The Aftermath

Author's Note: This is immediately following the end of DH, before the epilogue. I own nothing.

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Hermione & Ron

After Harry was finished talking to Dumbledore's portrait, he, Hermione, and Ron left the headmaster's office, leaving a proud and still-crying Dumbledore in their wake. None of them knew exactly what to do at this point. Hermione knew that Harry wanted sleep, so that's what she suggested to him. The trio meandered through the corridors toward Gryffindor tower. The stone hallways looked oddly intact as they neared the tower; the majority of the fighting had occurred on the lower floors.

It was almost like going back in time to their first year, before any of this had ever happened. Their lives at Hogwarts were just beginning. Harry and Ron saved Hermione from the troll at Halloween and their real friendship began. Then, Hermione's greatest priority had been her classes, grades, and exams. Harry faced Voldemort for the first time and had come out victorious, but that had mostly been Harry's quick thinking and Dumbledore's enchantment on the Mirror of Erised.

A lot had changed since then. Harry had just defeated Voldemort for the last time, and had come out victorious. His quick thinking had played a part, yes, but he had also used his mind and his knowledge acquired from seven years of schooling and battle. Dumbledore was dead, but he was not gone. The Hogwarts chapter of their lives was at a close. Their friendship had survived so many tests and trials. Not only had it survived, it had morphed into something that Hermione would not change for anything. And now, Hermione's priorities were much different.

The moment when Hagrid had walked towards Voldemort with Harry's lifeless body had been the worst moment of her life. She had been in complete shock, and had only managed a strangled cry. Ron had immediately grasped her hand as the same noise came from his mouth. As much has it had killed Hermione to see Harry, supposedly dead, she knew that if it had been Ron lying in Hagrid's arms her heart would have broken. There would have been no point in living any more. Hermione did not know what she would have done.

Despite the fact that Harry had been the one facing the most danger throughout this entire process of hunting the Horcruxes and Voldemort, Hermione had been the most worried about Ron. She had been deeply worried about Harry, of course, because she cared enormously for him, but Ron was the one she really fretted over. Those weeks traveling the countryside after Ron had left had been the most stressful for her. Her waking moments had been filled with thoughts of Ron's safety, his stupidity, and his possible return. Ronald Weasley had invaded each of her dreams, intertwined with the location of Horcruxes, Hallows, and death.

She couldn't even remember when she began to fancy Ron. It wasn't a feeling that just hit her one day. It had started as butterflies in her stomach when she was around him, and eventually developed into something much more than that. In the beginning, she had no idea if Ron reciprocated her feelings, but when the Yule Ball came around, she had recognized his reaction to her relationship with Krum as jealousy. In all honesty, that jealousy had made her happy: it had meant that he felt for her the way she felt for him. Then, when he had "dated" Lavender Brown in their sixth year, Hermione had been too jealous to think straight. That was when she had really known that her feelings were evolving into something more than a mere crush. They had merely intensified in the months that they had spent in such close quarters together. Since Voldemort's rapid rise to power, Ron had miraculously become more sensitive and tactful. He was quick to comfort her when she was upset, and he had kissed up to her after he had returned to their camp in order to get back in her good graces. These were the hints that had given her the courage to finally make a move.

The events of the past hours still had her in a daze, and she could barely remember if she had kissed Ron or merely dreamed it. That kiss had been impulsive, but she felt that she could not die without touching his lips to hers. That had been one of the best moments of her life. She would have preferred Ron had taken the initiative and kissed her first, but, as Ron was not the most forward of blokes, Hermione knew that she would have to kiss him or never be kissed. Still, it had been a wonderful kiss. Just the feeling of her lips on his had felt so right. Hermione knew that he was the last person she ever wanted to kiss.

She had actually gone through many scenarios in her head over the way their first kiss would occur. The way it actually did had never been one of the scenarios, but she could not change that now. She just wondered where their relationship would go next.

They had no idea what the password to get past the Fat Lady was, considering they had not been at Hogwarts all year. The Fat Lady must have heard about the battle, however, and she swung open to admit them without a password.

The common room was untouched. It looked just the same as it had for the past seven years. "Get some sleep, Harry," Hermione told him. She embraced him for the first time since he had defeated Voldemort. His body was very stiff, but after a few moments he relaxed in her arms. "You did so wonderfully, Harry. It's over, we can finally relax. I love you," she added, and kissed him on the cheek. She released him from the embrace and he trudged up the stairs to his old dormitory.

Then she and Ron were alone. Ron was sitting on the sofa, so Hermione took a seat next to him. She sighed heavily. Then, they were sitting in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Hermione just stared into the dark grate of the fireplace, full to the brim with emotion.

All of a sudden, Ron grabbed her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. His hand was clammy, and the contact made Hermione's heart beat faster. She turned her head to look at him to find that he was looking at her. Their eyes met. He looked as tired as she felt.

"Hermione," he breathed.

Tears were building in Hermione's eyes from exhaustion and relief. Then, she was crying.

Ron looked slightly surprised, then let go of her hand and wrapped his arms awkwardly around her in some attempt to comfort her. Hermione graciously accepted the offer and melted into his embrace. Her tears were staining his shirt, but he didn't seem to care and pulled her closer to him. His arms were now more confidently encircled around her body.

"It's over," he reassured her.

When her tears had subsided, she said into his chest: "I was so afraid that I was going to lose you, Ron."

His body stiffened, and she pulled herself from his grasp to look at him. She knew that she looked quite a sight, having just cried out her relief and fatigue after battling Death Eaters for hours, but she tried not to focus on that. Ron grabbed her hand again. Their eyes were locked, and hers were searching his for some sort of response.

"I never want you to put yourself in such a dangerous situation again," he told her seriously. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd…if you'd…" He swallowed hard.

"Ron, I love you," Hermione said, when he couldn't finish his sentence.

As friends, they said I love you often, but she could tell that Ron knew she meant it in an entirely different way. His eyes widened in shock and squeezed her hand more tightly. "I love you, too," he replied.

A smile crept across Hermione's face. The exchange seemed to be so simple, as if they said it to one another all the time. Hermione realized that those words should have been said months and months ago. After that, they settled back into the sofa, staring into the fire, fingers intertwined. For the first time in a very long time, Hermione felt content. She would not allow the tragedies of the night and of the past months creep into her conscience. The glow of Ron's words temporarily pushed the thoughts of Fred and Dobby, Tonks and Lupin, Dumbledore and Snape and Colin and Mad-Eye out of her ever-concerned mind.

It seemed, however, that Ron could not push the tragedy of his brother's death from his mind even temporarily; Hermione looked over at him when she heard a sniffle. Tears were falling swiftly down his cheeks, cutting through the filth of battle. Hermione squeezed his hand and he turned to look at her. His hurt-filled eyes met her tender expression. Her eyes told him that everything would be okay; that she would never leave his side again. She released his hand and wrapped her arms around him. His head tucked in to her collarbone, Hermione held him while he cried. She thought that her previous crying had exhausted her of tears, but apparently it was not so. Ron's crying triggered great sadness and pity within her and she attempted to keep her tears from falling on Ron's head.

She did not know how long they sat there, but the sun was high in the sky before Ron emerged, his face finally dry and his sniffles subsided. No one had returned to the common room during the morning; Hermione was sure that celebrations were still occurring in the Great Hall.

"Ron, I—" she started, but she didn't actually know what to say.

"We should probably see if Harry's all right," he said. His voice was raw from crying.

She nodded her agreement and made motions to rise from the couch, but before she could, Ron took hold of her arm and pushed his lips to hers. It was the first proper kiss they'd shared, seeing as their first took place in a corridor shared with Harry, meteres away from Death Eaters. It was a slow, soft, emotional kiss. When they broke apart they were both breathless. Their faces hovered there, inches apart, searching each other's eyes. "I love you, Hermione Granger," Ron breathed.

"I love you too, Ronald Weasley," Hermione whispered in return. "And as much as I wish this moment to last, we should make sure Harry is okay. There will be plenty of time for kissing."

This comment put a smile on Ron's face, and he laced their fingers once more as they ascended the staircase to the boys' dormitories. Although Harry had not attended Hogwarts over the past year, it appeared that he had chosen an empty bed, for there was no trunk at its foot. There were two more unoccupied beds beside it. Hermione assumed these beds belonged to Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, who had been on the run from Hogwarts for a while. Harry was still sleeping soundly. As she watched him, Hermione could not remember the last time he looked so peaceful. Suddenly, a wave of absolute fatigue overtook her and she sat down on one of the other beds, Ron beside her. Before she knew it, she was laying next to him, their heads side-by-side on a pillow, thoughts of relief and hope in her mind. A smile flitted across her face as she fell asleep, Dumbledore's mission completed, Voldemort dead, and Ron hers.