A/N: Last chapter... Yay, I think... First segment is a little weird, but it's supposed to be, so try and enjoy the weirdness. Thanks to everyone who read this far. I don't own any of these characters.

Picturesque

Part Seven: Worth

The sun caught on the metal of the trowel and glinted onto his face and forehead, causing Harry to squint. He listened to the sound it made as it met the earth. It was comforting, somehow.

The compact square of dirt rested in Harry's hands, and he held it a little more closely, causing bits to crumble away, scattering. A few fell onto his shirt, but Harry didn't bother to brush them off. The dirt felt cool in his hands, and that was comforting somehow, too.

Ginny turned to Harry and held out her hands. Carefully Harry slowly moved forward with the about-to-be replanted tulip. The soil which it had grown from had been shaped into a perfect square from it's time in a square pot on Ginny's window sill. A petal scraped against Harry's chin as he placed the pack of dirt into Ginny's waiting hands, as if it were something precious.

"Thanks," Ginny said softly, and placed the flower into the spot she had made for it. She began to break up the soil with her hands. The dirt collapsed around Ginny's fingers, getting onto her clothes and into her fingernails.

Harry noticed this, but Ginny didn't seem to... Or if she did, she didn't care. It was refreshing, after being around the likes of Parvati and Lavender, who would screech if they got dirt on their shoes, let alone their hands. Even Hermione could be somewhat squeamish around dirt, unless she was working with it for a grade.

Harry helped Ginny gently pat the new soil down. Together they lightly smoothed it over, their fingers brushing every now and then. At one time, Ginny's heart would be racing at this. But now, it seemed more like they were working toward a common goal. She wasn't striving for a chance with him, or watching him and saying nothing. This was different. She could never be awkward in her own garden. This was her place, Harry was the stranger here, not her. They were mostly being silent, but the silence certainly wasn't awkward. This wasn't about getting a moment alone with Harry, it was about planting a flower and maybe some herbs. Some basil might be nice...

Harry glanced up at the sky. "It's gonna be dark in a couple of hours."

"We have time," Ginny assured him.

And even though they were so close to one another, Ginny's stomach didn't give the slightest of flutters.

Okay, maybe just the slightest.

~~~

Ron looked to the floor. "Soo..." he began.

"That's no way to talk to me!" Hermione snapped.

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered, blushing. "Force of habit."

"It would be," Ron said dryly. Hermione tried to smile, but even without looking at her reflection in the glass of a window, she could tell she looked pitiful.

She was smiling at him, Ron noticed. Okay, so she was smiling weakly at him. But it was a smile. Okay. Okay! He could say stuff. Stuff. Stuff.

"I like Chocolate Frogs."

Hermione blinked.

"Well, I do," Ron said, growing defensive.

"Chocolate frogs..." Hermione said slowly. "I like them too."

"Would you like a Chocolate Frog?"

"No, thank you."

"Why not?" Ron asked desperately.

"Oh, for God's sake Ron!" Hermione cried. "Don't you want to talk about-". Hermione stopped. "...about..." And she faltered. "Damn!" she said with a sigh.

"What?" Ron asked warily.

"For a moment there everything felt normal," Hermione explained. "I was getting fed up with you just like I used to."

"Those were the days." Ron smiled. "You'd be fed up with me because I would be bothering you."

Hermione was surprised to find herself smiling as well. "We have some very strange 'fond memories'."

"No kidding."

Hermione paused. "Ron... Do you think that maybe...That perhaps...we should just... Just...."

"Go back to the way things used to be?" Ron looked at Hermione seriously. He wasn't blushing, which was a change as he had been doing so every time he even looked at Hermione these past few days.

Hermione nodded quickly. Ron had said what she had been afraid to say. "I don't know, Hermione," Ron said. He looked tired.

"Do you want to talk about this somewhere else?" Hermione said, her voice hushed. She was a little nervous that Fred and George might be listening. Ron apparently had the same idea, as he nodded. "Maybe outside?" Hermione then suggested.

Ron nodded again.

"I'll get a sweater," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "It'll be getting dark soon."

"I'll be right back."

Hermione climbed the stairs, leaving Ron to his own thoughts.

~~~

"So, Hermione," Ron said nervously. No, that wasn't right. He stood up straighter, raised his chin confidently.

"So, Hermione," he said again, more casually.

The face he was carefully watching stared at him, the words 'you bloody idiot' clearly written in it's eyes.

"Have you taken up talking to yourself? An interesting hobby, to be sure."

"Shuddup," Ron muttered, angrily turning away from his reflection and ignoring the entrance way's mirror.

And then the next thing he knew Hermione was there, a sweater draped over her arm. She nodded to him, and Hermione reached for the door just as Ron did.

They stood, poised one or two feet from the door, each with an arm outreached toward the door knob. They both looked at each other and awkwardly dropped their arms back to their side, stepping back to let the other open it.

This, however, did not exactly succeed in getting the door open.

Then Ron and Hermione took another step forward at the same time to open the door, finding themselves in the same situation. They laughed nervously.

"You go ahead," Hermione said, with another nervous giggle.

Ron stepped forward and opened the door for Hermione. Yet Hermione didn't move, but stayed still, looking at the open door. After a moment she noticed that Ron wasn't going through it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"What am I..." Ron echoed in disbelief. "I'm holding the bloody door for you!"

Hermione stared. "Oh, goodness Ron, don't be silly."

"Fine," Ron said. "I won't be polite."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione moved forward but Ron stepped outside and slammed the door in her face.

Now, instead of staring at Ron, Hermione now found herself goggling at a door. Grumbling, she flung the door open, her angry strides quickly taking her to Ron.

"YOU," she said loudly, "are UNBELIEVABLY immature."

"Why?" Ron asked loftily. "You slammed a door on me before, if I remember correctly. In fact, you've slammed doors on me PLENTY of times. But wait, wait, when YOU do it, it's not immature, right? Because nothing Hermione Granger does can ever ever be immature, oh no. But tell me, Herm, what would you call it exactly, seeing as immature won't do? Let me see. How about 'one acting with the behavior of, or equivalent to, an ass'. Does that work for you? Because it definitely works for ME."

"Hey, Lovers!"

Ron and Hermione's gaze flew to the house. A redheaded twin was sticking his head out the window.

"Yeah, you two. Could you keep it down out there? We're trying to finish an invention. Why don't you wander away and snog behind a bush or something, eh?"

The window was shut loudly.

Ron and Hermione looked back to each other. They were both beginning to feel stupid. Without another word, they walked forward together as if nothing had happened. Hermione caught Ron's eyes narrowing. She shot him a questioning look and he gestured to the Weasley's garden. Hermione followed his gaze. Ginny and Harry were kneeling together, gardening. She could hear them talking softly.

"They've been like that for hours," Ron said with disbelief, his eyes still narrowed.

"Only one or two," Hermione said quickly. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell Ron about how...caught up in each other Ginny and Harry were in her dream. Besides, it was only a dream. This was the same dream that had her waving to a cloud that looked like a choo-choo train.

"Yeah," Ron said, turning away from them and walking again. "It's nice, I guess. I mean, Ginny needs someone to talk to. It's good that Harry's trying to be sympathetic to her."

Hermione wasn't sure if she would have called it sympathy, but she was relieved that Ron looked untroubled by them again as they walked on, down a dusty path. Trees appeared less frequently, and despite the nearing evening, the sun was still strong. Strong enough to give Ron a moment to study Hermione face.

"You've been crying," he said suddenly, and before he could stop himself he reached out and touched the faint trail a tear had left on Hermione's cheek, his thumb soft as it went down the trail of the tear.

"Yeah," she said quietly. There was no point in denying it now.

They stood like that for a moment. Hermione found herself wondering if maybe they would kiss, but then Ron turned away and began walking again. Hermione didn't run to catch up with him, and he stopped walking but didn't turn to face her. He was looking at the horizon.

"Earlier," he began, "I was thinking that if we just forgot everything..."

"What?" Hermione asked, finding it slightly nerve-wracking to talk to the back of Ron's head. She realized he was touching on what they were talking about earlier.

"Maybe things would be easier," Ron finished finally, turning around again. "Easier for you. For me. For everyone." He looked at her seriously. "Because Hermione... I need your friendship." And he was blushing again. "I mean...Yeah. That's what I mean. I don't know what I'd do if I lost it somehow. We always argue, I mean we always do, but if I was...well...if we were..." Ron paused and started over. "If something happened between us and we fought, I could lose you forever. Not you as a...a..."

"Girlfriend?" Hermione supplied.

"Yeah. That. Not only that, but I would lose you as a friend and as someone to talk to... Maybe lose you from my life forever."

Hermione was used to arguing with Ron, but after this she couldn't find an argument that didn't sound childish and faint. "You're right," she said. "It can't be worth it." It can. "It can't be."

~~~

"Crimey," Fred muttered. "They're still out there."

"They're crazy," George said, following his twin's gaze. "Out of their minds."

Fred shook his head in disgust, continuing to watch Harry and Ginny.

"Well then," George said turning away from the window, "guess we should get back to those exploding tea cups. I was thinking that maybe we should add a bit of gypsy dust, that should do the trick."

"Maybe he's gay," Fred said suddenly.

"What?" George paused and then laughed. "Who? Harry?"

"Well, LOOK at him! I mean, I'm not eager to have Ginny start dating... But I hate seeing her beat herself up, just because Lightning-Face doesn't have the brains to notice her."

"Lightning-Face?"

"And look at her! You know what comes from all of this, George?"

"Substandard name calling?"

"Low self-esteem! Ginny will think she's not good enough for him."

"She won't think that for long. She's pretty, I'm sure next year the guys in her year will be all over her."

"It'll be too late. She'll already have low self-esteem from Harry's 'rejection', and then she'll let all those guys take advantage of her." Fred gave a frustrated sigh. "If Harry had any hormones at all he would have already taken advantage of her, like a proper guy."

"And you'd like that?"

"No! I'm just explaining my 'Harry's Gay' theory, okay?!"

"I talked to Ginny. Told her to find out what's going on between her and Harry, to finally figure things out."

"And?"

"She told me to go away."

"Perfect. Just perfect."

George sighed. "Yeah. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione are off God Knows where."

"What?!"

George looked at his twin in surprise. "Didn't you see? They went off somewhere outside together."

Fred's worried expression turned to a grin. "We've got to catch up to them. Humiliate Ron some more, maybe after this he'll finally stay out of our joke-shop work."

George looked tempted, but shook his head. "Fred, we've got to finish these tea cups. Thought we were going to try them out on Percy today."

"Oh, come on... Just this last time, then Ron'll leave us alone for good."

George sighed and put away the gypsy dust he had taken out. "Fine. Fine." Fred and him headed toward the doorway.

"And just WHERE do you two think you're going?"

Fred and George grimaced. They easily recognized their mother's booming voice. "Percy was speaking with me," Mrs. Weasley said, heading up the stairs to meet the twins. "He had some very interesting things to say. Apparently the parchment you lent him disintegrated as soon as his quill touched it."

Fred and George exchanged guilty looks.

"So get BACK into your room, boys. I thought that maybe, MAYBE this time you would give up this joke shop nonsense, but noo... Yes, that's right, you stay in there until dinner. Think about what you did to your poor brother. How is he EVER going to get work done with you two here, hm? Hmm? Think about that, will you?"

Mrs. Weasley went on a bit longer, and Fred and George tuned her out, as usual. When she finally left George looked at Fred incredulously.

"Now c'mon," George said, shaking his head. "You really want to humiliate Ron while we have Percival Weasley to harass?"

Fred smirked. "Huh. So where's that gypsy dust you were talking about?"

~~~

Ron's heart sank. Hermione didn't think that they were worth it. What was he doing, then? What was he doing out here, trying to convince her that maybe... Maybe...

Heh. And a hell of a job he was doing, too, trying to convince Hermione when he couldn't even convince himself that maybe the chance was worth taking. She agreed with him, too. She agreed that it wasn't worth it, that he wasn't worth it. Pretty funny, really, the one time they agreed on something it was the one thing he didn't want them to agree on. Pretty funny.

Hermione was looking at him strangely. He wished she would look away, or maybe change her expression. It'd be nice if she would get angry at him. Nice and familiar.

It can't be, she had said. It can't be. And suddenly nothing was more important to Ron than convincing her that they could be. He met her gaze, and his face was so in earnest that Hermione was taken back.

"No, see, that's what I thought..." Ron started. "I thought that it couldn't be worth it. But then... Well, I was talking to Percy."

Hermione laughed before she could stop herself. "This is Percy Weasley we're talking about, right?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah, yeah. I can hardly believe it myself. He asked me if I could continue my life never knowing if..." He stopped, realizing Hermione was caught on his every word. He looked down at the grass. "Never knowing if maybe something could have happened between us... And then I thought, what if I missed an opportunity? What if I go through life wondering what would have happened if I had just talked to you..." He had been muttering at first but his voice grew stronger as he continued, even though he still refused to look up at Hermione.

Hermione was glad that he didn't look at her. She wouldn't have known what to offer him. A smile? She hardly felt that fit. A nod of agreement? Should she tilt her head indulgently, silently asking him to continue?

She wanted to ask him to continue, more than anything. She wanted to hear what Ron would have said and she wanted to feel what he too felt as he talked.

But he didn't look up at her. His head remained low and he fell silent. Why wouldn't he look at her? Hermione felt incredibly alone suddenly. She needed something from Ron, something to tell her how to react or what to say or what to think. She had nothing here. The feeling was actually familiar... It was the same one from the dream. When Ron asked her if she knew what she was supposed to say.

Charlie's words echoed in her mind. "You can't find what to say from any book."

She leaned over and kissed Ron.

Dream-Charlie seemed smarter than Real-Charlie anyway.

~~~

"So," a loud voice said, causing Percy's shoulders to jump in surprise. The sudden jerk upset the bottle of ink, which rolled to it's side. Four- no five blots of ink landed on the parchment Percy had been working on, and the quill tumbled to the floor. With a deliberately noisy sigh, Percy bent down and picked up the quill, clicking his tongue at the state his parchment was now in.

"I hope you're happy," he said without turning his head. "It's no good now."

"Ah yes," George said, following Fred in. "The all-important cauldron case. Gone. Ruined forever by a few ink blots."

"There are five ink blots, for your information," Percy said, whirling around in his seat and glaring at the twins. "A few would be considered a small cluster. Five is a large cluster."

"What's the deal?" Fred said, striding to Percy with George. Together the two managed to surround him, in a way only Fred and George could. "Snitching on us, I mean."

"Oh, that," Percy said airily. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in your room?"

Mutual glares were all the response Percy got. He shook his head.

"Really, shouldn't you two be used to this game? You bother me, I tell Mum...And look, she bothers you." Turning around again, Percy cleaned up the parchment as best he could and began writing again. "The problem you two have," he went on, still scribbling, "is that you're bored. Ron and Hermione's little soap opera is still going on, isn't it? Why are you two still here?"

"They're gone," George said looking sullen. "'Dunno where they got to."

"They left?" Percy gave a private smile to his desk. The purpose of this was merely to infuriate the twins, who glanced at each other.

"What's up?" George asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" was the reply they finally got, after a few moments where the scratching of Percy's quill was all to be heard.

"Do you know something?"

"Me? How could I bother myself with your petty affairs? Oh, but..." Percy dipped his quill into the ink. "I did happen to talk with Ron-"

"What?"

"About Hermione."

Fred and George stared. Then Fred began to laugh.

"You gave Ron love advice? No way..."

"Hmm, well, he seemed to listen, didn't he?"

"How did you..." George managed to say. "What did you..."

"-say to him?" Percy supplied. George nodded.

"Oh, nothing important. Just general common sense."

"And that would be?"

Percy rose from his seat and moved across the room to the door.

"Just my usual wisdom, things I've picked up over my years on this great Earth." He grinned. "Perhaps running an advice column is my true calling in life. Nice to have something to fall back on, hm? More stable than relying on, say, a joke shop."

He shut the door, and Fred and George gaped after him.

~~~

"I don't know," Hermione said quietly, as she and Ron pulled away. "What to do, I mean."

Ron was looking at her again, and finally she felt as though she knew something, as though maybe now she was a little more grounded. A little less afraid. Something like that.

"What was that for?" Ron asked with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know the answer to that, either."

Hermione was startled when Ron gave a short laugh. "This," he said, "is completely screwed up."

"What is?" Hermione asked crossly, embarrassed that he had laughed at her.

"You just gave into the fact that you didn't know the answer to something."

"Ohmygod...You... You're right." Hermione promptly sat down in the middle of the dusty road and buried her face in her hands. Tentatively Ron touched Hermione's shoulder.

"What?" came a small distressed voice. Ron's eyes widened as he heard a muffled sob.

"Nonono!" he said, pulling his hand away swiftly. "Don't do that!"

This only resulted in a louder and more apparent sob.

Ron ran a hand through his hair nervously, standing next to Hermione clumsily. He was very glad her eyes were covered, as she couldn't see how increasingly pale he was becoming.

"Hermione..." he said after a moment, his voice gentle in contrast to his former startled tone. "Please..."

"Ibam fo ficathis."

"Uh...what?"

"I said I am so SICK of this," Hermione repeated, removing her hands from her face. "I thought we were here to figure things out Ron. Instead it's turning into a crappy little pity party for none other than ME. Well, guess what? I don't like throwing those parties anymore than you do. I don't like going in circles. I don't like avoiding solutions."

"Bull!" Ron said, his voice rising. "You love doing all of that. Yeah, anything to keep you from admitting what you feel. No problem saying what you think though, or measuring the odds. Or even just sitting down in the middle of the road to cry, just so you don't have to think about what you really want."

Hermione was staring at Ron. "You can't be serious. What exactly do you think you've been doing out here? First thing you do is give me a monologue on why we shouldn't be together, how it isn't worth it, and oh, it can only end badly. And I said my lines, Ron, I did. I nodded politely."

"And you agreed! You fell right back on your own pillow of, um...denial."

"The same denial you've been using since DAY ONE of my time here... Maybe even before that." Hermione had stood up and was looking straight at Ron. "You bring me out here just to tell me that you and I...that we're not worth it?! I don't believe it. When it comes right down to it, Ron Weasley, there's only one thing I need to know."

"What's that?" Ron said with a sneer.

"Do you want us to be worth it?"

~~~

"G'bye, Charlie!" Ginny called out, running toward her brother. Charlie was out in the yard, getting ready to Apparate back to work. He gave her a warm hug as she reached him.

"Bye, Gin," he said fondly. The others had already said their goodbyes, save Harry. "Harry's finishing some planting... But he says bye too."

Charlie's eyes wandered over to where Harry was. "Are you two a..." he stopped as Ginny began to blush. "I mean...I'll see you Ginny. You better send me lots of owls, I get lonely sometimes."

"I will," Ginny promised.

"And don't let Fred and George hog all the chocolate frogs."

"I won't."

"And make sure to-." Ginny gave him a look. "Sorry...It's a big brother instinct." He kissed her lightly on top of her head before disapparating.

Ginny watched the space where her brother had been for a few moments before turning back and walking to Harry. He was patting down some dirt. His face looked more peaceful than Ginny had ever seen it before. Hearing her footsteps he turned and gave her a sincere smile.

"Charlie left," Ginny said, kneeling down besides Harry and getting back to work.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I guess I should have said goodbye."

"It's okay," Ginny said without looking at Harry. "He was in a rush anyway."

Charlie was going to ask if they were a couple. God, she had been having a nice time, and then he had to remind her of her feelings. Did Harry think this was some pathetic attempt to get him alone with her? Was he just humoring her?

"My parents used to garden."

"What?" Ginny jumped, but Harry didn't see her. His eyes were trained on a flower. "What?" Ginny said again, a little more calmly.

"My parents used to garden. In that photo album, maybe ten of the pictures are of them gardening together."

"Oh..." Ginny felt very awkward. "Well...I mean... We can stop. We've gotten a lot of work done already and-"

"No." Harry's voice was fierce. Ginny gave him a sidelong glance. "This is... I mean... I can see why they loved it." He smiled to himself. "It's like discovering a piece of their minds."

Ginny didn't know quite what to say to this. She concentrated on planting instead, expecting Harry to lapse into silence. But he kept talking.

"It's strange though, thinking of my parents as people living lives. I never really thought of them as anything but..." Harry stopped and started over. "It's just weird to think of them getting up in the morning like everybody else, and having hobbies and things they loved and hated. Talking about stupid stuff... Going through the day, and then falling asleep again, just like everybody else in the world."

"I guess that's what happens," Ginny said, not quite sure what she was saying. "Weird things happen to everybody, but through everything... what choice do you have but to keep living? Everybody has quirks and wishes... Things that make them human. Your parents were never an exception."

Harry was watching her closely, as if he was waiting for her to continue. Ginny looked down. "You know what I mean," she said quietly, her voice not nearly as confident as it had been. "You yourself are living proof, Harry."

Harry tilted his head in confusion. "You've been through more than anybody should have to go through," she explained. "But you keep going. You keep waking up every morning and you keep playing Quidditch and you keep taking tests for school... Despite everything. I just mean...everyone has had to use normalcy as a resort sometimes. Even the great heroes of our time are normal people for the most part. And then we idolize them, and somehow that takes away from their humanity. That's why you need to learn more about your parents... To make them human and real."

Harry was staring at her, and Ginny didn't break the glance. Awkwardly Harry reached out and touched Ginny's arm. Ginny wasn't sure why. Harry wasn't either.

"You'd think that... I don't know, you'd think that maybe as I got older I'd forget them more," Harry said slowly. "But it seems the older I get the more real they are. The more I can see them."

"That's because the older you get the more you're like your parents."

Harry turned away, as if he was once again turning back to his work. He blink furiously. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't be stupid, not here not here not here, not now, not with Ginny's eyes on him. He could almost feel her concern. He could picture her perfectly, sitting there, watching him. She'd be staring, eyes filled with bewilderment and concern, red hair tickling her shoulders, a small smudge of dirt on her cheek from working in the small garden.

God, he really could picture her perfectly.

Ginny watched Harry's back. He turned away. Obviously couldn't be bothered with her, especially after her little speech. She felt stupid. What in the world had she been saying? He must think she was a freak. Hey, she agreed with him. Who was she to talk about death, and humanity anyway?

A freak. A patronizing freak. One who would love nothing more than to disappear at that very moment. Things had been going well between her and Harry. Very well, in fact. Or at least, they had been going well until she had decided to talk. Until she decided to-

"Thanks." Harry's voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. He turned to Ginny finally. She carefully studied his eyes, and for once didn't blush in doing so.

For the first time she realized that Harry, too, was only human. She had idolized him, hadn't she? And suddenly she didn't... Suddenly all she saw was a normal boy, who had to go through life just like everybody else.

I really think he may like you, Gin.

Why was she remembering George's words at a time like this?

She was finally seeing Harry the way he always wanted to be seen: A kid.

She liked him all the more. He was no longer a famous name. Now he was more real. Everything was more real. Harry woke up and he slept, he got angry and he laughed at stupid jokes. He could made mistakes.

He could cry.

And he could like normal girls. Normal little sister-types that also laughed at stupid jokes and made mistakes. Normal girls that sometimes cried. He could like them... Or at least know that they liked him.

I'm telling you, Ginny, there's a good chance Harry likes you. Why don't you just find out?"

All right, George.

"Harry..." Ginny said taking a deep breath and smiling. "There's something I've got to tell you."

~~~

"Do you want us to be worth it?"

Hermione's words jolted Ron awake, and he could only stare at Hermione, so unexpected were they.

"Well?" she said, impatiently tapping her foot.

"C'mon," he said quietly.

This caught Hermione by surprise. "What? Where?"

Ron began moving forward up the path.

"Ron." Hermione sighed. "We don't have time for these games."

"Just come on. Follow me." He didn't turn around, and after a moment Hermione ran to catch up with him.

"Ron," she said again, her eyes settling on him with a frown. "It's going to be dark soon."

"You have a sweater," he said cheerfully, waiting for her to catch up with him, eyes laughing.

"You don't," she pointed out.

"I'll be fine," he said airily, walking again.

"Ron, stop being stupid! Now tell me where we're going or I'll-" Hermione gasped, cutting off her own words. Her eyes widened.

They were back on the top of the hill. The same hill Ron had taken her to the first day she had gotten there this summer.

Except this time, the sun was setting.

Poets had always raved about sunsets, and artists had always tried to express the pureness of the colors with faded paints. But the words they weaved and the pictures they painted fell short at this moment. The sun was quickly falling, and the red sky was growing streaked with dark blue. The pink flush of the clouds was fading to a light purple, and some were already the dark colors they would remain until dawn, leaving parts of the sky a dynamic heart wrenching picture, and other parts a soothing pastel.

"Ron..." Hermione murmured quietly, looking to him. He was still looking forward into the horizon. The sky was casting sharp shadows on the tiny cottages below. Finally he turned to Hermione.

"I don't want to stay up at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because I keep wondering if I had a great chance that I refused, just because I was stupid and afraid. I want to take a chance."

The words sounded stale and formulatic when they reached Ron's ears. They hadn't sounded like that in his head. In his head the words had sounded real and pure...

He could only imagine how they sounded to Hermione. He waited anxiously. She would laugh.

She didn't.

"You weren't the only one who was afraid," Hermione said after a moment in silence, during which she had watched Ron intently. "I kept running away... Everything I went through with Viktor, with Harry... They only forced me to admit my real feelings for you, despite everything we'd be risking... Our friendship."

Ron looked at her. Awkwardly he took her hand, looking slightly embarrassed, as even this light gesture seemed important and intimate.

"Hermione, I want us to be worth it."

She smiled.

"Then," she said, "I guess we are."

They kissed very lightly, still nervous. The same shadows that fell sharply on houses were falling on them, adding intensity to every moment.

"So...we're..." She started, then stopped.

"Yeah," Ron replied with a slightly shaky smile which grew more real. They watched the setting sun for a moment. "Beautiful," he whispered.

"Sunsets always are," Hermione said.

Sunsets. Right. He could go with that. "It's like something out of a picture," Ron said finally. "It's just..."

"Picturesque."

"Yeah."

"Things aren't going to be perfect," Hermione said softly, finding herself caring about this fact very little as she leaned against Ron.

"No," Ron agreed, taking in the scent of Hermione's hair.

"We'll argue," she went on, smiling and taking a deep breath.

"We'll fight."

"We'll yell."

"We may even throw shoes at each other."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Uh... Never mind," Ron said, grinning silently.

They kissed slowly, letting the moment linger longer than they had planned it to.

"I guess we should go back," Hermione said, another cloud growing dark. "Have dinner." She paused. "Right after I kill Fred and George."

"Works for me." Ron smirked, but neither made any move to get up as Hermione rested her head against Ron's shoulder and his arm went around her waist.

They watched night arrive in silence, veils of shadows falling over the two.

fin

Okay, so, a very strange ending to a very strange fic... Sorry about that, I was in a very strange mood when I wrote this. I realize it's lacking the usual humor, but that's partly because it didn't work with this chapter...so yeah, sorry about the weirdness. To think I was expecting Picturesque to have only three parts. The scene with Ginny and Harry is purposely going to be left as a cliff-hanger. I was very surprised at how G/Hy this fic got, it's not like I'm some big G/H fan- never even cared much one way or the other. Anyway, I didn't want the fic to end all tied up with a red ribbon, but if anyone would like to write a fanfic continuing from that scene, please tell me about it, I'd love to read it. Oh, and there's probably some editing or html mistakes in this...I was very rushed. Sorry!

Anyway..Thanks to everyone I've thanked in previous chapters, and thanks once again to the reviewers. I guess no more rambly end-of-fic-notes until my next fic. See you then, hopefully!