A/N: This is the final chapter! There is a piece of wonderful art to go with it as well and I will include a link at the end of the chapter. Thanks so much, everybody, for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 7

June 10, 1998

Ron opened his eyes to a complete mess of brown curls, an inch away from his face. His smile grew as he replayed every detail... but then he heard a sound from outside his little cocoon...

A light groan and the creak of couch springs. Harry. There was a long silent pause, followed by footsteps.

Listening carefully, Ron was sure Harry had left the tent. And Ron knew what he had to do, as much as he wanted to ignore it, to remain here in heaven with Hermione... He sighed and withdrew his arm from around her, pausing long enough to take in the sight of her naked back and shoulders as he searched for his boxers. Finding them finally amidst the mess of blankets and clothing, he slid them on and slipped out of bed, padding lazily towards the tent flap.

He opened the flap just barely and spotted Harry standing a few feet away, a mug of tea in his hands. The sun wasn't even up properly yet, sky still very light blue, air chilly.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron whispered thickly as he stepped all the way out of the tent, wrapping his arms around his naked body.

Naked. Great. He realized too late the implication he had surely created by standing here mostly naked in front of Harry, knowing that Harry knew full well who had slept in bed with Ron the night before...

Sure enough, Harry raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated way, and Ron could do nothing but shrug. Oh well. Harry would have found out sooner or later...

"Pretty sure you get to go first," Harry said, eyeing Ron where he stood, barefoot and shivering slightly, just outside the tent flap.

"I asked first, and you woke me up," Ron pointed out.

"Fine, I had a headache so I thought some tea and fresh air would help..." Harry paused and took a few steps back towards the tent to stand directly in front of Ron. "Now you go."

"You'll have to ask something more specific. I'm not really sure what you want me to say..." Ron trailed off, stalling.

"Let's see," Harry said, touching a finger to his chin as he pretended to think about his next words. "Oh! Well, to start off, you may as well have walked out here completely starkers."

"Yeah, you know, it is a bit cold out here, now you mention it. Gonna just nip back inside-"

"Prat!" Harry laughed as Ron finally succumbed to his blush and ducked back into the tent.

He felt Harry following him as he made his way to the middle of the sitting room, past the couch.

"I hope Hermione's got a few more things on than you do..." Harry joked as he resumed his position on the couch, holding his tea mug with both hands.

"Never know," Ron said with a smirk, his back towards Harry as he reached his bunk. He chanced a glance back over at Harry and laughed when he saw the appalled expression on his best friend's face. "Night, Harry," Ron added as he ducked back into bed.

Hermione turned towards him as he jostled the mattress unintentionally.

"What's going..." she started, until she realized how exposed she was, now turning so far into him that he could see her naked breasts. But rather than linger his sights on her body, he settled next to her, feeling how embarrassed she was, though he didn't want her to be.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Harry had a headache and made himself some tea."

"Is he alright?" Hermione asked through a yawn as she pulled the covers further up over them both.

Ron snuggled against her and kissed her lightly on the ear.

"Yeah, he's fine," Ron said. "But it's not even dawn. Go back to sleep."

She let out a long breath as her eyes closed, and they were asleep before Ron could even consider Harry's hilariously shocked face for another second.

December 17, 1998

Six months had passed by blissfully. Things had been so wonderful between the three of them. It had been awkward around Harry the first few days, knowing that Harry probably guessed that Ron and Hermione got up to a lot more than snogging in their own little tent separated from Harry. But they'd begun to even get used to 'd spend their mornings talking, afternoons outside or by the fire as the months grew colder, and their evenings sitting together while Hermione read aloud. Ron had asked her to start reading out loud when she took up her spot on the couch in his arms with a book in her hands. At first, Harry had objected, trying to make his request as kind as possible that she not bore them all with facts and figures, dates and pointless names.

But Ron had told Harry to shut up and had insisted she read out loud to him. Harry often fell asleep in the arm chair while she was reading, and occasionally, Ron would drift off as well, but he found her voice incredibly beautiful and comforting, and he would have been content for her to read him the dictionary every night just to hear her pronunciation.

Once, Ron had even managed to go down to the nearby lake with just Hermione while Harry was taking a nap. They'd charmed the surrounding area so Harry wouldn't be able to see them, stripped off all their clothes, and spent two hours naked in the lake together.

The only mildly embarrassing part had come when they'd arrived back at the tent with dry clothes and wet hair, Harry pointing with raised eyebrows at their bathing suits which were still hanging out to dry by the fireplace from the day before.

Tonight, Ron had just finished his dinner and was waiting for Hermione to come back out of the loo. The fire was crackling, and Harry was making coffee.

Ron had no reason to get up or to cross the tent and look outside. He had no reason, yet he felt compelled to.

His eyes roamed over the dark woods beyond. The sun had mostly set, leaving a slightly lighter rim around the horizon, stars beginning to pop out overhead.

Just as Ron was about to turn back inside, something happened... something he had no clue how to explain. It seemed that his vision went out of focus for a brief moment, and during that moment, he saw something that made no sense... he saw his old room at the Burrow, and not the way it was now.

The way it had been when he was a small child. Before Hogwarts.

But the forest resumed its position at the forefront of his sights, and, shaking his head, he tried to rationalize that he was tired, groggy from dinner and the fire and Hermione...

Yes. Tired. That was all.

And he returned to his place by the fire, trying not to think about it anymore.

January 23, 1999

It was four in the morning, but he had to use the loo, so he crept out of bed, remembering at the last second to put his boxers back on and spare himself from having Harry discover him completely naked, walking through the tent.

He arrived at the loo and entered... but as he finished and began washing up, he realized something. This wasn't the loo he was used to, the one from the tent. This was the Hogwarts toilet, the one in the boys' dormitory.

"No way..." Ron muttered as he opened his eyes fully, turning around in a full circle. But it was. There was no denying it.

Suddenly panicking, Ron yanked open the door and stepped back into... the tent kitchen.

He was losing his mind, that had to be it.

And then it occurred to him, something Hermione had mentioned in passing a few days ago, something she'd read in a book... something about crossing over between different times in your life. And what had she said? That a mishap in time travel was always responsible...

It couldn't be! They'd done everything-

And then he remembered.

The morgue.

"Shit!" he exclaimed at a whisper, terrified suddenly of what was happening.

He ran to the couch and woke Harry who instantly reached for his wand and made far too much noise.

"Shhh! Shut it, Harry!" Ron hissed. "You'll wake up Hermione!"

Harry blinked himself fully awake and put on his glasses, staring up at Ron as Ron sat on the couch next to Harry.

"Something's gone wrong," Ron began slowly. "I think... I think it's because of what happened down in the morgue, when I Confunded that man..."

"What are you on about? !" Harry demanded, obviously trying to keep his voice down.

"I've started seeing... things..." Ron said slowly. "Just now, I was in the loo and I was sure it was the Hogwarts toilets, the ones in the boys' dormitory."

"It's the middle of the night, you were half asleep," Harry said rationally.

"No, Harry. I know what happened," Ron said, nodding. He was sure he hadn't been imagining it or dreaming. "And a while back, I had this flash of my room at the Burrow, the way it was when I was six or seven!"

"Okay, calm down," Harry urged. "It could be nothing."

"Or it could mean that you were right and I fucked up!"

"You had to, Ron," Harry reminded him. "Hermione would be dead right now-"

"Don't say that, Harry!" Ron demanded, feeling sick thinking about it, agitated from all that was happening, from fear that he had damaged their chance at making it back to February intact... and with Hermione.

"Okay, look," Harry began, thinking as he spoke, "that book Hermione read to us-"

"Yeah, I was trying to remember exactly what it said..." Ron said.

"Right," Harry continued. "Well, it said you'd know if things got serious because everything would stop making sense, you'd be confused all the time, things would start to melt together..."

Harry looked clueless about the meaning of his own words, but Ron, in some weird way, understood them.

"Is that happening to you?" Harry asked slowly.

"No, not yet," Ron reasoned. Maybe he could still make it... "But what happens if it does?"

"If it does, then we talk to Hermione, we get her to help us figure out how to fix it."

"But until then we don't tell her because she'll panic and I don't want her to think there's something wrong with me," Ron added, feeling immensely guilty for his plan to keep Hermione in the dark. "I swear I'll tell her if it starts getting serious..."

Harry nodded, and Ron knew he really did agree.

"Okay, maybe this will be okay..." Ron said, trying to reassure himself out loud.

It was another half hour before he made his way back to bed, too alert too sleep. He was hoping to catch it, if it would happen again, so he could know something... impatience building in having to wait and see...

But the day passed without another incident, and it was easy to forget, to be happy, and to pretend it was all over...

February 15, 1999

They were so close, and other than a few very minor incidents, Ron had gone without any more visions. He was feeling confident in things as he stood from the couch at half eleven, ready for bed.

"It's our last night here," Harry said with a half smile.

"I can't believe it," Hermione added as she stood and took Ron's hand.

"Well, better make the most of it," Ron said as he tugged Hermione's hand, trying to get her moving in the direction of the bed.

She blushed, and he grinned. He'd been teasing more openly in front of Harry about their intimate relationship, guiltily loving the way she'd blush and avert her eyes from either of them. Harry, on the other hand, usually just rolled his eyes at Ron or gave him a disgusted look.

Tonight was no different, and Harry chuckled to himself as Ron and Hermione turned their backs on him and headed off to bed.

February 16, 1999

Ron found himself staring up at the stars, back aching from the uncomfortable floor...

...of the Great Hall. Hogwarts. Third year. They'd slept in sleeping bags in the Great Hall under threat from Sirius Black.

If he turned his head to the left, he'd see Hermione.

He turned.

And he was staring at a sea of maroon...

...inside the tent.

He sat up, breathing erratically. He pulled on his boxers and slid out of bed, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room, locating Harry where he was sleeping in his usual spot on the couch.

"Harry," Ron said hoarsely, walking towards the couch, the fire almost completely burned out.

"Ron?"

Harry blinked up at Ron, unable to see him properly without his glasses on.

"I think we should go, to check and make sure..." Ron trailed off as Harry sat up, reaching for his glasses. "I just need to see us getting it right..."

"See what?" Harry mumbled. "Do what?"

"Tonight's the night we get the time turner, Harry!" Ron reminded him, arms crossed over his trembling body. "I need to go and check, to make sure we show up."

"You think there's a chance we won't?" Harry asked, looking shocked.

"You remember those weird visions I told you about?"

Harry nodded, but looked like he really didn't want to hear the next part of this...

"I had another one, just now..." Ron said, "a really vivid one. I have to check. I have to be sure..."

Harry nodded slowly, sighing.

"Okay. Yeah," he said, standing. "We should check."

"I'll just get dressed," Ron said, running back over to the bunk and opening the curtain wide enough to fetch his shirt and pull it on.

But seeing Hermione there sleeping peacefully, a terrible thought crossed his mind. What if this was the last time he saw her?

"No!" he whispered to himself. "It can't be." And he rummaged in his bag for clean clothes.

Determined not to let anything tear him away from Hermione again, Ron shoved one leg after the other inside his jeans. He couldn't leave Hermione without any knowledge of his whereabouts, so he took a scrap of parchment from one of her books on the bedside table, guilty when he realized she had probably been marking her place, and he scribbled out a quick note, leaving it on her pillow...

Hermione,

Don't worry. Me and Harry have gone to check on something. We'll be back really soon.

Love you.

"Are you ready to go?" Ron asked as he stuffed his feet into his trainers, grabbing his robe and throwing it over himself.

"Yeah," Harry said as he pulled his own robe on over his shirt. "Let's go."

Harry held open the invisibility cloak and Ron slipped inside, checking his watch.

"We, our old selves, should arrive at the Ministry in less than a quarter of an hour," Ron commented as Harry gripped his wrist.

"Visitor's entrance then?" Harry asked, and Ron nodded as Harry twisted them away...

They appeared in front of a familiar red phone booth, and Ron moved forward first, holding the door open for Harry. They descended slowly into the Atrium, rushing to the lifts the moment the phone booth had landed. It took less time to make their way up to the Auror offices this time.

"The loop closes really soon," Ron said, checking his watch again.

But Harry squeezed in tighter under the cloak next to Ron as they heard footsteps approaching...

"This is it, here," Ron heard himself say. They were here, the old versions of themselves... they just couldn't see themselves, both sets of them under separate invisibility cloaks.

"Is there a password?" old Harry's voice asked, out of sight but very close now.

"Yeah, remember?" old Ron replied.

Ron heard himself clearing his throat.

"Contego!" old Ron said, and the Auror office doors clicked.

"I can't bloody believe you guessed the password on the first try," old Harry whispered in awe. "Contego? Really?"

"Dunno," old Ron said, sounding shocked. "I'm a lucky git, I guess."

"Understatement..." old Harry breathed.

Harry tugged Ron's arm and pulled him through the closing doors at the last possible moment. The door shut with a light thud.

Old Harry emerged from under his invisibility cloak and lit his wand, starting Ron and Harry. They both jumped and sucked in a breath as old Ron emerged too out of thin air.

The old versions of themselves began to walk forward, and so, under the cloak still, current Harry and Ron moved forward too, following in their former footsteps. It was so bizarre to Ron, following himself through the empty corridor, seeing the way he had looked back then, so broken even as he tried to be hopeful. It was the way he walked and moved, like he wasn't especially familiar with life or the living, like he was simply a bad copy of what he once was...

"Which one is it?" old Harry whispered suddenly, barely audible.

"It's at the end," old Ron replied just as quietly.

They continued for a long while, until finally, old Ron began to slow down.

"Should be..." old Ron murmured, glancing left and studying the nameplates as they passed them slowly.

"What's his name again?" old Harry asked.

"Harold Hudgins," old Ron hissed, his eyes landing on that very name as he stopped dead in front of the door.

Harry and Ron watched as old Harry reached out to the doorknob and attempted to turn it, obviously with no luck.

"Alohomora," old Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the door. But nothing happened. Everything was going, so far, exactly as Ron remembered it...

"Nice try," old Ron breathed.

Old Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot as they both stared at the door before them.

"I remember something," old Ron said slowly.

"What?" old Harry asked.

"There's a weird lock inside... when I was here before, when I had my meeting with Hudgins..."

"But how does it work? Do you think we need a password?"

"No... no, I think..." old Ron paused and stared at the doorknob. He raised his wand to the door, lighting the bronze handle.

"I didn't do anything..." Ron whispered to Harry from under the cloak. "I was shocked it worked..."

But nothing was happening. Old Ron and old Harry stood facing the door, silent and still, waiting for... something...

"I don't remember it taking this long before," Ron whispered, watching the scene he remembered play out before him.

"But... what you're saying is that we never figured anything out last time. You got lucky," Harry half-mouthed from under the cloak. "And it just... worked."

Ron stared at Harry and they both knew. It had been them all along.

"I know what to do!" Harry hissed.

Silently, Harry waved his wand in a slow half circle, finishing the spell with a quick flick.

There was a soft click, and the door slid open.

"What did you do?" old Harry asked, stunned.

"Not sure really," old Ron said as he pushed open the door. "But whatever it was, it obviously worked."

Harry and Ron stood frozen in the hallway as they watched themselves retrieving the time turner, and, feeling incredibly relieved, Ron and Harry followed their old selves back down the corridor and into the lifts.

It was easy now. Everything was going to be fine. They reached the Atrium level again...

But it was not the Atrium at all. It was a damp, dark dungeon underground. Something made of metal, familiar, rested in Ron's hand.

The Deluminator!

He was in the dungeon at Malfoy Manor.

No...

A terrible scream echoed above him.

NO!

His fists were raw from banging them against the rough stone walls...

He turned frantically towards Harry...

...and he was standing outside, pavement beneath his feet. He looked left, right, and he saw the phone booth, the visitor's entrance to the Ministry...

"Harry?" he called tentatively, but when he received no reply, he knew what he had to do.

He spun quickly, Disapparating...

...and appearing in the middle of the tent again.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted, running towards him the second he'd appeared inside the tent.

"Hermione!" Ron panted, opening his arms for Hermione to run into.

He felt confused, relieved to see her, but no clue what was happening. Time seemed elusive and... odd in its passage. How long had he been standing out there on the street?

Ron's eyes focused over the top of Hermione's head on Harry as he approached them. Harry looked stunned but relieved at Ron's sudden return.

"What happened?" Harry asked nervously.

"Did... didn't you see him... me?" Ron asked, brain going fuzzy.

Why was this so confusing? He couldn't concentrate on Harry's next words, telling Ron he didn't understand, hadn't seen anything...

And Ron was suddenly sure of something. Someone was there, outside the tent...

"Wait!" he shouted, running through the half open tent flap, ignoring Hermione and Harry calling his name from behind as he darted into the woods.

And the ground beneath him turned to tile. A giant troll blocked his path into... the girls' toilets?

Hermione screamed as the troll made a swipe for a restroom stall. Ron realized instantly that he had been chasing Hermione out of the tent all along... He had to save her.

Ron raised his wand and looked left...

...and he was balancing on his own blood soaked leg, facing Sirius Black.

"...you'll have to kill us too!"

He turned towards where he knew Hermione was standing...

...and he was watching her dance with someone who wasn't him. Viktor Krum twirled Hermione and she laughed, but when Ron blinked, her hands were on his shoulders instead. She looked happily shocked as he moved her around in a circle.

"It was a very nice wedding," Hermione commented, and Ron nodded, his throat unusually tight and dry...

He glanced back over to his left, towards the table where Harry was sitting, disguised as a Weasley...

...but now he was running through the woods in the dark.

"Ron, come back!" Hermione's anguished scream echoed as he felt his body being squeezed away into Disapparation, rain soaking through his clothing.

No, I don't want to leave you! I take it all back!

Darkness surrounded him. And he felt his life slipping away from him. Every emotion he ever felt seemed somehow wrapped up in Hermione... and they all crushed him now, weights piled on top of his useless body, wherever it was now.

If I'm going to die, make this easy for her...

A ringing echoed in his ears, and a strange ticking followed. The ticking seemed to slow down, and moments later, he was sure it was headed for a full stop. Somehow he knew what this meant, when he could no longer hear this sound inside his own head... It might have been the beat of his own heart or a bomb ready to go off.

He was aware of his body again for a second, and he leaned back, hoping that he'd fall somewhere safe, the only option now to try and see where it led him.

But then he realized that the ticking had stopped, and he braced himself...

He had expected an explosion, but he heard none. And instead of the darkness he had been enveloped within before, he now saw... Hermione, her face focused in front of him, though everything else around her was blurry.

"R-Ron? !" she half whispered, half cried, face coated with fresh tears.

And Ron recognized her look of unspeakable shock. He had felt it in himself the moment she'd opened her eyes in the morgue, alive when he'd spent eight long months believing she was dead.

And as Ron's eyes landed on the time turner now around Hermione's neck, he tried to sit up. But Harry's face swam into focus next to Hermione's.

"Y-You're alive!" Harry breathed, but before Ron could answer him, he was being gathered up close to Hermione, Harry's black hair flashing by as two pairs of arms embraced him. They sat in a huddle on the cold forest ground, a soft breeze whipping ginger, brown and black hair together, illuminated by the stars and moon, bright and highly visible this far away from civilization.

Three heads moved to form a triangle, all foreheads touching. Tears and cries mixed, and it was impossible to tell who made which sounds, who was breathing in which bit of air. Harry caught Ron eyeing the time turner where it dangled from Hermione's neck between the three of them, and Harry actually laughed.

"We didn't use it," Harry said happily.

Ron looked up into Harry's bright green eyes, an inch away from his blue ones and merging together.

"What were you going to do?" Ron asked hoarsely as he felt more than one hand on his own, holding on tightly.

"I would have done anything... anything... to bring you back," Hermione whispered.

"And so would I," Harry sighed, catching Hermione's eye and smiling.

"If you had d-died, we were going to go back again... to fix it," Hermione said.

"How?" Ron asked, awed. "We're already inside the first loop, the one we made when me and Harry went back the first time. You can't start another while-"

"We didn't care," Hermione whispered, nuzzling Ron's head with hers, the three of them still tucked inside their intimate huddle.

"You see now?" Ron asked, feeling overwhelmed by Hermione's words. "Love... makes you forget to be reasonable..."

Hermione laughed, and as her tears continued to fall, Ron heard himself laughing too. He leaned away from Harry to kiss her, smiling as she laughed against his lips.

When their lips parted again, Harry kissed both of their heads and roughly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, leaning back and pushing up onto his knees. He checked his watch and grinned.

"We're back. We made it. We can go home."

And it all made sense, the ticking Ron recalled... it had been the final countdown to the moment the loop had closed. And it had not signaled the end of him... it had saved his life. His visions, distorted memories come back to life, were over, and he knew somehow, with certainty, that they would never return.

Finally, letting it all sink in, Ron stood on slightly unsteady legs. Regaining his balance, he helped Hermione to her feet, leaning together as he draped an arm over her shoulders, following Harry back through the woods to the tent.

"How did we get all the way out here?" Ron asked, memory fuzzy.

"We found you," Hermione sniffed, "when you ran off. We followed you and..." She couldn't continue, and Ron squeezed her shoulder as they finally arrived at the tent.

The three of them made quick work of taking down their temporary home, and once they were packed, they huddled together, hands clasped.

"Ready?" Ron whispered, looking down lovingly at Hermione. She nodded her response and Ron turned them on the spot, disappearing...

With a crack, they were standing in the middle of Hermione's old flat. She sucked in a breath and let go of Ron and Harry, looking around, eyes wide. It was as she had left it, but it seemed too aged and lonely, despite a living being having inhabited it without ceasing from the day she'd left it. It was as if Ron's pain was written into every piece of furniture, every bit of carpet, and each speck of ash in the cold, empty fireplace.

For a quarter of an hour, the three of them wandered without speaking from room to room, rediscovering it. Ron had not realized how clouded his thoughts of this place had become, happiness now overshadowing the lifeless depression he had been buried beneath here before he'd left. Wordlessly, Hermione entered the bedroom, and Ron watched as she breathed in deeply.

"Everything smells like you," she whispered, looking back over her shoulder and smiling at him.

He took a deep breath for himself...

"I smell you," he whispered back.

She turned around to face him fully, and, moving to the foot of the bed, they locked watery eyes. Memories of this place without her, nights in her bed all alone, sprang to life, fresh and raw. And he wanted to remember them, to call them back to life, to fully realize all over again just how much he'd gained... how lucky he was.

And now, with her beside him, all of his black and white memories turned to vivid colour. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so his lips barely touched hers as she spoke...

"Home," she breathed against his lips, and then she was kissing him, eyes fluttering shut.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, and she pulled it up over his head, tossing it to the floor. He worked his hands up her sides and copied her, pulling her shirt off over her head as well.

"Love you," she mouthed against his rough cheek, and he cupped her face in his hands to pull her back, to look into her eyes.

"Love you..." he echoed.

He pressed his bare torso to hers and she closed her eyes, smiling.

An hour later, Ron extracted himself from Hermione's warm, naked body, climbing out of bed and pulling on his boxers. Lazily, he made his way to the sitting room where he found Harry lying on the sofa in front of the fire.

"Hey," Ron said in a low, raspy voice.

"Hey," Harry said back, looking up and smiling.

"We made it. We really..." Ron choked up for a second and cleared his throat, shaking his head, "...really did it."

"I know..." Harry shuddered slightly, sitting up.

Ron sat next to him, leaning his head back.

"It's strange," Harry began as he shifted against the couch. "I keep expecting something to go wrong."

"I know," Ron sighed, "but it can't, it won't. We're safe. We've only got our futures to live now, no more past..."

Harry nodded as he turned his head right, meeting Ron's eyes.

"We'll tell Ginny tomorrow. We'll clean up the mess. And everyone will know... a version of the truth..." Ron trailed off, grinning lopsidedly at Harry.

Harry closed his eyes, his head resting limply on the back of the couch, still facing Ron.

"There are no words to thank you for everything..." Ron stopped and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

But as he watched Harry shaking his head, eyes still closed, smiling softly as he drifted off to sleep, Ron remembered... he realized... It hadn't been a favour at all, what Harry had done... and therefore, Ron never had to find the words to thank Harry properly.

"G'night, Harry," Ron said as he stood.

He heard Harry mumble a sleepy response as Ron made his way back to the bedroom.

Hermione was lying on her side now, bare back towards him, covers low, revealing the beginning of the outward curve of her bum. Ron smiled as he shuffled sleepily over to the bed. He climbed in behind her and slid his legs under the covers, molding his body to hers as he settled against the pillow. He dropped his left arm over her middle, fingers lightly caressing her smooth skin.

He wasn't sure if she was awake until she lifted his hand from her stomach and pulled it up between her breasts, kissing his palm.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron whispered. "Forever."

And he knew now that this, love, was the one thing that death would never be able to conquer.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it!

Also, a huge thanks to redheadsarehot for this lovely piece of art to go with this chapter - http : / / i1211 . photobucket . com /albums/cc430/rhrbigbang/aubrey22 . jpg (remove spaces)