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Ron crawled into his four-poster bed more exhausted than he could ever remember. They won. The war was over. Voldemort was dead. Relief rushed over him as he pulled the blankets up over himself and fell fast asleep.
He, Harry, and Hermione slept in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory until the sun rose once again through the window in the corner. Ron opened the curtains to his bed to see a small tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice resting on the bedside table. "Ugh, corned beef," he said to himself, shaking his head as he took his first bite. "Mum must have sent these up." He turned his attention to the bed to his left and saw a bushy brown head emerge from behind the curtains. A smile spread across his face as he locked eyes with Hermione and he held out the tray of food to her. Hermione moved to sit next to him on the edge of his bed and took one happily as they ate together.
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes and as Ron reached for a second sandwich, Hermione spoke. "Do you think Ginny's downstairs guarding the door to keep Harry's admirers from coming up here?" She said, nudging Ron in the side and chuckling. Her joke took him by surprise, and he let out a loud laugh before being shushed.
"Your mum's probably got the whole Order in the Common Room to stand guard."
"I think I'd rather face the Order than one of Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hexes."
It was Ron's turn to shush Hermione's laughter as he heard stirrings behind the curtains surrounding Harry's bed. The sound of Harry stirring came to a stop as their laughter dissolved into a comfortable silence and they both took another bite of their food.
Ron picked up a goblet of pumpkin juice and took a long sip, watching as Hermione pulled the crusts off her second sandwich. He smiled to himself. Had he forgotten that little habit of hers while they were on the Horcrux hunt? So many things changed in their lives, but Hermione's hatred for sandwich crusts could never change.
Setting his cup down, he took the discarded bread from her plate and put it in his mouth with a mischievous smile. This action seemed to have pulled Hermione back from a daze and she gave Ron a confused look, which she quickly changed to that of mock scandal. "Excuse me, Weasley, that's mine."
"You're not going to eat it," Ron said, stealing the next piece and eating it teasingly. "You always leave your crusts behind. I'll have no more of it. This is mine now."
"I never leave any part of my food behind," Hermione said, moving her plate off her lap, swatting at the freckled hand creeping towards her. "The owl that delivers the Prophet usually gets to eat it. I'm not just wasting my food."
Ron flung his head up, dramatically looking around the room, "Well, I see no owl. Looks like I'm eating it." He attempted to reach around Hermione's body while she blocked him from taking the last edge of her sandwich's crust.
"I am not giving you my crusts, Ronald Weasley," Hermione laughed as she held her plate at arms length, struggling to keep it away from Ron's long reach. "Get your own!"
"I am getting my own," Ron teased. "I'm taking your discards and claiming ownership of them." He had his entire top half draped over her body, his fingertips brushing against the porcelain edge of her plate.
He turned his face to her and their eyes locked, their noses a mere inch apart. Ron's throat suddenly felt very dry, the memory of basilisk fangs and broomsticks flashing before him. His Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze swept down to her mouth and back. Hermione licked her lips nervously.
Before he could second guess his decision, he closed the space between them. As their lips collided, he heard a small squeak escape Hermione’s lips. Ron's hands found her waist, pulling her closer while her fingers ran through the hair draped over the back of his neck. Her plate lay abandoned behind them on his four-poster bed.
Hermione smiled against his lips before pulling her lips away from his, resting her forehead against his. She shivered as Ron ran his fingers deep into her hair as he closed the distance between them once more, demanding more. She happily obliged and deepened their kiss.
"Can't you two at least wait until I've left the room, please?" The couple jumped apart at the sound of Harry's voice coming from across the room. Ron looked over to see Harry sitting on his bed, rubbing his eyes so hard it seemed he was trying to scrub the image of his entangled friends from them.
Hermione's face turned a deep crimson as she patted her hair into place and adjusted her clothes nervously.
Ron straightened his rumpled shirt and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry mate," he said, feeling his face growing warm. "You were asleep," he added, laughing. He felt like he'd been hit in the back of the head with a Bludger.
"There's food here for you if you'd like, Harry," Hermione said, desperately trying to change the subject. She hurriedly fixed him a plate, avoiding his face.
"No thanks, I’m going to shower." Harry said as he stood up and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He crossed the room, snatching the last piece of Hermione’s crust on the way. Harry winked at his friends from the doorway, "Behave yourselves."
Ron and Hermione awkwardly watched the dormitory door close behind him before looking at each other.
"Is he going to interrupt like that every time I kiss you?" asked Ron, turning back to Hermione, "I believe that’s going to get old quickly."
Hermione laughed loudly as she wrapped her arms around Ron’s neck and kissed him once more.