'There was still so much learning to do. But above all she wanted to love. She wanted to love him.' One-shot of Ron and Hermione learning to love and be together shortly after the war.

'She feels his hand slip into hers and then they are running again...' Ron and Hermione. Little moments that happened throughout their lives together.

'She froze. Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly at him, suspiciously coming to the conclusion. Ron had produced a small box. A ring box. "Ron, if that's what I think it is, you already know my answer."' - One-shot of Ron and Hermione's engagement.

' "Where's Ron, Harry?" Hermione was screaming inside when Harry finally managed to meet her eyes. Her heart was breaking piece by piece. One silent tear slid down her cheek, and at that moment she knew. She knew, but she wished she didn't. She nodded, feeling everything shut down inside of her.'

'Shane kept thinking about how strange it all was. How this strange girl had come into his strange life in the strangest town in existence and how he cared about her.' One-shot of a moment between Claire and Shane after the fight and fire in Book 1, Glass Houses.

It's one of those nights. One of the nights he wakes up yelling, shaking and drenched in his own sweat. And he'll grab his loaded gun in his trembling hands, jolting about in panic. He's terrified of the darkness, the oblivion.

And all the while she stares at the ring, the ring which is on her finger where it had been loving placed. It was a time of happiness and freedom and new beginnings. Her mind is racing away but she can't help but be amazed by something so pretty, the way the light dances over the clear diamond casting tiny shadows everywhere.

He comes and goes, like a cold breeze in the night, but she's cocooned like a caterpillar tucked away from anything real. His touch is enough to drive her crazy, to send her senses reeling and to make her heart pound like a drum. She never knows what he's thinking, if he'll come back at the end of the night or if he'll make it through.

Monday was red. Tuesday white. Wednesday yellow. Thursday pink. Friday blue. And if she was working at the weekend, glittery ones grown by Luna. The roses were a way of reminding her of their love, strength and passion. She glanced at the vase, laughing. A vase of glittery flowers.