Epilogue: The One Where They're At A Wedding... Again

A/N: I love you all. More notes at the end.

(Oh, also, this contains a couple itty bitty lines of dialogue from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows... and I take no credit for them.)

"He's the father of a friend of ours," said Ron tersely. He stuck his hand out toward Hermione, and his flash of irritation dissipated. "Come and dance."

Placing her hand in his, Hermione allowed him to pull her to her feet, and together they walked to the dance floor. As they went, he overheard Viktor say to a disguised Harry, "ahh, are they together now?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry, though his voice was growing quieter as they joined the growing throng of partygoers on the dance floor. "Have been for a bit, actually."

It was an odd juxtaposition, the revelry and carefree vibe of the wedding paired with the ever-present threat of war hanging over them. Across the tent, Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with excitement, speaking animatedly to Nymphadora Tonks, while George leaned against one of the bars, a rocks glass of liquor in his hand as he chatted up one of Fleur's Veela cousins. But then there was Harry, Polyjuiced into the likeness of a redheaded Muggle from the village, and Hermione's tiny beaded bag was serving as a library and closet and first aid kit all at once in case they had to make a quick getaway. They could distract themselves, but they couldn't really escape it, and it drew nearer every second.

He didn't know what he was doing, though he suspected Hermione might; dancing lessons were just the sort of thing her parents would have signed her up for, and he thought, with an apologetic pang, that any skill she had was probably wasted on him. With Hermione so close, and the music and the crowd and bloody Krum probably watching them, his limbs felt too long, unwieldy almost, as though he had lost control of where his feet landed. He didn't know how to move, he wasn't sure he had any rhythm at all, and he had the feeling that he was making a proper fool of himself, but with Hermione he almost didn't care. He might not have a thousand more nights to dance with her like this, or even one. This could be his only chance, so he was at least going to try.

The music slowed, and he pulled her in close, one hand clasped around hers against his chest, the other at the small of her back. He didn't know any of the proper ballroom dancing moves that she did, so they just sort of swayed, rotating slowly on the spot, but she didn't seem to mind. In her heeled shoes, she was a bit taller than normal - which was convenient for him, as he didn't have to duck down quite as much to kiss her - and she rested her chin on his shoulder as a long breath left her body.

Five months on, he liked to think he could read her pretty well. That even when she didn't want the rest of the world to know what she was feeling, he still did. There was just something in the way her fingers gripped his shoulder through the fabric of his dress robes, and the way her small frame had gone just slightly rigid, that he couldn't ignore.

He kissed the side of her head, and she looked up. "You all right?"

She nodded, just one corner of her mouth tilting upward. "Mmhmm."

"M'not stepping on your feet, am I?"

"No, no." Her smile grew bolder. "This is nice."

"But?" he prompted, and she sighed again, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

"I don't want to ruin it."

"You're not going to ruin anything," he told her, giving her hand a little squeeze. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know."

"You're very sweet."

"It surprises me too sometimes," he grinned, pressing a noisy, playful kiss to her cheek. "So what's up?"

"Harry wants to leave tomorrow."

Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I know. He actually wanted to leave a week ago, but I wouldn't let him."

"I'm just scared," she confessed, her brown eyes big and dark with worry. "I'm scared for us, and I'm scared for your family, and - and then I think that we shouldn't be scared, we're meant to be brave, aren't we-"

"We'd be barking not to be scared," Ron interrupted. "But Harry's got to have a plan, hasn't he, and being brave isn't about not being afraid, anyway. It's just about doing the thing anyway."

"I suppose."

"And besides..." He broke off, readying himself for what he was about to say. Because she was right, they were leaving the Burrow tomorrow to go Merlin-knew-where with Harry, and they didn't know when or if they'd ever be back. He might never get another chance. "You know that no matter what happens, I - I'd do anything for you."

From the way she looked at him, his meaning was clear.

"You know I would do the same for you, but Ron..." She stopped in her tracks and kissed him, slowly, her hand moving from his shoulder to the side of his face. It felt like a loss when she pulled away; he wanted to believe that if he wished for it hard enough, he could halt the revolution of the planet and live in this moment forever, but he knew it didn't work like that. "Whatever's coming, we can face it as long as we're together. We got through last year, didn't we?"

"This is different now, though."

"I know, but it made us so much stronger than we would have been. We were supposed to go through all that so we could be here. Right?"

"You always are," he said as he allowed himself a little smile. "I just wish - I mean, you're right, we did have to go through all of it to be here, but a lot of the time I just wish I hadn't been so stupid for so long, y'know? I should have just told you how I felt, years ago when I first cottoned onto it. We could have been doing this at the Christmas do-"

"Nobody was dancing at the Christmas do," she reminded him with a little laugh.

"Yeah, but we still would've been there together."

"I know what you mean, but it works both ways." As the band switched songs, they picked up their slow rotation again. "I didn't say anything either, but - but I'm just glad we're together now."

"Me too." Despite the presence of his parents and his brothers and bloody Aunt Muriel, he kissed her again.

"We're going to be fine," she stated firmly. "We've always been a team, and that's always gotten us through, so we will be fine. We have to be."

Her conviction was contagious, and so he hugged her closer, letting his chin rest atop her head, and let himself savor the feeling of her petite frame in his arms. Moments like this, just between them, when he had no other obligation but just to love her the best he could, were growing fewer and farther between, and he had to soak this one in.

"As nice as this is," Hermione piped up after a few moments, "can this be our last song? These shoes are starting to pinch my feet a bit - how women wear these every day, I'll never understand, it isn't worth it."

"Yeah, course," said Ron. "We probably ought to check in on ole Barny over there, anyway." He loosened his embrace, hands sliding down her arms to hold hers. "Tell you what, you go over there, and I'll grab some butterbeers for us, yeah?"

"Perfect." She gave a little tug on his hands, so he bent and kissed her quickly, smiling at him over her shoulder as she walked off toward their table. Even as he knew he should have been scanning the crowd for a floating tray of drinks, he couldn't help but watch her, committing to memory every little thing about her - the swing of her hips, the subtle bounce of her sleek curls on her shoulders - just in case he never got another chance.

But she was right: they were a team. Together, they could get through anything.

I can hardly believe that this is over. For a variety of reasons (which I will not bore you with), 2019 has been a difficult year for me, and this summer was particularly rough. I'm not sure what it says about me that this fic, which started out as a silly way to burst through a severe case of writer's block, has been one of the few bright spots, but it has. I have loved writing it and even more than that, I have loved sharing it with everyone. The enthusiasm that has been shown for this story has truly blown me away. Of course none of it would have been possible without the support and guidance and help of aloemilk, who is the best cheerleader/beta/human that a person could ask for, along with being a really great friend. 333 Anyway, before I start to sound like I'm accepting an Oscar or something, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read and followed along with this fic, it means the world to me and I love you for it. Thank you so much.