The following morning was a rather gloomy one. Mr. Weasley had sent word that Fred's body was remaining at Hogwarts until the afternoon, in which it would be buried along with the rest of the fallen. Ron didn't wake Hermione when he went downstairs but instead left her in his bed buried under the covers they had pulled over themselves in the middle of the night. Ron was surprised that he managed to sleep the rest of the day and into night until morning. Of course, he had woken up countless times. Twice, he was startled to feel Hermione breathing next him, her body pressed up against his and her breath hot against his neck. By the third time he was awaken by nightmares, she had turned around with her back facing him and he had to do everything he could from flipping her body over and holding her again.

Fleur had happily taken over as cook as Mrs. Weasley spent half of her time worrying and the other half being consoled by anyone near her. She had gotten on well with Fleur since Bill's attack but Ron could tell that the relationship between the two women was even better as Fleur offered his mother tea.

"Ron, I 'ave made eggs and toast. Sit down at ze table," she said to him. Her silvery hair whipped about her as she pulled out the nearest chair and waved her wand, bringing a flying plate to settle on the table in front of him.

"Thanks," mumbled Ron. He stabbed his fork into the eggs and thought of the upcoming funeral. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Hermione walk up behind him.

"Morning," she said gloomily as she stifled a yawn. Her cheeks were red as she stared down at the table and sat down. Her hair was tied back and her eyes tired but Ron continued to stare at her all the same. She smiled nervously at him as she caught his eye and took a plate of eggs Fleur handed to her. They both looked up at the sound of a door opening and closing to see Harry and Ginny.

"Luna's home," said Harry as he wiped sweat off his brow. "House is still demolished but they're managing."

"Camping outside," Ginny piped up. "Sounds dreadful, really. Mr. Lovegood couldn't look Harry in the eye either."

Ron gave Harry a knowing look. Of course Mr. Lovegood couldn't look at him. And, he thought as he glanced at Hermione, living in a tent wasn't too bad. If it wasn't for the smell and lack of decent food, he'd be happy to share a tent with her again. Harry sat down next to him and took another plate of eggs from Fleur.

"Sorry, I didn't make it back in last night," he said. "I came and sat with your mum and Ginny." Ron nodded. Truthfully, it was quite alright with him that Harry left.

"I know, Hermione told me," said Ron. He turned to see Hermione talking with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. Fleur had started cleaning dirty plates and talking to herself in quiet, rapid French. Ron ignored Harry's snicker and pushed the last bits of egg around on his plate.

"Oh, did she?" asked Harry. "And she just went back to bed then?" Ron rolled his eyes as he looked at him. Harry was biting his lip now and holding back laughter.

"Oh, shut up Harry," said Ron. He turned back to his almost empty plate and ignored Harry who was still staring at him and looking back at Hermione. Ron looked up at him once, rolled his eyes pointedly again, and then stealthily glanced at Hermione as well. She was still talking to Mrs. Weasley. His change in focus didn't go unnoticed by Harry, who had made a production of nodding and smiling.

"Look, nothing happened, okay?" Ron said annoyed. He kicked Harry under the table and got up from his chair, pushing it in with a force that caused his and Harry's plates to clatter. He trudged back up the stairs to his small room, the steps creaking under every step. He could hear them creaking and shifting as he walked farther up and knew that someone was either going to their own room or following him. He didn't look back but continued walking until reaching his room on the highest landing just before the attic. He slammed the door behind him and threw himself onto his bed, hiding his face in his pillow. It smelled like Hermione's hair. His bed was also made, he noticed. Last night he had been wishing his bed was bigger because for two people it was very uncomfortable. Yet, truthfully, he had never considered or thought for one minute that he would be sharing it.

There was a gentle knock at his door and he pushed his head farther down into his pillow and muffled his breathing. Maybe if he waited long enough he would fall into a state of unconsciousness and Fred's death wouldn't matter anymore. Well, neither would Hermione, he thought again.

He picked his head up to see Hermione closing the door behind her. For a second they stared at each other. She took a step forward and continued to hold his gaze. He picked himself up into a sitting position and let his legs hang over the edge and stared right back, trying to read her expression. His eyes scanned her face and he licked his lips nervously.

In one swift movement Hermione walked the short distance from the door to Ron's bed and threw herself at him. He opened his arms to catch her just in time as she pressed her lips to his. Ron held onto her, shocked, as she clung to his neck and kissed him deeper. He parted his lips farther and kissed her back. He had no idea what brought on this sudden change in behavior. They hadn't talked much after the war, granted it had only been a day, but he never imagined being in this situation until much later, perhaps maybe a few days.

Ron began to notice that Hermione was trying to push him down as she continued to kiss him. Ron put his hands under her arms and pulled her onto the bed with him. He moved so he was no longer sitting on the edge but on the length as he would normally do if he were sleeping. Hermione moved on top of him and he fell back, his head hitting the pillow. She continued to kiss him and Ron opened his mouth and let her slip her tongue in. He moaned into her as she rubbed her hands down his chest and lightly grazed the fabric of his thin t-shirt with her fingertips.

By now Ron had gotten over his initial state of shock and was thoroughly enjoying the feel of Hermione on top of him and her tongue moving against his. He tore himself apart from her lips, brought his head up, and began kissing her neck, tentatively at first, but as she writhed above him he kissed her harder. He kissed her along her jaw and back down her neck and Hermione responded with noncommittal noises and small gasps. His hands slid down to her hips and pulled her closer to him, only slightly embarrassed that there was now an evident hardness between them. He was hoping that her heavy breathing was a sign that she didn't notice but as she moved her body lower and started pressing harder against him, he guessed otherwise.

Ron found his way back to her mouth and kissed her again. He managed to do this for only a second before she started to kiss his neck and sneak her hands under his shirt. Ron closed his eyes and let her touch him, her hands moving back up to his chest and around his back. He wanted to rip her shirt off. He sat up, Hermione still kissing him while doing so, and slid her down until she was sitting on top of him. He gripped her tighter and kissed her once on her cheek. She broke contact with his neck and looked him.

It had occurred to Ron, not for the first time but now it seemed like it was an even greater realization, that everything about Hermione was real. The way she looked at him, whether it was annoyed with his lack of tact or tender at something surprisingly sweet that he said. The way her bossy voice rang throughout his head and how she refused to do his homework but ended up doing it for him anyway. Her hair was always in the way and she panicked at the smallest things. Her temper wasn't quick like his, but it was there all the same and Ron had been on the receiving end of her anger many times.

Ron looked down at Hermione's chest. Her panting had ceased and gradually turned into slow heaves for air. Ron looked back up at her and slid his right hand up and down her side. His other brushed some of her hair out of her face. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he was sorry for being jealous. That he'd fancied her for a long time and that he always felt nervous and self-conscious whenever she was in the same room. But he didn't.

Hermione played with the hair at the nape of his neck and inched her face closer to his. Ron leaned in and kissed her lips again. This Hermione, although she might have seemed different to anyone else, was the same Hermione he had always known. They had been friends, yes, but Ron had always wanted her more than anyone else did. He always imagined what it was like to snog her or hold her or, he shifted uncomfortably under her, sleep with her. Never had he thought, well save for maybe the first three years of knowing her, that they would only be friends. He knew that it could have gone two ways with Hermione. Either one day she would see him differently (which he knew she did) and they would act on it, or, this haunted Ron more than anything, she would never return his feelings and he would have to watch her be with someone else. Sometimes he thought that he rightly deserved it. He had let Hermione down on more than one occasion and hated himself for it, so he could imagine what her feelings could be like.

But now, he was definitely sure that she was not going to be with anyone else. He had her and he loved her and he was going to try his hardest to not mess up. He continued to kiss her and run his hands along the sides of her waist. Hermione had her hands back under his shirt and moved them across his stomach before gripping his lower back. He began to kiss her harder again and grabbed the ends of her shirt. He considered pulling her blouse up and over her head as he so desperately wanted to. As she continued to kiss him, though, he thought better of it and rested his hands back on her waist and kissed her again slowly, moving his tongue into her mouth and back out again.

There was a sudden loud rapping on his door and they broke apart instantly. Hermione jumped so quickly from his lap that she stumbled off the bed and hit the floor. Ron remained sitting on the bed, his eyes wide and fixed on the door. It opened and a face of radiant beauty appeared.

"Eet is almost time to go to 'Ogwarts. Zey would like you down Ron," said Fleur. Her eyes rested on Hermione sitting awkwardly on the floor, looking flushed. "I told zem that you must be in Ginny's room. I will stick to zat."

Fleur left the room in a hurry and closed the door behind her. Ron and Hermione had not spoken since breakfast and as Ron peered over the edge of the bed to find her still on the floor, he had to bite his lip from laughing. Hermione was flustered. Her hair was slightly messed from falling and her cheeks still pink with embarrassment from being found by Fleur. She glared up at Ron with a look that dared him to laugh. He did. He snorted at first before bursting with laughter at the sight of her. He got up from the bed and helped her up. She smiled as he did so and brushed invisible dirt off of herself, clearly trying to busy her hands. Ron tugged the bottom of his shirt down and tried to distract from his crotch. Hermione was polite enough to not look down.

"Hey," Ron said sheepishly. He reached across the short space between them and touched her fingers lightly with his.

"Ron," Hermione answered quietly. Ron glanced at his floor and around his room. Everything looked disheveled and dusty from lack of use. Some things even looked as if they were rifled through. Had Death Eaters gone through his things? Either way, he should have cleaned up a bit before having Hermione up. But then again, he thought, she had invited herself up both times; the time they had slept in bed and this time where they, well…

"We should go downstairs," he said miserably. Ron didn't want to for two reasons, the first standing in front of him wearing the after effects of being kissed and slightly groped. The other was obvious. He didn't want to face the reality of Fred's death. Hermione's kiss had once again been a distraction from the real world. That's another thing about her: she was real and surreal at the same time. He could count on her to make him forget anything that was going on and also bring him back down to earth.

"Alright, then," said Hermione. Her voice brought him back from his thoughts. Ron gave his bed one last longing look before grabbing her hand and leading the way out the door.

Everyone was already near the kitchen door that led to the back garden before Ron and Hermione arrived. They hurried to join Harry and walked out into the harsh sunlight behind everyone else. Farther along garden they Apparated, Ron gripping Hermione's hand tightly again.

They appeared out of thin air in Hogsmeade. The shops were still desolate and the ground littered with trash and wanted posters but the heavy gloom and feel of foreboding seemed to be gone. As they walked towards Hogwarts, Ron remembered the innocent trips he, Harry and Hermione had taken to these very roads. It seemed like ages ago. He'd give anything to enjoy a Butterbeer with them again without having to think of a war or Fred.

They walked towards the northwest part of the great castle, past the entrance where their permission slips were inspected and through a corridor Ron had walked with Hermione many times. He remembered how he would purposely walk close to her, not too close, but near enough to brush her arm or shoulder, just enough for contact. He had let go of Hermione's hand just after the Apparition and was considering taking it back into his own again before he saw the crowd of people in the Great Hall.

There was an array of people standing around the tables. Some Ministry officials and employees were there, along with Kingsley, Aberforth, and others. Students both during and outside the battle were there with their families and talking amongst themselves. Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley went to stand in a corner of the Hall, and Ron couldn't help but notice that they were being stared at. He was used to people gawking at Harry, but he couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on him as well. If it wasn't such a somber moment he would have swelled with pride.

"Molly, you're here!" exclaimed an exasperated voice. Mr. Weasley came sprinting from across the Hall and took Mrs. Weasley into his arms and patted her on the back. His glasses were askew and his eyes worrisome. From behind him, walked up Percy, Bill, Charlie, and George, all puffy eyed from lack of sleep. Bill joined Fleur and took her hands in his, mumbling in her ear as she nodded. Ron caught snippets of his conversation, hearing "funeral" and "Dumbledore." Mr. Weasley, catching on that everyone was looking at him expectantly, cleared his throat.

"Ah, well," he began. "I'm sure you all remember Dumbledore's funeral. This is going to be similar considering the, um, number of bodies." Ron glanced at George. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the door. Ron felt his stomach tighten. "This afternoon, everyone will be laid to rest," Mr. Weasley continued. "It was agreed that Hogwarts would be the final resting spot for those who fought for it and the rest of the wizarding world. After everyone arrives we should be getting started." As he finished, Mr. Weasley looked around at his family for approval. Mrs. Weasley nodded and blew her nose into a handkerchief Percy gave her and the rest nodded as well. George moved to stand next to Ron and looked at Mr. Weasley.

"That's good then," he said quietly. Everyone turned to him, startled to hear him speak. Ron gave him what he hoped was an encouraging sort of smile but looked back down as soon as he saw the pain etched across his face.

"What's been going on since yesterday?" Harry asked Charlie. Ron picked up his head to listen.

"Everyone's been rushing to prepare for the funeral," Charlie said while sighing. "We're all really tired but we didn't want to wait any longer. " Ron opened his mouth to say that he would have stayed but Charlie caught him. "No, no, it's good you all went home to take care of Mum. We had students running around, trying to help. More trouble, actually. We sent Neville Longbottom home immediately; he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks."

Ron and Harry continued talking to Charlie and Percy for a good amount of time. George was talking to Hermione and Ginny while Bill was again with Mr. Weasley, Fleur at his side. Ron tried to listen to everything Charlie was saying but found it incredibly difficult as his thoughts kept drifting back to Hermione. It was a terribly wonderful escape from the current situation. Whenever Charlie mentioned someone who had died, Ron chose not to listen and instead thought of his warm bed and having Hermione in it. When Harry asked Charlie about the mass funeral, Ron simply turned the other way and remembered how Hermione sat on his lap and pressed against him. He shook his head in an effort to get those thoughts out. Maybe, after this was all done, they could pick up where they left off.

For hours they all talked. Ron was running out of things to say and had Hermione by the hand again while sitting on one of the destroyed tables. Many more people had arrived and now the Great Hall was flooded with both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Families, Ron presumed, had occupied most of the space and were heading outside to the grounds. Ron picked himself up off the table and followed Bill's lead out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds. He was not surprised to find so many golden chairs in rows near the lake but was taken aback at the number of bodies lying on the long table in front of them. They were draped in cloth, hidden under thick fabric, and Ron found it unsettling that he couldn't make out Fred. He was just another body. George had, though, and was focused on the shape on the far right of the table. Perhaps he had seen him beforehand. Ron stood rooted to the spot and allowed his family to walk past him. Hermione dragged him to the front row but Ron shook his head and led her to the second. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took up chairs in the front themselves, along with George and Percy and others whose family members had died.

Andromeda was there, holding a crying baby and sobbing softly to herself. Harry had walked up and taken the seat on the other side of Hermione, leaving Ginny with Mrs. Weasley. Bill, Fleur, and Charlie took the seats next to him and Ron saw Neville walking with his grandmother and sit in the back.

Ron bowed his head. He heard the familiar voice of the small tufty-haired wizard that spoke both at Dumbledore's funeral and Bill's wedding. Ron tried to block everything out again. He didn't want to hear any of it. He tried to focus on the girl sitting next to him and what they had done just hours before, but the girl in question had started to sniffle, bringing him back. He looked up to see Hermione crying, tears running down her cheeks and falling on her shirt. Ron wanted to console her but all he could manage was a clumsy pat on the leg before he broke down himself.

Ron put his head in his hands and tried his best to sob silently. He couldn't believe Fred was gone. He couldn't believe Lupin and Tonks were gone. He hiccupped before letting more tears fall and felt a hand lightly graze the top of his head. He leaned into Hermione's embrace, his face still hidden in his hands. He sobbed into her shirt, feeling stupid, as she brushed his hair with her fingertips and held him close. He was being pathetic, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He kept his face covered as he heard what he knew were flames erupting around the bodies, soon to be tombs to enclose the fallen. He glanced ahead of him briefly, and saw the remnants of smoke and an assortment of tombs of different colors lined perfectly on the table. He raised himself up a bit more but continued to lean into Hermione's arms. He dropped his head again and waited for the last moments of the service to cease. He felt her lean down and kiss the top of his head once, twice, and then continue to gently run her fingers through his hair.

A/N: Okay, I hope it's alright.