A/N Late posting this week but I do have next chapter I will be posting today as well!
Ron stood at the kitchen window, absently stirring a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Above the orchard, two figures on broomsticks wove through the morning mist, their movements perfectly synchronized despite the distance between them.
"Stop glowering," Hermione said from behind him. "They're just flying."
"I'm not glowering," Ron muttered, though he could feel the familiar crease between his eyebrows deepening. "I'm... observing."
Hermione moved to stand beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. The simple contact still made his heart skip, even after everything they'd been through. Or maybe because of it.
"You know," she said carefully, "if you hadn't burst in earlier..."
"I know." Ron set down his cup with more force than necessary. "You don't have to remind me. Ginny already gave me an earful." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even worse than before. "I just... I saw them so close together, and I remembered what Neville told us about how hard that year was on her, when we were gone. And then at the battle, when we thought he was..." His voice cracked slightly.
Hermione slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently. Above them, Harry and Ginny's distant figures executed a perfectly mirrored dive.
"They need this," Hermione said softly. "Look at them – when was the last time you saw either of them so... free?"
Ron watched as his sister performed a complex roll that he recognized from their backyard Quidditch games, the kind of showing off she used to do to catch Harry's attention. To his surprise, Harry matched the move, adding his own flourish at the end. The sound of their laughter drifted down, faint but unmistakable.
"It's strange," Ron said, his voice quiet. "Sometimes I forget that Harry... that he actually died. That he walked into that forest knowing..." He swallowed hard. "And Ginny, what the Carrows did to her while we were gone..."
"Which is exactly why they need each other." Hermione rested her head against his shoulder. "They understand each other's nightmares in a way the rest of us can't. Just like you understand mine."
Ron felt his ears grow warm, remembering the nights he'd held her after she woke up screaming, the phantom pain of Bellatrix's curse making her shake. Just as she'd been there when he jolted awake, desperately searching for his family's hands to count, to make sure he hadn't lost anyone else.
Above them, Harry and Ginny had stopped chasing the Snitch. They hovered face to face, so close their knees must be touching. Even from this distance, Ron could see the intensity in their postures, the careful way they held themselves – like two people trying to remember how to trust gravity.
"I just want to protect them," he admitted. "Both of them. Is that mental?"
"No." Hermione's voice was gentle. "But sometimes the bravest thing we can do is let the people we love figure out how to protect themselves."
A flash of gold zipped between Harry and Ginny, breaking whatever moment they'd been sharing. They both dove after it, their laughter carrying clearly now on the morning breeze.
"Besides," Hermione added, a smile in her voice, "I think they're doing just fine on their own."
Ron watched his sister execute another complex maneuver, one that brought her close enough to brush against Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't flinch away. Instead, he matched her speed, their movements falling into an easy rhythm that reminded Ron of their first kiss in the Gryffindor common room – like two pieces of a puzzle finally remembering how they fit together.
"Yeah," he said softly, feeling something tight in his chest begin to loosen. "Maybe they are."
Hermione squeezed his hand again, and Ron found himself thinking about that moment in the Chamber of Secrets, when he'd thought her brilliance must surely outshine any feelings she could have for him. How wrong he'd been. How grateful he was that she'd given him the chance to prove it.
Maybe that's what Harry and Ginny needed too – not protection, but patience. The space to remember who they were, and the courage to discover who they might become.
The sun broke fully over the horizon, painting the orchard in shades of gold. Above them, his sister and his best friend continued their dance through the morning sky, each twist and turn bringing them a little closer to whatever lay ahead.
Ron felt Hermione's thumb trace gentle circles on his palm, grounding him in the present moment. "Come on," she said. "Let's make breakfast. They'll be hungry when they come down."
"If they come down," Ron muttered, but there was no real concern in it anymore. Just the faintest trace of a smile as he followed Hermione to the stove, leaving his sister and his best friend to find their own way back to solid ground.