Written for my first entry in Chamber of Secrets' 4th edition of the FAD contest.

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The trio departed the headmaster's office. The war was over, but the devastation had only just begun. Ron and Hermione held each other's hands. Harry stuffed the Elder Wand into his pocket.

"I don't know about you, but I could sleep an entire decade," Harry yawned.

Stepping off the staircase and over the moaning gargoyle, they headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Off in the distance Peeves could be heard singing his Moldy Voldy song.

Ron didn't know what to think, he didn't want to think, as they made their way through the rubble, pieces of walls, portraits, ceiling, every part of the castle destroyed at their feet. It was a wonder they could move around on the seventh floor of their school. Walking up the steps to where the Fat Lady's portrait hung, Ron stepped over someone's shoe. The amount and type of debris lying around, needing to be cleaned up, was incredible.

"No password needed for you!" The Fat Lady said victoriously, swinging herself open and allowing the three passage into their familiar common room.

The rest of the school looked like a war zone, but the common room looked untouched save for a few cloaks thrown on the overstuffed armchairs and balled up parchment on a desk. Looking around, one would not be able to tell a battle had taken place all night in the rest of the building. The familiarity of the room was a comfort.

Silently, Harry continued up the staircase to the boys' dormitories. Hermione pulled Ron onto the couch.

"Hermione—" Ron started to whine, but she silenced him with a finger on his lips.

"Ron, I'm just as tired as you are, but we need to talk."

Ron slid down on the couch, his tired bones aching for a chance to rest. It had been something like 24 hours since he'd last been asleep.

"About what?" He asked.

"About what? Have you forgotten?" Hermione leaned in close to Ron. He could smell the stench of the previous battle on her. "We need to talk about what happened earlier. You know, that, that…" She trailed off.

"Oh…," Ron said. "I—I—are you embarrassed?"

"Wha—no, no, not unless you are?"

"Me? No, I've been wanting to do that for years," Ron admitted more to himself than to Hermione. His ears turned red when he realized what he'd said.

"R-really? Me, too." Hermione's cheeks turned the color of Ron's ears.

All of a sudden the image of Fred's body lying there in the midst of damaged bricks and other wreckage appeared in Ron's mind. How could he talk about kissing the girl he'd had a crush on for years when his brother would never get that chance again? Slowly, a tear escaped down his cheek.

"Are you upset? Am I—am I a bad kisser?"

"No, I think you're brilliant," he replied softly. "I just—it's not fair I get to kiss you, but F-Fr—my brother will never get to kiss another girl." At the mention of this, the tears flowed faster.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione leaned closer and embraced Ron in a hug, tears running freely onto her shoulder. "I'm being insensitive. We shouldn't talk about this right now. You've a lot to deal with. I'm sorry."

Ron wanted to say something. He wanted to tell Hermione he needed to talk to her, but he couldn't overcome the sobs that racked his body. It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to deal with this. Fred was supposed to live a long time. He wasn't supposed to die.

Ron knew things would get better. Eventually the pain of losing his brother would fade. And he knew, he just knew, one day he would marry Hermione Jean Granger.