When summer is quickly approaching, twilight comes much later in the day, so much so that occasionally you're surprised to check the clock and see the time is so late when the daylight is lingering still. This particular evening storm clouds were darkening the horizon, so at nearly eight in the evening, it was just a touch more dusky than usual.

Ron sat alone in his flat in Germany, which was not too unlike the one he'd lived in while impersonating Robertson - although this one was much cleaner. Firewhiskey rested delicately in the glass in front of him on the shabby coffee table - his third pour of the evening. Ginny would scold him if she were there, but in his defense he'd nursed those three pours over the course of the last hour. Well, maybe forty minutes… what time was it again?

The silence of the flat was so deafening and he was so transfixed staring at the distant storm clouds to the east that he didn't hear the pop outside his door of someone apparating into the corridor. He was, therefore, quite startled when there came three sharp knocks on his door.

"Who issit?" he said, standing up and bumping his knee on the coffee table. He shook his head as he made his way to the door, frustrated that apparently two and a half glasses of whiskey was enough to slur his speech.

"It's Ginny!" came a voice from the hall. Ginny, speak of the devil. She sounded a bit distressed, he noticed.

"Ginny?" he queried, opening the door to see her standing there clutching a magazine of some sort.

"Yes, it's me, hello, I'm coming in," she announced briskly, strutting past him into the living room. Almost immediately, she noticed the glass on the coffee table. "Having an early nightcap, are we?" she asked.

Ron tried to pull himself together.

"Yes'm," he managed to say. "What brings you by?"

"If you're taking to firewhiskey alone in the evenings then I'm going to start dropping by a lot more often," she said bitterly. "You're not standing straight, how many glasses have you had?"

"Two."

"Including that one?" She gestured to the half full glass on the table.

Ron looked aside guiltily.

"Ugh, Ron! I get that you're your own person and you're lonely but Merlin, don't become a drunkard…"

Ginny was now suddenly far less enthused to bring the news to Ron she'd intended to. Her brother had a temper as it was, but after a few glasses of liquor he could be incorrigible.

"I'm not a drunkard," argued Ron. "Just had a bad day…"

Ginny gritted her teeth. If she didn't tell him, someone else would, and that would be far worse. Bad day or not, three glasses of firewhiskey or not, she was laying this on him as carefully as she could.

"Okay, well, maybe you should sit back down," she said, trying to soften her voice.

"What's going on?" demanded Ron, but he slowly made his way back to the couch and sunk into it. Ginny sat next to him.

"Do you remember, the last time I came to visit—"

"The only time you've come to visit," Ron interrupted. Ginny scowled.

"Yes, then. We went to lunch the first day and had a very uncomfortable conversation about Harry and Hermione."

Ron groaned loudly. "Gin, I don't want to bring this up again…"

"Well that's too bad for you because this time you don't have a choice," snapped Ginny.

"Gin…"

"No!" she cried. "Ron, I need you to just shut up and listen."

Something in the desperation of her voice must have tingled him somewhere, because he grumbled a soft "fine" as he sat back and looked at her.

"In that horribly uncomfortable conversation," Ginny continued, "I brought up to you that it could be possible that Harry and Hermione might end up falling in love… because we were wrong for them, and they were right for each other, and just took a while figuring that out."

Ron stared at her, and Ginny was mildly surprised he was taking "shut up and listen" so literally.

"Okay, well… it appears that I was right," she finished lamely.

"What do you mean?" Ron prodded.

"I mean," said Ginny, unfurling the magazine she'd been clenching in her hands, "that Harry and Hermione are indeed in love, or at least together, if this photograph and subsequent article can be believed."

Ginny had read the article - if you could call it that - and though it had been published in The Howler she didn't think there was any reason to believe it wasn't at least partially true. At the very least, the picture was incriminating enough.

Ron stared at the magazine unblinkingly for a solid few moments. Then he did blink a few times, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He was indeed staring at a photo of his best friend… or at least the man who used to be his best friend… kissing the only woman he'd ever loved.

Maybe it was the firewhiskey, but there was a heat in his stomach boiling up into his heart that he had neither the energy nor the desire to quench. It was like the way he'd felt when he saw Hermione dancing with Krum at the Yule Ball in fourth year… but a hundred times more powerful. Blood creeped up his neck and into his face and he felt the fire spreading through his body.

Ginny naturally noticed.

"Ron, Ron, just breathe, take a deep breath, it's going to be okay…"

He stared down at the magazine, the sight of the picture just stoking the fire in his stomach. How could she say it was going to be okay? How was this okay? Harry, his best friend, the man he'd trusted with his life… had stolen away the woman he loved…

"Ron, we talked about this, remember? I said this might happen, that we should come to peace with it… it wasn't easy for me either."

Ron couldn't look at her. He couldn't look away from the tabloid in front of him. The fact that he'd left Hermione months ago didn't even factor into his rage-filled brain at all. He knew, somewhere inside of him, that she'd someday find someone better than him, but it never was going to be Harry. It couldn't be Harry.

In the minutes since Ginny had been there, the sky had darkened, and so had his heart. Anger, resentment, despair, and loneliness all filled his soul, aided and encouraged by the liquor he'd consumed so carelessly.

"Ron…"

"I'm gonna kill him," he whispered, his fists clenched tightly.

"Ron, I know you're angry, but just… just take a moment to…"

"No," he said, and stood up. Images danced in his head. Every hug Harry and Hermione had shared at school. The torturous ghostly figures from the locket. The giant photo of them dancing on the front page of the Prophet at Christmas. The sparkling bracelet Harry had mysteriously bought for Hermione for no reason at all. All of them so paltry and insignificant on their own. But together, with this photo… the universe had been leading them here since the beginning. He and Ginny had just been too blind to see it.

Universe destiny or not… he was still bloody fucking mad. Slowly, decisively, he reached for his wand in his pocket and gripped it tightly.

"Ron… Ron, no!" Ginny cried… but he was already gone.

Bloody fucking hell, Ginny thought angrily, and apparated right behind him.

Ron appeared on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, at the bottom of the hill that led up to the Hogwarts gates. The storm clouds he'd seen to the east were already drenching Scotland in rain, but the water pelting his skin did nothing to calm the fire in his heart. He strode - almost ran - up the hill with purpose, the storm drowning out Ginny's cries behind him.

By the time Ginny appeared in Hogsmeade, Ron was already halfway up the hill. She yelled after him, begging him to stop and see reason, but he either ignored her or couldn't hear her and he marched right up to the gate and opened it.

With Voldemort gone for good, the castle grounds were left open to wizarding community visitors (particularly past Hogwarts students), but Ginny was absolutely certain there were security measures in place to prevent any unwelcome intruders. Whether or not Ron would be recognized as unwelcome in time remained to be seen.

At the very moment Ron stepped foot inside the Hogwarts grounds, alarms went off in the rooms of every Head of House and the Headmistress's office. As it was after eight o'clock, most students were already in their common rooms, but an alarm was also triggered to the Head Boy and Girl and prefects to usher any stray students out of the corridors.

Harry and Hermione had been together in his room as usual - she was reading on the bed and he was at his desk finishing up grading his last few essays. The alarm naturally startled them both - a shrill whining cry, like a pixie and a mermaid put together. They'd been briefed on this process when they'd come to Hogwarts - occasionally someone would wander (on purpose or by accident) onto the grounds, which triggered this alarm to alert the Heads of Houses that someone was at Hogwarts who was not a registered student or staff member.

While this did not ordinarily mean the visitor meant harm to the castle or its residents, the teachers and staff were regardless instructed to treat the situation with extreme caution. Protocol was to have the heads of houses group up by the front door - the most likely place a visitor may try to enter - while the other teachers scanned the grounds.

Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Slughorn all appeared outside their quarters at the same time and without saying a word raced toward the Entrance Hall of the castle, where McGonagall was already waiting, wand drawn.

"I am not sure who wishes to join us on such a dreary summer evening," McGonagall began, "but we will give them the welcome they deserve - whether it be friendly or forceful."

Harry arrived at McGonagall's side first, Hermione not too far behind. Neville and Slughorn brought up the rear, panting.

"If we wait just a moment or two, as long as they are indeed coming to the front door, we'll know exactly who it is," said Harry, smiling as he held up the wrinkly bit of old parchment that was the Marauder's Map. He pointed his wand at the empty page and spoke quietly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map quickly spider-webbed into existence, forefront on the page being the five people standing in the Entrance Hall of the great castle. The courtyard outside the front door was the furthest out the map went, but as soon as the visitor made it to that point they'd know who it was, as their footprints would appear on the edge of the page.

The moments seemed to pass like hours as they all waited in silence until, finally, two black footprints appeared in the courtyard, and the script underneath them slowly appeared:

Ronald Weasley.

"Oh dear…" breathed Hermione. "Do you think…"

"He knows?" finished Harry. "Yeah, I think that's likely…"

McGonagall gazed at Harry over her famous half-moon spectacles. "If you think this is likely to turn foul, I might advise the two of you to stand back a bit."

"A Gryffindor never backs down from a challenge," said Harry. Neville and Hermione stared at him in a combination of pride and amazement. Slughorn remained calculating. "Besides," continued Harry, "if he's here to settle a score with me, or with Hermione, then we should be the ones to settle it."

By this point, Ron's footprints on the map had just about reached the front door. He was moving with haste. If he did indeed come to Hogwarts because he'd found out about he and Hermione being together - thanks to The Howler or otherwise - it was more than likely that he was upset at the least and murderous at the most. Harry had practice dealing with Ron and his temper, though, as did Hermione, so he was sure that whatever metaphorical fire he brought with him, they'd be able to tame it.

"I take that to mean you think I should open the door?" queried McGonagall.

"Minerva, might I suggest…" started Slughorn, but Harry cut him off.

"Yes. We can handle him," Harry assured her. Hermione reached out and gripped his hand tightly and then let it go as McGonagall raised her wand and, in one sweeping motion, pulled open the great wooden doors. On the steps, looking like a drowned ginger rat - a very angry one - stood Ron.

Hermione had a brief moment where she felt sorry for him, but that was quickly stamped out when Ron charged full speed at Harry.

"Ron!" she screamed, but Ron was already there, and before Harry could shake him off, Ron had landed a hard punch square to Harry's nose.

Harry saw stars for a moment and dropped the map as he tried to fight Ron off and get a decent grip on his wand. Hermione, Neville, Slughorn, and McGonagall all had their wands pointed at the duo, but none of them had a clear shot at Ron without risking hitting Harry, too.

"Ron— don't—" Harry tried to say through the struggle, but when their eyes met Harry saw nothing but anger and hatred staring back at him, and he knew attempting to reason with Ron at that moment wasn't happening. Ron had always been bigger and stronger than Harry, and that had never felt clearer than in this moment as they each fought for control over the other, Harry trying to hold his wand steady while he used his forearm and his other hand to attempt to wrestle Ron off. Ron seemed to have forgotten he even had a wand as he overpowered Harry with his sheer strength.

As angry as Harry knew Ron was, it was hard for him to really get the strength to fully fight back. He'd been his best friend for eleven years. They'd been through so much together. Surely, if he just said the right thing, he could bring Ron to reason…

But then, Harry remembered the sight of Hermione sobbing in his arms, how the tears streaked her cheeks as she told him Ron had left her, and why. The memory of seeing her so in pain, coupled with how much he loved her, gave him the push he needed. With a loud grunt, he shifted his weight and managed to shove Ron hard enough that he fell backwards, stumbling on his back foot.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

And suddenly, Ron was flat on his back, unmoving on the stone floor. Harry looked to his left to see Neville standing there, wand outstretched, looking quite pleased with himself.

Hermione almost allowed herself to laugh at the irony of Neville using such a spell, but instead rushed to Harry and threw her arms around him.

"Are you all right?" she asked, pulling away to look at him. His nose was bleeding.

"I've been better," he grumbled, reaching up to touch his nose. "I don't think it's broken… this time."

Hermione waved her wand across his face and the bleeding slowed.

"Should take down any swelling, too," she murmured, hugging him again.

"Not to interrupt the moment," said Slughorn, "but I think perhaps this situation ought to be… handled?"

"Right," said Harry and Hermione at the same time. Before either of them could make a further suggestion, however, another figure appeared in the doorway - just as wet but decidedly less angry.

"Ginny?!" exclaimed Harry.

She was gasping for air as she stumbled into the castle, noticing Ron immobile on the floor as she held her hips while she attempted to catch her breath.

"I tried… to stop him," she managed to say. "He's… much faster… than me."

The tension was thick in the air in the silence that followed.

"I take it you're not here to punch me in the nose?" said Harry after a moment.

"What? No. Is that all he did?" said Ginny, motioning to Ron. "I was afraid he'd have done much worse by the time I got here."

"Fortunately, Miss Weasley, five against one is usually a hard battle to win."

McGonagall had now broken her silence.

"Right, of course," said Ginny, now standing up straight.

"I presume your intentions are not as unwelcome as Mr. Weasley's, and so you can remain unpetrified?" McGonagall continued.

"Yes, Professor. I followed him here because he was so mad… I wanted to keep him from doing anything stupid."

"And I suppose he - and you - are here because of the article published yesterday in The Howler?"

"Yes ma'am."

Harry noticed that Ginny looked sheepish, despite the fact that she had not been the one racing inside with fists blazing at Harry. As he was gazing at her, she made eye contact with him, and his stomach tightened a little. Wrong as they were for each other, it was still hard to see her after everything that had happened.

"Neville and Horace, I think it's safe to say you can find the rest of the staff and notify them that the grounds are secure. You four," - she gazed at Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, still petrified on the floor - "should probably come with me to have a civilized, mediated discussion in my office."

In the several months Harry had now spent back at Hogwarts, he had never felt more like a student in trouble than this moment. While he knew he'd done nothing wrong, it nevertheless felt ominous being escorted to the Headmistress's office to have a "mediated discussion."

"It is probably in everyone's best interest that Mr. Weasley remain immobile until we get there," McGonagall continued, waving her wand at Ron and causing him to levitate a few feet off the ground. Together, they all made the trek to McGonagall's office in awkward, uncomfortable silence.

"Another cup of tea, dear?" came his mother's soothing voice.

Ron and Ginny sat at the large farmer's table in the kitchen at their parents' house. His father was in the living room reading the Prophet and his mother stood over them with her teapot at the ready. He didn't really care for more tea, but knew better than to refuse.

"Sure, mum. Thanks."

"Ginny, dear?"

"Yes, please."

It wasn't quite silent. Being that it was June, the windows were open to let in the summer breeze, and you could hear birds chirping outside. The occasional garden gnome would also cause a ruckus, fighting with a squirrel.

"I'm so glad you finally came home to visit," said Molly, trying to ease the strained silence. "Ginny's told us that Germany is terribly depressing."

Ron shot a side-eyed glance at his sister, who shrugged and sipped her tea. He'd come home this weekend because the loneliness of his flat was utterly unbearable, after what had happened the night he found out Harry and Hermione were… in love. Once McGonagall released the petrificus curse in her office, he'd done his best to stay calm. It wasn't easy, and he'd lost his temper more than once, but he'd at least kept himself from hitting Harry again.

He'd done most of the talking… mainly asking questions, trying to figure out how everything had happened. It was almost exactly like Ginny had speculated: long hours alone in the castle, newly single, had led Harry and Hermione to realizing they were in love. The thought still tied his stomach in a knot. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, that he'd left Hermione because she deserved better than his nomadic, impulsive ways. Obviously "deserving better" meant someday she would find someone else. He just never imagined that the "someone else" would be the man who'd been right at their sides since they were all eleven years old.

"Anything new and exciting happening over with our German friends?" called his father from the living room.

"Not really," said Ron. He didn't much feel like talking.

"And how's things going at the shop, Ginny? Keeping George in line?" asked Molly.

"Always, mum," she assured her with a smile. Ron didn't know how she could smile knowing what had happened practically right under their noses.

"Cheer up, Ron," came his mother's voice again. "It's such a lovely day out today."

Ron sighed. "I'm sorry, mum, it's just, with everything that's happened…"

"Now, Ronald," scolded Molly, putting down the teapot, "you can't just let this hang over your head like a raincloud forever. I understand this isn't exactly how you expected things to go with Harry, but you're the one who decided that Hermione wasn't right for you."

Ginny stared at Ron as if you say, she's right, you know.

"That's right," came Arthur's voice, as he rose from the couch, leaving the paper folded behind him. "You're still plenty young, son. You'll find someone else who fits you better, in time."

"And so will you, dear," said Molly, smiling at Ginny.

"Oh, no worries, mum. I'm not in a rush," Ginny assured her. "Being engaged to the Chosen One was quite enough of a love life for me for a while."

"I'm proud of you for how well you're handling this, Ginny," said Arthur.

"I'm not saying it was easy!" she said, turning to look at her father. "I cried myself to sleep a lot of nights, thinking that Harry might be falling in love with Hermione. It was hard to leave him, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. Just because I saw it coming doesn't make it easier to see him with her."

This prodded Ron guiltily. His sister had always been more emotionally well-rounded than he was. Hadn't it been Hermione who'd accused Ron of having the emotional range of a teaspoon? Just another reason Harry was better for Hermione. She was such an intelligent person, so full of vibrance and life and emotion. He could never have hoped to be able to care for her the way Harry would be able to. With all the pain Harry had endured in his life, he certainly had far more capability of understanding even a quarter of Hermione's problems.

"No, it's not easy," agreed Ron, looking up from his tea. "It's hard. Anything that you put years of your life into, only to find out it doesn't work, is hard. This is the hardest thing I've had to go through since… since Fred died."

He swallowed, and there was a slight moment of silence in memory of his lost brother.

"And I'm not saying I'm not happy for her. She's found someone to make her happy. Everyone deserves that. It just, it stings, that it was Harry. Because… because Harry and I, we were always best mates. Ever since our first day at Hogwarts. Until I left to go to Germany, and then everything just… changed. Everything. Harry, Hermione, work, everything."

Ginny and their parents stayed quiet. This was the most Ron had talked about it since they'd gone to Hogwarts that night.

"So I don't think I'm upset because I'm mad at Harry, or mad at Hermione. I think, really, I'm the most mad at myself. I'm the one who left. They just stayed and picked up the pieces."

"I've thought about that, too," said Ginny quietly. "I didn't pack up and go to another country or anything, but I'm the one who decided that I wasn't ready to get married. I pushed Harry to realize that he wasn't over his past, and I made him understand he deserved someone who could carry that burden better than I could. I left. They found each other."

She and Ron both gave a deep sigh at the same time.

"So yeah, it's not easy," she said. "But…"

"I understand," finished Ron.

"And we probably won't ever be able to rebuild the friendships that defined our lives," Ginny went on. "And that sucks."

"A lot," agreed Ron. That was something eating away at him, too. Even if he and Ginny both "understood," it didn't change the fact that the two people they'd each been in love with for years were now in love with each other. Maybe someday they'd be able to regroup… but for now, keeping their distance seemed like the best option.

"Life goes on," said Molly quietly, coming to the other side of the table. She put her left hand on Ron's shoulder and her right hand on Ginny's, looking between the two of them. "Nothing changes the fact that you are both my children, and Arthur and I love you no matter who you decide to marry."

"Thanks, mum," they said together.

A picture-perfect family, they were not. But they had each other, and for now, that was enough.

"Happy Summer, Professor Granger."

"Happy Summer, Professor Potter," Hermione smiled back at him. She and Harry had just arrived back at Harry's tudor home, left empty since they'd left to come to Hogwarts. She never could have dreamed she'd be coming back to his house with him together.

As Ron had left their flat behind when he went to Germany, she had made arrangements to terminate the lease once she accepted the full-time position at Hogwarts. She figured she'd either stay at the castle or find somewhere new… but then, of course, Harry had happened.

"I had Kreacher come by a few times, just make sure everything was in order," Harry said, walking through the house and checking the rooms. Hermione followed behind him, peering into each room and quietly muttering a dusting spell to at least clear most of the surfaces of allergens that had settled over four months. Cleanliness had never been Kreacher's speciality, Hemione thought, recalling the dusty and dirty quarters of Twelve Grimmauld Place.

Finally, they reached the master bedroom, and Harry waved his wand to open the curtains, spilling in the summer sunlight. It was like a new dawn. A fresh start.

"Welcome home, Hermione," said Harry softly, wrapping her in his arms.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, smelling him, that smell that had always been Harry, as she snaked her arms around his waist, eyes closed as her head rested on his chest.

"Anywhere is home when I'm with you," she whispered.

He smiled.

All was well.

—fin—

Just a note...

+ To those of you new readers who recently found this story and read it all the way through - thank you and congrats! It was a long one, so I applaud your perseverance.

+ To those of you who discovered it when it was not yet complete and waited patiently (and not so patiently) for updates after you raced through the beginning, thank you for your dedication - it's finally paid off.

+ And, finally, to those of you who have been with me since Chapter One, dying inside as the updates got farther and farther apart as my life got more and more complex, who have waited and reviewed and waited and read and waited some more, who have had this story favorited from Day One, THANK YOU. I'm not sure how many of you are left, but your dedication is amazing and I am humbled by you. Now that it's done, you can now tell all your H/Hr loving friends about AML guilt-free, knowing they won't be kept prisoner to agonizingly long gaps any longer.

I have read through All My Loving in its incomplete phase so many times - bouncing backwards randomly from chapter to chapter for a reference I needed, or just to help myself fall asleep on nights insomnia wracked my brain. I have seen error after error, hole after hole, and have marveled that anyone has taken the time to read it and love it as all of you have. Someday I may go back through, fixing the small mistakes and tiny plot holes, making it perfect for the new readers who come along. But for now, in this moment, I am so happy to be able to mark All My Loving as "Complete." Writing AML has been one of the greatest joys of my life.

Thank you for being a part of it. Happy New Year!