Ch 1: As the Battle Ends

A/N1: This story begins a few moments before Deathly Hallows ends, and then it follows a very detailed, almost day-to-day format. I have several things to say about this story, but I'll start with the most crucial information: this story is going to be quite angsty for many chapters and it contains some sensitive themes. Although I don't believe this current chapter requires any specific warnings, some of the future chapters will include the following trigger warnings:

tw: graphic description of a decomposing body
tw: suicidal ideation
tw: panic/anxiety attacks

Each chapter will have a note with the specific tw that applies to it, but I thought I'd let you know what is to come right now, before you start reading. I hope it doesn't diminish anyone's enjoyment; I wrote the story this way because I thought it necessary for the plot and for my view of what would happen between my Ron and Hermione if things had gone this way for them.

I'll add my other comments at the end of this chapter… and now, I hope you like this first chapter!

The war was over. They had won. Who would have thought that Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards to ever exist, would die with such a lack of... of something big happening, like trumpets playing from the sky? Like in those movies Hermione liked to watch, with music that kind of hinted to the way you were supposed to feel. They needed something that would push them to explode and celebrate and make his death have more of an impact. He had only had the opportunity to watch a movie with her once, but the music had stayed with him. Instead of tense music that became triumphant, Voldemort had simply fallen to the floor like a marionette that was suddenly abandoned for another more entertaining toy. Not that it prevented them all from understanding that it was done, that Harry had conquered and had freed the Wizarding World from its biggest menace in history. Specky wanker. Ron loved the git, though. He had to find him, and help him to get away from the noise and the people that Ron was sure were driving him mental. But first...

Again, he imagined that were this a movie, there should be some sort of sad, tragic music in the background as he went looking for his family. He had been there when Fred... when that had happened to Fred, yet he couldn't quite come to grips with it. Although deep down he knew Fred was gone, his mind and his heart were still disbelieving.

Ron found most of them together at one of the long tables that everyone was sharing. His mother was trying to get George to drink some tea; Ron briefly wondered where she had gotten it. He stood next to Ginny, and she nodded at him, acknowledging his presence. "Where's dad? Percy and Charlie?" he asked.

"They're taking Fred home. Have you seen Harry?"

"No. I'll go looking for him in a minute."

Ginny nodded and then they both became silent, apparently with no more words to say to each other.

Ron didn't need to ask how George was doing. He knew all of his family was as devastated as he himself felt, and he could only imagine George was doing the worst for it. Still, he looked for his brother, and felt horribly guilty to realise that he was hoping to see Fred in his features.

Ron quickly looked away to his mum, not ready to deal with all of that just yet. She was moving to receive a cup of tea that was being offered to her. As his mum's body moved out of the way, he saw that it was Hermione who was bringing tea to her, obviously trying to help somehow.

He felt the air being knocked out of his lungs, but wasn't surprised to feel it. He was almost used to it, feeling like his chest stopped working anytime he saw Hermione suddenly like that. Yet even that didn't compare to the shock he had felt when Hermione had kissed him. Could it be, that after all this time, after all the hope and doubts and longing they would finally get together? For good? When he thought of how it felt to have her pouncing on him that way, he dared to hope that she would stay with him and love him forever.

He was staring at her, and he knew it. She must have sensed it somehow, because she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with him. She gave him a tiny, sad smile, and after getting his mum to hold the cup she was offering, started walking towards him.

"Hey," she said, standing close to him.

"Hey," he replied, looking at her. Soot stained her face in different places, although it looked like she had tried to clean a bit of it. Her hair was singed, making it look asymmetric and even messier than usual. "How are you doing?"

Hermione looked around, and he almost regretted asking as her eyes became really sad. "I'm alright," she finally said, in a tone of voice that clearly showed she was, but barely.

Ron wanted to hug her, to comfort her, and to gain just that from her. Still, he didn't want to assume things, get comfortable and reach for her, until he had had the opportunity to talk to her and do things properly. He had cocked up enough already, and had been lucky that she had forgiven him. He didn't want to try his luck and cock it up yet again, though, so he had to make sure that the kiss had meant what he was hoping for. He was dearly hoping that it hadn't been something spontaneous that didn't really mean much to her.

He cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. "Come with me? I'd like to... uhm, that is..."

Ron hated that words had failed him. If he couldn't even ask her to go walking with him, how could he hope to say anything else? Still mad at himself, he gave up and simply gestured with his head that he'd like to go somewhere else.

She nodded and they went away from the group. Walking next to each other, he almost missed the way her little finger had slightly touched his hand in passing. Suddenly, all of his attention was directed at the short distance that separated their hands. He tried not to show it, but he was desperately trying to decide if he could take her hand. It was something simple, something even good friends could do without it meaning much, but he felt that after the kiss it could mean a lot more. Ron imagined that maybe it was safest if she did it first; if it was her choice instead of his assumption. He tried to casually let his fingers touch her hand, as if reminding her that he had those long fingers at the end of his arm and that she could grab them, if she wanted...

You're a coward, Weasley, he told himself as he fought the disappointment and first tinge of doubt appearing in his gut when she did not hold his hand. "Should we sit here?" he asked, pointing at an empty section at the tables and trying to not think of everything that could go wrong.

"Sure," she said, and they sat down next to each other.

Ron was nervous. He put his traitor hands flat on the table, moving them back and forth, feeling the wood's texture for the first time. The planks were covered in dust and small pieces of debris from the battle. He blew on the old wood, trying to clean a bit of it.

Hermione laughed beside him. "Really, I think it's going to take a bit more than that to clean this place," she said.

"We have to start somewhere, right?"

"Yes. Cleaning the castle is only going to be the beginning. The whole wizarding community will need help. And I need to go find my parents before I do anything else."

"You should, otherwise the guilt won't let you sleep at night. I remember how difficult it was for you to do it." Ron looked at her, and the troubled look on her face made him push all doubts to the back of his mind. He reached for her hand to offer some kind of comfort, rubbing his thumb on her skin. "Hey, it's alright. It'll be alright. You did it to protect them from a bloody war. They'll understand. Now the war is over, innit? You're free to go get them and bring them back. I'll help you."

He was relieved to see her give him a thankful smile. He felt proud to have made her feel better, and he became resolute that yes, he would do anything to help her solve the situation with her parents.

"How are you doing?" she asked after a moment, her hand reaching for something in his hair and dropping it behind them, breaking the contact.

Ron let out a sigh, almost wishing he could block all the feelings and memories that came back with Hermione's question. He was a mix of relief, tiredness, grief, pain, rage, and more. Yet exhaustion was about as much as he was willing to look into at the moment. "I... I need to sleep. You probably feel the same. Don't you?"

"Yes. I'm starving but no feast would be as tempting as if we had access to a bed right now."

Ron looked at her, and a smile crept to his face as he saw her blushing. He knew it was too much to hope, but wouldn't it be delightful if she was imagining them sleeping together? If that was ever to be an option, they had to start proper.

"Hermione... about before..."

"Yes?"

This was the moment. It was his turn to show her-to tell her, dammit, he knew the words were important-that he was madly in love with her and that all he wanted was to kiss her again. He could feel the tips of his ears getting scalding hot; he knew they were getting red and showcasing his nervousness like two lighthouses to the world. Bloody hell. Bloody hell, talk, you idiot.

"It's me," a voice came out of thin air between them. "Will you come with me?"

Both he and Hermione jumped and stood up, and without uttering another word, followed Harry out of the Great Hall.

In a way, Ron was thankful for the interruption. He realised he needed to prepare the words he wanted to say, or he would muck it all up. That, or he could try to kiss her senseless first so that she couldn't focus on his words anyway. As if...

The three of them walked out of the Great Hall, where Harry removed the Cloak. Ron listened in awe to everything his mate was recounting, making a few simple jokes here and there to lighten up the mood. Finally, they reached what used to be Dumbledore's office, and went up with barely any comments from what was left of the guardian gargoyle. He saw his friend being celebrated by the old paintings, and how he chose to not be the owner of all three Hallows. For one crazy second, he imagined taking the wand for himself, but it took only one comment from Hermione saying Harry was right, for him to see reason and know that he wouldn't want it, not really.

They left the room, and just as Harry announced he was going to sleep, they realised Ginny had found them and was walking to them.

"Ron, Mum is looking for you. She wants to talk about the plans for the following couple of days."

"Alright," Ron replied. "You go to sleep, mate. I'll come find you after and we can go to the Burrow together."

"No, if you all can stay up, I can, too."

Ron rolled his eyes. Even if he couldn't see the way Ginny and Harry were looking at each other, he wasn't fooled as to his real reasons to keep postponing sleep. "Let's go, then."

"Hermione," Ginny commented as they went back to the Great Hall. "Kingsley was looking for you. He looked quite frantic."

"Kingsley? What does he want from me?"

Ginny shrugged. "Beats me. He didn't say."

"Where did you last see him?"

"He was going outside the main doors."

"Alright, I'll go looking for him."

Ron bit on his lip, wanting to go with Hermione but knowing he had to go to his mum first. He saw his friend and sister go in the general direction to his family, but he stood where he was. He looked from Ginny and Harry to Hermione, back and forth a few times, torn between what he needed to do and what he wanted to do instead.

She caught his eyes and gave him a little smile.

"Talk to you later?" she asked, and in her voice he sensed the same kind of dilemma he was facing.

"Yes, we'll talk later," he replied, taking her hand and squeezing it in his. Then saw her turn to go find Shacklebolt, their hands still clamped together as she took a few steps, as if they were reluctant to let go.

Next time I see her, I'll kiss her, he promised himself, and hurried to catch up with his family.

"Have you seen Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

Hermione had to ask a few people before someone was able to direct her in the right way. She didn't need to walk too far, though, for Kingsley came to her. He grabbed her arms, as if to make sure she was truly there.

"Hermione! Finally, I found you! We don't have much time left."

"Left? What's wrong?"

"You know I've been appointed as temporary Minister, yes?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, his anxiousness making her nervous. The fog on her brain was caused by both exhaustion and a sense of foreboding that made her wish Kingsley hadn't found her.

"We're trying to capture every Dark Wizard that is still free. Many of them are fleeing. We have decided to close the borders."

"What do you mean, close the borders?" She felt a bit slow; she was having problems to make sense of what he was saying. Maybe she should go to sleep instead.

"We have decided to close Great Britain's borders to all magical people. Skilled wizards are working on it right now. I recently talked to the Muggle Minister, and we have appointed trusted Aurors to work with the border security. No magical people will be allowed in or out of Great Britain for at least a month, but it could very well be more than that. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She thought she had finally caught on what he was saying. Air had left her as she heard Kingsley talk, and she had so little air left in her that the syllable had barely been audible.

"Arthur has informed me your parents are in Australia. I assume you need to go get them as soon as possible. I've managed to arrange to take you there right now, but you have to leave right away or it will be too late. I've already wasted precious time looking for you."

Too many thoughts were racing in Hermione's head. Tiredness made it all look blurry, so that she couldn't really focus on any thought. She thought of her parents and her duty to them, she thought of Ron, Harry, and the Weasleys. She thought that maybe she could wait, but then she remembered Ron saying that guilt wouldn't let her sleep at night. She knew he was right. She knew there was something she was missing.

"Hermione, we have to leave now. Are you ready?"

No, I'm not, she wanted to say. What if she failed? What if they disowned her for what she had done?

"I... Ron..."

"I'll let him know. Hermione, you have to make a decision either way. We have to be in the Ministry in three minutes for the first Portkey. After that, it's done."

"Take me to the Ministry," Hermione finally replied, closing her eyes to try to stop the nausea. She told herself she felt so horribly because she wasn't prepared for side-along Apparition, but deep down she knew that wasn't the reason she felt that way. She hadn't had time to prepare for this, to plan, to talk to Ron... Ron. She would miss him, she knew, and as she took the Portkey and felt the familiar whirlwind of traveling that way, she started to wonder if guilt would have been easier to deal with than regret.

Hermione was introduced to the Australian Minister of Magic, a Charles Olcouldron. Apparently, Kingsley had made a point of requesting that she be treated with the utmost care in honour of the English Ministry's gratitude for her service at the war. In practical terms, it meant they had gotten her a room in a fancy hotel, and given her a debit card she could use for anything she needed.

Olcouldron had informed her that he could always be reached through his assistant at any time of the day. They gave her one of those new fancy mobile phones, telling her that a few numbers had been recorded there for her to call to whenever she needed something. She looked at it dispassionately, a black device a bit bigger than a thick pack of playing cards, that opened by a hinge in the middle like some kind of plastic clam.

"Can I go to my hotel room now, please?" she asked, feeling like if she didn't sleep, she would drop dead right there. She was so tired, she almost didn't care.

She barely managed to change her clothes, all the while thinking about how she needed to find her parents fast. The sooner she found them, the sooner she would be able to go back to England and finish that conversation with Ron. The sooner that happened, the sooner she would kiss him again, and honestly, who would blame her for thinking there was no better prize at the end of this Australian task?

Ron caught up with Ginny and Harry just as they reached the table where their mum was. His dad, Charlie, and Percy were back; Bill was there as well, holding hands with Fleur. For a crazy moment, Ron realized that Fleur was the only one who didn't seem to be covered in dust and soot, glowing like she always did. He determinedly looked away, like he had trained himself to do. If he was planning to get Hermione to be his girlfriend, he didn't want to give her any reason to doubt he wanted to be with her. It didn't matter that he no longer felt anything but detached admiration for his sister-in-law; it would not do for Hermione to remember how he had been in the past, drooling over the part-veela like the pathetic ghoul he once was.

"Is Hermione joining us, son?" Ron's dad asked, his voice strained and deep.

"She will, later," Ron replied, not even thinking how normal it seemed that everyone expected him to know everything about Hermione. "Kingsley was looking for her."

"She's not going to Australia, then?" Arthur continued, a confused look on his face.

"She is, of course! She wouldn't just abandon her parents, you know," Ron said, suddenly upset that they could think she would just forget about her parents. Ron noticed that his dad still looked confused, but then gave up on the topic.

"Anyway, you can tell her later, then," Arthur conceded, putting his arm around Molly and squeezing. Ron saw his mum's eyes fill with new tears, and his own heart broke just a little more. "We wanted to discuss what we will be doing in the next few days."

"Molly and I were talking," he continued. "We know we will need to help here. But we also have to think of our family and what we need right now should come first. We're going to let the rest of the family know, but we'll request that they don't come for Fred's- funeral," Arthur managed, although his voice broke.

Ron looked at the floor, a raspy, thick ball lodged in his throat. It wasn't right. To talk about Fred and funerals in the same sentence made no sense.

"We'll put Fred to rest in the town's graveyard, two days from now. That'll be on Monday. I know I don't need to tell you I hope everyone will be there."

"Harry, dear," Molly took over for her husband. "We also wanted to let you know that we've talked to Andromeda. They will bury Tonks and Remus at the cemetery where their family has been buried for generations. She asked me to let you know that the funeral will be tomorrow Sunday evening, in case you want to assist."

"I will," Harry declared solemnly.

"You can go to Andromeda's house tomorrow around two in the afternoon. You can go with them to the cemetery."

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know," he added almost as an afterthought, and his voice showed a bit of the awkwardness that Ron was so used to hearing in his friend's tone.

Ron would have to have a talk with his friend, almost like it wasn't a talk, as he had learned it was the only way to get him to actually listen. Knowing his friend as he did, Harry was probably starting to feel guilty about everyone who hadn't made it through the battle. Ron would definitely have to get it in his head somehow, that he couldn't blame himself.

"We should get some rest," Molly continued. "Arthur and I will go home, but you can either stay here or come home with us. After sleeping for a few hours, those who went home with us can come back here to the castle to help. It's up to you, but we would like to have you all with us by tomorrow, Sunday, in the evening. We want to be together. Say goodbye to Fred properly."

Again, they all fell silent. Maybe it was that everything that needed to be said had been said, but Ron knew the truth. They couldn't talk, because they were all afraid that by talking they would have to admit that Fred was really gone.

"George, will you come with us, son?" Arthur softly asked, taking him by the arm. George didn't resist. He didn't say anything. He looked like he was Imperiused, like he had no will at all.

Ron couldn't witness it without wanting to scream, so he decided to distract himself instead.

"Harry? What are you doing, mate?"

Harry, who was also looking at George, turned to Ron too. Ron thought that maybe he wanted to escape from imagining what George might be feeling like, as well. "I'll stay here. I'll go to sleep at the Gryffindor tower."

"Alright. I'll meet you there. I'll try to find Hermione first."

"Yes, you do that," Harry countered, the ghost of a smile on his face. Ron didn't need him to say what he was thinking. Harry had seen Hermione kissing him, in any case.

"Wanker," Ron said, returning the smile, and left him with Ginny.

Ron walked aimlessly, trying to use his height to his advantage. He felt like he could recognize Hermione's hair anywhere, and tried to spot her from his vantage point. After a little while, he figured he could also look for Kingsley, since he should have been with her not long ago.

Soon, Ron's head was foggy with tiredness and hunger. He picked up a few sandwiches he saw on one of the tables; he ate three quickly as he walked and saved the rest for Harry and Hermione. He kept looking for her, imagining what would happen if he casually kissed her when he found her. If she was as tired as he was, she would either kiss him back because she wanted to or because she was too tired to fight it. She did kiss him once by surprise, so he was entitled to one of those as well, wasn't he? They could talk when they woke up.

After an hour, Ron felt like he was going to pass out from sheer exhaustion. Still, he didn't want to go to sleep without knowing where Hermione was. He was thinking that maybe she was sleeping in what used to be her bed, and so he should figure out a way to go up there, when he saw Kingsley.

"Hey! Kingsley!" Ron waved in his direction.

The wizard turned to Ron when he heard his name, and gave him a nod to indicate he had seen him. Ron walked to him, and with no preambles asked after Hermione. "Hey, have you seen Hermione?"

"Yes, I took her to the Ministry. I told her I would let you know, so I'm glad you found me."

"Ministry?" Ron asked, confused. Was he so tired he was hearing things?

"Yes. We closed the borders so no magic people can come in or out of Great Britain. Your dad told me Hermione needed to travel to Australia, so I managed to take her there before she got stuck here."

"You took her to Australia?" Ron countered, angry and dubious. Somehow, he was imagining Shacklebolt taking her against her will.

"Well, yes, it's what she wanted, no? It was either going now or waiting for a month, so she went now. She should be back as soon as the borders are open again. We expect that to happen sometime in June."

"June?" Ron repeated, incapable of properly understanding all that the man was saying.

"Yes," Kingsley replied, patiently. "Look, I can see you're about to drop on your feet. Why don't you go to sleep? Arthur knows what's going on, you can ask him more tomorrow. I'm afraid I expect to be incredibly busy during the next few days and weeks, trying to stop Dark Wizards from fleeing while trying to get some sort of Ministry working properly again."

"Sure, thanks," Ron finally said, barely registering the way Shacklebolt had squeezed his shoulder before going away.

Ron looked at the sandwiches in his hands, weirdly noticing how they were coming apart. Ron tried to keep them in one piece as he walked to his old room, arriving there to realise Harry was snoring, already deeply asleep.

Ron left the sandwiches on his best mate's bedside table, and then lay down on his own bed.

His body was buzzing with exhaustion and confusion, still unable to fully grasp the idea that Hermione had gone to Australia without him. His last thought was how unfair it was, that he had to fall asleep like this, without the kiss goodnight that he had been longing for.

A/N2: I posted another version of this chapter for last year's HP Shipping Weeks on Tumblr, which showed how things might have gone different in this chapter if they had actually held hands after Ron invited Hermione to go walking with him. But in this chapter he didn't, and here we are…

This story is soooo important to me. I've been writing it for over a year now and I'm currently editing the first version of chapter 18. Deciding to post it today came not without a struggle, because even though I recognized how fitting it was to post it today on the Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, I'm extremely nervous about it—what if nobody likes it? What if nobody reads it? I've invested so much time and creative juice into it that I'm really afraid of its reception. Still, I /am/ posting it, so I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks soooo much to Jenahid for being an awesome beta, and to Otterandterrier for being the bestest second reader ever. Your editions and comments have helped me make this story better than it would have been without all your time, help, suggestions, and comments, and I appreciate each one of them!

Because this chapter is not reaaally completely new, I'll be posting the 2nd chapter later today or early tomorrow. After that, I'll be posting a new chapter as I have time to give them a final read and prepare them for posting. Don't worry, 18 chapters are already written and waiting! The rest will be all about timing…