Sorry everyone had to wait so long for this final chapter! There were all sorts of things going on here, not least of all a hurricane and earthquake in one week! I hope you all enjoy this conclusion, it's a bit fluffy! Also, if anyone's interested, I have another completed multi-chapter fic called Making Memories, which you can check out by visiting my profile. Thanks again for all the responses and encouragement along the way. Enjoy!

Ron sat on a long bench at one of the tables in the large hall. Behind him at another table sat his Mum and Dad and all the Weasleys, each of them fussing over Ginny. Harry was at her side as the family listened to their story of what had conspired over the course of the evening. Mum, of course, had been incredibly worried. She was demanding answers now and Ron wasn't in the mood to give them, so he'd separated himself early on.

Hermione had been gone for what felt like ages, but may only have been half an hour. Across the room Ron spied several other small groups of people. There was a gathering of that Olivia girl and that Roberto bloke. They were with what looked like plenty of friends and family. The other one, whose name Ron couldn't remember- Andalasia, Anamortia- he didn't know, stood with a rather large group herself. In one corner, Ron saw Viktor Krum sitting on a stool. Krum's leg was bandaged up and his left arm was propped up on some sort of crutch. He looked none too pleased with his situation.

Ron tried not to smile at the sight. He was, obviously, glad to see Krum hadn't died. He'd never wanted the slimy git to bite the big one, after all, he'd just wanted him to keep his bloody hands off his girl. His girl. Ron's thoughts stalled after the words. It amazed him how easily his brain came up with that phrase. He'd spent so many years convincing himself she was out of his reach, coming up with all the reasons he knew she would always refuse him. Now, his psyche came up with the term easily, as if it was her name. My girl. It seemed so natural and Ron marveled not for the first time how much had changed that night.

Ron was distracted from his inner monologue by the sight of Lavender Brown walking toward him. Lavender was arm in arm with Neville and both of them looked incredibly proud of themselves. Ron noticed Lavender's scars, which had disappeared the last time he'd seen her, had reappeared on the blond girl's face.

"Hi Ron," she said, coming to a stop in front of him. Both Lavender and Neville were smiling and Neville nodded a friendly hello of his own.

"Hey," Ron replied, sitting up a bit straighter from his bench. He took in the pair in front of him, realizing they looked a lot more upbeat than he had after making it out of the trial.

"How're you guys doing?"

"Oh, we're fine," Neville replied with a good natured shrug. He slung an arm around Lavender's shoulder. "It got hairy for a while there, but I hear we didn't have it near as bad as you and Hermione."

Ron raised an eyebrow at that, confused. Surely they'd all gone through the same experience.

"Neville couldn't get up," Lavender answered. "I realized once he was there I needed the arrows, but I'd used them all up fighting against the boggart."

Lavender paused for a moment.

"Hermione kept trying to tell me it was important we save them," she finished quietly.

Ron gave a low laugh. It wasn't hard to imagine Hermione giving out directions throughout each of the tests. The words wingardium leviosa echoed in his head.

"Anyway," Lavender continued brightly. "After Neville tried a few other ways to get up to me, we were both sucked away from the tower. It was sort of like apparating; and then we were here."

Lavender was quiet for a moment before she added, "Guess it wasn't supposed to be me."

Ron studied the girl's expression, noticing she didn't look upset about the realization. It surprised him; he would have bet money Lavender would have thrown a fit once she found to she wasn't going to win this thing. On the contrary, her smile was so bright it outshone the scars on her cheeks. Ron stared at the marks, blushing when he saw Lavender notice what he was gawking at.

"It's okay," she said quietly. "I don't really mind them anymore."

Neville squeezed Lavender's shoulders at that, giving the girl an encouraging smile.

"Did you hear?" Neville asked, turning back to Ron. "Krum was Anastasia's knight. Can you believe it?"

Ron shook his head no. He didn't understand much of what was going on.

"I didn't even know they knew each other," he replied.

"They don't," Neville said. "Just think, if Krum never knew Hermione, he wouldn't have even been here. It's like, it all happened for a reason."

Ron nodded, bewildered by it all. Neville and Lavender walked off then, leaving Ron to his thoughts and both smiling widely at one another. Ron chuckled softly under his breath, wishing he could have seen what had gone on with the girls' tests. It had been an eventful evening, to say the least.

Ron leaned back against the table behind him, still seated at the table's bench. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep, steadying breath. He was trying to be patient, waiting for Hermione to come back from whatever debriefing she was going through at the moment. The sound of his Mum's voice cooing over Ginny behind him made him smile with his eyes still closed.

"And what are we laughing at?"

Ron's eyes shot open and he sat forward quickly, his arms unfolding and stretching out as if to reach for the owner of the sudden voice. He took a moment to remind himself she wasn't in danger anymore, then finally let himself smile warmly at Hermione.

"Didn't see you there," he said, looking up at her.

"I noticed."

Hermione took a seat next to Ron at the bench and he shifted a bit to look at her. Her dress was in tatters and her hair had gone back to its natural color and length. The curls were everywhere. She had a cut lip and dirt smudged across her forehead. Ron was amazed by how beautiful she was.

"So," Ron said finally. "Are you a princess?"

Hermione laughed a bit and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders.

"No. Turns out it's Olivia. She got back her first and I daresay she's pretty pleased about it."

Hermione pointed across the room to the young woman standing beside Roberto. They both looked banged up but happy. Ron noticed they were being congratulated by several passers-by; one of the short men in a purple cape was patting Roberto on the back so hard the young man shook with the effort.

"He seemed all right. Are you disappointed, though?" Ron asked, hating the idea that Hermione might feel let down by it all.

"Actually," she said brightly, "I feel a bit relieved."

She reached up to the bejeweled tiara that still sat atop her head from the ball earlier that evening. Ron watched as she removed it, lightly fingering the glittering diamonds and sapphires.

"I'm not really the princess type," she said matter-of-factly. "Doesn't quite fit, does it?"

Ron stilled Hermione's fingers, gingerly taking the small crown from her hands. He slowly lifted the tiara back up until it nestled at the crown of Hermione's head once again.

"It fits more than you think."

Hermione's eyes suddenly misted over and Ron was momentarily afraid he had said the wrong thing. His hand remained near Hermione's right ear and he brushed the skin of her cheek gently with his fingers. Ron felt relief flood him when Hermione's mouth broke out into a wet smile.

"What do we do now, Ron?"

Ron studied her face, sweeping the pad of his thumb over her cheek again. He watched as the action caused a faint blush just over her cheekbones and he marveled at the effect he was able to cause in her. In a moment, he could remember everything that had led them to this point. The troll; the basilisk; being hunted by an escaped Azkaban prisoner; racing through the Department of Mysteries; fighting with her; laughing with her; damning her for being the most infuriating part of his life and loving her for being the best part as well. All through it, his need to be next to her, no matter the circumstance, had always been present. And now, it seemed, it had been that way for her, too. It was like Neville said. All of it had happened for a reason.

"Well," Ron said finally, a serious tone to his voice. "I reckon there's two things that need to happen now."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I'm glad you asked. One," Ron said, holding up a finger to her then reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a bottle of pumpkin juice, uncapped it and took a long swig. He handed the bottle to Hermione who drank greedily from it before setting the empty bottle onto the table.

"Thanks," she said. "I didn't realize how thirsty I was."

Ron nodded.

"And two," he said quietly, taking one of her hands in his. "I have to tell you something."

Hermione watched him expectantly, waiting for the words she'd dreamed about for so many years. Ron could have laughed at her hopeful expression, if it wasn't so endearing.

"Tell me, please."

Ron took a deep breath, and finally let himself go.

"I'm in love with you. A lot. I mean, I reckon you already know that. Hell, I think the whole world already knows that. But, I just thought, you should hear it from me…I'm mad about you."

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck so quickly he wasn't sure she had heard everything. He didn't care. He wrapped his arms tightly around her in response, relishing the feel of her and the fact he was allowed to touch her so freely now. Hermione was shaking, whether from crying or laughing, he didn't know. She pulled back just a bit to look at Ron, and he realized it was crying. But she was smiling as well, so he figured it was a good sort of cry.

"I love you too, Ron. So much," she said at last. The two were still locked in an embrace, Hermione so close to him she was practically in his lap. He brushed a bit of hair from her face and his eyes were drawn to her mouth.

"Hermione, can I?"

She nodded softly just before he leaned the few inches necessary for their lips to meet. Ron held Hermione close to him, one hand at her back at the other behind her head, while Hermione clutched at his shoulders, as if willing him in place. The kiss was slow and sweet, each of them learning this new secret about the other. Ron had the absurd thought that she tasted better than Quidditch.

They pulled apart finally, their foreheads still touching and both panting slightly. Ron's grin spread widely across his face and he looked expectantly at Hermione as he asked her the question he had always been so afraid to ask.

"So," he said slowly. "You'll be my girl then?"

Hermione laughed out loud, finding humor in the ridiculousness of the question after everything they had been through.

"I was always your girl, Ron," she said, matter-of-factly. "I just never told you."

Ron's smile, if possible, got even wider at the response.

"Tell me," he urged, hungry for the words.

Hermione grinned brightly, her face beaming as she replied.

"Yes Ron, I'll be your girl."

And then they kissed once more, and they didn't talk again for a very long time.