A/N: Please keep in mind that this will not be entirely romance. The prologue is pure fluff, but following this, it will be a mixture of various genres.

COUNTING THE DAYS

PROLOGUE

The war was over.

It was the mantra that Ron Weasley had become accustomed to repeating silently each morning when he awoke, for sometimes he still expected to see the furnished tent when he opened his eyes.

It had been done for over a month now, but Ron still felt at times that he may be living in a dizzily long daydream, or perhaps had fallen into comatose and was dreaming of the future. It pained him to think that, either way, Fred would not be around to live it with him. Or any of the other lives that had been lost…

Fred was one of the first things he thought of each day when he woke up. He wondered quietly if Fred was in a happy place in the afterlife, selling Wizard Wheezes to unsuspecting customers and chuckling under his breath as he awaited their reactions. He knew that George had taken it harder than anyone else in the house, though they had all had their time to grieve. A day didn't go by that Ron didn't miss Fred…but he had already gone through his share of denial and bargaining, and at long last had accepted that Fred was gone. He had died for a noble cause, and would forever be remembered in the history books as a brave soldier of the Second Wizarding War.

And now it would be Ron's turn to make an impact. Sure, the Horcrux hunt was a concentrated war effort, but he did not feel that he had yet proved himself worthy. It was with a swell of pride that he had applied to Auror's Academy, receiving a letter of acceptance three short weeks later, with orders to report immediately for a mission out of the country.

A swell of pride, yes…but also a cloud of fear. To disappear for four months without seeing his family? To begin on a new adventure without a clue of what his duties would entail? What if he couldn't hack it? What if he found out that he was rubbish after all?

"Ron?"

The quiet voice was barely audible in the dark, but its source was confirmed when he felt small arms encircle his waist. He had momentarily forgotten that she was beside him.

"Are you asleep?" Hermione whispered.

"No," he replied distractedly as he felt himself being pulled back down to earth, as if with the aid of a Portkey.

"Me neither," she confessed. She propped her elbow onto the bed and rested her head in her hand, peering down into his face. "What are you thinking about?"

He sighed heavily. "Tomorrow…and what all of it will mean." He had tried thus far not to think about it too deeply, for he knew that he would begin second-guessing his decision. However, it was all beginning to dawn on him at once, creating a bubble of uncertainty and anxiety within him.

She lowered her lips to gingerly brush them against his cheek. "You'll be great. I'm so proud of you," was her only response.

He turned to meet her chocolate brown eyes, studying their depths of compassion as intimately as possible. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, accentuating the outlines of his favorite curves. A discreet pout was barely visible upon her lips, though he knew her better than he knew himself…and he knew that she was painfully holding back her fears and her worries, all to reassure his own. Merlin, how he hated to leave her…

As if silently reading the signals of his appreciation of her, she slowly began tracing indiscriminate shapes with her idle hand across his bare abdomen. Her eyes never broke their gaze.

"Ronald," she began hesitantly. He noticed that she bit her lower lip uncertainly, as if thinking very carefully about her next words. "Do you remember what we discussed…earlier tonight, I mean?"

Of course he did. How could he not? Following a row over Merlin-knows-what (he admittedly could not remember what the cause had been), they had simultaneously pounced on one another in a fit of passion, kissing in a way that they had never done before, physically pouring all of their ambivalence about the upcoming trip into one another.

It wasn't until she had begun to tug at his belt that he put an end to it, gently lowering her onto the bed to explain precisely why making love would have been a bad idea. How he thought that she only wanted to because he was leaving in the morning. How he didn't want her to make that sacrifice in the face of terror and desperation. How he wanted it to be the right time for her…

It was not that he didn't want to. Oh, no, quite the opposite in fact. But he was trying to be a gentleman and consider what it would do to her, and how much harder it would make it for her to say good-bye…

In a very 'Hermione' way, she had taken the rejection poorly. Being criticized in any way was never taken well by the woman, and she had embarrassedly locked herself in the loo for an hour. He didn't dare try to go after her, unless he had a clear death wish. In the time that she was sulking, Ron had drifted asleep, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Truth be told, the chain of events was not the way he had wanted to spend his last night with her.

Now that they awoke in the position that they were in, he became aware that she must have trudged back to bed with him after he had dozed off. And here they were, about to hash it out all over again.

He steeled himself for another fight.

"Yes," he said simply, frightened to say much more.

"Well," she began quietly, pursing her lips in concentration. "You were wrong."

Wasn't that a bloody surprise? Hermione Granger, telling Ron Weasley that he was wrong? Unthinkable!

"Hermione," he began wearily, lifting both hands to rub his eyes.

"Listen to me," she continued sternly. The part of him that loved her dearly instantly obliged. "You were wrong because…well…I didn't want to do it out of desperation."

He remained silent to let her continue.

"I mean," she said uncertainly, now fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown nervously, "I thought that was the plan all along."

The plan all along? "Come again?"

"It's just…" She seemed to be on the verge of tears. "When you asked me to spend your last night with you…I thought that's what we would be doing. I was already ready, long before tonight ever came."

He watched as a glistening pool began to form in the corners of her eyes. She was avoiding his gaze now, seemingly self-conscious about the discussion at hand.

"Not only was I ready…but…" She shakily exhaled. "I was looking forward to it."

He studied her face. She looked so small and innocent in bed beside him, curled up beneath the covers as though they would keep away the demons. That's what this bed meant to both of them at that exact moment: it was a safe haven, where nothing else was able to bother them. It was their time, their moment, and it was within that little bubble that their existence was suddenly benign to the rest of the world. It was just them.

"You've…been wanting to?" he asked cautiously.

She scrunched her face up and nodded, fighting back tears. "I want this to be my last memory of you when you leave. I don't want to spend the next four months wondering what we missed out on." She took another shuddering breath and pressed on through the knot in her throat. "I want to feel as close to you as I can, and hold onto all of that with all of my heart."

He rolled over then, so that his body was flush with hers. He quietly probed the emotions in her eyes, to be sure that, without a doubt, he was reading her correctly. As she blinked, the moisture gathered in her eyelashes and trickled down her cheeks. Without hesitation, he reached up to her face to wipe them away. She offered a sad smile.

"I love you," she murmured.

He paused for only a moment. "I love you, too."

It was the first time that either of them had said it out loud. Knowing it within your own soul was one thing; hearing it from the mouth of your soul mate, however, was entirely different. It was as if an explosive charge had erupted between the both of them as they dove for one another, mouths locked in a passionate embrace. She tugged on his hips to pull him closer, sending a shiver down his spine. He parted his lips to her and eagerly explored her mouth, desperate to be as close to her as possible, feeling as though no amount of fear or worry could possibly ruin this moment. He fumbled beneath her nightgown to grasp her upper thigh, delighting in the pleased gasp that escaped her lips.

"Are you sure?" her murmured into her mouth gently.

With one swift movement she had sat up and torn the gown over her head, exposing her naked body. Ron's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm positive," she confirmed as pulled her hair loose from the plait it had been in. He admired her figure kneeling above him, marveling at the beauty he had appreciated in silence for so many years. How she had always been so perfect, and how he could not imagine feeling so strongly for another woman as long as he lived…

Before he even thought about it, he blurted it out.

"Marry me when I get back," he declared softly, reaching his hand to gently clasp the back of her neck.

She smiled through the tears that still persisted, her eyes glowing with affection. "I'll be counting the days," she whispered before wrapping the covers around their bodies and descending upon him once more.

TO BE CONTINUED