Ron was sitting in one of Hogwarts' many grassy lots, looking at the steady sunrise. He'd been there before. He had kissed Hermione there, after Trelawny had sprinted away in a frantic mood. Now, it was one of his many secret hideouts. People kept coming up to him to ask him questions about that night. The order had done nearly everything to make sure nobody would find out any details about the events that had unrolled a few days before, so naturally, the whole school found out. It had turned everything upside down. A group of Gryffindors had been punished for 'getting payback' on a group of Slytherins. Neville had been propped up as some sort of hero, along with Harry, Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Ron himself.

Figure that, Ron thought, You spend your whole life trying to get out of the shadow of your brothers, and when you finally do, the light is too bright for your eyes. Ron wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Alone with his thoughts about himself, his family and the war. Alone with his thoughts about Hermione, their relationship and the death of Dumbledore. Snape's betrayal had left a deep gorge of disarray in the Order. He was their deepest informant. The Order of the Phoenix was now both leaderless and blind. McGonagall did her best to keep the Order together, but everyone knew that Snape's actions had left them crippled.

Ron sighed. It was a beautiful sunrise, he admitted to himself. The rays of the dawning sun were still cold, but the reddish glow they spread out over the Hogwarts grounds was impressive nonetheless. Ron sat there, against one of the trees, silently watching the shadows of the forest shortening and deepening. The sun, starting out as a crimson ball of fire visible just above the tops of the trees, rose steadily up in the air until it started to tinge yellow. Ron usually didn't get up this early, but his sleeping pattern had been disrupted completely by bad dreams and a turmoiled mind. He had found out that getting up early saved him several hours of restlessness in his bed.

It was eight o'clock when the first of the other students popped out on the ground. She walked determinately forward, heading straight for his hideout. There was a certain duality about her, Ron noticed. The first part was girly; insecure about her feelings, her appearance and her abilities. The other part was feminine; wizened by experience a girl of her age shouldn't yet have and sharpened by the books that she'd read.
She is the cleverest witch of her age, Ron thought, and to me, she's also the prettiest.
"There you are," Hermione said as she reached his hiding place, "I've been looking all over for you."
"I was just enjoying the scenery, I'm sorry if I scared you. But now that you're here, the scenery has definitely improved."
Hermione blushed.
"I was just sitting here. I needed some time to sort things out. You know, putting things back in perspective. Reorganizing my priority list."
Hermione sat down next to him and crawled up against his chest.
"Am I still on that list?"
"Hermione, you are the list."
Together, they sat there, enjoying the last part of the sunrise. The sun steadily rose up and, hunched together, they enjoyed the first of the sun's warm rays.

"Hermione?" Ron asked after a while, "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"When I first saw Snape coming from the corridor, I had half a mind of petrifying him. I know I shouldn't blame myself for letting Snape go, but every time I go over the night in my head, I wonder; was it Felix that stopped me from cursing him, or was I keeping Felix from it? And if Felix was keeping me from jinxing him, what does that mean?"
Hermione extracted her head from Ron's chest. She looked up at him in a mystified way.
"You mean whether it was you or Felix whom thought it best to let Snape pass?"
"Yes."
"I think you did your very best, Ronny. You and me, we're fighting in a war now. You can't look back and wish for things to have gone differently. You fought in a battle and you overcame. You've battled Death Eaters. If you had stopped Snape, someone else would have killed Dumbledore in his place. There were four Death Eaters with him on that tower Ron."
"Five", Ron corrected her, "Malfoy was there too."

For a few minutes, Hermione and Ron sat there silently, enjoying the calm and gentle weather. Ron was going over what Hermione had said. She was right, he concluded in the end. If he had stopped Snape, than someone else would have finished the job. Hermione was still propped up against his chest, enjoying it's movement as it went up and down with Ron's breathing.
"Ron?"
"Yes?"
"What do we do about us?" she asked tentatively, "I mean, we've been keeping this a secret for quite some time now. We should tell Harry soon."
Ron nodded. Hermione was right. Harry had the right to know about it. Only, he had gone through hell and back these last few days.
"Perhaps we should tell him after the funeral," Ron thought, "in the Hogwarts Express."
Hermione encircled Ron in a huge hug.
"We need to get changed," Hermione said, "The ceremony is going to start at noon. We'd better be prepared."
Ron stood up quickly and helped Hermione get up. She pulled him in close, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
"I love you," she said softly, "More than anything in the world."
"I'll never leave you," Ron replied, "I never want to be separated from you again. That night, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't stop worrying. I want everyone to know you are my girlfriend, and when they do, they'll never see either of us alone. Death Eaters or not, I will not go through another year without you by my side as my girlfriend."
Hermione blushed. She pulled Ron in even tighter.
"Ron," she whispered, "I didn't know you were such a poet."

The funeral went by in a haze of blurry emotions. Hermione was sitting next to Ron, holding his hands and weeping against his shoulder. Ron held her close, fighting the tears in his own eyes during the entire procession. When the altar Dumbledore had been put to rest on went up in flames and had been replaced by a tomb of white marble, Ron finally broke. Tears he had been trying to keep from his eyes were now freely flowing down.
There he goes, Ron thought, That old and wise man.
Almost instantly, he recalled his conversation with Dumbledore when he wanted to quit being a Prefect. It was one of the few times he had been alone with Dumbledore. It would always stay with him as a turning point in his life. Dumbledore had revealed so much to him that day. Dumbledore had made him feel secure about is abilities. That self-security had made him strong enough to face his only fear: telling Hermione that he loved her.
"I owe you so much, old man, " Ron whispered later, when he stood in front of the white tomb, touching the cold marble with his fingertips, "I will never forget the lessons that you told me."

Hermione reached out for his shoulder and pulled Ron back from the tomb. She looked at him with tear-shot eyes.
"Maybe this is the last day for us here," she said fearfully, "If we go along with Harry, we might never see this place again."
Ron nodded. He had given this some thought too. It had been quite obvious that Harry wanted to go and look for the Horcruxes, so when he had told them about his plans, Ron immediately knew what to say. They were going to come along.
"The Hogwarts Express is going to be here in an hour. I want to do something with you before we leave."
"What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?"
"I'll show you when we get there. Trust me."
Ron stretched out his hand, waiting for Hermione to grab it.
"I trust you, Ron."
And with that, she took his hand and fingers intertwined, left for Hogwarts' front doors.

Ron knew just where to go. He had wanted to do this for years, and the prospect of not returning to Hogwarts might mean this was his last chance. Hermione followed him silently, sometimes commenting on what she thought they might be heading for. It became quite apparent when they entered the corridor on the third floor. It was still slightly darkened, as though clouds were blocking the sun from shining through the windows. It was a side effect of the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder that Draco had used.
"The Room of Requirement!" Hermione piped excitedly, "That's what we're heading for!"
"As always, you've solved the riddle," Ron joked. He walked up to the hidden door and passed it thrice, thinking of what he needed. Just as always, the room delivered. A soft swishing sound emanated as the door became visible. Ron opened it slowly, extending his hand to allow Hermione in. She was breathless.

Inside the Room of Requirement was a ballroom. Its dark, ebony floor was shining, as though it had been waxed the night before. An old gramophone player, with a big golden horn was set up on a table in the corner. The walls around the floor were lined with shelves, each of them holding hundreds of old dusty records. The ceiling was high, nearly three stories high, with chandeliers hanging down on thick steel chains. They were lit by hundreds of candles, that gave the room a pleasant glow. Big windows lined every side of the room, casting a sparkling starlight down on the mahogany floor. Ron heard Hermione gasp in amazement and wonder. He crossed the room deliberately and reached into one of the shelves. He extracted an old, red cover from it, and placed its content gingerly in the gramophone player. Hermione was still reading the backs of some record covers when the gramophone player started playing a pleasant, harmonious melody that echoed off the walls.
"Hermione?" he asked, "Can I have this dance with you?"

Hermione accepted. Together, they spent several songs dancing, even though neither of them was any good at it. Ron nearly tripped over his jumpers, while Hermione stepped on his toes twice. Still, they knew they were both having a great time. Ron was visibly happy, a big, lopsided grin on his face. He was finally dancing with his Hermione, a dance he had wanted to have ever since the Yule Ball. Hermione was leaning on Ron blissfully, enjoying their private little dance with him. Harry, the Horcurxes, the War, everything would have to wait, because Hermione was dancing with her Ron at last.

a/n: This was the final chapter of my story Hermione's Gift. I penned it down a couple of years ago, and though I quickly ran it through spell checker and re-read everything, it is pretty much the same as it was back then. I want to thank my readers for reading and enjoying the story. Your many kind words of encouragement and joy are always appreciated.

At the time of writing this, Deathly Hallows was not yet released. The story is meant to be read with that in mind, and I hope that you won't judge it too hardly just because it doesn't quite add up to the final installment of the franchise.

I will be spending my time writing on Lumos Construction and Bonded Wands, Bonded Spirits. I've also got a number of stories that are currently on hiatus on grounds of a full schedule or writer's block. I fully intend to finish them as time progresses.