at him and nodding before looking away. "You too, please."

"Right."

Just as he started to worry that she might be getting ready to leave, her body slid down the headboard until her head was on the pillow. He watched as her eyelids fluttered and fell. With an adorable twitch of her nose, she released a breath into his side and settled.

His heart was hammering in his chest. He was frozen. Was she planning on staying? Not that he'd ever ask her to leave, of course, but he had no idea how to handle the situation.

Plucking up his courage, he dropped down next to her, his face even with hers on the pillow. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, and for a moment, they studied each other's faces.

"I think I'm finally feeling a little sleepy," she said.

"Oh, right. Erm, yeah, I mean…I guess I could…you know, sleep too."

The blanket shifted as her hand snaked underneath and found his in the darkness. She laced her fingers between his and burrowed deeper into the pillow. "Is this okay?"

Ron was shocked that she'd even ask. Was it okay? It was better than okay! It was brilliant! Even though he wanted to scream for joy at the top of his voice, he reined it in and replied as calmly as possible.

"Course it is. Uhh, as long as it's okay with you, that is."

Her eyebrows lifted in his direction and she shot him a clever smile. "I'm the one who asked."

"Oh. Yeah, right, of course. Well, sure," he said, trying not to look too embarrassed. "Might want to go back downstairs before Mum wakes up, though."

"I will. I'd just…I'd really like to stay with you tonight."

Before responding, he placed his arm over her small frame, drawing her closer to him. Their foreheads came together on the pillow and he closed his eyes, releasing a contented sigh. "I'd like that too."

Even though sleep had been elusive lately, he wanted to stay up as long as he could to savor the feeling of Hermione Granger in his arms. Everything felt right from the sensation of her fingers in his hand, the cool spot on his shin where her foot came to rest, and her warm breath puffing gently across his face. Being with her was so comforting that it didn't take him long to notice how heavy his eyelids had become, and before he felt ready to let go of the conscious moment, he was drifting off to sleep.