AN: Hi everyone, just a few things I needed to tell you all, and then back to the story!

1. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support! I keep hearing of my stories being recommended on Tumblr and other websites and I just wanted to say how amazing that is for me that you guys like it so much. This is just a hobby for me, but it means so much to be validated like that and I'm glad my stories are enjoyable.

2. This is NOT a story INTENDED to have regular updates. It will not. There likely won't ever be a definite "end". Simply, whenever I get an idea for a Romione oneshot, I will put it here. I will not regularly update it like I try to (and fail to) do with multi-chapter fics. That doesn't mean it'll be updated less frequently – it just means it won't be on a predictable schedule and that's how it's intended to be. I see each oneshot as a separate story.

3. Sorry for the spacing, I've fixed it. J

4. Keep the requests going! Although, I will say now so that I do not keep anyone hanging only to come to disappointment – although I am a young adult perfectly capable of handling adult themes, I am not a fan of fanfiction involving graphic displays of affection, including "smut" or "sexy times". Nothing beyond kissing is going to happen in this story. My reasons are the following: It's not something I enjoy writing or reading; I don't want to turn people away with high ratings; and I have, on occasion, a young audience. Thank you all for understanding and hopefully you will still read and enjoy my stories!

Julie Tulips

A Promise In the Night

Auburn clouds waltzed gently to the dying melody of summer. The air was yet soft, but held within itself the familiar sharp sting of ice, eliciting the occasional gasp from passerby as the London street streets wound up, and up, and up, losing themselves in the misty haze. Dust was settling, at long last, on the rooftops of the wizarding world; heavy, perfmued blankets envelopped the town in sleep. A lonely breeze wandered through the parks, up rickety chimneys and down storm drains, reaking of sour milk and, yet, oddly, tranquility. It twisted long and far, until the sun grew dim and the night shed her last yellow-toned cloak for one made of thick black velvet. The stars punctured tiny holes in the veil; they were as tiny eyes, peeping on thousands of people laying down to sleep, reading their last bedtime stories, sharing one last kiss to last until the morning. The wind swept on through the streets into the cold embrace of midnight, finally rattling the shutter of a small, brown-bricked house at the end of a long cobbled lane.

Its garden was bare, but kept. The earth was cleared of the last shrivelled plants, ready to give itself over to frost, becoming slushy brown crumbs. A few pumpkins sloped softly around the hand-made attempt at a garden shed, with a few vines adopting protruding nails as their homes for the long winter ahead. And yet, the house seemed alive - ready as ever for spring, in fact, positively yearning for it, longing every second for the first rays of sunshine of the new year to bring petals and buds to life.

A scream pierced the night.

Her fists gripped the periwinkle sheets as if fighting for her life. The brunette's bushy hair knotted itself into twists and turns as she struggled. A delicate picture frame fell from her bedstand and smashed against the wooden floor. A void formed around her; she did not belong. There should not be sadness in this new world, in this brave, brave world. Yet, Hermione screamed, and she screamed, and she screamed.

The sound of running footsteps came down the hall as the door to her room burst open. "Hermione!" cried Ron again, in desperation. He knelt on her bed and put one arm around her waist, letting the pressure tell her she wasn't alone. He shook her arm. "Hermione, Hermione, wake up!" His blue eyes were full of tired, pleading tears, sparkling against his freckled cheeks. After a minute, he dared a hand on her shoulder and shook her again, bringing her up and into a tight hug as he sobbed.

"Hermione, please, please wake up, you're alright, please, you're fine, just - "

Her arms fought against him as if he were some monster, punching and clawing, but Ron didn't let go. Finally, with a last echoing shriek and a particularly harsh shake from Ron, her eyes opened.

"Oh - " Her lips managed to utter before she dissolved into a sobbing mess in Ron's embrace. His fingers gently stroked her curls. "Ron - Ron I - the Manor - she - she was - it - it hurt so MUCH, Ron! I - "
"Shh," He whispered, feeling, rather than hearing, her words stop and her shaking turning to trembling. "I- I know, Herm, I know and I'm - I'm so sorry I couldn't... I mean, I didn't... I didn't manage to stop her. Her and all the rest of them. I'm sorry I couldn't hack that stupid Mark out of this world like - like I wanted to. " He took a deep breath. "And I'm not Harry, I'm not - I'm not going to say it's all going to be alright. It won't - I know it won't. I - I - I won't get.. Fred back, or innocent little baby Gin who didn't know about any - any diary, or Tonks, Lupin, Sirius... or you, the... the way you were..." Softly, Ron brushed a kiss against her hairline, his heartbeat stopping just for one milisecond. "But... but I can be here for you, when you want, and... and I've gotten really, really bloody good at hugs." He held her tightly. Nothing would take her from him - never. Never again.

"Ron," She gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like..." Her words dissolved into nothingness. They both knew, as their heartbeats synched, that this was not a talk for now. There have been many talks and there would be plenty more. But not now. She pulled back and her eyes softened. The soft pads of her fingers traced the bruises on his cheek. "Did - did I just-"

"Doesn't matter," said Ron. It truly didn't - he knew she had no idea. How could someone be expected to control their limbs in their sleep?

"She was ... she was a monster," Hermione whispered. "An animal, in human casing. Sucking all the evils of this world inside of her to let it out and then to refuel on the agony of her victims... and she's gone, Ron, she's gone... for good; yet, in my mind, she still plagues me. I'm tired of fighting the monsters, Ron. Frankly, I'm exhausted. This is Harry and our's last night out here. The Ministry won't let us stay here and 'recover' forever. Tomorrow, the interviews will be over, and it'll be back home. My parents don't know a thing about the war; and yours know perhaps too much. How will I fight it all then?"

Ron smiled. A tentative, tear-filled smile. "We'll fight it together, no matter how far apart. And one day, if - if you want us to, we won't be too far apart at all. Listen now." He cupped her chin, bringing the tear-stained face closer. "We'll fight together. You and I. The Redhead-Brunette Alliance." This elicited a small giggle. "Together, against the perils of this world. Against shopping trips, and grief, and bad weather, and my eternal awkwardness and - " He pressed his lips to hers - "Against nightmares."

"I'd like that," She whispered softly. Hermione's bitten nails combed through the red sea of bedhair tangles as once again, their lips met. A tear dropped from her eyelash, hitting the bridge of his nose and then dropping to the floor. The salty water reflected the sky; the single droplet was fused with a peppering of golden stardust.

The kiss sealed a promise; a promise not broken by war, nor children, nor plastic spiders, Prophet articles, scarred letters or even muddy benches in forgotten train stations. A promise forged in pain and in love. And while Ron pulled back and returned to cot to reassure Harry of Hermione's safety (and for a bit of sleep, after all, kissing can be exhausting), Hermione knew she'd never be alone ever again.

From that night forward, it was not her war or his war. It was their war, and they knew they had already won.