Ron Apparated into the Burrow's kitchen with a resounding 'pop'. As soon as he landed, he grabbed a glass from the table and threw it down, hard. It smashed loudly against the tiled floor and flew apart into tiny pieces. He could barely hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears, and he almost missed the tell-tale 'pop' of someone else appearing in the living room. He quickly pulled his wand from his pocket and muttered a repairing charm, and the smashed glass came back together and landed, intact, on the kitchen table. He looked over his shoulder to see Hermione in the doorway, looking at the glass.

'What do you want, Hermione?' he asked, his teeth gritting together hard. He could feel his hands shaking with anger, and he shoved his wand away again before clenching them into fists.

'I want to know what the hell all that was about? I've left your family behind so they can continue to catch up with people, but I had to make up some excuse about why you'd left and why I had to follow you.' Her voice was steady but it was cool, and he could hear her anger in it. He spun around to face her.

'Surprised you noticed I was gone,' he spat out at her. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. This action pushed her breasts up, and his anger flared. He knew he should have told her not to wear the blue dress. It was far too low cut, too much of her was on show for everyone else to see.

'And what is that supposed to mean?' She was sounding exasperated now, and his anger turned from red- to white-hot in seconds.

'You bloody well know what it means!' he bellowed, and she rolled her eyes at his choice of words but didn't interrupt. 'It means you've only had eyes for Vikky all night, and I wasn't even sure why I was there any more, so I left!'

'Not this again, Ronald!' She stomped her foot in her annoyance at him. 'How many times do I have to tell you that there's nothing going on with me and Viktor, or anyone else for that matter? When are you going to start trusting me?'

'Can you blame me?' He shot back. 'With the way you were hanging off him?'

'I wasn't ... no, I don't have to justify myself. You know, this is really selfish and childish of you, Ron. Ginny and I have worked very hard this year to finish school, and the one evening we've had to be able to celebrate that and relax, you decide to make a scene and sulk, all because an old friend came to congratulate me on my graduation!'

'Are you serious?!' he all but screamed back. 'You want to talk about how hard this year has been?! I've been stuck here, Hermione, almost out of my fucking mind with worry, about whether you're safe, or whether you're struggling with those nightmares, or whether some other bloke has turned your head and you're getting ready to chuck me! And just where was darling Vikky over this last year, eh? Bit convenient that he shows up just as you've finished school for good, isn't it?'

'Don't call him that.' Her voice was scarily quiet, scarily calm, and he found that it made him more furious than if she'd just yelled back at him.

'You know what, fuck this,' he snarled. 'I don't need this shit right now, Hermione. You're welcome to stay here, or go back to your party or whatever. Just leave me alone!' With this he turned on his heel and marched away from her, heading for the back door.

'Ronald Weasley, don't you dare leave me again!' Her shriek cut through his back, into his chest and straight through his heart, which missed a beat. He skidded to a halt immediately, his pulse struggling to get back on rhythm. His body went cold with shame, and he found he couldn't face her, but he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head. He didn't know how long he would have stood there if he hadn't heard her make a choking noise. He wheeled around, alarmed.

'Hermione?!' She was gasping, her eyes wide, fingers clutching at her chest, her neck, and as he watched, she staggered.

'I don't ... I can't ...' Her face went pale, and he ran across the Burrow's kitchen, diving onto his knees on the tile in front of her, catching her as she fell. He lowered her to her knees and held her upright by her upper arms.

'You're OK, 'Mione, breathe with me, Love. In ... out ... that's it, in ... out ... in ... out ...' Slowly she regained her breath, the colour returning to her cheeks. She focused on him, and suddenly tears sprang to her eyes. He immediately gathered her in his arms, silently cursing himself. Fucking idiot, stupid, selfish prick -

'You p-promised!' she sobbed into his shoulder. He sat back on his knees and pulled her into his lap, cradling her against him. His hands stroked her back, her hair, her shoulders, every part of her that he could reach.

'I know, Love, I know. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking stupid. Please, 'Mione, don't cry, I'm so so sorry. I love you so much, please.'

He held her so tightly to him that she gasped again, and he forced himself to ease the pressure around her torso. His own tears formed in his eyes, and he rocked her with him as he sobbed into her hair. Her hands were on his neck, stroking him, comforting him. This wasn't right, he was the one who'd fucked up, he should be comforting her. He pulled back from her and cupped her face in his hands, blinking at her through his tears.

'I hate this,' she whispered.

'You have every right to hate me,' he said quietly, dropping his gaze from hers as his shame renewed itself. Between his palms, she shook her head violently, and he felt her small fingers under his chin, pushing upwards, forcing him to look at her.

'I don't hate you, Ron. I hate that I don't know what's going on in your head. I hate that you don't want to talk to me about this, for whatever reason. I hate that something is hurting you so much -' she sobbed hard, and he watched as she fought to keep talking, '- that you'd rather break a promise to me and leave again than just tell me what it is. Please, Ron, let me in!'

She dissolved again, her chest heaving and her body shaking with her sobs. He felt like he was watching her heart break, and for the first time he truly understood what Harry had tried to explain to him when he'd returned to the hunt, about just how broken Hermione had been. And here he was, opening that wound up again. At that moment, he loathed himself more than he ever had in his entire life. He had to make this right.

'I can try,' he whispered, then cleared his throat and spoke louder. 'I can try to explain, 'Mione, but I don't know if I can. It might take some time, but if this is what's needed I'll do it, for you. Please, Love, please stop crying, it's killing me, I'm so sorry.'

He stroked her back as she hiccuped, trying to take deep breaths and slow her tears. He shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged, and she was nestled in his lap. She took his hand, the one that wasn't supporting her back, and twisted her fingers between his, raising his hand to kiss it before pressing it to her cheek. She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy and wet but no longer crying. She let out a deep, shuddering sigh, and waited.

'I ...' he began, then cleared his throat and tried again. 'I've been thinking a lot recently, about ... about us.' Her hand gripped his slightly tighter, and fear flitted across her face. 'Nothing like that,' he said hastily, rubbing her back again. She relaxed a little and he continued.

'I've been having these ... these dreams. And they're driving me literally insane. I've not wanted to tell you, because you were struggling with your own nightmares. But I think I know now, what it's been like for you. They're ... Gods, Hermione, they're fucking painful and they feel so real. It's like being back on the hunt again, except this time I'm haunting myself. And I can't shake it, and I can't destroy what's causing it. I mean, we told you what came out of the fucking locket.'

She nodded silently, and he had to drag the next words from his body.

'Well, that's what I dream. And recently ... recently, it hasn't always been Harry.' He hung his head, unable to look at her as he continued. 'The most common one is about Viktor. And when we arrived at your Graduation today and he was there, it was almost like watching that dream come true. I watched him watching you, and I watched him put his hand on your back, and I watched you hug him and smile at him as you talked, and it felt like I just didn't exist.'

His voice cracked, and his heart tore inside his chest as he heaved another breath.

'It makes me think about all of the awful shit I put you through, all those years of pain, just to make myself feel better about not being able to have what I wanted, what I needed, not able to have you. I've lived for so long with this ... this fear. Of not being good enough, of being second best, of being the bottom of the pile. And I watch these guys, all so talented and smart and much better for you than I could ever hope to be, I watch them all drooling at your feet, and I think how disgusting it is for you that you have to be with someone like me out of pity or duty, and I know how fucking jealous and pathetic I sound right now but I ... I just ...'

His voice gave out in a pained cry, and he untangled his hands from her curls and her fingers to press the heels of his palms hard against his eyes. He rocked with the force of his sobs, and he descended into the black hole of despair that always seemed to be lingering at the edge of his consciousness these days. He sobbed until his ribs hurt, unaware of anything happening around him. He was totally alone, surrounded by blackness, and yet he could hear her voice, the voices of others, taunting him, picking out his faults, telling him that he was no good and never would be. He wanted to scream to drown them out, to pull his eyes from his head to make himself feel a physical pain that would take away this awful psychic torture.

He sank lower into the darkness, but even as he did he registered a change in the voices. He could still hear her voice, but the others were getting fainter. He didn't want to hear what she was saying, knew that it would be more of the same, about how pathetic and worthless he was, completely useless and always in her way, making everything worse for those around him. But her voice was growing louder, more insistent, and the tone was different. It wasn't the harsh, clipped tones of his dreams. It was soft and soothing, broken but loving. Her words began to push through the blackness, he started to hear what she was saying.

'I've got you, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, I'm here.' The words were on a loop, and as his mind started to travel closer and closer to them, he became more aware of the physical sensations around him. He could feel her legs either side of his waist and her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to her chest. Her lips were pressing into the side of his head and he could feel them moving as she continued her mantra.

The rocking of his body slowed and he pulled his hands away from his eyes to carefully wrap his arms around her, scared to move too quickly in case she turned to smoke, as she did in his dreams. When he realised how solid, how real she was, a fresh wave of sobs ripped from his chest, and he buried his face into her neck, not caring that his tears and drool were quickly soaking the thin fabric of her dress. Eventually, his crying began to subside, and he began to focus again on her voice, her words.

'Oh Ron, don't you know what you mean to me? To those around you? I wish you'd told me, I had no idea you were still hurting over this, I should have thought ... oh Love, I'm so sorry.'

He shook his head gently against her shoulder, and when he felt able to he raised it to look at her. He felt weak, drained, but mostly he felt ashamed of the way he'd acted. He was surprised to see the genuine love that shone from Hermione's brown and gold eyes as she gazed into his blue ones, her small hands caressing his freckled face, wiping at the last of his tears.

'I should have been more aware of this,' she murmured, as though to herself. 'I mean, I know how much you suffered, with the locket, with the war, with ... with Fred, but I should have stopped to think about what might have been left from all of that. You seemed to be doing so well this past year, and I guess I was just hoping you were getting back on track. But I should have known. I'm so sorry.'

'How could you have known?' His voice sounded hoarse, almost alien to his own ears. 'You're right, 'Mione, I need to talk more. I'm sorry that it came out this way, but it's been brewing a while. I honestly wouldn't blame you if you've had enough, or if any of what I said was true.'

She looked at him incredulously, slowly shaking her head. 'I think you're right, Ronald.' His breath caught, but she continued immediately. 'I think you have driven yourself literally insane. I love you. I've been in love with you since our fourth year of school. Everything we've been through has only shown me more and more of the man I love, the man you've grown to be, the man I'm proud to stand beside. I can't breathe without you, Ron, let alone carry on with anything else. Why do you think I'm always so terrified when you're away from me or when I think you're going to leave?'

He sighed at her words and pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead against hers as the remainder of his doubt and pain ebbed away. She really meant it. She really did love him. And he ... he was an idiot.

'I guess I really am just fucked up, huh?' he muttered.

'Fucked up or not, there's no-one else I'd rather be with,' she said, leaning back to look in his eyes, silently communicating the truth in her statement. She leaned down and kissed him, sighing into his mouth as she settled against him. They cuddled for a while, until Ron's joints, still pressed against the cold kitchen tiles, began to ache.

'Shall I put the kettle on?' he asked, his voice gentle, sounding drained even in his own ears. Hermione merely nodded before climbing out of his lap and into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He smiled at the way she curled into it, then turned away to make the cups of tea. It didn't take him long, but when he finally sank into the chair next to hers, she seemed calm, maybe even a little tired. He tentatively held out a hand, and she immediately grasped it in hers, squeezing his fingers reassuringly.

'I don't know what I did to deserve you,' he murmured, raising their entwined hands to brush his lips across her knuckles. 'But I'm going to damn well make sure I keep you. I'm sorry about everything, 'Mione, I ... I just can't bare the thought of losing you.'

'You have me,' she breathed, eyes bright and locked on his. 'I'm yours. I just need you to keep letting me in, and trust that I'm here for you.'

The words bubbled out of his throat before he could stop them. 'Move in with me.'

'W-what?' Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her back straightening, but the corners of her mouth had started to turn upwards. 'That's a bit sudden, don't you think?'

'I'm serious,' he said, now desperate for her answer. 'Move in with me, to Grimmauld Place. Harry and Ginny will be there, too, and there's plenty of rooms so you can still have your own space. But I feel like I need you there, 'Mione, to keep me sane. I was hoping to ask you at some point today anyway, and all of this has just confirmed that it's what I want. I know it's going to be hard, with me being away while I'm training, but you'd have Ginny around most of the time I bet, or you could always come here if you get lonely. I've just missed you so much this year, and I want to be able to come home to you after a long day, even if we just fall asleep together - '

'Wait, Grimmauld Place?' She cocked her head, confused, but he jumped in before she could go on, eager to pursuade her and take away any doubts she might have about living in the old Black residence.

'I know, I know, but Harry and I have been working really hard to make it less ... well, less Black family and more our family. You should see it, Hermione, I bet you'll hardly recognise it. We got rid of all that awful dark paint, and Harry managed to repair the family tree, so Sirius and Regulus and Andromeda are all on there again. We even got most of the old portraits down. All except Walburga, the cow, no idea what she used to stick hers up but we can't get it to shift. Bet you could, though. And Harry gave Kreature a sock, Hermione, he really did try, but it nearly killed the poor bugger. He's being all nice now, think he's terrified that Harry will try and give him the other - '

'Ronald,' she cut him off with a laugh, shaking her head. 'Only you could be so highly infuriating and unbelievably sweet in the space of an hour.'

'So ... ?'

'Yes, Ron, I'll move in with you,' she smiled at him. He grinned back, and leaned forward to crush his lips to hers, snaking his arms around her and pulling her tight against him.

'Brilliant.' He cuddled into her, breathing in the scent of her hair.

'But you're telling your mum that we're moving in together,' she mumbled against his neck, and he chuckled softly as he claimed her lips once more.