Firstly, a warning! This instalment contains DH spoilers, so if you haven't read... don't read!

Ok, so this one is deffinatley the longest instalment at about 5 pages in Word, so all of those readers out there who wanted me to write something a little longer, I hope your not dissapointed!

Firstly I'd just like to say a few thanks to a few people who took the time to review!

Autumn Skys, Woollongong Shimmy, Gerbil-san, anna, Cess007, Ella Bridi, thevoiceinsideyourhead, xKatie-Bearx, Emma Jane Weasley and Kat Spencer, thank you all for reviewing the second instalment!

So here it is! My third attempt at a quote based one-shot! This one isn't as much based completely on a quote as it is based around two ideas in DH which Ive picked out quotes to use for it. But I hope you'll enjoy it all the same!

And, as always we need...

Disclaimer! I'm not JK, neither am I pretending to be in anyway, so please don't sue! Its not like you'll get a lot... oh wait, maybe you will get something seen as it was my birthday last week and I just got a new mobile for it... which I've wanted for ages... and I'm really happy I've got it... OK, SO IM BEGGING YOU NOW! PLEASE DON'T SUE!

"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchatment. If I don't - well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see." Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, and put his arm around her once more. - Page 84, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, UK edition.

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"No - no no!" Someone was shouting "No! Fred! No!"

And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. - Page 512, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, UK edition.

Hermione surveyed the scene before her, it’s just the same as it has been for the past 3 days, or to put it a darker way, the same it has been since the war ended.

She is cleaning blood off the front flagstones of Hogwarts, it flakes off as she scrubs as it has dried in the three days since it was spilt. Who’s blood it was she does not know, she would only be able to guess from the list of the dead, all who died in battle. The thoughts she has while scrubbing and the actual task at hand are enough to make her sick, but she tries to hold it down as that would just be even more mess to clean, after the days they had spent restoring the castle.

Hogwarts is nearly pristine again now, thanks to the sheer number of people who turned up to help restore it, most of them remembering loved ones they had lost in the fight, all of them silent in their work.

When the flagstone before her was completely rid or the crimson stain it had bore Hermione stood up and looked at the castle before her. From the outside it now looked just like it always had, broken windows had been replaced, walls cleaned and battlements rebuilt. But somehow it wasn’t the same Hogwarts she had always known, it has lost its magic somehow. Even though the blood is cleaned away now, it still stains the walls with its memory, the castle is no longer innocent.

With the bucket and brush in hand she heads back into the castle, the muggle way of cleaning was somehow comforting to her. Many gave her strange looks as they saw her clean, all preferring to simply magically clean the mess away. But Hermione took no notice, the physical exertion of muggle cleaning calmed her, taking her mind off the horrors that had been faced if only for a while, and made her tired enough to eventually fall to sleep at night.

She heads into the Great Hall which has become a sort of base for wizards and witches who helped restore the castle. She goes to stand beside the Weasley family and Harry. They barely notice she joins them, all looking ahead somberly. As if some force has all told them its time, they stand and head toward one of the temporary fireplaces which have been sprung up and one by one, they all floo back to the Burrow.

As she steps out of the fire, everyone has already taken their seats. Mr and Mrs Weasley are sat together on a rickety sofa, Molly in Arthur’s arms as he comforts her again. Harry and Ginny are wrapped up in an armchair, sitting in silence. No-one teases or scolds the pair, just leaving them be, somehow that’s a mark of just how much the world has changed.

Bill and Fleur sit together in a similar position. The final sofa is taken up by Charlie, Ron and George. It still makes Hermione uncomfortable to look at George without the permanent presence of George beside him and the new, haunted look in his eyes. It makes him appear un-whole, like he has lost an arm or leg, although in a way he has.

Usually she would sit down on the rug, staring into the warm fire until Mrs Weasley brought the usual rounds of hot chocolate and biscuits to them all, the once comforting foods did little to help yet they did manage to take her mind of things for a while, even if it was only whilst she concentrated on drinking or eating.

But today she wouldn’t. She looked around and felt like she stuck out, like she didn’t belong with the Weasleys in such a time of mourning. Harry had always been much more accepted than her into the family, not that she hadn’t been made welcome, and know with his role as comforter of Ginny, he suddenly seemed to belong. Leaving Hermione alone, an outcast.

She heads up the spindly staircase to the room she shares with Ginny. No-one seems to notice her leave, all deeply submerged in their own thoughts. Her rucksack is already packed, she had planned everything this morning except for one thing. The note.

She pulls out a piece of parchment and picks up her ink and quill from the desk. Dipping the nib into the ink her mind lingers over how to explain where she’s going, the thought has been on her mind all day.

When she has finished she blows gently onto the ink to dry it, but a tear has somehow escaped from her eye and lands with a splat on the parchment, blurring some of the words there. She folds the note in half and writes his name on the top, leaving it on her pillow for someone to find.

She picks up her rucksack and heads quietly down the stairs, taking one last glance into the room and nothing has changed since she left it. She creeps slowly towards the door and shuts it behind her, quickly hurrying down the garden path and out into the world.

Ron’s eyes flicker over the room, his heart misses a beat when he notices Hermione isn’t sat in her usual seat by the fire. Looking at her beautiful form during these evenings has been the only thing that’s kept him sane, knowing that she is still breathing, still alive.

He hears a creak and a slight closing sound, presuming Hermione has gone to her room, he stands from the sofa and makes to follow her. He hasn’t said much to her in the past few days and he regrets it, but he had felt he couldn’t, whenever she was around it always made him feel happier, like all the pain in the world was gone and then he would look around at his grieving family, at George and the guilt would itch away.

He pushed open the door tentatively only to find the room deserted, fear skipped through him. So where was she? Kitchen? Bathroom? Yes, she was probably in the bathroom he decided, turning to leave he had almost gone when he saw the blare of creamy parchment on top of her otherwise blue pillow.

He walked back into the room and lifted it from the pillow. His eyes swept the front and saw one word which could only have been written by her.

Ron

It was printed boldly on the front, in Hermione’s neat handwriting, although this time it was shaky… had she been upset when she wrote this? How upset? The pain of Hermione feeling sad slit through him like a dagger, then the guilt, how had he not noticed she had been upset?

He unfolded the parchment with shaking hands and began to read the words she had written out just for him.

Ron,

The past few days have left me thinking about things, and I’ve decided its time for me to go and retrieve my parents. Know that the war is over I need to bring them back, its selfish really, I’m bringing them back more for me than them. You see, although your mother has been kind enough to accept me into your home, keeping me safe and cared for, at this moment I don’t really belong. Its times like these when I need to. Belong, that is. So I’ve left tonight to get my parents, sorry I never said goodbye Ron, I just… I knew it would be to hard, that’s why I’m writing this… In a way I hoped it would be easier, but trust me, it isn’t. Although the war is over and the Death Eaters are captured, leaving no danger for me, I still need to let you know something before I leave.

The thing is Ron, I love you. I always have, and I’m pretty sure I always will. I know its pretty cowardly of me to leave you with this, but I’ll be back soon and well… I suppose it will be up to you where we go from there.

All my love,

Hermione

Ron had tears of his own in his eyes as he looked at the parchment, the words he was reading becoming blurred before his eyes. She didn’t feel like she belonged here, with him? But she wasn’t really with you, was she? A voice kicked in the back of his mind. Sure, she was here around you, but you’ve not comforted her like Harry has with Ginny, Bill has with Fleur and your father has with your mother.

Ron kicked himself mentally, after all that had happened… the kiss they had shared in the heat of the battle… how could he have just… ignored her? The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks and a guilty tear finally left his eye, merging with hers on the page before him. He reached out to brush it away and some of the ink above smudged with the touch of his fingers. He moved his hand away and looked at the ink on his fingertips, it was still wet! She’d only just left… there was hope. She wouldn’t be able to apparate until she was out of the Burrows protective wards, if he ran he might be able to catch her… go with her, be there for her, love her.

He tore from the room and down the stairs, ignoring the sudden attention of his family, the questioning looks from his brothers and the shouts of his mother. He ran out of the house slamming the door behind him. He ran down the mud track that lead the Burrow to the village. He could see the gate in the distance and, he breathed a short sigh of relief, a head of bushy brown hair heading towards it. She hadn’t left yet.

He picked up his pace to the point where he was sure his feet weren’t even touching the ground. Finally he reached her, just as she had placed a shaking hand on the gate.

“Hermione” He gasped, out of breath, as he grabbed her wrist and twisted her towards him.

She looked toward him startled, her eyes widening in surprise as a last few tears left them, joining the damp tracks on her face.

“Ron…” She whispered eventually, as if unsure he were really there.

“Listen, Hermione… I’m sorry, I never realised… I’m so stupid, I was just so… with everything… and… your note… you were… you are… your going” He babbled, trying to form the right words in his mind, he had focused so much on reaching her he had not thought about what he would say when he did “I mean, ’m sorry for… neglecting you Hermione, you do belong. You belong anywhere I go, because you belong with me. I… I love you”

Hermione kept his gaze for a second, before breaking down into sobs, flinging her arms round his neck and sobbing into his shoulder.

“Shh, Hermione” Ron soothed her gently, wrapping his own arms around her and stroking her back softly “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He repeated, whispering into her hair like a mantra. She sighed softly and broke away from him, her eyes no longer wet as she looked into his eyes.

“No Ron, I’m sorry” She said, shaking her head “I’m being to selfish, I can’t expect you to be around me constantly, you need to be with your family now… after… after Fred”

“You are my family, Hermione” He told her truthfully, placing one of his hands on each of her cheeks “You’re the only girl I ever loved, and the only girl I will ever love, I can’t go on when your not here”

Hermione smiled a small, now rare, smile at him which he returned. It felt strange and stiff on his face, his facial muscles hurting slightly from lack of use. If the twins could see this they’d be teasing him mercilessly, he thought. Funny how he would think of Fred again even at a moment like this, but this time the thought didn’t bring pain or sadness, it brought a lighter, happier feeling and despite himself, he chuckled softly.

Hermione gave him a slight questioning look and took a breath before answering her, his eyes still not leaving hers.

“I was just thinking, if… if Fred could have seen me then, he’d be teasing me to hell and back right now, something about Ickle Ronniekins being in love” He said, his smile faded slightly, even though he had managed to laugh when thinking about him, a big step, it still pained him to speak about him.

Hermione must have noticed this as he felt her hand reach out and take his, squeezing slightly on contact. He smiled again and squeezed her hand back.

“I’m coming with you” Ron told her “When you go and look for your parents – I know you were going to go now, but please Hermione, I can’t… I can’t loose you again, not when I just found you. So please come back to the house with me and we’ll prepare, say goodbye and go bring back your parents, ok?”

“Ok” Hermione nodded, tears were filling her eyes again but by the look on her face he could tell they were happy ones.

He leaned down and kissed her softly, her lips just as he remembered them from the other time they had kissed, he let the warm feeling of her lips fill him up.

Then without a word the broke apart and walked back up the track to the Burrow, still hand in hand as they walked and that was then, for the first time since the war had begun, that Ron knew that everything was going to be just fine.

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