He was tired, more tired than he had ever been. Every time after a big fight or long battle, exhaustion began to plague him like a disease. This time, however, Harry did not mind the fatigue. In fact, it was welcomed, as if he was going to sleep after a very long day, as Dumbledore might have put it. There was now closure, he thought, none of his friends or loved ones were in any mortal peril anymore.

When the Death Eaters fell back after the Battle, it was not the end of the Hogwarts term. Professor McGonagall, who was again acting Headmistress of the school, offered Harry, Ron and Hermione their old beds until the summer. As they finally had nothing else to find, nowhere else to be, they accepted. Of course, they didn’t have to attend any classes.

Lying down in his four-poster bed, Harry sighed heavily as Neville’s snores washed over him. This was what he had missed when he was searching for the Horcruxes. With a slight ache, Harry realized that he would never go to Hogwarts again. The castle, as he had maintained many times before, was the first place where he felt he belonged, was liked, was wanted, and was not treated like some unsightly condition of skin cancer. But then again, his heart swelled when he thought of all the things that would happen after he left school.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had offered Harry a place to stay at the Burrow. He had flat-out refused at first before Mrs. Weasley showed him that he had no choice in the matter whatsoever. Now, however, he was glad that he was not allowed to reject the offer. In no way was he planning on living off the Weasleys for the rest of his life, but it did brighten his day to realize that for a couple of months, until he found a place of his own, he could stay at Ron’s house. Kreacher, Harry’s house-elf, insisted on leaving his work at the Hogwarts kitchens and accompanying his master to the Burrow and wherever else he might go.

Another thing Harry loved about his life at the moment was spending time with Ginny. That was a comfort nothing else could compare to. And with every point of happiness, there was a drawback. In this case it was that Ginny would be at school next year and he, Harry, would not. Gathering up all his will power, Harry pushed away the images of her beautiful face and reddish-brown locks, as he knew he would never get any sleep if he didn’t. Just before he drifted off, his ears picked up faint words from the common room downstairs. Grinning to himself, Harry was glad his best friends’ lives were no longer complicated by his problems. For one thing, it was a blessing to be able to talk about nothing more important than Dean Thomas being caught kissing Parvati Patil in the Divination classroom.

***

“And then he said it didn’t matter whether or not I completed Year Seven, I’d still get any job of my fancy,” Hermione said, trying and failing to hide her pleasure with the conversation she had with Ernie Macmillan the other day. She was lying down on her favorite sofa, her head resting in Ron’s lap.

Ron was absent-mindedly twirling Hermione’s hair with his fingers as he listened, smiling uncontrollably. It was good that they didn’t have any classes; however Hermione did feel slightly let down that she wouldn’t be able to take the final exams. In fact, a few times Ron caught her revising for the Transfiguration NEWT with some Ravenclaws. He never realized how much fun he had with her, as they generally bellowed at each other over their homework. It was the homework, Ron decided, that was the reason they rowed with each other all the time. It was the one thing different between this stay at Hogwarts and all the others.

“You’re not surprised at that, are you?” he asked, amused by Hermione’s desire to not show pride in her extreme intelligence. Ron gave a laugh as he saw a grin creeping up Hermione’s face.

“You know me well, don’t you?” she said, looking up at him. Ron looked back into her eyes, always at peace when he did. He then realized what he was doing and immediately grew bright crimson, drawing his hands away. Hermione smiled at him and sat up. “Ron, I don’t think there’s any need to shy away from me all the time,” she said kindly, taking his hands. Why had he never noticed the spark of electricity that ran up and down his spine every time she touched him?

“Yeah, well we never really...” he trailed off, not looking her in the eye. “It’s not like we actually, you know...don’t we need to talk or something?” he asked, forcing himself to face her. She was still smiling, which relieved him somewhat. Ron kept silent until she urged him to continue. “There’s not anything specific” he said quickly, taken aback that she was waiting for him to talk. “It’s just, don’t we need to make it official?” he finished lamely.

“Alright,” she said, amused fashion.

Hermione leaned in, placing her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips to his. It was different from the first time they kissed; Ron felt doubts chasing each other around his head a few minutes after that. Was it just in the heat of the moment? Did she really feel the same way about him? She hadn’t really said much after it; they hadn’t had time. Finding the diadem and discovering what Voldemort had been doing in the Shrieking Shack were the more pressing issues at the time. This time, however, it felt real.

Ron wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back; he liked it better than Lavender’s kisses, which felt forced and generally had little or no feeling in them. Kissing Hermione made him feel slightly dizzy, but in a very good way. Her hands began to explore his back as Ron leant backwards, lying down on the sofa with Hermione on top of him. He felt a little disappointed when she drew away, but needed to catch his breath as she placed a hand on his cheek. “I love you, Ron,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he whispered back. The first time they had said it; Ron had always heard that sometimes it was too soon to say that. If that was so, it definitely was not the case with him. It felt long overdue, there were a couple of times he was bursting to say it but it kept it to himself for reasons best known to no-one.

Like Harry, Ron and Hermione felt glad that they could finally say aloud that Lord Voldemort couldn’t mess up their lives anymore.