The battle was raging fiercely around me. Screams and loud gasping breaths filled the air, lighting up with different colors, from different spells, whether they be protective or sinister as they decorated the air.

Hermione. My chest heaved painfully as I scanned the room for her. I sent a stunning spell at a Death Eater nearby who seemed to already be bleeding. The longer he was out, the better. He slumped against the wall forceably, unconscious.

Hermione. My head was like a dripping faucet, the droplets of water echoing her name throughout my head. Hermione, Hermione. We were dueling side by side, hand in hand but we had to separate in the heat of the battle. My chest was still aching with the idea that my brother was dead. Harry, my best friend and adoptive brother. I haven't seen Hermione for awhile.

Hermione, Fred, Harry, Mum, Dad. My head was a colossal mixture of worries and pains. I could see my Dad out of the corner of my eye easily over taking a Death Eater, who went flying backwards into the brick wall with such a force, it crumpled under his body until he fell, silent and unmoving. I smiled to myself proudly.

Harry. Dead. My throat closed and I gasped for breath as the pain waved through me again. Hagrid carried in his immobile body in. I knew what Voldemort had said about him sneaking off was a dead lie. He gave himself up and I knew it in my heart.

I pressed my back up against the cool bricks, gasping painfully at the stabbing pain in my chest. Whether it was from the physical stress of dueling or the emotional stress I was undergoing, I couldn't tell you. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remember the way Hermione's lips had felt on mine in the Room of Requirement or after our declarations. She married me. Her arms around my neck, curled in my hair as she kissed me. Her arms around my waist as I flew us out of the Fiendfire Malfoy's goones had created or flying us out of the Chamber of Secrets. I desperately tried to react my cells to grasp the feeling of her hand in mine once more.

God Hermione , please be alright. I prayed silently for a moment, opening my eyes and searching for her. There were less Death Eaters to fight but one Death Eater; hell, even one stray spell could hurt her. Like the one Dolohov sent her in the Ministry. One spell could ruin my life forever, take away my life forever because Hermione was my life.

I had come to the conclusion that I couldn't live without Hermione while in the Chamber. War was raging stories above us as we ran through the seepy and dark chamber, water dripping eerily as our footsteps led us to the Basilisk. As I watched her collect the fangs that I had magically removed, standing in front of the beast that had nearly killed her second year, I decided that no matter what happens to me, Hermione better live. She better have a damn good life because I know I would jump in front of a flame of green for her. My whole body ached but I knew that if I stood stationary for too long, I'd slump to the ground in sleep. I pushed off the bricks, looking around, searching for someway I could help.

Before I had time to deeply ponder my answer, my mother appeared at my side. "Ron." She breathed almost inaudibly, grabbing me into a hug. I gripped her fiercely, inhaling the comforting scent of my Mommy and burying my face in her hair. I had no idea how much I could miss my mother. When I was at school, I could write her. I would see her during breaks. But it was approaching a solid ten months since I had any contact with my mother.

"My boy." She mumbled, clutching me so hard breathe seeing as how I was pretty sure I had broken some ribs. I opened my mouth to address her when my stomach dropped at what I heard.

"YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD! I THOUGHT I ALREADY TAUGHT YOU HOW TO RESPECT YOUR SUPERIORS!" A voice crackled with fury as my mother gasped. I whipped around and I had to breathe out a sign of relief that Hermione was still alive. That euphoric feeling evaporated quickly. Hermione was faced off against Bellatrix Lestrange, about twenty feet away from me. Hermione's wand flicked and Bellatrix was thrown into the air with a scream, landing on the ground with a sickening thud.

I smiled proudly at my girl. She was wearing my Chudley Cannons sweatshirt, that I'd given to her in the Chamber cause it was freezing down there. It was huge on her, drowning her with it's orange fabric but I loved seeing her in it. That damn gray bloody beaded bag across her was a deepening bruise along her cheekbone and her curly ponytail was coming loose. Over the years, Hermione's hair has gone from wild, matted frizz to perfect curly ringlets. Ringlets I loved more then life itself because they were apart of the girl I love.

I love her, my wife.

I hate her for basically walking into a suicide mission. She promised me quickly seconds before we watched my brother die with a haunting smile on his face that she would take care of herself. She promised me that she would be careful and not put herself into a dangerous position. She promised.

But you broke promises to her, a sick voice reminded me in the back of my head. Like how I promised the night of the wedding, huddling together in the night at Grimmauld Place, that I would never leave her. I told her were were a team. I wiped her tears away and we fell asleep with our pinky entertwined. I broke a pinky promise. That stuff's legit. How could I have broken that when I left her and Harry. I should have shoved my pinky in her face and made her ... UGH! Ron, not important right now, I growled to myself as I watched in horror as Bellatrix got to her feet.

"Big mistake." She smiled sickenly at my Hermione. My stomach dropped to my ankles as a deep gash threaded against Hermione's stomach so loud I could practically hear it from where I stood. My mother gasped in shock. Blood appeared, thickening the front of my sweatshirt, bright and vibrantly red. Anger boiled my own blood, thudding through my veins with my painfully quickened pulse.

My grip tightned on my wand, but I was ready to pounce on that bitch Muggle style. My mother tightened her own grip on my arm, however. Hermione breathed painfully, gasping her stomach in agony. But I saw something flash across her hazel eyes. I knew them well enough to know when she was fired up, enthused. And boy, was she jazzed.

And the dance began. Their arms were in perfect synchronization, choreographed with a sickening pace. When one casted a spell, the other deflected it. Despite the blood staining 'Mione's shirt, her body was fighting just as hard as dear old Bella.

It was an extremely sensual experience watching Hermione duel. The fire burning in her eyes. The taunt and determined line her perfect lips became. The curve of her hips in desperation as her shoulders rotated forcefully with each spell. Her curls tugging loose from her hair tie. The confident smirk had long been whipped off Bellatrix's face and was now grimaced in real concentration at the prospect of her match. Hermione was definately the one to beat her. I might never get the chance to be with her. Be with her.

"Mum, what do we do?" I whispered desperately, gripping my mother's hand so tightly I don't know how she didn't pull away. She watched with the same desperation and fear as if I was the one dueling.

"Hermione can take care of herself. She has the Weasley fire." She said quietly, focusing on the duel unfolding in front of us. I saw the corner of her mouth curve up in a tired smile as she spoke. Their spells were crashing in the air, colliding in fury and explosives. I didn't - couldn't feel anything. Not the pain of my brother or Harry dead. Not the ache of my groaning muscles. Just my heart beating so loud I could hear it in my ears. The pulses were like a dramatic echo to the scene before me. Each thud seemed to slow down the movements, like they were moving in slow motion. Suddenly, Bellatrix's wand flipped through the air, landing with a gentle rustle at Hermione's gray Converse. My lungs expanded in relief as Bellatrix's face dropped in exasperation and surprise.

"Haven't you heard Bellatrix?" Hermione called in a sweet voice, walking closer. "But apparently, I'm the brightest witch of my age." I chuckled darkly, in spite of myself.

"What are you going to do Mudblood? Kill me? How dare you disarm a real witch?" Lestrange growled. I took a step forward, anger rushing through me like flames erupted from the Floo network but my mother tugged me back against the wall.

"When are you going to realize Lestrange that all this bloody blood status crap is rubbish?" Hermione demanded, stepping closer to the wild form of the Dark Lord's servant. "You are nothing but a pathetic piece of trash that is so caught up in being a murderer that you can't even realize that you are nothing but a bloody bitch and you will not win."

"She swore." I breathed to myself in admiration, switching my gaze from a firey Hermione, to a intense Bellatrix and my mother, who seemed to be beaming proudly and disapprovingly at the same time.

"I have the same amount of magic in my veins as you do. And if having magical parents is golden, then you don't deserve it. I may be Muggle-born but you are the one with the filthy heart and the dirty blood you crazy, psychotic bitch." Hermione told her intensely, standing so close that Hermione had her wand pointed at Bellatrix's throat, her arm ram-rod straight.

"You took my sleep and turned it into nightmares. But if there is anything I learned from your evil, pathetic and disgusting master is that there is nothing more sad in the world then a person who has no heart. Who could torture someone with an Unforgiveable for hours without so much as a second glance." My mother gasped at Hermione's words, staring up at me with horror in her blue eyes. I simply nodded, not taking my eyes away from her.

"I hate you so much." Hermione whispered ferociously, tears in her beautiful eyes. With a flick of her wand, the chandelier hanging above Bellatrix crashed down onto her. A horrific sense of deja vu engulfed me. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I heard Voldemort roar and my heart stopped beating as my wife's terrified stare met mine. A shield charm erupted out of no where and it was like the world stopped.

My wife as of a hour and a half ago...

Things were exploding all above me. My heart was throbbing, the pain from losing my brother. My lips tingling from the thought of Hermione's ferocious kiss. We were running through the halls, towards the Shrieking Shack to find Voldemort. Our passageway seemed clear, void of all the danger. A few dark cloaks appeared suddenly, wiping away that happiness. Hermione skidded to a violent stop next to me, Harry slamming into her back at her abrupt stop.

"Go." She whispered to Harry.

"What?" Me and my best friend hissed at her in unison.

"You need to go Harry. There is no other way out. Ron and I will take care of these loons and we'll meet you there. Go Harry." She told him fiercely, briefly glancing at me for a second. I didn't really register Harry's departure because I was too busy obsessing over how she paired "Ron and I" together in a sentence. I really liked that but he was gone before I looked back.

Gulit raged me suddenly: what if I never saw him again? What if one of these Death Eaters kill me? Like Fred? What if I end my life without telling Hermione that I love her? Once again, I was too preoccupied with thought diahrrea before I noticed the Death Eaters advance so closely, Hermione raised her wand and began to duel. I quickly copied her.

Remember everything school has every taught you, Ron. Defense Against The Dark Arts. What a perfect real-world application this was. All those teachers, whether crazy convicts, werewolves, ministry puppets, two Voldemort followers or a media whore all have contributed to my knowledge of dueling.

Quirrel, Lockhart, Lupin, Fake Moody, Umbridge and Snape.

My teachers have bulit up my knowledge of whether or not I will fail. Hermione, too. With all the amount of time she spent helping me with homework, she taught me more then I could imagine.

She taught me how to despise and envy. She taught me how to mix potions or laugh at my own idiocy. Hermione Granger taught me how to be a best friend, to be loyal and courageous. Hermione taught me how to love someone with so much passion it hurt my heart whenever I was away. Hermione Granger also gave me plenty of dueling tips, especially after she whopped my butt in D.A

Keep your wand tightly gripped. Check.

Have a compile of spells in a list in your mind, ready to run down with each motion. Check.

Keep an eye on your target, but keep an eye out for your surroundings. Check.

Luckily, whoever I was dueling didn't have the same upbringing in defensive spells as I did. He was sloppy with his deflection of my spells, missing tons of his own that were far from me. But closer to Hermione. Which was obviously, not okay. The Death Eaters were pushing us closer and closer to the entrance hall, where the majority of the Battle was occuring. Things were exploding all around me as Hermione and I walked backwards, side by side. The way it should be.

Screams, cries and spells were tearing through the air, each one hitting me like a thousand needles, digging into my skin. I risked a glance at Hermione, watching proudly as the Death Eater went flying back into the brick wall. He no longer moved.

As Hermione noticed this, absolute horror in herself washed through her gaze. I could see it, the gulit of murder across her face. The gulit, pain, disappointment in herself. But Hermione is alot different then Death Eaters, those who go out in search of destruction and harm. She had a light in her eyes, of pure innocence no matter how many deaths she would encounter in her fragile eighteen years of life so far. She was better than this.

I wanted to just scoop her up in my arms and run away. I wanted to take away all of our pain, gumple it in a ball and toss it. I don't want to lose her, like I lost my brother. I don't want her to die with a ghost of her beautiful smile etched on her face. She can't go without me telling her how much she means to me. Fred would never have let me live that down.

Another Death Eater had challenged her now and there is nothing Hermione Jean Granger does, if not accept all challenges.

"Hermione!" I yelled, trying not to put her in any danger as I called for her attention. The guy I was dueling was jumping around like a jack rabbit to avoid my spells, but he was just too damn fast.

"Yeah?" She shouted back, even though she stood right next to me. I itched to reach out and grab her hand.

"I'm sorry for all the times I've ever - been mean to you. First year, with the whole - troll thing. And then our fight about Crookshanks. I'm sorry for ruining your Yule Ball and not - asking you first. I'm sorry for being a bloody git about Lavender - and I'm sorry leaving you. I know I never could apologize - enough for all of the pain I've cause but I just need - you to know." My little speech lasted a few moments because I had to keep pausing to take a deep breath to yell and duel at the same time. I know she heard me because she smiled slightly from what I could see in her profile from my peripheral vision.

"Don't you dare." She shouted as she danced around to my other side, following the Death Eaters tracks. The two idiots we were dueling were ducking and dodging our spells around each other, trying to hide.

"What?" I demanded, turning to glare at her. "Hermione -"

"Don't apologize. You're Ron, I know your a git. But your my git, so that's all that matters." She yelled, her voice cracking with stress.

"But Hermione -"

"Don't you dare say goodbye to me, Ron. Not yet." Her voice was dripping with the threat of tears, but I could hear the finality in all of her words. I didn't want to argue because in my heart I knew she was right. She sent a jinx towards my mother, peeling off a Death Eater that was heading her way.

God bless her. She protects those who she loves. My mother was a mother to her. Like an in-law...

It hit me like a ton of bricks, crumpling from the castle walls. I didn't wait to process the pro's and con's of all of the aspects. I didn't deliberate and I didn't even have time for my ears to become a nervous red.

"Hermione!" I shouted, tugging on her arm. She gazed up at me , her eyes alive with fright.

"What?" She demanded.

"Marry me!" Her perfect pink lips rounded into the perfect "O". For once, Hermione Granger was rendered speechless. Her pretty little head was trying to form words, but her mouth was popping open and closed like a gapping fish.

"Before you come up with a million reasons to say no, hear me out. This isn't me trying to say goodbye. This is me trying to tell you that I have been in love with you for years and I do not want to die tonight, which is a serious possibility, without you knowing that. I want to die with you as my wife, knowing that your mine. And please don't go all crazy feminist on me 'Mione, because I'm scared and hurt and I just want to love you.

"We fight and argue but that's us, Hermione. Hermione and Ron. Best friends. I know we're only eighteen, but I want to die with you if I have to. And if we somehow make it out of this hell-hole alive, I know we can make it work. We can be together Hermione, I know we can do it. We will always be best friends with Harry and you'll get a big important job at the ministry. And you will be Mrs. Weasley and we can make a bunch of little Ron's and Hermione Jr's." She stifled back a laugh as tears gathered in her eyes.

"Huh? Doesn't that sound perfect? Doesn't that sound like the perfect thing to keep fighting for? A future? Come on, Hermione. They can have my obnxious ginger hair with your curls. And you can teach them how to read and I'll teach them how to ride a broom. And we can dance at our kids weddings that hopefully will not be like this." She gave a small giggle again.

"Ron..." She whispered my name so quietly I could only tell she did was because of the small movement on her beautiful lips.

"Right now, Hermione. Come on. Let me love you." I urged, pulling her slightly towards a wall away from the destruction. Her brown eyes were teary and full of wonder. I could not, for the life of me, comprehend what she was thinking. She's always been difficult to read expressions from, because she hids them so well.

"Kingsley!" She shouted after a moment, glancing over my shoulder. Kingsley Shaklebolt had a store keeper from Hogsmeade under his arm, helping him rest against the wall seeing as how he was bleeding from the right shoulder, but laughing about how much fun this all. Bloody idiot was clearly drunk. Like that isn't a sure fire way to get yourself killed in a war. Kingsley looked up at her call.

"Marry us!" She screamed, her eyes not leaving mine as brown met blue in a cosmic shifting power.

"You can't be serious?" Kingsley boomed in his deep authorative voice, but he was smiling slightly.

"One hundred percent sir." I responded automatically, reaching for her free hand. Her fingers grasped mine perfectly, like clay meeting a mold, effortless and filling.

"Okay then. Keep your eyes open though." Kingsley smiled, turning back to face the battle.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take me to be your lawfully wedded husband, for like ...ever?" I added, realizing how bloody stupid I sounded. She's probably going to say no now, just watch. I wanted to do a fabulous and epic hand to forehead slap, but her response stopped me.

"I do." She breathed with a sheepish and amazed smile.

"Brilliant!" I grinned like an idiot and she choked on a laugh, her brow furrowing as she raised her wand and shot a spell around me. I didn't turn back to look. Kingsley was already dueling the guy again, who miraculously rebounded from a Ms. Granger spell.

"Do you, Ronald Billius Weasley, take me to be your lawfully wedded wife?" She fired another spell, this time in the opposite direction. I was a little P.O'd that she wasn't taking this seriously, but I realized that her firing spells was keeping my stupid ass alive. The guy who had his back turned during a battle.

"To have and to hold," She smiled here, "For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health or until death do us part?"

"Hell yeah," I said breezily, brushing a curly lock behind her bruised and dirty face.

"Ronald" She sighed with a playful disappointment at my distasteful wedding vows.

"Okay, let's do this." Kingsley said, his deep voice in such a low octive that if it weren't for his playful attitude towards the subject, he would sound threatening. I locked my hand around Hermione's forearm and she did the same as mine, just like Bill and Fleur. A gold and silver string of misty light swirled around our arms, making my entire body tingle like fuzz of a soda. Hermione's grin grew bigger.

"By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife." Kingsley announced, turning back and running down the corridor while shooting off spells and screaming, "YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE."

And I did.

HELLLOO :)
I really hoped you liked this. I've had it running through my head FOREVER and I was bored tonight so I decided to try and get all of my gumbly thoughts onto paper.

PLEASE REVIEW. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I'm writing chapter two right now and it will be in continuation probably from right after they leave Dumbledore's office. They did get married, spur of the moment.

I know a lot of people will be like "WHAT?" Hermione wouldn't do that and Ron would not even suggest it. But I believe that in such a life threatening situation like that, not knowing if you will live the next five minutes, you would want the person you love to love you back. You'd want them to know that. And I think this way, Hermione and Ron can rest easy knowing that no matter what, the other knows their feelings.

But I always got the sense that Ron and Hermione just clicked even more when they were alone then with Harry. So I wanted to pull them apart in a way that would make sense but wasn't super clique like in the Chamber like that's been done like 425891225478686 times. I'm thinking maybe in my later chapters, I'll have a flashback in my version, but who knows.

I'm going to be writing aboutRon grieving for his brother, Ron's families reactions, Hermione getting her parents from Austrailia, Harry's thoughts on this, Fred's funeral and the two very important discussions that teenage newlyweds have when they just won a war? Consummation of a marriage perhaps? ;) don't worry, all PG-13. But these two finally got their acts together and they will have a very important talk all about it later.

RRREEEVVVIIIEEEWWW; please. please. no like really, please. :)

xoxoxo -LOVELOVELOVE- Morgan