A/N: I obviously own none of this, except in my dreams... thanks, Jo.
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At the celebration following the battle of Hogwarts, Ron Weasley sat alone at the end of the Ravenclaw table. His eyes were wet; he laid his head on his arms. He mourned for Remus and Tonks, and their now-orphaned child, but thoughts of his older brother Fred were what really haunted Ron. His stomach ached with memories. He was rubbing his eyes with the backs of his fists when he heard footsteps approach.

It was Hermione. Her eyes, too, were glistening, and she sat next to Ron, wrapped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “It’s going be OK, eventually, Ron,” she whispered into his ear. He felt her tears dropping fast onto his shoulder.

“I know, but-” his voice caught and he silenced, leaning into Hermione as they supported each other.

“Hermione?” he asked several minutes later. His voice was stronger than it had been, with a new, different quality.

“Yeah?” she replied, burying her face into his shoulder.

“Thanks…for being here.”

“I love you,” she whispered, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Ron pulled Hermione into a bear hug and knew he could never let go, because she was all that kept him tethered here, to this life. He played with her hair, which was even frizzier than usual tonight. Hermione leaned against Ron’s chest, listening as intently to the uneven tattoo of his heart as though it were the healing notes of phoenix song.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione awoke early in Ginny’s bedroom on her birthday. This year September nineteenth was a brilliant day, with that clear, aquamarine sky that reminded her of Ron’s eyes. She hopped out of bed and got dressed in dark jeans and a big, soft jumper Ron had leant her the other day, when they, Harry, and Ginny had been flying around the makeshift Quidditch field in the very chilly late afternoon. It hung halfway down her thighs and was bright orange. She hugged herself, breathing in the intoxicating boy scent that was Ron before heading downstairs.

Harry and Hermione had moved into the Burrow after the Fred’s death, simply because they could not bear to be away from their loved ones without worry overtaking them. Hermione visited her parents (who were back to their normal selves, of course) in Scotland every other weekend. But Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys agreed that they all felt more comfortable with the family --honorary members included-- together.

Hermione stepped into the kitchen. “Good morning, Harry, Ginny, Teddy!” she exclaimed with a huge smile at the baby, who grinned back at her. His face was covered in porridge.

“Happy birthday!” Ginny and Harry said in unison. Harry was making faces to try to make Teddy giggle. Teddy’s hair turned from navy blue to neon green in his delight. The little boy loved coming to visit with Harry, and his grandmother Andromeda appreciated the breaks once in awhile.

“Where’s Ron?” she wondered aloud, absentmindedly pouring herself a bowl of cereal and some coffee.

Ginny and Harry shrugged at her. Ron was usually the first one awake every morning. He loved the quiet dawn, before the house was alive with noise.

A few minutes later, Ron pounded down the stairs. “Morning, Hermione! Happy birthday!”

“Hi, thanks,” she smiled, “What’s the plan?”

Ron smiled infuriatingly. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it? Finish your cereal and then we’ll take the Portkey.”

“Why can’t we Apparate?” Hermione asked, confused.

“To make it more of a surprise!” He grinned, plopped down next to her at the table and kissed her lightly. “It’s going to be fun, don’t worry.”

Hermione smiled back, ate the last few bites of her cereal, and put the dishes in the sink. She and Ron put their fingers on the Portkey, which was an old Christmas cracker, right as it began to glow blue. Hermione felt the familiar tug on her navel and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, they were at the beach. “It’s Shell Cottage!” Hermione exclaimed happily. “Are we here to see Bill and Fleur?”

“No,” Ron smiled, “They’re away for the weekend. They said it was OK for me to bring you here for your birthday. I know how much you love this beach.”

Hermione gave him a big hug and grabbed his hand. “Thanks! This is so sweet of you!” she yelled while pulling Ron towards the waterfront.

Hermione had always loved the ocean, since she had been about two and her parents took her on holiday to the South of France. At the beach, she would barrel towards the water, forcing her mum and dad to take it in turns to chase her and bring her back up to the blanket on the sand. They called her Little Fish, and had to watch her every second. Hermione smiled at the flash of memory, and began to run towards the water.

Ron chased her, and at the waves’ edge he picked her up and spun her around like a child, which made her laugh. Hermione got down, pulled off her trainers and socks, and rolled up her pants to her knees. She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around Ron’s neck. His cheeks were pink, and he grinned at her. “Are you having a good birthday?”

She didn’t answer, but pulled him tight to her, closed her eyes, and kissed him. She ran her fingers through his brilliant hair, mussing it up, and breathed in the scent of him hungrily. Ron reciprocated as enthusiastically as usual. He lifted her again, and she wrapped her legs around his waist so as to stay up. Hermione marveled at his strength; to carry her weight for so long. She laughed as she kissed him, and he pulled away.

“What?” Ron asked. His face darkened a little with what Hermione knew was a mix of suspicion and self-consciousness. His breathing was ragged and his lips were swollen as he locked eyes with her. The ice-blue intensity of his gaze made Hermione want to blink, but she didn’t.

“Yes, I am,” she whispered, voice catching, before pulling him back toward her.

“Er, you’re what?” he pulled back again.

“Having a good birthday,” she said loudly. “Honestly, Ron, you can be very thick about some things…” But Hermione laughed then, and kissed his cheek softly, so he would know she wasn’t being serious.

He leaned back in, finally, and she could feel him grinning. After a few more minutes, Ron set her down on the sand. She curled her toes into it. “No offense, love, but my back was beginning to ache.”

He plopped down onto the sand and sat cross-legged, smiling lazily up at her. Hermione sat down next to him, and he pulled her into his lap so that they were nose to nose. He put his arms around her, protectively pulling her into his chest, and kissed her neck. “Have I told you how much I like to see you supporting the Cannons?” he breathed, tugging one of the lurid orange drawstrings on her sweatshirt lightly. Hermione shivered.

“Oh, please.”

“You’re beautiful, you know.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Yes.”

They were quiet, sometimes looking at each other and sometimes just staring at the waves as they crashed on the sand. Time seemed nonexistent.

After a while, Ron broke the silence nervously. “Hermione, you know I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And yeah, I know we’re really young,” he nodded at her, “But, er…do you want, I mean, will you, marry me?” He pulled a box out of his jeans pocket and opened it. It was beautiful, and Hermione knew the sapphire on it would always remind her of Ron’s eyes. He slid it on her finger. It was perfect.

Hermione nodded at Ron, grinned at him and snuggled into his chest. “We’re going to be so happy, you know,” she said, slightly choked up.

“Aren’t we already?”

Hermione laughed, and kissed him again. It was intense, strong, and neither of them wanted to ever stop, but it seemed like only a few seconds had passed before the sun had set. Ron stood, pulling Hermione with him, and their hands intertwined as they walked over to pick up Hermione’s trainers and socks. She knew she was so safe with him, and squeezed his hand, which was so large over hers that she felt like a child.

Then Ron said abruptly, “How many kids are we going to have?”

Hermione looked thoughtful. “Three. Two boys, one girl. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s good…but five, though,” he said with all seriousness.

“Ron, what would I do without you?” she giggled.

“Mhmm…” he smiled into his fiancée’s hair as he kissed the top of her head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Burrow, Harry was changing Teddy’s diaper while Ginny looked on, smiling at them both. “Do you know Ron is going to ask Hermione to marry him today?” Harry mused.

“No!”

“Yeah, he’s giving her this ring that was your Grandmother Weasley’s. It’s nice.”

“Nobody tells me anything!” Ginny fake-fumed.

“D’you reckon she’ll say yes?”

“Are you kidding me? They’ll probably set the date for tomorrow.”

“Nah, Ron wants to wait a bit first. He doesn’t fancy getting married at eighteen. Maybe in a couple of years.” Harry ticked Teddy’s tummy as he put a pair of coveralls on the chubby little boy, who usually looked so much like Lupin.

Ginny asked, “So why propose now?”

“Couldn’t wait, I guess?”

“That’s so romantic…” Ginny had a far-off look on her face.

“Speaking of romantic…” Harry put Teddy in his playpen with his toys and kissed Ginny lightly. “I missed you, you know, when we were broken up. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She gave him a look and said, “Me neither.”

Teddy broke into a wail and Harry scooped him up.

“Do you want me to hold him?” Ginny asked.

“Sure,” Harry said, handing over the boy, who snuggled into Ginny’s arms and quieted after a few moments. As Ginny hummed and rocked Teddy, Harry realized that Ginny was roughly the size Tonks had been- a little smaller maybe, but not drastically. Teddy looked peaceful, and Harry hoped he was remembering the mother he had not known long, but would never truly forget.

Harry smiled at the baby, who was now sucking his thumb, then at Ginny. “Thanks.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On a warm May evening, Ron stood with Harry at the front of a small, pristine white chapel. Both were in new dress robes. Five more men entered through a side door: Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hagrid. All grinned broadly, and George winked at a dark-haired girl with sparkling eyes and plaits. Next to Angelina sat Lavender Brown, who looked slightly pouty (even though she had a date), and several other friends from Hogwarts.

Soon, all attention, especially Harry’s, was on Ginny Weasley, who walked down the aisle looking beautiful in a light blue gown. After Ginny walked Luna Lovegood. Harry noted that he had never seen Luna looking so happy. Finally, Fleur swept through, gorgeous as always.

Everyone smiled when they saw Teddy Lupin walking down the aisle next. He was round-faced, rosy-cheeked, and now had curly hair the color of cornsilk. The five-year-old looked delighted to be included in the festivities, and he carried a pillow with a ring sewn onto it with reverence and pride. Right behind him was Victoire, Bill and Fleur’s daughter. She was the image of her mother, but had the bright auburn hair of the Weasley family. Victoire grinned as she threw red and white rose petals with her chubby hands.

Everyone drew in a breath when they saw Hermione on her father’s arm. She was absolutely radiant, smiling shyly in her simple white gown. Hermione had left her hair slightly frizzy, at Ron’s insistent ‘Don’t ruin it!’ Hermione’s parents, Molly, and Arthur all had tears in their eyes, and Ron looked a little apprehensive, but awed. Hermione reached the altar and stood facing Ron. They clasped hands, looked into each other’s eyes and whispered almost silently.

“Are you nervous?” Hermione breathed.

“Yeah, but in a good way,” Ron smiled softly back at her.

An organ began to play, and then a very old, wizened wizard stood. Time seemed to speed faster than it ever had. Finally, the wizard reached the crucial moment.

“Do you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, take this woman,
Hermione Jean Granger, to be your wife; do you promise to be to her a loving and loyal husband, to cherish and keep her in sickness and in health; to be faithful only to her as long as you both shall live?”

”I do,” Ron said seriously, looking Hermione straight in the eye.

“Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take this man, Ronald Bilius Weasley, to be your husband; do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal wife, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Hermione smiled broadly at Ron through a few stray tears.

Ron slipped a plain band on Hermione’s ring finger, and she put Ron’s on him.

After this, the old wizard happily proclaimed, “You may now kiss the bride!”

And Ron did. He lifted his new wife off her feet and kissed her almost exactly the same way he did the first time they kissed, five years ago. Although, Hermione thought happily, the circumstances were rather different this time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the reception later that night, which was held at the Burrow, Harry raised his glass of champagne and the crowd of relatives and friends silenced immediately.

“I would like to propose a toast to my two best friends, Ron and Hermione. May their lives together be as happy as I know they can be. I love you both.”

Ron and Harry grinned knowingly at each other for a short, almost undetectable pause. Then, Harry continued. “Congratulations! Now, on another note, I’d like to ask Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley if I could have this next dance?”

Everyone took the cue. Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, the Grangers, George and Angelina, and Hermione and Ron started to dance on the familiar golden ballroom floor to a slow Muggle song that had just begun to play. Most of the music so far had been wizarding bands, but this was Hermione’s favorite song.

Harry looked at Ginny beseechingly from where he was standing, about fifteen feet from her. He beckoned his hand, and she strolled over.

“Of course, Harry. You didn’t have to ask me in front of everyone, you know. I still would have said yes,” she laughed.

“I thought you might like it,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“You thought right,” she said, and they were dancing together.

And we are leaving some things unsaid,
And we are breathing deeper instead…

“The ceremony was beautiful,” Ginny mused.

We're both pretty sure,
Neither one can tell…

“So are you,” Harry stated baldly.

We seem difficult-
What we got is hard as hell.

Ginny gave Harry that determined look he loved so much. He raised an eyebrow and they danced a little closer. She laid her head on his chest and he kissed it, deeply inhaling the scent of her beautiful red mane of hair. She turned her face upwards and he kissed her hungrily. She reciprocated with equal enthusiasm.

A hundred thousand words could not quite explain…
So I’ll walk you to your car, And we can talk it out in the rain.

Across the floor, Hermione and Ron danced together. They didn’t see Luna lecturing a bemused Hagrid on the life of the mysterious Crumple-Horned Snorkack at a table directly to their left. They didn’t see Angelina and George holding hands beneath a large oak tree and quietly talking with sad eyes. They did not even see Molly Weasley loudly rolling out the huge white cake right across the floor. All Ron wanted to see were Hermione’s brown, smiling eyes. Hermione’s neck was a little sore from looking up into Ron’s reddish face, but she hardly noticed, and didn’t care at all.

“This is pretty cool,” Ron said.

And we are leaving some things unsaid…
And we are breathing deeper instead…

“Yeah, it is,” agreed Hermione, “Couldn’t be any
better.”

I can sing myself to sleep,
No more…

“Never let go?” Hermione whispered, almost inaudibly, an undetectable amount of time later. Her voice was soft, but a tiny amount of panic leaked into it.

Solemn, Ron shook his head. His hair, shorter but shaggy as always, caught the sun’s last ray before it set behind a grassy green hill, and he looked at Hermione intensely. “Never.”

But suffice it to say,
We're leaving things unsaid.
We sing ourselves to sleep…
Watching the day lie down, instead.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was eleven at night, and Hermione lay, wide-awake, in her bed. Ron had told her not to wait up for him, but she couldn’t help worrying. He, Harry, and the rest of the Aurors had finally discovered where the sadistic Carrows had been holing up. Alecto and Amycus Carrow faced a lifetime each in Azkaban for their horrible crimes against the children of Hogwarts during the school year that Voldemort had reigned. The criminals had escaped justice for eight years now, and tonight they would be locked up. Hermione knew Ron and Harry and the rest of the Ministry’s Aurors were more than a match for the former Death Eaters, but she also knew something else, something that she hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Ron yet.

Hermione was pregnant.

She couldn’t help but worry- what if she never got a chance to tell him he was going to be a dad? Hermione knew Ron would be ecstatic. He loved children and absolutely doted on Teddy, Victoire, Harry and Ginny’s new baby, James, and George and Angelina’s son, Fred. She knew Ron was ready to be a father, and hoped she was ready to be a good mother to her unborn child.

Hermione finally fell into a fitful sleep with her hand over her stomach, as though she could feel the tiny, brand-new life growing inside of her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, a Saturday, Hermione awoke to
Ron’s quiet snores and found that she was sleeping with his arm over her shoulder. She gently removed it and hopped out of bed into the tiny kitchen of their flat in Diagon Alley, across from Harry and Ginny’s.

Hermione got out the eggs and bacon to make Ron his
favorite breakfast and prepared to tell him their news.
Not ten minutes later she heard him get up. “G’morning,” he grunted, as he got out some plates and coffee cups.

“Hi,” Hermione replied, flinching a little as she noted a half-healed gash on Ron’s cheek, “How’d it go last night?”

“Not horrible. The Carrows really aren’t too skilled with magic- it didn’t take long to subdue them- but I hated seeing them again, knowing what they did to Ginny, Neville, Luna…everyone.”

“Well, hopefully that’ll be the last time you’ll see them.”

Ron smiled at her. “Yeah,” he paused, thinking. “Oh, hey, thanks for breakfast.”

“It’s OK- I figured you were a little tired,” She nodded at his slouching frame, “And also I have some, uh, good news!”

Ron looked at her and patted the stool beside his expectantly. Hermione took it and breathed deeply before blurting out, “Ron, I’m pregnant!”

He jumped out of his chair, grabbed Hermione up in his arms. “You are amazing!” he exclaimed. “This is great! I’m so happy, Hermione!”

She grinned, and then broke out laughing. “Me too!” Her arms around Ron’s neck, Hermione kissed him vigorously. She felt his huge smile still etched against her lips, and giggled with her pent-up excitement.

“Aha! A new cousin in the family!” Ron smiled so hard his face looked like it would crack. He put his hand on Hermione’s stomach, and leaned down to kiss her belly button. Then, all of a sudden, his happy blue eyes grew serious. “Am I going to be a good dad?” he asked worriedly, lips a breath away from Hermione’s.

“You’ll be perfect,” she whispered, stroking his red hair lovingly as they stayed together, cheek-to-cheek, for forever. “What about me? Will I be a good mum?”

She felt his nod and with that, tears streamed down her cheeks and his, and they were so close together they lost track of whose were whose. She leaned in and kissed him, excited and nervous and happy and relieved. Ron sat back down on his stool and pulled her onto his lap, whispering to her. Their foreheads rested on each other’s. Hermione craned her neck to look into Ron’s bright eyes, and then curled into his broad, warm chest. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head, bursting with pride.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

FIN.
A/N: Song is Unsaid by the Fray. Thanks for reading! Review if you have a moment. Thank you!