A/N: Thank you so much to everyone for reading and reviewing and being thoughtful and wonderful. On with the chapter!

"Ron?" Harry took a tentative step toward him. "What do you want to do? We have to write back to Kingsley."

Ron looked helplessly to Hermione, as though beseeching her to answer for him, but she could do no more than wipe the tears from her face.

If he spoke at the hearing, and the bill passed, he would have to join the Auror program, and therefore would leave Hogwarts. Hermione had to admit, if only to herself, that she too hated the thought of being apart. Selfishly, she loved having him here, she loved the quiet nights together in the common room and kisses before breakfast and the knowledge that if she needed him, he was never very far away. She would be losing all of that if he left… but then again, she could never ask him to stay, especially now that she knew how painful it was for him just to walk the halls every day.

But even if the bill didn't pass, there were still decisions to be made. If George's offer still stood, then Ron had another way out, though it would mean giving up on any option of ever being an Auror. And if he decided not to work for George, it meant six more months at a school where his only source of happiness was Hermione.

"Do we have to write back now?" Ron asked. "Don't you want to talk to Ginny?"

"She's already seen the letter, and anyway, what's there to talk about?" Harry looked over at Hermione, seeming to finally register her reddened, puffy eyes. "Why aren't you excited about this?"

Ron let out a long, slow breath. "I just need some air. I'll go to class," he added to Hermione. "I just need air."

He crossed the common room, pausing only to kiss Hermione on the forehead, and stepped out through the portrait hole. Hermione sank into a nearby chair and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing the whirring of her brain to just stop for once.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. All summer they had joked about finally having a quiet year at Hogwarts and how bizarre it would be. They had a plan: they would finish the school year, pass the relevant NEWT exams, and Ron would begin Auror training while Hermione joined the Ministry. It was supposed to be blissfully uncomplicated for once, but it wasn't working out that way. It was almost like after so many years of fear and struggles and pain, they didn't know how to just be happy.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," said Harry into the stillness of the room. "I didn't mean to interrupt… whatever it was I interrupted."

"Do you really think the bill will pass this time?" asked Hermione.

Harry walked further into the common room and perched on the arm of the sofa. "I don't know, but I have to do everything I can. Most days, I hate being here," he admitted. "And the worst of it is that I used to love it here, but when I think of everything that happened here… and anyway, it feels pointless to sit in a classroom when I could be out actually doing something."

"Sounds about right." For as long as Hermione had known Harry, he had never opted for inaction.

"And I reckoned Ron felt that way too," Harry added.

"I think he does, but… it's all just really complicated now."

"Isn't it always," Harry muttered. "Well, I've got to write back soon, so he's got to figure it out."

"That's helpful," Hermione said bitterly.

Harry stood, giving her a friendly pat on the back. "I'll see you in class."

When Hermione finally forced herself out of the common room and made her way to Charms, she found Ron waiting outside the classroom door, wearing a sheepish expression as she approached.

"I figured you didn't have lunch," he said, holding out a rather lumpy cloth napkin, "so I went down to the kitchen and got you a scone."

"Thank you."

"And…" Other students filed past on their way to class, but most seemed to disregard the couple entirely. "And I should have told you. About George, and - and all the other stuff - I never should have shut you out like that. I'm really sorry."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," said Hermione. "I should have realized what was bothering you, I don't know how I didn't figure it out sooner. I must be the worst girlfriend in the world."

"Definitely not." Ron slipped an arm behind her back and pulled her into a hug.

"We're not done talking, though," Hermione said with her face buried in his shoulder. It had barely been two days, but she had missed the comfort of his arms. What would it be like if he left?

"I know. I just don't want to fight anymore."

Rising on tiptoe, Hermione brought her lips to his for a light kiss. "Neither do I."

"Come on a walk with me tonight," said Ron. "After dinner. Please?"

"But it's going to be freezing out-"

Ron cut her off with another, more firm kiss. "Good thing we can do magic, then."

•••

The sun had already set by the time Ron and Hermione set out for the castle grounds, but with the strength of the warming charm Ron had cast, it may well have been a summer evening. Slowly, they ambled across the frosted grass, making their way to the beech tree under which they had spent so many spring afternoons in years past. The moon was a mere crescent in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the black lake.

"You're sure you're warm enough?" Ron asked, casting another charm over them.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"And your head's feeling better?"

"Much better." Hermione, surreptitiously, had managed to consume most of the scone Ron had brought her during Charms class, and that along with a dose of Pain-Relief Potion had been enough to sort her out. "I think the question is, how are you?"

His hand tightened around hers. "I don't know what to do, Hermione," he admitted. "It feels weird to even have a future, let alone have to make a decision about it right this very second."

"I just thought you always wanted to be an Auror, you and Harry used to talk about it all the time."

"I did… I do," he said, a bit hesitant. "Just because Voldemort's gone, it doesn't mean there aren't still Death Eaters out there, but then - I know it sounds mental, but I think about Mad-Eye. He was one the best Aurors out there, but he still wasn't invincible, and he was paranoid as hell, he didn't trust anyone. I just don't know if that's any way to live."

Hermione considered his words. Mad-Eye Moody had been talented and smart and incredibly brave, but he had also spent the later stages of his life drinking only from his hip flask with small chunks of his face missing. It seemed reasonable to not want to end up like that.

"And I've always loved the shop," Ron went on. "I want to help George, but what if it's not the same without - without Fred? And what if I decide I don't want to spend the rest of my life working in a joke shop?" He stopped and stepped in front of Hermione, taking her other hand in his. "Can't you just tell me what to do?"

"I don't think I can."

"But you're always telling me what to do, this is no different."

"This is completely different from making you do your homework."

The corner of his mouth arched into an affectionate smile. "So then, what do you think I should do?"

"I think you should do whatever you think will make you happy," Hermione stated diplomatically.

"But I told you, you are what makes me happy."

"Take me out of the equation," said Hermione. "What if we weren't together, what would you choose then?"

"I can't take you out of it," Ron replied, "you're my girlfriend and - and I love you and I can't make this kind of decision without thinking of you."

"Yes, you can, because I don't want you to resent me twenty years from now because whatever I said turned out not to be what you wanted."

Tipping his head to the side, Ron took a step closer to her so that their torsos almost touched. "You think we'll be together in twenty years?"

Hermione's whole face instantly heated up, and not just because of the warming charm. "I - I just meant-"

"Because I do," he offered shyly. "And I think in twenty years, if we're together and - and I don't know, maybe we have a couple of kids running around or something-" he too had now gone red in the face- "then that'll be enough for me. More than enough."

There was just enough light from the crescent moon for Hermione to see the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. A lot of the time, she felt that way about him too. If the war had taught her anything, it was that love and friendship and family would always win. But then again, she wanted a life for herself, too. She wanted a career that fulfilled her, that challenged her, one where she could, as she'd put it to Rufus Scrimgeour last summer, do some good in the world. She loved Ron more than anything, but she did not want to lose herself in the midst of all that, and he wouldn't want that for her either. Why, then, should she allow him to do that for her?

She simply couldn't.

"If you're only staying at Hogwarts because of me," she told him, finding her voice oddly thick, "then you shouldn't stay. We survived a war, we can handle a little distance."

Ron said nothing, instead simply kissing her on the lips. Dropping his hands, Hermione wound her arms around his waist and deepened the kiss, pulling his lower lip between her teeth. It wasn't that she wanted him to leave; she couldn't picture Hogwarts without Ron and Harry, but she wouldn't be the reason that he made himself miserable every single day.

"I have an idea," Hermione whispered against his lips. If his time at Hogwarts was coming to a close, she could easily find ways to make it memorable. "Come on, we're going back inside."

Intrigued, Ron followed her back into the castle, past the entrance hall where they narrowly avoided being hit with a water balloon by Peeves, and up to the fifth floor. They were the only students around - Hermione made sure of that by casting Homenum Revelio to confirm that there were no other human presences nearby. She reached the door next to the statue of Boris the Bewildered and turned back to see a look of mild disbelief on Ron's face.

"Is this really happening?"

"Looks that way," she smiled, turning to the door again. "Wintergreen."

It sprang open and they stepped inside, taking in the gleaming marble floors, the enormous tub the size of a swimming pool, the stack of thick, fluffy towels in the corner. Hermione walked to the tub and turned one of the golden taps, which immediately began to gush hot water and golden bubbles. As the tub began to fill, Hermione removed her shoes and shed her robes, stacking them neatly in the corner. Ron, mesmerized, simply watched her.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked coyly, unbuttoning her blouse. "You're going to be so behind."

"Right," Ron nodded, kicking his shoes haphazardly toward the wall. "Right, yeah, I'd hate to keep you waiting."

"Exactly."

Now down to her bra and knickers, Hermione felt the first wave of self-consciousness hit her. She had been naked with Ron hundreds of times before (or at least, it felt that way), but she didn't usually stand in brightly-lit rooms and strip while he watched. But then again, it was Ron. He loved her, flaws and all.

Reaching behind her back, she unhooked the clasp between her shoulders and let her bra fall, feeling Ron's eyes roam hungrily over her figure. Their eyes met as she looped her thumbs into the thin strips of fabric on her hips and drew them down her legs. She walked, now fully naked, over to the steps at the edge of the pool and entered the water, surrounding herself with warmth and a vaguely minty scent.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked when the water had reached her waist, for he still stood and gazed at her.

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry," he chuckled, almost tripping over himself in his haste to reach her. "Sorry," he said again as he stepped into the tub. "I sort of can't believe this is happening. I wish I had a Time-Turner so I could go back and let fifteen-year-old me know that this actually happens someday - not that he'd believe me."

"You can't use a Time-Turner to go back that far," Hermione said as the water flooded over her shoulders. "The most is five hours-"

"so I've heard," he said, still grinning. "Oh, come here." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the water so their bodies were pressed together. The pool was deep - when Ron stood flat on his feet, the water nearly reached his shoulders - which meant Hermione would be completely submerged if she did the same. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in and kissed him.

"So what else did you used to think about? Before?"

"Erm…" Ron gave a nervous laugh and kissed her again. "It's kind of embarrassing."

"No, it isn't, you can tell me." She wrapped her legs loosely around his waist. "I won't laugh, I promise."

Ron kissed her again, so gently yet with such underlying need that for a moment she forgot they were even having a conversation.

"Wait, wait," she said, leaning back. "Don't distract me. What was your fantasy about?"

"Okay, well - okay, just remember that I dreamed this up in fifth year when I was still a bit of an idiot-"

"Ron-"

"So the whole thing was, I'd be in here after a Quidditch match - obviously one where we won and I saved every single goal - and then you'd walk in on me accidentally, and at first you'd apologize, but then…" He shook his head in disbelief. "Then you'd be like, 'actually, I'm not sorry at all' and then you'd… ask to join me."

It was only because she promised not to that Hermione held back her laughter. "And then what?"

"Oh - yeah, I usually never had to go past that point." Pointedly he raised his brows. "If you know what I mean."

"Oh my God."

"You asked!" he reminded her. "Doesn't matter anyway. Nothing I could think of could ever compare to the real thing, so… so come back here."

Their lips met once again, this time with more urgency, Ron's tongue dipping into her mouth and running along the inside of her lip. His hands traveled down her back to pull her tightly against him, and the heat of the water paired with the taste of his lips had her head spinning. Wading through the water, he backed her up against the side of the tub and moved his lips down to her jaw, kissing a wet trail up to her ear.

"Ron," Hermione sighed, arching her neck, "what if… Myrtle…"

He drew away from her and looked her in the eyes. "You really know how to kill a mood, don't you?"

"It's a valid concern."

"I'm sure it'll be okay, she's got her pick of bathrooms to haunt, hasn't she?"

"I suppose…" Hermione took a second to really look at him, his flushed skin and messy hair and freckles populating the bridge of his nose. "Oh, it's fine. What's life without a little risk?"

They became lost in a flurry of eager, excited hands and golden bubbles and lips fusing against damp, hot skin. Hermione wouldn't have noticed if a meteor blasted through the castle, let alone if the ghost of a teenage witch came in to spy on them, but they needn't have worried. They were, as it always seemed to be when they were together, the only two people that existed. Despite what Ron had said, Hermione had a sense he was going to be leaving Hogwarts soon - it was really only a matter of time - and so she had to soak in every second she had with him. She positioned him between her legs, sighing as he guided himself inside, clinging tightly to his body and driving her heels into the small of his back. Ron kept his hands on her thighs, holding her in place as he pumped in and out of her, water rippling around his shoulders. Hermione's forehead fell on his, their mouths millimeters apart, breathing each other in, both half in a state of disbelief. Despite the heat of the water, shivers broke out over her skin as Ron nipped lightly at the skin behind her ear. Pinning her to the wall, he drove forcefully into her, his fingers digging into her legs as she lost all control.

"We need to get back," Hermione whispered when they were done, her arms still looped around his shoulders.

"Two more minutes," Ron mumbled, nuzzling into her neck and kissing her there. "You're so… warm… and soft…"

Hermione found his lips with hers, threading her fingers through the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. She knew she wasn't exactly helping her case like this, but she didn't fancy leaving either. If they went back, that meant they had to face the reality of the decisions looming ahead of them, and while they couldn't avoid it forever, they could at least delay it a little bit.

"I love you," she breathed between kisses.

"Love you too." Ron pressed his forehead against hers and stole one last kiss. "I reckon we've pushed our luck with Myrtle long enough though."

Reluctantly they exited the tub and used their wands to dry themselves off, then dressed. Hermione left the room first to ensure that they wouldn't be caught leaving together, and soon they were climbing a moving staircase back to Gryffindor tower. Hermione linked her fingers loosely through Ron's, reaching up to peck his cheek.

"So, I'm going to speak at the Wizengamot hearing," Ron said with a sense of stoic resignation as the stairs clicked into place in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. "It's important to Harry, so I'm going to do it."

"I'm sure he'd understand if you didn't want to."

"I know, but he'd do the same thing for me. Filibuster," he added to the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open.

Inside the common room, Harry and Ginny sat near the fire, a roll of parchment and quills strewn about on the table in front of them.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked, a little annoyed when he saw them. "I need to know what to tell Kingsley, I'm writing to him now."

"Tell him I'll do it," said Ron as he and Hermione walked over to the sofa. "I'll be there."

"Brilliant!" Harry beamed. "They've got to pass the bill now, they won't have a choice with the two of us there."

"Y-yeah," Ron nodded with half a glance at Hermione. "That's good, then."

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," said Hermione, giving Ron's hand a squeeze.

"Really?" Under the pretense of hugging her, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and ducked down to speak softly in her ear. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she said quietly, "it's just been a bit of a crazy day."

"Okay, I'll see you in the morning, then?"

"Yeah." Hermione slipped a hand behind his neck as she leaned up to kiss him goodnight, finding that he let it linger on a bit longer than he normally would in front of his best friend and sister.

As Hermione headed up the stairs, she heard Harry calling Ron over for help composing the letter.

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