A/N: Thanks once again to everyone that's taken the time to review, favorite, and put this story on alert. I really do appreciate all of you, and if I were rich, I would buy you all ponies. Or whatever other cute animal you like. Personally, I like bunnies.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and I own two pillow pets. Who's the real winner?

"The First Time They Slept Together (Sort Of)"

13 June 1998

Hermione had fully intended to go to Australia to retrieve her parents alone. How it had turned into a holiday of sorts with nearly half the Weasley clan, she really wasn't sure. When she had originally discussed her plans with Ron, he had immediately insisted upon coming with her. She hadn't planned on asking him, especially considering that only now, just more than a month after the Battle of Hogwarts, was life beginning to return to some semblance of normal. The Weasleys had coped admirably following the death of Fred, but it was clear that they would never truly move on, and certainly not so soon. However, Ron was adamant that he did not want Hermione traveling to the other side of the world by herself. They had bickered about this only briefly, until Ron said that he knew she could do it herself, he would just feel better if he could come along and ensure that nothing would go wrong. "Besides," he'd said, "we've only got a few months before you're back at Hogwarts, and I want to spend as much of it snogging you as I possibly can."

Hermione had rolled her eyes at this, but relented without much argument. It would be nice, she reasoned, to have someone there for support in case things didn't go as planned. There was, of course, the added benefit that they would be more likely to get some time alone together once they were in a different hemisphere than the rest of their friends and family.

Since they'd officially gotten together, Ron and Hermione had barely found time to do more than share a few stolen kisses and the occasional heated snog in between attempting to rebuild the wizarding world and working through the grief that had accompanied the end of the war. Even their conversations were rarely held alone, and those that were lasted merely a few minutes. Although the downfall of Voldemort had marked the end of virtually all the fighting, the reconstruction effort hadn't been particularly peaceful. The weeks that had passed since that fateful May morning had been frightfully busy, and there was still much to be done in the coming months.

Provided that the rigorous timetable for rebuilding set by now-Headmistress McGonagall was kept, Hogwarts was set to reopen on schedule in September, and Hermione planned on returning when it did. While both she and Ron knew she wouldn't really be Hermione Granger unless she completed her education, neither was exceptionally excited about the prospect of being apart for the better part of ten months, and they were trying to make the most out of the rest of the summer. Setting her parents' memories right wouldn't quite be a romantic getaway, but there would certainly be fewer distractions than there were at home. Although she would probably never admit it aloud, Hermione really was looking forward to spending time with Ron and, perhaps, finally finding the time to act like the teenagers they had never been able to be.

However, once the others had gotten wind of their plans, it had immediately been determined that under no circumstances would the two of them be making the journey alone. Harry had insisted that he owed it to them to come along and help, and though Ron and Hermione had told him repeatedly that they didn't need him to do this, neither had the heart to tell him that they didn't particularly want him there this time. This had made them both feel incredibly guilty, but the truth of the matter was that while Harry would always be their best friend, there were some things they'd rather do alone.

At any rate, he refused to hear their objections, and once Harry became involved, it was decided that Ginny would accompany them as well so that Hermione would have someone to stay in her hotel room with her. Hermione thought it best not to suggest that she really had no qualms setting up a cot in the boys' room. Not only would that likely be considered improper, but now that Ginny, who had only recently forgiven Harry for the events of the past year, had it in her head that she was going, there was no way she'd allow them to leave her behind again.

Because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did not particularly feel up to making the trip, they were sending Bill and Fleur in their stead to essentially act as chaperones. While the Weasleys were by no means strict disciplinarians, they had not been particularly thrilled at the idea of their youngest children spending two weeks in Australia alone with their significant others. It had taken long enough for Ron and Ginny (especially the latter, as she was not yet of age) to convince their parents to allow them to go at all, so there was little backlash regarding the decision to include Bill and Fleur.

While Hermione thought that the couple would be more likely to spend time in their own bedroom rather than chaperoning their charges, she was grateful for the help the elder witch and wizard provided. Although Bill had little experience with memory charms, his knowledge as a curse breaker had given her some background on the best way to go about recovering her parents' memories. Because she hadn't actually used the Obliviate charm, but rather a weakened version of it, they had been able to determine what was most likely the correct process of undoing the spell with far less trouble than Hermione had originally anticipated.

Fleur, on the other hand, turned out to be perhaps the best protector the Weasleys could have sent. She steered them away from various hecklers at the many international portkey stations they stopped at during their voyage south, and screamed in rapid French at several journalists that had attempted to get in their way. Although Voldemort hadn't extended his regime much past Britain, the ramifications had been universal and Harry was apparently famous everywhere. And, though nobody said it out loud, it was comforting to have two more experienced adults along as well due to the fact that not every Death Eater had been caught yet. Although the few that had yet to be incarcerated were not expected to leave Britain for risk of being caught, every member of the party kept their eyes open. Constant vigilance, as Mad-Eye would have said. By the time they'd finally arrived in Australia, the group had the energy to do no more than check into the hotel and fall into their respective beds.

The next couple of days were filled with tracking down Hermione's parents, a task which turned out to be relatively straightforward considering they were working for a dental practice that was within walking distance of the hotel, and determining the best course of action for restoring their memories. Hermione had quickly realized that she was really quite fortunate that so many people had felt the need to accompany her; the plan they had devised required each of them to play a role. It was decided that Fleur and Ginny would act as patients, each scheduling an appointment with one of the Drs. Granger. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, would monitor and, if necessary, distract the other dentists as well as the receptionist to ensure that no one would interrupt while Hermione and Bill, who planned to enter the practice through the back door while under the invisibility cloak, would work to restore each of the Grangers' memories as quickly as possible.

Ideally, the entire operation would take less than half an hour. However, as usual with their plans, Hermione could think only of the million and one ways it could all go wrong. She had spent no less than three hours going over every detail of the operation until Ron had declared that he'd had enough. Moments later, Hermione found herself sitting on the floor of Harry and Ron's hotel room surrounded not by a sketch of the dental practice, but instead by Harry, Ron, and Ginny (Bill and Fleur had predictably retreated to their room hours earlier). The four were sharing a couple bottles of the cheapest wine the hotel had on its room service menu and playing a rather rowdy game of exploding snap. As the cards blew up on him once again, Harry took another swig of the wine and made a face. "I think butterbeer's got more alcohol in it than this," he said.

"Well obviously, or Hermione wouldn't be drinking it," Ginny quipped.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just enough to take the edge off, and I don't think any of you fancy a hangover tomorrow."

"If you'd just teach us the sobriety charm, we wouldn't need to think about it anyways," Ron reminded her, tapping her knee lightly with his fingertips from his position sprawled on his stomach next to her.

"If you choose to overindulge, you're accepting the consequences," Hermione responded primly, doing her best not to react to the physical contact.

"Aw, c'mon. Doesn't it seem like such a waste, not teaching us all the spells we could possibly know?" Ron teased, smirking at her.

"Oh, honestly. If you want to learn more spells, I could come up with at least forty that are more useful than a sobriety charm." Hermione countered, returning his teasing smile.

"Oh? Do enlighten us, Professor Granger," he said, his eyes lighting up as they engaged in their wonderfully familiar pattern of meaningless bickering.

"Well," she began, "if you'd like to learn alcohol-related charms, I'd really suggest you look into Ogden's work on magically alterable potency. They're very tricky, but they'd have been useful considering how lackluster you all seem to find the wine we've got. Contrarily, you could reduce the alcohol content in stronger drinks if you desire," she finished rather smugly.

Ron only raised his eyebrows, laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. "Amazing. Every time, she knows everything. Can you believe this?" he asked the others.

Ginny simply turned to Harry and asked, "Have they been like this all year?"

Harry let out a short laugh. "You know they've always been like this. Probably always will be." Hermione blushed at the implications of Harry's words. A quick glance at Ron revealed that he had not missed the casual mention of their future; the tips of his ears matched his hair.

"Not quite this bad though," Ginny said to Harry, gathering the remaining cards and piling them up. "There's normally less of the goofy smiling."

"I'm sure we don't know what you're talking about," Ron said in his best impression of what he called Hermione's 'prefect tone', which caused her to smack him lightly on the arm and roll her eyes. Ron sat up and turned to her, a broad smile on his face (a smile she was beginning to realize was designated solely for her), and kissed her quickly and chastely on the side of the mouth.

"OI! Just because I've given you my permission!" Ginny barked in a clear imitation of Ron, who responded with a rude hand gesture.

At that moment, Harry let out a loud yawn through his laughter, signaling the end of the night's festivities. Ginny and Hermione briefly kissed their respective boyfriends good night, each of the boys pretending that they were oblivious to what the other was doing, and they then retired to their own room.

Hermione wasn't particularly tired, but she knew she'd need sleep before what was sure to be an emotionally taxing day. As she changed into her blue pajama shorts and an old black t-shirt of Ron's, which she had shamelessly stolen from the beaded bag with no protest from him, Ginny spoke to her from across their room: "Hermione, you know I'm just taking the piss, yeah? I love seeing you and Ron so happy after all the utter idiocy that occurred during your Hogwarts years."

Hermione laughed as she flopped down on her bed and replied, "Yes, I know. And you know Ron and I are glad you and Harry have worked things out as well. It's just strange for him."

"I reckon everything's going to be a bit strange from now on, but it feels right all the same," Ginny said thoughtfully, "for the most part, anyhow."

Hermione did not need clarification to know what she was referring to. The loss of Fred had, of course, been a touchy subject for everyone, and Hermione didn't know quite how to approach it with either Ron or Ginny. After hesitating a moment, Hermione addressed her closest female friend tentatively but earnestly, "How are you, Ginny?"

She recognized the hard look in the younger girl's eyes, having seen it many times in the past. This was a look of determination: the determination to be okay, the determination not to show any weakness. "I'm going to be fine. I'm feeling very blessed, really," Ginny said slowly, "to be here with all of you. But I think it's always going to feel like something's missing, not matter what I'm doing, and there's nothing any of us can do to change that."

Hermione nodded understandingly as she asked, "Does it help to talk about it?"

"Yes and no," Ginny said. "It doesn't really make anything better, but neither does drowning in my own thoughts." She was quiet for a moment, before adding: "George told me the other day that he's going to start working on the shop in July. He wants Ron and me to help him. You and Harry would be welcome as well, I'm sure. He doesn't want to admit it, but he could use the support."

Hermione gave a small smile, "I'd be glad to help. It'll probably be good for him to get out of the Burrow as well, don't you think?"

"Probably," Ginny replied, "but I don't think he's going to be jumping to move back into their old flat either. He knows Fred wouldn't want him moping about though. He'd want us to live, y'know? He wouldn't want us to give up everything he never had the chance to have."

Hermione sniffed loudly as she smiled at the memory of Fred, willing herself not to cry when Ginny was holding herself together so well. The girls drifted into their own thoughts for a few moments before bidding each other good night and turning out the lights.

While Ginny was breathing deeply within twenty minutes, Hermione laid awake far longer. Thoughts of Fred, Remus, Tonks, the war, her parents, and Ron drifted restlessly through her head, rendering her unable to sleep. The emotion overtaking her thoughts, though, was anxiety about the task she was to complete the next day.

Although she hadn't admitted it aloud, Hermione was terrified that she would be unable to properly restore her parents' memories. She had discussed the theory with Bill at great length, but she knew that contrary to the beliefs of one Dolores Umbridge, one could not perform satisfactory magic based on theory alone. On a more personal level, she was also wary of her parents' reactions to what she'd done to them. While they were generally rational and understanding people, they'd never fully trusted everything in the magical world, and there was no getting around the fact that Hermione had used her powers against them. She knew that her intentions were in the right place and she would absolutely do it over again, but she was almost certain it would take a long discussion to bring her parents to see the situation from her perspective. While her mother would likely try to be tactful, her father had the tendency to be very blunt about what he perceived to be the truth. Considering that she also had to tell them that she'd spent the past year as one of the most wanted people in the country and had traveled alone with two boys, who were the other two most wanted people in the country, on what they'd all viewed as a suicide mission, during which they'd brushed very near to death countless times, Hermione knew that her reunion with her parents would likely be a strange mixture of relief and tension.

She tossed and turned for well over an hour, dwelling on these thoughts, before she gave up sleep as a lost cause. Craving human company and comfort, Hermione rose quietly from her bed and tiptoed to the door that was adjoined to Harry and Ron's room. Careful not to wake the now lightly snoring Ginny, she opened the door to her room and rapped lightly on the door to theirs. Her efforts gained no response. After waiting a couple of moments, she tried again, only to be met with more silence. She was about to climb back into bed when the boys' door opened a crack, revealing a groggy freckled face.

"Hermione?" Ron breathed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered, "I just couldn't sleep. I'm sorry to wake you."

"No, it's fine. I wasn't asleep anyways." The yawn he let out as he said this gave him away immediately. Hermione considered it a sign of the conditions they'd lived under for the past year that he had woken so easily to her gentle knocking.

"No, really, I'll just lie back down—"

"Do you want to come in and chat a bit?" he asked, cutting her off. "I really don't mind. I promise I can be aggravating enough to tire you out."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Well, if you don't mind—"

Ron immediately stepped out of the way, ushering her into his room and closing the door behind them quietly. He left a hesitant Hermione at the door as he crossed the room to his own bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard, before looking up at her expectantly.

Hermione bit her lip before crossing the room and taking the other side of the bed. While only the sides of their legs were touching, she couldn't help but feel that there was something strangely intimate about their current situation. Harry remained fast asleep on his own bed, and Ron grabbed his wand from off the bedside table to cast a Muffliato charm. "Now we don't have to whisper," he said, although his voice was still quiet. "So what's got you up?"

Hermione sighed, unsure about how much she wanted to tell him. Although she realized it was very hypocritical of her to want to keep everything in when it was she that often scolded her friends for doing the same thing, she really didn't want to worry Ron unnecessarily. "I was just thinking," she answered at last.

"Imagine that," he laughed. "What about?"

"Just everything, I guess," she answered. "My parents mostly. I'm a bit anxious about tomorrow, to be honest."

"You don't need to be. If anyone can undo the charm properly, it's you." She met his earnest eyes fully for the first time since she entered the room and smiled slightly at his praise.

In that moment, Hermione felt an overwhelming sense of trust and love for the man sitting next to her. Looking back on the years they'd been friends, Hermione realized that it had always been this way; he'd always been the one she could talk to regarding just about anything—other than their respective love lives, of course. Ginny was a lovely friend who understood things the boys just couldn't, and Harry was like her brother, but it wasn't the same with either of them. She had never been as close to Ginny, and Harry had so many of his own problems that Hermione had never quite felt comfortable unloading her worries on him. Since they were eleven, Ron had listened to even her most paranoid fears. Of course, he'd let her know when he thought she was being mental, but he'd always been there and he'd always listened.

"I know I can," she said slowly, "but it doesn't stop me from worrying something will go wrong. It's what comes after that's really got me nervous though."

"And why's that?" he prompted.

"I know I did the right thing sending them here. I just don't know if they'll see it that way," she admitted. "They've never really understood magic, you know. I guess I'm just nervous to see what their reactions will be when they realize what I've done."

"That's barmy," Ron said immediately. "If they're half as smart as you are, they'll know you didn't have another choice."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think they realized how serious it was. They thought Dumbledore passed of old age, Ron, and I didn't have the courage to explain otherwise. I lied to them for years about what had been going on."

"You were protecting them," Ron said fiercely. "They're your parents, Hermione, they'll understand. Besides, if anyone's got a reason to be nervous around them, it's me." The grin that appeared on his face as he finished speaking made it clear that he thought it was about time they lighten the mood.

"And why's that?" Hermione asked shrewdly, wrinkling up her nose as she smiled at him.

"I'm the man in their only daughter's life, of course. Aren't I supposed to be every parent's worst nightmare?" Ron was smiling, but Hermione could see a bit of uncertainty in his expression.

"I hardly think the fact that their eighteen year old daughter's finally got a boyfriend is going to be a huge matter of concern for them," Hermione replied.

Ron adopted a faux wounded expression as he said indignantly, "But I'm devilishly handsome and capable of seducing you with a simple look!"

Hermione laughed, determined never to admit that there was a bit of truth in the latter half of his statement, "And I'm capable of hexing you, so I don't think they need to worry," she said sweetly.

"That's absolutely true," Ron said solemnly, able to keep a straight face only for a moment before they both succumbed to their suppressed laughter.

"I was thinking you should meet them properly," Hermione said thoughtfully once she'd calmed down. "Once they're settled back home, that is."

"That sounds utterly terrifying," Ron said, half-teasingly and half-seriously, eliciting a laugh from Hermione. "Is that all that's got you up, then?"

"No," Hermione responded, hesitating again. In the weeks since Fred's funeral, Ron had opened up to her about the subject several times, but she knew it wasn't his favorite topic of discussion. Most of their discussions, though fairly open, were clipped and brief.

She tried to keep her tone light as she said, "Ginny and I had a bit of a chat before bed. She was talking about—about Fred." Hermione felt Ron tense up beside her, but she kept talking slowly. "She was saying George is planning to reopen the shop soon after we get back to England."

"Yeah," Ron replied. "Ginny and I are gonna help. We know he wants us to, even if he's too proud to admit it publicly. I don't start training for the Aurors til January, and I figure I can find some time to help out on weekends after that too."

Hermione felt a rush of affection for Ron at his words. She laid her head on his shoulder and linked his arm through his as she replied, "That's so sweet of you."

He shrugged the shoulder she wasn't leaning on and adjusted his position on the bed to better accommodate her, moving his hand so that it was gripping the inside of her knee. "He's my brother. They're both my brothers," he said simply.

Hermione sniffed loudly, willing herself once again not to cry. "I'm sorry, Ron," she said softly.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for," he responded in a strained voice, indicating that he, too, was attempting to keep his emotions in check.

"I just wish there was more I could do," she replied.

"You've been here. That's helped more than you know," Ron said seriously.

"Where else would I be?" she replied, her voice wavering a bit.

"I dunno, probably with some smarmy bloke that's got Hogwarts, A History memorized," Ron said, rubbing his thumb gently on her knee.

"It wouldn't work though, unless he was a lanky ginger with arachnophobia," Hermione said automatically, nuzzling further into his shoulder.

Ron was quiet a moment before replying in the most honest tone Hermione had ever heard him use, "I must be the luckiest bloke on the planet, to have a girl like you even remotely interested in someone like me."

Hermione lifted her head to look at him, frowning a bit. "What are you talking about? You're a good person, Ron. The best person I know, really. You're loyal, you're brave, you're funny, and however much you try to pretend you're not, you're very sweet when you want to be."

"I've also fucked up more often than I care to think about in the last seven years, 'specially when it comes to you," he countered. "I know I don't deserve so many chances, Hermione."

"You don't deserve it because you're not perfect? That doesn't make sense, Ron," Hermione reasoned. "You've made far more good choices than you have bad ones. Not everyone would follow their best friend to the ends of the earth and back before even becoming a proper adult."

"I left," he said in a low voice.

"You came back," she responded fiercely, "and both Harry and I forgave you a long time ago."

"We don't make sense on paper," he insisted, although there was now a ghost of a smile in his expression.

"We don't have to," she responded softly, taking a deep breath, "I love you, Ron, that's what really matters."

It did not escape Hermione's notice that this was the first time she'd said those three words to him. He had used the phrase twice, although never when he wasn't either dating another girl or very emotional and slightly intoxicated. She held her breath while she waited for his reaction.

It took him a minute to digest what she had said before a telltale grin spread slowly across his face. He closed the gap between them in an instant and kissed her, softly and slowly. All Hermione's thoughts and worries washed away immediately, as they tended to do when she kissed Ron, and for several blissful moments, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

When they finally broke apart for want of air, Ron breathed, "I love you too." Hermione couldn't help but giggle girlishly at his words.

"He always wanted me to get my head out of my arse and admit it to you. Fred did, I mean," Ron told her. "George too. That's some of what we talked about, last month after…y'know. And that's why I kissed you that night, 'cos George reminded me Fred would have had my head if you'd kissed me and I'd been too pigheaded to do anything about it. They even gave me a book for my birthday last year, after they heard about the mess I'd gotten myself into."

Hermione smiled, recalling the time last July that she'd found a curious looking book entitled Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches lying underneath Ron's bed while she'd been looking for clothes of his to wash and pack. Two weeks later, she'd seen it again underneath a stack of Harry's shirts. "You mean the one you read and then passed on to Harry?"

Ron's eyes widened in shock. "How the hell do you know everything?"

"I would think you'd be used to it by now," she quipped. "Did the book really help?"

"It taught me that girls like it when you say nice things about them," he replied proudly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And that wasn't common sense to you?"

"Oh, have your laugh. Sometimes a bloke just needs a swift kick in the right direction," Ron said indignantly.

"I suppose, but you must know you charmed me long before that book came along," she said honestly.

"Really? How long?"

Hermione paused for a moment, straining to remember the moment in which she'd realized her feelings. "I'm not really sure, but it must've started around third or fourth year. It wasn't any day or time in particular. I just remember realizing I felt very, very differently about you and Harry."

"It's funny. I always thought it'd be Harry," Ron said in a falsely casual voice that indicated he didn't really think it was funny at all.

Hermione scrunched her nose up, "Why on Earth would you think that?"

"It just made sense, y'know. He's the hero and the chosen one and all that. The two of you always got on so well," Ron said, refusing to meet her eyes.

Hermione gasped, "You're serious, aren't you? You really thought—"

"The locket didn't just scream," he interrupted. His gaze was now fixed on his right hand, curled into a fist on top of her knee, and his cheeks were a rosy shade of red. "When I destroyed it, I mean. It showed me terrible things, things it had been showing me the whole time we had the blasted thing. I always thought it was all true anyways, but the locket, it—it just made it worse." He paused and finally chanced a glance at her face.

Hermione swallowed thickly as she rubbed his arm in an attempt to be comforting. "Go on. You can tell me, Ron. You know you can tell me anything."

He took a deep breath before continuing, speaking very fast, "It's just that I've always been the youngest of six brothers, y'know? It felt like anything I did, one of them had already done it first and done it better. It was different for Ginny since she was the only girl. With so many kids in one house, there were times I felt like I was on the bottom of the priority list. And then you and Harry, you're both completely brilliant, and what was I? It was just—when I left, I thought you wouldn't miss me. I knew you could do it without me. The fact is you would have, if I hadn't made it back. I'd always thought the two of you were better suited for each other anyways, and I guess in my mind it seemed like you worried about him more than you did me. The locket…it taunted me with that sort of stuff all the time. And when I destroyed it, it showed me these…images. Of you and Harry, together…" his voice dropped off as he shuddered, a haunted look in his eyes. "I know it's not true, now. Harry set me straight about the last bit once I'd finished the thing off. Said you'd always been like his sister or something like that. It's just I never thought you'd want me, y'know, with the chosen one as a best mate and international Quidditch stars taking you to dances…I just kind of got things messed about in my own head, and the locket played off of that." Ron paused for a moment and chuckled humorlessly. "I dunno if I've ever talked that much straight. Too much time to think about this shite in that damned tent. Good to tell you, though."

Hermione was temporarily dumbstruck at the end of his speech. She'd known Ron hadn't had the most self-confidence in the world, but she hadn't dreamt it had troubled him to this magnitude, and even now she felt as though he was trying to hold in some of his emotions for her sake. This was not a situation she knew how to react to. Ron had never once been this open with her. She appreciated it more than he probably knew, but she really had no idea how to react to this or to the information itself.

After a long moment, she finally spoke: "I'm so sorry, Ron. I—I should have been clearer. If I ever showed more concern about Harry, it wasn't intentional. It's just both of us were always worried about him, you know? We really—we fell apart when you left. You mean so much to me, to both of us, I just—" she broke off, sniffing loudly and wiping furiously at her eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's fine," Ron said in a soothing voice, taking his hand off her knee and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I just created a ton of problems inside my head and couldn't see sense. You didn't know."

"No, I didn't," Hermione said, clutching his white pajama shirt with one of her hands, "but you're my best friend, so I should have."

"If you can forgive me for walking out on you, I've got no problem forgiving you for something that's not really your fault," he replied calmly.

"Well, you're never going to doubt this again," Hermione said determinedly, beginning to gain control of her emotions. "I'm not going to let a day go by without reminding you how much I love you." She pressed her lips against his quickly but firmly.

Ron grinned as he pulled back. "I think I can get used to that."

And then they were kissing again, really kissing. As in "tongues and groping and moaning and never-ending" kissing. Hermione did not know how long they remained in a world that was entirely comprised of the two of them, and she couldn't recall how she ended up lying on her back with Ron hovering almost on top of her. They'd never had this intimate of a snog before; they'd never had enough time to themselves to do so, but Hermione decided then that she would go out of her way to make time, because surely nothing else in the world could be as important or as amazing as this was.

When at last they broke apart, dazed and breathing heavily, Hermione couldn't form a coherent thought to save her life. Ron kissed her once more, chastely this time, then rolled so that he was lying next to her, their legs entangled together, and pulled her into his side; she responded by curling into him and resting a hand on his chest.

They were quiet for a while, simply staring into each other's eyes in a way that was ridiculously cheesy and only acceptable when two people are in love. Realistically, they would have made fun of themselves if they could have seen what they looked like in that moment, but they were too wrapped up in one another to care.

At last, Ron broke the silence, asking, "Can we just stay here forever? Not bother with you going back to Hogwarts or all of the stuff we've still got to fix?"

"If only we could," Hermione replied, "but we've got time now."

Ron nodded in agreement, "All the time in the world, really."

"I'm never going to say this again, but I'm really glad you ignored me, Ron," she murmured appreciatively. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here with me."

Ron responded by pulling her as close to him as was comfortably possible. "Will you stay tonight?" he asked.

"Where else would I be?" she answered, repeating her words from earlier.

Within minutes, the couple had fallen asleep in each other's arms. When a smirking Harry and Ginny woke them the next morning, neither Ron nor Hermione could be inclined to care about their not-so-subtle teasing, and they didn't even notice Bill and Fleur's knowing looks at breakfast because they were too busy exchanging goofy smiles. As Hermione left hand-in-hand with Ron for the dentist's office to change the Wilkinses back to the Grangers, she felt determination rather than anxiety. She was in love, and she felt as though she could conquer the world.

A/N: Fun fact about this chapter: it's set on my birthday. :) Not the actual day I was born, mind you, I am older than fourteen. Anyhow, I went and looked it up and apparently 13 June was a Saturday that year, and I don't know why they'd make dentist appointments for a Sunday, but I'd ask for some suspension of disbelief because this takes place in mid-June anyways and it's more fun to have it on my birthday.

This was one of my favorite chapters to write thus far. And it's almost as long as the two previous chapters combined! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Let me know what you think. :) The next chapter is almost ready to go and should be making an appearance at the end of the week.