Save Me Tonight

WARNING: This story spoils Deathly Hallows.

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Ron dropped onto the old couch and grunted when a thin cloud of dust surrounded him. He looked at it in slight surprise. His mother had never neglected to dust before. It shouldn't surprise him, he realized, because she had just lost one of her sons. Who wouldn't leave the dusting be for a bit, he thought?

He had probably never been this tired his entire life. Feeling like this, like an energy that used to surge through him and give him strength was gone, was so depressing and it almost made his eyes burn a little bit. When Fred had gone, he had left a hole behind him. Ron had never before realized that Fred had so much space in his life, but now that he wasn't there anymore, Ron wondered why he never took the time to get to know him more. Sure, the twins weren't exactly the easiest to socialize with, but they were his brothers after all. The ones who were closest to him in age - and probably closest to his heart. Ginny had always been his baby sister who needed his constant protection, as well as his best friends, but the twins had been his true brothers. He had never felt really close to Bill, Charlie or Percy. Mostly because Bill and Charlie almost never were home when he was growing up and Percy had used to be a huge git. The things Fred and George always said to him, called him... It made Ron chuckle when he thought about it.

His thoughts strayed to Fred's last minutes in life. If Ron had been just a little bit faster, would he have been able to save him? If he had just sensed danger and darted forward to drag Fred out of the way, he would still have his brother. His heart clenched painfully and, without him noticing, a couple of stray tears rolled slowly down his cheeks, over his lips and past his chin. Ron could have saved him. He could have saved him.

He suddenly heard a low laugh from the room above him, Ginny's room. It was Harry and he was laughing. Ron blinked before he remembered all the conversations he and Hermione had had about Harry's guilt over Sirius and, later on, over Dumbledore. They had never blamed Harry, even though Harry probably could have saved them both as easily as Ron could have saved his brother. A relieved lightness fluttered in his stomach and he slowly began to remember his good memories of Fred, memories of childhood pranks and water wars and building snowmen.

"I really need to know what is so funny," said a voice.

He looked up and straight into the eyes of a smiling Hermione. "What are you talking about?"

She plopped down on the couch next to him, and he sucked in a small breath when their thighs made contact. "You were laughing a little to yourself and I think I could really use one."

He looked at her, pondering whether to tell the truth or not. Finally, he decided on the truth. "I was thinking about Fred."

Hermione just stared at him stony-faced for a second, and then she smiled widely and put her warm hand on his shoulder. He struggled to not look at it, memorizing the way her fingers formed around his gangly shoulder.

"I'm so happy that you can finally think about him and be happy," she said, and he was horrified to see that her eyes were a bit wet.

"It's no big deal," he said quickly. "I just decided that I'm not going to blame myself, like Harry used to with Sirius. Because it probably wasn't my fault, I figure."

Once again, Hermione was watching him, looking like she was analyzing his every feature or eyebrow twitch. "You really aren't fourteen anymore, are you?" she finally said.

He couldn't help but laughing. "They are finally letting me Apparate, so I guess not."

But Hermione looked serious. "No, I mean... you really aren't fourteen anymore."

Oh.

"No, I'm not," he said reassuringly. "Definitely not."

Hermione gave him a small smile, but she still didn't look fully convinced. Ron sighed and looked away. This was so new to him, and it still made him very nervous. Without looking at her, he slowly put his hand on the one she had rested on her knee. His hand almost covered hers completely, and the sight made his stomach warm.

They hadn't kissed since the first time, when they were at Hogwarts and fighting for their lives. Of course they had held hands and hugged, but never kissed. Hermione was letting Ron grieve his brother, and Ron was letting Hermione melt the idea of them together. They were waiting for each other, still, even after all these years of wanting and dreaming and wishing.

Ron was tired of waiting.

He looked up at Hermione, who was also gazing at their entwined hands with a bittersweet look on her face. He used his free hand to nudge her chin so that her eyes met his. As soon as their eyes met, he could hear her suck in a breath, and then he leaned forward.

The first and only time they had kissed, Ron had never noticed how soft her lips were, or how her nose tickled his cheek, or how her hair stroked his forehead, or how she made small noises. He felt as though his entire body was on fire, and when Hermione put a hand on his cheek, he almost pushed it away because it felt like it burned him. Although burning had never ever felt this good before, and he wished he never had to stop.

But Hermione kissed his mouth, then his cheek, then the other, and then his forehead. Then she leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes with a content smile on her face. Ron grinned.

"What are you so happy about, then? Snogged some handsome bloke lately, perhaps?" he said jokingly.

"Hush you, let me savour this," she quipped back. "Who knows when I ever will get such a kiss again?"

Ron grinned even wider and positioned himself so that when she opened her eyes, his eyes were the first thing she saw.

"Oh, I would guess that it will be in about three seconds or so," he said in a low voice, rubbing his nose playfully against hers.

And as they kissed their problems away, and instead filled their hollows with hope, he thought that he perhaps couldn't save Fred, but Hermione would always be there to save Ron.

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