Here's how it happened, I entered a challenge prompt and wrote three different versions of this prompt. this isn't the one I submitted, but I thought to share it with you guys to show how I thought these two would be perfect for one another. this is set at T rating because I did the M rating first so I altered it a bit. I will share my third version of this prompt as a slight variation of what I thought should happen. I love the idea of crack pairing. I hate Hermione and Ron together. A) they fight so much that i found it annoying. B) i never liked Ginny Weasley with that POTTER Boy! so I have another pairing with Hermione and Potter and it's coming soon. I enjoy writing little fics that may or may not have happened

I also swear when I need too. so read at your own pleasure. Please feel free to add comments or even suggest ideas. I am always open to answer you and take requests.

Happy reading.

It's usually around this time of year when the moon is full and the sun sets when the night terrors start. He sat up panting; heart palpitating like it would leap right out of his chest. With a white knuckle grip he holds the sheets until the feeling of trepidation passes. Each time it happens it doesn't get any easier. Fuck this anxiety that builds inside of him.

He silently slides out of bed to not disturb his wife while she slept soundly next to him; the air was cool to his sweaty skin, as he crosses the floor to the window, he looks below, nothing but a mist fills the quiet city streets. Muggles were fast asleep but soon North London will be busy with shoppers, business men and the likes. Within hours he'll be among the many men working his joke shop with George.

Ron found himself in the dark (he truly loved his Put-Outer) at the table with a glass with two fingers full of some kind of whisky, and the bottle nearly empty. Memories of the Second Wizarding War still flashes hauntingly before him, and the image of his brother Fred lying still made his hand shake as he takes another sip to ease this pain.

He didn't know how long she stood there, but he finally saw her lurking in the shadows, was it Pansy Parkison?

She looks ashen white, eyes swollen, red from crying. Her voice was all he heard. "I'm sorry, R-r-ron." Her bottom lip quivers.

Both Hermione and Harry stood but he waved them away; he steps forward slowly at first towards to the grief stricken Slytherin girl.

She steps back as he steps forward; her eyes wary of him. She looks so small to him, like a child lost.

"It's over now."

Instincts told him to reach for her, and with a stretched out hand full of bruises, cuts and a cuff full of dried blood he pulls her into a hug allowing her to unleash her fears and sorrows on him.

"Draco's gone." She cried harder into his chest.

Ron gulps, this girl needed a friend now more than ever now. The fact that Draco left was a sure telltale sign of the cowardice he really is.

He pulls back, his eyes scans hers, all he saw at first was sorrow, and then a flash of heated anger rose inside of her.

Her voice wasn't her own as she felt her mouth move, "Soon, as shit got real, he fucked off with his cowardly parents. Fuck him! Fuck him!"

He felt the crowd's eyes focus on him; but more importantly his mother's voice spoke out with a sadness that needed to be heard. "A lot was lost Ron." He knew it was his decision to help Pansy pull out of her hatred but before he could respond she moved with speed that he didn't encounter.

Pansy charges at him with wand ready to strike pointing at his neck ready to utter a curse or worse but he didn't flinch with all he's seen and done that day this wasn't really a threat for him to worry about. He hears Professor McGonagall speak for the first time since they gathered in the Great Hall before the war begun. "Miss Parkison, stand your wand down."

"That's ok Professor McGonagall let me take care of this." Ron stared Pansy down his eyes completely focused on hers. Voice level he spoke, "We are not the enemy, lower your wand."

"If I do, you'll send me to prison." She kept her wand level at his neck.

He waves the voices off all harmonizing together with agreement on prison. His voice is even as he spoke each word. "No one is going to prison." He said casually.

Suddenly, Ron's eyes pops open, he had fallen asleep at the table, with his whisky bottle empty and he drains the rest of what was left in the glass.

It was tempting to get dressed and find a local bar still open or a place selling liquor; he wanted to forget this day ever happened and yet it sill burns a terrible migraine in the back of his mind. Nothing would numb it away so he scratches his two day old beard and thought long and hard about leaving.

Ron stood and walks slowly to his bedroom noticing the glow of candle light flickering in the room. He toes the door open and stood there just inside watching his wife reading a book head leaning on the headboard, the sheets slips down exposing naked breasts sometime in the night she had stripped off her bed clothing. Pansy closes her book marking her place as she could feel him watching her.

"Come here." She purrs softly patting the empty side of the queen size bed.

He does just that. Before he does, he slips his boxers off letting them lay where he stood and responds to her alluring jester. He slides quietly besides her allowing his hand to rest on her hip.

"I felt you wake." She turns to face him her eyes darkening as she spoke softly to him.

"The mist is thick—shh, don't worry about it." He nuzzles into her neck, the same warm cinnamon scent wafts into his nostrils that he remembers from years ago.

Pansy cranes her neck slightly liking the bristliness of his stubbly beard.

He cradles her trying to block out the end of the war but the memories don't fade at all.

"You saved me that day."

Ron studies her somber face, "And you with me."

He took his fingers and lightly brushes her bangs out of her face. He sighs, "You know they're naming the new hallway in honor of Professor Snape."

She shifts to face him more easily, feeling safe and warm in his embrace, "We should go…will Granger be there?"

"I suspect so."

"And Potter, with his wife?" Pansy never really understood why he liked Ron's sister.

"Yep, and George…maybe mum and dad, maybe others, it's going to be quite an affair."

They talk like this for a bit longer, questioning the possibility of what others will think of them together. No more wars, all houses created equal – they will have to agree to disagree on this.

Pansy closes her eyes as Ron blows out the candle allowing the rain be the only thing to worry about before the big day. The last thing she hears is three little words.

I love you!

Fin