Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N – OMG last chapter. I really really really don't want this story to end, I have absolutely loved writing it, and I think I may even have to start another one. But I felt this one had come to its natural end and if I tried to continue it wouldn't be as good. Thank you to my regular readers and reviewers, you know who you are. I am just amazed by how positively people have reacted to this story, so thank you so much.

Eleven.

Ron didn't think he had been so nervous in his entire life. Not even when he was trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, or even during the final battle. He hadn't really thought about what could possibly go wrong then. He hadn't wanted to. But as he waited for Hermione to respond to his letter, every possible scenario that was playing in his head involved her laughing at his sentiment and walking off into the sunset with Viktor Krum.

But he didn't regret writing that note, not one bit. He'd never write something like that again, that was for sure, but if she didn't accept what it said, then at least he would know for sure that he tried, and that if she didn't want to be with him, there wasn't anything he could do.

Suddenly, he heard something. Something moving outside. But the sound disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He lay back on his bed. Surely she would come and tell him in person when she'd finished reading the note. She'd want to dump him in person, he was sure. Hermione wouldn't be so cruel as to leave him in the dark, and let his imagination work overtime. Maybe he should have told her in person. Who was he kidding though? He knew he'd end up mangling his words. After all, it had taken him years to even admit he liked her. To tell her he loved her, in person, no, that was too huge.

There it was again. He'd definitely heard something this time. A knock on his door. It hadn't been loud, but he had been able to hear it easily. He heaved himself off the bed, his legs suddenly heavy. He didn't want to know what she thought any more. It had been a stupid idea, she would obviously just laugh at him, and who was he to think a letter would solve everything? Surely he wasn't that naïve. Surely he wasn't so stupid as to think that Hermione would ever have any real feelings towards him.

He went to open the door, but first, noticed a small scrap of parchment on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and throw it away, but there was something written on it. One word.

The word was "Yes".

Ron frowned. Yes what? It was in Hermione's handwriting, that was for sure. Was it in response to his letter? What had it even said? He couldn't seem to remember. He'd asked a question, obviously…

He remembered with a jolt. She had read the letter. And she forgave him Hermione, the love of his life, thought of him in the same way he thought of her.Feeling his face crack into a wide grin, he flung open the door.

Hermione was waiting for him, her eyes red, but she was smiling. She looked almost guilty, Ron thought. If she had been joking, he didn't know what he'd do… but then again, he didn't know what he'd do if she had been telling the truth.

"Did you mean it?" Ron asked breathlessly, waving the parchment at her.

She nodded slowly, her eyes glittering with what Ron realised was pure joy.

"You sure?"

"Yes." She whispered, wiping away fresh tears that ran in steady tracks down her flushed face.

"That's good then."

Hermione opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but then closed it again. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next.

Ron stood, watching her, not quite knowing what to do. He reached out and hugged her close to him, as she sobbed into his chest. I could stay like this forever, Ron thought, as he stroked her hair. It almost felt as if he were connected to her, as if they had suddenly become one person.

"I'm so, so, so sorry Ron." Hermione sobbed, her voice muffled.

"S'okay. I'm sorry too."

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you were in love with me?"

"Yeah."

"Well, as long as we both mean it…"

Hermione pulled away from the embrace, and looked up into Ron's brilliant blue eyes. He swallowed. This was it. This was the moment. And if he didn't do it now, it might never get done, he needed to kiss her, she was waiting… why couldn't he just do it? Why'd he have to be so scared? Why'd he have to think so much?

He shook his head slowly, feeling her eyes on him. Her eyes, they were so, brown. Brown with flecks of gold, he realised. He'd never noticed that before. He hadn't been this close to Hermione before. He could see every individual freckle scattered upon her cheeks, the freckles that couldn't be noticed from further away, the way her eyelashes weren't black as he'd always thought, they were in fact dark brown. And her lips. Her beautiful lips, Ron thought.

She was still looking at him. Her smile fading. Bloody hell, I actually have to do this… he thought, before moving his hand down from its position in her hair to rest on her face, just below her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek. Her eyes moved sideways, before looking back up at Ron, who suddenly found that he couldn't smile anymore. It was all, suddenly, deadly serious, and he knew exactly what he had to do. He leaned in, and their lips met.

It felt just as good as he remembered. He could somehow feel heat, and electricity, spreading through him. Suddenly, every thought, every idea, every worry seemed to drop out of his head. It was just him and Hermione, in the moment; her arms were wrapped tightly around him, and he could feel her heart beating faster.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, the kiss ended. Ron opened his eyes, feeling as if he was in some kind of a trance. What had just happened didn't feel connected to him in any way, as if it had just happened to someone else. It had been too perfect, too amazing to be part of Ronald Weasley's life. He could feel himself wobbling, as if his legs couldn't support him. He realised he needed to say something. He'd never been good at saying how he felt. Particularly when his mind seemed to be thinking about only one thing – Hermione.

"Erm, well, yeah..." he stuttered. Hermione giggled, her cheeks pink. Ron could feel his own face turning as red as his hair. God she was beautiful.

"Good, um, second kiss…" he added, hating how he didn't seem to be in control of his voice – it was almost as if he was thirteen again, and his voice was breaking. He continued, trying to steady himself.

"Yes, Hermione, very, um, good, thanks, yeah, erm, wow. Pretty, yeah. You're pretty."

"Shut up Ron, and kiss me again." came the reply.

Ron shrugged, before happily obliging.

A/N – Hope you enjoyed this story! I am starting a sequel, with Ron and Hermione etc. going back to Hogwarts for their seventh year, but it won't be up for a while, so keep checking back, or put me on Author Alert or something. Again, thanks so much for reading.

xxx