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Format: Novel
Chapters: 50
Word Count: 132,900
Status: COMPLETED
Rating: 15+
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers
Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Arthur, Molly, Luna, Ginny, OC
Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny
First Published: 07/19/2009
Last Chapter: 11/20/2011
Last Updated: 11/20/2011
Summary:
Being in love with Ron started out being perfect, so perfect Hermione moves in with him. But living with Ron proves to be more difficult than Hermione anticipated. After a gruesome break up, Ginny will do anything to get the two back together. Including, for example, putting them on a game show titled 'The Perfect Match' and having them fall right back in love. A story stocked full of memories, laughter, tears, and, above all, triple chocolate ice cream.
SEQUEL POSTED!
A/N: Hello, and welcome to the first chapter of 'The Perfect Match'. I got this idea swimming in the Ocean a few days after the premeire of the 6th mov ie and I had to go home and write it. This is one of my favorite stories I've written so far so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reviews are greatly apreciated and if you have any questions feel free to ask on my author's page! I do not own Harry Potter or anything you recognise. Enjoy! ~writergirl8
The couple walked down the street, holding hands, laughing, and smiling at each other, clearly in love. These happy times after the war were times to be doing activities such as laughing, smiling and falling in love, as the activities had not been done since Voldemort came back. Diagon Alley was fully restored and as magical and interesting as ever, Hogwarts was back to its enchanting, majestic state and slowly, one by one, people were beginning to be happy. Such was the way of Hermione's life. After removing the curse on her parents, she had come back to the burrow to see Ron waiting for her in her room. She remembered the haunted, afraid look on his face when she arrived back in the room she always stayed in. He'd looked so nerMvous.
“I was wondering where you were.” he said.
“I went to see my parents and remove the charm.” Hermione said quietly, not meeting his eyes. The thought of their first kiss was still embarked into her brain, replaying and replaying over and over and over again. She glanced over at Ron, who was staring at his hands, looking as though he might like to sink into the ground. Hermione didn't blame him.
“The kiss.” Ron said suddenly, and Hermione felt her head shoot up in surprise. “Did you mean it?”
Did she mean it? Did she mean every single second, every single millisecond, every single inch of that kiss?
“Yes.” Hermione said. She saw from the corner of her eye Ron's head snapping up, with what could only be described as hope flickering across his features. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest as she turned to face Ron. His blue eyes searched her own, and suddenly all Hermione wanted to do was run into his arms and lean against his chest and cry over everything, over how stupid they had been at Hogwarts, over how afraid of loosing him she had been during the final battle, over how much she loved him but she was just too damn stubborn to tell him. And since there was nothing stopping her, she did.
Ron stiffened at the contact at first, but then relaxed. He stroked Hermione's back until she stopped crying. Finally, Hermione looked up and saw in Ron's eyes that he understood why she was crying. And then he leaned down and kissed her.
***
Ron looked at Hermione intensely. She seemed to be struggling with something, like she wanted to do something but didn't know if she should. But before Ron could ponder what it was, Hermione had suddenly rushed into his arms and was crying quickly and loudly. Ron stiffened in shock, then realized that he liked the feeling of Hermione in his arms. He put his arms around her and held her, letting a single tear slip from his own eyes. At last, she looked up at him. He realized that they were both thinking the same things. They had been so stupid at Hogwarts, wasted so much time they could have had together.
Hermione's lips were parted slightly from crying. Ron, without thinking, leaned down and gently kissed her for the second time in his life. It was like their first kiss, he supposed, except slightly less fast and more gentle. Neither wanted to pull back; it was like making up for extremely lost time. Ron peeked one eye open to see Hermione's eyes closed, her eyebrows relaxed, one hand on his chest, one in his hair. He became conscious of where his own hand lay on Hermione's back and could feel his face turning red.
Finally he pulled back, looking at Hermione's red, shocked face....
Hermione was startled from her memory of both her feelings and the feelings Ron had shown her in the pensive as a gift on their first anniversary as a couple from a knock on the door.
“Hermione!” Ginny called into her room. Sharing a small apartment with Ginny was cramped, but it also proved useful as she was more of a expert on Ron and guys in general. Whenever Hermione had a question about Ginny's brother or dating, Ginny always had the answer.
“Come in.” Hermione said, turning away from the window over-looking Diagon Alley and walking over to the magically expanded walk-in-closet in her bedroom. Ginny joined her there in a few moments, already shifting through Hermione's clothes in her mind. Silently, she reached into Hermione's closet and pulled out a semi-casual navy blue skirt and a white blouse.
“Why am I supposed to look so nice?” asked an amused Hermione, surveying Ginny's choices.
“I heard from Harry that Ron's planning to ask you something tonight. What, I don't know but it's going to be special. He's apparating you to a beach and a boardwalk and it's supposed to be really romantic.” Ginny said matter of factly, picking up a brown purse and a pair of white strappy sandals. Then she turned around and saw the state of Hermione's hair.
“Oi.” Ginny groaned. “How much time do we have?”
“He's picking me up at 6:30.” Hermione said innocently.
“ YOU'RE ONLY GIVING ME AN HOUR TO FIX THAT!”
“I didn't feel the need to tell you until you were making those annoying kissy noises to whomever you were talking to on your wand.”
“Well I'll be dammed if I'm not allowed to make kissy noises to my boyfriend!” Ginny said angrily. “Now I'm not telling you the spell for safe sex!”
Hermione choked on the piece of bagel she was scarfing down as a early dinner.
“Ginny!” she cried. “I sincerely doubt that's what he's going to ask me about.”
“You never know with my brother.” Ginny said, cooling down and stuffing a piece of paper into Hermione's purse.
“Now, let's see what we're going to do with your hair. I think I'll cast a spell to make it less wild, but then leave it down and cast a small shield spell so it will only blow behind you on the beach and won't go into your face.” Ginny mused. Then she cast the spells and got a blow drier out to see if they would work. Hermione rolled her eyes as her hair flew out from behind her neck like a model's.
“I feel airbrushed.” she complained to Ginny. “Like I'm cheating.”
Ginny held up Hermione's skirt without comment.
“I can dress myself, thank you.” Hermione said, grabbing the outfit and changing into it. She slid her shoes on and noticed that Ginny was talking to someone on her wand. Gleefully, Hermione tip-toed out of the room... a eyeliner/mascara free night was just 3 steps away..
"HERMIONE!” Ginny yelled. “Nice try. But get back here. Really.”
In a second Ginny's eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss were all working their magic on Hermione's face. Literally.
***
“This really is beautiful, Ron.” Hermione said, smiling at the scene in front of her. They were walking down the beach after a wonderful dinner, each holding a sprinkle covered ice cream cone, Hermione's shoes dangling from her fingers, her hair, as promised, only blowing behind her.
“Thanks.” Ron said, looking adorable as he modestly shoved his hands into his pockets. He finished his cone and tossed the wrapper into the garbage can, Hermione parroting him, then without even thinking about it, reaching for his hand. She took it and they kept on strolling down the beach, the waves rolling in at their feet. All of a sudden, Hermione felt the horrible urge to splash in the water. She kicked it with her toe, getting Ron in the eye. She looked up at him, about to apologize, when all of a sudden she felt water colliding with her skirt. Ron's eyes shone with mischief and the challenge of getting Hermione sopping wet.
Soon, a water war had broken out, Ron against Hermione. People walking down the beach stopped to comment on how young and in love they looked, careful not to get wet. They watched, completely un-noticed by the young couple. Finally, Ron kicked water so hard it knocked Hermione off balance. She fell onto the sand, laughing, her hair flying out under her. Ron leaned over her, laughing and checking to see if she was okay.
“I'm fine.” Hermione assured him. Then, just to get her revenge she tripped him. He fell, not onto the sand, but on top of her. Hermione was just thinking how light he was when she realized he hadn't fallen on top of her at all, but was propped up just above her, his face looming remarkably close to hers.
“I love you.” he whispered, and then he leaned down and kissed Hermione softly on the lips. The onlookers almost melted, even felt the urge to applaud. A few were gaping at Ron and Hermione as well, realizing who they were and being shocked at how well they got along. In the newspaper stories they were always talking about how Ron and Hermione were fighting. Hermione, unlike the newspapers, knew that those days were long gone.
“Hermione... I was thinking.” Ron said when they broke apart. “I've been living with my mum since the war ended... and it doesn't really suit me... so do you think maybe we could buy a flat together?” Ron asked.
“You mean you want me to help you look for a flat?” Hermione asked, confused.
“No.” Ron said. Hermione waited. “I mean... I mean I want to live with you, Hermione. Will you move in with me?”
Hermione's heart stopped. Never, in her 6 years at Hogwarts or during the horcrux hunt or while she had even been dating Ron, had she dreamed this would happen. Alright, so maybe she had thought about it, hoped for it, but in real life... and exactly but how it happened was absolutely perfect. Hermione realized that she couldn't wait for Ron to be the last thing she saw before bed at night and the first thing she saw in the morning So of course, her answer was a resounding
“Yes.” Hermione kissed Ron furiously, more passionately this time. She leaned back halfway through the kiss and whispered against his lips,
“Oh, and, by the way... I love you too.”
“Good night, Hermione. See you tomorrow.”
“G'night, Betty. See you.” Hermione said tiredly. She rubbed the bags under her eyes and trooped over to the ministry entrance, hoping Ron had done what she'd asked and made her some dinner. She was going to eat, go to bed, and get to work as fast as she possibly could tomorrow morning.
The Robinson Case was absolutely draining, there was no other word for it. With every single law and law book Hermione researched, she grew more exhausted and sick of her job. When the cases were simple, even moderately difficult, she was happy. But this case, although she was getting paid handsomely, was the hardest one yet, and was proving nearly impossible to crack. Hermione sighed to herself as she walked over to the elevators.
She was 20, and although already she was one of the most respected lawyers in the ministry, she had zero respect at home. Then again, it was Ron, so she should have seen it coming. He was always drinking, being messy, and being lazy, listening to the radio and sleeping instead of doing something that needed to be done. Hermione often got frustrated with him, but every time he got under her skin all she had to do was look into his eyes and remind herself was the fact that she loved him more then life itself and her anger usually melted. However, on nights like these, he always managed to drive her crazy. Last night, he was in 'the mood', which Hermione usually had enough patience to ignore, but on nights like these it got to her. She knew that it wasn't fair to Ron, but when she was as exhausted as she was at this very moment it would be like making love to a dummy anyway. And besides, she wanted to make their first time special. They were only 20, and although they shared a bed they'd never actually slept together. Hermione didn't want that to be just any random night. It was important to her, although she suspected Ron just really wanted to get into her pants.
Hermione flooed into her flat and threw her purse on the hall chair. She looked at herself in the mirror and examined the dark circles under her eyes. She was getting almost no sleep, between the case and trying to take care of Ron, who, most of the time, acted like a 2 year old. Hermione finished examining herself and walked into the small kitchen. She turned the switch, and light flooded into the room. There was a note on the kitchen table.
Hermione- I've gone to watch Harry's Quidditch game. Be back around 10.... or later if they win. Don't wait up. Or do. Depends on what mood I'm in when I get home. -Ron
PS: would you do my laundry?
Hermione let out a exasperated sigh. How the hell was she supposed to know what mood Ron was in? She stomped out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, locking the door shut, and hopefully locking Ron out. She turned to the switch for light. Nothing happened. Oh, dear God, not again, Ron. Hermione blindly searched the room for Ron's bedside table, found the diluminator and picked it up. She hit the switch and light flooded into the room. Hermione angrily threw the diluminator back down on the table and threw on a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Then she crawled tiredly into the bed and promptly fell asleep.
***
Hermione woke up to a loud banging on the door. She groaned, noting silently that she was waking up from the most peaceful sleep she had gotten in months. Probably because Ron wasn't there, snoring like a bloody maniac.
“Heeerrrrrrmmmmiiiioooonnnneeeeeee!” Ron's drunken voice called out. “Herrrmmmmiiiioooonnnee! They won, Herrrrrmmmiioneee! Haaaaarrry (hiccup) wonnn!”
Hermione bolted up in bed. Ron had taken to drinking beer, just to prove to his mother that he could. He trashed the house and tended to not know where to draw the line on the number of beer cans per night. It drove Hermione up the wall, and now, when she needed sleep most, he had chosen to do it again. All of a sudden, she felt overly frustrated. She felt like she couldn't stand one more second of Ron. He had been annoying her her whole life, and it was about to change. She'd thought maybe he could grow up. She was wrong. She wrenched open the door and almost lost her anger as she looked at Ron's blue eyes.
Until he puked on her carpet.
“RON!” Hermione screeched.
“Owwwwww, Hermione.” Ron giggled, clutching his head like a 3 year old. “Take it easy, darling.” he slurred.
Hermione's mind zoomed into a scene just a few years ago, just after Bill's and Fleur's wedding.
“Alright, darling?” the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. “Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!”*
Hermione drew herself up into her tallest position. She was finally going to take the drunk's advice. Or at least half of it, that is.
“Ron, get the hell out of my house, and don't you dare come back!” she said in the calmest voice she could muster. Ron looked at her in a drunken shock.
“B-But Herrrrrmmmmmiiioooonnneeee!” He wailed. “You don't reaaaaalllly mean that.”
“Wanna make a bet, Ron? GET OUT!” she shreiked, finally at her breaking point. And she slapped Ron. She slapped him as hard as she could. He moaned.
“Owww.”
Hermione bit her lip, feeling remorseful for her actions. Maybe she'd been a little too harsh. Wait a minuet. Her boyfriend shouldn't be getting drunk on almost a nightly bases. But if he just stayed sober... maybe she could stop being angry at him? Hermione stomped into the kitchen and threw every single beer can and firewhiskey bottle out the window. This was the last time she would let Ron buy a drink, because one and he was sure to need more. Problem solved.
Then she walked into the living room and saw what a mess it was. Beer cans all over (without coasters). Popcorn and pastries scattered around the room. The radio on, static and loud. And Hermione forgot about forgiveness at the sight of her favorite room in the flat trashed. She ran back over to Ron and yelled,
“Sobero!”
He immediately was sober.
“LISTEN UP, RON! YOU HAVE EXACTLY TWO HOURS TO CLEAN UP THIS ROOM AND GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I MEAN IT! IF I SEE YOU HERE, I'M GOING TO CALL THE POLICE- OR WORSE- YOUR MOTHER!”
Ron turned pale.
“Hermione... what did I do now?” he asked, clutching his head.
“THE LIVING ROOM, MY FAVORITE ROOM IN THIS FLAT, IS A TOTAL MESS, BEER CANS WITHOUT COASTERS, FOOD SCATTERED ALL OVER THE PLACE, YOU DON'T RESPECT ME OR WHAT I WANT, YOU WENT OUT TO A QUIDDITCH GAME AND GOT DRUNK WHEN YOU KNEW I HAD A HARD DAY AHEAD OF ME... AND YOU'RE A TOTAL NIGHTMARE TO LIVE WITH!” Hermione screamed. Ron looked shocked and angry, at himself or at Hermione she couldn't tell. She stomped into her room, still furious, and was about to slam the door shut when she remembered one last thing.
“ AND DO YOUR OWN BLOODY LAUNDRY!” she said, dropping into a chair and letting a few hot tears roll dejectedly down her cheeks
***
Ginny sighed exasperatedly and peered down at Ron.
“You're going to have to move sometime.” she told him. He stared stonily at the wall. Ginny glanced at Harry, who rolled his eyes.
“Ron, I'll give you bacon if you tell me what happened.” Ginny said, trying out a new strategy.
“Hermione ordered me out of the house, she told me not to come back. She named all these things I was doing wrong.”
“Okay, that worked well.” Ginny smirked.
Ron turned over in bed, frowning, oblivious to Ginny's silent conga dance.
“How come it worked out so well with you and Harry? You live together, and you're working out just fine.”
Ginny glanced over at Harry, who smiled at her. It was him who answered Ron's question first.
“I guess, Ron, it was because we were willing to fix the minor things that annoyed each other, but we didn't change ourselves. Ginny has made me a better person, and I have made her a better person as well. I think.” Harry glanced quizzically at Ginny, who gave him a reassuring smile, then added,
“I believe they call it compromise. Look it up.”
“I think I'm going to puke.” Ron told them both. “And, I don't need to look it up, Ginny, I have Herm..” but he stopped in the middle of the word and his face turned to stone again.
“I'll go get the bucket.” Harry said.
“I'll go get you that bacon.” Ginny told Ron. They exited his room, Ginny closing the door behind her. She stopped half way own the stairs.
“Harry, I don't think this is a good time to tell them we're engaged.” she told him seriously.
“I know. I agree.” said Harry.
“But... we can't keep them in the dark forever, either.” Ginny said, thinking out loud. “The wedding is in 3 months. They're the maid of honor and best man. They're going to have to dance with each other and walk down the aisle together.”
“Oh, merlin. We're going to have the world's worst wedding if they're both at it.”
There was a moments pause, during which Ginny got a very shifty look on her face.
“And that's exactly why we have to get them back together.” she said, her eyes glinting.
“Get... get them back together? Hermione hates Ron right now!” Harry said sceptically. “And they're both the most stubborn people on the planet. Neither will ever swallow their pride and admit they're wrong.”
“Harry, I don't care how long it takes, I will not have my wedding until my best friends are somewhat civil to each other. And you know how I get when I'm trying to do something.” Ginny said furiously.
“Only too well.” Harry said with a wicked grin. “What's the plan?”
“Well, I have two. One: have Hermione talk to Ron and see how miserable he is. He'll know how bad it feels to loose her now, and he'll try to get her back. Two: well... lets hope it doesn't come to that.”
“Women.” Harry muttered. “They'll do anything to have the perfect wedding.”
“Mission Impossible is a go.” Ginny said quietly. And when something was a go for Ginny Weasley...it was defiantly a go.
A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of 'The Perfect Match'. Please note that the starred section of the story was from Deathly Hallows and everything you recognise along with that belongs to JKR, not me. Please review and tell me what you think. Constructive critisism is apreciated, and be sure to check out my authors page to ask me a few questions. ~writergirl8
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.
Ron was lying down in his bed in Harry and Ginny's room, facing the wall. It was a bright blue, cheerful color, the color of his and Hermione's living room. He'd turned it to stone when he'd realized this, but he couldn't get the actual color out of his mind. It was almost as present as his girlfriend. Or was it ex girlfriend?
He didn't know what to do anymore. He'd tried to think about ways to get back together with her, but the feeling that he'd lost the only woman that was worth fighting for wasn't shakable. Every speech he made up in his mind was more and more pathetic and idiotic. He was done being strong and stable. He wanted to cry. He wanted to drown in his tears, to create a storm with them like that Zeus guy that Hermione was constantly talking/reading about. He wanted something terrible to happen to himself so Hermione would feel just as hurt as he felt now. Maybe even guilty. Maybe she would even get back together with him. She would have plenty of time to think while she cried over his unconscious body, right?
Or maybe he could do something to make her jealous? Get a date with a Quidditch star, or the secretary to the head auror that all of the single wizards were eying up? She was flirting with him quite a lot...
But as Ron thought it over, he realized he didn't want to play games like these. He'd already acted immature and obnoxious, and now was his time to prove to Hermione that he was a grown adult and could handle just as much as she did, if not more. He wanted to show her that she could lean on him and depend on him, and playing mud-slinging games was not going to do that for him. However, it was so hard to let her walk away. To let 3 amazing years walk out of his life, to let a crush since 4th year (well, he'd probably had it before, but he just hadn't realized it until Viktor-bloody-Krum came into his life and asked Hermione to the Yule Ball) leave after a huge fight. But Ron didn't know how to fight anymore. All of the fight had left him. Because he knew, he would admit, that every part of this argument was his fault. He would have to live with that every single day of his life that he wasn't with Hermione. In his head, he pictured a long, winding tunnel that was his life without Hermione. Could there be, could there possibly be a light at the end of the tunnel? Was there a chance that she could change her mind and come back to him? Ron didn't know if there was a reason to fight for her. Was he being selfish by wanting Hermione back? Or just sensible? Did she want him too?
Ron, using every bit of energy he had left, got up. He felt shaky, he hadn't left his bed since he had gotten to Harry and Ginny's house a week ago. He didn't trust himself on his feet. Scratch that, he didn't trust himself at all. Why should he trust himself? He'd ruined every good think he'd ever had in his life. Well, pretty much. He was such a bloody git. He felt very good reason to hate himself. Ron wasn't really one to hate himself. Usually he just drank until he passed out, which helped him not feel. However, Ginny had locked up all the alcohol in the house, and he now had nothing to go to. He could always feel his pain... but what was the point of that?
Remorse. It was such a powerful thing. It was what could destroy horcruxes. It had to be powerful, right? Well, it was powerful for Ron. It had taken over every fiber of his being, the pit of his stomach felt it, the tightening of his throat announced it, the wetness of his blue eyes told everyone. He hated it. Ron could have gone his whole life without feeling remorseful. It was such a evil thing. It was tearing him apart, little by little, that and his longing for Hermione. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You don't know you've got a good thing until it's gone. These sayings, especially the latter, were true. Unfortunately. He hadn't realized how wonderful Hermione had been until she wasn't his to hold and kiss. He couldn't sniff her hair, or hold her hand, or hear her laugh, or watch her lips as they launched upwards into a smile.
He took a tentative step. Hermione laughing. Another step. Hermione smiling. Another, stronger step, Hermione kissing him during the final battle. A bound to the door. Hermione agreeing to live with him. A turn of the doorknob. The image of the engagement ring he'd yet done anything with on Hermione's finger. This was not a real image, but it made him stronger none the less. He walked all the way down to the living room on that image, where Harry and Ginny were reading a book together, Ginny leaning on Harry's chest, holding the book with both of her hands, Harry's eyes on the book, his nose pressed against her hair. Ron cleared his throat, and they both looked up.
“Hi, Ron.” Ginny said tentatively.
“How're you feeling, mate?” Harry asked just as carefully.
“I need to get out.” Ron said weakly.
“Ron, don't you dare go drinking!” Ginny said angrily, leaping up.
“It's what got you in trouble with Hermione in the first place, remember?” Harry added.
Ron felt like someone had hit him in the stomach when he heard Hermione's name.
“Yeah.” he said quietly. “How could I forget.” It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Ginny looked at her brother with a concerned, almost motherly look on her face.
“Hey, you guys have been great. Do you have anything you want me to do for you?”
“No, Ron,” Ginny said in a serious voice, the concerned and pitying look never leaving her face. “You're fine. We don't need anything.”
“Please, Ginny!” Ron pleaded. “I really want to get out of the house.”
“Well, I do need some more shampoo...” Ginny said, doubting that Ron would want to do that chore.
“Brilliant.” Ron said appreciatively. It was a simple, easy chore to get him out of the house and walking around. He tried to ignore the look of confusion on Harry's face as Ginny summoned her shampoo bottle.
“Here,” she said, “just try to match the bottle, yeah?”
“Fine.” Ron said. He took the bottle, grabbed a few galleons from Ginny and left the house.
“There's a wizarding drugstore just down the street!” Ginny called after him. Ron didn't answer her as he pulled the door shut and started walking. He concentrated on his feet as he walked. Left, right, left right. After a few blocks, he found the shop. He walked into the store and headed towards the sign that said 'Shampoo'. Normally, he would just ask someone where it was instead of wasting his time reading the signs (something Hermione both loathed and found hilarious about him) , but today he didn't want to talk to anyone. He walked over to the aisle and started looking for Ginny's shampoo. He found it and grabbed it, but paused when he saw the brand next to it. He recognized it, knew it well. It was the shampoo bottle that lived in his own shower, the scent he loved. His hand shot out on practically it's own accord and he grabbed the bottle, opened the cap and sniffed.
The smell wafted up his nostrils, and a thrilled, happy feeling filled up his body. He was home. He was happy. He had never broken up with Hermione. He was smelling
her hair as he kissed her long and hard, his hand on her soft cheek, her eyelashes tickling his rough one. The feeling drained with the snap that announced the bottle's closing. Ron opened his eyes and looked up to see the manager glaring at him over her eyeglasses.
“Are you going to buy that?” she asked disdainfully, pointing at the bottle.
“Yes.” Ron said, bending down to grab Ginny's shampoo as well. He paid, then hurried out of the store and opened the bottle again, sniffing for all he was worth. All of a sudden, he really had to get to a bar.
He ran down the street and flung the door open, dropping onto his stool and lowering his bags on the floor.
“Firewhiskey, please.” he said, slamming his money on the counter. He had a little extra in his coat pocket, just enough for one drink. He downed it, then asked for another one. After downing that, another one. After about 4 drinks, the woman sitting next to him turned around on her barstool. She was grinning devilishly as she slid her tongue across her glossy red lips. Her shiny brown hair was tossed over her shoulder, her hazel eyes sparkling. They were pretty, but nothing like Hermione's chestnut colored ones.
“Hello.” the woman said, extending her hand. “I'm Alyssa”
“Ron Weasley.” Ron hiccuped.
“Bartender? Get him another drink, please.” Alyssa smiled, revealing perfect white teeth.
“Ron Weasley, eh?” she said, once Ron had downed his next firewhiskey. “The Ron Weasley?”
“One and only.” Ron laughed.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home with that girl you're dating? Juliet? Or some other Shakespearian name.”
“'Ermione.”
“Yes, Hermione, that's it.” Alyssa said disinterestedly. “What number is that?” she asked, pointing to his drink.
“4, I think.” Ron said giddily. "more or less."
“Check please.” Alyssa said. “Oh, never mind. Just put it on my tab, will you, Matt?”
The bartender nodded.
“Great.” Alyssa said, flashing him a winning smile. She grabbed Ron and led him out of the bar.
“Where do you live, Ron Weasley?” Alyssa asked.
“With 'Ermione.”
“Brilliant.” Alyssa sounded sarcastic, but Ron didn't notice it as he went on.
“But we broke up.” Ron said, downcast, as if he had just remembered. Alyssa's eyes brightened.
“Oh no, you poor thing!” she stuck out her bottom lip and put her hand on Ron's shoulder. “Are you staying with Harry Potter, then?”
“Yeah.” Ron hiccuped again. With a sudden crack, he'd apparated them to Harry and Ginny's small house.
Alyssa looked shocked at first, then seemed to collect herself. She straitened up and led Ron into the house.
Ginny rushed out of the living room.
“Ron! What took you so lo-”
“Hello.” Alyssa smiled pleasantly and handed a bag to Ginny. “I believe this must be for you.”
Ginny took the bag without bothering to check to see what was inside of it.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Alyssa Jefferson.” Alyssa said, extending her hand to Ginny. Ginny didn't take it. She eyed Alyssa's V-Neck sweater, dark wash jeans and high heeled leather boots wearily and said,
“Where did you find him?”
“At the local bar. I was there with a friend and he sat next to me. Poor thing, downed merlin knows how many firewhiskeys.”
“Ron.” Ginny whispered, not trusting herself to speak. She was practically shaking with anger and frustration.
“Ginny, what happened?” Harry walked out of the living room, saw Alyssa and stopped talking.
“I'll let you two chat.” Alyssa said, giving Ginny a understanding and pitying smile. “Let me just bring him upstairs.”
“3rd door to the left.” Harry said blankly.
Alyssa led Ron upstairs and set him on the bed in a sitting position.
“Sobero!” she said, and Ron immediately became sober. “Clearify!” Alyssa said again, and the headache went away at once.
“Thanks.” Ron mumbled. He looked up. “Who're you?”
“Alyssa Jefferson.” Alyssa said. “Could I use your bathroom?”
Ron pointed to the room connected to his bedroom and watched as Alyssa hurried over to it and closed the door. Then he fell back against his bed and put his hand on his head. What had he done? He remembered Hermione shampoo... then going to the bar... Hermione's shampoo. Ginny had it in her bag. Ron got up and made to open the door but all of a sudden found he couldn't move. Alyssa's voice from the door frame of the bathroom said
“Oh, no. You're not going anywhere.”
And then his body had been forced against the wall opposite to the door. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. He could see Alyssa moving towards him in a silk black robe that was open to reveal a tan and black practically see through bra and underwear set. She walked slowly towards him and took off the robe, then started to kiss him. All of a sudden, the door flew open. Ron felt a familiar jerk in his stomach as he saw who was there. Hermione was standing in the door frame, a look of horrified, mortified shock on her face.
A/N: I got this idea in the middle of the Ocean and had to go all the way home to write it. So far I have around 16 chapters written, so stay tuned. If you have any questions check out my author's page. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but the chapter got too long and I decided to cut it here. I also want to thank 'A Fine Frenzy' for writing the song 'Ashes and Wine'. I listened to it 2 million times while writing this chapter, and I think it was also slightly inspired by it. Please, please, please review! They make me so happy :) ~writergirl8
She stood there, breathing hard for a few seconds, then shook her head slowly and backed out of the room, looking as though she was fighting back tears. Ron tried to yell to her, to tell her to come back, to tell her that her still loved her and this was all a horrible, terrible mistake, but found that, although his lips could work, his vocal chords couldn't. Just as the door was almost all the way shut, it flew open again. Alyssa stepped back, as Hermione stomped over to Ron and slapped him, hard, across the face. This time, he knew she wasn't sorry
***
“There's a girl up there in her underthings, and he's kissing her, Ginny!” Hermione gasped through her tears, stumbling down the stairs.
“What?!” Ginny shrieked, while Harry looked revolted. “No, Hermione, he wouldn't! He's been pining for you for the last week... how could he? He couldn't, you're wrong! Look, he even got your shampoo!” she pulled the bottle out of the bag, but Hermione knocked it out of her hand as she ran to the fireplace to leave.
“Oh, I am going to kill him.” Ginny said as she ran upstairs.
***
Hermione was crying, her faced pressed against the window. She felt hurt, more hurt then she ever had in her life. If she thought Lavender was bad, it had nothing on this.
She hadn't know if the fate of their relationship was sealed. She'd figured that maybe she'd made a mistake, maybe Ron could change. He loved her, she loved him, they could get through this. This day was out of control. She couldn't handle it. Her head was spinning as the picture of Ron kissing the girl flew through her mind over and over again. She was ill with the thought of his kiss, his wonderful kiss, and that overwhelmed her senses every time it was bestowed on her lips, the kiss that was now placed on another girl's lips.
“Shut it out, Hermione.” Hermione whispered. “He's not yours anymore. You have no claim on him. He has every right to kiss her. You can't wear his freedom down. You made this decision in the first place.”
Of course, she hadn't been thinking about how it would feel when he was with another girl, but still. He had his freedom. There was nothing she could do about it.
***
“Ginny, have you seen Hermione yet?” Harry asked through the darkness a few days later, lying in bed with Ginny.
“Yes, I have. She's right pissed. I have to admit, getting together with someone so soon after a breakup of a three year relationship is pretty low. Ron doesn't realize how stupid that was.”
“I guess.” Harry muttered, not fully understanding the qualifications of breaking up. “So what's your plan?” he asked a little louder.
“We are going to put Hermione and Ron on a game show called 'The Perfect Match'. We are going to fill out their pamphlets for them so they are picked for each other and they are going to go on dates and fall right back in love- right in time for our wedding.” Ginny recited, smiling smugly at her brilliant plan.
Harry sighed.
“And I thought killing Voldemort was the hardest thing I'd ever do.”
“But it was the smartest.” Ginny supplied.
“No.” Harry said. “The smartest thing I ever did was fall in love with you.”
Ginny gave him a kiss.
“I stand corrected, then.” she grinned.
***
“Hermione, this is so stupid. Just forgive him! Please!” Ginny said urgently, trying to talk to Hermione one more time before she had to be accused of ruined her life by putting her on a game show.
“I can not and will not forgive Ro... your brother.”
“Oh my GOD Hermione, you won't even say his name! You're handling this in the most immature way possible.” Ginny shouted, beside herself.
“I bet he doesn't even miss me.” Hermione said quietly.
“Yes, he does! I told you! He's been pining over you forever.” Ginny hissed. Hermione hesitated for a moment. Then she turned her back to Ginny and said,
“I hate him anyway.”
“Truly? You really and truly hate him?” Ginny said quietly.
“Yes.”
“And there's no chance of getting you to fall back in love with him?”
“Not a one.”
“You guys are perfect for each other, Hermione!”
“WELL THEN PROVE IT, GINEVRA WEASLEY!” Hermione yelled.
“Fine.” Ginny said smugly. “I will.” Then, “By the way, you're going to have to be civil to him at my wedding.”
“Fine then... wait, what?”
“Harry proposed, and I said yes.” Ginny announced excitedly. But instead of being thrilled beyond all belief, Hermione looked furious.
“What? No! Ginny! You're 19! You can NOT get married.” Hermione cried.
A frustrated tear leaked out of Ginny's eyes.
“Fine.” She said angrily. “Be that way. You're still the maid of honor... when you stop acting like a total bitch. And I'll be 20 by the time of the wedding, by the way.” Ginny added before popping out of the apartment. And Hermione realized with as she fell to her knees that she had just lost another person that she loved.
***
Ginny marched into the offices of 'The Perfect Match'. She strode confidently up to the desk, cutting everyone in line and pulling Harry right behind her.
“I'm registering two people for the game show.” she said. “I'm trying to prove to them that they're the perfect match. Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Bilius Weasley.”
“Right.” The wizard said. “You think you can just walk up to this desk and announce that...”
Ginny pushed back Harry's hair, revealing his scar. The attendant gasped in shock and immediately shuffled through papers.
“Just have them fill out these forms and then turn them in by next week. You're a little late for sign-ups but we may be able to fit you in and push one of the current couples to next season..”
“Thank you.” Ginny said, taking the paper and walking to the corner of the room to sit in a chair.
“Ginny!” Harry said angrily.
“Hmmm?” Ginny asked.
“You played the Harry Potter card!”
“Your point being...”
“Ginny, you know I don't like to play the Harry Potter card.”
Ginny turned to face her fiancée.
“But Harry, you are Harry Potter. You're going to have to face that. You are and will be Harry James Potter for the rest of your life.” she said gently.
“Yeah, but I don't want to live in the limelight!” Harry hissed.
“I'm JUST trying to get Ron and Hermione back together!” Ginny cried. “Come on, Harry, have a little spirit. I'm sorry I played the card but it's taken them so long to get to where they were and now they've totally ruined it. Do you want to wait 10 more years for them to get back to where they were when they broke up?”
“No.” Harry admitted.
“They really need our help, Harry.” Ginny said softly.
“Fine.” Harry grumped after a moment.
“Thank you.” Ginny said, giving him a small kiss. “Now, this is Ron's registration form. I want you to fill it out and copy my exact answers.”
“Er- Ginny,” Harry said a few moments later. “Ron's favorite pastime isn't to read books... and I'm pretty sure Hermione doesn't care about the Chudley Cannons.”
“Look, Harry, the show is called the perfect match. I'm setting them up to be matched, and I'm trying to balance it out so that Ron will get some things he likes to do and Hermione gets some things she likes to do... Ron and Hermione are total opposites so filling out the right answer won't do anything for them. If they are matched, however, they'll have to go on romantic, expensive dates and spend time with each other on and off camera. The show loves a happy ending, they'll do anything. Last thing: under advisor write Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Okay?”
“I guess.” Harry said, not liking the fact that he was putting his name on the paper.
Then, once again Ginny marched up to the desk, cutting everyone in line, and handed the clerk her papers.
“Come on. Lets go get dinner somewhere.” Ginny said.
“Cleary's?” Harry asked grinning.
“We'll never be able to get in.” Ginny huffed.
Harry discreetly lifted his hair up, showing his scar.
“OMIGOD!” cried a girl with a Harry Potter Tattoo.
“Are you HARRY POTTER?” asked another wearing all pink
“I LOVE YOU!” exclaimed another wearing almost nothing at all.
“HARRY!” screamed a sobbing teenage girl
“OMIGOD!” cried another girl with a I Love Potter tee-shirt on.
“You filthy hypocrite.” Ginny said in shock.
Harry smirked a smirk worthy of Draco Malfoy himself.
***
Hermione was disappointed. Even in her time of need, Ginny wasn't home every second of the day to have a cry fest with. She guessed, in Ginny's defense, Ginny had no reason to be having cry fests. She had no need to eat box after box of triple chocolate ice cream and then rip it up when she was done. She was blissfully in love. She was happy. She didn't need Hermione raining on her parade, or being a wet blanket. She had Harry. She was blissfully in love, just as in love as Hermione had been a few weeks ago. Or was it days ago? She couldn't keep track of time anymore. The point was, Hermione was not in love anymore. She hoped.
She sighed and walked over to her bedroom. Just as she was about to open the door, she heard a movement from inside of the room. Oh, merlin. She'd left the house to go talk to Ginny for 10 minutes and a burglar had come? It had to be now, when she was feeling so terrible. Her magic, unfortunately, was suffering from it.
“Calm down, Hermione.” Hermione told herself in her most quiet voice. “You fought death eaters, and you destroyed Horcruxes. There's no need to be afraid of a common burglar.”
With that, she kicked the door open. The lights were off.
“Lumos!” she muttered, and a light appeared at the tip of her wand.
There was Ron, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Hermione felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach at the sight of his face. He was standing over the nightstand that used to be his with his diluminator in one hand and his wand in the other. He slowly raised his hands into the air and gave Hermione a hopeful half smile. This time, however, it had no effect. If Ron had been expecting Hermione to sigh, lower her wand and say 'Oh, it's just you', he was terribly wrong. Instead, she raised it higher and her mouth became a thin line. When she spoke, her voice was so thin Ron felt as though he could have broken it apart with a slash of his wand.
“What are you doing here.” Hermione asked, her eyes hard. She didn't say it as a question, it was more a statement that Ron was meant to reply to.
“I came to collect my things and drop some stuff of that I won't be needing anymore.”
“How did you get in?” Hermione asked.
“I still have my key.” Ron said helpfully dropping his wand and raising his key in the air. Hermione lowered her wand and Ron clicked the lights on.
“Drop the key. Take what you need. Get out. Don't come back.” Hermione said. Ron dropped the key on the nightstand, grabbed a trash bag full of his clothes, and left the room. He didn't look back once to see Hermione crumple into a exhausted heap on the floor and start crying harder then she had in days.
A/N: I know, I suck, there's not a lot of Ron or Hermione in the story right now. But Harry and Ginny are really crucial to the storyline. Well, they find out about the game show next chappy, so stay tuned! And PLEASE review!
“YOU DID WHAT!” Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Seeing as you hate my brother so much, I decided to sign you up for a game show called the perfect match.” Ginny said again.
“Oh my god, Ginny, how could you! I can't go onto a game show... it's against every single one of my principles!”
“Hermione, if you are going to get married and get me nieces and nephews before I'm 81 then you'll need to be getting the perfect match about NOW!” Ginny said. “And if you're stuck on my brother, that isn't going to happen.”
Hermione, as panicked as she was, completely failed to realize that if she gave Ginny nieces and nephews it would have to be with Ron because Hermione was in no way related to Ginny. She also failed to note that Ginny had plenty of opportunities to have nieces and nephews, as she came from an abnormally large family. However, Hermione, so caught up in the thought of going on a game show (oh, the horrors!) did not notice these facts, making Ginny immensely relieved and able to move on.
“I'm not going on a game show.” Hermione said. “That is that.”
“Okay... listen Hermione. At the end of the game if you haven't fallen in love with Ron again, I won't get married at just-barely-20 years old.” Ginny said craftily.
“Wha... fine. It's a deal.” Hermione said. “Wait- I thought the wedding was planned for before the end of the show?”
“Hermione just let me get married to the man I love for merlin's sake! I'm overage and I can make my own decisions!” Ginny roared.
“Fine.” Hermione said. “But I will not go on the game show.”
“Hermione... I swear I will do anything just please do the game show! You're already in!” Ginny pleaded.
Hermione took one look at Ginny's face and told her,
“No.”
***
“MERLIN'S PANTS!” Ron bellowed as soon as Harry told him the news. Harry nearly fell down at the yell.
“Harry, I don't have time for this. I need to win Hermione back! Don't you get it?”
“Yes, er, here's the thing. Ginny and I kind of fixed the results. You and Hermione are the perfect match because of our answers so you'll have to go on dates with Hermione.”
“Oh god.” Ron said, turning pale.
“You'll also be sort of a special edition of the show because usually the people don't know each other before-hand.”
“Merlin. Harry, I can't date Hermione on a game show!” Ron said, growing more panicked by the second.
“Why not?” Harry asked defensively.
“Because... because then everything I say and do will be on camera. It will be mortifying!” Ron exclaimed. “What if I say something wrong... what if there's spinach in my teeth! What if I kiss Hermione and it looks all sloppy?!”
“On the off-chance Hermione will actually let you near enough to her to kiss her, I think the cameras can neaten it up a bit.” Harry said helpfully.
Ron sat on the bed, put his head in his hands and groaned.
“Everybody is going to know who I am!”
“Everyone already knows who you are. Remember, you're apart of the Golden Trio!” Harry said sarcastically, a smile playing at his lips.
“Don't remind me.” Ron said warningly. Harry patted him on the back.
“It'll be okay. Hey, there're worse things in life, mate.”
“Like what.” Ron asked, deadpan.
“Like the fact that Ginny and I are getting married a week after her 20th birthday.” Harry said. Ron looked up at him, shocked, then said,
“Merlin help me. This must be a really bad dream. And when I wake up I'll still be together with Hermione, I'll have never heard of a game show called 'The Perfect Match', and you and Ginny will be broken up and far, far away from each other.”
And just to prove his point, Ron grabbed a sturdy looking vase and banged it over his head, promptly knocking himself out.
“I'll take that as a yes.” Harry said, grinning and rushing out of the room to go tell Ginny.
***
Hermione walked confidently into the corner store, the one where she did all her shopping. Despite the name 'The Corner Store', it was actually a rather large store, but in a discreet location so only the locals could find it. The cashiers knew every single person that walked into the store, and vise versa. Meaning they knew both Hermione and Ron, but had yet to find out they were broken up. Which was why Hermione had literally been living on bread and water for the last 3 days. She had been putting off going to the store for so long she had absolutely run out of food, and she was stuck with the bare essentials. But now, she couldn't hold off any longer. So, making her first public outing as a single woman would have to be to the store, and Hermione was determined to make a good impression.
“Hello, Hermione!” smiled Riley, the manager of the store, who had always had a crush on her. Now that she was single, Hermione found herself thinking the Riley was sort of cute in a nerdy sort of way. But he was nothing compared to Ron.
No, No! NO! Hermione couldn't compare every man she saw to Ron! Sure, Ron had been the perfect man after the war, but he had changed. He wasn't the same Ron anymore and they weren't together. Hermione was moving on, whether she wanted to or not.
After she smiled flirtatiously at Riley, Hermione walked over to the refrigerator section, thinking that maybe she should find a man that was almost the exact opposite of Ron instead of someone like him. Maybe it was best to completely clear him from her system. But then... she'd never really found herself attracted to any man quite the way she was attracted to Ron. Sure, she thought they might have good looks, sure she sort of liked Victor Krum, but when it all came down to it, she really never loved anybody as much (or as long) as she loved Ron. So should she find someone just like him? It struck Hermione then that Ron was one-of-a-kind and she probably couldn't find him anywhere else, causing her to reach into the store's fridge and pull out a box of triple chocolate ice cream.
“Triple chocolate ice cream. You only eat that when you're upset.” Hermione closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, then, remembering her charade of a happy, confident woman, started striding down the isle.
“For example,” Ron continued, “You ate 2 cartons when you were too sick to take your lawyers test, and you'd have to take the rain date.”
“Did I?” Hermione said airily. “I don't remember.”
“I do.” Ron said. “You ate 4 cartons and dipped each spoonful in your Nana's special fudge sauce when she died. You tried to watch old re-runs of 'Friends', but they were making you laugh instead of cry so you switched to 'The Notebook' and 'Moulin Rouge', during which you both laughed and cried. I came into our room and I held you during the sad parts. When it was over I asked you why you were watching muggle movies and you said 'Because sometimes, even though your future is full speed ahead, you need some things from your past to keep your feet on the ground and keep you sane, otherwise what is the point of the past or present?'”
Hermione had to stop listening to him; if she kept on she was going to cry, or worse, get back together with him.
“I don't have time for you, Weasley.” she stated coldly, pushing her cart into the produce section.
Ron drew in a sharp intake of breath at the sound of her saying his surname.
“Funny. I have all the time in the world for you.” he said, recovering.
“My mother warned me about men like you.” Hermione said, bending over and inspecting a apple. She drew up, looking Ron strait in the eye, being careful to melt on the inside and instead of the outside. “I just didn't listen.”
“And see where it got us.” Ron said, thinking of the happy, blissful times when they had been so in love and happy.
“Hmmm. It caused you to trash my home and cheat on me with some woman I don't even know.”
“No. The one time you didn't listen caused us 3 years of love and our perfect life.” Ron said, not bothering to tell her that they hadn't actually been together when the kissing incident happened.
“Perfection is overrated.” Hermione stated blandly.
“Hermione, why don't you get it? No one can or will ever know you as well as I do.”
“You don't know me at all.” Hermione told Ron. “If you did know me we wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place.” she grabbed a box of Wiz-O's and inspected the number of calories.
“You have a heart shaped scar on the side of your neck, almost invisible, from the time you cut your skin open with a cookie-cutter while making sugar cookies un supervised when you were 6 years old.”
“How do you know about that?” Hermione breathed.
“Because I used to kiss you there. It is your favorite place to be kissed, drives you crazy.”
“So what if you do know me!” Hermione screamed suddenly. Her hair seemed to be standing up on end as she whirled around to face Ron. “So what if you do know me?” she repeated. “So what if you loved me better then anyone has ever loved me in my whole life. You hurt me, Ron! You hurt me badly and I don't know if I can ever be repaired. I loved you. I was willing to give my life for you, and look how well you re payed me! You took to drinking just to prove to your mum that you could! You took to trashing our flat just to prove to everyone that you were a big boy. Well, yippee, good for you! But NOT in my flat! Not on my heart anymore. I'm DONE with guys like you. I am going to move on and I am going to be happy. I am going to completely forget that some stupid boy named Ronald Weasley was ever in my life. And if I can't forget, if I can't forget, maybe I'll keep it near to me so I won't make the same damn mistake again. I don't know. But what I do know is that you are just a minor speed bump in my life. I've found a different highway to drive on, Ron. Sorry. And now, I am going off in the world to look for a man, not a boy, to love me and marry me and father my children. I am going to find the perfect match. And, hey, maybe I'll never find anyone that I love as much as I loved you, operative word being loved, by the way. But you know what, I'll try damn hard. I will move on. I will forget you. And I really hope that you'll be happy proving to everyone that you're much more grown up then you ever were instead of focusing on having a relationship with someone who really, really, loved you.” Hermione said the last bit in a fit of tears. She turned her cart around and had just given in a extra hard push when she heard Ron's voice again.
“I HAVEN'T PICKED UP A DRINK SINCE YOU LEFT ME, HERMIONE GRANGER!” he bellowed. Hermione let out a manic laugh. She turned around, throwing her hands up in the air in a surrendering position.
“GOOD for you, Ron! Good for you!” then she left the store. Outside, her hands shaking, she took out her wand and called Ginny on it.
“Hello?” Ginny said.
“I'm in.” Hermione said, her anger still trapped in her voice. “I'll do the show.”
A/N: I love this chapter, it was one of my favorite chapters to write, one of the ones I'm most proud of, and one of my favorites I've written so far to read, just because of that one scene. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and, since it's my birthday, can you please review and tell me what you think? They make my week, day, month... so thanks in advance. ~writergirl8
Lying in a bed doing nothing was not good for Ron's nerves. He wanted to get up, to do things. He was so sick of being stuck here.
“You won't be stuck here for long.” he told himself. “You're free soon. You'll go on a game show, and everything will be back to normal.”
In truth, though, Ron didn't much fancy the idea of going on a game show. He didn't want to expose his love life to the whole world; what if he messed up? Well, it was a given that he would mess up. He was terrible at doing anything right. Maybe this game show was a bad idea. There wasn't even a guarantee that Hermione would fall for him in the end.
Ron stood up. He knew what he needed to do. He had to go to Hermione, to get her to get back together with him so they wouldn't have to suffer on the bloody game show. He walked out the door of his room and nearly stumbled upon Ginny, who was cleaning the hallway. Or, rather, her wand was. It seemed as though all the dirt and grime and dust had ridden out of the carpet and was suspended in mid air.
“Hi, Ron!” Ginny shouted cheerfully over the music as she flicked her wand and the dirt, dust and grime flew out of the window.
Ron shook his head at his sister's cleaning trick and started to walk down the stairs. He stopped suddenly. He knew this song.
“though I know I don't possess you, so go away god bless you. You are still my love and my life. Still my one and only.”
And he turned around and slowly walked up the stairs back to his room, remembering.
***
Hermione was pacing in her dressing room, wondering who was in the other one just on the other end of the hall. She was wearing a brown and yellow semi-fancy dress and her hair was twisted into a smooth knot on the top of her head. For once in her life she hadn't kicked and screamed while her make-up was applied, and she actually felt sort of... pretty.
She imagined walking out onto the set of 'The Perfect Match' in all her glory, setting eyes on a tall, dark and handsome man who had really great dimples. Although Ron- or That Bastard, as Hermione referred to him these days- did not have any dimples, she had always been a sucker for them. She remembered her first attempt at flirting when she was just 11. She was passing a boy on a fairground with her friend... oh, what was her name? Rose, wasn't it? Yes, she was passing a boy on a fairground with her friend Rose when all of a sudden she noticed he had nice dimples. She had told him so unblushingly, and he'd grinned at her, but nothing more then that. And Hermione, at 11 years old, had been totally okay with that.
Rose. Hermione hadn't seen her in a long time. They had been best friends until Hermione had gone to Hogwarts. Hermione remembered not being able to bear the thought of keeping such a big secret about her life from her best friend, so she'd just slowly broken off the friendship, drifting away until she vinished altogether. She'd spent more time in the Burrow, in the wizarding world, and less time writing to her best friend. All of a sudden, Hermione felt ashamed of herself. If Rose were here right now, Hermione knew that they would be giggling about the latest episode of their favorite show or talking excitedly about Hermione's new perfect match. They would be planning out their life together, from the old fashioned wedding, Hermione wearing the elegant white gown that her mother had worn, and the beautiful bouquet of orchids, to the three gorgeous children they would have together, with the father's hair and Hermione's eyes (or maybe, perhaps, Hermione's hair and the father's eyes), to the extravagant mansion they would call home, with granite counter tops and millions of rooms, and the worlds highest ceiling.
Now that Hermione thought about it, she would much rather live in a small, cozy house like the burrow, except smaller. Hermione didn't want mountains of kids, she and Ron both agreed two or three would be best. A girl and a boy, and maybe a cat and some owls as pets. But- wait. What if Hermione's perfect match didn't want 3 kids? What if he only wanted 1! What if he wanted 5! What if he didn't want any!?
“Ms. Granger. You're on in 10.” a burly security guard said, poking his head into the room.
“Thank you, sir.” Hermione said.
“You don't have to call me sir. You can call me Ben.”
“Thanks, Ben. Then, by all means, call me Hermione.”
“Will do.” Ben said, grinning. Then he backed out of the room, only to be followed in by Ginny.
“Hiii! Ooooooohhhh, I can't believe we're here! Can you believe it- a bunch of girls asked me for my autograph when I came in!” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Will you stop acting like a 12 year old and come help me with my lip gloss?” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“Right. Are you ready to go knock some sweet redheaded guy's socks off?” Ginny asked, as this was always what she said before Hermione went on dates with Ron.
“Ginny, I'm not going out with Ron, in case you've forgotten. We're broken up. Thank god.” Hermione added the last bit, to Ginny's disappointment, not like she was trying to convince herself, but like she honestly was thankful.
“Right.” Ginny said again, recovering. Then she grabbed Hermione's hand and led her out of the room. “Oh, shoot, you're late. C'mon, Hermione, get on top of the platform.”
The last thing Hermione saw before the curtains opened was Ginny looked apprehensive, excited, and afraid for her life. However, she shrugged it off, put on a stage smile, and walked confidently out onto the set.
The set of the perfect match was three cream colored armchairs and a screen in the background stating
'The Perfect Match' in varying colors. When Hermione came out, it blared a soft pink. She knew when her match was introduced, it would be blue. All of a sudden, the other curtain opened on the other side of the stage. And behind that curtain was none other then Ronald Weasley.
***
Ron stood behind the curtain, waiting nervously to be introduced and listening to Colin Love, the ironic name of the host of the perfect match.
“Welcome, everybody, to The Perfect Match! (burst of applause during which Ron considered running away). Thank you, thank you. This season on The Perfect Match we have decided to do something slightly different. The Perfect Match for The Perfect Match have known each other before, in fact, they've gone out together before. They were blissfully in love and living together until a huge fight broke them apart. They are, as well, semi famous. I'm sure you've all heard of HERMIONE GRANGER!”
Ron could see the outline of the curtain open to expose a calm, cool, and collected Hermione who strode over to Colin. He kissed her hand, winked at the audience, then said.
“And now, her ex lover, RONALD WEASLEY!” the curtain opened to reveal Ron. The girls in the audience screamed, but Ron only had eyes for Hermione. She looked shocked, betrayed, and horrified, although even if you knew her you could never tell. Unless, that is, you had been living with her and going out with her and falling for her nearly all your life.
All of a sudden, she smiled gracefully, mysteriously, and Ron knew, dangerously. When Hermione Granger was angry, she yelled, screamed, punched. But when she was seething angry, she became a maniac, polite and extremely dangerous.
“Hello, Ron.” she said in a deadly calm voice. “And I suppose you have something to do with this? Oh, or wait, I think I know.” Hermione let out a airy laugh. “This was all the brilliant soon-to-be-wife of Harry Potter's idea, wasn't it?” Hermione said, still smiling. The audience buzzed excitedly: this was the first they'd heard of Harry Potter getting married.
“Er- Hermione do you have anything to say to Ron before you start the dating process?” a flustered Colin asked.
“Yes, actually, I do.” Hermione said, walking gracefully over to the microphone in high heels that made her legs look strong and sexy. Hermione took the microphone from Colin and said,
“To Ginevra Molly Weasley almost-Potter: I am going to kill you. To Ronald Bilius Weasley: Go to hell.” Then she smiled sincerely, handed the microphone back to a bewildered Colin and said
“Let the games begin.”
Ron had never been so turned on in his life.
A/N: Hello, dear readers. How are you all today? I'm brilliant, because I just found my flash drive and can now write again! Yipppeeee! Bit of a filler chapter, I know, but the next one will be up soon so I hope it's okay. Credit for that line in italics goes to ABBA. The song is called 'My Love, My Life'. Believe me, it's not totally random. You'll find out more later, promise. As usual, please review, and if you have anything you want to ask me feel free to do so on my meet the author's topic! ~writergirl8
“R-right.” Colin said, regaining his composure. Hermione could feel her heart beating madly in her chest as she attempted to calm down. “The first episode of this season is not a date. No. It is a challenge. We will have one at the beginning and end of the show and see how much you learn about each other. Ron, Hermione, You will each swallow verutsium and I will ask you questions about each other. Ron will answer first, then Hermione. If the answer to the question about you is right, then you will raise your wand and make it emit green sparks. If it is incorrect, make them red.” Colin said into the camera, glancing back at the contestants every once in a while so that they knew he was talking to them. Colin Love did hate to have to repeat himself. He turned back to the two contestants, who were glaring at each other. “Ron, Hermione, please sit.”
Hermione and Ron took couches on exact opposites, much to Ron's displeasure. He wanted to grab Hermione, to kiss her, to feel her body pressed up against his and hear her voice whispering in his ear. Colin handed each a glass of verutsium, and they reluctantly drank them.
“Remember, audience, the potion won't make Ron or Hermione know things that they didn't know before. They will have the same answer they would have chosen without the potion, it's just to make sure they say the proper answer instead of making them up or trying to make the other fail on purpose. Righty then. Question number one: Ron, what is Hermione's favorite book?”
“Hogwarts, A History.” Ron said without even having to think about it.
“Hermione?”
Hermione did what she always did. She took time and logic to figure out the answer even though she knew it by heart. She couldn't have lied with the potion anyway. When she had her answer, she said it slowly, choosing her words carefully so she wouldn't say the wrong thing in front of millions of people.
“Well, Ron never really liked reading so I'm going to have to say Flying With The Cannons, because it's the only book I've ever seen him read at will.”
“Results?” Colin asked. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, confused. Hermione turned away angrily when she realized what she'd been doing. Ron whipped his head around, refusing to look at her, either. If she was going to act this way, so would he.
“Red or Green sparks.” Colin hissed exasperatedly in a totally different voice then his stage voice. Ron and Hermione's expressions cleared and both shot green sparks into the air.
“One point each.” Colin told the camera, going back to his cheery stage voice for the audience. “Next question. What are your favorite comfort foods?”
“Hermione likes triple chocolate ice cream.” Ron said without missing a beat.
“Ron likes alcohol, all kinds of it, everything from beer to firewhisky” Hermione said in a bitter, annoyed and slightly ironic tone. She shot a glare at her ex boyfriend, her first love, and the man she now hated.
“Results?” Colin asked again.
Hermione reluctantly shot a green spark into the air. Ron wanted to put red up, but the potion wouldn't let him. With a sigh, he realized that Hermione was right. He did go to alcohol when he needed comfort. Usually, though, it made him more lost then before, but at least he was happy for a few hours, until he woke up the next day with a pounding head-ache.
“Two points.” Colin told the audience. “The 3rd question is: does the other snore at night?”
“Like a chipmunk!” Hermione blurted to her embarrassment. Well, she was already here, she might as well continue. “He snores all night every night, loudly and obnoxiously, it's nearly impossible to sleep!”
“She doesn't snore.” Ron said reluctantly. If he hadn't had the potion for this question, he would have embarrassed Hermione so every man in the wizarding world would hear that she snored and Ron would be the only man on the planet who wanted to be with her. Well, that was the idea.
“You snore enough for both of us.” Hermione shot at Ron, her eyes burning holes in her head.
From the wings, Ginny nodded fervently at Hermione's words, then saw the glare on her best friend's and brother's faces.
“Harry, I think we'd better go. Hermione's going to kill us if we're here when she comes off stage.”
“Us!?” Harry said, panic rising in his voice as he watched the insult match progress. “Ginny, this was your idea in the first place! I shouldn't be murdered!”
“I know it was my idea, and it was a damn good one, even if Hermione doesn't realize yet. And besides, if I'm going down I'm taking you with me.”
“Fine, let's go. We can listen to it on the wireless when we get home.” Harry said reluctantly. There was a crack announcing their departure just as Colin said.
“NEXT QUESTION: does Hermione have a celebrity crush, Ron? How about Ron, Hermione?”
“Hermione loved Stephan Vet.” Ron said maliciously. “Her eyes mist over every time she sees him, and she used to kiss a poster of him goodnight.”
“Is this true, Hermione?” Colin asked gleefully, and Hermione nodded slowly.
“Ron had dreams of snogging the bar maid at The Three Broomsticks!” Hermione said just as maliciously. “Harry told me he would call her name in his sleep, and whenever we went to Hogsmead he always insisted on going there so he could attempt to flirt with her. Too bad she's old enough to be his grandmother.”
“HEY!” Ron yelled. “YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT ON TV!”
“WANT TO MAKE A BET, RONALD? YOU JUST DID IT TO ME!”
“NEXT QUESTION! Next question, uh, does Hermione have any scars, Ron? If so, where and how did she get them?”
So Ron told everyone on TV about Hermione's cookie cutter scar and how it was her favorite place to be kissed. He also named the places where she had scars from being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Or at least, most of them.
“Ron has many scars from the battle at Hogwarts, but the biggest one is across his jaw. You can't really see it, though. It's the longest, but it's pretty faded because I put a spell on it when Ron couldn't stand it any longer.” Hermione said when it was her turn. The potion was making her blunt and right to the point.
Hermione remembered the day she had made the scar almost go away. It had been soon after the final battle, and one of her and Ron's first dates.
Hermione pulled the door to the burrow open. She felt happy, light, airy, and not the angry kind of light and airy she got when she was furious, the kind she felt when she was downright happy, and no one could shake it. She'd only experienced the feeling a few times in her life, the majority of them having to do with Ron (then again, the majority of the opposite had to do with Ron as well). Right now was one of those times. Ron was taking her on their first date, and she was more then ready. She had been waiting for this moment for years, and now, 2 months after the final battle, they were both ready for it. There had been time to grieve, two months strait of it, but now was the time to celebrate.
Lord Voldemort was dead, gone forever, and because of that, everyone in the wizarding world was safe. Hermione hadn't been this relaxed since her first year at Hogwarts, when she had befriended Harry Potter and her whole life had turned upside down. Because, along with Harry came adventure. Along with Harry came fear, worry, trouble. Along with Harry came laughter. And along with Harry came Ron. Along with Harry came a red-headed boy who might possibly be the love of her life. And Hermione was going to go see him (the love of her life, that is, not Harry) at this very moment.
First, she hugged Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was like her second mum, after her real mum, whom she had removed the memory charm from 3 weeks ago. Hermione had been spending long hours with her parents, who had been angry at first, but then had made her tell them everything, and slowly, they were beginning to forgive and trust their daughter. She hadn't told them about her kiss with Ron yet, or that they were together, although she had told them everything they needed to know about him during the trip. However, Hermione had decided to keep the 'Oh, by the way, I'm totally and completely in love with a guy I've been crushing on since first year and whom finally loves me back' talk to a bare minimum. As much as she loved to talk about Ron, this was her and her parents' time together, and even Ron Weasley couldn't ruin that.
“Hello, dear. Are you here to see Ron? You must be. Ginny's out with Harry and George is at the shop with Arthur.”
“How's George doing?” Hermione asked, grabbing a tomato and cutting it for the other woman.
“He's coming along.” Mrs. Weasley said tiredly. “It's a big step for him to go to the shop, as you must know.”
“I do. It took a lot of courage for me to go find my parents.” Hermione admitted. “I knew they would be angry that I stole a year of their lives away from them, even if it was for their own safety, as well as mine and Harry's.”
“But you did it in the end, didn't you dear, and look how well that's turned out.”
Mrs. Weasley turned around to face Hermione.
“My, you look nice. Stop chopping that tomato, you'll ruin your shirt. Ron's in his room, go on up.” Mrs. Weasley ordered. Hermione kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs.
Ron, as promised, was standing in front of the mirror in his room, wrinkling his nose at his reflection. Hermione grinned at the familiar features and the unintentionally adorable look on his face, then leaned on the door frame.
“You look handsome.” she said quietly. He started, then hastily pulled away from the mirror, the tips of his ears glowing red. His eyes took in her appearance, and he smiled at her, her favorite lop-sided grin that always made her want to laugh, cry, smile and feel a million of other emotions. When she had told this to her parents on the few times they had discussed Ron (after all, he was a pretty big part of the story. Or, rather, his not being a big part of the story was a big part of the story. His absence made him a subject that was unavoidable to skip over in the re-telling of the tale) they had rolled their eyes and given each other half glances, as if to say, 'She has it worse then we thought. When's the wedding?', which Hermione chose to ignore.
Ron sidled up to Hermione, placed his finger on her cheek and kissed her lips.
“Hi.” he breathed once he'd pulled back.
“Hi.” Hermione whispered against him, and then closed her eyes as he kissed her again. “What were you looking at yourself like that in the mirror for?” she asked in a louder voice, choosing to break the spell. After all, there would be plenty more moments like this, and curious witch that she was, she was dying to know.
“Oh.” Ron said, shuffling uncomfortably. “It's just this scar I have. I don't really like it all that much, and it's really noticeable. Plus, I keep wondering why...”
“Why what, Ronald Weasley?” Hermione asked in a commanding voice, as though Ron was a small child caught playing in the mud. She knew what was coming, and she wanted to deal with it then and there so Ron would shut up about the subject forever more.
“Well, why you'd choose me over Harry.” Ron said very quickly. “Lots of girls like him much better, he's the hero and I'm sort of the sidekick. And I can't see why you'd want to hang out with me, much less go out with me... I think I'm quite ugly.”
“You're your own worst critic, Ronald Weasley.” Hermione said in a disapproving tone. “Stop doubting yourself. I picked you, not Harry. I kissed you, not Harry. I love you, not Harry. Well, not in the same way I love you, anyway.” Hermione realized with a start that she had just told Ron she loved him for the first time outside of the craziness of post battle euphoria without even thinking about it. It had just come out. He seemed to realize it too, but instead of looking shocked, a large grin stretched across his face. Hermione reached up and kissed it. She pulled back. “Besides,” she said, studying Ron's face and looking him up and down. “I like sidekicks much better. And I think you're kinda cute. And as for this scar...” Hermione traced it with her index finger, then reached up and made a long trail of kisses down the scar line. “I think it makes you look devilishly handsome, but I can fix it for you if you want.”
“Don't make it go away all together,” Ron said hastily as Hermione raised her wand. “I have a feeling someday I might need it. I don't want it right now, the battle is so fresh in my mind, but someday I'm going to need it.”
“How about I make it so when you need it it becomes stronger and easier to see?”
Ron grinned at her in approval. Her favorite, lopsided grin.
Hermione re-focused back to earth and realized that, while she was having the memory, she had just answer 15 questions plus the first five and emitted the right sparks without even realizing it. She chanced a sneaky glance over at Ron and saw that the scar was darker then she remembered it from the last time she'd really concentrated on it, back while they were dating. He was starting to need it, apparently. Hermione shivered. The memory made her want to jump into Ron's arms and kiss his lips, then kiss his jawline just as she had the day of their first date. But now she couldn't. His jawline was no longer hers. His lips were no longer hers. Ron himself was no longer hers.
Ron was giving Hermione a odd look, and she realized that he'd seen her looking at him. He placed his hand curiously on his scar, then turned back to Colin.
“Now, this is the last question, is the bonus question, which will give you a certain amount of points deepening on how well you answer it. Here it is: which color to you like best on each other?”
“I like Ron in navy.” Hermione offered coming out of her reverie entirely at the words bonus and question. She always did like bonus questions. She smiled at her answer, thinking about how nice his hair looked with the color. It made the crazy red color look sexy, something no other color could do. “He has this great outfit with this tight black tee-shirt and a nice pair of jeans, wore it to the muggle world once, I don't think I've ever seen him in a better outfit.” Hermione grew steadily redder as her words flew out of her mouth.
Well, she did like him much better with no shirt at all, but that wasn't an outfit so the potion wasn't forcing her to say it.
“I like Hermione in periwinkle-lavender sort of colors-” (Hermione's face flushed with anger at the word lavender) “-because the two times I've seen her really dressed up she was wearing that color scheme.”
“Wonderful!” Colin said. “Now, the audience is going to score you on your answers- don't forget that we'll be meeting back here again after a few dates...ah, yes- here're the results.”
But Hermione didn't listen to who won the first challenge. What did it matter? As soon as she had finished fake smiling for the camera and the director had yelled 'CUT!', Hermione ran off of the set, sprinted down the hallway and wrenched open the door to her dressing room.
“Miss Granger?”
Ben, the security guard, looked into the room.
“Are you alright?”
“I'm fine.” Hermione said angrily. “Have you seen Ginny?”
“She left with her fiancée a while ago. I must say, that was quite a stunt to pull. Oh, and what a way to announce their engagement...”
“Thank you, Ben.” Hermione said firmly. Ben took the hint and closed the door. Hermione stood there for a minute, then collapsed on the couch and started to cry. Mascara ran down her face as she cried into her hands.
The door burst open. Hermione looked up from her hands to see Ron standing in the doorway, looking as though he didn't quite know what he was doing there. He saw her tear streaked face and his own face softened slightly, the confused look melting off of it.
“You're wrong, you know.” he said in a strong, clear, unafraid voice. Hermione looked up at him incredulously, pain and confusion flicking across her face. “You're wrong.” he said again, and she noted the bold way in which he spoke. Well, that was okay. She was afraid enough for both of them. “I am yours. I always have been, and I always will be.”
How did he-? But before she had time to ponder it, Ron had strode over to her in two swift steps. She tilted her face up towards his, and, using his thumb, Ron wiped away a mascara influenced tear. Then, with two more strides Ron walked over to the door and walked through it, shutting it firmly closed behind him.
A/N: What'd you think? Liked it? Hated it? Thought the whole time that writergirl8 was the craziest thing you've ever seen? Well, I've just hit my 300 somethingth review and although this must sound scarily cheesy, it feels good to know you've just made someone's day by giving them advice or telling them how good you thought their chapter was. Warm fuzzies. Yours till I actually remember to call my cousin back (if you're reading this, A, I love you like a sister!)... ~writergirl8
Hermione was starting to get sick of triple chocolate ice cream.
She'd had so much of it in the last few days she was longing for vanilla instead. It was sickening, really. She's always been a chocolate person. But now, sitting here eating her 14th container of triple chocolate ice cream, Hermione was longing for vanilla. She supposed this was what happened when your supposedly best friend puts you on a game show so you could fall back in love with your ex boyfriend who also happened to be your supposedly best friend's brother.
She really needed some vanilla.
Hermione got up and apparated to a muggle ice cream store she had used to love when she was a kid. She got 10 of the flavor 'Moosetracks', 10 chocolate chip cookie dough and 5 cherry vanillas. She appareted back to her flat, turned the key in the door and put her ice creams in the freezer, removing one tub of cherry vanilla and a spoon from the drawer. When she turned around, Ginny was standing over her trash can, looking appalled and revolted.
“Triple chocolate ice cream... no wonder you switched to cherry vanilla!” she said, slamming the lid to Hermione's trash can shut. Just to prove Ginny wrong, Hermione put the cherry vanilla away and pulled out cookie dough.
“They're for the less fortunate.” she told Ginny, walking over to her living room and folding her legs in the pretzel position. She pulled off the cover of the ice-cream dipped her spoon into it and took a big bite. “namely, me.”
“I think you're very fortunate.” Ginny protested, grabbing a tube of moosetracks and going to sit next to Hermione.
“Hey! Hands off of my ice cream!” Hermione cried
“No.” Ginny said defiantly. “I love this flavor.”
The two girls glared at each other for a moment, then Hermione broke the glare, is if she couldn't bare to stare at Ginny one more second. They sat in silence for a few moments, eating their ice cream, until Ginny turned to Hermione.
“So I guess you won't be doing the game show any longer, huh?” she asked quietly.
“No. I won't be.” Hermione replied in a near silent voice.
“And you will not be getting back together with my brother, either?” Ginny inquired, knowing the answer still.
“No. I will not be.” Hermione answered, incredulous that the question was even asked.
There was more silence, during which Ginny tried to bite back the words she knew had to surface sometime. After battling for about 3 minutes, the idiot in her won out.
“Merlin, Hermione! Why won't you do this? No, scratch that, why DO you do this? You don't need a game show to help you figure out that you love Ron! You already know it, you just won't admit it to anyone, including yourself.” she burst.
“I don't love Ron, Ginny.” Hermione said blandly, staring into space.
“Yes you do!” Ginny sprang to her feet, obviously beside herself.
“You do, you do and you won't admit it. Why won't you admit it? Why won't you let yourself be happy?” Ginny stomped childishly.
“I CAN'T!” Hermione screamed suddenly, jumping up from her spot on the couch. “DON'T YOU GET IT? I can't, Ginny, because if I admit it to myself and I admit it to him he's just going to hurt me over and over again until I'm NOTHING!” by the end of the mini-monologue Hermione's words were so slurred with tears Ginny could barely hear her. The two girls stared at each other angrily, then Hermione collapsed onto the couch and rolled up into a ball, crying harder then she had in days. It felt wonderful and horrible at the same time to speak the words she had been dreading to speak for a long time now. Ginny sat down and rubbed Hermione's back.
“Shhhh. It'll be fine. You'll see. Every thing's gonna be okay.”
“How can it?” Hermione asked, despite her tears. “I'm not happy with Ron; I'm not happy without Ron. I'm a bloody mess!”
“I know.” said Ginny. She never stopped rubbing Hermione's back. “But hating him isn't going to do anything, either. You're never going to forgive yourself if you don't try.”
“I won't, will I?” Hermione sniffed.
“No. You won't.” Ginny said firmly.
There was a more comfortable silence as neither of the girls said anything, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Ginny?” Hermione said suddenly. “What colors are the bridesmaid's dresses?”
“What?” Ginny asked incredulously.
“What color are the bridesmaid's dresses for your and Harry's wedding? Because I think that they should be purple.”
“Really? I was thinking the same thing!” Ginny said, surprised. “You can wear a dark purple, while the other bridesmaids can wear a lighter one.”
There was silence for a fraction of a second, both women got up and hugged each other.
“I'm sorry.” Hermione murmured into Ginny's shoulder. “You and Harry are meant for each other. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Ginny said through her tears. “Thank you so much.”
Hermione and Ginny had still been speaking, but after the first mention of the wedding, neither had spoken of it. It was like an agreement that Hermione wouldn't try to talk Ginny out of the wedding and Ginny wouldn't have to defend herself. Still, they had both sensed it in the offering, like an open wound that refused to heal because it wasn't being addressed to. Now, the wound was healed and they were back, stronger, maybe, then ever before.
“I tell you what.” Ginny said. “I'll find out the first date, and then we'll go shopping and have a girls day in. We'll do hair, nails, make-up, and you can go on your date.”
“Thanks.” Hermione said. She breathed in deeply. She had Ginny on her side. Maybe she could get through this after all.
Then again, maybe not.
***
Ginny came to see Hermione at her office once she'd found out about the first date.
“We're going to the beach? We've been to the beach together before.” Hermione said, surprised.
“Yes, well, they don't really care where you've been. Besides, they want to re-create romantic times where you and Ron were happy together.”
“Well, the beach certainly was that.” Hermione admitted. “It was where he asked me to live with him.”
“Really.” Ginny said, her eyes glinting mischievously.
“You told them that, didn't you?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, it's no problem.” Ginny said, grinning. “So, are you ready to go shopping?” she asked.
“No. I'll never be ready to go shopping. I have anti-shopping disease.”
“Must not be contagious.” Ginny said. “I don't have it at all.”
“No, it doesn't seem to have rubbed off on you, does it?”
“Not at all. Now come on!”
“Wait!” Hermione put a hand up. “I'm still working. My boss will kill-”
“Ooohhh, Hermione, going shopping for the first date? Have fun!” her boss said, sliding out of his office.
“You... you watch 'The Perfect Match'?” Hermione asked weakly after getting over the initial shock of the fact that her boss was letting her leave the office before it was time to go. He was a stickler for rules, a regular Percy, and being on time was one of his favorites, likewise for leaving on time as well.
“No. My wife does.” he said fondly. “She's rooting for you!”
“Tell her not to hold her breath.” Hermione grumped.
“Thanks!” Ginny said, smiling at Mr. Kennington and ignoring Hermione's comment entirely. “I'll see what we can do about getting her a autograph from Colin, Ron and Hermione.”
“Oh, that'd be brilliant, thanks.” Mr. Kennington beamed.
“Oh, merlin help me.” Hermione said faintly as Ginny pushed her out the door.
Ginny apparated her to a muggle mall and they hurried inside.
“We don't want people knowing your outfit before you wear it.” she explained at Hermione's quizzical look. “At least, not on this date.”
Ginny found a yellow dress for Hermione to wear, then a brown belt and matching high heeled shoes and a wooden brown bracelet.
“Have I mentioned how much I hate this outfit?” Hermione asked.
“A million times. Have I mentioned that you'll live?”
“A billion.”
***
Ginny rushed a very nervous Hermione into the studio early the day of the date. After painting Hermione's nails and toes cherry red, plucking and waxing her until she felt raw, and popping a few zits that had come in due to the stress Hermione was under, she worked on Hermione's hair and make-up, Ginny's favorite part of all, and Hermione's least favorite, apart from waxing. Ginny carefully applied eyeliner and mascara, curling Hermione's eyelashes up with a wave of her wand. She applied a slight amount of blush, a small amount of almost invisible black eyeshadow and a cherry red, shiny lip gloss. Hermione was ready to strangle the next person who walked through the door before Ginny started working on her hair.
With a wave of her wand, Ginny made Hermione's hair pin strait, then another wave and it fell in silky waves a few inches past her shoulders. Hermione had never seen her hair so... not bushy. She supposed it was just as afraid of Ginny as she was. Hermione slipped into the yellow dress and her accessories, then walked over to the mirror, teetering in her heels. She looked... different. More mature, not like herself, but actually quite pretty.
“The viewers aren't going to recognize me.” Hermione stated blankly, not showing her feelings: she was marveling at how pretty she looked, especially her hair.
“Of course they will,” Ginny said, waving it off with a brush of her hand. “They'll love it.” she paused, then said, “Ron will love it.”
“Well, luckily for me, I don't care if he does or not, because I don't give a damn about him, now do I?” Hermione said briskly, walking away from the mirror. She collapsed onto the couch two steps later.
“Ginny, do something about these heels!” she said angrily. Ginny stuck her tongue out at Hermione and lowered the heels with her wand.
“Thank god.” Hermione breathed, massaging her ankles and glancing down at the much lower heels. “How do people do that all day everyday?”
“Practice.” Ginny said dryly.
“Miss. Grang- Hermione? Here's your portkey.” Ben said, placing a rose in the room with a tag that said 'The Perfect Match- date one' on it. “Oh, and Colin will be coming in to ask you you about your pre-date nerves.”
“Ben, he said he'd do it after the date!” Ginny said impatiently. “Hermione's dressed now!”
“Hey, just my orders. Complain to him.”
“Oh, dear. No one can see your outfit... here.” Ginny tossed Hermione a shirt to throw over her dress and told her to scrub off her lip gloss. She put on a pink color and un-curled Hermione's lashes. With a final wave of her wand, Hermione's hair was once again pin-strait. “I don't want to put your hair all the way back to normal. It's the best we can do.” Ginny sighed, putting her wand away again as the Colin walked into the room.
“Hello, Hermione.” he said, grinning. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous. Excited. Angry. Wary.”
“Fantastic.” Colin beamed. “What adjectives! Mr. Weasley only said he was valuing his cheeks, because he didn't think they'd be the same after tonight.”
“Oh, please.” Ginny said. “Just go for his nose instead. A good solid punch should do it.”
“Hilarious!” Colin exclaimed. Ginny rolled her eyes as the camera men left the room. As soon as they shut the door, Ginny took out her wand, re-curled Hermione's eyelashes, replaced the pink lip-gloss with cherry red and performed the final spell on Hermione's hair as Hermione took off the shirt.
“Are you ready?” Ginny asked in a hushed voice as the portkey began to glow.
“As I'll ever be.” Hermione admitted, placing a finger on it. She felt the jerk at her navel as she spun out of the room. The last thing she saw was Ginny waving before she landed with a thump and looked up to see Ron wearing dark wash jeans and a black tee-shirt, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Hi.” he said and Hermione noticed there was neither a grin on his face nor a laugh in his tone. Instead, he nodded at her, offering Hermione a hand to help her up. She took it, because there was no way she could get up in a dignified way wearing these heels. “It's time for dinner.”
A/N: So, I was typing the other day and I realized that my story had reached Novel status! I was so happy... so, as of now I'm changing my story status to novel and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Don't forget to review! ~writergirl8
Ron lead Hermione over to a little restaurant on the side of the beach. It wasn't loud or noisy, but it wasn't silent either. A small bar in the corner told them that the place offered alcohol, which Ron was a little wary of. It was going to take all of his willpower not to order a drink. It was only 1:00 in the afternoon, anyway, and he didn't really need anything at this time of day. He hoped.
He walked over to a small table with a 'reserved for The Perfect Match' sign placed upon it and pulled Hermione's chair out for her. She glared at him and sat down in it, scooting it in herself before he could push it. Ron rolled his eyes. He was so bloody sick of Hermione's rude behavior, like it cost her physical pain just to look at him. He tried not to think about it. He instead looked around the place for a camera man, but found that he couldn't see one. How strange. Still, it was making him feel secure. Maybe the camera people weren't there yet. Maybe they wouldn't film the dates... but then what would be the point of the show? Ron himself had never watched 'The Perfect Match', but he pretty much got the gist of it. 'The Perfect Match' showed couples on their dates and what lead them to get together. There were a few couples on per season, but they never actually met up with each other. Ron also knew that some shows were live and some shows were not. This show, Colin had told him, was not live, because they had to add interviews in. Most of the live shows were the shows filmed in the studio.
A waiter walked over to the table and smiled at Hermione and at Ron.
“Good afternoon.” he said. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“A firewhisky and lemonade, please. And a water.” Hermione said.
“Just a water, thanks.” Ron responded.
“Wonderful.” the waiter beamed. No doubt he knew who they were. Oh, joy.
They sat in silence until the waiter brought the drinks to them. Then, after a sip of his water, Ron asked the question that had been threatening to burst all day every time he talked to Harry, Ginny, Colin and now, Hermione.
“So.” Ron leaned toward Hermione. “Why are you doing the game show?”
Hermione didn't look at him. She was torn . Should she tell him that she was doing it because there was a chance she might still love him. Okay, that she did still love him but wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself, and the game show was so maybe she could learn to trust him and possibly for him to earn back the love that he had lost by kissing the model-like lady at Harry and Ginny's house.
“Ginny said she'd bat-bogey me into eternity if I didn't.” she responded dryly after a few moments, taking a sip of her drink.
Ron felt slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything.
“Why are you doing it?” Hermione asked, in a voice Ron couldn't decipher.
“Because I know you don't want to hear it, but I love you.”
“No, I don't want to hear it, so save it, will you?” Hermione said angrily. She furiously wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye and stirred her straw.
“How's work?” Ron asked.
Hermione's eyes zoomed left, right, then to Ron. She could be annoyed, she could act like a bitch, or she could be relax and show Ron exactly what he was missing. Relax, Hermione, She told herself. It's just a date. You've been on plenty of them before, and no doubt you'll be on many more in the future. She laughed.
“Did you really just ask me that?”
“It's the only thing I could think of.” Ron shrugged.
“Work... is good.” Hermione said lightly. She felt as though she had loosened up as she laughed. She did enjoy laughing. It reminded her of a muggle movie she'd like to watch when she was little, before she'd ever heard of Hogwarts or Ron or Harry Potter. Those were the days.
“Have you ever heard of Mary Poppins?” she blurted out of the blue.
“Er... no.” Ron said. “I haven't, actually.”
“Oh.” Hermione said.
“Erm... what is it?” Ron asked despite himself.
“A movie. Muggles watch it all the time, it's a classic.”
“Right.” Ron said, his brow furrowing in confusion. Hermione laughed.
“Oh, Ron. Didn't I ever explain movies to you?”
“You mean like when you crazy muggles go to the Cinnamon?”
“Cinema, Ron.” Hermione said, laughing harder still.
“Right, Cinnamon!” Ron said, exasperated.
“May I take your order?” the waiter asked, coming back up to their table.
“Yes, thank you.” Hermione said.
“I'll have a BLT.” they both said at the same time. Ron and Hermione glared at each other, then decided instead to shake it off and pretend nothing had happened.
“Don't forget the mayo!” Ron called after the waiter for lack of anything better to say. He knew that the tips of his ears were turning pink with embarrassment, and he tried with all of his might to make them go back to normal, but he never did master that subject. He wondered if there was a spell for it. There probably was. There was a spell for everything, it seemed.
“How's your work?” Hermione asked, being polite. Ron, however, was not one to take being asked about his job lightly. She'd forgotten. He always started with 'Well, I can't tell you too much, really,' and then go on to tell people more then they actually wanted or needed to know.
“Well,” Ron said after drawing in a deep, excited breath, “I can't tell you too much, really.”
Hermione bit her lip to try to stop herself from laughing and saying 'At you, not with you'. She felt as though it wouldn't go over well on camera.
“We've captured nearly all the remaining death eaters by now, and-”
“Ron.” Hermione hissed. “We're on camera. Or at least I think we are. And I don't think it would go over all that well with your boss if you gave away your missions to the general public. Aurors are supposed to be good at keeping secrets.” she tried to keep the playful grin off her face at the look of alarm in Ron's eyes when he realized what he was about to reveal.
“Right. Thanks.” Ron said, and he reached across the table to take Hermione's hand. Hermione felt as though something had exploded in her stomach, like fireworks, more commonly known, she supposed, as sparks. They hadn't done so much as touched each other since the last time she slapped him, and the feeling was back, stronger now and better then ever before. Both Ron and Hermione froze, and they stared at each other in positive alarm as they realized what had just happened. Luckily, they were saved by the waiter coming back with their matching sandwiches.
“Enjoy.” he winked, sweeping his hand toward the table and backing away. Ron slowly moved his hand away from Hermione's, keeping his eyes on her fingers instead of her face. Hermione's heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she felt hot tears springing into her eyes. The date had been going so well, and Ron had to ruin it by taking her hand. First the BLTs, now this... it was mortifying. No. I'm not going to do this. Not today. Not now. Hermione thought to herself.
“Dig in.” she advised Ron in a falsely cheery voice that she knew he knew, but he luckily didn't call her on it. They ate in silence, both savoring the taste of the sandwich. Ron couldn't stand the silence. The viewers were going to be bored out of their minds.
“Wow, we must be a boring pair to watch, eh?” he teased half-heartedly, his eyes not much into the joke.
“Yeah, I guess we must be.” Hermione murmured. She listened to the crunch of the lettuce. “Maybe this was a bad idea...”
“You can't back out now.” Ron said in the same false-cheery voice Hermione had employed just a few moments ago. But his eyes. His blue eyes were serious, digging holes into her. Hermione check the ground to see if she had turned into a puddle yet, but it seemed dry. It looked as though she was still above the floor. Well, in a physical sense. In an emotional sense, she wasn't so sure.
“Do you want to take a walk on the beach?” Ron asked suddenly.
“Yeah, great idea.” Hermione breathed. Ron stood up, threw a few galleons onto the table, then scooped them up when he remembered that 'The Perfect Match' was going to pay for everything. He led Hermione once again out of the restaurant and back onto the beach, where she took off her shoes and left them at the side of the restaurant where she hoped no one could find them. Then again, she wasn't so sure that she ever wanted to see those bloody high heels ever again.
***
Ron laughed as he watched Hermione run onto the beach in all her glory. She looked like a little girl, like a large child who was just discovering the world. She ran all the way to the water and waded in until she was a little bit above her ankles. He took off his own shoes and followed her cautiously into the sand and water, stopping a few feet behind her. He stared at her, fascinated, as she threw her arms back, closed her eyes and sniffed the air, breathing in long and well. He closed his eyes as well, and let the scent of the ocean mingling slightly with Hermione's scent overwhelm his senses. Usually, Hermione's smell was stronger, but the ocean was bigger and more powerful then she was. It seemed endless, really, the ocean. Beautiful, but endless.
“This was where you asked me to move in with you.” Hermione said suddenly. Ron's eyes flew open. He felt his ears turn red, but he dared a look at Hermione's face. She looked like she immensely regretted her words.
“Yeah. It is. You had vanilla and orange twist ice cream and I had-”
“Coffee and Dulce Delache mix, yeah.” Hermione said quietly. Ron desperately wanted to kiss her, but he knew that he didn't have that right. They stood there, in the Ocean, for a few more minutes, then Ron said quietly
“Do you want to go home?”
“Let's.” Hermione said, in a stronger voice then she'd had a few minutes previously. They walked back to the portkey rose and put their fingers on it. It immediately took them back to the studio.
“Well... it's been real.” Ron said, for lack of anything better to say.
“Yeah. G'night.” Hermione said, and a crack told Ron she'd apparated back to their- her- flat. Ron walked over to his dressing room and slowly opened the door. He felt overwhelmed by their first date, but not disappointed. It wasn't terrible. It had actually been quite fun. Except for all the places where he'd embarrassed himself, of course.
As expected, Colin was sitting on the leather couch in his dressing room, waiting for him.
“Well, Mr. Weasley,” Colin said, “How do you think the date went?”
“Well, it was a bit of a catastrophe, but I think it went reasonably well.” Ron said, grinning at the camera.
***
As soon as Hermione got home, she threw her dress over her head and slipped into a navy blue holyhead harpies sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants. She twisted her hair into a messy bun and grabbed her cloth headband and shoved it into her hair. Then she scrubbed the red polish off of her nails (but left it on her toes, she didn't have enough energy right now), grabbed a toothbrush and begin to vigorously brush her teeth.
Halfway through the ritual, however, there was a popping noise and that announced Ginny had apparated into her flat.
“In the bathroom!” Hermione called as she spit, then she shoved the toothbrush back into her mouth and kept brushing.
“How did it go?” Ginny asked excitedly.
“Uuuuhhhrrrhgggg, Ginny, it was a mess!” Hermione said, waving her hand around dramatically.
“A really huge mess.”
“What happened?” Ginny demanded angrily.
“It was at the beach, Ginny, our beach!” Hermione said. “Not just any beach, our beach!”
“So,” Ginny said, shrugging. “That means you must like it.”
Hermione groaned.
“And we both ordered a BLT... at the same time, on top of it all.”
“Hey, what's so bad about BLTs?” Ginny asked defiantly. “I like them.”
“Yes, but BLTs are our sandwich.” Hermione stated hysterically.
“What d'you mean?” Ginny said.
“Well, on rainy days we used to dress up in our warmest rainy day clothes, make BLTs and listen to the wireless.”
“I thought your favorite food was triple chocolate ice cream.” Ginny stated, amused.
“Favorite dessert, Ginny.” Hermione said, spitting out her toothpaste for a final time.
“And on top of everything, Ginny... we talked about us.”
“You mean, like... your relationship?” Ginny sounded thrilled, putting emphasis on the word, relationship, her eyes sparkling excitedly.
“Yes, our relationship.” Hermione responded.
“What did you two say?” Ginny asked, barley able to contain her excitement. Her body was calm, granted, but her lips were curved upward in a devilish smile and her eyes were sparkling madly. She looked like she was about to burst, as though Christmas had come at least 4 months early. Hermione, however, was saved from answering as a owl flew to her window. She hurried over it, glad to temporarily abandon her over-excited best friend, and opened up the window.
A handsome brown owl was carrying two large packages, and Hermione wondered who the other was for. The owl flew in, dropped one heavy package on Hermione's bed, then flew right back out. Hermione shut the window, while Ginny crossed the room over to the bed. She let out a squeal of delight as she read the back of the package. Hermione hurried over to her to try to grab the package, but Ginny held it out of her reach. Finally, Hermione snagged the package from her hand.
“You know I could arrest you for looking at my mail?” Hermione teased as she turned the package over to read the back. In the background of the white envelope, the words 'The Perfect Match' were placed in neat, cursive, silver lettering. A hand had scribbled Ms. Hermione Granger in smaller, black handwriting over it.
“The other one must be for Ron.” Hermione mused aloud.
“Who cares about Ron?” Ginny cried. She huffed impatiently, danced on the spot for a moment like a little girl that had to go to the bathroom, then opened the envelope with a swish of her wand, and reached in and pulled out a square shaped object.
“What's that?” Hermione asked. Ginny shrugged.
“Is there a letter?” she jabbed. Hermione shot her a look a reached into the package. There was, indeed, a letter.
Dear Ms. Granger,
Here is the film footage from tonights date with Ronald Weasley. You have the right to ask us to cut out anything you don't want in there FOR A GOOD REASON, but we daresay that you'll find it most enjoyable. Henceforth, please, enjoy. Your Servant,
Colin Love
Sweet Wizard Studios
Senior Host
'The Perfect Match'
As Hermione read the word 'footage', the square object flew out of Ginny's hand and faced a bit of blank wall above Hermione's bed. Ginny bounded onto the bed and sat upright and watching, facing the wall. Hermione blushed and bit her lip through the footage, but she couldn't find anything to take out 'For a good reason'. Besides the part about Ron talking about his job. She knew for a fact that they would not be taking the hand part of, no doubt it would be played over and over in advertisement for the episode. When the footage was done, Hermione looked over at Ginny, who was looking dumbstruck at the wall.
“Well.” she said after a few moments. “It could have been worse. Much, much worse.”
Hermione nodded blankly.
"We've done good!” Ginny cheered. “And my outfit looked amazing. You looked amazing. Ron looked like he was about to start drooling all over your dress, although he wouldn't actually because he knows that I would kill him for ruining it.” Ginny sprang up, then kissed Hermione once on each cheek. “Go to bed. You need your sleep.” then she bounded to the door frame, and with a crack, was gone.
Hermione reached over and saw the everlasting rose slash portkey with the tag that said 'The Perfect Match- date one' on it lying on her dresser.
“Accio rose!” she said, and then conjured a vase for it as it flew into her hand. She placed the petal in the vase, muttered “Agumenti!” then slowly reached a finger out to stroke the rose, the rose that she would have forever. If only she knew what forever would be. A few months ago, forever was in front of her, loud and clear. She had 20/20 vision of what the future would be like. Now, she was blind as a bat.
And with that thought, Hermione slumped against her pillows and promptly fell asleep.
A/N: Chapter Nine. Wow, that went really fast. I can't believe I'm already posting chapter nine. Twenty will be up in no time, lol. Anyway, I know at the end of the last chapter I said it was a dinner date, but I lied, lol. It was lunch. I wasn't about to rewrite this whole chapter and the other one was already up so here it is. Anyway, I hope you liked this and if you review it'll make my day, and I'll love you forever. PS: If you're intrested in graphics, check out my gallery on TDA. Same name...~writergirl8
Ron was lying down on the couch, watching the sky. It was pouring outside, raining harder then it had in weeks. He hated rain. It was so dreary. Hermione thought rain was beautiful and said that the only reason Ron didn't like it was because he couldn't play Quidditch in it. Now that he thought about it, she was probably right.
“BLT sandwiches, and the brownies are in the oven.” Hermione said, coming into the room carrying a platter of BLTs.
“Do they have mayo?” Ron asked hopefully.
“Yes.” Hermione said, laughing a tinkling laugh that made Ron's stomach lurch with excitement. She handed him the sandwich platter, then leaned down and kissed him sweetly on the lips. She pulled back, smiling to herself, then walked out of the room.
“Let me just go get the brownies!” she called back as Ron bit into his sandwich. He nodded and let her go, with the promise that she would come back. She always did.
Hermione entered the room this time with a platter of perfectly frosted brownies. It was perfect. This whole vision. Hermione plus food equaled happy Ron. Hermione sat down on the couch, clicked a remote control and leaned back to enjoy the movie.
“Oh, a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down in the most delightful way!” sang the woman on the screen. Ron looked down at Hermione to see her eyes closed, her body leaning against his.
“Hermione, wake up. You're missing the movie!” he said urgently. Hermione looked up.
“Sorry.” she said, shaking herself awake and kissing his nose. In a minute , it had turned into a full on snog session, and, unfortunately, the movie was forgotten.
'This is brilliant!' Ron thought to himself. 'Food, Hermione and snogging... all in the course of a single hour.'
He dipped his head to kiss her cookie cutter scar, and a longing moan escaped her lips.
“Ron.” she whispered, her voice light as the wind. “Ron. RON!”
Ron opened his eyes to see Ginny standing over him, frowning.
“Er- what?” he said, looking down to see his gray tee-shirt was dripping in sweat.
“You were moaning in your sleep.” Harry told him, looking as though he was trying not to laugh.
“What was I saying?” Ron asked, feeling as though he didn't want to know at all be might as well get it out of his way.
“Some bull about sugar, medicine, mayonnaise and Hermione.” Ginny said bluntly
“Oh, and cookies.” Harry added helpfully. They exchange amused glances, and Ron felt his ears grow steadily redder.
“Oh.” Ron said, and then he sunk under his covers. Ginny, however, had other ideas. The warm covers flew off of his body and he grabbed at them, but Ginny held them out of his reach.
“Second date. Today. Get up. Now.” Ginny said.
“Good morning to you, too, Ginny.” Ron said sarcastically, a mock grin on his face.
“Get. UP!” Ginny said, stomping out of her room. Harry looked after his fiancée with a partly exasperated, partly amused expression on his face, then turned back to Ron.
“It's her time of month.” he explained helpfully.
“Uhlg. Why would you want to live with that, mate?” Ron asked.
“Because I love it.” Harry told him seriously. “Oh, and this came for you.” he dropped a rose onto the bed, and Ron's eyes immediately flew to the tag. 'The Perfect Match- date two'. Harry nodded at Ron, then walked out the door. “You'd better get up.” he advised, before pulling it shut.
Ron slumped back against his pillows, but then bolted upright. He was going on his second date with Hermione today. He leaped out of bed, then ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where the smell of sausage drifted up his nostrils. He jumped over to Ginny and ceased her around her middle.
“Hello, my darling sister.” he said happily, as Harry watched from over his newspaper, looking thoroughly amused. In a second, Ron had been blasted back by Ginny and her wand.
“Don't DO that, Ron!” she breathed.
“She's cramping. Walk away and come back later.” Harry told him.
“Will do.” Ron saluted him, then walked out of the kitchen. He dressed in a navy and black striped shirt and a random but clean (well, he was pretty sure they were clean) pair of jeans. After he had brushed his teeth, he headed back to the kitchen to hear Ginny talking excitedly to Harry about clothes.
“When the show hits TVs and wirelesses all over the world, Hermione will be a fashion ICON!” she said, grinning her head off. “All because of me. All the styles I want to wear will be more in then fake Pygmy Puffs on top of Christmas trees. Oh, hi, Ron.” Ginny added as he walked into the kitchen.
“I suppose you've taken your medicine, then?” Ron grinned.
“Yes.” Ginny said shortly.
“Excellent. What's for breakfast?”
“Well, there's bacon and eggs... and I'm sorry but we're all out of sausage.”
And just from that single sentence, Ron knew it was going to be a very bad day.
***
Hermione woke up to the sound of two owls tapping on her window. She groaned, rolled over in bed and fell back asleep.
Almost.
The owls were persistent. They kept on tapping and tapping and tapping until they drove Hermione crazy.
“Fine!” She cried, storming out of bed and over to the window. She wrenched it open and recognized both Dora, Ginny's owl, and the same owl she'd gotten the film from 'The Perfect Match' a week ago. It was carrying a rose along with a letter. It dawned on her as the took the letters and threw the owls back out the window that it was time for the next date. Her fingers fumbled excitedly as she opened the letter from 'The Perfect Match' first.
Dear Ms. Granger,
For your next date, you and Mr. Weasley will be heading to a small town to enjoy a nice evening on the water. We have included some extra spending money for you to make your date more enjoyable. Remember, there will be cameras there, but they will be hidden, as they were on your first date. Please enjoy, and wear comfortable shoes and dress casually. Yours,
Colin Love
Sweet Wizard Studios
Senior Host
The Perfect Match
As quickly as she could, Hermione opened the other letter, this one, she knew, from Ginny.
Hi, Hermione.
I hope you've slept well. I also hope you're sitting down, because you'll need to be after I tell you this: I showed mum the footage of your date. She nearly had heart attack. Apparently, NO ONE TOLD HER YOU AND RON WERE BROKEN UP IN THE FIRST PLACE. Little bit of a shock when she found out you were on a game show to try to fall back in love with her youngest son while he was pining over you, eh? Well, she's excited to watch the edited version, which they should air in a week or so. Anyway, she's confident that you two will get back together, and I quote: 'They're meant to be, they are'. Well, frankly, I believe her. After all, mother knows best.
For your first date, as you may know by now (Ron just got his rose; I obviously opened his letter, as the bum isn't awake yet), you will be taking a trip to a small town. I'll be over in a few with your outfit. Be breakfasted and washed up, please. -Ginny.
Hermione sat down at the shock of Mrs. Weasley not knowing. Did this mean that Ron didn't want their break up to be true? Or did it just mean that he was a lazy bum, as Ginny said? It was probably the latter. ' ...Try to fall back in love with her youngest son while he was pining over you...'-'...She's confident that you two will get back together...' -'...NO ONE TOLD HER YOU AND RON WERE BROKEN UP IN THE FIRST PLACE...' - Hermione was shaken by her thoughts as Ginny burst through the door.
“You just woke up, didn't you?” she sighed. “Merlin, Hermione, it's nearly 1 o'clock in the afternoon!”
“Yes. I wake up at 4 AM every morning for work!” She added defiantly.
“Good, you read my letter.” Ginny said, bustling over to the bathroom.
“Yes, and...” But whatever Hermione was about to say never came out; Ginny had levitated a toothbrush right into her mouth and was now absentmindedly brushing Hermione's teeth for her as she gazed at the jewelry selection in Hermione's closet.
“This won't do... good merlin, you still have this?... uhg, that's hideous, who gave this to you, Harry's Aunt Petunia?...”
Hermione rushed over to the bathroom to spit, cursing whoever invented the spell 'Wingardium Leviosa', then quickly shed her clothes and stepped into the shower.
“Hey, Ron still has your shampoo.” Ginny said conversationally from her closet, and Hermione's stomach lurched in what she couldn't tell was a pleasant way or not. “He casts spells on his bathroom to make it smell like it. Nice scent, too- oh, perfect! You do have taste, Hermione! It's hidden, but it's there.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped out of the shower.
***
An hour later, Ginny had her in a olive green dress with a brown sash with a silver over-sized bracelet and a matching necklace. She forced her into a pair of comfortable looking brown flip flops and gave her the usual make-up; passion fruit lip gloss (something Hermione admittedly did like to wear- the only problem was she ate it off when she was hungry and had to constantly reapply it), eyeliner (pencil, not liquid) and mascara. After adding a bit of gold and green eyeshadow, Hermione was supposedly ready to go.
“Ohhhh, yippee! I don't look like a raccoon.” Hermione said sarcastically as she looked at herself in the mirror. She lowered her voice. “I look like a fairy instead.” Then she frowned. “Wait, you aren't going to attack my hair?”
“No, its natural look works well with the look I'm going for on this date.” Ginny replied, so busy searching through Hermione's closet for something to keep her warm she missed the slight bitterness in Hermione's tone.
“Joy.” Hermione said, as she watched Ginny pounce on a knitted brown sweater that went perfectly with the sash.
“I am amazed by my talent.” Ginny beamed, looking Hermione up and down, and looking as though she wanted to cry in pride.
Hermione, of course, wanted to cry as well, but in frustration instead of tears.
***
“This is nice.” Hermione said to Ron 4 hours later as she spooned a piece of pasta into her mouth and looked out at the water thoughtfully. She sighed as she watched the sunset stretch across the sky. “It's so beautiful.”
“Yes. It is.” Ron said, who was staring at Hermione's face, rather then the sky. He picked absentmindedly at his steak and potatoes and watched her take a deep breath, eyelids closed, as she inhaled a gust of fresh wind.
“Do you want dessert?” Hermione asked, looking over at Ron when she had finished her pasta.
“I've already had it.” Ron told her without thinking. Hermione looked at him oddly, then rolled her eyes (she really was spending too much time with Ginny) and got up.
“We'll get ice cream.”
She stepped out of the restaurant and onto the stone road, then looked around the path and started walking down the hill, her rose clutched safely in her purse. Ron followed quickly, walking behind her, then next to her when he couldn't take walking so slowly anymore.
“We're you going?” he asked. Hermione glanced at him, as if surprised that he dared walk next to her, but then decided to pass it off.
“You don't have to be going somewhere to walk, Ronald.” she said impatiently. He shut up after that. A little way down the path, two witches were clutching books excitedly.
“...first editions, nothing under 10 sickles!” she crowed happily. Ron looked over at Hermione. It seemed as though she was transforming, her pupils dilating, her hair growing more bushy.
“Excuse me.” she said. “Where are these books?”
Books. Oh, dear, dear merlin. His day was about to get a lot more boring. Ron crossed his fingers. Don't tell her, don't tell her.
“Oh, at the church down the street, dear.” the older of the two said.
Bloody hell.
“Just walk strait, you can't miss it.” said the other.
“Thanks.” Hermione beamed. And then she'd grabbed Ron's hand and was running faster then he'd ever seen her run. She'd been slower then this on the horcrux hunt, for the love of merlin. Wasn't that the time to speed it up? But, no, at the mention of books she was flying down the street, faster then the thestrals that had carried them to London in 5th year.
“Her...Mione... SLOW DOWN!” Ron called.
“Are you bloody crazy?!” Hermione yelled over her shoulder.
Ron, taken aback by her language, didn't say anything after that. They arrived at the book sale in a few more leaps and Ron saw Hermione's eyes mist over and fill up with thrilled tears before she was lost in the crowd of other eager book buyers.
“Merlin.” Ron said to himself, putting his hands in his pockets and standing there like the useless thing he was pretty sure he was. “It must be her time of month as well. Maybe they all run together.”
A woman standing next to him cleared her throat. Ron spun around, hoping she hadn't heard him. The look on her face, however, was relaxed, humored. She had freckles, sandy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.
“Hello.” she said, grinning. “Is your girlfriend in there, then?”
“Well...” Ron felt as though he might possibly be stretching the truth by saying that Hermione was his girlfriend, but felt it might be a little confusing to say 'Well, actually, my best friend who has had a crush on me since first year and I think I probably had a crush on her but didn't realize that I did until 4th year because I got jealous when Viktor Krum the international Quidditch player asked her out and then I found out that she kissed him so I had a relationship with Lavender Brown to make her jealous and ended up tearing us apart in 6th year but then I read a book called 12 Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches and we sort of flirted through the Horcrux hunt with Harry Potter, who by the way is our best friend, and then I broke her heart by leaving, although in my defense, I tried to get back the next day but she's the most brilliant witch of her time so I couldn't find them and then I finally got back by rescuing Harry from a locket and she kissed me during the final battle after I suggested saving the House Elves and then we started dating and living together but then I acted like a prat so she kicked me out and I accidentally cheated on her with a girl that I can't remember so then we officially broke up so my little sister and her best friend beside me and Harry put us on a game show called 'The Perfect Match' and now we're on our second date is in there', so he just said, “Yes, my girlfriend is in there.”
“My boyfriend is in there, as well. He loooooves books, constantly reading.” she shook her head in a mock frustrated way, but Ron could tell she was smiling.
“Want to see a picture?” she said suddenly.
“Er- of what?”
“My boyfriend!” she said happily. Ron felt as though he couldn't deny her the pleasure, so he nodded. She tugged a picture out of her purse and handed it to Ron. Bloody hell. Sweet Merlin. He had a 6 pack, tanish skin, blue eyes, and was tall (but not as tall as Ron was)... all this and he liked books? He was Hermione's perfect man! He had to save her from him!
“Er- excuse me.” Ron said, throwing the picture back at the girl and running into the crowd. He looked around wildly, then spotted Hermione chatting animatedly to the guy. There was more hair flipping and eye batting going on then he would have liked. He hurried up to her with more 'excuse me'-s and 'pardon'-s then he could count, then threw his arm around Hermione's shoulders and grinned at the guy.
“Your girlfriend is waiting for you outside.” he said, his smile not meeting his eyes.
“Oh, really?” the guy said, his eyes full of smile. “nice to meet you, Ms. Granger.” he kissed her hand. Ron gagged. Hermione elbowed him in the gut.
“We should do this again sometime.” Hermione smiled, then blushed. “I mean talk about books.” she amended hurriedly.
“I'll find you.” Mr. Perfect assured her.
“Great.” Hermione said. When Mr. Perfect was gone, she whirled around. “What was that?”
“He had a girlfriend!” Ron argued.
“So what? He was a pleasure to talk to!”
“Did he show you his abs?” Ron asked apprehensively.
“No!” Hermione cried, beside herself. “Oh, come on. I've just paid.” She tugged his arm and led him away from the book sale. They were silent through the rest of their date and as they ate their ice cream, and were not sorry to leave when it was time to go. As soon as he got home, Ron was going to the gym. By the end of the game show, his abs would be 5 times better then Mr. Perfect's.
A/N: Ah, our first look in this story at a jealous Ron! I hope you enjoyed it :) Wow, chapter 10 already. My little story is growing up! Please review :) ~writergirl8
Hermione Granger, age 20, had found herself in a impossible position: she was sitting in a sushi restaurant criss-cross apple sauce. Wearing a dress. On camera. Curse Ginny and all her fashionable choices. The dress admittedly was cute, and when Hermione liked something that Ginny put her in, it was a merlin sent situation. Usually when Ginny dressed her they had a slight... conflict of interest, you could say. But Hermione quite liked this gown. It was red and black, had a beautiful satin ribbon, thick straps on her shoulders and hugged her every curve, ending just above her knees. It wasn't flowy, but instead hugged her body just the way she liked it to when she was showing off her body type. The stilettos were a definite let down after the beautiful dress, but Hermione had decided to frown and bear it. Merlin. She had given up the shoe fight for a measly dress? What was the world coming to?
Hermione glanced across the table at Ron. He looked extremely uncomfortable. Hermione grinned at that, despite herself. She'd had the pleasure of having sushi with her parents one time when they'd went to Japan for dentist's convention. She'd liked it a lot, and had since had it a few times on vacations. Once the house elves had made California Rolls, and Hermione had been in pure heaven. She'd eaten nothing else all night. The avocado just made her so happy. How many times a year did she had avocado, after all?
Still, Hermione remembered what Ron had said when he heard they had sushi for dinner at Hogwarts. It had involved a lot of profanities, a lot of hand gestures, and a lot of shouting.
“Honestly, Ronald, what do you care if they serve sushi? You don't have to eat it!” Hermione had said snobbishly.
“Bloody hell, they're cooking my food with dead fish, Hermione!”
“Honestly.” Hermione had said, marching into the great hall with her nose held high, taking great care to pile the sushi miles high on her golden plate and wave her fork-turned-chopsticks (a nifty spell she'd learned in transfiguration, although she couldn't yet turn the fork back) at Ron's nose. They'd been such idiots then. Then she thought of their petty fight, the fact that she wouldn't say Ron's name for a week after she broke up with him. She looked over at Ron, who was trying all different methods of learning to use chopsticks, one of them including sticking them up his nose. Bar that. They still were idiots.
She suddenly felt the inexplicable desire to go home and soak in the bathtub while eating triple chocolate ice cream and listening to ABBA. Yes, that sounded nice. Hermione got up to leave in a slight trance, but Ron's voice shook her awake.
“Hermione, where are you going?” he said. The look on his face told her he'd seen her underwear after all, and she'd not been careful enough while getting up.
“Ladies'.” Hermione lied hurriedly. She hurried over to the bathroom and burst in through the door, resting her head on the mirror. What the hell was she doing, anyway? She was 20 years old, and on a game show, trying to fall back in love with her ex, or rather, trying to get back together with him. She was still in love with him, she'd never been out of love with him. She'd never be out of love with him. Uhg. It was all just so confusing.
She turned around and leaned on the wall. Her stomach contracted as she remembered their last real night together. It was the night she'd found out that she had gotten the Robinson case. They'd come so close to sleeping together, but she'd stopped it.
“I GOT IT! I GOT IT!” Hermione screeched, running into the flat.
Ron let out a loud whoop and scooped her up into his arms, twirled her around, kissed her and set her down.
“You got the Robinson case, then?” Ron teased, his eyes shining.
“YES!” Hermione yelled. “YES!” she didn't know if she'd ever been so excited. If she could crack this case, then the Pure blood laws could be demolished all together. “I have no idea how to crack this, but hey, I've got time, right?” she grinned.
Ron nodded and conjured some champaign.
“To you, for being the best lawyer in the whole wide world.”
“The whole wide world, huh?” Hermione said, taking a sip of her drink.
“And the prettiest.” Ron told her in a lower voice. And then Hermione was kissing him harder then she ever had before. She'd backed him against the wall and was kissing him with so much passion he wondered who was kissing him for a moment. Hermione usually gave sweet, lingering kisses but this one was anything but sweet, although it most certainly was lingering. Her hands were running up and down his chest, and both of their hearts were beating a thousand times faster then normal.
“Hermione...” Ron said. “If you don't stop now, I don't think I can handle this much longer.”
“Oh.” Hermione pulled back and bit her lip. “Sorry. It was a bit of a in the moment thing.”
“Hermione...”
“No, Ron. I want our first time to be special.”
“This is special.” Ron told her.
Hermione sat down on the couch.
“Maybe I'm just not ready, did you ever think of that?” she said.
.“Oh.” Ron said, frowning. “I'm sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Hermione said, drawing in a deep breath. “Are you okay?”
“Been better.” Ron joked. “I'm gonna go take a shower.”
And then he left the room, causing Hermione to wonder whether she'd done the right thing. But they'd have time. They had forever, didn't they?
Now, looking back, she felt both disappointed and relieved that they hadn't... done it. After all, she'd thought that they'd have all the time in the world. Now, she felt as though if she wanted her first time to be with someone she loved more then anything, she'd be a virgin all her life. The only thing she loved more then life was Ron. She loved Ginny, she loved Harry, but not in the same way that she loved Ron. Bloody hell, she loved Ron more then she loved triple chocolate ice cream! She felt the sudden desire to stomp back out there and kiss Ron smack on the lips. Merlin knew she needed it. Maybe she'd find someone to snog at Ginny's hen party. Suddenly, she needed Ginny. She apparated back to Ginny's house and rushed into Harry and Ginny's living room. Harry and Ginny were on the couch, snogging. Hermione let out a small shriek of disgust as Harry's shirt flew off of him and onto Hermione's head. Harry and Ginny broke apart.
“Bloody... Hermione, what the hell are you doing here?” Harry yelped as Ginny, shooting Hermione a deathly look, scrambled up and put her shirt back on.
“I need to talk to Ginny really quick... by I'm guessing now isn't the best time.”
“Be right there!” Ginny said, righting herself.
“Here.” Hermione said, tossing Harry his shirt.
“Thanks.” he mumbled.
“Hermione, what are you doing here?” Ginny hissed, stumbling out of the living room.
“Why did you pick now to do that?” Hermione groaned, discarding the question.
“Well, we thought that neither you or Ron would be able to bother us, and with him living with us it's really our only time to...”
“Shag?” Hermione said blandly.
“Well, yes.” Ginny whispered.
“Yes, it seems to be on everybody's mind these days. So that's why you're marrying him! You have to make a honest woman of yourself.”
Ginny snorted.
“Oh, you're right, it couldn't be because I love him, that's too simple for a 19 year old.”
“Ginny, are you pregnant?” Hermione asked.
“No!” Ginny cried. “Merlin, Hermione. Why are you HERE?”
“Oh. Because I was thinking about Ron and shagging and snogging and then I sort of needed to talk to you so you could tell me what to do and also teach me how to get up and down without Ron seeing my underwear.”
“You are wearing a nice pair, aren't you?” Ginny asked urgently.
“Ginny!” Hermione said in warning.
“Fine. Hermione, let him see your underwear, it's a turn on, and don't shag my brother. You happy?”
“No!”
But Ginny was already pushing Hermione out of the house. Hermione grudgingly apparated back to the restaurant, fixed her hair and walked back out to Ron.
“Hi.” she said.
“'loo.” Ron said. He was staring at the menu now, looking as though he couldn't believe his eyes.
“'Mione, do they serve anything here that isn't raw fish?”
“No, Ron, that'd be the definition sushi and this is a sushi restaurant.” Hermione said as chills ran up and down her spine from Ron's use of her nickname. Merlin, she loved that nickname.
“Hermione, I hate this place.” Ron groaned. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ah, the reason she'd broken up with Ron. It was whining and moaning in front of her.
“Well, Ron, I think we've finally found a food that you don't like.” Hermione said, trying not to laugh at Ron's babyish antics. When he continued to whine, however, Hermione stood up and grabbed his arm.
“Fine. I'll to you to the cinema and we can eat popcorn for dinner.”
It was amazing how the word popcorn could shut a food-loving person up.
***
30 minutes later, Hermione and Ron were sitting in the movie theater equipped with one large popcorn, two medium sized sodas, and cinnamon flavored pretzels for dessert that Hermione had gotten to shut Ron up.
“Hermione, look, Cinnamon at the Cinnamon!” he'd cried excitedly.
“Cinema, Ron!” Hermione had hissed urgently.
“CINNAMON!” Ron had bellowed gleefully.
“Ron, if I buy you Cinnamon will you shut up?” Hermione had asked as Ron nodded fervently.
“What's this cinnamon about?” Ron asked.
“No idea.” Hermione stated. “All I know is that it's a romantic comedy called 'Thank Heaven'”
“Right.” Ron said, his hand colliding with Hermione's as they both reached for popcorn.
Halfway through the movie Hermione realized this was the worst choice that they possibly could have made. The storyline was absolutely... oh goodness. This was mortifying. And terrible. And, oh merlin, now Ron was snoring. Hermione shook him awake before anyone could hear him and he immediately made a dive for the popcorn, acting as if he'd never fallen asleep. It was revolting and adorable at the same time, sort of like Dobby.
Along with the fact that the movie was the worst choice Hermione could have made, she and Ron kept on bumping hands when reaching for popcorn, and even lips once when Ron accidentally reached for Hermione's soda instead of his. When the movie was over, Hermione tore out of the theater, ran to the nearest bathroom, grabbed her rose and poretkey'd back to the stage. Then she apparated home, cast a spell so Ginny couldn't come and hurled herself onto the bed with a whole bottle of champaign. Cheers to the worst date she'd ever been on in her whole life.
***
“She won't let me in! She's cast every single spell she can over that bloody flat!” Ginny cried.
“Nice.” Harry said grimly.
“Harry!” Ginny cried.
“Sorry. Right.”
“Ron won't talk either?” Ginny asked desperately.
“No, but he looked like he was floating on air.”
“Merlin! What happened?” Ginny wondered aloud. “Usually she doesn't block me out like this when she has good news, but if Ron is happy it can't be bad news, right?”
“Er...” said Harry.
“Oh, that's it!” Ginny said. She hurried up the stairs and blasted the door to Ron's room open.
“RON! Ron, what happened?” Ginny yelled in her most commanding voice.
“Her lips touched mine.” Ron said in a high pitched voice. Harry broke out laughing. Ginny elbowed him in the gut.
“What?” Ginny asked.
“Her lips... they touched mine.”
Ginny froze.
“You mean.. she kissed you?”
“No. Soda.”
“Soda? Did you share a soda, Ron?”
“No, my mistake.”
“Oh, thank merlin, the film footage is here!”
Ginny immediately took it out and watched the film. Hermione flashed the camera countless times (no wonder she was hiding), Ron acted like a 3 year old, Hermione led him to the cinema. The camera showed Ron and Hermione going for the same soda, their fingers brushing, and Hermione's hair growing steadily bushier, her face redder as the film carried on. Ginny and Harry exchanged mortified glances every now and then as they saw Ron and Hermione have countless embarrassing movie moments.
“Ron, what movie did you watch?”
“Thank Heaven.” Ron said dreamily.
“Uhlg.” Ginny rolled her eyes and headed downstairs and out the door.
“Where are you going?” Harry asked her.
“The muggle library.” Ginny called over her shoulder. Harry followed her until they reached the library and Ginny burst through the door. She shoved the muggle out of the way and collapsed into the chair, typing 'Thank Heaven' into the search engine.
“Nice. You're a natural, Gin.” Harry grinned.
“Shut up, Potter.” Ginny said, clicking on a website. A moment later, she'd pulled up the summery. She and Harry were exchanging shocked glances as they read through the explanation of Hermione's anger and mortification. The story was about a man and a woman who had broken up, but they still loved each other, though apparently neither would admit it. Along with that fact, they bickered like an old married couple, the man took care of a old man who turned out to be God and they were match made by him in thanks for the man taking care of him.
“Oh Merlin.” Ginny breathed when she was done.
“Can I have my computer back?” the muggle asked, annoyed.
“Yeah, sure.” Harry said, grabbing Ginny and leading her out of the library.
“It was going to bloody well!” Ginny was muttering under her breath.
“Wow. So, that was a bad movie choice.” Harry said on the way home. “If I were Hermione, I would never show my face in public again.”
“Neither would I, except luckily she has me to make myself miserable.” Ginny said, stomping up the street in the direction of Hermione's house leaving Harry behind, still trying to figure out what she had meant.
A/N: So, not exactly my best chapter, but it was still okay, I think. I have about 23 chapters of the story written right now, and I belive the next chapter has to do with wedding dresses... Reviews are greatly Appreciated
Around two o'clock in the morning three days later, the wards against Ginny went down and Ginny apparated into Hermione's flat screaming bloody murder. Hermione looked up from her bed lazily as Ginny stomped into her bedroom.
“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed when she saw the room. Every surface of it was covered in ice cream, and the voices of ABBA could be heard in the background.
“Hermione I swear I am going to kill you after you clean up this room!”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ginny and slipped back under her covers, yawning.
“Oh, don't you bloody dare go back to bed!” Ginny said, cursing as she vanished all signs of ice cream from the room. She pointed her wand at the blinds and they flew open, then at the covers, which few off of Hermione.
“Get the hell out of bed, Hermione Granger, or else I swear you will regret you were ever born.”
“Too late.” Hermione said blandly, summoning the covers and pulling them back over herself. With a final point of her wand, the blinds had gone back to their original positions.
But Hermione had been kidding herself if she thought Ginny would go down without a huge fight. Next, Ginny banished the covers, the curtains, and Hermione's pillows. After this she turned the volume up on the radio so that ABBA was blasting louder then she had ever heard it.
“HERMIONE, IF YOU'RE NOT SHOWERED AND DRESSED IN TIME FOR MY DRESS FITTING, I'M GOING TO TELL RON THAT YOU CHEATED ON HIM WITH VIKTOR KRUM WHILE YOU WERE DATING!”
“Good, then maybe he'll stay away from me.” Hermione said defiantly.
“Oh? Good? Then I'll also tell his mum. Mrs. Weasley? You remember her.”
“Fine. I'll be showered and dressed.” Hermione said reluctantly. Both girls were silent, listening to the music.
'Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen...'
Hermione's heart nearly stopped at the sound of the words. Painful memories. Memories that were so good she didn't want to relive them.
'Dancing queen, feel the beat on the tambourine, oh yeah! You can dance, you can jiiiive, having the time of your life! Oooohhh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen.'
Hermione loved washing the dishes. It was her time. It really was. That and putting away the laundry. She would crank up her muggle CD player and listen to muggle music while doing her chores. On this particular night, she had put in an 'ABBA' CD, and was dancing gleefully to it while the water ran. She was singing her heart out, even though she really couldn't sing.
She couldn't dance either. She really was terrible. Usually she stuck to swinging her hips while she listened to the music, but today, something was possessing her to dance her heart out. So when 'Dancing Queen' came on, she grabbed a spoon and started singing around the kitchen, yelling her heart out. The worst part was when she got on a chair at the kitchen table and started banging her pot with a second spoon while the other other one floated midair near her mouth. She felt a seconds mortification when she realized what she was doing, but then she decided that it was fine. After all, no one could see her right?
Oh, so very, very wrong.
Hermione jumped off of the chair, but instead of hitting the floor, she stopped mid air in a position resembling one who had been picked up baby style. She looked down but no one was there. It looked as though she was suspended in mid air. She was about to scream, but decided to think it out instead. After all, no one just suspended in mid air. There had to be a reason for it. Had she cast a spell on the house without realizing it? Was this apart of the burglary spell? But what burglar would rob an apartment so early? And why hadn't she seen them? Unless they had an invisibility cloak... of course.
Searching the air blindly, Hermione found a round object that seemed slightly like a head. She slowly grabbed a piece of material, dragged it off, shut her eyes and kissed the round objects lips.
“How'd you get the cloak?” she asked between kisses.
“Harry was out with Ginny, so I stole it.” the culprit said proudly. “That was a very nice display you had going there.”
“Hmm?”
“Dancing...”
“Merlin, how long have you been here?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer.
“Long enough to know that you really can't dance. You should just stick to moving your hips. It's much more of a turn on.”
“Is it, now.” Hermione laughed, getting down from Ron's arms. After shaking her head at him, she turned back to the dishes.
“Can you wash and snog?” Ron asked, brushing back her hair and kissing the hollow of her neck.
“No, so get off.” Hermione said, splashing soapy water at him.
“I see I'm not as irresistible as I used to be.” Ron grinned.
“Yes, you've really lost your touch, Ron. You know there's something wrong when your girlfriend would rather do chores then snog you.” Hermione said with an eye roll.
Ron looked extremely pleased with himself.
“Say it again.” he said.
“You know there's something wrong when your girlfriend would rather...” Hermione started.
“Yeah, you can stop now.”
Hermione shot Ron a quizzical look.
“I love it when you call yourself my girlfriend.”
“You want to know what I think of that?” Hermione asked, as seductively as she could, trying to throw Ron off scent.
“Sure.” Ron said.
Hermione splashed water once again at Ron.
“I think that was the cheesiest thing anyone has ever said to me.” she said in a louder voice. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a small kiss on his lips. “But it was kinda cute.”
Their kiss was interrupted by a large amount of water splashing Hermione's back.
“Ahh!” she screeched.
“Gottcha.” Ron said smugly. But not for long. Hermione splashed him, then he splashed her, and a full on splash war broke out. Hermione, sopping wet, finally threw her hands up in surrender. Ron splashed her in the chest.
“First, you must say that Ronald Bilius Weasley is the most snoggable person you've ever met, and that you'd rather snog him then wash the dishes!”
“No!” Hermione yelled through laughs. “Never!”
“SAY IT!” Ron yelled, splashing her again.
“Okay, okay.” Hermione said breathlessly. “Ronald Bilius Weasley is the most snoggable person I've ever met, and I'd rather snog him then wash the dishes.”
“Very nice.” Ron said, looking smugger yet. “Actions speak louder then words.”
In the middle of their kiss, Hermione broke away.
“Oh! I love this song.” she grinned.
Ron held out his hand to her.
“May I have this dance?” He asked.
“You may.” Hermione told him. They continued where Hermione had left off with 'Dancing Queen', with 'Take a Chance on Me' blaring through the speakers. The dance number that followed included much pot banging, head banging, Spoons, tables and chairs, including Ron, after getting hit in the head by Hermione's flailing hair, falling off of the table and banging his head on his fallen pot. After a final, loud, off key chord sung by Ron and Hermione (a Hagrid-sized clash against ABBA's perfect harmony), the song ended and turned into a slow song. Hermione and Ron, still laughing slightly, slowly rotated in a circle, Ron's chin rested on Hermione's head, Hermione's face buried in the crook of Ron's neck, smelling his soap mixed with a slight amount of cologne. She softly sang the chorus, and Ron frowned.
“This is a sad song.” he pointed out.
“Well spotted.” Hermione said sarcastically. She changed her tone.
“It's about a break-up, but the singer still loves her ex, and she's letting him go because she loves him. I think. She's saying that he's still her love, her life, but she's letting him walk away. Or maybe vice versa. The girls' husbands wrote the music and lyrics.”
“This doesn't really apply to us.”
“No?” Hermione said, looking mildly surprised and intrested.
“I would never let you walk away.” Ron said stubbornly.
“Oh, Ron.” Hermione laughed sadly.
“Would you let me?” Ron asked quietly.
Hermione bit her lip as she thought. Finally she look seriously up at Ron.
“I think it depends on the situation, Ron.” she told him. Ron nodded and leaned down.
“Don't let me walk away. Please.” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Hermione shook her head.
“I can't promise you anything of that sort, Ron. I'm sorry. Neither of us know what the future will bring.”
“I can tell you what I want it to bring.” Ron said.
“And what's that?” Hermione said interestedly.
He leaned down as if he were about to tell her an important secret and whispered in her ear,
“I want to call you Dancing Queen.”
Hermione let out a short laugh.
“There's no way, Ron.” She said, shaking her head. Their serious conversation suddenly turned playful as the song changed back to the first track. “You can call me love when you think the time is right, but not Dancing Queen.”
“Fine then, love.” Ron said. If Ron hadn't been holding her as tightly as he was Hermione might have melted to the floor right then and there.
She loved that memory. Loved it so much. It was at one of her favorite stages of their relationship, one where they didn't fight, one where they could flirt and be who they were at the same time. One that included a lot of both snogging and talking. Hermine's shoulders were shaking. She was trying not to cry. Trying as hard as she could. But ever since she had lost Ron, her willpower wasn't all that good anymore. Maybe he was what fueled her for all those years, or maybe loosing him had shaken the fight out of her. It didn't matter what it was, loosing him had made her feel like a rag doll, empty, plain... unless she was saying his name. When she said his name, the feeling came back multiplied a thousand times by a thousand different feelings.
Finally, the floodgates opened. Oh, curse hormones. The world would be so much better without them.
“Hermione... are you crying?” asked Ginny incredulously, looking at her friend like she was seeing her for the first time that day. For, indeed, Ginny had failed to notice the exhausted bags under Hermione's eyes, the tear treks down her cheeks, her wet eyelashes and the way her lips pointed down, and her eyes squinted, like she couldn't bear to open them fully. “Oh, Hermione. What's wrong? Did I make you cry by yelling at you?” Ginny asked.
“No!” Hermione said through the salty tears.
“Are you upset because of the embarrassing date? Because, believe me, you have every reason to be. That was bloody embarrassing.”
“NO!” Hermione cried, sobbing harder now. “I'm crying because of...” she could say it. She could say it. She was not going to let her feelings get in the way of saying his name. It was just a name. Just a name. Fear in a name only creates fear in the person himself... or whatever that saying was. Hermione didn't bother checking her facts. She just didn't care anymore. “RON!” she screamed, then clutched a pillow to her mouth, looking very much like a shocked 5 year old that had just found out how babies were made.
Ginny suppressed the urge to laugh; she knew that it had taken Hermione a lot of courage to say it. When Harry had been gone, Ginny hadn't been able to say his name at first. Every time she did, her stomach would turn over, her mind would go fuzzy, and she'd feel like a thousand dementors had swooped upon her and were sucking the life and soul out of her. She gently pointed this out to Hermione, who lowered the pillow, permitted a shaky laugh to escape from her lips, then played with a loose thread on her comforter.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Hermione said, shaking her head and smiling to herself at the ridiculousness of it all. “I think I'll go take a shower.” she said, and Ginny nodded, know that Hermione did not want to talk about feelings right now. She padded out of the room and over to the kitchen to make Hermione breakfast, eggs, toast and bacon. Nothing sugary or bad for you, because Merlin knew that Hermione had eaten enough junk over the past few days. She was probably triple-chocolate-ice creamed-out. Come to think of it, she was probably out of triple chocolate ice cream, too.
But when Ginny opened the freezer to check, she found it packed full. With nothing at all but triple chocolate ice cream. Ginny pulled a carton out, then another, then another to take home for Harry and herself, and also to lighten up Hermione's load. But as she pulled more and more ice cream tubs out, she realized that Hermione had cast a spell of the freezer to make it automatically refill itself whenever she pulled a carton out.
“Very nice.” Ginny thought to herself, and she made a fun game out of trying to empty the freezer until Hermione got out of the shower.
***
Hermione let the water beat down on her back, willing herself not to let any memories come to her about her and Ron. Luckily, nothing shower-related had anything to do with him. Which was good. Because Hermione didn't think she could handle re-living another memory. Although she had many of them, she felt as though she might explode if she even pictured another one. She squeezed another squirt of shampoo onto her palm and gently massaged it into her hair. Mmm. She loved that smell. It might have been her favorite scent in the world, beside that of parchment, freshly mowed grass, and the mix of Ron's soap and cologne. She remembered the amortentia potion, and the scents she had smelled in it.
She hadn't discovered this shampoo then, so that was probably why she hadn't smelled it. Because this scent defined her. It was her. It was just so perfect, so Hermione-like, that she just had to use it. She didn't think she'd ever stop using it. She wondered if Ron had smelled her in the potion, as she'd smelled him. She also wondered whether he stilled loved the smell. She remembered how he'd went to the store and gotten her shampoo. Smirking slightly, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel as she went. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she dried her hair off with her wand and stepped into a pair of jeans and a fitted brown shirt. Then she headed into the kitchen.
“Thanks for breakfast, Ginny.” she said, smiling at her friend.
“Welcome.” Ginny said, trying not to think of the 249 cartons of ice cream she'd sent to her house when she heard Hermione stepping out of the shower.
“Here, you can take some triple chocolate ice cream out of the freezer if you want.” Hermione added, looking as though a light bulb had went off in her head. “I have an unlimited supply.
“Er- that's okay, I really don't need anymore.” Ginny said.
“No, no, I insist. Take as much as you need, and then some.”
“Oh no, I really...”
“Ginny... take the bloody ice cream!” Hermione said forcefully. Ginny gave her a weak smile and reached into the freezer to grab more ice cream.
***
“So, this is like the posh part of wizarding London?” Hermione asked curiously, looking around the alley with great interest.
“Yes.” Ginny said, hurrying Hermione along impatiently. “It's where Harry would have gotten my engagement ring, except he found one in his parents' Gringotts vault. He's pretty sure his parents knew they were going to die and wanted to at least keep some things safe so they could be passed on. If we have any sons, I'm fairly certain that this ring will be used by them when they are ready to propose.”
“What if it's not off of your finger yet?” Hermione asked. Ginny, however, shrugged.
“No matter. I'll be an old hag by then. I won't need diamonds. Look, there she is.” Ginny said, pointing at her mum, who was standing in front of a small cafe.
“Hello, Ginny, love!” Mrs. Weasley said, giving her daughter a deathly tight hug.
“Hi, mum.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes at Hermione over her mother's shoulder. Hermione gave her a look that clearly said 'Behave yourself. Not everyone is as lucky as you are, you know'.
“You missed dinner last Sunday!” Mrs. Weasley admonished, holding her daughter at arms length.
“Sorry. We meant to go, but we got a bit distracted.” Ginny said, blushing.
“Of course, dear. Believe me, I know how it is to miss things when you're distracted.”
Ginny shot Hermione a disgusted look, which Hermione, looking quite wide- eyed, laughed at. At Hermione's laugh, Mrs. Weasley turned around. Hermione expected a tight-lipped nod, or even an unfriendly hug or handshake, but nothing could have prepared her for what was happening now. Mrs. Weasley had lunged herself at Hermine and was hugging her just as hard- if not harder- as she had hugged Ginny. At first Hermione thought Mrs. Weasley was trying to strangle her (and from the look on Ginny's face, she thought so too). She half expected Mrs. Weasley to jumped back and say 'that was from Ron'. What she didn't expect Mrs. Weasley to say was that Hermione had been avoiding her, and why hadn't she come around before?
“Oh.” Hermione said, feeling flustered and shocked. “I... I guess I thought I wasn't welcome.”
“Oh, really, dear, just because you and Ron aren't making googly eyes at each other over the table? You'll always be welcome in our home.”
“Thank you.” Hermione said, feeling as though a large weight had been lifted off of her stomach.
Unfortunately, it was only one.
“So, what've you girls been up to?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Ginny peered over her mother's shoulder, looking anxious to get going.
“Er, this and that.” she said, standing on her tip-toes.
“Ginny is saying that she's going to be giving her engagement ring to the first child that proposes. She claims that by then she'll be an old hag and won't need any jewelry.” Hermione said in an unintentionally arrogant voice, as though she was glad to be tattling on Ginny.
Mrs. Weasley steered Ginny, who was wandering off in the wrong direction, strait again.
“You never know, Ginny.” she said, walking briskly and quickly, so that Hermione and Ginny had to jog to keep up. They shot each other shocked looks at how agile the elder woman was. “I want to die with my engagement ring on my finger. C'mon, you two slow pokes.”
“Mum, you're so fit!” Ginny gasped. “How the bloody-”
“Language, Ginevra.”
“-hell can you even be thinking about death?”
“I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore, Ginny.” Mrs. Weasley helpfully pointed out. Hermione saw Ginny restrain herself from rolling her eyes, then give up and let them loose. “Besides, I've had seven children, of course I'm fit, wouldn't you be? Ah, here we are.” Mrs. Weasley said gleefully, pushing the door to a small but cozy looking bridal shop open.
“Hello!” she called.
“One minute, please.” said a voice from deeper inside. Then a short, plump, aging woman with warm blue eyes and white hair walked out from the back, saw Mrs. Weasley, and threw her arms around her.
“Oh, Betty, it's lovely to see you!” Mrs. Weasley said warmly.
“Great to see you, too.” Betty grinned. “I hear you produced seven.”
“You heard right.”
“Ahhh, you beat me by 3. I only got 4 of 'em out before my husband left me.”
“Oh, Betty, he didn't!”
“He did.”
Mrs. Weasley tutted.
“Cliff was always so nice at school.”
“Yes, but he turned into a right pain in the arse once he'd left it. This one of yours?” Betty asked, pointing to Ginny, who was looking throughly horrified at the conversation.
“Yes, it is. Oh, where are my manors? Betty, this is my daughter, Ginevra-”
“Ginny, if you please.” Ginny said politely, glaring at her mother all the while.
“-and her best friend, Hermione. Ginny, Hermione, this is my best friend from school, Elizabeth Bennington.”
“Aw, tush, they call me Betty.”
A/N: Hello, everyone! How did you like this chapter? I sort of lied... the next chapter has wedding dresses in it. Surprise! Sorry about the abrupt ending. The chapter was origionally 6216 words, so I cut it in half and this is what we got. Did you like the memory? It's one of my favorites out of all the memories I've written. GIANT DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ABBA, MAMMA MIA OR ANY OF THE LYRICS MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER! Nor do I own Harry Potter. Thanks to everyone for the wonderful review's I've been getting! Please keep it up. Love and cyber hugs ~writergirl8
“Nice to meet you, Betty Bennington.” Ginny said, chuckling slightly.
“Oh, you are a one.” Betty said. “I wouldn't like to be the subject when you two get into a fight.” she gestured to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione nodded in agreement. “You're just like your mum used to be, you are.”
“She's a little more mouthy then I'd like...”
“Blimey, Molly, what the blooming hell do you expect? She's been raised by seven brothers!”
Hermione expected Mrs. Weasley's lips to tighten in disapproval, but instead she laughed and gave Betty's arm a slight punch. Ginny looked revolted.
“Shall we get started?” Betty asked suddenly.
“Of course.” Mrs. Weasley said, and Betty, after tapping both Hermione and Ginny on the shoulder with her wand, then writing some figures on a piece of paper (the spell felt like a string going up Hermione's dress all the way to her head so she supposed this was Betty's way of getting their measurements), led them into a small, cozy sitting room. As they sat down, Ginny hissed in Hermione's ear,
“Uhlg, my mum had a life!” and Hermione had to let out a small laugh.
The room was very nice, a large fireplace (even though the weather was quite warm as Ginny wanted an August wedding) with four plush purple armchairs placed around it, with a tea table between each of the armchairs. Hermione and Ginny shared one, as they chose the seats closest to the door, and Mrs. Weasley and Betty took the other set, chatting and laughing as they sat down. Hermione caught small stitches of 'oh, merlin, I can't believe my baby girl is finally getting married' and 'plenty more time now that the nest is empty, eh, Molly?'. In response to this, however, Mrs. Weasley shook her head.
“No, not yet. Ron's not married.”
“Engaged?” Betty asked, and Mrs. Weasley once again shook her head.
“Dating?”
“Well...” Mrs. Weasley snuck a glance at Hermione and made a little cutting motion beneath her ribcage. “it's complicated.”
Betty nodded knowingly, took out a sketch pad and turned to Ginny.
“So.” she said. “tell me about you and Harry.”
For the next hour, Ginny told Betty about Harry and herself, showing off the ring, a medium sized diamond set between two smaller ones, and adding memories to the pensive to show Betty, and telling the older woman about Harry, herself, and the wedding. Finally, when Ginny had run out of things to say, Betty put her sketch pad down, measured Ginny, and asked them to come back in two hours. The girls set out for the lingerie store, laughing as they planned out Ginny's wedding night. Ginny finally gave up and bought everything she could afford after Hermione tried to prod her into buying a corset that wouldn't come off for anyone but the wearer. Then, she turned to Hermione and said
“You. Pick something out. Now.”
“What! No!” Hermione said, looking shocked.
“Do it. On me.” Ginny said.
“Absolutely not.”
“I'm not letting you remain a virgin your whole life!”
“Yeah, but by the time I fall in love again I won't be fit enough to wear this.”
“So do it with Ron.”
“I'm not with him right now, in case you haven't noticed.”
“Then do it with someone you meet at my bacheloret party.” Ginny said.
“Ew. No.” Hermione said.
“This!” Ginny said, picking out a lacy lavender slip dress with a lacy bra and underwear set in dark purple to go under it.
“Why lavender?” Hermione asked helplessly as Ginny stomped up to the counter and paid.
“Because he said on the game show that he likes you in lavender.” Ginny pointed out, grabbing a perfume and sniffing it.
“Mmmm. Smells good. And it's edible.” she got another bottle and paid for both of those too.
“Ginny, how are you affording all this?”
“Hello. Professional Quidditch player here!” Ginny said. “Fiancé of Harry Potter. Need I say more?”
“Well... we don't like the same scents. You take both bottles.”
“Don't worry.” Ginny said. “I got a flowery one for myself and vanilla cinnamon for you. You'll be eating it off of yourself... I wonder if they have matching lip gloss? Merlin, they do!” and Ginny marched back up to the counter, paid for those, shoved a bag in Hermione's hand and led her back to the wedding dress shop.
First, Betty had Hermione try on her dress. Luna had been to the shop a few days earlier to try on hers, and now it was Hermione's turn.
The Maid of Honor dress looked as though Betty had taken a few different pieces of a silky, satin, dark purple ribbon and sewn them on top of each other until the string of ribbons was long enough to reach just above Hermione's knees. In the middle of the dress, Betty had fastened a patine leather belt, thin, but noticeable, just enough to make the dress fancy and to show off Hermione's shape.
“Er- I think it's too small.” Hermione said, looking at her full figure in the mirror.
“Nonsense.” Betty said.
“What makes you say that, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.
“Well, one, I can't breathe, and two, it looks too tight.”
“Hermione, live a little.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Now stop being such an attention hog, I love it, it's my wedding and I want to see my dress.”
Hermione took off the dress and gave it back to Betty, then sighed, knowing she was going to be forced into wearing black stiletto heels to match the belt. She was shaken by her thoughts, however, by Ginny letting out a squeal of delight as she disappeared behind a curtain. When she emerged, she was wearing a beautiful white dress.
The dress turned out to be perfect. It was a corset top with beads and flowers embroidered on it, then a skirt that separated into three parts. The two on the edge were the same as the corset, beads, flowers, pure white, not a crease to be found. The middle was layers and layers of white sheen fabric with little beads sewed on, layered so much that you could not see a square inch of Ginny's leg. The top of the dress melded perfectly to Ginny's body; she looked more beautiful then Hermione had ever seen her, her pale skin glowing with anticipation.
“Oh, Ginny, it's beautiful.” Hermione breathed, touching a piece of fabric. For the first time since the wedding was announced, Hermione felt a stab of jealousy, not because Ginny was marrying Harry, but because she had what Hermione wasn't sure she would ever posses.
“Thank you. I know. It is beautiful.” Ginny said, looking as though she couldn't speak. Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, burst into tears and started fussing over Ginny's dress. Hermione slunk quietly out of the door, wanting to give them a moment. She hid behind a wall and watched them, her heart in her stomach. She wondered if that would ever be her. If it was, would it be to the right man, or a cover one, one that was second best but would just have to do.
A tap on her shoulder interrupted her from her thoughts.
“Would you like one?” Betty asked quietly. Hermione whirled around.
“One what?” she asked, confused.
“A wedding dress.”
“Yes. Well, someday.” Hermione said.
“I can design you one. Now.” Betty told her. “you love someone, don't you?”
“Yes, but I can't marry him.” Hermione said, sounding a bit like a child.
“Why not?”
“It's complicated.”
“I have time.” Betty said simply, setting herself down on a couch and taking her note pad. Hermione reluctantly sat down, sitting ridged and resting on the edge of her chair, unlike the first time, when she'd sunk in to it.
“Who are you?” Betty asked. The question seemed simple enough, but Hermione knew what it meant.
“I am Hermione Jean Granger. I am a lover of books, studies, and freshly mown grass. My shampoo is vanilla and cinnamon scented.” Hermione stomach contracted at the word cinnamon, but she plowed on. “I am rotten at love. I work at the ministry of magic in the law department. I put work in front of relationships and lost the only man I ever loved.” Hermione said the last part angrily, and she resolved herself not to cry. She was sick and tired of crying all the time. It was such a waste.
“Who is he?” Betty asked quietly, sensing her sadness. Her fingers were flying across her sketchpad.
Hermione took a breath.
“Ron Weasley. Red hair, freckles, loopsided smile, my best friend since first year.”
Betty let out a low whistle.
“And here's where the complications start. Tell me about you two.”
“We met on the Hogwarts Express. I was look for a boy's toad, and Ron was trying to do magic, a spell that his mischievous twin brothers had taught him. It was a bad spell, and it didn't work. After that, I did a spell to show him how it was done. I was a bitch, really. A bit of a snob, a know-it-all. All I wanted to do was prove myself worthy, that I was good enough to go to Hogwarts, even though I was muggle born.” Hermione said with a slight gleam in her eye. “But instead, I just made Ron hate me.” she let out a small laugh. “Then, one day after class, he insulted me, and I ran to the girls' toilet. But the problem was, there was a troll loose in the castle. Harry and Ron saved me from it.”
“Harry Potter?” Betty asked, scribbling furiously. Hermione nodded. “Continue, please.” Betty said.
“After that, we became friends. I was too young to realize it, but my friendship with Harry was always more comfortable then it was with Ron. George later said that with Ron there was sexual tension, while Harry was like a brother.” Hermione laughed again, shaking her head. “I don't know about sexual tension, but I do know I was intrigued by Ron. He was different, not like all the other boys, yet still obnoxious. Most of them were. Harry was nice and polite, but that was because he was used to that. He got rather mouthy in 5th year. He was so angry that year...
“Ron and I continued to have a love-hate relationship throughout Hogwarts. I'm not exactly sure when I realized I liked him as more then just a friend, although when I did I knew it had been coming on for a while. I think he realized it in 4th year, when Viktor Krum asked me out. He was jealous, I think. But he didn't do anything about it. Not until 6th year. Ginny told him that I snogged Viktor Krum, and he started going out with a girl named Lavender Brown to make me jealous. It worked. I was angry But then, the next year still, something changed. He started being nicer, sending compliments...”
“That would be because of a book Fred and George gave him, 'Twelve fail-safe ways to Charm Witches'.” somewhere in the middle of Hermione's speech, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had entered the room and were watching the conversation. Now Ginny spoke again. “He knew he liked you, but he didn't know how to get it started.”
“So then, in the middle of our hunt with Harry...” Hermione paused to see if Betty would ask about the hunt, but instead she continued to sketch on that notepad, humming softly to herself. “in the middle of the hunt Ron left us. I screamed his name but he wouldn't come back. I cried for weeks. When he finally did come back, I was so angry I started to punch him.” Hermione's eyes gleamed mischievously.
“She does have a bad side.” Ginny smirked to her mother. Mrs. Weasley shushed her and went back to listening to Hermione with a dreamy expression across her features and a misty quality to her eyes.
“Our reunion was sort of cut short when we were captured and taken to the Malfoy home. I was tortured for information by Bellatrix Lestrange. I was about to give up, to let the curse kill me, I couldn't stay strong. Then I heard his voice, screaming my name over and over. And I fought. I fought it as hard as I could. I was eventually knocked out, but everyone was shocked I stayed around for so long. All because of his voice.
“Then, the final battle at Hogwarts. He suggested that we tell the house elves to get out of Hogwarts so they wouldn't get killed. And I kissed him. It was our first kiss. It was so amazing, and everything seemed to fall into place. You can't imagine how I felt when I realized he was kissing me back. During the war, I was so afraid of loosing him. I felt as though I wouldn't be able to get out of bed every morning if there was no Ron to yell at or talk to or even be with, to know that he was somewhere in the world, breathing, thinking... alive. I still feel like that sometimes. When we thought Harry was dead, he put his arms around me to steady me, and it felt so good. I think, somewhere inside of me, I knew Harry wasn't dead. But still, the words were just so terrible. Then he was fine, the war was over. Ron and I met up in an empty classroom and we talked the kiss over. Decided it meant something, and that we felt something for each other. We went out for two thrilling years, and then he asked me to move in with him. But when I got the Robinson case at work, I had to stop spending time with him to do research. He started drinking. We fell apart. Then Ginny put us on a game show, and now I'm trying to gather my wits and make sense of things. On live television. And that's that.”
Betty added a few more lines to the drawing. Then, she slowly turned it around. The dress was pure white. In the middle of the skirt, elegantly pulling two sides of the skirt together was a pearl. The skirt fell silkily down Hermione's drawn form, poofing out enough not to be skin tight, and leaving a little shimmering train. The dress had spaghetti straps, and it was so silky it was almost shimmering all the different colors of the rainbow whenever drawn Hermione moved.
“I have it as a pearl right now.” Betty said when she noticed where Hermione's eyes had reached. “But you can change it.”
“A sapphire.” Hermione said quietly. “It's my birthstone. And it matches his eyes.”
No one had to ask who 'he' was. Betty waved her wand and the gemstone changed. She waved it again and another sketch identical to the first appeared in her hand.
“Tell me when you need it.” she said.
“I don't think I ever will.” Hermione said.
“Oh, you will.”Betty replied confidently.
Hello everyone! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season. I know this update is really fast (probably too fast) but I wanted to have a final update before the que closed for Christmas. Sadly, I might have to put a Christmas part (way) later into the story, because right now it's about July and I'm in October or November at the place in the story I'm working on. I'm actually in the middle of writing chapter 29, and I can tell you that in December something big happens. Cyber cookies to anyone who guesses! Just a note, I know it says that Hermione is 20 but she's actually 21. I didn't know Ginny's birthday before, but seeing as she's turning 20 to get married that's the way it actually has to be. I hope you all have a great holiday, and I'll see you all next year (if not before). As always, ~writergirl8
“Isn't it exciting?”
Ron burst into Hermione dressing room the day of the fourth date looking as though he was about to blow if he didn't tell someone.
“Is what exciting?” Hermione asked, jumping up. She was feeling nervous because Ginny hadn't been able to get the information for the date and Hermione now had no idea what to wear.
“We're going to Italy to see the leaning tower of pizza, then then we're going to eat some of it!”
Hermione frowned, confused.
“We're going to eat the leaning tower of Pisa?”
“Yes!” Ron said, thrilled. “I love pizza, and now I'm eating it off of a building.” he sighed in anticipation.
“Oh! No, Ron, we're going to see the leaning tower of Pisa, and then we are going to eat pizza.”
“Exactly...” Ron said.
“Ron- Pisa, pizza, Pisa, pizza. Pisa is a place.”
Ron's face fell.
“You mean we're not going to eat pizza off of a building?” he asked, looking disappointed.
“No, Ron.” Hermione said, laughing and shaking her head. “We're not. But we will be eating actual pizza. Just not off of a building.”
For a single, glorious moment, the break-up had never happened. Ron and Hermione were still together, laughing, and teasing each other about pronunciations. Hermione was about to hug Ron when the door burst open. In entered Ginny, along with (unfortunately) reality.
“Italy!” Hermione and Ginny said in unison, then laughed.
“So, I was thinking you should wear this navy shirt I found at... Ronald Weasley, what in merlin's name are you doing in this dressing room?”
“I was discussing Pizza with Hermione.” he said, glancing over at his ex with a lopsided grin on his face. Ginny looked oddly at Ron and Hermione for a few seconds, then shook her head and told Hermione that she was going to the muggle mall to find her an outfit and that she would be right back. Hermione nodded as Ginny left the room. Ron stared at her. She was determinedly avoiding his face, looking everywhere else. Her features were surprised, embarrassed, shocked... she looked as though she regretted the laughing attitude she'd had a few minutes earlier. Curse Ginny. Ron had seen Hermione almost hug him earlier, he felt as though that might result in a kiss, and then maybe, just maybe, he could get off of this bloody game show. Hermione looked like she wanted to hit someone and cry at the same time. Ron bit his lip. He knew Hermione would probably slug him if he asked, but it couldn't be helped.
“Are you alright?” he asked quickly.
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, looking up at him with an amazed expression on her face and then quickly glancing back down.
“Well, you seem kinda... confused? Angry? Sad?”
“Good for you, Ronald, always the perceptive one.” Hermione said in return. She sighed heavily and sat down on the couch.
“Hermione, let me in. Please.” Ron said, sitting down next to her and looking earnestly into her face.
“I can't.” Hermione said.
“Tell me how you feel, what you're thinking, anything!” Ron said.
“Merlin, Ronald, would you just leave me alone!” to Hermione's surprise, she didn't feel like crying at all. Instead, anger was surging through her veins. She felt as though if she had any more she would burst. Ron got up slowly from the couch and started to leave the room.
“You want to know what I feel?” Hermione said, jumping up. “You want to know what I really think? I wish that this had never happened. No, no wait. I wish I'd never met you, never fallen for you, never moved in with you, and never heard the name Ron-bloody-Weasley, because I get the most terrible feeling in my stomach every time I hear those infuriating words! I wish you, Ron, had never entered my life, because then I wouldn't be on this bloody game show and I never would have gotten my heart broken! Do you know how much easier my life would have been without you?” she asked hysterically.
Ron looked at Hermione, his face white. Hermione held her hands up to her face, then brought them down, squeezing her lips angrily together.
“Alg... just GO!” she said finally when he didn't answer, spitting the words out distastefully as though they'd been burning her tongue. So Ron left.
***
“She's so moody, Harry!” Ron moaned. He was pacing in his dressing room, his hands on his head, pulling on fistfuls of hair.
“Well, all women are moody at some point in there life, I reckon.” Harry said, trying to mask a grin for a sorry grimace. Luckily, he didn't have to. Ron was paying absolutely no attention to his best friend, he was too busy thinking about his other, more annoying friend that he also happened to be deeply in love with. Merlin, why did life have to be so frigging complicated? After he hit 14 it just became a whirlwind. What exactly had happened when he was 14? Ah, right. He'd realized he liked Hermione and Viktor Krum asked her out. That was it! This was all Viktor Krum's fault!
“I blame it all on Viktor Krum, mate.” Ron said. “If he hadn't just pranced into Hogwarts and asked my girlfriend out, this never would have happened.”
Harry didn't want to be on the receiving end of a good curse, but he felt it was inevitable to point out the obvious.
“Er, Ron, you weren't going out with Hermione at the time. In fact, I'm not even sure if you'd realized she was a girl yet.”
Ron turned around, as if noticing Harry for the first time.
“Of course I knew she was a girl!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air at the daftness of his friend. Harry gave him a look.
“I really loath it when you're right, d' you know that?”
“Yeah, actually, I do.” Harry said. “Listen, mate, maybe there's something you can say to make her more... I dunno- cheerful? To make this date easier on the both of you.”
Harry could almost see the light bulb springing over Ron's head.
“W-what?” he asked, a dreadful feeling in his stomach.
“Cheerful.” Ron said, a glint in his eye. He turned around and threw open the door.
“Ron, where're you going?” Harry shouted down the corridor.
“Loo!” Ron called back to him as he past right by the bathrooms.
Right. Nice to know he was telling the truth for once.
***
Ron ran down the hallway, then darted between two carts full of costumes for the show.
“Priscilla!” Ginny's voice called. Ron dived into the clothes, hoping his sister wouldn't see him. “Priscilla, would you mind taking these skinny jeans into Hermione's dressing room?”
“Not at all.” the woman said, taking the jeans from Ginny.
“Thanks.” Ginny said. “hey- do you see Ron anywhere?”
“No, why?” the other asked.
“Well, I can smell his cologne... I think he overdid it because he was so nervous. Oh, maybe he just left a trail as he walked down the hall to go see Hermione earlier.”
“Maybe.” said the witch doubtfully.
“Bye then, nice to see you.” Ginny said, giving the woman a little wave and walking down the hall towards Colin's office. Ron felt a lurch as the woman started pushing the cart forward.
“Morning, Priscilla.” said a man's voice.
“Morning, Denny. Merlin, I don't know what they're putting on the carts these days but they're getting heavier and heavier... I can barely push this one!”
“Too bad, Prissy.” the man teased sympathetically. “Hey, maybe we can go get coffee later and I can teach you how to make the carriages weigh less?”
Oh, merlin, stop flirting and PUSH THE CART! Ron thought to himself.
“I'd like that.” the witch agreed, and the cart moved forward once more. Ron felt himself being carried into Hermione's dressing room. He bit his lip is excitement. He didn't need to over do it, just a tiny bit and Hermione would be much better company for the rest of the date. In fact, she might even be in such a good mood she would kiss Ron at the end of the night... Ron shivered at the thought. No one had kissed him since Alyssa, and even then it wasn't a good kiss. Well, physically it was good but emotionally he'd been so terrified he hadn't been able to enjoy it. Besides, it was nothing like the way he felt when Hermione kissed him. Ron felt as though it wasn't worth the trouble.
“Hello, Ms. Granger. Ms. Weasley has sent some skinny jeans for you.”
“Yippee.” Hermione said, sounding annoyed. “A terrible outfit for a seemingly terrible date. I do hate skinny jeans.” Hermione looked up. “I'm sorry. Thank you.” she said graciously, getting up from the couch and taking the jeans from the woman. Well, now was the time. Ron had a perfect aim at Hermione. Stomach fluttering in anticipation, Ron took his wand out and muttered the words 'noceo ridaciare!'
Hermione's facial expression changed immediately. She looked ecstatic.
“Ms. Granger, your rose is here.”
“Oh, Ben, thank you so much!” Hermione said gleefully, rushing over to the rose and sniffing it. “Ooohh, it's prefect, Ben. You're brilliant.” she gave him a hug.
“Er- thank you.”
A flustered Ben backed out of the room.
“Well, have fun on your date Ms. Granger.” Priscilla said, giving Hermione a knowing look.
“Ohh, I will!” Hermione said gleefully. “I do love skinny jeans, after all. I can't wait to see Ron, I wonder where he is?”
“Did someone just say 'I can't wait to see Ron'?” Ginny asked, coming into the room.
“Ginny!” Hermione cried, rushing over to her best friend. “oh, it's wonderful to see you again. Brilliant choice on the skinny jeans, Gin-zee.”
“You hate skinny jeans!” Ginny said, frowning. “and I hate being called Gin-Zee”
“Oh, how can anyone hate anything on such a gorgie day?” Hermione asked dreamily, doing a pirouette. “Oh what a beautiful mooorrrrrnniinnnggg!” she sang in a terrible soprano voice.
Oh Merlin. Ron may have gone a little overboard with the cheering charm.
***
“You put a cheering charm on her?” Ginny shrieked 20 minutes later.
“Er, yes.” Ron said.
“And you overdid the cheering charm, I suppose?” Harry said, frowning.
“Er, also yes.” Ron said again.
Ginny swore.
“Ron, that's THIRD YEAR MAGIC! You couldn't do THIRD YEAR MAGIC properly?”
“I guess not.” Ron said, feeling slightly angry at his sister's lack of confidence in his magical ability. Then again, he hadn't exactly earned it. He hadn't been able to do a cheering charm right. Flictwick would kill him if he knew.
Harry meanwhile, looked as though he couldn't decide to laugh or yell. He finally decided to laugh, and an amused grin spread across his face.
“Well, I guess this is as close to a drunk Hermione as we'll ever get.”
Ginny rounded on her fiancée.
“You think this is funny?!” she cried.
“Gin, it'll make ratings go way up.” Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.
“Harry, this is a mess! We can't cancel the date, because if we ask them to we'll have to tell them that Ron cast a charm on Hermione without her permission and that is against the shows guidelines, which he signed, so he could get in trouble. And I highly doubt they'll believe us if we say that he was trying to help the ratings, when it's extremely obvious that he was trying to help himself. But if we let Hermione go on the date like this, she'll embarrass herself in front of the whole world. Not pleasant. And as far as I know, there's no counter-charm for a cheering charm. It just has to wear off. And judging on how cheerful Hermione is, I-”
The door burst open, and in pranced Hermione. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“Harry!” she cried. “How marvelous to see you!” she pulled him and Ginny into a group hug. She turned around.
“Ron!” she nearly shouted. Ron braced himself for the angry screams that were usually shot in his direction, but instead Hermione said “you look simply fetching!” before giving him a kiss smack on the lips. When she pulled back, Ron had the silliest grin anyone had even seen on his face. Harry and Ginny were falling over each other in silent peals of laughter. Finally, Ginny finished her sentence.
“-don't think the charm is going to wear off any time soon.”
Hermione beamed at Ginny as she reached up to kiss Ron again.
***
A half hour later, Hermione, clad in skinny jeans, a white, button up, eyelet-type shirt, and a gold belt hanging around her hips, was pulling Ron towards the nearest bar.
“Hermione- maybe this isn't such a good idea...” Ron said reluctantly.
“Of course it is!” Hermione exclaimed. “Live a little, won-won.”
Ron winced at the use of his former nickname, but didn't say anything.
“A firewhiskey, please.” Hermione said, bounding up to the counter like a little girl.
“Hermione-”
“Shut it, Ron, I'm 21, I can drink.”
“But-”
“Shut up!”
Hermione said all this with such a good-natured look on her face Ron felt as though he had to back down. She downed the shot she was given, then ordered another. And another.
“That's the limit!” Ron said after two, but Hermione kept on drinking. Finally, Ron managed to pull her away with the promise of pizza. Hermione reluctantly agreed and allowed Ron to pull her towards the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
Ron knew that if Hermione had been in her right state of mind, she would have been thrilled to be going to the leaning tower of Pisa. Unfortunately, and because of Ron, she wasn't in her right state of mind, and therefor couldn't enjoy it. Ron made a vow to bring Hermione to the tower if they ever did get back together. Meanwhile, he had a more pressing matter on his hands.
“PIZZA!” Hermione was yelling happily. “PPPIIIIIIZZZZZZAAAA!”
“Stop it, Hermione!” Ron hissed.
“No, no, no, no, NO!” Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head like a wet dog. “you stop it!”
Ron made a face, but kept on pulling her. He had a feeling this was not the impression Hermione wanted to make on Italy.
“Ronnie-poo?” Hermione said. “Are we going to eat pizza off of the leaning tower of pizza, or is it just there for show?”
“Er- it's Pisa, Hermione.”
“I know that, silly.” Hermione laughed and slapped Ron playfully in the arm. “the Leaning Tower of pizza! But my question is, are we going to be eating the pizza off of the building or not?”
“No, Hermione, it's just there for show.” Ron said, already looking tired.
“Oh, Ronikinz, you're so smart!” Hermione giggled gleefully. Then she wriggled free from Ron's grip and started skipping down the road.
“LEANING TOWER OF PIZZA! LEANING TOWER OF PIZZA!” she sang as she ran, still giggling. People turned to look at her.
“It's PISA!” one brave tourist called to her.
“I KNOW!” Hermione called back, starting to sing a Celestina Warbeck song Ron didn't know, since he hated the damn singer. Finally, they reached the tower. Ron looked thrilled to have Hermione out of his hair as she skipped closer and inspected the tower serenly.
“Alrighty, then.” Ron said after a few moments of this behavior. “Time to go.”
“It's doesn't look like pizza.” Hermione said, frowning as he turned around. The next think Ron knew, Hermione had said “Accio tower of Pisa!”
When he turned around, the whole tower had fallen down, and Hermione was holding a large chunk in her hand.
Ron screamed, and everyone turned to him. He realized that, although his accidental scream had turned everyone's attention away from the tower, he had no idea what to do next.
Henceforth, Ron did the first thing that came to mind.
“LOOK! IT'S HARRY POTTER!” he yelled, pointing a shaking finger away from the tower. As soon as everyone turned, chanting Harry's name excitedly, Ron ran back to Hermione.
“Listen, you have to put it back!” he said urgently, tugging on her shirt sleeve. Hermione gave him a look, obviously thinking he was crazy. “You have to put it back!” Ron cried hysterically. “Before they all turn around.”
Hermione gave Ron a mischievous grin, one that he usually adored, but one that he now couldn't stand.
“If I put the tower back, will you give me a kiss?”
“Yes, yes, I'll do anything, YES!” Ron pleaded.
“Okay.” she said cheerily, putting the tower right.
Ron looked over at the still distracted crowd.
“Oh, never mind, it was a costume!” Ron said to the crowd. They all groaned. Ron turned back to Hermione to tell her it was time to go.
“You owe me a kiss.” she said expectantly, tapping her lower lip with her wand. Ron gave her a light peck, then pulled back.
Hermione opened her eyes.
“That stunk.”
“Yes, well, I'll give you a better one later.” Ron said hurriedly. He turned to leave yet again, but his hand was still in Hermione's and Hermione wouldn't budge. Ron slowly turned around, knowing he was not going to like what he saw once he had turned the full way around.
Hermione was staring at the tower with a musing expression on her face, her arms crossed and her wand balanced on her chin.
“I reckon they'd like it much better if it was put right.”
Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. This could not be happening.
Hermione pointed her wand to the tower and it righted itself.
“There.” Hermione said, dusting off her hands and looking quite pleased with herself.
Ron jumped onto a park bench and screamed,
“LOOK! IT'S HARRY POTTER AND GINNY WEASLEY!”
Once again, the whole crowd turned to see the now-famous couple.
“Hermione!” Ron jumped off of the park bench and ran back over to Hermione, who looked extremely proud of herself. Ron swore. “Hermione, put it back, please!”
“Why?” Hermione asked. “They'll like it much better this way.”
“Hermione, this is a famous building. You can't just right it! It doesn't work that way.”
“It doesn't?” Hermione asked, her lip quivering.
Oh hell. Oh, bloody, bloody hell.
“No. It doesn't”
“But everyone's going to be so pleased with me when they find out I've fixed their tower!”
“No, they won't, they'll be infuriated!”
“Really?” Hermione said, looking doubtful.
Ron could see that this tactic was simply not working. He got down on his knees, took one of Hermione's hands in his and said,
“Please! Please, I'll do ANYTHING!”
“Look!” someone in the crowd screamed. “A proposal!”
“Oh, oh where?” Hermione cried, looking away from Ron's blue eyes. “I love proposals!”
But everyone in the crowd was turning to look at Ron and Hermione.
“Ron! You're proposing? Oh, Ron! Yes! YES!” Hermione cried gleefully.
“No! NO!” Ron bellowed over the clapping of the crowd. Hermione pulled Ron off of his feet and hugged him and the crowd whistled.
“Hermione.” Ron whispered into her ear. “Put it right.”
“Fine.” Hermione said, beaming. She took her wand out and tilted the tower back.
“Right, then. Let's go.” Ron said hastily, grabbing Hermione's arm and leading her away from the scene.
“But it's not perfect yet!” Hermione protested.
“yes, but we have to go- er- pick out your ring.” Ron said hopelessly.
“Oh, I'm so excited, Ron!” Hermione said, beaming as they ran. “What colors should the flowers be? And the dresses? Why are you leading me into dark alleyways that smell like pasta and meatballs? What kind of dress robes should you men wear? Who will be my maid of-”
“Hermione.” Ron stopped running, then leaned down and kissed Hermione. “I'm not proposing.”
“You're not?” Hermione mumbled between kisses.
“No.” Ron said gently.
“Oh.” Hermione said.
“I love you.” Ron told Hermione, still kissing her. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, fine.” Hermione giggled. “love you too.”
Ron leaned down and gave her another kiss on the lips. Hermione's hand snaked up Ron's chest then behind his neck and into his hair. She sighed against his lips. Then the sigh stopped, and Ron was pushed roughly back.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Hermione asked, her eyes looking as though they were on fire.
“Er-”
“I can't believe you just kissed me!” Hermione said, pacing back and forth, looking exasperated. “Oh, merlin!”
“Hermione-” Ron started, but Hermione looked up at him.
“Ron, what the hell am I doing in a dark alleyway with you?”
Ron had a number of snappy comments to throw at her, but decided in favor of certain reproductive organs that it would be best to keep his mouth shut.
“And, for the love of merlin, what am I doing in skinny jeans?”
Hermione looked shocked. Then it seemed to dawn on her.
“Why were you kissing me? Why can't I remember coming into this dark Alleyway? Why can't I remember putting on skinny jeans?”
“Er- Ginny will explain it all.” Ron said.
“Has the date started?” Hermione asked, looking quite faint.
“It's over.” Ron said, looking quite relieved. After making sure Hermione got safely back, he put his finger on his rose and portkey'd back to the studio. Who ate pizza in Italy, anyway?
A/N: Happy new year, everyone! I hope this year is even better then the one before :) How did you like this chapter? It's one of my favorites, I can't ever read it without laughing. Tell me what part made you laugh most in a review! Speaking of- oh my gosh! 100 reviews! Thank you so, so much to everyone who took their time to review this story. This chapter is dedicated to you. ~writergirl8
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
The room seemed to have gone a deathly cold. If Hermione had been in her right mind, she would have wondered what happened to her thermometer. But Hermione was staring, transfixed, at the paralyzing images in front of her. Her eyes were huge, so big she wasn't sure what was keeping her lids up. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the dreadful images displayed on her wall.
She had never seen herself act like such a child. She wasn't a child. She was an adult. And it was scaring her. What was wrong with her? Why in merlin's good name was she acting like this? She wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to know the answer. What curse would make you want to kiss your ex-boyfriend, then ruin the leaning tower of Pisa?
Hermione watched, her gaze unyielding, as Ron pulled her into his strong arms and kissed her. A warmth spread over her body as she watched him kiss her. She shivered, remembering how it had felt to be gathered in his arms, pressed against his warm chest, his lips moving perfectly with hers. That she could remember.
She had to admit, it was a good kiss. She'd never actually watched Ron kiss her, but now she knew why she enjoyed it so much. It wasn't a sloppy or dirty kiss. It was warm, and longing, and passionate. It was Romeo and Juliet in a way, almost a goodbye kiss, or 'until we meet again'. It wasn't a kiss purely for the purpose of kissing someone, it was a kiss that, Hermione knew, was out of love.
Hermione drew her blanket closer to her body. She watched herself push Ron back, watched him stagger backwards with a look of pure confusion on his face. She bit her lip. She didn't like the fact that Ron's face was hurt because of her. She'd hurt him enough already. Hermione didn't want to hurt him anymore, not at all. She felt he'd suffered enough.
Then, the picture of Ron kissing Alyssa was conjured into her mind. The mental picture of her trashed living room appeared, along with the feeling in the pit of her stomach when Ron had kissed Alyssa, the feeling of pure desolation, of hopelessness, of no purpose, of sobbing and tears and of wanting to curl up into a tiny ball on the floor and wail, never uncurling herself, much like the child Harry had described from Kings Cross Station when he had almost died. Hermione felt the tears slowly inching into her eyes. She turned back to Ginny, positive that anything was better then this train of thought.
“What happened to me?” Hermione asked, her voice not betraying her desperateness. It was calm, more calm then Hermione felt. She had always been good at that.
“Cheering charm.” Ginny said, her eyes not leaving the floor of Hermione's room.
“Who cast it on me?” questioned Hermione's unemotional voice.
“Ron.” Ginny returned. “You were acting less then generous, and he wanted you to be more cheerful on your date.”
“Why did I act that way?” Hermione looked up, surprised. “Cheering charms aren't supposed to make you forget yourself, they're supposed to make you more cheerful!”
Ginny pointed to the piece of wall the date had just been playing on.
“Think back,” she said, “to the very beginning.”
Hermione had arrived in Italy, then gone to... a bar. Her face paled.
“Oh no. Cheering charms mixed with alcohol can result in loss of knowledge, dangerous and slash or terrible ideas, and a different span of emotions besides just 'cheerful', all which are multiplied to create a very emotionally charged person.”
“Copied directly from 'Standard Book of Spells, grade 3.” Ginny responded in an uncanny imitation of Snape.
Hermione gave her a look.
“Ron also over-cast the charm.” Ginny said, dropping the playfulness.
Hermione didn't speak. She sat there, on the bed, unmoving for a long time. Ginny was staring at her, looking apprehensive.
“Hermione?” she finally said.
Hermione, at the sound of her name, got out of the bed faster then Ginny had ever seen her and started to the door.
“Where are you going?” Ginny cried, running out of the room after her.
“To the fireplace!” Hermione called back.
“Why?!”
“Because if I apparate I'm almost positive I'll splinch myself.”
“Hermione, where are you flooing to?” Ginny had caught up to her friend.
“Your place.” Hermione answered.
“Why? Are you going to beat the crap out of my brother?”
“No.” Hermione said, fiddling with the powder. “I'm going to apologize.”
Ginny stood there, mouth open for a few seconds, as if waiting for Hermione to laugh and call 'just kidding!' When it became apparent, however, that Hermione had not been kidding, Ginny immediately started to protest.
“Apologize for what?” she asked, incredulous.
“Well, when he kissed me he was just doing my bidding. I asked him to kiss me, and he did to fix the tower. He was just doing the right thing.”
“Yes, but he put you under the charm that made you want to eat the leaning tower of Pisa in the first place! How can you be sorry?”
“Would you rather I be angry?” Hermione asked.
“Well, no, but-!”
Hermione stepped into the fireplace and flooed over to Ginny's flat.
“Hermione? What're you doing here?” asked Harry, who was sitting on the edge of the couch.
“I've come to see Ron.” Hermione replied.
Harry jumped off of the couch and bounded over to the stairs.
“Don't kill him, Hermione! He's sorry, he really is!”
“Move out of the way, Harry.” Hermione said, attempting to push him aside.
“Harry, you can move. Hermione doesn't want to go murder Ron. She wants to apologize.” said Ginny's slightly sarcastic voice. Harry looked at Hermione oddly.
“Apologize?” he repeated, sounding slightly faint.
“Third door on the left, Hermione.” Ginny told her.
“Right.” Hermione said. She dashed up the steps two at a time and burst into Ron's room. His nose was pressed up against the glass, and he was looking at the stars. Hermione was momentarily breathless at him moonlit face, for the room had no other means of light.
“Ron.” she said softly, not knowing what else to say. He turned to her, his eyes wide.
“Hi.” he said.
They both stood there in silence for a few moments. Then they both spoke at the same time.
“I'm really, really sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean for this all to happen. It was so stupid, and no offense, but you were making everyone's life a living hell and-”
“Listen, Ron-”
Both cut off short as the other spoke. More silence.
“Hermione, I-”
And then, Hermione had run up to Ron and was kissing him square on the lips. He kissed her slowly, then more eager, thrilled at the turn out of her appearance. She knew that he felt thrilled to be kissed by her in her right mind, not because she was under a spell. However, as Ron deepened the kiss, Hermione took a step back, away from him. He gave her a strangled looked as he too stepped back.
“What was that about?” he hissed.
“That was my apology.” Hermione answered, just as stiff as she had been before. “I felt as though you deserve the kiss. But savor it, Ron. Because you might not ever get another.”
Ron frowned at Hermione, his hand subconsciously lifting to his lip. Hermione walked over to the door, then turned around.
“I'm still angry, you know.” she said. “You made a total fool of me. Before, I was heartbroken. I was hopelessly sad. But now, Ron, I'm pissed. So watch your back.”
As Hermione spoke, she realized how angry she was. At Ron, at the game show, at Flitwick for teaching her ex that damned charm... and at herself. She'd wasted too much time crying. It wasn't like her. She wasn't the damsel in distress. She was smart, confident, independent Hermione Granger. So she'd lost someone she loved since she was 11 or 12. Big whoop. She'd acted like an idiot. And that was all going to change.
For the first time in a long time, she strode out of the room with a confident bounce in her steps. She smiled as she passed a whispering Harry and Ginny on her way to the fireplace. Then she drew back, smiled, and, ignoring the surprised looks on her best friends' faces, apparated home. The fact that she didn't splinch herself made Hermione feel more in control then before.
***
A piercing scream could be heard through all of the windows of the houses on the street. Neighbors impatiently looked out their windows down the street. What they didn't think of was to look into the bedroom inside of 456 Feather Lane, where Hermione Granger was yelling her lungs out. You might think she'd seen a death eater coming out of her fireplace, or Lord Voldemort being re-born. You might think she'd heard that she was going to be murdered, or seen someone being tortured to death. However, what she was screaming about was much, much worse.
“A nightclub!” Hermione yelled. “A Weird Sister's concert at a NIGHTCLUB?”
Ginny nodded, and a chair across the room burst into flame.
“Aqumenti!” she yelled, brandishing her wand toward the chair. She turned back to Hermione. She hadn't even noticed the small explosion caused by her magic. Her hands were still on her book, which she had been reading when Ginny had bounced out of the fireplace and announced that Hermione would be heading to a nightclub with Ron for the next date of 'The Perfect Match'. Hermione had stayed in bed all day, waiting for Ginny to come with the news. Now, she wanted Ginny to go right back into that fireplace and take the date idea with her.
“Hermione,” Ginny started angrily. “Please! Control yourself, and your magic!”
Hermione, however, did not hear this either. She was concentrating on breathing, attempting to forget the fact that in four hours time Ginny would have her forced into a slutty dress with virtually no fabric.
“Er- Hermione. Please listen.” Ginny begged. When her friend didn't answer, she tugged at the fringe of the lime green top she was wearing, fidgeting with her outfit.
“Hermione, I've picked out your dress!” Ginny tried.
Another loud scream echoed through the house.
“It's not that bad, I swear!” Ginny said. “And you sound like the ten year old in the muggle movie I saw about beauty contests.”
This got Hermione's attention.
“Yes, well, if I go to a night club I'm going to have to watch people do a strip-tease just like she did in that god damn movie!”
“It's a nightclub, Hermione, not a strip joint. All you'll have to do is dance.”
Hermione moaned, burrowing her face in a pillow.
“Hermione, please get up.” Ginny said softly. “Please?”
“No.” Hermione said into her pillow.
“Hermione, get up, please!” Ginny said, slightly more urgently. “GET UP HERMIONE!” she yelled when she got no response. When Hermione didn't move, Ginny screamed, “If you don't get up and let me dress you and do your makeupright now, I'm going to go home and make Harry get me pregnant out of wedlock, then call off the wedding and force you to tell my mum!”
Hermione leaped out of bed and walked over to the mirror in two strides, taking out her toothbrush and starting to brush her teeth. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and followed her into the bathroom.
***
“Dress on?”
“Check.” Hermione said, smoothing the fabric of her black, curve hugging halter dress, which Ginny had gotten her into using the same threat she had to get Hermione out of bed.
“Underwear?”
“Yes, Ginny.”
“Smoky eyeliner/eye shadow combo?”
“Er- I think so.”
“Check, then. Ankle breaking high heeled shoes?”
“Oh, yes.” Hermione grumbled.
“Brilliant.” Ginny said, eying the outfit fondly. She took a piece of Hermione's now silky straight hair in her hands and tugged on it lightly, then with an excited squeal ran over to the window. It was nearly dark out. Ginny grabbed the rose from a passing owl, then went back over to Hermione and handed it to her.
“Have fun!” she grinned as the rose glowed blue and Hermione was transported away from her and into a nightclub.
***
Ron Weasley generally avoided anything that had to do with dancing. He was not at all graceful on his feet. Now, in this club pounding with loud music and dancing shoes, Ron was totally out of his element. He sat uncomfortably at the corner of the bar, not really settled into his seat, waiting to bolt any time he could. He peered through the crowd, wondering if he would see anyone he knew. He didn't. He swept over the building once again, then saw Hermione walking towards him, head down, arms covering herself in an attempt to have her outfit remain hidden. Unfortunately for her (but not unfortunately for Ron), all it was doing was giving her more cleavage then Ginny's push up bra had, the exact thing she was trying to hide. Ron rearranged his features into an easy smile as he sipped his non-alcoholic tonic water. Hermione spotted Ron the walked slowly up to him, her face not so easygoing as Ron would've liked.
“Hi.” she said, sitting down at the bar. Ron noticed a few other men in the crowd looking at Hermione with great interest on their faces.
“Hey.” Ron grinned, looking away from the other men and attempting to show them that Hermione was his.
“One butterbeer, please.” Hermione said, looking tired already. “What're you drinking?”
“Lime flavored tonic water.” Ron said proudly, puffing out his chest.
“With gin?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“No...” Ron said. “With nothing!”
“I'm impressed.” Hermione allowed.
“I'm trying not to drink. I was out of control before.”
“It happens to everyone.” Hermione sighed. “my cousin Laura had a period where all she would drink was some sort of alcohol, until her friends stepped in and told her that she was way over-doing things, and that she needed to back down.”
“Oh.” Ron said, honestly not knowing how to respond to this comment. In truth, he hadn't even known Hermione had a cousin Laura.
“However,” Hermione said, her tone more businesslike. “If you want a butterbeer, I wouldn't oppose. I think you can afford to enjoy yourself in moderation.”
“Alright then.” Ron said, growing more cheery by the second. “One butterbeer.”
He turned to Hermione.
“How come you're allowing me to enjoy myself?”
“Because I'm too tired to think about why you shouldn't.” Hermione admitted. “I was in bed reading textbooks all morning, and I'm surprisingly exhausted.”
“Well, do you want to da-?”
Ron's question was drowned out by a loud scream from the crowd. He turned around to see the Weird Sisters filing onto the stage. He wrinkled his nose. He wasn't a big fan of the guitar banging band, and he wondered why everyone else was. They were so annoying, and their lyrics were pointless.
Ron realized then that he sounded an awful lot like Hermione.
“I hate this band.” Hermione was moaning, stirring her finger in her butterbeer. She drew it out, then licked the drink off. “Why are they called 'Weird Sisters'? It looks like they're all boys with uncommonly long hair.”
“I know.” Ron nodded. Both scowled at the band. Then they looked at each other in surprise, and laughed. Hermione took a sip of her drink, then set it down.
“Do you want to try to be friends again?” she asked quickly.
“Friends?” Ron said, his voice higher then normal.
“Well, we did it for 6 years of our life. I suppose it would be okay to try it again. There's no law we have to hate each other after we break up, right?”
Somehow, this was not what Ron had envisioned the game show doing for him, but he guessed it was a start.
“Sure.” he agreed. “Friends.”
Hermione seemed sightly more cheery, so Ron decided not to add the 'With Benefits?' portion to the conversation.
“Oh, sweet merlin.” Hermione said, clutching her head. “If I'm going to wake up with a pounding headache tomorrow morning, I may as well enjoy myself.”
She turned to the bar tender.
“Two firewhiskeys, please.”
She kept one drink to herself, handing the other to Ron.
“To friendship.” she said.
“To friendship.” Ron echoed. With a clang of their glasses, they downed their drinks.
***
A loud scream could be heard through the houses of Walsh street. The residents all groaned, clutching their heads, and looking at each other over their breakfasts. However, no one got such a headache from the scream as Ron. He sat up immediately, clutching his head and roaring,
“What the HELL is going on?”
The screaming continued, right in his ear. Ron looked to his left. Hermione was sitting in the bed next to him, her eyes wide with shock. He yelped, then scurried out from the covers, hiding on the other side.
“Ron? Ron? What happened last night? Why am I in your bed? WHAT happened last night? What did we do?” her eyes widened in shock. “Ron- did we...”
“I don't know!” Ron exclaimed, still clutching his head.
Hermione swore, slumping back against the pillows. She looked down at herself. Her clothes were still in tact, and besides the fact that her shoes were off, her outfit remained untouched.
“I don't think we did.” Hermione breathed in relief. At her sigh, Ron, also fully clothed, got back into the bed. They both sat there for a moment, then Hermione got out of the bed and attempted to put her right shoe on, hopping around the room in search of her coat.
“What's going on?” Ginny asked, bursting into the room. “I heard someone... scream.” Her eyes widened at the sight of Hermione.
“I'm looking for my coat!” Hermione said, ignoring Ginny's expression.
“Draped on the back of the chair.” Ginny said, pointing, then backing out of the room. Hermione hopped over to the chair and grabbed her coat, then hopped to the door.
“Bye, Ron.” she said, shutting it. Then she rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Harry and Ginny were sipping coffee looking equally disturbed.
“Close your mouths. Nothing happened.” Hermione snapped. “I think.” she added in a undertone.
“Good morning, Hermione.” Harry said mechanically. Ginny sighed, then put her hand to her head as if she couldn't stand her fiancée's stupidity.
“Bye, Harry. Bye, Ginny.” Hermione said, putting her left shoe on and hopping out of the kitchen. As soon as she got home, made herself a cup of tea and collapsed on the couch, Hermione vowed never to enter a nightclub again.
The calming smell of books took over Hermione's senses. She happily breathed in, then back out as she entered the book store. This was the only way to spend a lunch break, really. She'd left the ministry premises, gotten a chicken ceaser salad from the nearest soup, salad and sandwich shop, then headed over to the used bookstore right down the street. This had been her pattern ever since she had started working at the ministry after the war. She'd found the place when she was looking for some calm, and she hadn't gone to another used book store since. The store was huge, with shelves and shelves of books, all carefully organized by author and subject, fiction and non-fiction, even by age group. Before Hermione had accepted the Robinson case, she'd volunteered at the store. Now, everyone knew her and smiled at her as she walked in. The people in the store knew her, knew her well. Sometimes she would bring Ron in here, and they'd been caught snogging behind the non fiction display more then once. But the one thing people didn't know about her was her magic, and the fact that she was apart of the Golden Trio, best friends with the boy who saved the world. All they knew was that she was a happy, smiling person who loved books. Lately, however, Sally, the shop owner, had noticed that she was getting restless and sad.
Today, Hermione waved at the shop owner before walking to the back of the store and towards the classics. She lovingly ran her fingers over the titles on the spines. Finally, she found 'Gone With The Wind'. She opened it, and was thrilled to find it was a first edition. Hermione immediately sat down on a step, opened the book and began to read.
She was about 100 pages in when footsteps came rushing up to her in a hurried way. Hermione hated when people ran inside of this store. Did they know the precious objects it sold? Apparently not. But when Hermione tore herself away from Scarlett O'Hara to look up and reprimand the person, she realized that it was not at all some random stranger. It was Ginny.
“What're you doing here, Ginny?” Hermione asked furiously. “How did you find me?”
“Ron told me where you would be.” Ginny said simply, looking curiously at the muggle book Hermione was clutching to herself.
“He told you about the secret spot I used solely to get away from you?” Hermione said, incredulous.
“Yeah. Not much of a FRIEND now, is he?”
“Friend?” Hermione said, knitting her eyebrows in confusion.
Ginny nodded eagerly.
“Ginny- I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“You don't remember any bit of last night?” Ginny prompted desperately.
“No...” Hermione said slowly. “I guess I had a few too many drinks.”
“It's not like you to do that.” Ginny noted, lifting up 'Pride and Prejudiced'
“That's not you.” Hermione said, pointing towards the book.
“Hmmm?” Ginny said, looking up.
“You're more Emma. A matchmaker. Although I'm pretty sure you're more annoying.”
“Whatever.” Ginny said, looking irked as she set the book back down. “The point is- you don't remember asking Ron anything about anything?”
“All I remember was drinking with him, and then waking up to find out that we were in the same bed.”
“Well then-”
“Fully clothed, Ginny, and do you attempt to have such a dirty mind or does it just come naturally?”
“Naturally.” Ginny said, prodding the cover of 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer' and looking thoroughly unperturbed.
“Wonderful.” Hermione said. “So, why are you here?”
“Well, today Harry and I are registering what we want for our wedding.”
“And...” Hermione prompted impatiently. “What has this got to do with me?”
“Well, you're coming with us. As well as Ron.”
“Why?” Hermione asked. “I thought this was a couple thing.”
“It's sort of like an extra thing for the game-show. You and Ron are going against me and Harry to see who can register the most stuff that they've both agreed on without bickering or driving each other crazy... fastest.”
“It's not FAIR!” Hermione groaned. “You and Harry are bound to win. You're the same person, almost.”
“Well, we've already waited much to long to do this, so let's go.” Ginny said. “The wedding's in two weeks, and I'm sure people will want to start buying gifts.”
“You should've done it before.” Hermione scolded, walking up to the front of the store.
“The game show people wanted us to hold off.” Ginny responded nonchalantly, following suit.
“Oh, good, now they're controlling your life, too.” Hermione snapped, paying for the book. Sally looked at her curiously, and Hermione realized she'd tried to give her a galleon.
“Oh, sorry!” she said, hurriedly yanking the coin away from the eyebrow raising muggle and stuffing muggle money into her hand.
“You carry muggle money around?” Ginny asked curiously.
“Shhhhh!” Hermione said hurriedly, throwing Sally an unconvincing smile. The motherly woman shrugged, shook her head and put a freshly baked cookie in Hermione's brown bag.
“I don't think you're getting enough nutrients in that salad, dear.” she said warmly.
“I'm sure the cookie will help.” Hermione smiled, holding the cookie away from Ginny who was salivating hungrily at the scent.
“How can a cookie help?” Ginny said in a strangled voice. “You should give it to me.”
“Thank you, Sally.” Hermione said, making her way out of the store. “What's up with you?”
“I haven't eaten anything in two days.” Ginny said. “I really want to be able to fit into that wedding dress.”
Hermione snorted and devoured the cookie in Ginny's shocked face.
“What?” Hermione asked innocently and Ginny glared at her. “The cookie wouldn't have helped you fit into that dress, young miss.”
Ginny told Hermione to go do something that she was sure Mrs. Weasley would have blanched at, but before she could respond Ginny had roughly grabbed her arm and they had apparated to a store. Ron was waiting nervously at the counter, although his eyes were bright and excited. He was holding his wand at the ready, and Hermione noticed that he was eying the products in the store with great interest. She looked over at the Ron Weasley dining plates. She'd better leash him in before he bought up all of the Pals of Potter products.
“Right. This challenge is fairly straight forward: the pairs have to get the best deals that they've agreed on in a two hour time limit. Each argument will deduct five points.” Colin said.
“Harry and Ginny win.” Hermione and Ron said together. Hermione cocked her head at Ron, but then turned back toward Colin, who, oblivious to the outburst, was still plowing through the rules. Finally, he shouted,
“GO!”
The whole group turned around and Harry and Ginny headed to furnishings, while Ron and Hermione went to house-wear.
“What do you think of this pot, Ron?” Hermione asked, tapping it with the spell Colin had told them to use.
“Brilliant, Hermione.” said Ron's muffled voice. She turned around. He had gone to the silverware section and was registering a box of 'Golden Trio' baby spoons with collectors edition ones of Neville, Luna, Ginny, Fred, George and- rarest of them all- Dobby.
“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, walking over to him and jabbing his hand away from the box of matching sippy cups.
“C'mon, Hermione. They're awesome!”
“Ron, NO!” Hermione yelled.
But Ron continued. Hermione searched desperately through her brain for something to tell Ron to make him stop registering baby products until something came to her.
“Ron,” she said bossily. “If you buy so many baby products, Harry and Ginny are going to feel pressured at have a baby.”
“So.” Ron shrugged. “More sleep for me, right?”
“Ron!” Hermione cried, exasperated. “That means they'll have to have sex!”
Hermione crossed her fingers and held her breath, not bothering to tell her ex that the deed was already done.
“WHAT!” Ron bellowed. “They... they wouldn't!”
“They would.” Hermione replied, nodding her head gravely.
“Get out of the baby product section, Hermione Weas- er- Granger.”
“Must I?” Hermione groaned in a light voice, following Ron with a mischievous smile on her face. “Now, listen, Ron. In order for Harry and Ginny not to have sex you have to do exactly what I say...”
***
Two hours later, Hermione and Ron were standing next to Harry and Ginny, who were giving each other smug smiles. Hermione too was smiling smugly as she tapped a blank piece of paper and put her and Ron's register information on it using the spell the teachers of Hogwarts used to fill sixth and seventh year's schedules. Both of the pairs handed their sheets to Colin, glancing competitively at each other every few seconds. Finally Hermione and Ginny broke down laughing and hugged, leaving Ron and Harry looking utterly bewildered.
“Ginny, love, what ever happened to 'we must squash them like two sorry bugs'?” Harry stage whispered, trying not to laugh.
“Hey!” Ron said indignantly.
“I have the results.” Colin said, coming back with their pages. “The winners are Ron and Hermione.”
The confident smile slid right off of Ginny's sorry face. Hermione blew her a little kiss. Ginny's nostrils flared as she asked,
“How?!”
“Well, Ron and Hermione have, for some strange reason, exhibited an extraordinary level of teamwork for a broken up couple. I can't understand it. But you and Mr. Potter did some things without asking each other. I believe the assignment was 'Who can be the best communicating team?' not 'Who can read each other's mind's better', although if that were the challenge I have no doubt you two would have won.” Colin said professionally yet with a likable manner about him.
“Oh my god.” Ginny said, turning to Harry. “Hermione and Ron beat us in a couple activity. How the hell did this happen?”
“Er-” Harry said, obviously trying not to laugh. His face was turning red.
“Harry, we are going to have to have some major snog sessions after this. Beaten out by two people who can't stand each other! We must not be in sync...” Ginny said, hysterically trying to find an answer.
“Aha!” she screamed a few seconds later, lifting her finger. “It was fixed! By Hermione... what'd you do, Hermione, take his NEWTs for him?”
“I couldn't have done that, Ginny, I just found out about this challenge!”
“THIS CAN NOT BE HAPPENING!” Ginny screamed.
“It's her time of month.” Harry mouthed. “Ron would you mind turning around?”
“Sure, mate.” Ron said, looking happy to be allowed to turn his back on the unveiling nightmare. As soon as Ron's back was turned, however, Harry gathered Ginny in her arms and kissed her. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut at the disgusting display of affection, but opened them when the noised stopped.
“Better?” Harry asked.
“Much.” Ginny said woozily.
“You could have made less noise!” Ron said grumpily as he un-stuffed his fingers from his ears.
***
Hermione was being delivered to her front door by Harry, Ginny and Ron. Harry and Ginny were upfront, laughing and being downright couple like, and Ron was trailing just behind Hermione. They walked up the hill on the unusually cool day, Ron's hands stuffed into his pockets.
“We worked well together, didn't we?” Ron said suddenly.
Hermione turned around.
“Yes, once I threatened you we became a great pair.”
“We did.” Ron said.
Harry and Ginny had now passed the flat. Hermione stopped in front of it, then opened up the gate and slipped inside.
“Bye, then.” she said, closing the gate and leaning on it.
“Bye.” Ron said, his cheeks red at his outburst, his eyes on the flat that used to be his. Hermione lingered at the gate for a moment, leaning forward as if she expected Ron to kiss her. He wasn't even looking at her. Ginny let out a loud snort at something Harry said, and the pair seemed to jump back to life. Hermione stopped leaning against the gate and smoothed her navy skirt.
“Bye, then.” she said, looking across the horizon at the dawning twilight.
“Bye.” Ron whispered. And Hermione turned around and walked into the flat.
“Oh, and an AMAZING goal by Sander Gredy!”
The crowds leaped up and roared as Bulgaria scored yet another point. Of course, they were playing the Cannons, so Ron booed.
Hermione knew that he also wasn't rooting for the other team because Viktor Krum was on it. She recognized that Ron still thought of Krum as a threat to his non-existent relationship with Hermione, so he wasn't going to be nice. Still, he wasn't even paying any attention to Hermione. They were sitting in the sky box at the Quidditch Match of the season, having gotten tickets from Ginny, who was playing, and all Ron could do was talk enthusiastically to Oliver Wood about the match. Harry was watching his fiancee intentely not paying attention to Ron or Oliver. Hermione exchanged annoyed looks with the former Quidditch Captain's wife, Katherine.
“Is he always like this?” they both asked each other, then laughed.
“Yes!” the two women answered at the same time.
Hermione looked up as Ron started cheering for the Cannons again. How had she gotten into this? Ah, right. That damn she-mule Ginny Weasley had come prancing into her room at eight o'clock. As usual, Ginny was cheerful and annoying, while Hermione was having pre-date grumps.
“Helloooo!” Ginny had called into the room. “Good MOOOORNING!”
“Shut up.” Hermione had advised, pulling her pillow over her head.
“Nope. You'll need to start getting used to the noise. You're going to a Quidditch game!” Ginny announced.
“No, I'm not.” Hermione said.
“Yes, you are.” Ginny said.
“How?” Hermione moaned. “I thought the dates were supposed to be worth my while?”
“I got you the tickets.” Ginny said simply, skipping over the fact that she'd lied on Hermione's entry so that the staff at the game show thought Hermione liked Quidditch.
“Remind me again why you're my best friend when you're so clearly out to get me?” Hermione snapped, groaning on the inside.
“Dunno. But, you know, somehow you'll find a way to work Victor Krum to your advantage.” Ginny said, walking over to the closet and pulling out a beautiful maroon shirt she'd gotten for Hermione a few days prior.
“What do you mean?” Hermione demanded.
“Well, he's always made Ron so jealous.” Ginny said, smiling crookedly and winking.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione frowned. She slid over to the end of the bed, then placed her feet carefully on the floor.
“Hurry up!” Ginny called as Hermione slowly lifted herself out of bed. She held up a pair of jean capris.
“When is this goddamn game show going to end?” Hermione asked.
“Not too soon. You're only on, what, your seventh date?”
“I've lost track.” Hermione said stiffly, pulling on the jeans. “And I refuse to use my past relationship with Victor Krum to my advantage.”
“Hermione? You here?” Kathrine asked, shooting a soft smile in Hermione's direction.
“Yeah. I am.” Hermione said, shaking herself awake. Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe she should use the Victor Krum thing to her advantage. Not because she wanted to make Ron jealous, but because she was bored out of her mind.
All of a sudden, the crowd leaped to its feet.
“What's going on?” Hermione yelled to the cheering Kathrine amidst the loud noises.
“Viktor Krum is going after the snitch!” Kathrine yelled back, jumping up and down.
“Oh.” Hermione said. She cast a glance in Ron's direction, then cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled. “GOOOOO VIKTOR!”
Ron immediately stopped cheering and started the scowl. Hermione groaned with the rest of the crowd when Krum couldn't get the snitch.
“Dammit.” she said lightly, sitting down. Then she turned to Kathrine and said in a giggly voice. “Isn't he handsome? You know, we dated during my fourth year.”
Beside her, Ron's knuckles cracked. Hermione could tell she was doing a great job of distracting him from the game. Beside him, Oliver tried to say something, but Ron held his hand up and continued to listen to Kathrine and Hermione's conversation.
“Was he a good kisser?” Kathrine asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Mmmm, the BEST!” Hermione announced loudly. “He did things with his lips I didn't even know existed.”
Oh, great, now she was talking about Ron. Well, she was on the right track.
“When he kissed me,” Hermione said to Kathrine in a not nearly low enough voice, “I felt like a was going to fly up to the moon. It was like a dozen little feelings I didn't know I had just burst in side of me.”
“Wow.” Kathrine breathed. “What happened to you guys? Last I heard you were on a game show with... Ron.”
“I couldn't stand the limelight.” Hermione admitted. “Being Victor Krum's true love comes with a price, you know. I imagine it's the same way for Ginny with Harry. I guess she's just a stronger woman then I am.” Hermione let out an exaggerated sigh, and Ron's jaw flexed. Hermione knew he wouldn't say anything, because that would get him to admit that he was listening to the conversation, something Hermione knew he'd never do.
“VICKTOOOOOR!” Hermione screamed loudly as Krum made another dive for the snitch. “Isn't he handsome?” she sighed once more. Then she turned back to Kathrine. “Oh, wait, I already asked that, didn't I?”
“Yeah, you did.” Kathrine laughed. “But I know how you feel. It's how I feel every time I look at Oliver, and I'm married to him. Maybe, do you think, your love for Viktor could be worth the limelight?”
“It's worth thinking about.” Hermione admitted. “I mean, I haven't seen him in forever, and all the feelings are just coming rushing back. My love for him... it's like soaring on a broomstick.”
Hermione knew that this was Ron's favorite analogy to use when he was feeling particularly cheesy. She always laughed, she loved the comparison, because she knew that was why Ron loved flying so much. Now, to hear Hermione use the analogy on another man was too much for Ron to bear. He launched himself out of his seat and left the row. Katherine looked quizzically at Hermione.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“I don't know.” Hermione said slowly, pretending to be confused.
“Do you want to go after him?” Kathrine asked.
“What? Hermione said, panicked.
“He obviously loves you!” Kathrine said. “I think you should set the record straight. Tell him your heart belongs with Viktor, that you can still be friends.”
“Oh- er- I don't think that's necessary.” Hermione said.
“Go!” Kathrine insisted, giving Hermione a small push.
“Oh- er- alright.”
Hermione exited the row and went in search for Ron.
“Excuse me?” she said to a bouncer. “have you seen an angry, tall... angry, red-headed, angry man?”
“Yes.” the bouncer said. “I have. He went down to the practice pitch. It's not being used, and he had proof he was related to Ms. Weasley-Potter, so I let him go.”
“Thanks.” Hermione said. She continued walking down the steps until she finally found Ron, leaning against a railing and watching the sun set. She stood behind him for a while, unsure what to do. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she felt uncharacteristically confused. She swallowed quietly and stayed where she was.
“I love flying in sunsets.” Ron said after a few moments. Hermione started, she hadn't known Ron knew she was there. “It's relaxing, and beautiful.”
Hermione cautiously approached the railing then leaned against it, her hair blowing lightly in the wind.
“Sometimes I wish I could just fly away into that sunset on my broom, see where it leads me.”
“I know how that feels.” Hermione said, taking a shaky breath.
“You do?” Ron turned to her, looking desperately eager to find someone out there who felt the same things he did. Hermione simply nodded, and Ron turned back to the sunset.
“Have you ever flown before?” he asked a few moments later.
“No.” Hermione shook her head, laughing slightly, “it was one of the few things you couldn't get me to do while we were... friends.”
She didn't want to say 'while we were dating'. A calm had settled over the pair, and Hermione was unwilling to break it. She could just hear Ginny now.
“Friends?” she would snicker. “How about special friends?”
“Will you teach me?” Hermione said suddenly, turning to Ron.
He spun around just as she had, his blue eyes sparkling. Hermione let herself get lost in them as he answered.
“Yes! I'd love to!”
He wondered over to a shed and emerged with two firebolts. Ron tossed Hermione a broom and she caught it. Grinning, and feeling as though she were on top of the world, she mounted the broomstick and did what she'd seen all Quiddtich players do. She kicked the ground. In a second, she was soaring, on top of the world. She laughed loudly and shrieked her delight.
“C'mon, Mione, is that as high as you'll go?”
“Damn straight is!” Hermione insisted loudly.
Ron flew down to her.
“There's no risk down here!” he insisted.
“You seem quite adamant about me risking my neck.” Hermione observed.
“No, I want you to be happy, and if you don't do this you'll regret it?”
“Will I, now?” Hermione asked, giving a small smile.
“Yes, you will.”
“I can't go much higher.” Hermione said doubtfully, looking to the ground.
“Take my hand.” Ron said, reaching out. Hermione took it. She felt Ron lurch her upward, and she clutched her broom and closed her eyes, screaming her lungs out. All of a sudden the wind was flying steadily through her hair, and she quieted, concentrating on the feel of Ron's warm hand in hers. She smiled softly, like a child just about to go to sleep. Ron was right. It was the most wonderful feeling in the word- a lot like being in love. It was unexplainable, and Hermione now understood why Ron had been so upset when she'd compared her love for Victor Krum to flying. All she wanted right now was to feel Ron's hand and the wind in her hair. It was so perfect and romantic, and they were the only feelings in the world worth feeling
“Open your eyes.” said Ron's voice.
Hermione slowly opened them, but only to meet Ron's blue eyes with her own brown ones. They stared at each other, then a loud cheer from the crowds startled them alive. Hermione quickly looked away, her face red. The tips of Ron's ears were maroon.
“Race you!” Hermione cried.
It really was a bad idea. She shouldn't have thought she could beat Ron. When he got competitive, boy was he competitive. Still, Hermione shot after him like a bullet. He was just a faster bullet. They raced around the pitch for what seemed like a million times. Finally, Katherine and Oliver's voices sounded below them.
“Oi, you two, get DOWN!” they screamed. Hermione, out of instinct, looked down toward the sound. Then she screamed.
“Oh MY GOD!” she yelled. “AUUUUUGGGG!”
“What! what is it?” Ron cried, panicked.
“We're so high up!” Hermione shrieked. Her face was pale. She looked like she was about to fall off of her broom.
“It's okay, Hermione.” Ron said, humoring her. “Just tilt your broom down.”
“I can't, I can't!” Hermione screamed hysterically.
“Tilt DOWN!” Oliver roared.
Hermione did, but only because she knew she had to get down. She couldn't stay up here, she was too afraid. Within seconds, however, she'd tilted off of her broom. She let out a piercing scream. All of a sudden, Ron's hand had grabbed her wrist and he'd pulled her onto his broom. He dived to the ground, then picked her up baby style, lifting her off of his broom.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Hermione, eyes wide, nodded. They stared at each other, then Ron slowly lowered Hermione to the ground.
“Game's over.” Kathrine announced, obviously trying to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Ginny's team won. Seeker beat Krum for the snitch by about a millisecond.”
They arrived at their box. A few moments later Ginny rushed up to them, panting.
“How'd I do?” she asked Harry.
“Brilliant, love.” Harry beamed. Ginny turned to Hermione, and seemed about to say something, when her eyes focused on Hermione's hair.
“I'd ask how you got sex hair,” she began, “but I don't think I want to know.”
She noticed the tussled look Ron's fiery locks were sporting.
“And I'm guessing it has nothing to do with Victor Krum.”
“You'd be surprised.” Kathrine added, before clapping her hands over her mouth.
Ron didn't think his voice had ever been so high pitched. It was bad enough he had to be the best man to Hermione's maid of honor (after all, according to Hermione's 'friends' TV show, the best man had to sleep with the maid of honor the night before the wedding. As much as Ron would have enjoyed this rule, he didn't think it was the best idea to mention it to Hermione), but now he had to dance? And take lessons to dance?
“No.” he said firmly. “I'm not doing this. I'm NOT doing this.”
“Really.” Ginny said, while Harry all but cowered behind her. “Ronald, you are doing this. Or else I won't even let you into the wedding, and I have a lot more up my sleeve then just that.”
“Think of it this way.” Harry piped up. “You'll get to spend hours with her, dancing, your palms pressed together. And in those few hours, you two might fall back in love.”
“Not bloody likely.” Ron complained.
“Well, Ron, you're doing this whether you like it or not.” Ginny said. “That, my dear friend, is final. Very final.”
“Great. Just great.” Ron moaned.
“Complain all you want to Harry,” Ginny grinned, kissing her husband-to-be. “I'm going to go tell Hermione.”
Ginny apparated out of the flat and Harry turned apologetically to Ron.
“She wants the perfect wedding, mate.” Harry shrugged. “I'm not going to stop her. I love her too much. You know how it is.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Ron said, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. “Merlin save me. I'm going to have to dance.”
***
The Spiral Dance Studios' ballroom was one large room with a million mirrors, a hard wood floor, and echoes. Hermione set her purse down on the floor and smiled. She hadn't been in a dance studio since she was young. She started to dance, her trainers squeaking across the floor.
“Not bad.” said a French voice from the corner. “But not good either.”
Hermione started. The woman was leaning against the wall. She was wearing wizard robes with yoga pants and a leotard underneath. That being said, she was not young, maybe in her 50s or 60s, with short black hair and sharp gray eyes that Hermione could tell didn't miss a thing.
“You are wearing jeans and trainers.” the woman said in her deep voice. “Why is this?”
“I wasn't instructed on what to wear.” Hermione said defensively.
“Hmmm. Come here. I think I can find you something.”
15 minutes later, Hermione was wearing a siren red leotard, a black skirt and red high heels. The skirt was so floaty, whenever Hermione so much as shifted her position it billowed out. Madam Leona had gotten her young assistant to pile Hermione's hair on top of her head in a neat bun that was put together was a single red chopstick. When Hermione walked out of the back room, Ginny, Harry and Ron were already there. Ginny was dressed in a floaty emerald dress with the same material as Hermione's skirt.
“You look amazing!” Ginny squealed, running over to Hermione. “Where did you get that?”
“Madam Leona.” Hermione said, jerking her head toward the woman, who was watching the scene with a disinterested look on her face.
“You may keep everything, by the way.” Leona said as she passed Hermione to walk to the front of the room. Then she whistled. The sound echoed off of the walls, and Harry and Ron, who were deep in discussion about the latest Quidditch game of the season, snapped to attention.
“Nice.” Ginny said appreciatively.
“Welcome to my dance instruction.” Madam Leona said. “Now, let me see. I can always tell who is getting married, there is a certain look.”
Hermione glanced at Ron, who was smiling at her.
“Ah!” Madam Leona said. She grabbed Ron's arm, then Hermione's and shoved them together. Hermione stumbled over her heels and was forced to wrap her arms around Ron's neck to keep herself from falling flat on her face. “You are the happy couple!” Madam Leona beamed. “Congratulations.”
“Actually,” Ginny piped up, “we're the happy couple. You may have heard of Harry Potter?” she smirked as Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist.
“Oh.” Madam Leona said, her smile dimming slightly. “Well, fine then.”
She turned back to Ron and Hermione, her face turning back into a broad smile.
“Then you two must be deeply in love!” she announced.
Ginny snorted.
“Not... exactly.” Hermione lied. Ron's ears turned red.
“No?” Madam Leona said, looking confused. She stroked her chin and muttered to herself quietly for a while. “That is strange,” she murmured “I can always tell. I've never been wrong.” she shrugged her shoulders and threw up her hands. “They must not have figured it out yet.” she said simply. Walking to the front of the room. Ginny was laughing loudly into Harry's shoulder, and Harry was trying not to laugh, but his face was turning red and his eyes were bulging out.
“Go ahead, laugh.” Ron said defiantly as Hermione unwrapped her arms around from his neck, flushing.
“Fine!” Harry said, and both he and Ginny burst out laughing.
“Now, now, children.” Madam Leona said. “We must get to work. We want the beautiful wedding, don't we?”
“Yes!” Ginny said, straitening up. Madam Leona looked her up and down.
“Are you not a bit too young to be getting married?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“I am not.” Ginny said simply. “Please, teach me how to dance.”
***
As soon as Hermione walked into the room, Ron's breath was stolen from him. She looked so beautiful, and graceful. All of a sudden he knew that he wanted to impress her. And he'd do anything to do it.
Her hand slid into his, just like it used to, and she wrinkled her nose, but didn't say anything. The music started, and the couples moved back and forth in a fairly easy dance number. Ron, being rhythmically challenged, struggled at first but in the end figured it out. By the time Madam Leona had said they were done, the couples were feeling fairly confident. Even Hermione had it down. She dashed over to her water bottle, face flushed happily, her smile genuine.
“It was hard, but I think I did pretty well.” she beamed.
“Please,” Ron said, taking a sip of his own drink. “that was easy.”
“Easy, was it?” Madam Leona said, walking over to them.”
“Yeah.” Ron said. “I've seen llamas do harder dances then that one.”
“Really,” Madam Leona replied coolly, her smile all-knowing. “So we would like to try a hard one, yes?”
“Yes!” Ron said. “I mean... no.”
But at the smug grin on Ginny's face, and the confused one on Hermione's, Ron knew he had to learn the dance. He took a deep breath and grabbed Hermione's hand. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she followed him onto the dance floor none the less.
Once Ron had learned the steps, however, they seemed nearly impossible. Plus, there was the problem of touching Hermione. Anytime his hand moved to close to her butt or waist, Hermione angrily swatted it away, her eyes furious.
“Now you're going to wrap your leg around his and he'll spin you.” Madam Leona called over the music. Harry and Ginny did just that. Hermione stopped dancing.
“There's no way.” she said.
“Oh, c'mon, Mione.” Ron said lightly. “Are you scared or something?”
“No!” Hermione said indignantly.
Ron stuck out his hand.
“Then dance with me.” he said quietly. Hermione straitened up, then put her hand in Ron's.
“Go from the spin.” Madam Leona said, starting the music again.
“Why are you doing this?” Hermione demanded. It was a common fact Ron hated dancing.
“It's fun.” Ron shrugged.
“And you get to touch her butt.” Ginny added as Harry whirled her by.
“Shut it.” Ron growled.
“Is that all?” Hermione demanded.
“No! It's fun!” Ron exclaimed.
“Are you-” Hermione started, but she was interrupted by Madam Leona.
“I wonder,” she said, “how you two would fair doing a sweet, romantic dance.”
“I do too.” Ginny says. “I think you'd be surprised.”
“No.”
“Let's do it.” Ron said, wiping sweaty hair from his eyes. “This dancing is easy too.”
“Easy, is it?” Madam Leona said, as Hermione looked at him with wide eyes. She looked amused, which was making Ron nervous, but for the sake of Hermione he nodded as he looked into her eyes.
“Yep. As pie.” Ron lied. In truth, he was struggling slightly with the steps. But he wanted to impress Hermione and he would be dammed if some bad dancing got in the way.
But, a half hour later, it became apparent that Ron did not entirely think the plan through. When he'd bravely stated that he was good at dancing, he hadn't remembered that he would actually have to partake in the activity. Hermione's face was mutinous as her foot was stepped on the millionth time. She didn't say anything, though, making Ron nervous about the blow up that was to come later.
Ginny and Harry were, as usual, moving effortlessly across the dance floor, laughing as they went. They really were the perfect couple. Ron felt a pang of jealousy as Harry and his sister soared by. He stuck out his middle finger.
“Stop!” Madam Leona said, after Hermione had actually let out a cry of pain at Ron stepping on her foot.
“You may stop now, both of you.”
“Thank you!” Hermione said, pulling away from Ron.
“I am confident that you will do, meh, reasonably well at the wedding. Or at least the bride and groom will. There is something odd about you two...”
Madam Leona looked at the two, then shook her head.
“Dismissed.” she announced.
“Something odd....” Ginny said, shaking her head. “Look, you two have to promise to be one front, united, best buddies, for the wedding, okay? I can't have you two fighting.”
“I don't want to be best friends.” Hermione said stiffly.
“Too bad.” Ginny said cheerfully. “Promise.”
“I promise.” Ron said, looking over at Hermione as if daring her to be the smaller person.
“Me too.” Hermione said, looking as though she would rather snog Lord Voldemort then be friends with Ron.
“Good.” Ginny said firmly. She linked her arm with Harry.
Harry and Ginny walked laughingly out of the room, smiling and kissing. Hermione stood there awkwardly next to Ron, listening to their giggles die down as they walked down the hall.
“See you at the wedding.” she said finally, turning around and walking out of the ballroom, her shoes leaving a chilling echo across the pristine wooden floor.
“The caterers canceled on us.”
These were the warm, welcoming words Hermione spoke to Ron when he entered the kitchen on the night of Harry and Ginny's rehearsal dinner. He took a second for the words to register. Once he had fully comprehended the meaning, he spoke.
“You're kidding.” Ron groaned. “Why?”
“Apparently, the head chef refused to cook for someone as famous as Harry Potter, and the rest of the staff refuse to go on without him.”
“Bloody hell.” Ron swore. “What're we going to do?”
“I've called every caterer in town, muggle and wizard alike. They're all booked. Apparently it's a big season for parties. Back to school, end of summer, weddings and the like.”
“So everyone's booked, huh?” Ron said, sitting down on a bar stool.
“Yeah.” Hermine said, attempting to remain calm. Ron sat on the stool, motionless, apparently thinking about what to do. Hermione did what she always did when she was too stressed to hear herself think. She counted his freckles. Just as she'd reached 18, however, Ron spoke.
“I make a mean spaghetti and meatballs.” he stated plainly.
“Really? I had no idea.” Hermione fibbed.
“Do you want to taste it first before you trust me?” Ron asked, looking into her eyes as if he was asking her about something other then pasta.
“Yeah.” Hermione said, waving her hand in a go ahead manner. She leaned down and pressed her face to the cool counter as Ron threw a dish towel over his shoulder and started preparing the meal.
There was a dent in Hermione's bed from her lying in it so much. She hadn't really moved since the end of the war. She'd gone out looking for this apartment, had been a bundle of energy while she refurbished it and cleaned it and made it her own. And then, just like that, she'd stopped. Like a wind up children's toy, her energy had burned out. She'd curled up into a tiny little ball on her bed and refused to see anyone. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. She didn't read books or watch muggle TV. She didn't cry. She just layed there. Before, she'd been Ron's rock. She'd told him everything he needed to hear. She hadn't judged him if he cried or didn't cry. She hadn't cried herself. She'd just been there. It was much of the same thing now. Hermione existed, but she wasn't alive. And Ron missed her. She knew that. Ron had tried to help her, and Hermione wouldn't have any of it. She wouldn't talk to him or let him in. She stayed curled up in her tiny little ball, her eyes haunted and gaunt. Ron guessed that she had just gotten sick of running away from the grief.
But he was getting sick of it. Ron didn't like to see Hermione wallowing in self pity, he didn't like her sad eyes. He wanted to see a smile stretched across her face, a thoughtful look taking over her features. And he was tired of getting pushed away. After the place they'd gotten to, the small little kisses, the late night 'I love yous', he would not let Hermione push him back again. They both had worked too hard to begin (or not begin, come to think of it) this relationship.
The house was dark as he snuck into it, as Ron had suspected it would be. He walked over to Hermione's kitchen and lit it up. Then he set to work. He'd been practicing. Soon, the alluring aroma of sweet meatballs was pouring around the house, the scent impossible to escape. He knew that Hermione would be sitting up in the dark, wondering what was going on, who was in her house. He knew she wouldn't care. He knew that, in her current state of mind, she wouldn't bother to fight if a group of Death Eaters came into the apartment and tried to kill her. Even if it meant doing that for him. Since she'd shut him out of her life, Ron was sure Hermione had forgotten the reason she was living. Which was why, on this Friday night, he had come to Hermione's apartment (he called it an apartment because it was just too tiny to be a flat) and made them dinner. Why he was spreading a warm red table cloth on the table and pouring red wine into glasses to go with the spaghetti. Why he lit two eerily white candles and placed them on the table. And why, after he'd set out the food and made everything perfect, donned his nicest shirt and Hermione's favorite pair of jeans on him, then went to get her.
Like the rest of the house, Hermione's room was dark. Ron could just make out her frail body, lying there. He wanted to cry at the sight of her. Instead, he walked slowly over to her, then tenderly touched her cheek.
“Hi,” he whispered, letting his warm breath tickle her cold nose. Hermione didn't answer. She looked up at him, her eyes weak. Ron couldn't help it. He leaned down and kissed her nose, then brushed his lips against her own. They were cold, unlike Ron's warm ones, and Ron got the impression that Hermione hadn't been touched, much less kissed, in a few days. He reached out his warm hand and placed hers in it with the other one, then helped her up. Hermione was stiff, but she followed him without any complaint. There were dark circles under her eyes, and while Ron was wearing a nice outfit, she was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, he still thought she was beautiful. Still, she was extra thin, more thin then he had ever seen her, and her face was gaunt and pale. A large part of the girl Ron loved was missing. She wasn't smiling, or laughing, just staring, her head cocked slightly. Ron slowly led her to the kitchen, keeping his eyes on her face instead of the bare feet that had been painted blue by Ginny.
“I like your toes.” Ron offered. Hermione's mouth parted slightly, but she didn't say anything. Until Ron led her to the table. Her mouth fell open, and she immediately pressed her lips together, tears starting to spill of her eyes. Then her breath was ragged, her lip wobbling, and she was crying into Ron, wailing, her whole body shaking as she pressed her nose hard against his shirt. Ron kissed her forehead and held her, closing his eyes and letting her pain soak into him. He felt like looking up at the sky and saying,
“Why her? Make me hurt more. Take me instead.”
But he didn't. He knew Hermione had to hurt to get back to normal. As much as Ron want to take away every bad dream, every tear and sad feeling Hermione possessed, he knew he couldn't. It hurt him, maybe as much as it hurt her.
When Hermione had stopped crying, Ron sat her down on a chair and lifted the lid to the dinner. He carefully piled food onto Hermione's plate and put his hands in his lap. She didn't touch her food, instead looked at him, confused.
“I'll wait for you to start.” Ron said. He wasn't even tempted to eat. All he wanted to do was make sure that Hermione got nourishment, even if he had to feed her like a baby. He started to fiddle with his hands when he realized she had spoken.
“Is it edible?” Hermione asked, smiling slightly at Ron. Her voice was cracked from lack of use, but it was her voice none the less. Ron wanted to go over to her and kiss her face, her lips, or maybe just hold her hand, he was so happy to see her back. He instead nodded.
“Very. I've already tried it.”
“Ron, you'll eat grass.” Hermione pointed out.
“Not unless my mother cooks it, I won't.” Ron joked, trying to pretend Hermione was in her regular happy state instead of someone who was in a good use of a cheering charm. Hermione took a big bite of the pasta, then looked up at Ron.
“It's... good.” she said, sounding shocked.
“I know.” Ron said, grinning widely.
Hermione smiled incredulously, then went back to the pasta, eating so vigorously Ron wondered how long it had been since she'd had proper nourishment. The thought made his stomach ache.
“I worked too hard to shut it out.” Hermione said suddenly. Ron looked up. The smile had slid off of her face, and she looked troubled. “I threw myself into finding my parents, into getting back in to school, into buying this apartment and giving it proper furnishings... I didn't allow myself time for pain. On purpose, Ron. I wouldn't let myself feel on purpose.”
Ron didn't say anything. He sat there silently and waited for Hermione to continue, as he knew she would.
“And then, when I had accomplished all the things I had needed to, I had nothing to do but think. And it all came crashing down onto me. And I started to feel. And I couldn't stop feeling.”
Ron reached across the table and touched Hermione's hand. And right then, that was all it took.
“Ta da.” Ron sang, setting a plate in front of Hermione.
“It smells great, Ron.” Hermione said wryly. “But how are you going to make the same dish for 50 people in about 3 hours?”
“Ahhhhh.” Ron said. “Hermione Granger, that is what we wizards like to call magic.”
***
“Wow.” Hermione said. She'd gone home to get dressed, and when she'd come back Ron had successfully made 50 plates of food. Now, they were being carried out of the kitchen by a select few waiters Hermione had found that had been willing to work and that had no idea it was Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's wedding rehearsal.
“Wow.” Ron said. Hermione was dressed in a beaded black dress and black high heels. Her makeup had been applied prettily- almost naturally- and her hair was swept up into a graceful bun.
Hermione gave Ron a look, clearly telling him that they were broken up, even if they were being friends for the time being.
“Ready to go?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah.” Ron offered Hermione his arm, and she took it. The two exited the kitchen and into the room where the rehearsal dinner was being held. Everyone was seated, and spaghetti and meatballs had been placed in front of them. Ron and Hermione walked over to their spots next to the bride and groom.
“Where have you and Hermione been?” Harry asked, a teasing grin on his face.
“Shut up. She wasn't there half the time.” Ron replied, frowning.
“I see.” Harry said, grin still intact.
“Hermione!” Ginny said in a light and airy voice, going to hug Hermione. “What the hell were you thinking. I wanted turkey, not spaghetti and meatballs! It's a wedding, not a 5 year olds' birthday party.”
“Try it.” Hermione said, indicating to the spaghetti.
Ginny sniffed, but, obviously hungry, took a bite. Her eyes bugged out.
“Wow! That's great.”
“The caterers canceled.” Hermione said, digging into her own spaghetti as Ginny took another enthusiastic bite of hers.
“Well then, who made it?” Harry asked through a mouthful of pasta. The whole table turned to look up at the conversation. Hermione cleared her throat before answering.
“Ron.”
Simultaneously, Bill, Fleur Charlie, George, Ginny, Harry, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Professor McGonagall spat out their food and pushed their plates away, looking up at Ron with wide eyes.
“Hey! I didn't put anything in it!” Ron roared, taking a large bite of his meal.
“Oh, it's not that, dear.” Mrs. Weasley said reassuringly.
“I need to loose weight for the wedding.” Ginny said, looking quite green.
“Me too.” Harry said, wrinkling his nose.
“Yeah.” agreed Bill, Charlie, and George.
Luna immediately got onto the floor and starting praying.
Percy, who had been to respectable to spit out his own spaghetti, finished chewing and took a long gulp of water, after which he daintily wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. Hermione shrugged and started to eat.
“Mmmm, Ron, this is good.” she called down the table.
“Is it?” Mrs. Weasley said, looking surprised.
“Yeah.” Hermione nodded.
Mrs. Weasley took a tentative bite.
“Ron! I had no idea!” she cried.
“Yes, why didn't you tell us before?” Mr. Weasley asked.
“Dad, he has a talent for making pasta, it's not like he's just come out.” George said. He rolled his eyes, but he was obviously impressed.
Later, Hermione walked down the table, leaned into Ron's ear and said,
“Congratulations. It takes a lot to impress George.”
Then she walked off to make Ron's favorite fudge brownies for dessert.
The day started out very, very simply. Hermione gathered her makeup bag in her arms and went to Harry and Ginny's house to kick Harry out.
“Good MORNING!” she sang in alert to Harry that she was there.
She was answered by a loud scream from the bathroom. Hermione picked up speed and burst into the master bedroom. Harry's spot was empty, as was Ginny's. Hermione knocked on the door.
“Ginny?” she said tentatively.
“WHAT!” Ginny yelled back.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I am NOT alright!” Ginny replied.
“Well... what's wrong?” Hermione asked.
“Check the bed.”
Hermione walked over to the bed and looked at the sheets.
“Oh.” she answered, biting her lip. “That's not good.”
“Yah think!” Ginny said, opening the door to the bathroom. “This day was supposed to be perfect! Now I'm just cramping like there's no tomorrow!”
“It's okay, Ginny.” Hermione said soothingly. “Everything will work out.”
“No, it won't!” Ginny screamed. “LOOK!” she pointed to her chin.
“Oh god.” Hermione said, putting a hand to her head. “That thing's the size of the Eiffel tower.”
“I know.” Ginny moaned.
“Okay, it's okay, we'll just get some 10 second pimple vanisher from George.” Hermione reasoned.
“He's closed for the wedding!”
“Ginny, I think he'll grab some pimple vanisher for his little sister's wedding day.”
“Have I ever mentioned to you that I hate nature?” Ginny said, ignoring Hermione's last comment.
“Come on, Ginny, it'll be fine. Make some tea, settle down, and I'll be back in a few minutes. Where's Harry, by the way?”
“He went to the Burrow earlier. Damn it, that was what that look was! He gave me a strange one while he was kissing me goodbye...”
Hermione went into the fireplace and shouted,
“The Burrow!”
The living room was empty. Hermione took a deep breath, then ran all the way up the stairs to Ron's room, taking two steps at a time. She burst into the door to find a peacefully sleeping Ron lying stretched out on his bed.
“GET UP!” Hermione yelled, banging a pillow over him.
“Wha- Hermione?”
“Where's George?” Hermione asked.
“He's in his old room- why?”
“Ginny got her... never mind.”
“Oh.” Ron said, turning green. “Well, what does George has to do with that?”
“Ginny has a pimple the size of Russia.”
“Ahhh.” Ron said. “Well, just to tell you , George is a pretty sound sleeper, so you're going to have a job getting him up.”
But Hermione had already slammed the door shut behind her and was running noisily down the stairs. Ron scrambled out of bed, then followed her, eager to see what she did to George. She burst into George's room and jabbed the sleeping Weasley with her finger.
“George!” she said urgently. “George wake up.”
“Zzzzzzz. ZZZZZzzzzzz.”
“GEORGE WAKE THE HELL UP.”
“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!”
Hermione hit George over the head with a pillow. Still nothing.
“Aqumenti!” Hermione screamed. Ron watched, amazed, as a stream of water emitted from her wand and streamed onto George's sleeping face, then right into his mouth, caught mid-snore.
“Zzzzz... AHHHHHHHHHHH!” George cried. He spat water out of his mouth. “What the HELL, Hermione?”
“You wouldn't get up.” Hermione said, tucking her wand away.
“It's always the quiet ones that're dangerous.” George muttered.
“George, I need you to get me a bottle of 10 second pimple vanisher right now!”
“Mmmm? Why?”
“Why do you think, you prat! Now GO!”
George looked quite alarmed as he tumbled out of bed and apparated to the shop. Hermione stood in his room, arms crossed, foot tapping, eyes on her watch, until he got back.
“One minute and 50 seconds. What's your problem?”
“Are you serious?” George asked, incredulous. “You're just as mad as my sister is, did you know that?”
“I had no idea. Now, will you give me the bottle before Ginny cancels the wedding?”
“Wait-” George held the bottle back. “She'd cancel the wedding for a zit?” he had a gleam in his eye Hermione didn't like. She looked up to see him exchanging knowing looks with Ron.
“Give me that!” Hermione fumed, grabbing the small put from George's hand and running out of the room. She apparated back into Ginny's flat and found Ginny hyperventilating on the couch.
“Here.” Hermione said, all but throwing the vanisher into Ginny's face. “Enjoy.”
Ginny gave the bottle a kiss.
“Mmm, and I'm sure Harry will love lips that taste clay flavored.” Hermione grinned.
“Hermione? Shut up and do my hair.” Ginny said.
***
Everything was just right. Ginny, the lighting, the dress, the ring, the Burrow. Hermione had never been so proud as she took Ron's arm and walked down the aisle. She didn't even mind the stilettos as she smiled at the people in the audience and tried not to smirk at the puppy-dog on Ron's face. Hermione and Ron reached the gazebo, and separated, nodding at each other. Hermione kissed Harry's cheek, then turned to watch Ginny walk gracefully down the aisle. The look on Harry's face was priceless. Hermione grinned, knowing it was her handiwork (as well as Ginny's good figure, she supposed) that put that look on his face. Ginny reached Harry, seeming shocked that she was actually there. Hermione smiled as the preacher started.
The ceremony was beautiful, perfect, even. No one had any objections. Everything went smoothly. Until the vows. Because Hermione always cried at weddings. It was just something she did. And when Harry and Ginny, her best friends, were getting married, she felt that it was impossible not to cry. So the waterworks started. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly. So quietly, in fact, no one noticed. But then, Ron just had to look over at her. And he saw her crying. And he started to laugh. His whole body shook. Harry didn't notice as he said his vows. The audience did. They all were wondering why Ron was laughing. And then came the snort. When Hermione tried to hold in her laughs and sobs at the same time... it didn't work. She snorted, loud and strong, then started wailing, outright. This set off Mrs. Weasley, which set of the hormonal and very pregnant Fleur, which set off McGonagall, which set off just about everybody in the audience. Harry had just finished his vows, and he turned towards the audience, looking puzzled. Ginny looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh at her friends and family or cry at the ruination of her wedding. She did neither. Instead, she turned to the preacher and said,
“Are we married yet?”
He nodded and Harry dipped and kissed a squealing Ginny. The whole audience clapped and erupted into laughter.
***
“Hello, everybody! It's time for the speeches!” Hermione called down the table. The light chatter immediately stopped, and the crowd turned to Hermione as she started to talk.
“The war was a difficult time for everyone. There was so little hope, echoed by so much loss. But I don't think the war could have been harder for anyone then this couple here. Ginny Weasley had loved Harry Potter since she was just a little girl. Years and years she waited for him to notice her. Unfortunately, she held the title of Ron's one and only little sister, and Harry didn't notice her until 6th year. Ginny didn't recognize it, and Harry never told me, but I knew. I just knew. And I was there the night he first kissed her. He'd gotten into a little trouble in school and had received a detention for the night Ravenclaw played Gryffindor for the house cup. His ex girlfriend was playing his then crush and now wife in a game. Gryffinor won. Ginny was kissed by Harry Potter. She was over the moon that night. Talking about how much she loved him, and how shocked and thrilled she was. But there was one thing she voiced to me, a secret worry that ended up coming true. 'Hermione,' Ginny said, 'He's going to leave me for the battle'. I knew this was true, as well, and I knew it was going to hurt her no matter how much she pretended it didn't.”
Harry, who had been holding Ginny's hand, bit his lip. Ginny shot him a reassuring smile, telling him it was alright.
“When he broke up with her, Ginny wasn't herself for a while. It killed me that I wasn't there to comfort her, but I had the joyous job of hunting horcruxes. When Harry finally had to face Lord Voldemort, I do believe it was Ginny that saved him. And then, after the war, they immediately got back together. It seemed like things were perfect between them. They have been perfect. They talked about it- they can communicate like no other couple I know. And they got together just like that. When Ginny told me she was getting married I blanched at the thought. She just turned 20. But then I realized- why wait? We know they're each other's forever. So, you know that quote that Ginny said when she first got together with Harry? The one about him leaving her for the battle? Well, Ginny, he did once, but in the long run it doesn't matter because you can bet he won't be doing it again.”
The crowd applauded as Hermione stepped back, and Ron stood up, searching his pockets for his note cards. He looked out at the crowd, then turned pale. He took two steps back to Hermione.
“Mione, I don't have my note cards! I left them on my dressing table this morning!”
“Come on Ron, you can do it” Hermione urged quietly, putting her hand on Ron's arm. “I know you can.”
Ron looked into her eyes, then stepped back, still looking at Hermione. Finally, he whirled around to face the crowd.
“Er- hey,” he said. “I'm Ron, Ginny's older brother.”
The crowd snickered. They all knew him.
“Right,” Ron said, cracking a smile. “I know you all, don't I?”
“Yeah, now get on with it, Mate, there's cake to eat, here!” Seamus Finnigan called.
“Okay.” Ron said. “So- I'm the bride's older brother and the groom's best friend. Puts me in a bit of an awkward position, don't you think? Usually, I'd be telling him to shag his girlfriends' pants off, but I had to tell him to keep his hands off of her instead. ”
The crowd laughed appreciatively.
“So.. once upon a time, there was a little girl by the name of Ginny. She was small for her age, loved to talk and she had more freckles then you could count. But the most interesting fact about Ms. Ginny Weasley was the fact that, every night before bed, she requested Harry Potter stories. She wanted to know more, more, more about the boy who lived. She had such a silly crush on him, mum indulged, figuring it'd go away after a while and Ginny would meet a nice, respectable boy at Hogwarts and completely forget about her little crush on Harry Potter. Not bloody likely. Unfortunately, I was silly enough to become best mates with the Harry Potter. I remember what I felt like when I first realized that Harry Potter was on the train and Ginny was asking to see him. Had me befuddled, I'll tell you that right now. I teased the mickey out of her, of course. Until she started dating Michael Corner. I was so frightened. What had happened to the Ginny I knew, the one that was deeply in love with Harry Potter? Why was she now snogging other boys? I'd relied on her childhood crush to keep her pure, untouched in later years. It didn't work.”
Mrs. Weasley had started to cry again. Hermione wasn't that far from it herself.
“Then, in 6th year, everything changed. I started a relationship with Lavender Brown to make my Hermi- I mean, Hermione jealous. I was so absorbed in my own problems-”
“And snogging your girlfriend!” Harry added.
“-I didn't even notice that Harry was returning Ginny's little (now large) crush. When he kissed her after the Quidditch match, I was shocked, although maybe not as shocked as my little sister. She was blown away, and I don't think I've ever seen her so happy- until now, of course. I was just getting used to everything, all the secret smiles and snogging, when Harry broke up with Ginny. I don't think I've ever been so angry. Sure, I was upset when Ginny got together with Harry, but it was nothing like how I felt when he broke it off with her. Seeing my sister depressed and lonely... I was ready to kill Harry. And then the war was over, and they were together again. I was shocked about this. I figured there would be months and months of awkward silences. But no. Harry and Ginny got back together like that. They sat and talked about it, and they were Harry and Ginny again. Harry and Ginny have always been the kind of the couple that can talk. Me and Hermione- we took years to finally admit our feelings for each other. But Harry and Ginny can talk about anything, and that's what makes a great relationship. So, Ginny, I know that you're not the silly little girl that used to have a crush on Harry. And Harry, I now give you full permission to shag my sister silly. Cheers.”
The crowd clapped appreciatively, and Ron sat down looking quite pleased with himself. After cake, however, it was time for the next catastrophe.
“HELLO? HELLO, EVERYONE?” Ginny got up on the stage, grinning. “It's time for me to throw the bouquet, and Harry the garter. For anyone who doesn't know about magical weddings-” (Here she looked pointedly at Dudley Dursley, who had decided to come at the last minute in favor of good wedding cake) “-the garter and bouquet are bewitched so they'll have to tell the truth. Would all the single ladies please go onto the dance floor?”
“Are you coming, Hermione?” Pavarti Patil giggled as she filed onto the dance floor.
“Sure, why not?” Hermione snorted. “who am I going to marry anyway, my 'perfect match'?”
She stepped onto the floor behind Pavarti as Ginny tossed the bouquet over her shoulder. Just her luck, the bouquet came right for her. Hermione, who had been standing on the right side, dived for the left side in a last bid for freedom. The bouquet changed tracks and came towards her again. Lavender Brown shrieked in delight and grabbed the bouquet as it fell into Hermione's arms. She clutched it tightly, but the bouquet sprung up, hitting her on the nose, and going right over to Hermione.
The crowd was silent. No one said anything. Ginny's mouth had fallen open at the proceedings, and Harry was looking stunned as well.
“Here, you can have it.” Hermione muttered to Lavender, face flaming. Lavender took the bouquet, looking quite shocked, but once again it flew out of her arms and over to Hermione.
“Okay, er, time for the garter!” Harry said. He reached up Ginny's leg and snatched the garter down fast as lightning. She leaned down and whispered in his ear,
“We'll try that again later.”
Harry turned red and quickly tossed the garter over his shoulder to get eyes off of his blushing face. And of course, the garter fell into Ron's not-so waiting hands.
“Oh.” Ron said, looking over at Hermione and trying to gauge her reaction.
The crowd was silent. The thing about Harry and Ginny's wedding was that everyone they knew, Hermione and Ron knew as well. Everyone in that room was silently praying for the two to get together. The number of knowing looks exchanged around the room were uncountable as a look of panic crossed Hermione's face. She shook her head, eyes wide, as she walked towards Ron. He stepped out to her, and she squeezed her lids shut before opening them and swallowing hard.
“May I have this dance?” Ron asked tentatively.
Hermione looked up at him, and something in her face changed.
“You may.” Hermione said, and she reached her hand out for him to take.
The music turned on, slowly, and then it stopped. Ginny had leaned into the DJ to make a request. She turned around and looked innocently at Ron and Hermione as “My love, My life” started to play. Hermione grinned slightly despite herself. All of a sudden, she was being dipped and spinned around the dance floor, laughing and enjoying herself. The crowd laughed, shocked and incredulous. Ginny motioned for them to clear off and give Hermione and Ron some space. The crowd turned around and left an oblivious Ron and Hermione on the dance floor.
Then suddenly, Hermione's head was leaning on Ron's chest, inhaling the scent only Ron possessed, and feeling his strong arms around her waist.
“I loved your speech, you know.” she said.
“I liked yours better. It was really good, Mione.”
“No, no. It was on paper. Yours was from the heart, Ron. It was so much better then mine.” Hermione said earnestly.
“You really think so?”
“I know so. And I'm not even jealous. I've always been the kind of person to just write things down on paper and never do anything from the heart. For the first time, I'm glad I haven't rubbed off on you.”
“I'm not. I think if you had I'd be a tad bit cleaner.”
They both laughed, then were silent for a bit as they danced.
“You know that as soon as we walk off this dance floor this moment is going to end.”
“So don't talk about it.” Ron said, leaning down and kissing the top of Hermione's head.
“Okay.” Hermione sighed happily, putting her head back on Ron's chest.
But all too soon the dance was done and Hermione had backed away from Ron, smiling, and was going to bid the bride and groom goodbye. As Ginny stepped on the back of Hagrid's moterbike, fixed up for the occasion, Hermione leaned in to give her one last hug.
“I'm sorry I ruined your perfect wedding, Ginny.” she murmured.
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, surprised.
“Well, first, I was the one who started the crying. And second, the bouquet part made the whole thing about me and Ron.”
“Not really. Your beautiful speeches were about me and Harry. And anyway, I think the crying slash laughing thing was pretty romantic. It's certainly a wedding no one's going to forget.”
“Thanks, Ginny. Already the wise married woman, are you?”
“Yep. Just better looking then most. Hey, did you really mean the part about me getting Harry through the war?”
“Definitely.” Hermione reassured Ginny. “Hey- er- what are you going to do about tonight?”
“What? Oh, that. Well... Harry will be disappointed, but waiting 7 days will make it better, right?”
“Whatever you say, Ginny.” Hermione grinned. “Have fun.”
“Will do!” Ginny called as the motorbike sped off, the cans placed in back clanking as they moved.
“It was a good wedding, wasn't it?” Ron said proudly as he watched them go.
“Yep. Hey, who's going to clean up the dining room? I call not it!” Hermione shouted, taking off her heels and running back into the building.
A/N: Well, here's chapter 20. I can't believe we're here already! And we still have sooo many chapters to go. I just wanted to say thank you for all the reviews I've been getting on my chapters. I never expected this much feedback, and I feel remarkably lucky. Your wonderful words make me want to write and update faster then life and school can permit. At the end of the story, I'll give a shout out to all my chapterly reviewers, but in the mean time I just wanted to thank you all anonymously. You have no idea how much your kind words brighten my day. Thanks a million! ~writergirl8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter OR Forest Gump.
The hospital wing was empty, but for Hermione and Ron, who was lying, unconscious, on the bed. He looked peaceful, but his mouth was moving, mumbling things Hermione couldn't hear. She sat down next to him and took his hand, a smile playing across her mouth.
“Er-My-Nee..” Ron mumbled in his sleep, and Hermione wanted to lean down and kiss his perfect lips. All of a sudden, Lavender Brown appeared at the foot of the bed.
“Ron! You are not supposed to be saying HER name. You say MY name! Lav-en-der!”
“He can say my name all he wants to!” Hermione argued, indignant. “You have no right to tell him what to do!”
“Of course I do! I'm his girlfriend!”
“Well, I'm his future wife!” Hermione shot back, putting her hands on her hips and knowing that she had bested Lavender.
“No you're not!” Lavender screamed.
“Yes I am! I caught to bouquet! He caught the garter!”
Lavender opened her mouth to say something else, but all of a sudden there was a knock on the hospital wing door and Ron's voice saying 'Er-my-nee, Er-my-nee' over and over and over again.
Hermione was woken up by a knock on the door. She let out a moan and checked her clock. Merlin.
“IT'S EIGHT O'CLOCK!” she yelled to the person. “COME BACK IN AN HOUR!”
“CAN'T!” A voice shouted back. “IT'S ABOUT THE DATE!”
“Oh.” Hermione said, tumbling out of bed and going to let Ron in. “Hi, Ron. What do you want?”
“Some coffee. Do you have any? Oh, yeah, and they're come to come over here and explain about the date in about a half an hour.”
“Shoot.” Hermione said. “Here, you know where the coffee is. Let me go change.”
Ron started to follow Hermione, then blushed and stepped back. Hermione gave him a raised-eyebrow look, walked over to her room and closed the door slowly shut behind her. She breathed a loud sigh, then sank along the door and to the floor, wishing that she could go back into her dream and find out what happened in the end. A pressure from the other side of the door told her Ron too had slumped behind it and was leaning against it for support. Finally she got up and put on a pair of leggings and a periwinkle shirt outfit Ginny had told her would look fantastic for a date. She then walked back into the kitchen and enjoyed the effect her outfit had on Ron.
“Do you want some cinnamon buns?” Hermione asked.
“Er- sure.” Ron said. Hermione turned to the stove and set to making the breakfast treat. When she was done, she sat down across from Ron and gave him one. Ron took a tentative bite, then smiled.
“I love these.” he confessed. “You used to make them all the time.”
“I haven't made them in a while.” Hermione admitted, stirring some sugar into her tea.
“I know.” Ron said simply, taking a bite and beaming at Hermione. She let herself get lost in his grin for a few seconds before tearing her eyes away and turning the subject to the newly wed Potters.
“Have you heard from Harry and Ginny lately?” she asked.
“No. I think they're still on the honeymoon. Although they can't do much, because of Ginny's womanly problem.”
“I though you were okay with them? You made that moving speech at the wedding...”
“All show. Didn't really mean it.” Ron said, shrugging.
Hermione gave him the eye.
“You know, despite the fact you pretend to be all solid as a rock, I think you have some mush somewhere in there.”
“You are pretty good at bringing it out.” Ron agreed, looking at the way the morning sunlight was playing across Hermione's hair.
“I didn't say that.” Hermione argued, blushing red.
“You didn't have to. It's true.”
“Do you think maybe this is the way it should be? You and me, I mean. Just friends, sitting at the breakfast table, talking?”
“No. We're in love. We can't just be friends.” Ron said. “We never were, really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, okay, maybe for 2 years. But we had crushes on each other, whether we realized it or not, for most of our school careers.”
“I know, but Ron, it's so easy to just sit here and talk. We don't need the perfect match to do that for us!”
“Hermione, we sat in bed or on the couch or at the table and talked for hours and hours, not doing anything but using words. Our relationship wasn't all about snogging and sex.”
“Maybe that's not what being in love is!” Hermione shouted, her voice rising to hysteria. “Maybe love is snogging! I don't know anymore, I just don't KNOW!”
She sat back down, breathing heavily.
“Look at Harry and Ginny. You heard what you said in your speech, Mione, a good relationship is good communication.”
“All show. Didn't really mean it.” Hermione mimicked.
“So you can honestly tell me that you didn't feel a thing whenever we kissed or held hands, and that the only thing you think we are is friends?”
“Isn't a relationship just a friendship with snogging?” Hermione asked helplessly, trying to find the answers herself. “What's the point?”
“Love.” Ron said. “And that doesn't answer the question.”
“When did you get so goddamn philosophical?”
“You're avoiding the question...” Ron sang.
And then Hermione was caught, caught in a web she had helped to build, a wed of lies and careful construction of her expressions. Of making Ron believe she didn't care anymore.
“I... I...”
There was a loud knock on the door, and Colin Love's voice rang through the house.
“Hellooo! It's Colin!”
“Yes?” Ron breathed, completely ignoring the commotion the show's host was making.
“I... have to get the door.” Hermione said. She stood up and walked over to the door, then pulled it open.
“Hello, Ms. Granger. Tell me, is it true that you and Mr. Weasley used to live here together?”
“Emphasis on the 'used to', Mr. Love. Please, do come in.” Hermione said, trying to cover up the shaky feeling she was carrying in her stomach with rude sarcasm.
Colin and the camera crew filed in to the house, then arranged themselves around Hermione's living room, Colin sitting on the couch and the rest of the crew gathering around him.
“Ron! Ron, get in here!” Hermione yelled, and Ron ambled into the room. Hermione noticed he had a little bit of sticky bun on his upper lip.
Don't do it. Don't do it, Hermione.
“You've got a little bit of sticky bun..” she said quietly, then reached up and wiped it off of Ron's upper lip with great care. Then she turned away quickly before she could see his expression.
“Your next date is going to put you on a jet plane and drop you off in the middle of nowhere. You and Ron will have to find your way back to the plane using a virtually useless map and your wits. If it comes it finding food, you'll have to do it. If it doesn't come to that, congratulations. Any questions?”
“Yes. Isn't dropping us off in the middle of nowhere rather dangerous?”
“Not that question.” Colin said, through a plastered on smile. “Any other questions?”
“No.” Hermione said, sitting grumpily back onto the couch.
“Good.” Colin said. “Now, I suggest you put on shorts and a tank top, Hermione. Although the viewers will probably love this outfit in any other situation, I think, because of where you're going, you might be a little overheated.”
“Fine, then.” Hermione said, nodding.
“Right, we'll see you in the back lot of the studio in about an hour. Camera people, why don't you stay behind and interview our young lovebirds?”
Hermione scowled at Colin.
“Would you show me to the door, Ms. Granger?”
“It's right there. Show yourself to the door.”
“I don't like your attitude, Miss Granger.”
“I don't like being called 'lovebirds' with Ron. Even, aren't we?”
Colin shook his head and showed himself to the door. Ron swallowed hard and looked up and Hermione from the couch.
“I'm going to go change.” Hermione said. She paused. “Again.”
Then she walked over to the bedroom and put on a pair of dark denim short shorts and a light blue tank top, then looked at her hair. It was crazy out of control. She let out a moan and walked over to Ginny's Christmas gift from two years ago, a book full of (Hermione had to admit) helpful spells all about beauty.
“Hairatious Straitenios!” Hermione said, pointing her wand towards her hair. It instantly straitened, except for one small piece that was still pretty frizzy. Hermione groaned. Beauty spells were her weakness.
“Curlify!” She said, pointing her wand at the specific lock of hair. “Ponyus Updolio!”
By the time she was done, most of her hair was perfectly strait, but for the curly sections, and it had been pulled into a neat, no bumps ponytail.
“Damn I'm good.” Hermione grinned, surveying herself in the mirror. “Who needs Ginny?”
She was feeling so brave, she decided to try the 'Makeupado!” spell, which took her a few times to get right. By the time she was done, Ron was pounding on the door.
“Hermione, come on!” he exclaimed.
“One second!” Hermione called airily
“One one-thousand... DONE!” Ron retorted.
“10 minutes!” Hermione sang in a high soprano voice.
“Is there someone in there with you?” Ron said, rudeness soaked into his tone.
“No!” Hermione said, fiddling with her earrings.
“Hermione, I'm coming in there, dammit!”
Then, the door had burst open, and Ron was staring at Hermione, his eyes wide.
“Wow.” he said. “You look... brilliant.”
He went over to the bed and sat down.
“You look different from when Ginny does your make-up. I can't place my finger on it, though... maybe you're just more understated.”
“Like, the makeup enhances my features instead of covering them up?”
“Er- yeah, something like that.” Ron said, his makeup knowledge having reached its maximum limit.
“Ready to go?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, sure.” Ron got up from the bed and started to walk out the door. Hermione noticed that, while she'd been playing around with beauty spells, Ron had changed into khaki pants and a blue shirt that exactly matched his eyes. Just seeing this made her grab her perfume bottle and spray the comforting scent all over herself. It helped too that Ron loved it.
***
Three hours later, Hermione and Ron were seating on the company airplane, watching a muggle movie called 'Forest Gump'. Ron figured it was a good choice, because it was making Hermione cry and it was making him laugh. He'd never really figured out how that worked. How, while he always tried to find the lighter side of situations and not take anything seriously, Hermione could not for the life of her manage to avoid the dark side, now matter how hard she wanted to laugh. She had to be logical and think situations through, carefully reviewing the point of view from each side. Sometimes Ron scoffed at it. Sometimes he appreciated it. Sometimes he was afraid of it.
If the mugge movie was supposed to be distracting him, however, it wasn't working. It was distracting him from all sense of direction, yes. Seeing as little plastic shields had been placed over the windows, not even Hermione could tell where they were. No, what was distracting Ron was the scent of Hermione's vanilla cinnamon perfume, wafting over to him and tickling his nostrils, admittedly making him want to pin her down and sniff her neck, just so the scent could be his, all his. He chanced a glance at Hermione. Silent tears were rolling down her cheek. Ron glanced at the scene and realized that Forests' wife (or whatever she was, Ron hadn't really kept track) had just kicked the bucket.
“It's okay, 'Mione.” Ron said, eagerly trying to make her feel better. “All those drugs, you knew it was coming.”
At that Hermione turned to Ron, eyes wide (he didn't know how, but somehow her makeup had stayed perfectly intact, a sure sign that she was ten times better at anything then Ginny).
“Ron!” she trilled. “You insensitive jerk!”
And of course, she started to cry again. Ron shook his head. He would never get women. Or Hermione. Or just plain old women. They were so weird. It was almost like they weren't human. Either that or they were too human, with all their weird emotions and all.
“Mr. Weasley? Ms. Granger? We've arrived at the spot you're going to get off.”
The credits of the movie stopped rolling and Colin's face popped onto the screen.
“Under your seat, you'll find a map. Please pull it out.”
Ron reached under his seat and pulled it out.
“This map is going to lead you back to this plane, which you will be jumping out of shortly.”
“WHAT?” Hermine shrieked.
“Don't worry, Ms. Granger, it'll be fine. We'll make Mr. Weasley go first, if you like.”
“Hmm, comforting.” Hermione said sarcastically.
“Yes, very.” Colin said. “Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed your flight with Perfect Match Airlines. I daresay we'll be seeing you soon. If you can find us.”
A dolled up flight attendant came out with a backpack and gave one each to Ron and Hermione. Ron noticed she had applied what looked like ample amounts of lipstick to her cheek, and even more to her lips. He could in fact smell the scent of her pina-colada lip gloss, and could tell she'd applied mascara to her atrociously long fake eyelashes.
“These have enough food and water for a few days and some envelopes containing instructions, plus a wildlife survival booklet in Hermione's pack.” the woman said. “Oh, and a parachute.”
“Not just in mine, right?” Hermione said, looking over at Ron as though she wouldn't mind if he fell without one.
“No, in both.”
Ron stuck his tongue out at Hermione and she rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat again. Just then, the hatchback opened.
“Have fun!” the attendant said, then vanished once again into the back cabin where neither Ron nor Hermione could see her. Ron strapped on his backpack and walked over to the edge.
“I recommend you don't look at the ground.” Ron hinted to Hermione, before, using all the courage being an auror had given him, jumping out of the plane. As soon as he was out, and his parachute was up, Ron felt the most wonderful feeling, the feeling of complete happiness and peacefulness. He was disappointed when it landed, but not very when Hermione landed in a heap just beside him, coughing at the dust that had risen when the pair had fallen.
Just then, the plane flew down and landed. Red carpeted steps descended, and out walked Colin Love. He tentatively stepped to the bottom step, took in a deep, confident breath, then spread out his arms, grinned widely and said,
“Welcome to nowhere.”
Then he saluted them and walked back into the plane. It took off, leaving Hermione and Ron in a fresh cloud of dust. As the dust settled to reveal a coughing Hermione and lots of sand dunes, Ron couldn't help agree with Colin.
That's right. He thought glumly. Welcome to nowhere.
Once Hermione had finished her seemingly infinite cough-a-thon, Ron decided it was time for him to take charge. He'd read in a magazine that women liked men who were took the lead and were confident... or maybe men liked women who took the lead and were confident? Well, he couldn't remember, but that wasn't the point.
“You ready to go?” Ron asked casually.
“Yeah.” Hermione coughed, putting her hand up to her mouth and making a little face. Ron smiled. It was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. To cover up the elated feeling it gave him, he covered his face with the map and pointed his finger to it.
“Okay so... the plane is here.” he said, pointing.
“Okay...” Hermione said. “Now, where are we?”
“We're... well, it doesn't say.”
“What?” Hermione said, surprised.
“Yeah. It doesn't say.”
“Give me that!” Hermione said impatiently, grabbing the map. Her mouth dropped open as she frantically searched it.
“You're right!” Hermione said, her voice high pitched. “It doesn't show where we are!”
Ron cursed quietly under his breath.
“Well, what do we do now?”
“We'll just have to ask for directions.” Hermione said reasonably. She turned to start walking, but stopped when she realized that his eyes were on her back, instead of walking.
“Well?” Hermione said, crossing her arms. “What is it?”
“We don't need to ask for directions!” Ron said, looking at Hermione as if George's missing ear had just appeared on her forehead.
“Yes, we do.” Hermione snapped. “Now let's GO.”
She started to walk again, but Ron snatched the map out of her pack.
“I can find out where we are.” Ron said, puffing out his chest as he looked at the map.
Hermione looked at him in disbelief, her mouth wide open. She straitened up and started to walk away for the third time.
“When you're finished being Percy...” she called over her shoulder.
“I refuse to ask directions!” Ron cut in.
Hermione let out a loud groan.
“Ronald, are you serious? Get off of your high horse... Ginny told me men didn't like to ask directions...” Hermione shook her head in disgust.
“See, this is why it took us so long to get together.” she spat at him, stomping off. Ron stood there, in shock, then in three bounds caught up to Hermione and matched her stride.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked heatedly.
“Nothing.” Hermione said, her face red from anger and embarrassment.
“Hey, if it was my fault we took so long to be together, it was your fault it ended.”
“No, it wasn't!” Hermione said huffily. “You were half Ron half alcoholic!”
“I couldn't see you over your work!” Ron challenged.
“Oh, well excuse me for trying to abolish pure-blood rights, then!” Hermione screamed, her hair growing bushier by the millisecond. “Merlin, aren't I just a selfish bitch?”
“Yeah!” Ron shouted. “You ARE! I'm sure the purebloods were just fine until you came along.”
“You didn't have that opinion when I got the job!” Hermione retorted.
“Yeah, well we were still together when you got the job, weren't we? I had a fair chance of getting into your pants, didn't I?” Ron bellowed.
“AUUGGG!” Hermione cried, stomping her foot and sitting down right smack in the middle of the road.
“What're you doing?” Ron asked, lowering his voice.
“I'm staying here until further notice.” Hermione said.
“In human speak, please?” Ron snorted.
“I'm not going anywhere with you, you bastard.” Hermione said, crossing her arms. Ron stood there for a moment. Then he shook his head, bent down and picked up Hermione, heaving her over his shoulder.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Hermione screamed.
“I'm getting us to the goddamn jet plane.”
“PUT ME DOWN!”
“NO!”
Hermione started to beat her fists against Ron's back. He smirked and kept walking.
“When did you get so strong?” Hermione gasped.
“Dunno.” Ron said, grinning so broadly Hermione could have knocked all of his teeth out.
Hermione finally let her body relax, and Ron started to relish the moment. They were both quiet, and instead of having Hermione hurled over his shoulder she was more cradled in Ron's arms. Hermione breathed in Ron's scent, a feeling of peace washing over her. Right then, she wanted nothing better then to kiss Ron. She moved her head toward him, inhaling his scent, her lips aiming right at his. Ron seemed to realize what she was about to do. And he dropped her.
“Er- I think you can walk on your own now.” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Oh.” Hermione said, aghast. “Alright.”
She started to walk again, dirt kicking up at her heels. Ron tried to catch up, but she pulled away, her face burning. He'd wanted to get kissed by Hermione, willingly, for a long time. Why all of a sudden was he shying away? Hermione's stomach plummeted. Was he moving on?
Ron had shoved his hands into his pockets, immediately regretting his decision. He wanted nothing more then to feel Hermione's hand in his, her warm lips on his, her beautiful smile bestowed onto his face. Why had he pushed her away? Why hadn't he taken advantage of her strange emotion toward him?
That was it. He didn't want to take advantage of the fact that Hermione was feeling frightened. Or maybe she was impressed by his new muscles. Ron grinned proudly, then his grin vanished. He'd finally caught up to Hermione, and her face had fallen into lines of sadness and confusion. Ron's stomach flopped. He hated that expression. It made him feel terrible, even if he hadn't done anything. Ron didn't know what to do or what to say. Instead, he moved his hand close to Hermione's, being careful to not hold hers, and kept on walking.
They were silent for most of the treck. There weren't many turns, and no forks at all. In short, Hermione and Ron had managed to avoid the hard part. So far. Now, it was getting dark, and Ron could see Hermione's eyes starting to glaze over. She was getting the look she got when she was tired and hungry.
“Why don't we stop here?” Ron asked.
“Here?” Hermione said. She looked around. It was a dry patch of dirt, nothing special. Hermione wrinkled her nose and checked her map. “Lets see... there's a meadow around the corner. Why don't we slee- er- go there?”
“Yeah.” Ron said, and he allowed Hermione to take the lead, walking with her nose buried in the map, as she'd done with books so many times before. It was sad, really, how much her knew about her.
“Here it is.” Hermione said 5 minutes later, stopping in front of a large, green meadow.
“How is this so green?” Ron asked incredulously, looking back at the dirt road. Hermione glanced behind her too, then pointed to a sign.
“Property of 'Sweet Wizard Studios'” she said dryly. “They're the people who own 'The Perfect Match'.”
“That explains it.” Ron said, plopping down and opening his rucksack. He took out a sleeping bag, some water, some corn bread and some matches. Hermione reached into her backpack and pulled out a sleeping bag as well, plus a medium sized steak.
“Well. It seems they had little faith in us.” Hermione said good naturedly.
“I guess we should go get some firewood.” Ron said.
“Yeah.” Hermione said, getting up and stretching. “Let's go.”
She walked into the forest, Ron trailing behind her. Once she was basically out of sight, he squeezed his eyes shut and said,
“Accio logs and firewood!”
Immediately, woods of all different shapes and sizes started to fly at him. Ron brought the smaller ones back in his arms, levitating the two that would be good for sitting on. When he saw Hermione coming, he lifted the gigantic log over his shoulder and pretended he had been working just as hard as she had.
“Ron!” Hermione said. “That log's huge! Did you carry it all the way from the pond in the forest?”
“Yeah.” Ron said, grimacing in a brave sort of fashion.
“Wow.” Hermione said, looking impressed. “Well, er, set that down.”
She started to arrange the logs and light the fire. Ron watched her carefully while he dragged the two large logs around her workplace. When Hermione had put the steak on a large stick and started to make it, then sat back on a log. Ron opened his little box of cornbread.
“Here, to tide us over.” he said, his mouth watering from the scent of the steak. They ate, chewing quietly.
“The fire's warm, isn't it.” Hermione said, searching desperately for something to say. Ron discarded her comment.
“This reminds me of the hunt.” he said.
“How so?” Hermione asked, looking at him intently.
“Well, we had to fend for ourselves, and cook for ourselves. It was a horrid affair.”
“But someone had to do it.” Hermione joked. Then she sighed. “We got ourselves into this one, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the breakup was both of our faults.”
“I wish it had never-”
Ron's sentence was interrupted by the meat bursting into flames. Hermione let out a shriek and put them out. She grabbed the steak viciously and smacked it onto her plate, then started to eat it vigorously, as if it had done some personal wrongdoing to her that could never be forgiven.
“Ehem.” Ron cleared his throat.
“Oh.” she said. “Here.”
She handed Ron his steak. They ate in silence, then crawled into their respective sleeping bags. Hermione turned over on the hard earth, uncomfortable with both the physical and mental disadvantages of her sleeping position.
“Why didn't you kiss me?” she asked, her voice quiet. “I was trying to kiss you... to give you what you wanted. Why didn't you kiss me?”
“I don't know.” Ron said, his voice as confused as Hermione felt. “Something just didn't feel right about kissing you just then... I'm sorry if I hurt you. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.” he said fervently, and Hermione knew he wasn't just talking about not kissing her earlier that day.
So it wasn't that he didn't love her. Hermione breathed in a sigh of relief. They were both silent, then. Hermione chanced a look at Ron's face. He was deep in thought about something. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. All of a sudden, Ron got a resolved look on his face. He took in a deep breath and started to speak.
“In sixth year, I got together with Lavender Brown to make you jealous. Ginny had just told me that you kissed Viktor Krum. I felt... weird. I'd thought he was out of my- your- life when he left at the end of fourth year. Then I find out you kissed him. It was an emotion seconded to nothing- not even what I felt in fourth year when I found out he was taking you to the ball. You looked so beautiful, yet you weren't mine.”
Hermione was sitting straight up now, alert, her head propped on her hands, held up by her elbows. Ron was lying on his back, staring up at the stars and the night sky. His voice was a bit strangled, but he went on.
“It was jealousy, I realized, and that scared me, although I wouldn't admit it. I didn't talk about my feelings for you to anyone- not Harry, not mum, not my brothers. I wish I had. They would have advised me not to do anything with Lavender, and the whole mess would have been avoided. But then I thought, hey, you didn't wait for me, right? You probably didn't like me. And anyway, I wanted to be your first kiss. I wanted to be the man you remembered forever, who you told your children stories about. Who signified the happiest time of your life. But right then, all I wanted, all I could make sense of, was the fact that I wanted you to feel that ripping sensation in your stomach, the way I did every time I saw you with Viktor, or even heard his name. He had everything I wanted- including the most important thing in the world to me, even if I hadn't figured that out yet.”
Hermione sat in silence, feeling breathless. She didn't say anything, just turned in her sleeping bag and felt tears prickle into her eyes.
“Well?” Ron said, his voice impatient and worried.
“Say something.” he pleaded. “Anything, please.”
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, then spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully, as if she couldn't mess this up.
“We'd made so much progress.” she said. “And then you went to kiss her. I'd just started to think there was a chance that you liked me. I couldn't understand why you'd turned to her. It made me so hurt, so bitter, so angry and jealous. Just like you wanted, I guess.”
She paused, then started up again, on a different track.
“I'm not sure when I started to like you as more then just a friend. Maybe it was there from the beginning. The first time I became extremely conscious of anything remotely different with you and Harry was at the end of second year. I hugged Harry, but somehow the thought of hugging you made my insides twist with excitement and fright. I still remember that. I couldn't do it. I never hugged you. I didn't really touch you either. The thought always brought the same feeling to me, delight and fear.”
She felt tired now, like she'd lived 100 years in the last few minutes. She couldn't get to sleep. Hermione forced herself to keep going.
“When I was in the Malfoy Manor, being tortured, I couldn't think of anything to live for that was worth the pain. Books weren't enough. The satisfaction of killing Voldemort wasn't enough. My parents crossed my mind, but I couldn't do it even for them. And then I heard your voice. Screaming my name. It was like a life preserver, it kept me conscious. I concentrated on it, as faint as it was. I told myself it was like studying for a test. The thing was, I already knew it so well, your voice. But I still completely enjoyed myself. Maybe it's because I love your voice. Maybe it was because you came back, after I'd cried over you so many nights. Maybe it was because I knew I loved you, and I couldn't bear to think about leaving this world without telling you that. Maybe it was all of those reasons, put together. All I know is that, the first time I ever kissed you, it was like my first kiss. Because, somehow, it just didn't compare to the tiny little peck Viktor gave me, even if he'd tried to make it more. Somehow, your scent, your lips... you made me forget about the battle, about everything. It was just you and me, winning the battle that we'd been fighting for seven years, the most important seven years of our lives so far. We grew and changed so much in that time, and we watched each other do it, making us know each other better then anyone else, even our parents.”
“And now we've undergone an unsuspected attack.” Ron whispered, just loud enough for Hermione to hear.
“Yeah.” Hermione said.
“But, Mione, we got through one final battle, and I'm sure we can get through another one.”
Hope curled in Hermione's stomach, and she chose not to answer him, instead curling into a tight ball and trying to squeeze the pain out.
The pair woke up early the next morning, decidedly avoiding each other's eyes. Their faces were a bit red as they collected their things and started to walk again. Midway through the morning, Hermione's stomach began to growl. She didn't- couldn't- say anything.
The revelations both she and Ron had made last night were hanging between them in the air, still registering in a way. Hermione kept replaying his words, her eyes closed, concentrating on them. She didn't bother to find a hidden meaning. She didn't think she'd ever heard more blatantly true words spoken. It made her stomach jolt in excitement.
Then she looked over at Ron. Hermione had never seen his face so contorted in thought before. He looked so devastatingly confused, and Hermione felt her heart break at the look on his face. When you loved someone, she realized, you never wanted them to feel pain. You never wanted them to have a bad dream, or feel sad. You never wanted them to get hurt, physically or emotionally. And Hermione realized that she had in fact inflicted more pain on the one she loved then she could ever repair.
This thought made her throat ache, bottom lip start to wobble, eyes start to fill with tears. She felt the need to reach over to Ron and burrow her face in his neck, to tell him how sorry she was. She closed her eyes and kept on walking, her senses on the rhythm of her feet. If she accidentally walked off of a cliff, so be it. She didn't care. Ron might, though.
“Would you care if I jumped off of a cliff?” Hermione asked Ron unthinkingly. He instinctively grabbed her and pulled her roughly against his chest, trapping her in place.
“Yes!” he hissed.
“Ron, it was theoretical! Ron, you're hurting me!”
“Theoretical! Hermione, you do not theoretically ask someone if they'd be okay if you jumped off a cliff.”
“I just did, now didn't I?” Hermione said, her jaw set determinedly. “Now let GO!”
She decided not to mention what was making her gleeful, that, after all this time, Ron still grabbed her to hold her in exactly the right place, without even thinking about it. She instead did a bit of a conga dancing when he had turned away from her, looking at the valley below. Then she watched closely as he spat, crossed his hands over his face, and turned back to her.
“Sorry.” Hermione offered. He acted like he didn't hear her. He walked away, fast, just like she had done to him just the day before. “RON!” Hermione shouted, trying to catch up to him. Ron walked faster still, and Hermione watched his retreating back, open mouthed. She started to walk, faster now, calling out his name. He flicked his wand, and suddenly Hermione was blown back with a scream. He'd put a shield between them. Hermione stayed in her sitting position on the ground, coughing and spluttering.
“Bastard!” she shouted after her ex's back, but he didn't even turn around. Furious, Hermione scrambled up and started to run after him.
“I want to be alone.” Ron said.
“Well too bad!” Hermione screamed. She removed his shield, caught up with him and grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug.
In retrospect, she had no idea the effect it would have on the both of them. The awkwardness and anger it ensured to cause. All she wanted was to annoy the hell out of Ron, and this seemed to be the best way to do it. By invading his space, and holding him as tightly as she could. She buried her face into his shoulder and clasped her arms tightly around his waist.
“Gerroff!” Ron said, and Hermione remembered the time she had set birds on him, right after he'd kissed Lavender Brown. She laughed, and her joy seemed to be too much for Ron. He threw her off him, and Hermione was once again laying in the dirt.
“You ASS!” she said, and she raised her wand and stunned him.
Ron froze, obviously, mid-step. Hermione got up, seething, her face turning blotchy with anger. She turned circles around him, her eyes narrowed. She was inflicting more fear in him then his mum during a cleaning rampage.
“You think you can just stomp all over me! That you can throw me down and maybe, possibly I won't get up. Well SCREW YOU! I will get up every single time, and you know it. Ever since I've broken up with you, you've been an asshole. Doing everything you can to make sure I regret it, hooking up with other girls, making me feel bad and sad and guilty. If you'd just given me time-”
A sob got caught in Hermione's throat, and she started over again, more sad this time then angry. She looked into Ron's frozen, tortured eyes as she spoke.
“If you'd given me time, this never would have happened. I would have come running back to you eventually. I love you, I always will, and if you'd had faith in that you wouldn't have been so upset. You should have given me a month at the most to realize that we could work on this together. We could get through this together. But you didn't. You snogged another girl, you went to the bar, you did everything you shouldn't have.”
She started to pace, angry again, at both Ron and herself.
“God, I should have realized it! This wasn't just some Ron acting like a stupid third year thing! This was Ron being completely insecure! Ron thinking that I'd love someone else, anyone else better then him.”
The spell had undone itself, Hermione's mind was completely focused on anything but magic. Ron unfroze, but he stayed in his position. From the look on his face Hermione had hit the nail on the head.
“So that's what you think.” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I'm having a love affair with Harry behind Ginny's back? That I'm with Viktor Krum?”
“You haven't been all that nice, either!” Ron burst unexpectedly.
“What do you mean?”
“The Quidditch date? Viktor Krum? You were trying to make me jealous.”
“It worked.”
“That doesn't make it right. In fact, it should make you feel worse.”
Shame washed over Hermione, and she bent her head and started to walk again.
“You always run away, don't you.” Ron said, matching her stride easily.
“So do you.” Hermione said, her voice somewhat humerus.
“Does that make us perfect for each other, then?” Ron said, trying to find humor in the situation.
“No.” Hermione let out a small, shaky laugh. She couldn't believe she was laughing. It seemed foreign. Like a language she knew, but she wasn't fluent in because she barely practiced.
“Well, what does?” Ron wondered.
“Maybe we aren't perfect for each other.” Hermione suggested.
“I think it's because we've been fighting like an old married couple since third year.” Ron said, smiling.
“Yes, and even then you had terrible judgment. Honestly! Why would my cat eat your rat?”
“In my rat's defense, rats are yummy.”
“Yeah, to cats.”
“Sirius ate rats when he was living in that cave, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.” Hermione said, shuddering. “Yuck.”
“Yeah. Yuck.” Ron said. He smiled down at Hermione, who had stopped suddenly and started to jump up and down. Ron look forward. Their conversation had led them right up to the jet plane.
As Hermione settled into her seat and buckled her seat belt, she glanced over at Ron. She wondered if he remembered. He was looking out the window, and she couldn't see his face, so she couldn't tell. So Hermione said it to herself.
Happy birthday, me.
***
Godrics Hollow was still beautiful and still old. It still had much history, and the fact that Harry Potter had come there made it more popular still. In other words, the place was a beautiful little tourists trap. Hermione was walking up the street, her eyes out for familiar landmarks. Ginny had invited her over, and Hermione had readily agreed. Instead of flooing, however, Hermione choose to walk. It was a bright and sunny day, and her head was spinning with calmness. She walked along the small houses, thinking how pretty the place was. And then she saw it.
A for sale sign was sitting in front of the most beautiful cottage she'd ever seen. It was brown, and white with a white picket fence. It had a little stone path leading up to the front door and a large garden out front. Hermione could almost picture coming home to see a rosy cheeked little girl and a red headed boy playing in the front yard, with Ron leaning down and tending to the garden. She let out a loud 'squee!' and broke into a run. Harry and Ginny's was a good enough distance from the cottage, Hermione noted once she had gotten to their house.
“Ginny! Ginny!” Hermione yelled, running up Ginny and Harry's home. The historical site had been pretty much repaired by wizards, and now Harry and Ginny were living happily in the house the Potters had occupied before they died.
The front door flew open, and Ginny peaked out.
“Hermione!” she said, beaming. “Hi!”
“Hi, Ginny how was your honeymoon?” Hermione asked, hugging Ginny.
“Oh it was lovel..”
“That's great.” Hermione said, letting go. “Listen Ginny, there's this cottage down the road, it's for sale. Can we go see it?”
“Er- why?”
“Because it's amazing!” Hermione cried,stomping a bit in anticipation.
“Don't you want to see my house?” Ginny asked, looking slightly hurt.
“No!” Hermione shrieked. “Get me into that house!”
She felt a bit frantic. She knew she had seen the most perfect, beautiful, angelic thing. She couldn't loose it.
Ginny, however, squared her shoulders.
“We have to find out about the next date in two hours. I was away on my honeymoon for 3 weeks, and, unlike most people, I actually did something for the first few days because I was suffering from my monthly gift. So I have things to tell.”
“Please, Ginny? Pleeeaaaassseeee?”
“Fine.” Ginny sighed.
***
The two women arrived at the house to see the gate opened welcomingly for them. Hermione skipped through it, beaming, and Ginny lagged behind, looking weary. A smiling realitor opened the door. She had pearly teeth, red lipstick, and was wearing a navy blue woman's business suit.
“Hi.” she said. “I'm Sandra. Welcome.”
“Hi.” Hermione smiled at the woman as the two walked into the sunny house. The foyer was large, and the top of it was made of glass so Hermione could see out of the room.
“That's one of my favorite features.” the woman said, spotting Hermione's gaze.
“It's beautiful.” Hermione breathed.
“Hmph.” said Ginny.
Sandra led them into the dining room, right off of the foyer. There was a set of doors, as well as a window like thing with two doors that opened into the room. Hermione and Ginny walked through the door and into the kitchen.
“This is the kitchen.” Sandra said. It was large and comfortable, with a beautiful set of French doors leading outside onto a porch and a woodsy backyard. There was a window looking out into it.
“That's very useful if you have kids.” Sandra said, pointing.
As well as having room for the table, the room had a breakfast bar near the stove. Hermione could picture the two children from the garden sitting there as she served them breakfast, Ron pouring coffee in the background.
“Leave him out of this.” she whispered to herself, smiling as Sandra pointed to the half wall that led into the family room.
“And there's an extra room in here, a den or an office.” Sandra said, pointing. “Well, that's the downstairs. Would you like to go up?”
“No.” said Ginny.
“Please.” said Hermione, glaring at Ginny.
They walked up the winding wood staircase, Hermione sliding her hand up the banner gently. The rooms were large, and each had a little window seat or a balcony. The master bedroom had both, and there was a large bathroom and a walk in closet to boot.
“Wow.” Hermione said, her eyes wide as she looked into the bathroom.
“Please.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “You'd need to pack a lunch just to take a shower.”
“Shhh, Ginny.” Hermione hushed, walking into the closet.
The two thought they were done until Sandra led them to a tiny room next to the bathroom. It had a large staircase, and Hermione started walking, a sense of excitement curling in her stomach. It was a tower.
“Oh.” she said, once she'd reached the top. She had no words to say.
The room was a tiny little square, with french doors that opened to a balcony that wrapped all the way around the house. Hermione could picture bookshelves lining the room, a comfortable couch to sit and read on. A telescope out on the balcony.
“This is simply amazing.” she said, her voice longing.
“Isn't it?” the saleswoman grinned.
“Why would anyone leave a house like this?” Hermione asked.
“They were a family of 3, a fourth coming along. 3 was a little snug, but the fourth child would just be uncomfortable. The right number to stop at in this home is two or three. Would you like to buy?” Sandra asked.
“I'll think about it.” Hermione fibbed, her stomach sinking. She was already attached to the cottage-house, could already imagine herself growing old in it. But the fact was she simply didn't need another house, and she couldn't afford even the slightest increase in price at the moment. And she couldn't leave her apartment. It had too many memories that she needed.
“Let's go, Ginny.” Hermione said.
“Finally.” Ginny answered, and the two walked out of the house, leaving Sandra smiling endlessly behind them.
“There you are!” Harry called as the two approached the house. “Hi, love. Hi, Hermione. Where have you two been?”
“Hermione wanted to see the house for sale down the street.” Ginny said after stretching on her toes to kiss Harry. Hermione rolled her eyes, then jumped as a voice tickled her ear.
“They haven't gotten past the newly wed stage yet.”
She laughed, fake, then turned to look at Ron.
“Hi, Ron. How are you?”
“Fine.” Ron said, shrugging. Hermione followed him into the kitchen and the two left Harry and Ginny snogging in the front hallway. “So you saw a house you liked?”
“Well, it's more of a cottage.” Hermione said, watching as Ron opened the fridge and inspected its contents. “Good for a family of two or three.”
She blushed as she spoke.
“Where is it, again?” Ron asked casually.
“Down the street,” Hermione said, suspicious. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” Ron said too quickly. Hermione was about to challenge him on this, but shut her mouth when Ron turned to her and started to speak again.
“Lets just forget about what happened the last date. I don't want awkwardness. Lets just act like we used to when we were at school. Admiring from afar, fighting and the like.”
“Got it.” Hermione said. “In that case, aren't you going to offer me a water bottle?”
Ron grinned and went over to the fridge, then tossed a water bottle over to Hermione. She caught it, opened it and took a long sip.
“Mmmm.” she groaned. “I needed that.”
Ron eyed her for a few seconds, then opened his mouth to say something. He was interrupted by Hermione.
“So Ron, you're living at Harry and Ginny's old house now?”
“Yeah.” Ron said. “It's really big, though. I'm thinking of selling it and moving into my own flat.”
“Oh, it's okay to wimp out. Living on your own for your first time can be scary.” Hermione teased.
“I'm not wimping out!” Ron protested. “It's the cleaning!”
“Oh, the cleaning.” Hermione laughed. “Get someone to clean, then.”
“Ginny says I should get married.”
The two sat uncomfortably, and the vision of Ron and the two redheaded angels in the front yard of the cottage flashed through Hermione's mind as Harry and Ginny walked into the room.
“Okay, so Colin couldn't make it.” Ginny said, looking very pink. “We have to tell you the next date.”
Harry glanced down at the gold envelope Ginny held in her hands.
“And you're not going to like it.” he said, smirking.
“Just tell us really fast.” Ron said.
“Like ripping off a band aid.” the pair said at the same time. Instead of blushing like the time they both ordered a BLT on the first date, the couple turned to each other and shouted,
“JINKS!”
“It was me.” Hermione said.
“No way.” Ron said, puffing up like a peacock. “Me.”
“No, I was completely first!” Hermione argued.
“Shut up like you're supposed to!” Ron said, grinning and scowling at the same time.
“Like h...” Hermione started, but Ginny held up a hand to stop her.
“Stop it, you two.” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Oooh, the responsible married woman has spoken.” Ron said and Hermione gave him a gentle high five under the table.
“It was obviously Hermione, Ron.” Harry said. “She was a millisecond faster.”
Hermione and Ron snorted as Ginny's face turned incredulous.
“Harry, we played that game when we were five!”
“Lay off, he missed half his childhood.” Hermione instructed between peals of laughter. She was practically toppling over Ron.
“You two are going to be locked up in a house with a simulated baby for a whole week and a half.” Ginny shouted, and the two instantly stopped laughing.
“What?” Hermione gasped. Beside her, Ron was doing a very good impression of a fish.
“They're going to give you an enchanted baby doll and you two have to take care of them in a small house for a week.” Ginny was smirking, and Harry was grimacing sympathetically at Ron and Hermione. They looked at each other, eyes wide.
“And a half.” Harry added, before becoming silent again.
“That's over the line.” Hermione said suddenly. “Last time they led us to a foreign country. Now we have to play house!”
“They'll supply clothes for you.” Ginny said. “And, Ron, you'll have to wake up at 6 AM to go to an office they've created right off of the house. Hermione, you'll have to go into work as well for three of the days. Ron's going to be filling out paperwork for the office, and Hermione you'll obviously be going to be working on some legal documents.”
“Oh no.” Ron said, resting his head on the table.
“Yeah.” said Ginny. “Hermione, you also have to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner and do Ron's laundry.”
“Does Ron have to do laundry?” Hermione protested.
“Nope.” Harry said, looking down at the letter.
“That's completely sexest!” Hermione argued.
“Hermione, you'll go shopping for baby clothes and food for all of you in a fake store they've created off of the house. Basically, you two are locked in until the 12 days are up. Don't worry, there's a closed in backyard. With a pool and a hammock”
This, however, was a small comfort.
Ron arrived in front of the special house next morning after a fitful sleep. He hadn't gotten much, and the neighbors had cheerfully commented on his lack of snores that morning when he went to get the daily prophet from his front porch, where he had the owl deliver it rather then waking him up.
He'd gotten the rose from the perfect match and had portkeyed to the house after dressing and having an extra long gulp of coffee. Nerves had settled in his stomach, and he was finding it relatively hard to breathe. Hermione was already there, early bird that she was, and she was frowning, as if deep in thought about that something. Ron walked up to her.
“Morning.” he said.
“Good morning.” Hermione answered.
“What are you thinking about?” Ron asked.
“Hmm?” Hermione hummed, still absentminded.
“You looked like you were thinking really hard.”
Hermione looked up at Ron, surprised, when Colin started to talk.
“Pick a card.” he said, thrusting a black tin full of cards at the two.
“What?” Ron said, and Hermione looked up at Colin, confused.
“This is going to tell you if you have a boy or a girl.” Colin confirmed.
“Oh.” Ron said, blushing down at Hermione.
“Would you like to pick?” Hermione said, looking up at Ron but not quite meeting his eyes.
“No, you go ahead.”
“Just go, Ron.” Hermione sounded tired. Ron shrugged and reached into the bin, pulling out a slip of paper.
“Read it!” Colin urged excitedly.
“Er- B and G.”
“Ooohh, twins!” Colin said, looking at the two sympathetically.
“Twins?” Hermione said, her voice high.
“Twins.” Colin repeated cheerfully. “A boy and a girl. When you get into the house, you're going to want to open the door and then take the last portal. It will lead you to the adoption center. You can choose your children there.”
“Adoption center? Last portal?” Ron said, his voice cracking. “Explain this to me again. The door is right there. There are no portals here. I don't get this.”
“You will.” Colin said lightly, turning to the camera and smiling cheekily. “Well, have a good time.” Colin said, turning back to Ron and Hermione. “Further instructions are on the kitchen table.”
And then he had waved his wand, and Hermione and Ron were soaring into the house. The door slammed behind them, and Hermione and Ron watched as it sealed itself totally and completely shut.
“Okay.” Hermione said. “What do we do now? That's the door... it just shut. We're locked in.”
Ron walked over to the door and tried it. The knob turned, but the door simply wouldn't open. All of a sudden, the door knocked him over and he flew back. Hermione snorted and reached down to pull him up. He ignored her hand and hoisted himself up anyway.
“Why don't we look around?” Hermione asked, flushing.
“Yeah, sure.” Ron followed Hermione through the stylishly decorated living room, with two large bookshelves and leather couches, to the kitchen, with two high chairs and two regular chairs. They walked through a hall and into an empty room.
“This must be the nursery.” Hermione mused.
“I guess we'll have to decorate it.” Ron said.
There was one room left, after that. The bedroom.
There was only one bed. Ron's heart sank at the awkwardness that was sure to ensue at this fact.
“You can have the bed.” he said quickly.
“It's okay.” Hermione said, scrutinizing the bed. “I think we can both fit on comfortably.”
“Er- you want to share it?”
Hermione sighed impatiently.
“Ron, we've slept in a tent together many times before. And we slept in the same bed while we were dating. I'm not really afraid of you. Only your snores.”
“My snores. Got it.” Ron said, sounding alarmed and not meeting Hermione's eyes.
“Luckily I learned a spell to fix those...” Hermione said, oblivious to his discomfort.
There was a loud grinding noise from the front of the house, and Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, then dashed to the front. The door had unlocked itself, and was partly opened. Ron walked over to it, keeping a hand thrown out behind him so Hermione couldn't get to the door. Hermione stood there, hands on her hips, as he made his sweet attempt to protect her. It was sort of annoying, but adorable at the same time. He was, after all, an auror.
Ron eased the door open, and they were greeted by the site of blinding white. Then, there were 5 tunnels, each with little signs over them. The one directly in front of them said 'Backyard'. The one to the left of that one had a sign that said 'Ron's Office'. The one on the other side of that said 'Grocery Store'. On the other side of the backyard was a tunnel that said 'Hermione's office'. Next to this one was a final sign that read 'Baby Center'.
“I guess we're heading there.” Hermione said, pointing.
“Right.” Ron said. “Do you want to stop in at work on the way? Just to see what it looks like?”
“No.” Hermione said. “It's okay.”
They walked along the tunnel until they reached the fifth one. They walked into the blinding white and came out at a pink shop.
It was huge. Hermione figured they must have been preparing for this date for months. There was a 'Furnishings' section, and a 'Walls' section. There was a section of the store for buying clothes and accessories, and one for toys. And finally, in the center of the store, was the adoption center.
As Hermione and Ron approached it, both first thought that the babies were real. They were moving, breathing, crying. A woman behind the glass was tickling one, and it squirmed under her soft fingers. As they got closer, they could tell, just barely, that these babies were not real after all. And neither was the woman. She was a fake image, they could see now, much like the ones Harry had described coming out of the resurrection stone. Not a ghost, but not fully connected to life either.
“Hello!” the lady said. “Look at the babies, then tell me which ones you want. You're to pick a girl and a boy.” she smiled.
“Okay...” Hermione said. “Ron, you'll pick out the boy, I'll pick out the girl.”
“You act as though picking out our child is a business deal.” Ron said. Hermione smacked him on the arm.
“If you behave, Mr, you can also name the boy. But I call the girl.”
“Why? What're you going to name her?”
“After my mother.” Hermione said, walking briskly around the case. Despite Hermione's orders, Ron continued to follow her.
“Nancy? You're going to inflict the name Nancy on some poor child?”
“Yes. What's wrong with Nancy?”
“Nothing, except your practically setting her up to be a lawyer.”
“Ron, it's a doll.”
“Yes, but think about how she's going to feel when she grows older and has to go to school and be teased about having the name Nanc... whoa!”
Hermione had come to an abrupt halt. Her eyes softened, head cocked and her mouth fell into a open mouthed, small smile. Ron looked down into the case, following her gaze. Lying on a soft pink blanket was a small little baby girl. She had sparkling blue eyes nearly the same color as Ron's, rosy cheeks and a pink mouth that formed into a perfect 'O'. But what Hermione's eyes were resting on was the small tuft of red hair that was spurting from the little girl's head.
“She's so... beautiful.” Hermione said, her hand flying up to the glass near the baby's form. The animated doll stretched and yawned, and Hermione almost fell to her knees.
“She looks like a girl version of me.” Ron started to say, then stopped himself, suddenly realizing that his discovery was the exact reason Hermione thought the baby was so beautiful. This, of course, tickled him pink, and he wanted to call Hermione on it, badly. Instead he went around the case and found a baby boy with the exact same shade of brown Hermione's eyes had. This baby had no hair, but Ron didn't really care. His head reminded him of his dad.
“Er- can I have this one, please?” Ron said, tapping on the glass to get the lady's attention.
“Certainly.” she said, and she gathered the baby carefully in her arms and walked through the glass to give it to Ron. When he turned to Hermione, she was already cooing over the little baby girl, and Ron broke into a wide, smug grin. Hermione looked up.
“What's that grin for?” she asked, smiling herself.
“I just love babies.” Ron said cheerfully.
“Well, even if you do, you're holding it wrong.” Hermione pointed out. She walked over to Ron. “You have to support the head. Like this, see?”
“Got it.” Ron said, after relishing her closeness for a few moments.
Hermione tickled the boy under his chin, and he made a little cooing noise. She smiled to herself, then started to walk to the toy section of the store, where she found two shopping carts that held one baby each.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” she said, and she levitated the cart over to Ron. Because she wasn't looking, it promptly crashed into him.
“OW!” Ron bellowed, but Hermione barely looked up, instead picking out two baby swings to go in the living room and two baby carriers to help carry the babies in. Ron walked behind her, watching. It seemed that Hermione delighted in shopping for her 'children'. While she couldn't stand shopping for herself, it seemed that shopping for the tiny members of her family was fun to her. She looked gleeful and exhilarated. She picked out a set of 4 bottles and tossed them into the cart.
“Why do we need four?” Ron asked.
“We have to have spares if we're washing a set, don't we?” Hermione asked, inspecting baby spoons now.
“Do you think of everything?” Ron asked, amazed.
“Yes.” Hermione said shortly, throwing a box of spoons into the cart.
“Do you think they'll need sippy cups?” she asked, turning to look at Ron.
“Mmm... what?” Ron said.
“Well, I thought you'd like to participate seeing as you were grinning like the chesire cat about your love for babies just moments before, and, anyway, I can't do this all by myself, you have to do something, Mr. Weasley..”
“That was a long sentence.” Ron pointed out, just to distract her. Hermione was about to stick out her tongue when the baby below her gurgled. She seemed to realize that she was a mum now, and she shouldn't be playing such childish games. So instead she lifted her head in a dignified way, shifted the baby girl into a better position and said,
“No, I don't think we do need sippy cups. They're too young for them at this stage.”
“Right.” Ron said. “I was about to say that.”
“Really?” Hermione said, her face teasing.
“Really.” Ron said firmly, and Hermione laughed, knowing he was lying. He relished her laugh. He wondered if it was the last one he'd hear in the two weeks. Ron had heard that new mothers could be very hormonal.
After buying enough toys to last a lifetime, Ron and Hermione headed over to the furnishings section, where Hermione piled a large plush rocking chair, a reading lamp, two cribs, two sets of dressers, two baby changing tables and a rack for toys into Ron's carriage. With that, she practically floated over to the wall section, where she had a wonderful time deciding between light raspberry or dark raspberry.
“I just can't pick.” she said, almost throwing her hands up in the air before remembering the fact that she was carrying a fake infant.
“How about... cheesecake?” Ron said.
“Ron, this is no time for food!” Hermione huffed, obviously exasperated.
“No, I mean yellow. It's like a very soft, not harsh at all yellow, and it's good for both genders, isn't it?”
Ron pointed to the sample of yellow paint, and Hermione walked over to him, looking doubtful of his skills. Then she saw the color.
“It's... perfect!” Hermione said, her eyes glazing over. She balanced the baby on one hip, picked up the paint can and dropped in into the cart. Then she turned to Ron.
“Thank you!” Hermione squealed, hugging him. Ron held her for a few moments, then slowly extracted himself from her grip. Hermione looked at him, but didn't say anything, choosing instead to walk over to the clothes section, where she proceeded to spend an hour and a half picking out clothes for the babies.
***
Once back at the house, Ron and Hermione decided to set up the babies room first. After suggesting to Ron that he set up the little rockers, Hermione went over to her closet and pulled out a 'Hogwarts' tee shirt and a pair of faded jeans. She knew that they were new, but they were the rattiest things in the closet so she figured it was okay.
Upon finding a bandanna in the section of the closet labeled 'hair', Hermione put one on, then ran out to the living room to find Ron. He was lying in the middle of the room, gently dressing the baby girl while the boy watched from the swinging chair, looking interested. Hermione set up the baby monitor, watching him.
“I've always wanted a baby girl, you know.” Ron whispered to her. “Of course, you were supposed to look just like your mum, not me, but I'll still spoil you rotten. As long as you like Quidditch, I think we'll get along just fine.”
The little girl cooed and Ron smiled down at her, straitening the hem of her dress. Ron turned around to put her into the chair, then saw Hermione.
“Oh, hi.” he said, turning maroon.
“Ronald Weasley has a soft side.” Hermione said quietly, smiling down at Ron and her little girl. “Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Tell me, can I write a book about this? An article for the Prophet? A children's story, perhaps? 'Mr. Weasley Finds His Other Half'.”
“Shut it.” Ron said, “The boy is sleeping.”
“We have to name him, you know.” Hermione said, watching as Ron tucked the little girl gently into her chair.
“You already want to call her Nancy.” Ron said, and Hermione nodded. “So I get to name the boy.”
“Any ideas?”
“Not a one.”
“I see.”
“I'll have to think about it, you know.”
“Alright, then.” Hermione said, starting to walk to the nursery. She stopped midway down the hall.
“I'm glad she doesn't look just like her mum,” she said. “Nancy would have horrible teeth, you know. Her crush at school might not even notice her until they were straitened.”
A/N: Hello, everyone. I haven't done an author's note in a while, so I thought I'd do one now. Basically, chapter 25 is the halfway point for this story. I've completed the story in my word document, and am trying to decide between two epilogues at this time :) Chapter 25 is pretty short, because it, and 26, are one of the ones that I wrote so much I had to split them in half. I'm really sorry about that, but I hope, at least, you'll find them satisfactory. Once again, thanks for reading, and I hope everyone likes the new banner! ~writergirl8
***
“Nice teamwork, Ron.” Hermione said breathlessly three hours later.
“Thanks.” Ron beamed. He completely agreed. The nursery was perfect. The walls were a soft, cheesecake yellow. Against the middle of the back wall lay the rocking chair, with a reading lamp set up above it. Then the two sides of the rooms were mirror images; toy shelves, dressers, cribs and changing tables. The only difference was Nancy's side had a pink blanket and the boy's side had a blue one.
“So, did you think about a name for a boy?” Hermione asked.
“Yes,” Ron said, puffing out his chest proudly. “Dimitrov.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione said.
“Dimitrov. He's the captain of the Bulgarian Quidditch team.”
Hermione's hair was starting to puff up.
“You want to name our child a Bulgarian surname? Why didn't you just name him Quidditch?” she shrieked.
“Damn,” Ron commented, “You'd be a good parent, wouldn't you? The kids would be bloody frightened of you. Like the idea, though. Quidditch. Yeah, lets name him Quidditch!”
“No!” Hermione cried. “There is no way, NO way, Ron.”
One of the babies started to cry.
“Oh, look what you've done!” Hermione said accusingly, throwing Ron a dirty look as she stomped out of the room.
“Me?” Ron said indignantly, following her out. “Me?”
Hermione lifted up Dimitrov and started to rock him. Ron stared down at Nancy. She was sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the fight. Turning back to Hermione, Ron saw that rocking Dimitrov seemed to be calming her a bit.
“Ron,” she said carefully, “Why don't you give him the first name of the Captain on the Cannons?”
“That would be... Cameron.” Ron said. He broke into a grin. “I like it!”
“Me too.” Hermione said, breathing a sigh of relief. “We can call him Cam for short.”
“Brilliant.” Ron beamed. “Nancy and Cam.”
Ron's stomach gave a large growl, and Hermione instinctively walked into the kitchen and over to the fridge. There was nothing in it.
“Uh-oh.” Hermione said. “Looks like a shopping trip is in order, huh? And I'll ignore the fact that it's only 3:30 and you're already hungry, hm?”
“Right.” Ron grinned, following Hermione into the nursery. She took the baby carriers and gently placed Cam and Nancy into them, cooing at their sleeping faces. Handing Nancy to Ron, Hermione walked out of the house and into the tunnel labeled 'Grocery Store'. Inside was in fact a grocery store. Hermione walked along each aisle, picking up dinners and snacks, fruits and vegetables, as well as some baby food. Ron threw in some easy to make desserts when she wasn't looking.
It wasn't until Hermione turned down the dessert aisle she looked for it. Glancing carefully through the glass freezers, she looked at the ice cream flavors with a passion. She needed triple chocolate. Bad. It wasn't until she turned around to dejectedly leave the aisle when she saw it. A whole row of freezers. Stalked full, completely full, with triple chocolate ice cream.
As they walked out of the store (there was no checkout counter, as it all came from Sweet Wizarding Studios), Ron spotted a rack of muggle movies.
“Brilliant.” he said, reaching out to pick up one the depicted a pretty girl kicking a football. “Doesn't the living room have a television?”
“Yes, it does.” Hermione said, looking bemused as Ron picked up a movie with a woman wearing a pink dress and holding a gun. “Would you like to get a few things to watch?”
“Sure.” Ron said, and he proceeded in picking out 10 movies he wanted to see.
“How about we narrow that down to three?” Hermione suggested, trying not to laugh. Nancy and Cam watched, interested, as Ron made a face and narrowed his selections down.
Once at home, Ron passed Hermione the groceries and she put them in the fridge or the pantry, organizing at her leisure. Upon finishing Ron set up the disc player while Hermione made dinner. Cam and Nancy were both in the living room with him, sleeping in their chairs.
“I have to admit, they're unusually quiet for babies.” Hermione said.
“Mione, they're not real.” Ron said.
“Still.” Was Hermione's neutral reply. Then she told Ron to come into the kitchen for dinner.
“Why can't we eat while we watch the movie?”
“No eating in front of the television.” Hermione told him, and then she walked into the kitchen.
Pausing only to mimic Hermione in a high pitched voice, moving his fingers as if they were a mouth, Ron scurried into the kitchen, where Hermione was setting down ziti in wine sauce. There was also Zucchini, and some loaves of bread on the table. Hermione stood back, brushing her dirty hands against her apron.
“Mione, you know I don't like zucchini!” Ron whined. Hermione pointed to his chair, and Ron abruptly sat down and started to spoon pasta on his plate. Hermione waited to seat herself until she had secured Nancy and Cam in their highchairs and started feeding them their bottles. Both drank greedily, resulting in Hermione practically starving by the time her babies were finished. Ron ate just as greedily as the babies, spooning zucchini into his mouth when Hermione wasn't looking. The truth was, he liked zucchini just fine, but he liked making Hermione's life a living hell more.
What love. As Ron got up to go back into the living room, Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Oh, no. I cooked and I fed the babies. You're on clean up detail."
She scooped up Nancy and Cam and proceeded over to the living room to turn on the television. Ron watched her go, frowning resentfully. Then he turned to the sink, saw the pile of dishes, and opened his mouth in anger. Hermione, from the living room, waved cheerfully at him. Sighing to himself, Ron switched on the faucet. As he banged the pots and pans around in the sink, Hermione thought she could hear, among the muttering, the words,
"Married life sucks."
***
It was dark when Ron's body clock woke him up for work. He sat up in bed and stretched. Hermione's sleeping form was lying on the other side of the bed, and Ron stared at it for a while before getting quietly out of bed.
“Ron?” came Hermione's groggy voice. “What's wrong?”
Ron turned around. Hermione was sitting up in bed, looking tired. The babies had woken them up at least four times, and she'd gotten up before Ron every single time.
“It's okay, Mione.” Ron said. He walked over to the bed and pushed her back down, covering her up with the warm covers. Hermione, sleepy as she was, let him.
Ron dressed, shaved, and put on his shoes. He went into the twins' room and walked over to the cribs. They were cooing and stretching in their beds. Ron grinned. In the eight days he and Hermione had been 'parents' together, Nancy and Cam had only gotten cuter. Nancy and Cam woke up with Ron, and he'd change their diapers and play with them a bit before going off to work. Then Hermione would wake up and feed the twins, and do laundry or play with them as well. Ron usually came home for lunch, and was always greeted by a cheerful Hermione, or a Hermione who was totally exhausted and ticked off. It didn't matter. Ron loved them both. There was an ache within him, knowing that the twins were not actually theirs.
“Morning, little girl.” Ron said. He picked Nancy up and held her for a bit. The little girl leaned into Ron's warmth, then moved her eyes toward the door. Ron turned around to see Hermione standing there, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her floaty purple night dress. She was smiling at Nancy and Ron.
“Morning, Ron.” Hermione said, walking over to Cam's crib and picking the little boy up. His tiny fists curled into a ball as he was hoisted into the air.
“Morning, Mione.” Ron said, smiling down at her.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Hermione asked, laughing as Nancy held her arms out to her.
“Eggs and cheese would be lovely.”
“You got it.” Hermione said. She kissed Cam, then put him back in the crib. Then she gave both Nancy and Ron a kiss on the cheek before heading over to the kitchen. Ron felt his cheek where Hermione's lips had touched it, then turned to Nancy.
“Your mum just kissed us on the cheek. What do you make you that?” he asked.
Nancy cocked her head, and Ron tapped his foot, as if waiting for something philosophical to come out of her mouth. However, all he got was a giggle and a soft,
“Gaga.”
***
“The eggs really were fantastic, Hermione.” Ron said, putting Nancy's spoon in the dishwasher.
“Thanks.” Hermione called over her shoulder, before turning back to Cam. She was feeding him little spoonfuls of baby food while imitating car noises to get him to open up.
“Vroom vroom!” Hermione said, tilting the spoon as the baby opened his mouth. From the other room where she was watching a show that featured singing and dancing vegetables, Nancy giggled at her mum.
“Bye.” Ron said, swiftly leaning down to kiss Cam on the cheek. “Be good for your mum, alright?”
He went over to Nancy and looked at her as if he was about to scold her. She looked up at him innocently, and Ron broke out laughing.
“Bah, I know you'll be good.” he said, picking her up and blowing a raspberry into her stomach. Nancy giggled and laughed.
“Bye, Mione.” Ron said, watching as she picked Cam up and started to walk him over to where Nancy was sitting. By the couch, a big basket of laundry awaited Hermione to fold it.
“Bye, Ron.” Hermione said. Ron closed the door, and Hermione took the laundry basket over to the kitchen, then set it down on the table- right on top of Ron's briefcase.
“I swear, he leaves it everyday.” she moaned, before snatching up the briefcase and running outside.
“Ron! Ron! You forgot your briefcase.”
“Thanks!” Ron said, taking the leather bag from Hermione.
“You're welcome,” Hermione said, glancing back toward the house. From the sound of it, Nancy and Cam were still being entertained by the show. “What time are you coming home?”
“I'm not sure. I won't make it for lunch; I've got a huge report due for Mr. Norton.”
Hermione gave Ron a sympathetic look.
“We'll bring you lunch around 1:30, how does that sound?”
“Great.” Ron said gratefully. “Perfect.”
“Good.” Hermione said, before patting Ron's arm and walking back into the house.
With Cam and Nancy so quiet in front of the TV, Hermione went to the kitchen and took out her fix it and forget it pot, putting in some roast beef and veggies. About halfway through this, the fireplace erupted and in popped Ginny's head.
“Hi, Hermione!” she beamed.
“Ginny!” Hermione said, looking over the carrot she was slicing. “Hi!”
“How are you holding up, Mrs. Goodwife?”
“Lovely.” Hermione laughed. “I can't remember the last time I had so much fun.”
Ginny looked surprised.
“Wow. I thought for sure you were going to hate this date. How come you like it so much?”
“It doesn't feel like a date, Ginny. It feels like life. Real life.”
“I see.” Ginny said slowly.
“Do you wanna meet my babies?”
“Your...” Ginny said. Hermione grinned and rushed out of the room to pick up Cam and Nancy.
“Awwww!” Ginny cooed. “She looks just like Ron, and he looks just like you!”
“Nancy, Cam, this is your Aunt Ginny.” Hermione smiled.
“For me to be Aunt you'd have to be married to Ron.” Ginny pointed out.
“I am for now.” Hermione said, shrugging.
“Hmmm.” was all Ginny could say. “Oh, so, you know the house that you really liked?”
“Yeah?” Hermione asked.
“Someone bought it.”
Hermione's heart sank.
“When?” she asked.
“Yesterday.” Ginny said. “Funny- I thought for sure Ron was going to buy it. He went to look at it, you know. But he couldn't have because he was locked up in that house with you.”
“Oh.” Hermione said, her happy smile diminished.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Ginny shrugged.
Hermione sat there uncomfortably while Nancy and Cam batted each other with their small hands. Finally Hermione checked her watch.
“I'd better go. I promised Ron I'd bring him lunch at work.”
“Ahhh.” Ginny said “Still in the newly wed stage, huh?”
“Shhh!” Hermione said, giddy all the same. “Cam, Nancy, say buh bye to Aunt Ginny, kay?”
“Buh...bye!” Nancy giggled, while Cam, true to his father, turned towards the fridge.
Hermione placed Nancy and Cam in their high chairs and moved the chairs to the island, where she proceeded in making Ron's lunch. A turkey wrap, chips, a pickle, and a tart. Then she dressed Nancy in a blue jean skirt and a white top, and Cam in overalls, and left the house with Ron's lunch. Once at the office, she opened the door (which was actually a portkey that lead to Ron's real office) and went to the secretary.
“Hi. I'm supposed to be bringing Ron his lunch?”
“You're his wife?” the secretary asked, eying the babies.
“Yeah. His wife.” Hermione said.
“Alright then. Oh, and in case you're wondering, he hasn't had any odd women here.”
“Er... thanks.” Hermione replied uncertainly.
The lady leaned into a speaker and said,
“Mr. Weasley? Mrs. Weasley is here to see you.”
“My mum?” came Ron's confused voice.
“No, your wife.” the secretary said.
“My wife?” Ron asked, befuddled.
“And kids.” The woman was sounding bored now. “Your wife and twins.”
“Oh, my wife!” Ron said, catching on finally. “Hermione. Yvonne, please send Mrs. Weasley right in.”
He chortled a little bit as he said this. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked right into the office. Ron was organizing papers. When he saw Hermione he looked up and grinned happily.
“Hi, Hermione.”
“Hey, Ron.” Hermione said. “The twins and I brought you lunch.”
She looked at Ron in an amused way.
“Thank you?” Ron said this as a question, looking at Hermione's face as if he didn't know what to make of it.
“Oh, you're welcome. As Mrs. Weasley, I strive to be a good wife.”
Ron's ears turned red.
“You heard that?” he asked, looking as though his heart was breaking.
“Yes, love, and you know I'm so honored for the compliment.” Hermione teased. “But Mrs. Weasley makes me feel so old.”
“So how about Ms. Weasley then? Is it better?” Ron joked.
“Much. I'll go tell Percy right now.”
This got a good laugh out of the two of them, and Nancy and Cam looked oddly at their parents for a few seconds, then seemed to give up. Ron subconsciously reached out for Cam and held the little boy to his chest. Hermione sat down at Ron's desk and looked over his files.
“You spelled 'Camouflage' wrong.” Hermione said, tapping the page with her wand and fixing it.
“Thanks.” Ron said, smiling gratefully. Hermione proceeded to spell check and edit all his papers, making conversation while Ron (who was feeding bits of turkey to the kids) ate his lunch.
“All done.” Hermione said an hour later. “You're spell checked into infinity.”
“Thanks, Mione.” Ron said. “My reports have been suffering direly since we broke up.”
“Yes, me looking over your work was the largest advantage of our relationship.”
“I miss it.” Ron said, closing his eyes and grimacing. “Your constant complaining about my spelling always gave me warm-fuzzies inside.”
“You know I love you.” Hermione said, getting off of the desk and walking over to Cam and Nancy.
“I know.” Ron said. “The way you show affection is by completing my papers.”
“Now, if you'd known that when we were in school, we would have started dating a lot faster.” Hermione pointed out, laughing.
“Yes. In fact, we might actually have real kids by now!”
Hermione held her hand up to her mouth in mock horror.
“Oh, no! Not real kids! Who has real kids when you can have simulated babies?”
“Dunno.” Ron said, looking down at a page, then balling it up and throwing it into the bin.
“What's your mission status?” Hermione asked Ron. He took in an excited breath.
“Well, I can't tell you too much, really, but we're down to three Death Eaters that we're trying to catch. We just caught six of them before the game show started, and that's the report I'm writing now. Still, these guys are putting up a good fight.”
“Well, if you need help, I have my lovely lawyer logic.”
“I'll definitely turn to you.” Ron said, grinning at her.
“And, you know, Nancy's good that that stuff too.”
“Ahhh. How could I forget?” Ron asked.
“Dunno. You really shouldn't be forgetting about our daughter, you know?”
“Our daughter.” Ron said, smiling peacefully. “Our daughter.”
***
When Ron got home, Hermione was holding a telephone to her ear, stirring a pot and holding Nancy on one hip. Cam was seated by the fridge, playing with the magnets on it. The woman of the house was dressed in tight jeans and a purple striped tee-shirt, her hair thrown up into a high ponytail. From the living room, the TV blared a children's show, and the radio in the kitchen was set to a wizarding news station.
“He's getting married? I can't believe it!” Hermione said, as Ron gave her a friendly kiss hello on the cheek.
“Hi.” Ron muttered under his breath.
“Hi.” Hermione whispered, smiling at him before turning back to her telephone, which she was supporting with her ear. “No... no, it doesn't make sense. He's not that sort of person.”
The person on the other end spoke, and Ron distinctly recognized the hysteric voice of his mother.
“When do they want the wedding?...Oh my... yes, I know that's short notice, but you said it yourself, don't they want a small wedding?”
Ron made a face at Hermione, who looked up at him with large eyes. He stared seriously down at her for a few seconds, then he stuck his tongue out at her. Hermione broke into a smile, then stuck hers out, too. Ron proceeded in crossing his eyes, which Hermione followed with touching her tongue to her nose.
“No, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't know they were dating, either.”
Ron followed this up with a grand finale of crossing his eyes, pulling at his earlobes and sticking out his tongue. Hermione let out a loud laugh, causing Nancy and Cam to look up at her, setting Ron off and causing Mrs. Weasley to go into a fresh bout of hysterics.
“No, no I wasn't laughing at you, Mrs. Weasley. Ron... oh, I'll ask him, of course. Fine, fine. I'll call you back on 'The Perfect Match' line. Floo? Right, that's fine too. Go home, Mrs. Weasley, get some sleep. Everything will be okay.”
At this Hermione hung up the phone, let out a loud, frustrated sigh and banged her head against the counter.
“What?” Ron asked, coming over to her and placing his hand on her back. He could feel her spine through her shirt, and he suddenly realized that he had forgotten how thin she was.
“George,” Hermione started, her voice taking an ironic tone, “Is getting married.”
“What?” Ron said, slowly. “What? To who?”
“To Angelina Johnson.”
“Angelina... Fred's date to the yule ball?”
“Exactly that Angelina Johnson.”
“Well, that's brilliant, isn't it?” Ron said, sounding confused at the devastation in Hermione's voice.
“Well, it would be,” Hermione said, “but there are lots of complications.”
Ron stared at Hermione, dumbfounded.
“Oh Ron.” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I forgot how stupid you are.”
Ron looked very affronted.
“I mean about love, and such.” Hermione said, propping her elbows up on the island. Nancy waved her fists, and Hermione set her down on the floor next to Cam to play with the magnets.
“Oh, do explain.” Ron said.
“First of all,” Hermione said slowly, “George didn't tell anyone he was dating at all, not just Angelina. And then, Angelina presents even more problems. She and Fred were together for a while, and that's odd for both of them. First of all, Angelina. She might only love George because he looks just like Fred, minus the ear. But I don't think she works like that... and still, it doesn't make sense to go from one twin to the other. Granted, George and Fred were so similar... For George, there are complications, too. He might only be falling for Angelina because she was who Fred was attracted to. He's jumping into this marriage for who knows why. The average person doesn't just call their mum and say that they're getting married two weeks.”
“Two... weeks?” Ron said, looking shocked at Hermione's explanation.
“Two weeks.” Hermione said firmly. “And although it's not unlike the old George to make split-second decisions, the post-war George is somewhat different. He thinks things over more, and he takes things more seriously. This doesn't add up.”
“Correct me if I'm wrong...” Ron said, “But aren't little girls supposed to be obsessed with fairy tales and true love, while boys are the cynics?”
“If you want to be stereotypical, sure.” Hermione said, gazing lovingly at Nancy, who she'd been reading 'Cinderella' to every night before bed. Ron, on the other hand, read an enthusiastic Cam stories about truck engines and talking choo-choo trains.
“Well then, why am I saying what I'm about to say, and why are you saying what you're about to say?”
“Dunno.” Hermione said. “Do continue.”
“I think you and mum are completely over analyzing this.” Ron said. “Don't forget, George used to be like this. He's been taking care of the joke shop, too, and it's changed him closer to normal. And Angelina helps with the shop three times a week. And why not get married at split second? And whatever happened to true love? Whatever happened to realizing something is perfect, too perfect to pass up?”
“I see what you mean-” Hermione started, but she was stopped by Ron.
“I, for one, completely support George's decision to get married. To make himself happy. To go after what he wanted and to get it for himself as soon as he realized he wanted it instead of waiting years and years, only to make a huge mistake that he completely regretted after realizing what he wanted. If everyone did that, we'd all be a hell of a lot happier.”
“If everyone did that, there would be more divorce!” Hermione argued. “You have to think things like marriage over, Ron! You can't take it too lightly!”
“So WHAT! He's in love with her, and to say yes she has to be in love with him. He loves her, Hermione. Why won't she give him a chance?”
“Maybe she's scared!” Hermione retaliated. “Maybe she's too afraid to marry him!”
“Well then she's a bloody cowardess, and she's not worth his time.”
“Ron-” Hermione said.
“When's dinner going to be ready? I'm off to take a shower.”
“Don't use all the hot water. Cam needs a bath, and I need a shower later.”
“Fine then.” Ron said, heading toward the master bathroom.
Hermione bit her lip. This fight had upset her more then it should have. Towards the end, she had a feeling they hadn't been discussing the marriage of George and Angelina anymore. She sighed. Nancy and Cam were on the floor, looking surprised. Hermione scooped them up and brought them to their rooms. Then she set the table, dimmed the lights and lit two large candles. She slipped back into her room and changed into a white shirt and a red skirt, taking extra care with her hair. By the time Ron came into the kitchen, freshly showered and smelling better then any meal Mrs. Weasley (much less Hermione) could ever make, Hermione had pulled his chair out for him and was ready with a sorry.
A/N: Hi, guys! I've been getting some awesome reviews lately, I just want to say thanks. You guys are so great to me :) Like I always say, if you have any questions, ask me in a review, or go to my authors page. It's gotten one reply so far... that can't be good, I've had it for a year! Anyway, I'll have an answer to everything you don't get (believe me, my cousin asks me questions about the story all the time), so don't hesitate to ask. And, lastly, did anyone know what Ron was going to say after Hermione asked him about his mission status? Or did anyone recognize it after he'd said it? Any of my lovely readers remember which date that was from? First person to remember in a review (without checking and cheating) gets mentioned in the next Author's Note I do!
After dinner, Ron and Hermione brought Cam and Nancy over to the bathroom and filled up the tub. After testing the water to make sure it was okay for the babies, Hermione and Ron undressed them and and plopped them into the tub. Nancy relaxed immediately as Hermione started washing her gently, but Cam looked up at Ron indignantly.
“What's wrong, little guy?” Ron asked.
“baff!” Cam said, bringing his hands up and slapping them down into the water.
“Bath, Cam.” Hermione said from her spot next to Ron. She was now rubbing shampoo into Nancy's red hair, and the little girl was giggling from her spot in the tub.
“Hermione, he's a baby. He doesn't know how to pronounce words correctly.”
“Well, that's why I'm teaching him!” Hermione responded shortly, before turning around and rubbing Nancy's stomach with a washcloth. Ron looked down at his knees, which were now wet from the water on the floor. He wondered if he should fight, since he was pretty sure Hermione was right. However, he couldn't let her think he was turning into a softy.
“It won't matter much, now will it? He can't speak English. He doesn't understand you.”
Hermione looked over at Ron, a smile crinkling around her eyes.
“Did you know some people think that babies can hear things while they're in their mother's stomachs?” she asked.
“You're completely changing the subject.” Ron said. The same light, happy expression remained on Hermione's face.
“Fine. Go on.” Ron sighed, giving in.
“I don't have anything else to say. I just think it's amazing, don't you?”
There was a sense of longing in her voice.
“Human life is just an amazing process. From how it's created, to how people grow and change over time. When you're a little baby, you don't know if you'll ever find the perfect man, or what life will bring you, or how long you'll live. And it doesn't even matter. That's why babies are so innocent, I think.”
“I guess.” Ron said, who had lost her at the 'how life is created' part.
Hermione laughed and pulled Nancy out of the tub.
“You dry her while I wash Cam, okay?” she said, smirking at the still un-washed Cam who was now splashing water all over the bathroom.
“Fine.” Ron said, taking Nancy and planting a big fat kiss on her cheek, brushing Hermione's hand as he did so. Hermione froze for a moment, then turned quickly to the tub and started to wash Cam.
***
That night, Hermione and Ron went to their respective ends of the bed and fell asleep. It was the first time in a long time Cam and Nancy had gone right to bed, and so far they'd been quiet. Ron planned to relish every moment of sleep he had.
“Night, Mione.” he said, punching his pillow into a better position. Hermione looked over at him, her recently dried hair splayed across the pillow.
“Goodnight, Ron.” she said softly, before turning over and turning the lamp off.
It was dark and quiet. Hermione soon began to breathe in a sleep-like fashion. Ron listened to the sound of her breaths, thinking. Had the baby comment been a hint? She'd seemed so into the thought of having babies, even slightly longing. Then again, they weren't together anymore. Why would she be hinting to him if she didn't love him?
“I'm being silly.” Ron said to himself, his voice a ghost in the darkness. He shivered, then put his head on the pillow, letting the blackness of sleep take over.
There was a little pink bunny. It was floating in the darkness, grinning it's head off.
“Come in,” said the bunny, and Ron curiously walked in through a doorway. The fuzzy pink bunny was looking more evil yet as he gestured for Ron to sit down in the blackness.
“There isn't a chair...” Ron said, and then suddenly, one appeared. Ron sat down in it, and the fuzzy pink bunny that was floating in midair put on a pair of black tortoiseshell glasses.
“Now, what have we here?” the bunny said in a wondering voice. He took out a manila folder and started looking through files. Ron was alarmed to see that the folder had his name on it.
“Ronald Bilius Weasley.” he read out in amazement.
“Mhmm.” the fuzzy pink bunny said.
“Sir... what exactly are... wait, what should I call you?”
“Professor Cheesecake.” said Professor Cheesecake.
“Professor Cheesecake- What exactly are you?” Ron said, noting the Professor tag.
“I'm a shrink, Mr. Weasley.”
“Who's shrink? Ginny's? I thought she was going mad when she decided to marry Harry...”
“Not Ginny's. Yours. Your failing love life needed to be addressed, so you came to me.”
“My love life isn't that bad!” Ron argued.
The pink bunny- Professor Cheesecake, rather- looked up at Ron and raised his eyebrow.
“Mr. Weasley, how do you feel about the fact that Ms. Granger left you for Cormak McLaggen?”
“She did?” Ron said, shocked. He felt as if he had been plunged into a large bucket of water, and his heart was beating faster then he'd ever felt it beat.
Professor Cheesecake, upon hearing this, consulted his notes.
“No, no, she left you for Draco Malfoy.” the bunny said.
“Draco Mal...”
“No, wait, I stand corrected- Harry Potter.”
“HARRY?” Ron bellowed. “That's total bull... he can't hurt me and Ginny in one go! I'll kill the bastard!”
“No, wait, it was Viktor Krum!”
Ron stood up, knocking his chair down in his wake.
“No!” he roared.
The bunny's eyes suddenly grew red. He took his glasses off and started to float in the air, high above Ron.
“I LOVE HER! WHY IS SHE DOING THIS TO ME?”
“Mclaggen. Krum. Potter. Mafoy. McLaggen. Krum. Potter. Malfoy.” Professor Cheesecake chanted.
Suddenly, food started to float above Ron's head. Hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, sausage.... and then a high pitched scream echoed through the air.
Ron bolted up. He had already jumped out of bed and around the corridor to Nancy and Cam's room when he realized that the scream was not getting louder. It was getting softer. Ron turned around in one swift move and started running back to his bedroom. There, Hermione was still lying down, twitching, shaking and screaming. Her eyes were closed.
“Bellatrix... no. No! Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him!”
She screamed again and turned onto her back. Ron's throat tightened.
“STOP! STOP!”
Her twitching was so out of control Ron froze in place. He'd seen Hermione have bad dreams about the war before, but never as bad as these.
“Ron... no, STOP! I love him. I love him! I never told him... KILL ME! Hurt me instead! Please, please...”
Hermione started to cry, tears streaming down her cheeks. And then she started mumbling his name.
“Ron...Ron... RON!”
With a final, terrifying scream, Hermione bolted up in bed, finally awake. She hid her face in her hands and started to cry harder, her back shaking to the rhythm of her tears. Ron stood in the doorway for a few precious seconds, then rushed over to Hermione. He rubbed her back and held her in his arms, where she shook so violently it almost took all of Ron's strength to hold onto her. And yet he squeezed tighter.
“You're still having these dreams?” Ron asked, as Hermione rocked back and forth.
“Yes.” Hermione said.
“You were getting so much better...”
“They... they got worse after we broke up.”
Ron's insides froze. Angry blood started coursing through his veins, and he pushed Hermione away a little bit as to not lose control with her.
“Your dreams got worse and you didn't tell me?” he said angrily.
“I'm sorry. It was y...you who made them come back, and we'd just broken up. D...don't you understand? I don't dream about anyone else dying, it's just you. Because I'm in love with you and not anyone else!”
Ron's insides seemed to melt now, and he pulled Hermione close again. Hermione turned her body in Ron's direction and lay her head down onto his shoulder. She continued to sob, but her tortured cries became softer, and more pain then torture. When she had finally settled herself into a comfortable position in Ron's arms and stopped crying, they sat there for a long time, Hermione's eyes closed with Ron softly stroking her hair.
“Where were you?” he asked.
Hermione drew a shaky breath in through her nose, then answered.
“We were at Mafloy manor, and she wasn't torturing me.”
“She wasn't?” Ron asked, temporarily confused.
“No. She was hurting you.” Hermione said. She turned to look up at Ron with watery eyes, but he had closed his.
“She was torturing you.” Hermione continued in a bigger voice. “Instead of me. And I wanted to die. I kept begging for her to stop hurting you, and she didn't. And then it was the final battle, and she was laughing. She was laughing so hard she was bent over. And then I screamed at her, and she straightened up and she killed you.”
Ron's face was white. His eyes were still closed, and he was gripping Hermione as if she were about to float away.
“Ron.” Hermione said, and he looked up, as if a bit shocked to see she was still in the room. “I'm sorry.”
Ron looked at her for a few moments, then buried his face in her long, vanilla scented hair. They stayed in that position until light started to peak through the windows and Nancy and Cam woke up.
***
“So, what are we going to do today?”
Morning had dawned, and both Hermione and Ron were trying to act as if the dream had never happened. As if Hermione's dreams had stopped, and they were not closer then ever before. They were trying not to notice that they were working in sync, and that their movements were shadowing each other, Ron constantly throwing protective glances at Hermione.
“Why don't we go outside?” Hermione asked. “We're going to say goodbye to Nancy and Cam tomorrow. We may as well have a good last day.”
Somehow, the idea of saying goodbye to her and Ron's babies made Hermione's stomach plunge uncomfortably. Maybe it was the fact that these were her and Ron's first ever children- and whether they would have anymore Hermione had no idea. But she did know that these were the babies she had taught Ron how to hold, had taught Ron how to change diapers. Had put to bed with Ron every night... had gotten her a shining inside look on what it was like to be Mrs. Ronald Weasley, a title she had dreamed of having since she was thirteen.
It sucked to have a dream stolen right out from under you because of yourself. Hermione wondered if she would ever be Mrs. Ronald Weasley. She shivered with delight at the thought. Then she stopped. They were broken up. They were stuck on a game show. They were taking care of enchanted babies that might be the only ones they'd ever have together. Would each have to settle for second best? The thought was nerve wracking. The only thing Hermione had known she'd wanted her whole life was Ron.
“Good idea.” Ron said, bringing Hermione back to earth. “Don't we have a swimming pool?”
“Yeah.” Hermione laughed. “I guess we haven't really used it yet, have we?”
“No.” Ron said, grinning more.
“Okay, well I'll pack the lunch and you can go change into your suit. What to do you want to eat?”
“Ham and cheese wrap with potato chips and a pickle.”
“No need to be so indecisive, Ron, it's just lunch.”
“Just lunch.” Ron said dramatically, kissing the top of Hermione's head before walking out of the room and going to change. Hermione made the sandwiches and started filling a pitcher of lemonade. Halfway through, however, she became thirsty and started pouring herself a glass. Midway through her sip, Ron walked into the kitchen clad in a navy blue men's bathing suit, shirtless, and carrying a baby in each arm. Hermione spat out her lemonade.
“What?” Ron asked, looking alarmed.
“Where did those come from?” Hermione asked, looking shocked.
“What? The babies?” Ron asked, looking from Nancy to Cam. “These are Nancy and Cam, we've been caring for them for the past week and a half.”
“Not the babies, those!” Hermione said. She walked over the counter and to Ron, then placed her hands on his stomach.
“Oh, the six pack?” Ron asked nonchalantly.
“Abs.” Was all Hermione seemed to be able to point out. “Where the hell did you get those?”
“Oh.” Ron grinned sheepishly. “Well... it's a long story. One that I might tell you one day.”
“I'm taking you up on that.” Hermione warned Ron, starting to walk out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Ron asked, confused.
“I have to change too.” Hermione said. “Aren't we both going swimming?”
“Oh, yeah. So you're going to be in a bathing suit?” Ron asked.
“That's the idea.” Hermione smirked, walking out of the kitchen. The smirk lasted all the way to her closet until she saw the fact that she had nothing but bikinis to wear. Hermione had never in her life worn a bikini, and she hadn't been planning to start now. Hermione sighed and found the most modest one she could find. The most modest was pretty modest, it had to be said. Although it was a two piece, it wasn't a bikini, but rather a tankini. The top was turquoise, with a stitched on flower on the side, and the bottom was brown. The bathing suit came just a few inches up her stomach, displaying half of her belly button. Hermione looked around the closet and put on a big T-shirt and a pair of capris, then ran outside.
“Are you guys having fun?” Hermione asked, watching Cam and Nancy in their ducky swim floats.
Nancy laughed. Ron looked a bit disappointed.
“I thought you were wearing a swim suit.”
“I... am. Under my clothes.”
“Oh.” Ron said, looking crestfallen. “Aren't you going to come in?”
“Ummm...” Hermione said.
“Mamma!” Cam said.
Hermione's expression melted and she took off her clothes and jumped into the pool. Ron made sure to clear his shocked, punch-drunk expression by the time she surfaced. It didn't work.
Chapter 28: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Meet the Cameras.
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A/N: WARNING: FILLER CHAPTER AHEAD! Oh, and, I don't own Harry Potter.
“We have to go, Mione.” Ron said, rolling his eyes as he stood, arms crossed, in the door frame. Hermione's tear streaked face turned toward him, and he melted. Or rather, he had already melted but now he was showing it.
“I don't want to leave.” Hermione said, her voice cracking.
“I don't either.” Ron said softly, and he pulled her to his chest and held her there.
“They... they seemed so real.” Hermione choked through her tears. “The babies. This life. They were almost reality. It was perfect. It was what I wanted. I wanted it to be real.”
“I know.” Ron said, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach and be there for Hermione. He, too, had thought that this life was the perfect one, and one that he wanted to live. Ever since he was 17, he'd wanted this. Perhaps not the babies then, but Hermione and being married and having her rush out of the house to give him his briefcase. As he'd got older, his dreams had become more ambitious. He'd suddenly realized that marrying Hermione meant forever- and forever was everything that he wanted. He'd realized that he wanted it all. The babies, the trials, the triumphs. The one thing he hadn't realized was the most important thing to understand. He hadn't gotten, until Hermione had left him, that what he felt for her was special. Or maybe he had known, but he hadn't understood exactly how special it was. He'd wasted it away. He'd thrown it all away because of this. He'd thrown everything away. If he'd genuinely understood how rare and special it was to want to spend forever with someone, maybe Nancy and Cam would be their children. Maybe he would be allowed to kiss Hermione every single day, and hold her while they were sleeping and a million other things. Yet, he couldn't, and that was completely his fault.
After this week and a half, Ron knew that Hermione loved him. He was possibly more certain then ever. She was looking at him the way she had been looking at him before he started drinking, before they moved in together. Ron knew that this game show challenge had changed Hermione's view of him. He had been careful to be clean around the house, even tidying up the kitchen after dinner and cleaning up after Nancy and Cam. He didn't drink anymore, and he had been light, airy and happy the whole time. He'd kissed her cheek even when she was at her moodiest. And he had adored being a father to Nancy and Cam. Plus, he was pretty sure Hermione seeing his abs hadn't hurt either.
“You're smirking!” Hermione's voice said, cutting through his thoughts. “Why are you smirking?”
“Are you wearing mascara?” Ron asked, changing the subject quickly. Hermione blushed.
“A little.” she admitted.
“Your eyelashes looked different.” Ron said.
“Looked?” Hermione asked through her tears.
“There are black lines all down your face from your tears now.”
“Oh.” Hermione looked down, embarrassed, but Ron lifted her chin with his finger and wiped the tear tracks away.
'I love you,' he thought, but he didn't say it.
“We should go.” he said instead, and Hermione stared up at him with deer-wide eyes.
“I can't.” Hermione said. “Can't we just say?”
“No.” Ron said firmly. “We need to get back to life.”
“I guess.” Hermione said reluctantly.
Ron took her hand and pulled her out of the room. Hermione looked behind her, dragging her feet as much as she could. They stared at their bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, before they took a breath and walked through the door. Once they were out, Ron shut the door firmly behind him. They both looked around. No one was there, waiting for them. Hermione peaked around Ron and through the yard.
“I guess we can just go.” Ron said, sounding amazed that they were getting off so easy.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Hermione said. She unconsciously drew closer to Ron, clutching onto his arm.
“Do... do you need help apparating home?” Ron asked.
“Yes.” Hermione said, much too quickly. “Yes, can you help me?”
“Yeah.” Ron said, shrugging. “Of course.”
The truth was, after being together in the same house pretending to be husband and wife, mommy and daddy, neither Ron nor Hermione wanted to be separated from the other. Ron gently took Hermione's arm and she closed her eyes at his touch, waiting for the terrible sense of apparation to overcome her. As they passed through countries, Hermione could still smell Ron's scent. She was still sniffing in when they landed in her flat.
“Thanks, Ron.” Hermione said.
“You're welcome.” Ron said awkwardly.
“I'm going to bed.” Hermione said, looking at the light streaming through the window. She suddenly felt so exhausted, she couldn't bear it, and the emotional loss of loosing her and Ron's babies was making her so tired she could barely stand it.
“Oh.” Ron said.
“If you want some coffee, help yourself.” Hermione said as she started to walk into her bedroom.
“You want me to stay?” Ron asked.
“Well, if you want to.” Hermione said. “But I think we have to go to the studio around 4, so you might come in handy when it's time to wake up.”
“Got it.” Ron grinned. Hermione felt an unexplainable rush of affection for him, causing her to jump into her bedroom and close the door tightly behind her, making the vain attempt to block out her feelings that was more of a struggle each day she spent with Ron.
***
“Mione. Hermione. Wake up.”
A gentle voice was whispering in her ear, and Hermione smiled as it brought her awake.
“Hi, Ron.”
She was positively beaming at him, for a reason she didn't know, but she had a feeling it had to do with her dream, which included houses, babies and lots of snogging.
“Good dream?” Ron teased.
“The best.” Hermione admitted, slumping back against her pillows. She felt happy and refreshed, and suddenly the world seemed brighter. She got up and bounced out of bed. “So, the studio.” Hermione said. “When do we have to be there?”
“Four, as you said.” Ron replied, rolling his eyes. “Right again.”
“I always am.” Hermione said smugly.
Of course Ginny had to interrupt the moment by arriving and shrieking about how Hermione was back and she had spent the whole time when she wasn't trying to get pregnant shopping for clothes for Hermione. As soon as she saw Ron, Ginny stopped and glanced at Hermione.
“What is he doing here?”
“We were planning on carpooling to the studio.” Hermione said, keeping her eyes on Ron's face. It was starting to turn maroon. Hermione walked carefully over to Ron and placed her hand on his arm. “Breathe, Ron.”
“You're trying to get pregnant?” Ron asked, his voice slightly strangled.
“Maybe.” Ginny said.
“Don't lie.” Ron said, his voice so calm Hermione wondered for a second who she was holding on to.
Ginny's guilty look said it all.
“This is completely ridiculous!” Hermione and Ron said at the same time.
“You're just 20!” Ron bellowed.
“At just 20, it might not be advisable for you to...” Hermione began in a calm voice.
“You don't need to start having babies!”
“Ron, calm down.” Hermione hissed. “This isn't your choice, so there's no need to yell.”
“She just turned 20!” Ron yelped.
“Yes, I know, but all we can do is strongly advise her against this.”
“I'm still here, you know.” Ginny said, sounding hurt.
“Ginny, tell me about the clothes you picked out for me.” Hermione said in a soothing voice, trying to calm Ginny down. Ron was still glaring at Ginny.
“Listen, we'll talk about this after the show, but right now we need to focus on not making complete idiots of ourselves on The Perfect Match.” Hermione snapped. “We'll take up family matters at dinner here tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Ginny said, and with a flash of red hair she had waved her wand, leaving a dress on the bed. “I'll do your makeup when we get there, just put on the dress.”
Hermione turned back to Ron.
“Why does she have to rush her life?” Ron asked.
“I don't know. Maybe she's jealous because we had fake babies. Hah, if Ginny knew how hard it was maybe she'd give the idea of being a mum a second thought...”
Ron started to grin.
“Oh no.” Hermione said. “No way, Ron.”
“You're good at spells!”
“But I won't do that to Harry and Ginny.”
“Please, Hermione.”
Ron gave Hermione a look that he knew made her knees weak. Hermione glared at him, letting him know that she was not happy with it. The fact was, though, that her insides were starting to turn into jelly.
“Okay.” Hermione said. “What should we call the plan? How about P.O.O.R.H.G.L?”
“Poorhgl?” Ron asked, wrinkling his nose.
“No, Part One Of Ruining Harry and Ginny's Life.”
“Got it.” Ron said, grinning his agreement.
***
The dress Ginny had selected for Hermione was a navy-inspired, sleeveless blue number. She'd also happened to leave a pair of break neck high heels that, from the look on Ron's face, made Hermione's legs look fantastic. She'd been shaving them every night because the two had been sleeping in the same bed, but Hermione had been sure to put a few more spells on her legs today that made them look even better.
“Ready to go?” Hermione asked, bending down to the bottom of her closet and emerging with a white purse. Ron let out a loud bark of a laugh.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“Your hair is a bloody mess.” Ron grinned.
Hermione reached up to smooth it, but Ron caught her wrist with his hand and pushed to proper piece back for her.
“Thanks.” Hermione said, feeling completely helpless as she looked into his eyes.
“You're welcome.” Ron said, smiling down at her.
“We... we should go.” Hermione said. In truth, she had no desire to go to the studio, but instead wished she could sit on the couch and talk to Ron, a cup of tea in her hands and a muggle movie blaring in the background. And maybe a bit of snogging.
“Right. We should leave.” Ron said. He took her hand and spun on the spot. Hermione took a deep breath as she was plunged into the dark tube that was apparation.
As soon as they arrived, Ron and Hermione started walking down the hall together, completely oblivious to the fact that they were still hand in hand. It wasn't until Harry emerged from a side door that Hermione realized that Ron was struggling to get to Harry because she was pulling him back.
“Ron, calm.” Hermione demanded. “I refuse to treat you like a common dog, but you're getting pretty damn close to it. Just go to your dressing room.”
Ron left, glaring at Harry all the while.
“Harry, did Ginny tell you about dinner?”
“Yeah. She did. Hermione,” Harry said in a lower voice, “I swear it was her idea. And it was kind of one that was hard to say no to.”
“I really refuse to discuss this with you.” Hermione said, feeling slightly nauseous.
“I forgot that you and Ron are still virgins.” Harry said, smirking at her.
“Does Ginny tell you everything?” Hermione asked, exasperated.
“No, but Ron tells me most.”
“Yes, well, when I became friends with you in first year this wasn't exactly a conversation I planned on having with you, and although we've grown older times haven't changed that much. So, I'm off to have Ginny make me beautiful.”
“Ron thinks you're beautiful.” Harry yelled down the hall.
“Ron, you can curse him now!” Hermione called back. Ron emerged from his dressing room, which was behind Harry. He was grinning, and tapping his wand. Hermione gave Harry a smug look and he turned around. When he saw Ron pointing a wand at him, he let out a loud yelp.
“What shall I do, Mione?” Ron asked.
“Well, we don't want Ginny to be a non-mum forever, so lets rule out what you want to do. However, I reckon the jelly legs jinx will straiten him out for long enough. I might set some birds on him too.” Hermione reasoned.
“She's good at that, you know.” Ron said to Harry. Ginny came out of Hermione's dressing room, saw what was going on, and started to laugh.
“You know I've never seen him dance, Ron. I think you should do it.”
“I love you to, Gin.” Harry said. Ron started to walk into his dressing room, then turned around and jinxed Harry when he wasn't expecting it. Hermione and Ginny toppled over in laughter as Harry started to dance, his black hair flopping up and down dangerously over his panicked face.
“You know who he reminds me of right now?” Ron asked Hermione.
“Of course I do!” Hermione said, laughing still.
“Draco Malfoy-”
“-After he'd been turned into a ferret.”
“You're making me dance around and comparing me to Draco Mafloy? Dammit, this is not my day.” Harry growled.
***
“Welcome back to The Perfect Match, Ron and Hermione.” Colin said, smiling at the two. “We have a few questions for you two today, and then we have a surprise.”
Hermione and Ron were seated on the couch, Hermione surreptitiously leaning on Ron. It was so discreet, in fact, that the only person who noticed besides Ron was Ginny.
“Last time we had a surprise we ended up with taking care of two babies.” Ron muttered into Hermione's ear. She laughed and nodded, but kept her eyes alertly on Colin Love.
“First off- how are you two today?”
“Great.” Ron said fervently, looking down at Hermione's head, inches away from his nose.
“Fine, thank you.” Hermione said to Colin.
“And did you like the last challenge we gave you?”
“Loved it.” Hermione grinned.
“Yep.” Ron agreed.
“Do you miss the two babies you took care of?” Colin asked.
“Yeah.” Hermione said, nodding.
“Nancy and Cam.” Ron added.
“Well, since you two are doing so well on the game show, we've decided to give you a little something.”
Hermione suddenly sat up, and Ron looked resentfully at Colin Love.
“First of all...” Colin said. “Nancy and Cam.”
Harry and Ginny came onto the stage, Ginny carrying Cam and Harry carrying Nancy. He looked a little windswept (the jinx had only just been removed), but he was grinning all the same. Ginny brought Cam over to Ron, giving him a kiss on the cheek before sitting on the couch on the left, the opposite side Hermione and Ron were sitting on. Colin, of course, had his own cream colored chair in the middle, strangely higher then all the others. Harry too gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek before handing her Nancy, but instead of just walking away he whispered in her ear,
“I am so going to get you.”
“It started with a troll.” Hermione sang, and Harry walked away, glaring at her. He sat on the couch and slipped his arm around Ginny. It looked so natural that Hermione wondered if she and Ron looked the same way. Judging from the look on Ginny's face, they did.
“As well as Nancy and Cam (who by the way have been disenchanted so that they are just regular baby dolls),” Colin said, “you are receiving half of the baby supplies you bought and all of the clothes. Enough for one baby at a time.”
“Even though this family has a long history of twins.” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione.
“Right back at you.” Ron said, looking toward Ginny.
Harry turned maroon and his lips turned into a thin line. Ginny, on the other hand, was laughing into her palm, trying not to be too loud. Hermione turned away before Ginny could set her off as well.
“So, Ron, Hermione. How do you think this date has changed your relationship?”
“Well...” Hermione said, thinking. “We used to hate each other, and now we're fri-”
“We didn't hate each other!” Ron said, indignant. “You hated me.”
“Yes, but then you returned my hate.”
“I never hated you.”
“Well I only slightly hated-”
“Here we go...” Ginny said.
“Does this happen often?” Colin asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yes.” Harry and Ginny said together.
“But it's cute, no?” Ginny said, smiling softly at the smiles on Ron and Hermione's faces.
“No. I mean yes.” Colin said.
“Anyway, we're better friends.” Hermione said, abruptly ending the mini-argument.
“That took a while.” Colin said to Harry.
“Mate, you should have been there for third year.” Harry said.
“And fourth.” Ginny added.
“Surprisingly nothing in fifth...” Harry admitted.
“But boy was sixth terrible.” Ginny finished. “Colin, you're looking dizzy, would you like to sit down?”
“No, that's okay.” Colin said. He took on his professional voice again and addressed Ron and Hermione.
“So, you two are closer now?” Colin asked.
“Yes.” Ron and Hermione said at the same time.
“And did this date make you think about having babies?” Colin asked. Both nodded.
“Together?”
“No!” Hermione and Ron said at the same time.
Each had no idea that the other had hidden their fingers in the couch cushions and were crossing them.
“So,” Colin started, “Are you excited for the next date?”
“Despite it all, yes.” Hermione said. “These dates have given us a good chance to see the world.”
“And Hermione greatly appreciates it.” Ron smirked.
“What? I do!” Hermione said.
“So, you two have a few free days until the next date. What are you planning to do?”
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.
“We're having dinner with Harry and Ginny.” Hermione said.
“And possibly making some mischief for them, too.” Ron added.
“Sounds lovely.” Colin said. “Well, here to tell you the next date are Ron Weasley's mum and dad, Molly and Arther Weasley!”
Mrs. Weasley emerged from the curtain, and Hermione jumped up to hug her.
“Hello, Hermione.” Mrs. Weasley said.
“Hi, Mrs. Weasley. How are you?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, I'm very well.” Mrs. Weasley said pleasantly. “George and Angelina have promised to postpone their wedding.”
“Wonderful, congratulations.” Hermione whispered back.
“Yes, well, I can be very crafty sometimes.” Mrs. Weasley said, somewhat smug.
Mr. Weasley was looking at the muggle cameras with great interest. Harry leaned over to Ginny and whispered,
“I know what we're getting your dad this Christmas.”
Hermione and Ron sat back in their seats and Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley walked in front of the camera, their eyes on the prompter.
“Thank you for having us, Colin.” Mrs. Weasley said easily, while Mr. Weasley stood there grinning nervously.
“We honored. No, I mean, we are honored.” Mr. Weasley said helplessly. Ginny and Ron snorted with laughter, while Harry and Hermione looked at Mr. Weasley sympathetically.
“The next date,” Mrs. Weasley said smoothly, “Is going to be live from the city that never sleeps.”
“Where?” Ron asked.
“Live?” Hermione squeaked.
Ron looked at Hermione. She had never in her whole life missed an opportunity to answer a question. Now, she was so shocked about the date she was looking like Mr. Weasley. A deer caught in the headlights.
A/N: So, I'm getting a few comments that my characters are moody still. I just want to say that I'm sorry if that's making the story hard to read, and I'll keep it in mind for the next story when I write it, although I've already finished this one. I hope you'll review and tell me what you think! ~writergirl8
The idea of making a dinner for Harry, Ginny and Ron made Hermione so stressed she had gnawed her fingernails to death. What to put on the menu, what to wear, how to fold the napkins... Hermione couldn't handle it all. But the worst part was the fact that Ron was constantly sending her messages asking about enchanting Nancy and Cam. The truth was, Hermione couldn't bear to see the two alive again. It would be too much like the first time she had them, and Hermione wasn't up for that. She still missed Nancy and Cam, and she couldn't see how Ginny and Harry would not want to have babies after they experienced the twins.
Hermione had decided to respond to each of these messages by asking if Ron wanted ham, lamb or steak (Ham) and if he thought she should get Madam Rosmerta's mead or fire-whiskey (mead). And of course he had responded with more letters about getting some babies and enchanting them. Hermione didn't know if she could take it anymore.
An owl swooped into the house, and Hermione looked up. It was Pig, of course, chattering excitedly. Hermione glared at him.
“Pig, really. Aren't you exhausted?”
Pig hooted, obviously annoyed. Hermione grabbed a piece of fat from the ham and gave it to him. Pig hooted again, then dropped the letter onto the couch. He flew back over to the kitchen table and ate his ham piece there. Then Pig looked around contentedly, as if analyzing his old home. Hermione gave him a look, then walked over to the living room to pick up the letter.
Mione- Nice try. But everybody knows I make better brownies then you. Sorry. It's completely true. As for all the distractions from P.O.O.R.H.G.L, I can completely tell. You think I don't know you- news flash, I've known you since you were 12. I don't care if you're 22 now, I've watched so many changes it's not funny. Over the years, your snogging has improved a ton, and that's just one. Anyway, I'm coming over so we can discuss it. And so you can't avoid me. Dinner's at 7:30, I'll come at 6:00. Think about this: We should get babies with black and red hair so they'll be just like the offspring of Harry and Ginny! This has to work.
After this he had written love, then crossed it out and just signed his name. It was the third time that day he'd done it. Hermione traced the word. Love. Did she love Ron anymore? She thought so. As Ron had said, so much had changed. She'd tried to not love Ron. Now she was attempting to love Ron in a friendly way. And maybe it was working. But Hermione didn't think so. On the other hand, she'd never really loved Ron as a friend. On some level, it had always been a different love. The confusing kind. The kind that most sensible people did their best to avoid.
Hermione glanced at the clock. It was 5:30, meaning she had a half an hour until Ron came. Hermione opened the oven and checked on the ham. It was doing well, as were the cookies she was making using a cookie spell she'd gotten from a cookbook. Salad, check. Warm bread, check. Mashed potatoes, check. Ginny and Harry were taking care of the dessert, and Ron was bringing brownies (the only thing he could make besides spaghetti), although everyone knew Hermione's were better.
She walked into the dining room and took in a deep breath. She had to set the table for four... Harry and Ginny would probably want to sit next to each other, but maybe they should sit across from each other? Or perhaps they should sit with each person on a completely separate end of the table. Hermione decided to do it this way, seating her and Ron at the heads and Harry and Ginny across from each other. After this she placed lavender scented candles all around the room, lighting them with the hopes of creating a calm atmosphere. She had just walked over to the light switch and had turned it down, admiring her work, when a deep voice whispered in her ear.
“Boo.”
Hermione screamed and raised her wand to stun the offender, but it was just Ron.
“You scared me!” she exclaimed, moving her hand down to her heart.
“Way to state the obvious, Mione.”
Hermione laughed, then, seeing the triumphant look on Ron's face, folded her arms and started to glower. He laughed openly and pulled her to his chest. Hermione felt slightly trapped. There was a sort of soaring feeling in her stomach, and then there was another feeling. A confused one. A part of her wanted this hug to be purely platonic. The other part was worried that it was only platonic. That scared her. A lot. She started breathing in a funny pattern, and Ron immediately pushed her back at an arms length and begin scrutinizing her. After deciding that she was perfectly fine, he laughed, then walked into her kitchen. A plate of cookies was sitting on the counter, cooling. Hermione turned her back to check the ham (she was being decidedly silent until further notice) and Ron reached a hand out and grabbed a cookie. He threw it into his mouth and was done chewing when Hermione turned around.
“Hey, Ron,” she said suddenly, turning to face him.
“Yeah?” Ron said.
“There's something I've been wanting to do...”
And then she walked up to him and moved her mouth close to his. Ron squeezed his eyes shut and waited. It was practically unbearable; why was she taking so long? He could smell her sweet breath, the taste of her lips were so close to his he could breathe it. And then it was gone. Ron's eyes popped open to see Hermione already halfway across the kitchen.
“That's what I thought.” she said, grabbing the plate of cookies and sticking them in a cabinet with a padlock on it. Although Ron knew Hermione knew he could open that cabinet in the blink of an eye, he also knew she knew that he wasn't brave enough to do it right now. Which was probably why she looked so smug.
“You could have asked me, you know.” Hermione said, sticking her head into a refrigerator, then coming up with a bag of onions. “I would have said yes. You maybe even could have had two.”
“Oh, you torture me so!” Ron moaned, slumping against the kitchen table, his hand strewn dramatically over his forehead. When he peeked an eye open, he saw Hermione standing above him, clapping, with one eyebrow raised humorously.
“Looks like someone read the muggle novel I gave him.”
“Guilty as charged.” Ron said, bending into an admittedly skillful bow. Hermione's expression was hard for a second, but then it melted into laughter and she walked over to the stove to stir the soup.
“Taste this.” she demanded, and Ron walked excitedly over to sink to wait eagerly for Hermione to perform the intimate act of sticking her spoon into his mouth. It wasn't much, but it was the best he was getting right now... plus Hermione made fantastic soup. Well, she made fantastic everything, in Ron's opinion, but he was still sure that his brownies were better...
“Good?” Hermione asked.
“Brilliant.” Ron said, accidentally slopping some soup onto his chin in his eagerness to respond. Chuckling, Hermione grabbed her ready napkin and wiped Ron's chin.
“How did you...?” Ron asked.
“You do it every time.” Hermione said. “And I have a remarkably good memory.”
“Freaky.” Ron remarked. “So, while we're on your memory, what about Harry and Ginny?”
“What about them?” Hermione asked lightly, feigning stupidity.
“Aren't you the freaky genius girl who got a, what was it, 112 on her charms final in first year?”
“Fine.” Hermione said, pouting a bit. Ron wanted to kiss the pout off of her lips, as always. He resisted, per usual. “I like the idea of having their own babies, actually. I think the idea of seeing Nancy and Cam alive again is... terrible.”
Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat, then turned back to the subject at hand.
“Still, Ron, you haven't completely thought this through. This could easily backfire on you...”
“It won't backfire.” Ron said confidently, while Hermione was practically emitting waves of doubt at him. “And it's plan B, anyway. We'll only use it if A doesn't work.”
“And what's that?” Hermione asked.
“Dinner. We're going to have a nice little family affair tonight.”
“I'm going to go get dressed.” Hermione said. “And maybe when I'm done with my shower, you'll have had your memory knocked out of your head.”
“If so, I'll probably forget that we broke up and start snogging you senseless.” Ron said cheerfully.
“Hmmm.” was all Hermione could say, before walking into her room and shutting the door behind her, although not as firmly as usual.
***
“Great dinner, Hermione.” Harry said.
“Thank you, Harry.” Hermione replied, clearly pleased. She knew, of course, that it was an especially quiet dinner because Ron had been totally silent. Hermione also knew that this was completely due to the fact that she was wearing a very curve hugging red dress.
“Well, we'd better go, Hermione.” Ginny said, smiling at Harry across the table and reaching for his hand.
“Now, wait just a minute.” Ron said, finally tearing his eyes off of Hermione's torso. “I really think you two ought to rethink this. You're both just 20, you know? You don't really need this.”
“Need what?” Harry asked.
“Babies.” Ron and Hermione said together. Then Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth.
“I'm out of this.” she said, standing up and starting to clear plates. Ginny got up to follow, but Hermione put her back in her seat. “Ginny, he's looking out for you. You, unfortunately, are in this.”
“Hermione-” Ginny protested.
“Although I'm out of this, I still completely agree with Ron.” Hermione said, grabbing Ginny's plate and backing out of the room. She dumped the plates into the sink and went to the edge of the door to eavesdrop.
“Look, Hermione and I just took care of two babies. Just one was nearly impossible, and that was when we didn't have real careers or money or anything to be thinking about. Okay, so I guess there's nothing I can do about you having s..sex. But I would like to calmly plead you not to have babies. Think about all the money, time, and energy that could be saved for this stage of your life. When you're older, and have a better handle on life, it will be great, but right now I just don't feel like it's right for you.”
Hermione chanced a glance out into the dining room. Harry was looking utterly convinced, but Ginny was glowering.
“Well, luckily for us, it isn't up to you to decide what's right for us.”
Harry looked like he had just woken up from a long nap.
“And what's more, you and Hermione loved having those babies. I've seen the tapes. You loved it.”
“Yes, I know, but we had help with the money, we didn't have as demanding jobs, and the babies weren't actually real. We had to take that slightly into account. They weren't as breakable as a real baby, and they certainly weren't as hard to take care of.”
Ginny stood up impatiently.
“You're being ridiculous, Ron, you really are. Harry and I are going to go home right NOW and he is going to get-”
“If you're not that willing to believe it, I guess I'll have to intervene.” Hermione said, emerging from the kitchen. But she was not alone. Writhing in her arms were two babies, the girl with small tufts of red hair and bright green eyes, the boy with messy black hair and alert brown eyes.
“W...what are those?” Ginny asked, looking at the cooing babies. Ron looked as though all his dreams had just come true.
“These are baby dolls enchanted to act just like real babies would. They cry, they puke, they burp, they eliminate waste...”
“Diapers?” Harry said, looking more afraid then he had the first time he had seen Lord Voldemort.
“Indeed.” Hermione said, nodding gravely. She handed the girl to Ginny, and the boy to Harry.
“Let's get something straight. When we said we wanted a baby, we didn't mean now, we meant in nine months.”
“Judging from the books I've been reading on becoming a parent, those nine months go faster then you'd expect.”
“Since when have you been reading book about becoming a parent?” Harry asked interestedly.
“Yeah, since when?” Ron demanded, turning to Hermione.
Both girls ignored their respective loves-of-their-lives.
“Why are you doing this?” Ginny asked coldly.
“Because I want you to be prepared.” Hermione said, her voice begging.
“Fine. We'll take them as long as you promise to babysit.” Ginny said after a moment of thought.
“Ginny!” Harry protested, but Ginny held up a hand.
“Fine.” Hermione said. “Done.”
Without further ado, Ginny stood up and walked over to the door, her nose in the air. Harry gave Hermione and Ron an apologetic look before jumping up and scampering out of the kitchen after his angry wife.
“That was brilliant.” Ron said, grinning.
“Thanks.” Hermione replied, smiling shyly up at him.
“I'd better go too.” Ron announced, standing up.
“Oh.” Hermione sighed, sounding let down. “I was hoping you'd stay and watch this muggle movie with me... I've watched it before, and I think you'll like it.”
“Another time.” Ron said genuinely.
“Okay.” Hermione beamed, knowing his reply was real. She walked him to the door. Ron turned to leave into the dark and starry night. Just as Hermione was closing the door, however, he stuck his foot in it. She opened it up again, looking surprised. She could just see his dark outline, his freckles and pale nose.
“Hermione?” Ron said, ending her name as a question.
“Yes?” Hermione breathed.
“If I told you I loved you, would you get mad at me?”
“Is it in a purely platonic way?”
“Er- not entirely.”
“Then, no, I wouldn't get mad at you.”
“Well then. I love you.” Ron whispered.
“I love you too.” Hermione said quietly. And then she shut the door once and for all.
Chapter 30: Live From New York, It's Saturday Night
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The sunlight was peeking playfully through Hermione's windows as she woke up the morning of the fateful date. The fateful date, the life changing date, the head spinning, heart beating, palm sweating date. To be quite fair, the morning started out just as any morning would. And, just as most fateful days went, Hermione had no awareness of anything different or life changing hanging in the air. All she knew was that she was off to spend a night in the big apple with Ronald Weasley, and that was enough for her.
The first fateful news of the day was not, however, good news. Hermione ate a very nutritious breakfast of sticky buns, then she went to the studio. It was surprisingly empty- not even Ben was around. Hermione wondered why, but she didn't stop to think about it. Instead, she walked into her dressing room and walked into her Perfect Match closet. She was surprised to see that there was an outfit in there, after all. She was even more shocked to see that she liked it. The dress was a baby doll dress, white with violet trimmings. A little on the short side, but still cute. At this rate, Hermione wasn't sure if she minded wearing a short dress in front of Ron. She just wanted him to tell her that he loved her again.
“There you are!” Ginny said, bursting into the room. She was wearing a satisfied expression on her face, and Hermione immediately knew something was up.
“What's the smug look for?” Hermione asked. Her eyes widened, and she shut the door to the dressing room. “Wait- did you get pregnant already?”
“No, Harry threw one of the babies out the window so we decided to wait a few months.”
Ginny's smug look was erased when Hermione started doing her patented 'I told you so' dance.
“That's not the point!” Ginny said. “The point is, it was supposed to rain in New York today, except we cast a spell on it to be a beautiful, warm day today with no rain. Our spells should hold until after dark.”
“Hence the dress?” Hermione said, gesturing to the dress.
“Hence the dress.” Ginny nodded. “You like?”
“Yeah, I do. Good job on both accounts.”
“I thought you'd like it.” Ginny said, and the smirk flashed back onto her face.
“So, does Ron know that you and Harry aren't going to be parents quite yet?”
“Yes, Harry told him last night.”
Hermione sighed dramatically.
“Always the last one to know.”
“Last one to know what?” Ron asked, poking his head into the room.
“That Harry and Ginny aren't...”
“Right. Got it.” Ron stepped into the room, brandishing two roses. He handed one to Hermione, then walked over to Ginny and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“To my darling sister.” He said, and then he all but skipped out of the room. Ginny erupted into a fit of laughter.
“What was that about?” Hermione asked, bemused.
“He's been in such a good mood lately.” Ginny noted, going over to Hermione's closet to pull out the dress.
“It's because of your and Harry's decision.” Hermione said, shrugging. She took the dress from Ginny and pulled it on. The fabric was soft and nice.
“No, he was pretty happy before that. He came over the day we told him we decided to wait to be parents and he was already looking over the moon. Did something happen between you and him after me and Harry left?”
“Er- not exactly.” Hermione said.
“Not exactly... translation: 'Yes, something did, but I don't want to tell my totally amazing best friend Ginny because I'm a snob'. So what happened, then?”
“I'm not a snob!” Hermione said, her eyes widening as she delicately placed a hand on her heart.
“Hmph.” Ginny said. She turned her back to get the shoes, and Hermione quickly lowered the hem of the dress with a spell she'd found in a magazine. Ginny stood up.
“Hermione, did you get shorter, or did that dress get longer?”
“Hmm?” Hermione said, looking up innocently.
“Never mind.” Ginny said, still looking oddly at Hermione. She turned back around and withdrew some light purple wedges from the closet and handed them to Hermione. She caught them and put them on, then sat in her chair to let Ginny do her hair. Ginny straitened it, but it was closer to the usual curly mess then the glossy straight locks Ginny usually produced. Ginny took Hermione's hair and brought it into a neat bun, leaving a few strands down on the right side of Hermione's face. The makeup was pretty simple. Shimmery eyeshadow that Hermione wanted the claw off, pink lip gloss that tasted like wedding cake, eyeliner and a darkening/lengthening spell on Hermione's lashes.
“I must say,” Ginny said as she finished off the spell with a quick flick of her wand. “You have beautiful eyelashes.”
“I always hated my lashes.” Hermione groaned.
“They're unique and beautiful.” Ginny said firmly. “Not many people have eyelashes like that.”
Ben, the security guard, peeked his head into the room.
“You do have beautiful eyelashes, you know.” he said in his deep voice.
“Thank you, Ben.” Ginny said, smiling at him. Hermione, meanwhile, whirled around and gave Ben a look.
“How much can you hear through that door?” she asked.
“Enough.” Ben said, and Hermione blushed red, thinking of all the times she'd cried in the dressing room.
“He means all.” Ginny grinned.
Hermione turned to scowl up at Ginny.
“Oh, did I just hear Harry call me?” Ginny asked quickly.
“I didn't hear any-” Ben started, but Ginny elbowed him in the stomach as she left the room. A sharp 'ow!' sounded down the hallway, and Hermione turned her head to see Ben laughing a booming laugh, clutching his side not in pain, but in pure enjoyment. This, of course, made Hermione think of Ron's abs. They were new. As in, he hadn't had them when they were dating. And there was something about them that made Hermione curious. She loved abs as much as the next woman, but there was something odd about Ron only wanting them only after they broke up...
“Oh. Well... it's a long story. One that I might tell you one day.”
Hermione thought about his sheepish grin, one that she'd been thinking about ever since it appeared on his face. The grin appeared in her mind almost as much as Nancy and Cam's giggling baby faces. The faces that now stared blankly at the wall or ceiling. It was a cold and cruel reminder that they were not real.
The door burst open, and in walked Colin, sporting a camera crew.
“Hello, Hermione.” he sang.
“Hi, Colin.” Hermione laughed sweetly.
“Oh, I just love your outfit!” Colin squealed.
“Thanks. I do too.” Hermione replied.
“Another work of art by Mrs. Ginevra Potter. She should have been a fashion designer. What a waste. Qudditch.”
“I'm sure many Harpy fans would disagree with you.” Hermione noted gently.
“Someone's in a very non rude and biting mood.” Ron said, poking his head once more through the door and then walking away. Ginny walked through the door ten seconds later, looking amused.
“He's doing a lot of that today, isn't he?” she asked.
“Most defiantly.” Hermione said.
“Colin, how many times must I tell you? You must do the interview before I dress Hermione. We've been having this issue from date ONE.”
“Yes, well, I'm obviously right.” Colin said, flicking a piece of his hair idly out of his face. Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled a white, button up shirt on over Hermione's dress.
“Hermione, when Alan says '3,2,1', you're going to say...”
“It's Alex.” The very annoyed camera man said, and Hermione flashed him a sympathetic smile.
“Yes, him,” Colin said, waving his hand impatiently. “When he says, you're going to say 'Hi, I'm Hermione Granger from The Perfect Match! We're airing my date with Ronald Weasley live, from New York, this Saturday night, so stay turned, because it starts in just a half an hour'”
“It does?” Hermione said, a look of panic crossing her face.
“No, it doesn't, this clip is going to be aired a half an hour to the show.”
Colin rolled his eyes, as if everyone was supposed to know this.
“Ron is filming a clip for an hour before the show, and another one at 5 minutes.” Ginny added.
“How come Ron gets more video clips to record?”
“More sex appeal.” Colin said, looking incredulously at Hermione.
“What, is he doing it with his shirt off or something?” Hermione snorted. Honestly. The thought of women across the nation watching a TV show for Ron Weasley, her Ron Weasley, was simply absurd.
Then again, he wasn't her Ron Weasley anymore. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he had changed a lot in the past few months. But Hermione didn't think so. Not that she liked looking him in the eyes. But she couldn't worry about it right now, because Ginny was giving Hermione a really odd look. Colin, meanwhile, was indicating to the camera man that he should zoom in on Hermione's face. Alex did so.
“Ms. Granger, have you recently seen Mr. Weasley with his shirt off?”
Hermione nearly choked on her own tongue trying to figure out how not to answer the question.
“Ummm... Hi, I'm Hermione Granger from The Perfect Match! We're airing my date with Ronald Weasley live, from New York, this Saturday night, so stay turned, because it starts in just a half an hour!”
“Sure she has,” Ginny said, jumping in to save Hermione. “They went swimming during the last date, remember?”
“Oh.” Colin said, looking visibly disappointed. He turned back to Hermione. “And if you ever do that again, you want to be more like 'LIVE FROM NEW YOK, IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT!' As opposed to... well, the awful boring voice you just exhibited.”
Hermione looked at her wrist.
“Isn't it time for you to go?”
“Er- I guess.” Colin said. And then he left the room. If he had been anymore observant he would have realized that Hermione had been looking at the bracelet Ron had given her for her 19th birthday, not a watch.
***
“So this is America.” Ron said, looking around the street.
Hermione shrugged.
“I guess.” she said. “And you'd better not ruin this for me like you did Italy.”
Ron crossed his heart.
“Good.” Hermione said. She suddenly became conscious of Alex the camera man and Sam the sound man holding microphones up to their faces, as well as a dozen or more people behind them. Ron and Hermione stared at the technical instruments until the two men made cutting motions beneath their throats.
“I guess we should get going to wherever we're going.” Hermione said uncertainly.
“Well... where are we going?” Ron asked.
“Some place that serves spaghetti... and then another place that serves frozen hot chocolate.”
“What's the point of hot chocolate if it's frozen?” Ron asked incredulously.
Hermione shrugged.
“I don't know. I didn't invent it.”
She looked around the street, her eyes glinting.
“You don't think they'd sell a book that told us about that, do you?”
“Probably not.” Ron said, rolling his eyes.
The camera men started to make sarcastic noises. Apparently Ron and Hermione needed to be more interesting when they were live.
“Okay, er, let's go.” Hermione said. She felt Ron's arm slip through hers, and before she knew it they were walking laughingly down the street.
It turned out that the place they were going to was a very private Italian restaurant that had their food ready when they got there. Hermione and Ron were led to their table by a waiter who was grinning cheekily.
“Welcome, Perfect Match Contestants!” he said in a booming Italian voice.
“So this is what we missed in Italy.” Ron said, looking down at the single plate of spaghetti with eight meatballs.
“You can have six of the meatballs, Ron.” Hermione said before Ron could open his mouth to ask. “And I think what they're trying to do is create a Lady and the Tramp type atmosphere.”
“What did you just call me?” Ron asked through a mouthful of meatball.
“I didn't call you anything! It's a muggle movie... uhg, I keep forgetting you don't know them.”
“Isn't it more American to go to a baseball game and get beer and hot dogs or something?”
Hermione shrugged again.
“No idea. Just eat your food.”
Of course it had to happen. The whole long joined strip of spaghetti thing. Hermione and Ron were so caught up in arguing over whether Quidditch or reading was more enjoyable (both were so passionate about their subjects neither was winning) that they didn't notice that they had grabbed the same spaghetti piece. Ron noticed it first, then Hermione. They gave each other a look, then Hermione grabbed her knife and cut off the piece halfway.
“There.” she said, once she had cut it off. The camera men both sighed groans of exasperation,which Ron grinned at as he slurped up more pasta. It was sunset by the time they were finished with the spaghetti, Ron and Hermione headed to the next address, the frozen hot chocolate. Just the lobby was impressive, and Hermione was immediately wooed towards the idea of frozen hot chocolate. The two bantered about random things as they waited in line. Hermione ordered a peanut butter frozen hot chocolate, and Ron a regular one. As huge as they were, the frozen hot chocolates were finished in no time (Hermione finished hers first mostly due to the fact that Ron kept on grabbing sips when he thought she wasn't looking).
After finishing their chocolates, while both were on an immensely high sugar high, Hermione bought a tee-shirt, then they left the restaurant. The streets were oddly empty, and it was almost dark. And then, all of a sudden, it started to rain.
It was a warm rain, so Hermione figured Ginny's spells had held up just enough to make the rain comfortable. She smiled as she tilted her head up to embrace the feeling of the rain pounding on her face. Ron was simply standing there, watching her, letting himself get soaked as she smiled softly and the rain pounded on her face. Suddenly Hermione's face snapped up, and she ran to the nearest lamppost and started swinging around it.
“What are you doing?” Ron asked.
“'Singing In The Rain!'” Hermione called. “I've wanted to do this since I saw that movie, and now's my chance.”
Ron laughed. This was one of the movies Hermione had showed him while they were dating, although he could only remember one part of it. The part where the man was dancing in the rain. He looked back over at Hermione. Her hair was plastered to her face, the neat bun completely undone. He had never seen her face like this before, so happy and proud and peaceful all at the same time. She looked joyful. Something about her face made Ron walk over to her and try swinging around the lamppost too. They met halfway. The laughter was completely gone from Hermione's face as she looked into Ron's eyes. They were intense, serious, and slightly clouded. There was a feeling in there Ron didn't want Hermione to know.
They were so close. They hadn't been this close to each other during the last date, even though they were in the same bed. They hadn't been this close to each other when they were swimming, or when they were giving the babies baths. Hermione could pick out every freckle on Ron's face, see the long scar on his jawline. Something in her stomach was aching as she reached up. Her hand found the scar, and her finger traced it slowly. They were oblivious to the rain now, and the fact that the streetlights had switched on. They were illuminated, as if in a spotlight. Ron had his eyes closed at Hermione's touch, and he slowly started to lean down.
“Damn, we're out of film.”
Alex's voice slashed through the darkness, breaking the trance. Ron suddenly became aware of everything, of the rain, the blinding streetlight, and his lips, softly brushing Hermione's. She jerked back as if she had been shocked, and she stood there for a few moments, her breathing jagged and uneasy. Ron knew what was going to happen before it did.
“Hermione...” he said. His voice saying her name triggered her. With a sharp breath, Hermione turned around and ran through the crowd of crew people. Ron rushed after her, knocking down anyone who stood in his way, calling her name desperately. But it was too late. By the time he got through the crowds of confused, hectic crew people, Hermione was gone.
A/N: So, Chapter 30! Huuuge milestone! We have 20 chapters left, but this one was a GINORMOUS turning point in the story, so just note that, okay? And, yes, for those of you saying that the story must be ending soon, it's not. It's 50 Chapters! Oh, and I own neither Harry Potter nor the line 'Live From New York, It's Saturday Night." That's SNL! ~writergirl8
Everything had changed, and yet Hermione's house seemed the same as it always had been. There was the tea cup she had used this morning, and her towel from her morning shower was still draped over the bed. It seemed simply odd to her that the whole world had not alerted itself to her situation. She looked over at the teacup, sitting there innocently in the sink. It inspired a new feeling, not of being afraid, but a flash of anger. In one second, she had grabbed the cup and flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall was a satisfying crash. Stupid cup. It should have been put away. And yet- that was Hermione's fault, she supposed. It was her fault the cup had not been put away. And the cup shouldn't have had to suffer from it.
She'd kissed him. For the first time in months, she'd kissed him.
Hermione walked slowly over to the cup. It was smashed in a million different pieces.
“Reparo!” she said, and the cup flew together again. The tears started to flow, and Hermione set the cup down, then crawled onto the couch, curling herself into a ball. At least magic seemed the same. And yet it had lost its thrill when Hermione lost him.
He'd always laugh at her as she opened her eyes incredulously at the sight of a new spell. He knew all about magic, and yet he didn't know how it felt to be a muggle born experiencing it. It was one of the things about him Hermione both abhorred and treasured. But she didn't want to think about that right now. She didn't want to think about him or herself or Harry or Ginny or The Perfect Match, or anything. She just wanted to curl up into her little ball and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was apparently an occupational hazard of having your heart broken. Of being in love and confused and angry at yourself and at the world for giving you all these feelings that you didn't want.
Pigwidgeon flew into the house, hooting. He dropped a note onto the couch and looked at Hermione's tear streaked face.
“What?” Hermione asked. “Oh, Ron told you to wait until I opened it, didn't he?”
Pig hooted.
“Fine, fine.”
But Hermione didn't want to open it. Hermione wanted to avoid Ron with every fiber of her being. She wanted to forget that he existed, forget that she loved him, forget that his scent was attached somewhat to the note from being in his presence for so long. She grabbed the note and opened it.
“See?” Hermione told Pig. “I opened it. You happy?”
Pig hooted once more.
“He told you to wait until I read it out loud, didn't he?”
This was a tactic Hermione had often used on Ron. Pig had always been more then happy to peck his owner to the death, and Hermione had been sure to employ him for that purpose. Hermione waited until Pig hooted his yes before opening the note and pretending to skim the page.
“Okay. Got it. Good enough?”
After Pig finally left, Hermione threw the note across the room. After shutting the window with her wand, she stood up with a new purpose. She was going to go away. She was going to a place that Ron had never been before. She was going to avoid everything and everyone wizard with every thing she had. She was going home.
Hermione walked over to her closet and started throwing everything she owned into a suitcase. She got to the bottom of her closet and gathered everything on the floor. It was then that she saw it. A box. A simple white box that was in the shape of a rectangle. But she knew what it was. The lingerie Ginny had gotten her the day Ginny had gotten the wedding dress. And inside of it was a drawing of a beautiful wedding dress that Hermione never was to wear. Probably. She didn't want to wear it if she wasn't marrying Ron. Hermione stuffed the box to the back of her closet and started to stand up. But something in her wouldn't let her push the box to the back of the closet. She didn't know what it was. Maybe love for Ron, or hate for herself, or blatant curiosity. Hermione grabbed the box and opened it.
The silky fabric of the lingerie was lying on top. Hermione picked it up and looked at it. It seemed innocent enough, and yet the idea of Hermione in it wouldn't even enter her mind. The underwear wasn't what she was looking for anyway. Hermione wanted the drawing. She slowly lifted it up with her other hand and inspected it closely. It was still beautiful. Hermione still loved it.
And then she started to laugh. And she started to cry. At the same time. It was stupid, really stupid. Who laughed and cried at the same time? But Hermione was still doing that when Ginny walked into her room. She spotted her friend on the floor and cradled Hermione in her arms.
“I saw the date. I'm sorry.”
“It's okay.” Hermione said, and she wiped her nose with her sleeve. This was so uncharacteristic of her Ginny's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head.
“You love him.” she said, and her voice was clear and confident.
“I guess.” Hermione said.
“Not as a friend.” Ginny prodded.
“Against my will.” Hermione added.
“I know how you feel.” Ginny sighed. “How do you think I felt when Harry left me for the hunt? I didn't want to love him. And yet I did. I was angry because I couldn't stop feeling for him. Which was what I wanted. I pictured myself forgetting him, being with someone else. But somewhere in the dream that someone else always turned into Harry.”
Hermione didn't have to say anything for her to know that she had hit the nail on the head.
“So, where are you going?” Ginny asked. “Or are you cleaning out your closet?”
“No, I'm leaving.” Hermione said, and she stood up, bringing her suitcase onto her bed so she could zip it.
“Why?” Ginny asked. “It's not like you to run away.”
“I don't know what to do, Ginny.” Hermione said desperately. “Every part of me but one is telling me to be with Ron. I'm so scared of messing it up again, of putting us even further away from repair then we are now. What if we can't get fixed? What if we aren't meant to be? It'll be too hard. And I love him so much, and he loves me, but I don't know how much of my heart I have left to risk.”
She exhaled and looked at her fingers.
“It's just Ron that can make me want to stay and run away all at the same time.”
“Unfortunate, isn't it?” Ginny asked ironically.
“Very.” Hermione confirmed, picking up her suitcase.
“Where did you say you were going?” Ginny asked casually, taking Hermione's suitcase's place on the bed.
“I'm not going to tell you.” Hermione said, walking to the living room so she could vanish the contents of her fridge.
“Do you want my asparagus?” Hermione asked Ginny absently.
“Sure.” Ginny said, taking it. “Can I have your smoked salmon, too?”
“Help yourself.” Hermione told her.
“So, why aren't you telling me?”
“I'm sorry, Ginny,” the brunet apologized, flashing her a sympathetic smile, “But if I tell you you'll tell Ron, and that's not an option.”
“Sometimes I hate you for being to smart.” Ginny sighed.
“Yes, well, you have the beauty, I have the brains.”
“I also have the brawn.” Ginny added smugly. “I win.”
“Yes, you do,” Hermione told her. “Be sure to lock up behind you.”
And then Hermione turned on her heel and apparted out of her home.
***
The Granger household was the same as it always had been. Neat, white, plain. It was perhaps a little big for a family of three, but not by much. In the back was a vegetable and herb garden that Hermione used to tend to every day after school. In the front was a flower garden that her mum took great pride in. It was in a nice, safe neighborhood, and there was a cookie swap every Christmas, as well as a ladies' book club, which Hermione's mum had been first to join.
When Hermione had first arrived, her mum had been thrilled to see her. Mr and Mrs. Granger peeked around Hermione to see if Ron was walking down the street, as Hermione had been promising to bring him to properly meet them sometime after Harry and Ginny's wedding. However, upon seeing that he wasn't coming, Hermione's parents wanted an explanation. Hermione knew that in the Granger family, running away was not encouraged. You were always supposed to finish what you started, never give up. Hermione's parents' thrill of seeing her was short lived, and her mum became a bit cooler towards her when she told Mrs. Granger what was going on. This, of course, did not stop her from making Hermione smiley face pancakes and putting extra whipped cream in her ice cream while she watched Friends in her pajamas.
But as soon as Hermione saw the ice cream, she knew her mum was going to want a further explanation. Hermione had given her a brief explanation as soon as she'd gotten there, but the escapee knew she'd want a better one. So Hermione wasn't surprised when she turned down the television and turned to face Hermione shortly after cleaning up the kitchen.
“So,” her mum said, “I think you owe me a very, very good explanation as to why you're running away.”
“I'm going to go garden, actually.” Hermione said, getting up and tearing her eyes away from Ross and Rachel, who were talking about some sort of break.
“Hermione Jean Granger, for the last week I have been hosting you in this house, and you at least owe it to me to explain why I have to.”
“Oh, that's easy. It's your motherly obligation, seeing as I'm your daughter.”
“Hermione. To be frank, these wizards have turned you into a rude little thing. Also, isn't anyone feeding you? You're as thin as a rail.”
“I'm twenty one, mum. I feed myself.”
“Well, maybe you should learn to do it better. Either that or get married to some rich man and have him pay for you to eat out every day. Your father and I can supply meal money until then.”
“Mum!”
“Why are you here?”
Hermione sighed dejectedly.
“I told you. I'm confused.”
Mrs. Granger stared thoughtfully at Hermione for a few good seconds, then said,
“Hermione, I know that I've taught you to think everything you do through, but I think you're making love more complicated then it has to be. And besides, why can't you run away in your own home?”
Hermione snorted.
“Mum, love is complicated. You'll have to accept that. And I can't stay in my own home because there are too many memories.”
“Don't take that tone with me, Hermione. I know love is complicated. But there is a way to unravel things a little so you can look at it more clearly.”
“How?” Hermione asked in spite herself.
“Do you love him?”
“Mum...” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“Just answer the question, Hermione Granger.”
“Yes.” Hermione said in a very small voice. “I love him. A lot.”
“Well.” Mum said, smiling. “Now that that's out of the way. What are you going to do about it?”
“Mum, why do you think I'm here?” Hermione groaned.
“To get my lovely motherly opinion.” her mum said.
“No. I'm here to run away and figure things out myself.”
Mrs. Granger reached over and cupped her daughter's chin in her hand, forcing Hermione to look at her.
“Hermione, love, obviously that's not working out too well for you. Let me help you.”
“Fine.” Hermione said huffily, but she turned her face away so she wouldn't have to look at her.
“You love him.” her mum said, and when Hermione opened her mouth, she held a finger up to it. “You love him, and you won't be happy without him. This we know. So what you really need is to fix this with him. You can work on it together.”
“Thanks mum, but... you know what I need?”
“What?” mum asked.
“I need to talk to someone I trust, but who doesn't know me or Ron very well.”
Hermione turned to face mum, her face shining with the anticipation of her epiphany.
“Mum, does Rose Carter still live here?”
A/N: So, I know this update is ridiculously fast, but I got so many AWESOME reviews for this chapter (But one specifically awesome one by Potternerd1997). So, thanks guys. Speedy update, dedicated to you. I know you're probably saying "Wow, slip up, Rose's name is the exact same of Ron and Hermione's child in the epilogue." But... that MAYBE is on purpose XD Just a thought. This chapter is a filler, but I like it anyway, and I know it's short, but I also like it anyway for that. So, yeah. I do not own Friends, even though a reference was made to it. I do not own Harry Potter, either, but you already know that ;) Thanks for reading! ~writergirl8
The wind was blowing hard when Hermione left her sanctuary of home. No longer protected by her shield of family and Friends (and Hermione had just gotten to a great part where the neat-freak cook character and sarcastic accountant character got together), Hermione felt more chilly then she usually would. Still, the real world was inevitable. And she was only going down the street. It turned out that Hermione's childhood friend still lived there. It surprised her at first- but then she realized that Rosie had never been much of a get up and go doer. If she had been the one that got the invite to Hogwarts, she probably would have rejected it. She probably would have told her best friend. In fact, if it were Rose that got the invitation to Hogwarts, the two probably would still be best friends. But she hadn't gotten the invite. And Hermione and Rose weren't friends anymore. Leading to Hermione feeling slightly crazy as she approached Rose's house, the same one Rose had lived in all those years ago.
Hermione's knees were wobbling hard as she walked up the steps, her hands shaking as she reached up to knock. she didn't know how Rose would receive her. She hadn't been a very good friend to her, and Hermione knew that. But Hermione needed her right now, and she was the only person who Hermione trusted with all her heart that barely knew Hermione or Ron. And so Hermione reached up and knocked. The door was answered by a small little boy with brown hair and missing teeth. He looked Hermione up and down, then frowned.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I'm Hermione Granger. I'm an old friend of your mum's. Is she home?”
The little boy cast weary eyes on her, and he brought a piece of fabric up to his mouth and started to chew on it.
“She's home.” he replied.
“Can you go get her?” Hermione asked gently.
“Yeah.” the boy said, and then he ran off to go find his mother. Hermione waited nervously for her old friend to appear at the door. The boy came back, pulling his mother's skirt and holding the hand of a little red-headed child in her arms. Rose looked the same as she had when she was 11 years old. She had sparkling green eyes and bright red hair. She looked like what Hermione imagined Harry's mum to look like, except for the fact that she had bright green eyes and not the emerald green Harry was famous for. Rose's curly auburn locks framed her face beautifully, and her cheekbones were as high as ever. She seemed to have passed her beautiful genes onto her little boy and girl, as both were adorable. With a pang, Hermione realized that she could have had the same life if Ron and her hadn't gotten so messed up.
“Hermione?” Rose said, her eyes wide.
“Yes.” Hermione said, and she broke into a smile. Rose smiled too, shyly, incredulously. Her little girl tugged on her hair, but Rose barely seemed to notice as she moved forward to pull the door open wider.
“Come in!” Rose said, smiling, a dimple forming on her cheek.
Hermione walked tentatively into the cozy house. It was the same set up, but the furnishings were mostly different. Rose led her down a hallway and through the kitchen. She motioned for Hermione to take a bar stool, then set to making tea.
“Do you live here?” Hermione asked.
“Yes.” Rose said. “Grant and I got married just out of university, and my mum died soon after Mike was born. I couldn't bear to let the house go, so we moved in here, and then along came Polly.”
Hermione laughed at the reference to the muggle movie, and looked down at the little girl cradled in Rose's arms.
“She's named after your mum.” Hermione noted softly. Rose nodded. “I'm so sorry, Rose. Your mother was a great woman.”
“That she was,” Rose sighed. “But she was very sick, and in lots of pain. I think it was for the best.”
“I'm sorry for hurting our friendship, too, Rose.” Hermione said meekly.
“I understand.” Rose said, shrugging.
“You do?” Hermione asked, surprised.
“Well, no, I don't, exactly.” Rose said. “But your mum said that you had a secret, and many people's beings depended on you keeping that secret. She said that you would rather not be my friend then be having to constantly lie to me. I didn't understand, but now I do, because I have one too. And I know what your secret was. Which is why I'm not angry.”
“You have a secret?” Hermione asked, her heart skipping a beat.
Rose leaned forward in her chair, her eyes shining.
“I married a squib.”
It took a second for that to sink in.
“And you know... everything?”
“Yes.” Rose said. “I know about Hogwarts, because Mike is showing signs of magic, and he might be going there. It's very rare that squibs who marry muggles have magical children, isn't it?” Rose asked excitedly. “A healer thinks that maybe I may have a magical background in my family.”
Hermione's thoughts flashed instantly to Rose's eyes and her dark red hair.
“Maybe.” she said. Then she laughed. “It's funny, I thought for sure that you were going to be angry. I thought you were going to slam the door in my face.”
Rose shook her head.
“It's been a long time, Hermione. Let bygones be bygones, and all that. I was angry at first, but it's been years.”
“I guess. I... I just know some people who can really hold a grudge.” Hermione grinned.
“Not me.” Rose said cheerfully.
“Thankfully.” Hermione added.
Rose set the tea in front of her and Hermione started to add milk and sugar. Rose took her place across from her old friend and stared into Hermione's face for a moment.
“You've changed so much,” she said, nostalgic, “But your eyes are the same.”
“I guess.” Hermione said, reaching a hand up to smooth her hair.
“So. Why are you here?” Rose asked briskly, getting down to business.
Hermione flushed at how easy to read she must be to inspire that comment.
“I need help.” Hermione said finally. “I need an opinion. I need someone who hasn't been in the center of everything, but someone I know has a good, level head, and good judgment, too.”
“And so you came to me.” Rose said carefully.
“Yes.” Hermione said.
“And what is it exactly you need help on?” Rose asked. Polly came in and threw her doll into the refrigerator, but Rose once again didn't let it bother her. She stood up and got the doll back, kissed her daughter on the cheek and brought her onto her lap.
“Well I'm confused about...” Hermione suddenly did not want to say the L word.
“Matters of love, huh?” Rose said, laughing. “Tell me, is it that Ron boy you met when you went to the school? The second summer you came home you saw me before you left, and we went in a boat, and you'd blush red any time anyone said 'row', because you thought that they were saying 'Ron'.”
“Actually,” Hermione said, “It is him.”
Rose looked shocked. Then she laughed.
“Well, can't say I'm not surprised. Most relationships don't last from eleven to twenty one. Then again, You never have been very easily swayed.”
“Well,” Hermione said, “We weren't really together until we were 17. There were... speed bumps. Lots of them. But we were best friends. Most of the time.”
“Wasn't there a third guy in the picture?”
“Harry Potter.” Hermione nodded.
“Harry Potter... even I've heard of him!” Rose said, looking amazed. “Wow, Hermione!”
“Yes, well, being best friends with the chosen one had its price.” Hermione warned.
“Still...” Rose shook her head. “Okay, back to Ron. What's the problem?”
Hermione took a large sip of tea. And then she started to explain. She told Rose everything- moments from first year, moments from 3 years ago. She told her about the game show and living with Ron and all the times that she'd kissed or almost kissed or wanted to kiss Ron in the past few months. She told her what she'd told Ginny a few months ago. 'I can't be happy with him, and I can't be happy without him'. Rose sat there patiently and listened, keeping a careful expression built onto her face. When Hermione was done speaking she took a long gulp of tea and waited for Rose to speak.
“And you're depending the fate of you and Ron on me?” Rose asked. She whistled. “Hermione, I'm not sure if I'm the person to help you with this. But I will tell you one thing. I think that by being here you have already made your decision. You just need someone to convince you of it- someone not partial to Ron, which Harry and Ginny are. This is what I know. You sometimes can find another person that is your soul mate, but you are usually only given that person because you have to move on from the other one. A death, or a divorce, or a breakup because it just wasn't meant to be. That said, I don't think you'll find anyone else that will even compare to Ron. As I'm sure you know, you don't find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with every day. You and Ron have been through so much together, I reckon you'll always be drawn to each other in one way. And I'll tell you this, Hermione. Once you start something, you never give up. Even if you try to make yourself, you will never forget Ron. You will never be able to stop loving him because you don't hand yourself off to some guy that easily.”
Hermione bit her lip.
“If you can see it, everyone except me can.” she said miserably.
“Now you can, too.” Rose reasoned. “Here's what I say, Hermione. Go after him. Be with him. You seem to know that by choosing him you'll be making the right choice. And by making the right choice you know you'll be happy.”
Rose glanced lovingly down at Polly, who was still on her lap, now sleeping peacefully.
“Thank you, Rose.” Hermione said softly, looking at Polly as well.
Rose stood up.
“I've got to put her down for her nap. And I believe you've got a man to go find.”
***
“Wait- you're leaving?” Mrs. Granger asked, looking shocked.
“Yes. I'm leaving.” Hermione said. She pointed her wand at her dresser and a pair of sweatpants flew into her suitcase.
“Why?” Mrs. Granger wined.
“Because I'm in love.” Hermione said, laughing. “It's really as simple as that.”
“I thought you said love isn't simple?” Mrs. Granger said craftily.
“Oh, it isn't.” Hermione responded. “But for the purpose of this conversation it is.”
Mrs. Granger sighed and sat on her daughter's bed.
“Oh well. I guess I can't win this one. You always were better at debating then me. If your father was home, however, you'd be sunk.”
“Yeah, he could always top me on that front.”
“Take some flowers with you, Hermione. You probably need some light in your life.” Mrs. Granger said, grabbing a shirt from a drawer and folding it.
“Mum, don't bother helping me pack. I can do it all by magic.”
“Yes, I know, love, but I'm your mother. It's my motherly duty, remember? Same motherly duty as letting you stay in my home while you were running away from your feelings.”
“Which you did not do without question.” Hermione noted, giving her mother a soft peck on the cheek.
“Well, at least Rose helped you.” Mrs. Granger said, rolling her eyes.
“You're right. She did.”
“Took you long enough, anyway. You and Ron are perfect for each other.”
“You've met him twice. In passing.” Hermione said.
“Yes, but I've heard about him through your letters. Remember the time you sent me one and he started to doodle all over it?”
Hermione laughed.
“That was 5th year, I think. And he wasn't doodling, he was asking me to help him with his homework via paper because I was ignoring him.”
“Also I think he knew that the slightest graffiti-ing to your paper would tick you off to no ends.” Mrs. Granger laughed.
“Yes, that too.”
“You were much to blind to see it, though.”
“I know.” Hermione said, sighing. “I'm always blind when it comes to him. Maybe that's why I love him. Maybe that's why we'll work out. He isn't predictable to me. He's one of the few people who isn't. Rose was one of them.”
“Am I?” Mrs. Granger asked.
“Unfortunately, mum, yes. But don't worry. That doesn't mean you're boring. It just means I know you far too well.”
“I'm glad you won't get tired of me.” Mrs. Granger teased.
“Never.” Hermione smiled.
***
The flat was cold when she got there. Hermione had turned off the heat when she'd left the house because she hadn't wanted to waste heat. Shivering, Hermione conjured a blanket, started a fire, and sat down to read her mail. It was nothing but a few things. And a letter from Hogwarts. It seemed simply odd to Hermione that she would get a letter from Hogwarts at the age of 21. As far as she knew, she had no 11 year old child to be hearing about. However, once the letter was open the intent was clear.
Dear Ms. Granger,
You have been invited to a party at Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry. This party is for anyone who fought in the final battle, and therefor you will be seeing many familiar faces. The party will be taking place October 3rd in the great hall. Please RSVP to the Headmistress of the school.
Hermione set the letter down. Her hands were shaking. She somehow didn't want to go to a party that had anything to do with the final battle. However, she felt the need to see faces she hadn't seen in a long time. And hopefully she would be on the arm of Ron. There was no way Lavender Brown was getting within 300 feet of him. That was a promise.
A/N: I do not own Friends, or Harry Potter. I own Rose though- YAY! Hope you enjoyed this. ~writergirl8
Ron had a headache. He'd had one for a week, since Hermione had left the scene of the crime. Or, as Ginny so fondly called it, the Place of Passion. God, he wanted to smack her. It was bad enough that Hermione had run away just when they were about to kiss. It was another thing that Ginny and the whole world had to see it. It wasn't as if Hermione had been discouraging Ron! She'd seemed completely on deck until the bloody camera man had to run out of film. Ron wouldn't have cared if the whole world saw that kiss as long as it got him back together with Hermione. Now everyone probably thought he was trying to take advantage of her when she didn't want to be kissed. He'd have to see the fan mail to see how many people were rooting for him.
He was getting tired of going to Harry and Ginny's house. They were too lovey-dovey, and they barely payed attention to him. Ron suspected that soon they would start calling each other pet names. This he most certainly would not be able to stand. He was not made of stone. Of course, if Hermione called him a pet name he'd probably just wince and leave it alone. Or, ehem, take it like a man. Of course.
Anyway, back to how much he hated visiting Harry and Ginny. He'd come over today out of pure loneliness, because although their old house was nice and big, it was also pretty empty with no one but him in it. Ron wished Hermione were there. They would joke about how gross Harry and Ginny were. Of course, if they were still together Hermione would probably be throwing pointed looks at Ginny's wedding ring.
Ginny had gone to visit Hermione soon after the almost-kiss, but Hermione had been leaving for someplace. Running away, no doubt. Ron would have, too, but if he ran he might run the risk of running into Hermione. Or never seeing her again. What if she came back to make up with him and he wasn't there? The thought was horrific. Then again, Ron wasn't sure if this stunt was the final straw. He couldn't stand Hermione stomping all over him, toying with his emotions, etc cetera, etc cetera. In fact, if she came back to take him back, he might just have to say no.
Okay. Scratch that. There was no way in hell he was going to say no. But he could play hard to get. And the coming up party at Hogwarts presented him with an opportunity to make Hermione jealous with Lavender. Then again, last time he'd tried to make her jealous with Alyssa it hadn't worked out very well. Actually, he wasn't really sure if he'd been trying to make Hermione jealous. He honestly couldn't remember a thing. Unfortunate, because the next day he'd woken up with a hurt cheek, a deadly headache and an unsympathetic best friend.
Why was it that everyone always rooted for the sensitive woman? All the movies he'd seen had been about the woman's feelings, how hurt she was when the man broke up with her, or cheated on her, so on and so forth. Why didn't any script writers ever try to write to story from the point of view of the person who was doing the cheating? Maybe they had a perfectly good reason. Maybe they weren't the bad guys after all! Why was everyone always making the guys seem like the bad guy? Ron thought he would possibly have to contact some big-shot Hollywood producer and ask him why the bloody hell he was trashing the masculine gender. Yes. He would do it next week. Or in a month. Maybe ten years. Or perhaps on his death bed.
The doorbell rang. Harry and Ginny looked up from their little giggle match (“No, you have sexier hair!” “No you do!” “No, no, you totally have sexier hair.” “Do you really think so? 'Cuz your hair is pretty damn sexy.”) to give Ron a pointed look that clearly said, 'We are in the middle of a giggle match. Kindly go get the door or we will disown you as a brother/best friend.' Well, Ron wasn't going to take that. If he wasn't man enough to contact TV producers or keep a woman, at least he could stand up to his bloody little sister.
“You get it, Ginny.” Ron barked. Ginny was so taken aback she got up and went right to the door. A second later Ron heard shrieking. Loud, high pitched shrieking, and someone laughing the most beautiful laugh Ron had ever heard. Ron saw a flash of red hair as Ginny darted across the room and pulled Hermione into the kitchen, where she firmly shut the door behind her. Harry and Ron both sat there, listening to hear anything that resembled a human sound. They stood in complete silence until they heard the tea kettle going off, then Harry shrugged and turned to Ron.
“Fancy playing a game of Quidditch?”
“Sure, mate. Give me one second.” Ron said, inching towards the door.
Harry sighed.
“You're going to spy, aren't you?”
“You can bet your broomstick I am!” Ron said.
“Usually when Ginny participates in girl talk she'll cast mufflaito. However, when she's really excited she forgets.” Harry said helpfully.
Ron inched closer to the door until he could hear Hermione and Ginny chatting happily.
“Any spells?” Harry asked.
“Nope.” Ron said.
“Oh, I'd better cast mufflaito.” Ginny said. Ron heard a scooting of a chair and flattened himself against the wall just time. Then he swore.
“Ron, how bad do you want to hear this conversation?” Harry asked carefully.
“Pretty damn bad.” Ron said.
“Well, if you're sure- because honestly, I think it's a bad idea- I've learned the counter curse for mufflaito. It will remove the charm without Ginny knowing. Are you sure you want to hear?”
“Positive!” Ron said enthusiastically. Harry approached the door and cast the counter curse, then crept quietly away so Ron could eavesdrop in peace.
“So I went to m childhood friend, Rose, and she said 'I think you know already what you want just by being here.'” Hermione was explaining.
“Wise one, that Rose is.” Ginny said, laughing. “Go on.”
“Well, then she told me that I'd never find anyone like Ron again, so I should be with him. Or, at least, that's the condensed version. The truth is, I ran away because almost kissing Ron scared me the most that time because of everything that had happened, and all of our attempts to be friends. But then I realized that we can't be friends, and I love him so much it hurts to not be with him, even when we're together in the same room.”
Ron could almost hear Ginny nod, she was doing it so fast.
“So when are you getting back together with him?” Ginny asked.
“Well... I was hoping to talk to him now. But I don't know how he's going to take it.”
“He'll be thrilled!” Ginny exclaimed. “Harry and I will leave for 4 hours to do an extensive shopping trip and go see a muggle feature. When we come back, you two had better be done snogging.”
“Ginny!” Hermione said, her voice reproving and embarrassed.
“Good Merlin, you know your face turns bright red when anyone mentions snogging.”
“Yes, I know that, Ginny.”
“I'm so happy for you, Hermione. You've finally realized what you wanted.”
“I'm happy, too.” Hermione said softly.
A few seconds later when the two girls burst out of Ginny's kitchen, Ron was seated in an armchair, reading an updated version of Quidditch Through The Ages.
“Hi, Ron.” Hermione said, her voice shy. Ron looked up.
“'Ermione!” he said, using a short version of her name Hermione had told him he muttered in his sleep. He had hoped it would come out casual and offhand. Instead, he sounded a bit drunk. “How are you? What are you doing here?”
“I've come to talk to you.” Hermione said, her head cocked in the most adorable way. Behind Hermione, Ginny was standing there, her eyes open wide, her mouth in a goofy smile, giving Ron two enthusiastic thumbs up. Ron gave her a look, and Ginny folded her hands into little mouths and stuck them together, moving them around to simulate snogging while jumping up and down.
“Are you feeling well, Ginny?” Ron asked. Hermione whipped around. Ginny had stopped jumping and was staring innocently at Hermione.
“Come to think of it, Ginny, your face does look a little flushed.” Hermione said, looking concerned.
“Oh, you're right, I'll have Harry bring me over to the Healer, I feel quite ill. HARRY!”
Hermione and Ron covered their ears as Ginny said Harry's name once more.
“He's outside, Ginny.” Ron managed to say.
“Oh, merlin, must I do everything around here?” Ginny moaned. “HARRY!” she yelled once more, before stomping past Ron and out of the house. After the door had slammed shut behind Ginny, Hermione walked over to the couch and took a tentative seat on it.
“So...” she said. “What are you reading?”
“It's an updated version of Quidditch Through The Ages.” Ron said, not bothering to look at her. Hermione turned bright red for no apparent reason.
“Oh. Really?” she said. “Is that the one I gave you for Christmas last year?”
So much for acting like he didn't care.
“The very one.” Ron said, his tone uninterested.
“I'm surprised you haven't lost that yet.” Hermione said, laughing nervously. “It's rather uncharacteristic, don't you think?”
“Very.” Ron confirmed.
“Listen, Ron, I've been meaning to talk to you about something.” Hermione said.
“Go ahead.” Ron nodded.
“Well, I went home and I visited my mum over the last week-” Hermione started.
“Did you really?” Ron asked, looking up from his book. “How is she, then?”
“She's great,” Hermione said, her features arranged into an adorably confused look. Sweet Merlin. Ron had to stop comparing Hermione to adorableness in his head. It was compromising what he was trying to do.
“That's lovely.” Ron said, returning to his book.
“And I also went to visit my childhood friend, Rose. We talked, and I decided that-”
“Rose? That's a beautiful name, isn't it?” Ron said, looking up once more. “Your face is adorable when you get all flustered, you know.”
DAMN his head. By swearing not to say adorable on the inside, he hadn't meant to say it on the outside, either. He'd meant not to say it at all!
“Oh. Er- thank you, then.” Hermione said. “So, anyway. Rose helped me realize that-”
“Do you fancy some tea?” Ron said, getting up and placing his book on the armchair. Hermione, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, stared at the book until all the pages had flipped to one side and the book had flipped closed. Actually, she looked more like a reindeer caught in headlights. Her face was redder then Rudolph's nose.
“I... I already have tea.” Hermione said, holding up her cup.
“Cucumber sandwiches, then.” Ron said, whistling as he walked into the kitchen. Hermione scampered in nervously behind him and took a seat at the table, drumming her fingers against the tea cup.
Cute, pretty, beautiful, enticing, magical, magnificent, amazing, lovely, breath taking... adorable.
“So, you were saying something?” Ron asked.
“Yes. I was saying that Rose helped me figure out the fact that-”
“Do you want mayonnaise on your sandwich, Hermione?”
“Please. Anyway, Rose helped-”
“Would you like it toasted?”
“Yes, yes, that's fine.” Hermione was starting to get flrustrated “AS I WAS SAYING-”
“Come and get it!” Ron sang.
“RONALD WEASLEY! STOP INTERRUPTING ME!” Hermione yelled.
“Sorry.” Ron said. He conjured a white flag with his wand and threw it onto the floor.
"So, anyways-"
"Hey, your sandwich is ready! Come get it!"
“Fine.” Hermione said, getting up to go get her sandwich. Ron held it above his head so Hermione couldn't reach it. “Ronald!” Hermione said, her voice warning him. She placed her hands on her hips and stuck her bottom lip out. Then Ron leaned down and acted like he was about to kiss her. Their bodies were touching, Hermione was leaning on him. He could smell the delicious scent of tea coming off of her breath.
Cute, pretty, beautiful, enticing, magical, magnificent, amazing, lovely, breath taking, adorable, delicious.
The clock struck two.
“Oh, two o'clock already?” Ron asked, walking away from Hermione. She fell onto the floor. “Time for my afternoon date with the Cannons.”
He sat in the armchair and turned on the wireless. He tried to engross himself in the game (Cute, pretty, beautiful, enticing, magical, magnificent, amazing, lovley breath taking, adorable, delicious, engrossing.) but he suddenly heard sobs. With a pang, Ron realized that he had gone too far. He turned off the wireless and started into the kitchen, but a loud crack announced to him that Hermione was already gone. Ron sighed dejectedly and sat back down in the chair.
The movie script writers were damn right.
A/N: *Hides from angry readers* Hey, guys. Yeah, I kept them apart again. Sorry! I thought I'd give you a hint about the next chapter, so that you wouldn't be too mad. Ehem. Something huge happens. There's a Hogwarts party. And there's a special room that means a lot to Ron and Hermione... hints completed. If you have a guess, tell me in a review! If you hate me, tell me in a review! But be nice about your hatred hey, you can also tell me you love me! By the way, I have a new Ron/Hermione novella called 'On The Edge of Insanity', so I'll be putting chapters in of that, then this... so it will be an every other chapter thing, validation wise. If that makes any sense. ~writergirl8
Ginny had arrived home the night before with a large smile on her face, clutching Harry's arm. Her smile slid as soon as she saw Ron.
“What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with Hermione.” Ginny said.
“Oh. About that.” Ron started
Ginny held up a hand to stop him.
“Don't tell me. I don't want to know, because then I will not get enough beauty sleep and I will be exhausted for the party and will have dark, unbecoming circles under my eyes.”
Ron half expected Harry to say that Ginny could never be unbecoming, but, to the bloke's credit he apparently knew how and when to keep his mouth shut.
“Ron, I want you to leave my house and go to my other house that you are staying in, and I want you to stay away from Hermione for now, okay? I'll go over there in the morning and try to make you sound good.”
“Stay away from Hermione?” Ron said, frowning. “I was actually planning on-”
“Stay away from her or I will cast a spell on you that makes riding on a broomstick really uncomfortable.
“Hermione who?” Ron asked, backing out of the house. Ginny sighed and walked into the kitchen to get some warm milk before she went to bed.
“Harry, what's this white flag doing on the floor?” she called a few seconds later.
***
“You know, it's kind of hard to believe Ron would do that.” Ginny said, handing Hermione another tissue. “He loves you.”
“No he doesn't!” Hermione wailed. “He doesn't love me!”
“Yes he does, Hermione, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!” Ginny said forcefully. She got up and walked over to Hermione's closet. “I bought you a dress for the party at Hogwarts as soon as I heard about it. I dropped it off here when you weren't home, of course, but you obviously haven't noticed it yet because you just got back.”
“Ginny, I highly doubt fashion is going to make everything better.”
“No, but it might.” Ginny said. She buried herself into Hermione's closet and emerged with a pair of gladiator style stilettos and a scarily short black dress. “You don't oppose to high heels and short black dresses, do you, Hermione?”
“Very funny.” Hermione said.
“Well do you have anything else?” Ginny asked.
“No.” Hermione admitted.
“Good. Anyway, between the dress and the shoes Ron will be going crazy. He has a thing for your legs, for some reason.” Ginny shook her head. “Apparently you have good legs.”
“Yes. Courtesy of having to wear a Hogwarts skirt, my legs have been good from the start.” Hermione said in spite of herself.
“We're going to make sure you knock Ron's socks off at this party so he'll be on his knees for you.” Ginny announced.
“Just don't turn me into a clone copy of you.” Hermione urged. “I don't want to be unrecognizable.”
“I'm not making any promises.”
***
Ron had wandered over to 'Sweet Wizarding Studios' in order to keep himself away from Hermione. He was going to read the fan mail and see what everyone thought of him. And Hermione. And him and Hermione. Were the fans rooting for him and Hermione, or did they not want them together? Did they think he was a bag egg, and Hermione was a good one? Ron didn't know why he was setting so much store by people he barely knew, but somehow it seemed important to him.
First, Ron peeked into the studio. Colin Love was in front of a live audience, beaming down at a blond woman and a brown-haired man who were holding two blond babies. They didn't seem nearly as sweet as Nancy and Cam. Next, Ron went to the secretary for The Perfect Match. She had bleached blond hair and a valley girl voice complete with an American accent.
“Omigod, I, like, totally can't believe he said that to you!” she trilled to whoever she was talking to on the phone. Ron's mouth dropped open when he realized that she was talking on the phone and painting her nails at the same time. Who knew blond valley girl secretaries could be so talented? The girl hadn't chipped a nail yet.
“Ehem.” Ron said.
“One sec, Trish.” the secretary said, rolling her eyes and turning to face Ron. “Um, like, what do you want?”
Then she saw Ron and her eyes moved up and down.
“Hello.” she said again. “What can I do for you, sweetie pie?”
“Can I see the fan letters for Ron Weasley on The Perfect Match?” Ron asked after clearing his throat.
“Sure thing.” the girl beamed. She started shuffling through papers then looked up at Ron sympathetically. “Ummmm, like, We've had orders not to give them to him.”
Ron sighed impatiently.
“I gave those orders. I did not want them delivered to my dressing room. But now I'm here and I want to see my love/hate mail!”
“Okay, fine!” the girl said, pouting as she handed Ron the letters. Then she picked up the phone again. “I'm back, Trish! Did you miss me? Omigod, yeah! I, like, totally missed you too! But, like, guess what! This totally hot red-head just came to my desk! Yah, I knoooowwwww, I usually hate red heads too! But, omigod, you should have seen his muscles!”
It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes now. He turned around and walked to his dressing room, then seated himself on the leather couch and started to read the fan letters. He stayed there for an hour, reading them and laughing with joy.
Dear Ron-You and Hermione belong together! You're so perfect it's not even funny. YOU NEED TO GET BACK TOGETHER NOW.
Dear Ron- Don't get discouraged! You can tell Hermione loves you, you just have to be patient and as loving as you possibly can be.
Dear Ron- You're so hot! Would you mind randomly taking your shirt off again on one of the dates? Thanks a bunch!
Okay- the last one was a bit ridiculous. And he most certainly would not be taking his shirt off. But the sentiment was nice.
***
“I'm not sure about this.” Hermione whispered to Ginny as they dithered on the outside of the Great Hall. “There are teachers here!”
“Don't worry, you look so trashy I'm sure they won't recognize you.” Ginny assured Hermione.
“Nice.” Harry said, laughing. Hermione shot him a look.
“Sorry, Hermione. You do look kind of trashy.”
Ginny shot him another look.
“In a beautiful way!” Harry added hastily. “You look beautifully trashy.”
“That's it!” Hermione said, turning around. “I'm going home and changing into a habit.”
“Hermione, if you want to look like a nun just wear a loose turtleneck.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
“You look beautiful, Hermione.” Harry assured her, smiling. “You just look more like Lavender then Hermione at the moment.”
“Fine.” Hermione sighed, turning again towards the ball room. “But if I fall in these heels, Ginny, I'm taking you down with me.”
“You'd better not!” Ginny cried, looking worried for the first time. “This is my first public event as Mrs. Harry Potter! If you ruin it I swear to merlin I'll kill you.”
“What number is that?” Hermione asked turning to Harry.
“23.” Harry replied.
“Right. Ginny, you've said that 23 times.”
“So?” Ginny asked, unconcerned again. “Oh, look. Neville! I haven't seen him in a while. He's teaching Herbology now... dating Hannah Abbott, isn't he?”
“He always did have a way with plants.” Harry admitted. Ginny hurried into the Great Hall, and Harry followed behind her.
Hermione took a deep breath and entered the great hall. It felt like everyone was looking at her. She swallowed hard, until she heard the first whisper.
“Who's that?” someone asked.
“Dunno. She kind of looks like a sexy version of Hermione Granger.” another voice replied.
“Nah... too much cleavage.”
Hermione turned bright red and walked into the hall, cursing herself for letting Ginny dress her. After standing there awkwardly for a few moments, she walked over to Luna Lovegood. Then Lavender Brown. Then Ernie Macmillan. The whole night passed and she didn't talk to Ron at all. But she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head as she chatted to her different friends. Finally, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She was getting what Ginny used to call 'Ron-Withdrawal' Her eyes found Ron and she automatically walked over him.
“Er- hi.” Ron said. “I'm Ron Weasley. Nice to meet you... do I know you? You look extremely familiar. You kind of look like Hermione except she'd never wear heels that high.”
“Ron, it's me you nitwit.”
“Sorry, Mione. I had to do that. You look... amazing.”
“I look like trash.” Hermione said.
“Well, yes, you do, but that's okay.” Ron said, grinning. Hermione buried her face in her hands. “Really, you look unbelievable.”
And so she did, in his (male) opinion. She was wearing a tight black dress, high stiletto heels that made her just as tall as Ron, and a simple diamond necklace. Her hair was pin straight and hanging a little above her elbows. It seemed that Ginny had given her blond highlights. Hermione was also wearing long diamond earrings that gave her face a look of elegance and maturity Ron had never seen before. As if the earrings weren't enough, she was wearing eyeliner, mascara and a shade of bright red lipstick smothered in lip gloss.
“Yes, well, Ginny always did say that wonder bras will do wonders.” Hermione said without thinking.
Ron's eyes instinctively wandered below Hermione's neck, and he forced himself to look up as someone joined them.
“Everyone's saying that you're Hermione Granger, but you don't look a bit like her.” said a voice, and Hermione turned around to see Pavarti Patil beaming from ear to ear. “I knew it was you, though, because Ron keeps looking at your legs.” she added, and Ron guiltily looked up. “You always were a sucker for Hermione's legs.”
“Wow, Pavarti, I'd forgotten how observant you were.” Hermione said.
“That's me.” Pavarti said. “Hey, Ron, I think Lavender Brown is looking for you. Something about closure... be prepared, I think she wants a snog.”
“Gee, thanks, Pavarti.” Ron said. “Now that I know I actually have to go.”
“She's in the broom cupboard!” Pavarti called after Ron as he left.
“Really?” Hermione asked, arching a freshly waxed eyebrow.
“Nope. I just wanted to talk to you, and I couldn't with him here. So how are you? I've seen you on the game show, it seems that you and Ron are really in love.”
“Not really.” Hermione said. “I mean, I love him, but I don't think he loves me, and... oh, it's a long story.”
“I have time.” Pavarti said. “It's just... the way he looks at you. Even the way he was looking at you a few seconds ago, once he had torn his eyes away from your legs.”
“Oh, yeah, Ron always loved Hermione's legs.” Luna agreed, joining the conversation.
“How come everyone notices everything but me?” Hermione asked indignantly.
“You're blinded by love.” Ginny shrugged. “Don't worry, so is Ron.”
“Don't you agree that you can tell he loves her just by the way he looks at her?” Pavarti asked.
“Oh, definitely!” Ginny exclaimed.
“He just gets this look.” Lavender nodded.
“It kind of resembles what one looks like when a nargle infests their brain, except more gentle.” Luna agreed.
And it was that comment that set Hermione over the edge. The other girls kept on talking about Ron and Hermione until she started walking away.
“Hermione? Where are you going?” Lavender asked.
“Excuse me.” Hermione murmured. She walked quickly out of the great hall and into the entrance hall. And somehow she knew exactly where he'd be.
***
In spite of the huge fire during the final battle, the Room of Requirement remained completely unchanged. Hermione had walked down the corridor at a quick pace, trying not to wince at her high heels. It was only when she had gotten there that she started to doubt whether or not the room might work after the huge fire. Maybe she was wrong. Ron didn't seem to be anywhere in this hallway, and it was possible that he might have gone somewhere else. Like the Quidditch Pitch, perhaps, or the Gryffindor Common Room. But Hermione paced the corridor three times, saying in her head I need to find Ron. I need to find Ron. And when she opened her eyes, the door was there. So she opened it, hoping that she was about to see what she thought she was about to see.
It was exactly the same as it had been the day she'd gotten her first kiss from Ron. Everything was strewn throughout the place, and, in the years that had passed, the fires had all gone out. In fact, as far as the Room of Requirement went, it seemed as if the Final Battle may never have happened. Hermione, of course, knew better. This was where half her life had ended and another half had started. Or maybe her life was in quarters. Or perhaps chapters... in any case, what happened in this room seven years ago had changed everything, and something in her gut was telling her that what happened in this room tonight was going to change everything, too.
Somehow, she knew exactly where to go. She wandered the aisle as if it had only been yesterday that she'd been in this room searching for the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. Her feet expertly wound around the corridors, and suddenly she was there. She saw his shoes first, as she had been looking at the ground as she walked. Then she saw his legs, and his back, and his neck, and his fiery red head that she loved so much. And she was brought back. Brought back to her first kiss with Ron, and how she'd felt, and what she'd been thinking, and just how much she loved him and needed him, and that was what made her walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder.
He whirled around, surprised. Obviously he hadn't heard her coming, he'd been too wrapped up in the memories that she'd been wrapped up in a few moments ago. The look on his face shocked her. He looked so sad and weak, and she suddenly felt angry at herself for making the memory of that kiss be that way for him. Suddenly, Hermione was unable to look at him. So she started walking up and down a small area of the room, shockingly confident in spite of her neck breaking heels. Ron simply watched her, at a loss for what to say. Hermione started talking first.
“This is the place.” she said.
Ron nodded, bent down and picked something up, then handed it to her. Hermione looked at it, and she felt a jolt in her stomach. It was left over from all these years. They must have forgotten to pick it up, missed it in their search... and she looked at Ron, directly in the eyes.
“Well, I hope you'll be the one to kiss me this time.” she said.
“What?” Ron asked, frowning.
“You're so cute when you're confused.” Hermione whispered, and Ron's expression grew less shocked and more confused. Hermione never spoke to him like that. He looked at her, his eyes asking a question. “I was merely suggesting that, as the person who instigated the kiss that began our relationship last time, I think it should be you this time. After all, do you really want to have to tell our children that I riskily kissed you twice? They'll think their dad has absolutely no guts whatsoever.”
“What... what are you saying?” Ron asked, his face twisted into so many variations of confusion Hermione couldn't help feeling a little sorry for making him feel this way.
“I'm saying, Ron,” Hermione said, stepping closer to him and staring into his gorgeous eyes. “I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. And... kiss me?”
His mouth fell open slightly, and he stared at her, not confused anymore, but with what could only be described as desire. And then he put one hand on each of her cheeks and kissed her.
There was a clatter of the basalisk fang as Hermione Granger threw it to the floor and wrapped her arms securely around Ron Weasley's neck. He wound his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air with his enthusiasm. Hermione responded by pressing herself against him and deepening the kiss that so paralleled the one they had shared in this room before. She melted into him, finally letting her guard down, finally letting him in, finally knowing that she was doing the thing she was meant to be doing by kissing her favorite person in the world.
Finally.
Although Hermione was lighter then air for the next few days, she was sure to keep herself sullen and grumpy around Ginny. That was the first thing she'd told Ron after they'd re-established their relationship actually.
"We're not telling Ginny."
Ron and Hermione had decided to keep their relationship a secret for a while, and they had even taken the time to set up a cover story for everyone else around them so they both had the same story. That night, Hermione had supposedly seen Lavender Brown kissing someone in the library, where she'd gone for old times sake. Hermione said that she hadn't checked to see who it was, but had turned and ran out of the library. Ron's story was that he had been around the castle, trying to avoid Lavender. This was pretty much the truth, actually, so the only real lying going on was Hermione's.
Ginny was absolutely murderous at the sudden change of events. Hermione had wanted to be with Ron so badly before, and all of the sudden she'd completely changed her mind again. She was so furious she forgot to look for the subtle glances from the pair, which was her mistake. If Ginny had been any less ruffled, she would have guessed the fact that Ron and Hermione were together in ten seconds. This Hermione was grateful for. She wanted her relationship with Ron to be as secretive as possible for now. In fact, the only one who knew beside Hermione and Ron was Rose. Hermione had owled her almost as soon as she'd gotten home from Hogwarts, and Rose had obviously been thrilled about the whole thing. Still, Rose was far away, and she was too nice to put any relationship pressure on Hermione. Which, to be quite frank, was what Hermione was trying to avoid. Before, when she'd been with Ron, her mum and dad and Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley and Harry and Ginny had all been talking about marriage.
“Ron!” Mrs. Weasley had said one day. “You're twenty one. Surely you should start thinking about marriage?”
Well, now they were twenty three and it was about to get a whole lot worse.
Hermione didn't have a problem with marriage. In fact, she kind of appreciated it whenever someone brought it up. Ron turned the most adorable shade of red whenever anyone mentioned it. Besides, Hermione wanted to get married as much as the next girl. But right now, she needed to make sure that Ron had changed. And with Ginny and Harry and Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley and Hermione's parents all talking about marriage and babies, she wouldn't be able to do this as thoroughly as she'd have liked.
Still, there was another part of Hermione, a more dangerous, rebellious part, that wanted this relationship quiet just for the fun of it. She wanted the danger, because she knew that if she and Ron were discovered it wouldn't be a big deal. Everyone would be happy for them. And of course, a huge part of Hermione wanted to run to Ginny and scream with her about how happy she was with Ron. But Hermione wasn't going to do that. She had survived being tortured for information by Bellatrix Lestrange. She could do anything.
Besides, being tortured had brought her closer to Ron. This couldn't hurt, right?
***
Ron was over the moon. Honestly, he couldn't remember a time when he was happier. The night before, he'd gone to see a movie at Hermione's house. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, and he'd spent the whole night awake, sniffing. Her hair smelled just as amazing as ever. It was as though nothing had changed. She'd woken up that morning with her hair stuck to the side of her face and her eyes slightly red, but Ron looked at it endearingly. He wasn't sure of the last time he'd seen her like that in the morning, and he savored it.
Of course, besides the corny stuff, there was also the snogging. To be quite frank, when Ron and Hermione had been broken up, they'd still been speaking for the second half. So it wasn't each other they'd really missed. It, honestly, was more like the snogging. Ron knew it wasn't just him, because Hermione seemed to be wanting to kiss him whenever she possibly could. And he was positive that their horniness had to be attributed to the absence of snogging. Ron knew, though, that this was not uncommon. He'd once heard his parents describe a friendly break up to Ginny after she'd had some trouble with Harry.
“When your father and I broke up, we decided to be just friends.” Mrs. Weasley had said gently.
“The thing was, we didn't really miss each other in the chatting sense. We saw each other nearly everyday.” Mr. Weasley told Ginny.
“What was it? The sexual tension?” Ginny had said, obviously sarcastic.
“Well, yes.” Mrs. Weasley told her daughter.
So Ron gathered that this was either a human thing, or the Weasleys had some very messed up hormones.
Ron and Hermione hadn't been on a date since they'd gotten together. They'd been hanging out at the other's house, doing a lot of laughing and talking and snogging and soaking in the other's presence in a way that they hadn't in a while. And every time Ron saw Hermione take in a deep, satisfied breath he got a warm, happy feeling in his heart. The worst part of being in love, Ron decided, was how campy even his thoughts sounded. He wanted to rip his brain out and get a new one. But then, he supposed, he would have the wrong memories. And he wanted to remember everything he had learned over his twenty three years. So he would keep his brain, then.
Then again, was there something wrong with being corny if it meant he was happy? Ron had noticed that the happier he was the more sticky-sweet his thoughts became. They also became more horny then he'd care to admit, but that wasn't a huge factor. He was used to that by now, and it barely bothered him. Okay, so sometimes his thoughts could be a bit crass. He was a guy, for the love of merlin. They were supposed to be. Ron was about to make a mental note to ask Harry about this, but then realized that if he did the secret was sure to be revealed.
His secret. The fact that he was with Hermione. If it meant loosing her, Ron would take it to the grave. But he didn't want to. In fact, he had some very large plans for the near future that would involve a beautiful white dress and a couple of witnesses. But not right now. Right now, Ron was working on proving himself to Hermione again. He was trying to become the perfect boyfriend, and he was going to do his best to maintain it. Forever, if he had to. From all his disturbing dreams and loneliness, Ron had realized that being without Hermione was ten times more trouble then it was worth. He was in love with her, and he couldn't do anything about that. Besides, there was nothing wrong with Hermione. It was all him.
Okay. So Ron didn't blame himself for Hermione not pausing for an explanation when he'd been kissing Alyssa. But, really, he shouldn't have been kissing her in the first place. And Ron didn't blame himself for the fact that Hermione was a neat freak. But he did blame himself for the fact that he completely disrespected her home. Okay, so it was his home too. But Ron had learned that to be in a relationship you had to compromise. And he was going to do his damnedest to keep everything in that flat clean. He had realized that, if he did that, he could start picking out the picket fence.
***
Hermione was sleeping. She was lying on her couch, fully dressed, one hand clutching her wand, one hand strewn carelessly over the back of the couch. Her television was on, but she obviously wasn't watching it. She instead was smiling in her sleep, and it became apparent that her dream was much better then any television show could ever be.
Ron smiled down at her sleeping form and dropped the paper bag he was carrying onto the kitchen table. He had been sent by Ginny to try to kiss up to Hermione, because she was still completely under the impression that they couldn't stand the sight of each other. This, however, wasn't true. Which was why Ron drew up a chair by the couch and watched Hermione sleep. She looked so beautiful, her hair spread out haphazardly. Ron was about to get up and go to the kitchen to check the kettle he'd set on the stove when he'd come in when he heard it.
“Ron.” Hermione muttered. Ron tiptoed back toward the couch, but Hermione's eyes were still firmly closed. She was muttering his name in her sleep. Ron couldn't help putting on a satisfied smirk as he stared down at her face. She'd definitely gotten more beautiful as time went on. He missed the baby-like quality he'd grown up with, but he completely appreciated what she looked like now.
Was it possible to love someone more because of their imperfections? Ron thought back to the riddle-Hermione that had come out of the locket. She had been terrible and beautiful at the same time. Beautiful, just because she was, but terrifying because she was so perfect. Ron didn't think he could live with a Hermione that was absolutely perfect. Her faults, to him, were endearing, and whenever he recognized one he realized that this was just a sign of how well he knew her. Mind you, there was a difference between perfect in general and perfect for him. Hermione was perfect for him.
“Ron?”
This was a question, not a mutter. Ron blinked to see Hermione wide awake and sitting up. He smiled at her as he noticed she had a piece of hair sticking to to side of her mouth.
“Hi.” he said. “Er- did I wake you?”
“Oh, no. That would be the tea-kettle sounding in the kitchen. It's about as quiet as a gun.”
“A what?”
“Oh, it's a sort of wand that's only used for... never mind.” She stood up and went to the kitchen to stop the tea kettle. “Could you get two cups, Ron?”
Ron reached into the cupboard and grabbed two tea cups. Hermione filled them and handed one to Ron, then took a long sip. She let out a peaceful sigh.
“Thank merlin. I haven't slept that peacefully since we broke up.”
She turned red at how blatant this sentence was, and tried to distract Ron by pointing to the paper bag.
“What's that?”
“Don't I get a hello kiss first?” Ron asked, raising his arms hopefully. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Tell me what's in the bag first.” she said.
“Okay.” Ron said. Hermione turned towards the bag, and he grabbed her around the waist, turned her around and kissed her. When they broke apart it became apparent that Hermione had been holding in her laughter the whole kiss, and Ron tried not to smirk.
“Okay- what's in the bag?” Hermione asked, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently. Ron grinned and walked over to the bag. He pulled out a long, rectangle shaped package and whirled it around.
“What the hell is that?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide. Ron's smile diminished.
“It's a Harry Potter board game!” he said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Um- excuse me?” Hermione said, eying the pictures of both her and Ron flanking either side of Harry. She noticed that his head was much bigger then either of theirs. Hermione walked over to the game and took it from Ron, staring at it. “They made a board game?”
“Well, they've made a few.” Ron admitted. “But this was the only one that wasn't like 'Kill Voldemort and snog Ginny Weasley!' This one just had the Voldemort part on it.”
“So are we going to play?” Hermione asked uncertainly.
“Hell yeah!” Ron answered, much more enthusiastic then his girlfriend.
“I don't know... what if there's something about us on there? Won't that be a bit awkward?”
“Hermione, really? How old are you? Don't you think you can handle a board game about your life?”
“Um, no.” Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know, I know exactly what places you are ticklish in.” Ron said casually.
“Fine!” Hermione said, grabbing the game and tearing the plastic off.
The settled into chairs and pulled out the game board.
“Let's see... it says here that you're supposed to pick Harry, you or me, and then you're supposed to make the exact same choices that they- we- did in order to defeat Lord Voldemort.”
“Can I be you?” Ron asked excitedly.
Hermione glared at him.
“Fine, fine, I'll be Harry.” Ron said, sighing heavily.
***
“Congratulations, Hermione, that's wonderful,” her mother said for the eighteenth time, walking her to the door. “I know you two will be very happy together. And I'm sure this is it. You know, the last time you'll break up.”
“I hope so,” Hermione said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Sorry to leave so quickly... I beat Ron at a Harry Potter board game, so he has to make me dinner, and I don't want to be late.”
“Fair enough,” Mrs. Granger said, laughing. “Have fun!”
“Will do,” Hermione said, waving as her mother shut the door. She headed to the edge of the lane, looking for a place to apparate. And that was when she remembered. Quickly, she turned around and ran back along the houses, looking for the correct one. She tiptoed up the steps and knocked loudly on the door. There was a shout from inside, and suddenly the door swung open, showing a hassled looking Rose. Behind her, Mike was chasing Polly around, and the little girl was giggling and screaming. Rose had evidentially been trying to get them to stop, in fear that one of them would slip and hit their head.
“Hermione!” Rose said breathlessly. “Hi! How are you? What brings you here?”
Hermione smiled.
“Hi yourself. I'm great, actually. I just have some news for you.”
“Oh! Come on in,” Rose said, moving away from the door to let Hermione through. Mike and Polly stared at Hermione as she made her way into the house.
“Hey- you're that lady!” Mike said, and Hermione chuckled, while Rose chided her son.
“Michael, don't be rude! Her name is Ms. Granger.”
“Like Mrs. Granger down the street?” Mike asked, and Rose nodded.
“Exactly like that. Mike, why don't you and Polly go find daddy? He'll let you play with the bunny.”
Mike took Polly's hand and led her away. Rose collapsed onto the couch, looking exhausted, and motioned for Hermione to sit in the chair across from her.
“Dan's been researching his family background all day, trying to see if he can find any members that might have been wizards.”
“Has he got anything?” Hermione asked, and Rose shook her head.
“So far, no. But I've been taking care of the kids all day, and Saturdays are usually my day off.”
“Sorry,” Hermione said, grimacing sympathetically.
“I can't complain. I love them dearly. Sometimes, though, they just drive me up the wall,” Rose laughed. “So what did you want me to talk to you about?”
“Oh... well, it happened.”
“Er- what happened?”
“Ron and I. We got back together.”
“Hermione! That's great!” Rose said, now looking much more awake. She clapped her hands. “I have to meet him! Maybe we could all go out to dinner sometime?”
“Actually, no. Not quite yet. I'm making him keep it a secret... for now, at least. Hopefully, we'll be able to tell everyone very soon. I just don't want to... for several reasons.”
“I understand,” Rose said, looking disappointed. “It's just annoying not to have anyone to visualize whenever you talk about him. I keep on picturing that red-headed guy on that doctor show... what's it called? Something about anatomy...”
“I have a picture, if you want to see it,” Hermione said tentatively, and Rose nodded. Hermione reached into her purse, took one out, and showed it to Rose.
“Oh my god!” Rose cried, looking at it.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“It moves!”
“Oh! Yeah,” Hermione said, giggling. “Sorry, I forgot you weren't used to that stuff.”
“It's okay. Wow, he's not to shabby. You carry a picture of him in your purse, Hermione? Really?” Rose teased.
“No, I don't. Not usually. I was just bringing it to show my mum,” Hermione told her, laughing.
“Sure you were,” Rose smirked.
“Well you should have done the impedimentia charm. Remember, the one that Harry found in 4th year.”
“I know. But he was moving too fast and I was afraid that I would hit one of the people on my own team.”
Hermione sighed and drummed her fingers against her tea cup. Bellatrix Lestrange's husband was almost the last Death Eater that remained on the loose. Ron was in charge of catching him, while Harry had applied for a 6 month long desk job so he could be with Ginny as much as he could for their first few months of marriage. Ron had just gotten back from a 24 hour assignment, and he was exhausted, but had come immediately to Hermione's house.
“What curses did you use, then?” she asked.
“Well, I used a lot of stunning, and a bit of disarming. But I couldn't even consider sending a killing curse. Like I said, there were too many of us and only one of him. I don't know what spell he used, but it was making him untouchable. When we tried to grab him, our fingers kept slipping through him.”
“Maybe you should let me come-” Hermione started, but Ron shook his head.
“It's way too dangerous.”
“I will remind you, Ron, that just because I didn't choose to become an auror does not mean I can't handle danger.”
“It's actually not you I'm worried about,” Ron admitted. “I'd be awfully distracted by you.”
“Hmmm.” Hermione said, but the corners of her mouth were quirking up. “Kiss ass.” she muttered under her breath when Ron got up to go to the kitchen.
“I heard that.” Ron called over his shoulder. Hermione smiled and shook her head. She was far, far too happy. So happy she'd even agreed to order Chinese food while she and Ron watched their favorite muggle TV show about a geek-turned-spy. Ron came over every Monday night to watch it with her. Although Hermione much preferred more life-based shows, she didn't mind watching the main character of the TV show kick bad guy butt.
The doorbell rang, and Hermione jumped up to get it, figuring it was the Chinese take-out. She licked her lips, already anticipating Crab Rangoon and her favorite chicken and broccoli dish. She flung open the door and was greeted with a large surprise. Ginny was standing there, holding a large dress bag.
“Ginny!” Hermione managed to say, her voice shocked. A few seconds later, she realized what she needed to do. “GINNY!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. From the kitchen, she heard something smash, but she tried not to flinch.
“Er- yes. That would be my name.” Ginny said, stepping around Hermione and into her house. “I brought you some soup. Let me just go drop it off in your kitchen before I tell you about the date.”
“NO!” Hermione screamed. “NO! DON'T GO IN THERE!”
Ginny turned around, looking surprised.
“Well why not?” she asked.
“Umm... I made salmon this morning. Terrible smell.”
“I see.” Ginny said. “Well, then, I'll set this in the living room.”
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. This would at least give Ron a chance to sneak safely into Hermione's room and out of Ginny's way. Hermione followed Ginny into the living room.
“So... how long are you planning on staying?” Hermione asked.
“Where?” Ginny asked, confused.
“Um... here.”
“At your house?”
“Yeah.”
Ginny eyed Hermione suspiciously.
“You seem awfully keen on getting rid of me.”
“I... I'm watching this really good movie.” Hermione said.
“Oh. Can I stay and watch it with you?”
“NO!”
“Why not?” Ginny cried.
“Because... you'd hate it.”
“But I thought you said it's good!”
“For me, yeah. But for you it would be boring.”
Ginny sighed and dropped the dress bag onto the couch.
“There are two in there. One for George and Angelina's wedding and the other for the next date. The shorter one is for the wedding.”
“What's the date?” Hermione asked curiously.
“Not sure. We'll see.” Ginny answered vaugly.
“Oh.” Hermione said, gulping.
“Go try them on!” Ginny said impatiently. She started walking over to Hermione's bedroom. Hermione bit her lip. Ron was in there. They were going to be discovered. It had been fun... but now it was over.
Ginny pushed the door open. No Ron. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and took the dresses from Ginny.
“I'll go change into these in the closet.” She said, and Ginny nodded, already over at Hermione's make-up table, surveying her new eyeshadow collection. Hermione hurried into the closet and closed the door, then flipped the switch on. Ron was in there, his hand on a drawer. He looked up when she came in.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Ron grinned.
“It is an unlikely place, isn't it?” Hermione whispered. Ron started to pull the drawer open. “DON'T OPEN THAT!” Hermione hissed. Ron froze.
“Why not?” he asked, taken aback.
“Because. It's where I stow my... delicates.”
Ron seemed to understand what she was saying immediately and hurried to close to drawer.
“And you know the big white box under there that you were about to go look in?” Hermione asked, already predicting Ron's next move.
“Er- yeah...?”
“Don't.”
“How are the dresses?” Ginny called from Hermione's bedroom.
“Er- I haven't seen them yet.”
“I'd ask why, but I'm starting to get pretty sick of the word.”
“I'll open them right now.”
Hermione unzipped the bag and pulled out a beautiful dress. It was made from floaty material with satin lining and satin straps. There was a red, chiffon wrap that was supposed to go around Hermione's arms that was also lined in a red satin.
“The red dress is beautiful, Ginny!” Hermione called, slapping Ron's hand as he once again reached for the delicates drawer.
“Try it on, Hermione. Now.”
Ginny sounded so ticked off Hermione immediately started to take off her shirt. Then she remembered Ron was there. She cleared her throat, and he looked up.
“What?” Ron asked.
“Would you mind... I think you're going to have to turn around.”
Ron rolled his eyes.
“Really, Hermione? How old did we say we were?”
“Shut it, Ron. Turn around.”
“Like I haven't seen it all before.” Ron snorted, turning around.
“Fine then!” Hermione said angrily. “Do whatever you want!”
She turned slightly sideways so she wasn't facing directly at Ron and took her shirt off. She slid the dress on before taking her pants off.
“Nice tactic,” Ron smirked, “Now let's see if we can graduate to a 6th year.”
“If you'll remember, Ronald, it was you that was getting all the action in sixth year.” Hermione snapped, gathering her hair and twisting it into a sloppy bun. She turned to face Ron. “Well?”
He was grinning at her, grinning so widely Hermione was slightly worried about his face. And his sanity.
“You're absolutely gorgeous.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Now it's time I get an honest opinion, Ron.”
Instead of arguing his point, Ron went in for a snog. Hermione allowed this for about 10 seconds before she slapped his arm.
“We don't want to tear the dress.” she said, smoothing it.
“What do you mean?” Ron asked.
“Well, if I remember correctly, usually when we snog you get a little over-excited.”
Payback.
Ron, of course, turned red, and Hermione tried not to look smug. She turned to the door and left the closet.
“Finally.” Ginny said. “What's up with the smug look?”
Hermione immediately sobered, and Ginny shook her head.
“You're hiding something from me. What is it? Do you have a life size replica of Ron in your closet that you throw darts at?”
“No. Do you have one of Harry?”
Ginny furrowed her brow.
“This isn't about me. And you look gorgeous.” she added.
“Ah. You do have one. Except you also snog it when Harry isn't home.”
“When did you get so cocky?” Ginny asked, looking disgusted. “You're acting really protective of yourself... you're hiding something. I know it. You're dating, aren't you?”
“What?!” Hermione cried. “No!”
“Well then what the hell is it?”
“Nothing!”
“So then you won't have a problem if I set you up on a blind date.”
“A blind...what?”
“There's this really nice lawyer I know and I think you'd really like him!” Ginny said, suddenly excited.
“I... no!”
Ginny threw her hands up into the air and glared at Hermione.
“You don't want my brother, you don't want anyone else. What is UP?”
“I'm...um... becoming a nun.”
Oh good grief.
“A nun.” Ginny said blankly. “Bull.”
“Let's see the next dress!” Hermione cried.
“Fine. But we're so not done here.” Ginny told her.
“Okay.” Hermione said, dashing back to the closet. She closed the door and sunk to the ground. “Uhg.”
“You okay?” Ron asked, concerned.
“Yeah. I just hate lying to her. And she's good, too.”
“It was your idea.” Ron said, slightly complacently.
“I know. And I want to keep it up. But it has its drawbacks.”
“Yeah.” Ron agreed. He handed Hermione the next dress. Ginny deemed this dress, too, perfect, so Hermione hung both in her closet and changed back into her regular clothes.
“Will you be going now?” Hermione asked slightly impatiently.
“Is this because of our fight earlier? Because I'm sorry!” Ginny exclaimed as she was pushed towards the door.
“No. It's not.” Hermione said, swinging it open.
“Oh. Well, then, I'd like you to know that I am going to make you go on a blind date after the date after the date after the next date. Got it?”
“Wait- no... Ginny!” Hermione called, sounding slightly panicked. But Ginny was already gone. Hermione sighed, closed the door, and slumped onto the couch. In a few seconds, Ron joined her. He began to massage her shoulders, and Hermione leaned back into him. She sighed, her eyes closed at her boyfriend's touch.
“So,” Ron said after a few moments of this. “A date, eh?”
“You know I don't want to, Ron.”
“I know,” Ron said softly. “I just hate to think of-”
He paused for a moment, as if rethinking what he was about to say.
“Do you think we could tell everyone about us before Ginny sets you up?”
“That doesn't give us very much time.” Hermione sighed.
“You're right. Never mind.” Ron said quickly. He hated that sigh, so dejected and frustrated.
“I'm in love with you, Ron. No one else. And I daresay I never will be.”
She thought about how easy it was, just then, for her to tell Ron that she was in love with him. A few years ago, she wouldn't have been able to do that. Time changed everything. Could it change her feelings towards Ron? Hermione didn't think it could. Not after they'd been through so much together. She'd heard people saying that marriage and children and age itself changed you, but Hermione couldn't picture any of these things tearing her and Ron apart. In fact, she could clearly see them being pulled closer together.
But maybe those were famous last words. After all, people didn't go into a marriage thinking that they were going to break up, to grow apart with time. Well, no sane person would. Yet, suddenly, Hermione needed reassurance. She flopped over so that she was sitting on her knees, extended herself as far as she would go, then brought Ron's head down so that his lips could meet hers. The kiss was a different one, not the usual passion, but a frightened one. They both needed to know that the other was feeling the same thing. They stayed like this for a few minutes, Ron standing, Hermione kneeling on the pillows, until Ron suddenly pulled back.
“We can't do this.” he said, shaking his head.
“We can't do what?”
“It's more like me. I can't snog you.”
“Why not?” Hermione asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“It's just that... I feel sort of weird kissing a nun.”
A/N: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for all the reviews that have been coming in of late. They are SO wonderful, and they make me unbelivably happy. To those of you who review, thanks so much. You make my life! I'd like to take this opportunity to plug a new novel-length story that I have right now (I'm shameless like that). It's called Because I Love You, and it is another Ron/Hermione (although I feel as this goes without saying, since I've written like eight of them). It seriously needs some love. So, if you like this, and you want another romantic, funny, dramatic Romione story, check it out! By the way, the next chapter will be much longer. Here's a preview:
"I'm going to have dinner with my...”
Suddenly, a crafty look came over Hermione's face.
“Not, me, rather, but we.”
“We what?” Ron asked, his brow furrowing.
"We are having dinner with my parents."
Hope you're as pumped as I am! ~writergirl8
Ron was in an extremely cheerful mood. Not that he wasn't always in a cheerful mood these days, no, he was. But today he was extra over cheerful. This was for a few reasons that Ron considered so solid he didn't doubt that anyone wouldn't want to trade places with him that day. One, he was in the ministry cafeteria. Granted, the food was better at Hogwarts, but here it was still pretty damn good. Two, he had just finished all of his paperwork from his last mission, and that meant no writing for another few weeks. Third, and most important of all, he would be going on a picnic with Hermione the next day. They were going to the forest of dean, a nice, secluded area, and Hermione was going to make BLTs and fudge brownies.
Damn, he loved his life. Ron skipped through the lunch line and piled food mile high on his tray. Everything seemed pretty delicious, so he sat down and started to eat. Harry looked disgusted, but didn't say anything as his friend pigged out in front of him.
“So... ow was er dwa?”
“Excuse me?” Harry asked, starting to turn green. Ron swallowed.
“How was you're day?” he asked. “So far, I mean.”
“Oh.” Harry said, nodding. “Yeah. It was fine, I guess.”
Harry was rather grumpy of late, because he wasn't allowed to go on any assignments, order of Ginny. And everyone knew that if you defied Ginny, there was going to be hell to pay. Even Harry's co-workers were sympathetic. Although not, they said, about the actual fact that he was married to the girl.
“The temper sucks.” Seamus Finnegan had said. “But I would pay good money to shag her.”
Luckily for Seamus, Harry had not been there during this announcement. Unluckily for Seamus, Ron had. Needless to say, he was still in St. Mungo's.
“Still miffed about the assignment thing?” Ron asked unnecessarily. “Don't worry, mate. You'll be back soon.”
The sentence would have been undeniably reassuring, except for the fact that Ron had just taken a bite of a large chicken wrap and had little bits of lettuce sticking out of the corners of his mouth. Harry groaned and banged his head on the table.
“Gentlemen.” a brisk voice said. Harry and Ron looked up to see their boss, Robert, standing over them. Ron swallowed quickly.
“We've found Lestrange. He's hiding in a non-magical community in Scotland. We need as big a team as possible to go, so you both are on.”
“What's the danger level, sir?” Harry wanted to know.
“Eight-point-two. And we leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Ron asked, jumping up from his seat, while Harry sat there, looking ecstatic. “I sort of had plans, sir.”
“Well then I'd suggest you cancel them, Mr. Weasley.”
“Right away, sir.” Ron said, already looking downcast.
“Good day to you both.” Robert said, walking away. Ron groaned and sat down.
“Hermione's going to kill me.” he said matter of factly.
“No, she won't... wait, why would she kill you?” Harry said. Ron ignored him.
“I'd better go tell her. Face it head on.” Ron said seriously.
“What?”
Ron seemed to become aware of Harry's preasence.
“We were going to... er... divide that Nancy and Cam stuff tomorrow. So that when one of us was about to have a baby we wouldn't actually have to talk to each other.”
“Oh. Well, in any case... facing a problem head on. Looks like ickle Ronnikins finally grew up.” Harry said mockingly.
“You know, you say that often,” Ron mused, “But seeing as you keep saying it again and again, it either means that I grew up a while ago and you haven't gotten used to it, or I'm not grown up quite yet.”
“How very philosophical of you.” Harry grinned. Ron sighed as he dumped his food into a trash can and walking over to the lift. It lurched up, and Ron tweedled his thumbs together as he thought of what he was going to say to Hermione. Finally, he landed at Magical Law Enforcement and went right to Hermione's office. She was talking to some person Ron didn't know in the fireplace, but when he walked in Hermione immediately turned around.
“Hi, Ron.” Hermione said, smiling up at him. “This is Betty. Or, Elizabeth, really, but everyone calls her Betty.”
“Ah... so this is young Weasley.” The face in the fireplace said. “I went to school with your mum, you know.”
“Oh.” Ron said, feeling slightly as if he was being ganged up on. He didn't know why, but he felt as though Betty was giving him a very familiar look. One that said 'Get on with it.' Ron gulped. Hermione, noticing this, and also noticing Betty's face, stood up to say goodbye.
“I think I should go, Betty.” Hermione said gently.
“Can I have a word with the lad first?” Betty asked. Hermione glanced at Ron, then shrugged.
“It's up to him.” she said, biting her lip. Ron slowly inched forward.
“Listen, my boy,” Betty urged in quiet voice. “You either get the courage to propose, or knock her up so you'll have no choice but to do that anyway.”
Ron turned a fantastic shade of maroon. Hermione noticing this, said, 'Betty!' in a very loud voice.
“What?” Betty asked innocently. “I didn't do anything!”
“But- you- ah!” Ron spluttered. Hermione immediately extinguished the fire.
“What did she say to you?” Hermione asked, looking half amused, half taken aback.
“She... good merlin. How do you know this woman?” Ron asked furiously.
“Like she said, she and your mum are good friends.” Hermione said, going to sit on her desk. She motioned for Ron to sit on the couch, but he squirmed uncomfortably and stayed standing.
“Yeah, but how do you know her?” Ron prodded.
“Oh. Well, she made my... I mean- er- Ginny's wedding dress.”
Hermione's slip had not gone unnoticed.
“Your wedding dress?” Ron asked, turning pale, a grand contrast to his earlier state of red.
“Er- well... yes.” Hermione said, avoiding Ron's eyes. “Well, she just drew it. But, you know, if I ever might need it, you know, she made one. A beautiful one.” Hermione added looking up. There was a sudden and new sparkle in her eyes. Ron felt the immense need to sit down. “She's always been very supportive of, you know... us, and so I was calling to tell her that we were together.”
“Come to think of it,” Ron mumbled, “Maybe it's not such a terrible plan.”
“What plan?” Hermione asked curiously, and Ron immediately shook his head.
“It's not happening.” Ron said firmly. “And I didn't come here to have someone tell me to knock you up, I have news, and-”
“She did what?” Hermione asked, turning bright pink.
“It's nothing.” Ron rubbed the back of his head. “It's not like we've ever... you know... anyway.”
“So you have news?” Hermione asked brightly, seeming suddenly determined to get off of that subject.
“Oh. Yeah. I can't go to the picnic with you tomorrow. I'm going on a mission.”
From the look on Hermione's face, Ron could tell she was wishing they could start talking about sex again.
“Oh.” She said, “Danger level?”
Ron's stomach clenched.
“Eight-point-two.”
“Oh.” Hermione looked faint. “That's one of the high-”
“Yeah, highest I've ever been on. I know.” Ron said. “Apparently Lestrange has all these defenses set up around him.”
“Don't go.” Hermione pleaded. “Please.”
“I can't, Hermione. I can't do that to my office. You know that. You understand. You work harder then anyone I know.”
“Ron, I don't think I'll be able to stand it. I'm going to be worried sick, and-” her eyes were suddenly bright. “Take me with you! They'll let me go, Kingsley said that I could come with the aurors any time I wanted, as long as I promised to do strategy instead of battling, and-”
“No.”
Hermione eagerly walked over to her boyfriend and sat down on the couch next to him. She put her hand on his arm.
“Please, Ron, I-”
He wasn't looking at her. Hermione grabbed Ron's chin and turned it toward her so he was forced to face her.
“Ron, I can't just sit home and wait while you go on a dangerous mission. Eight-point-two.”
“I love you,” Ron said quietly, “But if you're going to be with me then you have to accept that I'm going to be doing dangerous things from time to time.”
He kissed her softly, trying to calm her. Hermione tried to kiss him harder, but he pushed her off of him and stood up.
“Not right now, Mione.”
She looked up at him, her eyes hurt and confused. She hid her head in her hands.
“You could get killed. And you want me to do nothing about it.”
“I swear I won't get killed.” Ron said, his voice begging her to forgive him. “There's no reason why I should.”
“The danger level is-”
“But that doesn't mean I have to die!” Ron snapped. “Do you have any faith in me?”
“Of course I do!” Hermione cried. “But-”
“No buts! It'll be fine. Harry's going, too. You can hang out with Ginny. And I'll come over tonight so you can say goodbye.”
“You can't, I'm going to have dinner with my...”
Suddenly, a crafty look came over Hermione's face.
“Not, me, rather, but we.”
“We what?” Ron asked, his brow furrowing.
“We are having dinner with my parents.”
“No way. Over my dead body.” Ron announced, turning pale.
“Sorry. You go on a dangerous mission, this is what I'm forcing you to do. It's your punishment.”
“Ginny gives Harry much better punishments.” Ron hinted. “Go talk to her about them... I really think they work.”
Hermione glanced up at Ron distastefully.
“Yes, I know exactly what kinds of punishments Ginny gives Harry.” she told Ron.“It's not happening.”
“Ever?” Ron whined.
Hermione paused.
“Well... maybe sometime. But not right now.”
This seemed to make Ron very happy, as those things usually do. Ignoring his silly grin, Hermione walked calmly over to her desk, sat down, and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I'm very excited for dinner tonight! I can't wait to see you both when I'm not extremely depressed. I wanted to tell you, though, that there's going to be an addition to the table tonight. Ron is coming to eat with us. He's very excited to meet you both, and I daresay you both with be thrilled to meet him, too. That was directed toward you, Daddy. Be nice.
Love, Hermione
“Be nice?” Ron asked, his voice high pitched. “Why, what usually happens when you bring boys home for dinner?”
“I dunno. I've never done it before. We'll just have to find that out.”
“I refuse-” Ron started, but Hermione snaked her hand around the back of his neck and placed a kiss on his lips. By the time Ron opened his eyes, the owl she had given the letter to was a small dot in the sky.
***
What did you wear to meet the love of your life's parents? This, quite frankly, was the only thought on Ron's mind now that the subject had come up. He didn't know whether to wear robes or muggle clothes. If robes, which pair? If muggle clothes, jeans or dress pants? Should he wear a navy blue shirt, or a black one? Ron desperately envied Harry. After all, the lucky bloke had met Ginny's parents before he'd even met Ginny, much less thought of dating her. He never had to worry about that, although he had been forced to face telling Ginny's parents. Then again, Harry hadn't had anything to worry about! For the love of merlin, he was the boy who lived! Everyone loved him, especially the Weasleys. What if Hermione's parents didn't like Ron? He didn't know what he would do if that happened... suddenly, in his mind, came an image of Hermione's father tying her up and forcing her not to love him anymore.
“Ron? What's wrong?” Hermione asked, looking quite bemused as she walked into his bedroom, brandishing a large shopping bag. Ron turned away from his closet and rushed over to Hermione, lifting her off the floor and kissing her. He heard a loud thump as Hermione dropped the bag and it fell onto the floor. “What was that for?” Hermione asked, looking amused, and still in midair.
“Well... I was picturing your dad locking you up and then forcing me to leave the house and then making you... you know... forget about me.”
Hermione started at Ron with a shocked expression on her face for a moment. Then she started laughing. She laughed so hard she was clutching her side, and she was all but falling down onto the floor. Ron let her go, crossed his arms, and wondered if she was going to start throwing up on his carpet.
“I am not amused.” he said finally.
“Oh, but I am.” Hermione giggled. “Please, Ron. Do you think my father would be able to stop me from loving you? Have a little faith!”
She slipped her hand around his neck and kissed him. Ron kissed her back halfheartedly, not yet over being laughed at. After a few moments he broke back and gestured toward his closet.
“Can you help me pick something out?” Ron asked.
“Ah, but of course.” Hermione smiled, walking into the closet. Within two seconds flat she had produced a white button down shirt and some nice blue jeans. Hermione herself was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a floaty shirt over a tank top. “Outfit chosen by Ginny, not me.” Hermione told Ron, noticing his gaze.
“It's perfect.” he told her, grasping her hand and bringing her to him. It wasn't his normal hug, either. One hand was cradling the back of her head, the other intertwined with her other hand. He played with her fingers, and Hermione closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. She wondered if this would be the last time Ron would hold her. On missions with danger levels this high, it wasn't unlikely for an auror to die. She rather thought she was underacting, if anything.
“What are you thinking?” Ron asked quietly.
“How much I like it when you hold me like this. You?” Hermione asked.
Ron knew that this situation needed some comic relief if they were both going to make it through the night.
“How easy your shirt would be to take on and off.” he said.
“Ron!” Hermione cried, backing out of his embrace. But upon seeing the look on his face, she started to laugh, and allowed Ron to scoop her up in his arms again.
“Of course, I'm only thinking about that for your own safety,” he said mockingly.
“Sure you were.” Hermione smiled, giving his jaw scar a quick kiss before wriggling out of Ron's hug and walking over to the fireplace. “I pulled some strings and had my parents' fireplace connected to yours. I hope you don't mind.”
“Not at all.” Ron said smoothly, walking over to the fireplace and meaning to grab the floo powder. Instead, he knocked it over.
“Wow. You're really nervous.” Hermione said, blinking at him incredulously. “Don't worry. My mum already loves you way too much.”
“Really?” Ron said hopefully.
“Really.” Hermione confirmed. She gestured for Ron to go to the fireplace, but he offered her the floo pot and said,
“Ladies first.”
Laughing, Hermione took the powder and threw it into the fireplace. She said her parents' address and spun away. Ron, gulping, did the same. When he emerged, coughing, from the fireplace, Hermione was hugging her mum. Ron watched, slightly fascinated, as she moved toward her father, giving him, too, a tender hug.
“Hi, Daddy.” Hermione whispered in his ear.
“Hi, little girl.” Mr. Granger responded. Hermione let go of her father and went over to stand next to Ron.
“Mum, Dad... this is Ron.”
Somewhere along the way Hermione had slipped her hand into Ron's, and now she gave his a reassuring squeeze. Swallowing hard again, Ron went over to kiss Hermione's mum on the cheek, then gave her father a gruff handshake.
“He's got a nice, firm handshake, Hermione.” Mr. Granger noted, nodding. Hermione beamed up at Ron, smiling approvingly. Her smile gave him confidence, and he glanced back at Mrs. Granger. She was looking at the couple with such tenderness on her face Ron couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled back, looking very much like Hermione when she did so, and led them into the sitting room.
“Hermione, love, will you come help me in the kitchen?” Mrs. Granger asked.
“Of course, mum.” Hermione said, and she let go of Ron's hand and walked into the kitchen. Ron stared after her, and Mr. Granger gestured to the couch. Ron sat down.
“My daughter loves you very much.” he said, his eyes piercing into Ron.
“I love her, too.” Ron said truthfully.
“You've hurt her a lot, though.”
“I know.” Ron said, closing his eyes briefly. “More then I ever wanted to. I can't even conceive in my mind a feeling like one that she must have felt when she...” he didn't want to go on. Mr. Granger didn't press him to. This surprised him, but he didn't say anything about it.
“She's loved you for a long time.” Mr. Granger told Ron.
“A year longer than I've loved her, unfortunately.” Ron replied.
“Hmph.” Mr. Granger said. “Well, as long as you're good to her.” he said.
“Thank you, sir.” Ron said, nodding at the man. “I promise that I will be.”
***
“He's adorable!” Mrs. Granger squealed as soon as the door to the kitchen had swung shut. “I don't usually like redheads, but...” Mrs. Granger trailed off as Hermione peeked through the cracks in the top of the door. “What's happening?” she asked.
“They're sitting down... Ron's turning red...” Hermione reported.
Mrs. Granger giggled.
“I'm so happy for you, Hermione.” she said honestly. “He's a good boy.”
“He's a great boy.” Hermione replied, thinking about the way Ron had held her earlier.
***
Dinner had gone perfectly. Everyone was happy, and full, and Mrs. Granger had proven to be an excellent cook. They had all had a marvelous time talking about how much Hermione's cooking skills had improved since the Horcrux hunt. Mr. Granger was peaceful to Ron the whole night, on the whole not showing much emotion, but not being rude either. When dinner was over, and all was said and done, Mrs. Granger asked the fatal question.
“Do you two want to stay over in Hermione's old room tonight? I think her bed's big enough for two... it's a Queen so you might have to squeeze, but-”
Ron, who had been taking a sip of coffee, spat it out.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“Oh, well, I just figured that it's already so late and... well, I didn't think that would be a problem.”
“Mum, we have a guest room.” Hermione said reasonably. Mrs. Granger turned red.
“Oh,” she said faintly, “I just assumed.”
“Mum, no!” Hermione cried, jumping up. “We haven't!”
“Really?” Mr. Granger asked, looking as though all his dreams had come true. “Marry this one, Hermione.” he said, beaming at Ron.
“Are you saying I should marry him because he hasn't taken advantage of me yet?” Hermione asked shrilly, raising her eyebrow at her father.
“Yeah. Is there any other reason why you should?”
Hermione turned pink, and she raised herself to her fullest height, put her hands on her hips, and faced her father angrily.
“Yes. Because he's smart, and funny, and daring, and sarcastic, and loving, and sweet, and adorable! Because I can count every single freckle on his nose, and because he always knows exactly what to say when I'm upset, even if he doesn't realize that he's saying the right thing! Because when I think about growing old, all I can think about is doing so with him! Because I've wanted to be with him since I was fourteen, and I will never, ever have so much history or chemistry with anyone else on this planet!”
Mr. Granger mouthed soundlessly at his daughter. Hermione huffed angrily and grabbed Ron's hand.
“Come on, Ron.” she said, pulling him toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Granger asked, her face red.
“To do the deed!” Hermione said sarcastically.
“We're doing what?” Ron asked, his voice high pitched.
“The deed.” Hermione said, her voice shaking with anger.
“Oh.” Ron said. “I didn't mean that. I know what the deed is. I mean... what?”
Hermione walked into her room and closed the door behind her and Ron.
“We're not actually going to do it.” she said, sighing. “I just wanted to make him mad.”
“Oh.” Ron said, looking around Hermione's room. It described her. It was everything he imagined it would be. It was a powdery blue, with bookshelves above the bed. Pictures of Hermione, Harry, and Ron were hung above her bed, and there was a beautiful view outside of her window. “You have a beautiful room.”
“Thanks.” Hermione said. “This was my life.”
“I know.” Ron said simply, sitting on the bed.
“Hermione!” Mr. Granger yelled up the stairs. “Are you alright?”
“Oh NO Ron, don't stop!” Hermione yelled loudly. She pointed to the bed and hissed to Ron, “Bounce on it!”
“Oh. Er.” Ron said, before climbing into the bed and bouncing up and down with so much enthusiasm Hermione had to laugh.
“Hermione... I know you're faking! I'm coming up right now!”
And then the door burst open and Hermione and Ron stared guiltily at Mr. Granger as his pale face emerged through the door.
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! I really enjoyed writing it. I just wanted to tell you all, the other day my cousin and I were at an art museum and we saw paper cut out of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. My cousin (who, by the way, is my go-to person for fanfiction, and without her I probably wouldn't even bother writing, or even care about Romione, so you can thank her for this story!) and I exchange glances and suddenly burst out laughing. Then, simultaneously we say, “LEANING TOWER OF PIZZA!” Then we both sighed, because we could never make that reference to anyone else in RL and have them understand. That's why I love you guys! Please review and tell me what you think, and if you have any questions for me about the story or other stuff, check out my MTA page! ~writergirl8
The crickets were chirping, even though it was still dark out. It was actually morning, although Hermione felt as though the night had been an endless eternity. She hadn't been able to sleep, at all. She'd stayed up the whole night, picking at a loose thread on her comforter, thinking. It was a warm night, even though it was October. Hermione had settled into bed wearing an old t-shirt of Ron's that he had left when he had moved out, as well as a pair of his old boxers as pajama bottoms. With the two of them together, she felt safe. Not happy, but safe. Because she needed his scent all around her. It was the only possible way she could feel safe. She felt like he was there, his arms circled protectively around her. Not on his way to work so he could leave for a mission that was the highest danger level he had been on. She would have given anything for that not to be true. For Hermione had long ago realized that a world without Ron was barely worth living. It seemed empty and unreal, unnecessary. If he was killed on this mission, she knew that a part of her would die, too. Hermione was well aware that this sounded completely over dramatic. But it was also true. He was apart of her soul now. A rather large part, too.
When Hermione was a little girl, she'd barely had any friends. She was a slightly eccentric child, not in a Luna-Lovegoody way, but in the way that she was a little miss perfect. Her parents had put pressure on her to be the child that they needed her to be, and she had complied. Perhaps, if Hermione had went her own way as a child, her growing up would have been different. Nevertheless, she didn't really regret it very much. Being Miss Goody Two-Shoes had given her so many opportunities. But Hermione had needed solace for being a friendless looser. And so she had started to seek comfort in books. First, she read the ones for young children her age. Then she moved onto the classics. Her favorite books were by Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott. The thing about Jane Austen's books was that they were all about love. Hermione read them curiously, thirstily. She was curious about this feeling that everyone was always talking about, this passion for someone that had the power to both make you unbelievably happy and unbearably depressed. She'd read these books, and she'd chortled at them. Sure, she loved to read them. But Hermione was a practical girl. She highly doubted that there was such thing as a passionate love. She decided, within her own head, that there was passion and there was love. But they couldn't go together.
When Hermione started school, probably around fourth year, she got her first taste of the things love could do to someone. It was the first time she started envisioning the two little red-headed children and the picket fence. The first time she'd wondered what her future would be like, and if Ron would be in it in the way she wanted him to be. She pictured scenes from the next few years: her first kiss with Ron, their first date, Ron proposing, getting married, her wedding dress, her engagement ring... Ron somehow become a lover of books that she loved too (this, by the way, never happened). Most of these things she imagined that year happened in different ways then she'd envisioned them to, but each real way was better, if not because it was somehow more romantic, but because it was real. That year, Hermione had desperately wanted Ron to ask her to the Yule Ball, but to no avail. Still, she had not felt the full fledged hurt of what she felt for him. She'd cried over him, of course. But she still doubted the feelings of the characters in her favorite love stories.
It was sixth year that sort of got to her. She had been positive that, if Ron didn't do something first, she would make some sort of move. She didn't know if she would be able to bear one more year of not knowing, and she had a slight inkling he might like her back, although she wasn't sure. Then she saw him with Lavender Brown. She had never known herself to be so sad, angry, and weak at the same time. She couldn't stand to look at him with her. Hermione had thought that she could have been Lavender. She'd wanted to be Ron's first kiss. She'd wanted to be his everything. She knew him better then Lavender Brown did, she had wanted him longer. She didn't want to be with Ron just so she could snog him! She appreciated everything about him. She'd told him in more ways then one that he was an insensitive arse with practically no emotions. But she knew that wasn't true. She was positive that Ron was smarter and deeper then most people gave him credit for. Hermione had loved, savored, in fact, watching him grow up from an awkward little boy into a wonderful young man. The difference between her and the other girls in her year was that she had always been there for him, and she had known what he could have been from the start, even though no one else seemed to. But somehow, Lavender got everything she wanted. And then, she knew how it was to hurt. After this, Hermione was completely turned off by the idea of love. But not the idea of Ron's love. She didn't know if she could ever be turned off by that idea. Even when Ron left her and Harry in the tent on that dark, rainy night, she never stopped hoping, no matter how much she wished she would.
But it wasn't until she and Ron got together after the battle that Hermione completely understood. For, although there was the battle and the deaths, Hermione didn't know if she had ever been happier. She knew without a doubt that getting over everything would have been so much harder without Ron. But he always reminded her of the future. He always reminded her of those two redheaded children that she wanted so badly. A little girl and a little boy. She didn't care which one came first. She just wanted them, more then anything she'd ever wanted in her life. Because that would mean she would be with Ron for the rest of her life. And it was always the vision of Ron taking care of those two, perfect kids that kept Hermione going. So she was happy. She fully understood, now, what it was like to feel only half alive when she was apart from Ron, and to want to cry tears of joy whenever she was so happy she felt too full not to cry. Because Hermione had never done that before. She'd never had reason to. Understanding the main characters made Hermione love her books even more. And Ron made her believe. Ron made her understand. Hermione now had no reason to be cynical. She was just as hopeless as the women in her books.
A sudden knock at the door tore Hermione from her thoughts. She sat up quickly, her eyebrows raised. Who would call on her at one o'clock in the morning? Well, she had an idea. But she didn't want to get her hopes up. Hermione got out of bed and grabbed her wand from the bedside table, then walked as fast as she could to the front door. She opened it. Ron was standing there, his face pale in the moonlight. He was holding a bag in one hand, and looking at the ground to the left of him.
“Ron!” she cried, and then she jumped into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist so that she was eye to eye with him. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm here for two reasons, actually,” Ron said, burying his face in her hair. “Number one, I had to say goodbye to you.”
“Or you don't have to,” Hermione suggested selfishly. “You can stay.”
“Sure, Harry would really be accepting of that,” Ron said sarcastically. “Yeah, mate, I'm staying home to be with my invisible girlfriend. Don't mind me.”
“If you stay home I'll tell them we're together,” Hermione told Ron.
“I can't. You know that.” Ron said softly. “But I can bring you company.”
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. And then Ron pointed downward and Hermione looked where his finger was indicating. She turned pale, and her hand flew to her mouth as she jumped down from Ron's arms. “C.. Crookshanks?” she asked, her voice shaking. “How the hell did you find him?”
“Actually,” Ron said, smiling at Hermione's gaping jaw and obvious delight. “he found me. Then I went on a wild goose chase trying to grab him.”
“Where?” Hermione asked, kneeling down in a state of shock.
“He came to the Burrow,” Ron said, glancing fondly at the cat. “And then he saw me and started running. It took my all to get him, but I finally did and here he is.”
This all seemed to be too much for Hermione. She scooped Crookshanks up in her arms and gave the top of his head a kiss.
“I can't believe he's not... I mean I can't believe he's still...”
“Magical cats have a much longer life expectancy than muggle ones,” Ron said cheerfully, hugging Hermione from the back as she clutched Crookshanks like she'd never clutched anything before.
“Thank god!” Hermione sang. Then she turned around and kissed Ron passionately on the lips. Ron threw his head back and laughed.
“I bloody love this cat,” he grinned.
“You used to hate him,” Hermione teased, shutting the door as Ron came in.
“That I did. But that was before I knew that he had the power to make you snog me like that. So what've you been doing?”
“Thinking,” Hermione said, just as Ron's eyes fell on her night attire.
“Why were you sleeping in my clothes?” he asked, half of his mouth quirked up into a smile.
“Becausetheysmelllikeyou.” Hermione said quickly, her face turned toward the ground.
“Huh?” Ron asked, his eyebrows raised.
“They smell like you,” Hermione said, swallowing. “I needed that.”
Ron instantly turned serious.
“I'm sorry I have to go on this assignment, Hermione,” he said, drawing his arms around her. She let herself melt into him, knowing that the smell of the shirt would be stronger if she did so. “I wish I could stay with you.”
“It's okay,” Hermione said, trying her best to speak. There was a lump in her throat, and her eyes were starting to tear up again. “I know you'd rather be here. I'm just worried. I wish I could be there. I can't stand... not knowing.”
Ron made a little noise of sympathy in his throat, and Hermione pulled away.
“You should go. I don't want you to be late, or anything.”
“Yeah, I think I already am. I was about to leave to see you when I noticed Crookshanks, and even then I only had about 15 minutes to tell you I love you and get over to the ministry.”
“Well, say it now,” Hermione said, her mouth twisted into a sad smile, “And then go away. You're making me cry.”
From behind his back, Ron pulled out a carton on triple chocolate ice cream.
“The situation is dire enough, don't you think?”
“Hell yes,” Hermione agreed, grabbing the carton from it. “I'll go the the gym or something in order to work it off.”
“You're perfect the way you are,” Ron said, slightly mockingly of the fact that Hermione had told him he was perfect the way he was whenever he complained about not being Harry. Hermione snorted, but didn't reply.
“Alright, well, I love you,” Ron said, dipping down to kiss the top of Hermione's head.
“Be safe,” Hermione whispered, looking up at Ron seriously. “Please.”
“I will,” Ron promised, squeezing her hand. And then, with a final kiss and another squeeze, he was gone.
***
It had been a week since Ron left, and Hermione hadn't gone into work. Most of the time she sat on her couch, stroking Crookshanks and staring blankly at the wall. She jumped at every tiny noise she heard, and she wouldn't answer any knocks at the door. Ginny had tried to floo her a few times, but Hermione had ducked under the couch so she couldn't see her, and had blocked her floo network altogether when it had gotten too annoying. Hermione knew that Ginny was worried, too. After all, the mission was only supposed to be three days long and Ron and Harry had been gone for a week. But Hermione didn't think she could stand to be around Ginny without blowing her and Ron's cover. So Hermione was completely ignoring her best friend in her time of need.
But Hermione had just gotten an owl from Ginny. And she couldn't ignore it any longer. Sighing as she lifted her underused joints off of the couch, Hermione headed over to the window sill to let the owl in.
Dear Hermione,
I don't even know why you have a problem with this. You and Ron aren't even together right now. And yet, you're cutting everyone out. Whatever. I can't pretend I understand your mind. But, god, at least come to visit! I'm sure I'm going through something similar to what you are. ~Ginny
PS: I'm at the Burrow.
She was right. Hermione had been cutting everyone out of her life. The woman resentfully went over to her fireplace and threw the floo powder in.
“The Burrow!” she cried, and soon she was inside of her second home, the place she knew so well, and yet not nearly as well as most. “Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Weasley? Ginny? Hello?”
Her voice echoed through the house, and Hermione wondered where everyone could be. Suddenly, Mr. Weasley's head popped out of the den.
“Hermione? Oh, hello!” he said, smiling weakly at her. “Molly and Ginny have just gone out for some mother-daughter time. They'll be back in about a half an hour, I expect. Would you like to wait?”
Hermione dithered on this for a few moments, but decided to do so.
“Alright,” she said, sitting down in a kitchen chair. Mr. Weasley walked quickly over to the stove and put the kettle on, then sat down in front of Hermione.
“So,” he said, drumming his fingers against the table, “How've you been?”
“Fine, thank you. You?” Hermione asked, grinning at the man she was very fond of.
“I'm well. Molly's worried sick, but Ginny's worse.” he added, and Hermione felt a pang of guilt. “But... judging from the lines on your face, you're really not doing much better.”
Hermione's head snapped up, and her eyes went wide.
“What are you implying?” she asked.
“I know you and Ron are back together,” Mr. Weasley said, his voice gentle but quiet.
How? Hermione's eyes asked, but she didn't say anything.
“It was the cat,” Mr. Weasley told her, shrugging.
“The cat?” Hermione asked, mouth dropping.
“The cat.” Mr. Weasley said, nodding firmly. “Crookshanks. Ron ran after that cat like a madman. He wouldn't let it go anywhere without him. And when he finally got it, he had this expression on his face that he always has when certain events happen.”
“Events?” Hermione repeated, confused.
“Events... all concerning you. Whenever he's with you or has just done something for you, he has this look. And then I remembered that I'd seen that look about a month ago when he came to say hello after the Hogwarts Reunion.”
“Oh my god.” Hermione said, laughing, her hand flying to her mouth. “You're just like him.”
“How so?” asked Mr. Weasley, smiling all the same.
“You both are more observant then anyone gives you credit for. Does Mrs. Weasley know yet?”
“I think on some level she does,” Mr. Weasley admitted. “But she hasn't said anything to me yet.”
The smile on his face flickered, then widened, and he reached across the table to hold Hermione's hand.
“I've always known, you know. You've always had this effect on him that no one else could inspire. I remember, the first time I met you, you two were arguing over which robes Ron should get. You fought until you beat him down, and right then Molly and I both realized that you were going to marry him someday, even if you didn't know it yet.”
“How did you know?” Hermione asked, amazed.
“My relationship with Molly isn't all that different from the one you have with Ron. Believe me, we can tell anything that's going on between you. A big fight, a little fight, a wonderful time... even when neither of you know it yet, it's always been you for him, and him for you.”
“Oh, wow.” Hermione said, letting a gush of air fall out of her mouth. “Could you warn Ginny about a week before he proposes, then? She'll want me to be wearing the right outfit..”
Mr. Weasley laughed just as an owl flew through the door.
Fleur is having her baby. Come to the hospital immediately. -Bill.
Hermione Granger had never seen Molly Weasley look so frenzied. Her hair was standing on end, her eyes were wide, her lip bit to eternity as she sat in the waiting room, waiting for her daughter-in-law to have her first grandchild. Not that it was the first grandchild conceived. But Fleur and Bill had only been lucky this past time.
“They should have had the baby at home! This hospital isn't clean!” Mrs. Weasley said for the eighth time, wiping her finger against the dustless chair.
“The hospital is completely sterilized, Molly.” Mr. Weasley said gently, as Ginny sat there, looking grumpy but worried.
“Mum, they deliver about fifty babies every single day. Get your wand out of a knot and join the sane people.” Ginny, who was not at all helping the case, said.
“And I'll help you sue if something happens that isn't just right.” Hermione added, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to calm down slightly at the small but reassuring joke. Suddenly, her face contorted again.
“What about the family? Did Bill write any of them? Maybe he expected us to write.”
“Bill's sensible Molly,” Mr. Weasley said, his voice soothing. “He'd include that in the letter.”
“We should have... rehearsed or something!” Mrs. Weasley cried, hiding her face in her hands.
“Yeah. I'm sure Bill and Fleur wouldn't mind doing the first part all over again, but the whole pregnancy thing will be annoying for them,” George grinned, walking into the waiting room.
“Hello, mother,” Percy said, leaning down to kiss his mum on the cheek as he entered behind George, followed closely by Charlie.
“However, we'll be well rehearsed by the time mine comes along, won't we, mother?” Charlie joked, imitating Percy's stiff attitude.
“Oh, good, see, Molly, everyone's here now,” Mr. Weasley beamed, his eyes silently thanking each of his boys for coming just in the nick of time.
“Harry and Ron!” Mrs. Weasley suddenly shrieked, bolting up in her chair.
“They're on an auror mission, mum,” Ginny said flatly, sounding bored.
Mrs. Weasley looked down at her twenty two year old child, annoyed.
“No, they're not. They're right there, running toward us.”
Hermione and Ginny's heads snapped up at the same time. Ginny bolted out of her chair and rushed to her husband, screaming incoherent strings of words as she threw her arms around his neck. Ron and Hermione locked eyes, and Hermione swallowed hard. She had to pay attention to her breathing, remind herself to do so, but it didn't matter much. Her heart was beating faster then fast to make up for it.
Ron walked over to her and sat down on the couch.
“How are you?” he asked formally.
“I'm fine, thank you.” Hermione replied.
Ron leaned down very quickly, and his breath tickled Hermione's ear.
“I need to talk to you.”
Hermione nodded and stood up.
“I'm off to the bathroom.”
She walked down the hall and turned a left. Ron made a mental note of it. A few minutes later, he, too, stood up.
“I'm gonna go get something to eat. Be right back.” he told his parents, who both beamed and nodded at him, Mrs. Weasley's smile bright because she was happy Ron was back, and Mr. Weasley happy because he knew where Ron was actually going. Ron headed down the hall and walked in the general direction of the bathrooms, not exactly sure where he was supposed to go. But then he passed a broom closet, and a hand reached out and tapped him on the shoulder, and he knew exactly who was in there, just by her touch. He walked into the closet, then turned around and carefully shut the door behind him, just before he was tackled by a very bushy haired being. He pressed his lips to hers and immediately started to kiss her, but after a few moments Hermione pulled back.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I was worried sick.”
Ron, disgruntled, started to kiss her cheeks and neck instead.
“I don't want to talk about my mission.” he said. Hermione pulled away from him, looking hurt, and went to face the opposite side of the broom closet.
“Well at least tell me if you succeeded, and if you're alright.” she said coldly.
“We did succeed, and I'm just fine.” Ron told her. And then Hermione flew at him again and started kissing every inch of him she could reach: his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, his throat, his nose.
“I was so worried!” she murmured between kisses. “And I missed you so much.”
“I'll make it up to you,” Ron said, feeling the ring that was in his pocket. He'd taken it with him on the mission in hopes that it would remind him of Hermione.
“Hmm? How?” Hermione asked, her lips coming back to his mouth.
“I.. hmph.” Ron stopped talking and concentrated on his girlfriend, wrapping his arms around her waist as she put her arms around his neck. He pushed her against the wall, and Hermione twisted her fingers into his hair. Just then, the door to the broom closet burst open.
“My eyes! MY EYES!” screamed an all too familiar voice. “Oh my god... what the hell?”
“Harry!” Hermione squealed in a high pitched voice.
“Put your shirt on, Hermione!” Harry demanded, covering his eyes with his hand. “You too, Ron. What the hell were you two doing? Oh my god, oh my god...”
Hermione pulled on her shirt, then grabbed Harry's arm and brought him into the broom closet, slamming the door behind him. She and Ron rounded on their friend, walking toward Harry so that he was forced to back against the wall.
“You two were... oh my god... you were...”
“Snogging?” Ron suggested, his eyes like stone. Hermione, who found that look kind of sexy when it wasn't turned on her, tried not to look at her boyfriend, for fear that she would break the stern act.
“SNOGGING!” Harry yelled, twitching.
“Yes, we're together.” Hermione said to shut him up.
“TOGETHER! TOGETHER?” Harry cried.
“Together, yes.” Ron said. He was doing his best not to touch any part of Hermione, even though it was his natural instinct to hold her hand or put his hand on the small of her back. He didn't want to scare Harry more then he already was.
“But you can't tell Ginny,” Hermione warned.
“Why not?”
“She'd tell everybody else!” Ron snapped.
“I can't lie to my wife!” Harry complained.
“Divorce her.” Ron suggested.
“Or,” Hermione said calmly, throwing Ron a dirty look, “You could not lie to her, but not tell her the truth.”
“Come on, Hermione,” Harry groaned. “You know I'll let it slip sometime.”
“Well, hopefully by that time we'll be ready to tell.”
Harry moaned again but deflated a little.
“How long, then?” he asked.
“Ever since the Hogwarts Reunion.” Hermione said gently. Finally, she felt Ron's hand slip into hers, and she smiled, feeling content at his touch. Harry, however, took a deep breath, and hid his head in his hands, then started to pace.
“Don't get me wrong, you two. This is brilliant. And hopefully it's lasting, too.”
“Believe me. It is.” Ron said. He wanted to show Harry the ring box in his pocket, but didn't dare trust the poor bloke with anymore huge secrets.
“But why can't you tell anyone?” Harry asked. Hermione shrugged.
“We have our reasons,” she said vaguely. “But, you know, whenever you need to talk about it, you can always come to one of us.”
“No, I can't,” Harry said pointedly. “The last time I wanted to talk about it I kept walking in on you and Ron snogging. It's not a pretty sight, you know.”
“Oh, please, and you think we like walking in on you and Ginny?” Ron asked heatedly.
“Well, I-”
“Shut up you two!” Hermione hissed, putting a hand over Ron's mouth. Footsteps were coming down the hall, and she didn't want to be heard.
“Harry?” Ginny's voice said. “Harry?”
Harry squirmed, but didn't reply. He seemed to be aware of the fact that this was where all the lying started. Ginny's footsteps wandered further down the hall, but she turned around and headed back to the waiting room after a few more seconds.
“Harry, what did you come here for in the first place?” Hermione asked, realization suddenly dawning on her.
“Oh. Er- the baby has been born.”
Hermione was out of the closet like a bullet, running down the hall toward the waiting room, Ron close at her heels.
“Where have you guys been?” Ginny demanded, but they all ignored her as they walked into the overcrowded room where Fleur had just brought a new life into the world. Ginny followed closely behind, holding onto her husband's arm.
“Alright, some people have to go!” the Healer said, looking alarmed at the large quantity of people. Everyone started filing out, until the only people left in the room were Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione and Ron.
“Ermione, would you like to 'old her?” Fleur asked, noticing the soft, longing look on Hermione's face.
“Please!” Hermione breathed, taking the baby from Fleur. She held it tenderly, stroking it's soft cheek.
“What did you name it, Fleur?” Ginny asked, glancing away from the baby for the first time.
“Victoire.” Fleur said, looking tired but beaming all the same.
“Hi, Victoire,” Hermione cooed. “Welcome to the family.”
Ron walked over to her and shifted his position so that his body was just behind Hermione's.
“Yeah. What she said,” Ron told the small baby. “I'm your Uncle Ron.”
“She's so beautiful.”
Hermione was obviously ignoring everything that was going on that wasn't the baby. In her perfect world, she'd have one just like it soon.
A/N: Okay, so this update was ridiculously short :P It was also really fast, right? So that's good! But, hey, to make up for the utter shortness of this chapter (I think this and the last were originally one and I had to split it) I'm going to let you all in on a secret.
I wrote a sequel. I'll reveal the name a little later, but so far it is fourteen chapters. I'm going to see how people respond to it, and if people want me to continue I will. If not, I'll just end it at chapter fifteen. I hope you review and tell me how you liked Harry's reaction and your opinion on what you hope the sequel will be like! For questions, comments or concerns, feel free (read: pllleeasssee) to check out my MTA page! ~writergirl8
Preparations for George and Angelina's wedding day had been in full swing, but Hermione hadn't been paying any attention to them. She had mainly been sitting at Victoire's side, watching the little girl sleep, watching Fleur feed her, and giving in to every whim the baby had. It was like a built in baby sitter, Fleur joked quietly. But she could see how much Hermione loved this baby. How much Hermione wanted one of her own. Yes, Victoire was beautiful. She was a part veela, for the love of merlin. She had to be beautiful, and she enticed everyone around her. But there was something in the way Hermione reacted to her that made Fleur realize that Hermione wasn't just hanging around Victoire because she was a cute baby. She was hanging around her because Victoire was a Weasley child.
It was the day of George and Angelina's wedding, and nothing had changed. Hermione was sitting at Victoire's side while Fleur took a nap, and Bill was at work. It was a Wednesday wedding, mainly because, for some reason, Wednesday had been Fred's favorite day of the week. No one actually knew why. But no one ever questioned the antics of Fred or George. Despite the fact that sometimes they acted completely ludicrous, they were usually right about most things. Or, at least, Fred had been. George was now. Hermione slowly trailed a finger across Victoire's smooth baby skin. If she closed her eyes, she could even pretend that Victoire was hers, and that Ron was at work, just like Bill was now.
“'ow long 'ave you two been togezer again?” Fleur asked quietly, coming up behind Hermione.
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, turning around.
“Vell, you 'ave been obsessing over Victoire ever seence she 'as come.” Fleur shrugged. “And I figure zat zis means you are back togezer with Ronald? Because she eez a Veasley child, no?”
“Oh. Um, since the Hogwarts reunion.”
It seemed only natural to reply with the truth. More and more people seemed to be finding out, and Hermione was starting to want to shout it to the rooftops. She didn't exactly know how much longer she could keep her and Ron's relationship a secret anymore, but as long as it existed she didn't think it mattered anymore.
“Zat ees vunderful, 'Ermione.”
“I think so, too.” Hermione said, smiling softly.
“I vant you to be 'er godmuzzer.” Fleur said out of the blue.
Hermione turned around quickly, her eyes wide with excitement.
“What?” she asked. “Oh, I would love to, but... shouldn't you have Ginny or Gabrielle do it?”
“I veel have more children. But for now, I theenk you deserve 'er more zen anyone. You 'ave spent more time with 'er, you have been around 'er so much more. I am right, am I not?”
“Yes.” It was hard to ignore raw fact.
“So zen you are 'er godmuzzer.”
Just then, Ron walked into the room, saw Fleur, and quickly backed out.
“She knows,” Hermione called. “You can come in.”
Ron appeared in the doorway, looking confused.
“How did she find out?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“I guessed,” Fleur said, picking up Victoire and straightening her frilly pink nightdress. “I am not stupid, you know.”
“Wait- does anyone else know?” Ron asked, panicked.
Fleur shook her head.
“Besides Mr. Weasley, no one. Zey are not looking for eet, not after all zis time. But us veelas... ve know ven eet ees true love.”
Hermione blushed, but looked up at Ron, a large smile stretched across her face. He leaned down to kiss her, and Fleur cleared her throat and said,
“I theenk eet ees time for zee lady to start getting ready? Ermione, I veel elp you with your 'air. Zer is an ancient veela method that I zinc veel vork perfectly with your bushiness.”
Hermione nodded, then walked out of the room to change into her dress. The red chiffon fit over her just as perfectly as she remembered, and if she breathed in really closely she could smell a bit of Ron on it. It would help her through the evening. Both Ron and Hermione agreed that it had been best for their charade if they didn't talk to each other at the wedding. George had always been good with the whole sexual chemistry thing. He could tell anything, and although they were relying on the fact that he was blissfully in love on his wedding day to disguise their feelings for each other, you could never predict much with George.
***
“Ginny? Can I borrow your...?”
Hermione darted into the room, but stepped back when she noticed Angelina sitting there, looking at herself in the mirror with an expression on her face that clearly stated the fact that she was having second thoughts.
“Angelina? Are you alright?” Hermione asked. She startled, the look shook off of her face, and she smiled at Hermione.
“Oh, yes. Perfect!” Angelina said unconvincingly.
Hermione sat down on the bed.
“Do you need to talk? I'm not going to judge you, you know.”
“I know,” Angelina sighed. “I guess it's just nerves...”
She trailed off, and Hermione sat there patiently, waiting.
“It's just that... do you think it's too soon? I mean, we haven't even been dating for that long. What if it doesn't work out? It's a pretty huge choice to get married, and George isn't always the most serious guy. Do you think he's taking this seriously?”
“Angelina, I never thought I'd say this to someone on her wedding day, but you need to stop and listen,” Hermione said bossily, grimacing her apologies. “Every time George looks at you, his face gets brighter, because you always bring a smile to his face. And ever since Fred died, it's been harder to do that. But you brought him back. He owes you who he is. And he would never back out on you. When he says those vows, he'll love you forever. Because if there is one thing George does not lack, it is passion. He knows that this is huge. But he'll stick with it, because you mean so, so much to him.”
Angelina looked at her, then smiled.
“God, I can't believe I ever doubted that. I think you know him better then I do. Do you want to marry him instead? You probably deserve it more.”
“Nope.” Hermione said, getting up and grinning. “I've got my eye on another Weasley.”
Angelina's mouth dropped open, and she shouted,
“HERMIONE!” as Hermione floated out of the room. But she didn't turn back. She walked down the steps and back out to the lawn, where the party was set up. She could probably find Ginny there, although she didn't really need lipstick that much. Maybe she'd just ignore it. It was time to get started, anyway.
Angelina walked down the aisle, and George couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. That was how it was supposed to be, of course. But Hermione was so immersed in the wedding and trying not to cry she barely noticed that Ron wasn't taking his eyes off of her. She could feel them, somehow, but as she turned to face the alter, she forgot all about him and got lost in the romance of two people giving each other forever. Okay. She didn't really forget all about him. It had long ago been established that- when you were in love- the person that you were in love with never actually left your mind. They were on it twenty four seven, actually, and whenever they were in the same room you always looked for them. You sometimes got butterflies and automatically looked up when someone said their name. It also came with a natural inclination to inquire about them from the person who had said their name, which could lead to some embarrassing situations.
The ceremony wore on, and Hermione clapped and cried at the exact right times. As if nothing were different. As if she weren't hiding something huge from the people who wanted this most, possibly more then she did. Well, almost more. No one- not even Ron- could possibly want this relationship more then she did. Why she kept fighting it, Hermione had no idea. Perhaps it was natural instinct, like riding a bike when you hadn't ridden in years. Perhaps over the years she had gotten so used to hiding the fact that she had a crush on Ron, she had just gotten a reflex that stopped herself from being with him. To say that she had a reflex to stop herself from falling too hard was pointless, because she'd fallen so hard she didn't even think a giant, fluffy pillow could cushion the blow.
Hermione and Ron sat at the same table (Angelina was still pushing for them, and she and George had chosen to have no bridesmaids and groomsmen), and tried not to touch each other as they ate steak. Mrs. Weasley sat there, looking as though she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be happy about the marriage or upset about the fact that she was robbed of the time to plan another wedding. Ginny and Harry's had been lavish, extravagant, and beautiful. Hermione knew that, if the time ever came, her and Ron's wedding would be just as elegant, old fashioned, and perfect as she had always dreamed- but only because she had Mrs. Weasley and Fleur working for her, as well as Betty. But she didn't want to think about herself today. Angelina glowed in her white dress, and her long hair seemed brighter then ever before. For once, George's hair didn't clash with anything; they had gone with white flowers, playing it safe. The burrow was nicely lit, and the glow that was cast on everyone seemed to make everything more gorgeous then it actually was.
Before Hermione knew it, the whole wedding halfway, and everyone was trying to turn away from George and Angelina, who were kissing so passionately it was as though they forgot everyone was watching. Hermione got up and wondered over to the buffet dessert table, grabbing bunches of Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking and adding them to her plate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed George and Angelina dancing together, jabbering about whatever they usually talked about. Ginny and Harry were on the sidelines, holding hands, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were swaying together in the middle, as well. It was how every Weasley wedding went, and the scenario was unbelievably desirable. She looked across the crowd and caught Ron's eye. He looked at her, giving her a little half grin. She smiled back, then looked away to check and see if anyone had seen. No one had a particularly exhilarated or shocked look on their face, so Hermione turned back to the food, satisfied with the fact that she was still somewhat discreet. But as the night continued, Hermione saw only flashes of Ron around the yard. And she kept on feeling that she wasn't enjoying this wedding nearly as much as she could be. He didn't look happy either. In fact, every time he bumped into her or caught sight of her, he seemed to be growing more and more frustrated. Finally, he turned around and went to the side of the yard where nobody was. Hermione excused herself from her conversation with Mr. Weasley (about the precise function of a can-opener, which she had thought would be obvious), then rushed to the other side of the yard.
Ron was sitting on the swing, watching the sunset. The colors were splashing across his face, making his nose look more comical then usual. Hermione approached him quietly, then sat next to him on the swing and started swinging with him. He leaned into her, and she leaned into him. She wondered if it was a coincidence that they fit together perfectly. Suddenly, a song came on over the speakers, louder, but more beautiful. Ron smiled, and turned to Hermione.
“I requested this one. I've been practicing.”
And then he stood up, held out her hand, and she took it. He lifted her up, and she stood. He drew her to him, and they danced. She suddenly heard a voice singing the words in her ears.
“I've been alone with you inside my mind. And in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times.”
Hermione closed her eyes and let out a laugh.
“This song describes us, doesn't it?”
Ron nodded, and she snuggled her head into his neck. Ron returned to singing the lyrics in a terrible, off-key voice that Hermione absolutely adored.
“Tell me how to win your heart... cuz I haven't got a clue. But let me start by saying I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Hermione said, kissing him. He kissed her on the nose, and she sighed and leaned her head against his chest. Never mind marriage, and babies, and worries. This was perfection.
A/N: So, I wasn't actually going to post another chapter so soon. But then one of my favorite stories got updated and it was amazing and I'm so happy I want to cry... so I'm being speedy quick with an update! Here you go- and I hope you liked it. By the way, credit for lyrics go to Linol Richie. Please excuse my spelling of his name... ~writergirl8
Her suitcase was lying on the bed, stuffed full with everything she could possibly need for the trip. If it had been a different situation, Hermione would not have over packed. But she couldn't stop ignoring the brick in her stomach long enough to pack properly, and so Hermione had just shoved everything she owned into her suitcase and buckled it up. This was going to be the hardest date yet. She and Ron were together now, and, furthermore, they would be under the constant surveillance of hidden cameras. It wasn't going to be a little date, five hours, tops. Oh, no. This was a five day date, with twelve hour surveillance from eight to eight. It was the final date, and Hermione knew that the audience members would be getting desperate for her and Ron to get together by the time the date aired. And although she was freaking out, Hermione was pretty sure that she had nothing to worry about. It wasn't like there were cameras in the bathrooms.
They were going to be spending five days in a log cabin somewhere in the mountains. They'd be skiing on their own private part of the mountain, and even the fact that Hermione already knew how to ski was not helping her nerves one bit. Then again, she was sure that she and Ron would probably not do much skiing. She had promised him that she wouldn't make him ski if he didn't want to. Of course, she thought he was a wimp for not wanting to try something new, but she was also grateful. She wasn't really in the mood to ski, seeing as Ron had stepped on her foot more then once while they were dancing together at the wedding. Granted, it had been the most romantic moment of her life. Or, rather, one of them. But that didn't make her feet hurt any less. Luckily for her, whenever she needed to calm down all she did was think about how Ron's voice had sounded singing 'Hello'. She'd loved it. Ron was not the greatest singer, but he was hers. And the fact that he was willing to put himself out there and sing for her was undeniably sweet.
She had no reason to be nervous. Of that, Hermione was sure. What were the odds of something terrible happening, something discriminating to her and Ron's relationship? And, if something did happen, what were the consequences? People being slightly mad at them, but altogether thrilled that they were back together again? The only thing Hermione was really worried about was living in the same house with Ron all over again. Sure, they'd done it just a month ago. But they hadn't been together then. There were boundaries. And the problem was, there weren't boundaries anymore. Hermione and Ron's relationship was just as serious, if not even more serious, then it had been when they broke up. And she was scared of what it meant. She was scared of what it was doing to her. Every time they snogged, they went she wanted things to go as further and further. Seeing as Hermione took it upon herself to be the voice of reason in her and Ron's relationship... well, this scared the hell out of her. She kept on stealing glances at the white box in her closet. But this time she wasn't looking at it for the wedding dress.
She walked over to the box and opened it, looking down into it's empty bottom. She'd packed the contents of the box. The only thing left in it was the wedding dress design, forlorn and, temporarily, forgotten. All alone. Hermione wasn't exactly expecting anything to happen. But that didn't mean she didn't want anything to happen, and she recognized that it was always in her best interest to be prepared. Hermione couldn't ever bear not to be absolutely prepared for anything. She'd gone as far as to pack a bathing suit, just in case there was an indoor pool or hot tub or something. She had trainers, flip flops, style boots, snow boots, gloves, hats, scarfs, and a special box to put her wand in when she wasn't using it. It had a tracking spell on it, so, whenever, or if ever, she lost it, it would turn bright red and start vibrating and making lots of noise. But Hermione barely ever lost anything, so the point was relatively moot.
Hermione glanced at the rose sitting on her dresser and let out a sigh. Ginny would be coming over in a moment, probably bringing Hermione a few last minute outfits. She was going to go crazy knowing that she couldn't pick out Hermione's clothes everyday for the dates. It was so hard to lie to Ginny, but Hermione was still enjoying the secret. It made her feel mischievous and fun. She was positive that George would be proud. Rarely could anyone succeed in fooling Ginny. But she never found what she wasn't looking for. Hermione made a point to complain about Ron each day at least five times and he tried to complain about her around six. Ginny was so convinced that the two hated each other she wasn't looking for anything. Unless something extremely obvious put itself right in front of her nose, the secret was safe.
“Hey!” Ginny rushed into Hermione's room, pink with excitement, a little out of breath from her mad dash to get to the room before Hermione left. “Have fun!”
“Doubtful.” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “I can't believe I have to be locked up in a house with that arse for five days.”
I love you, I love you, I love you.
“It'll be fine. Just try not to hurt or kill him.”
“We'll see.” Hermione said, giving Ginny a one armed hug. She looked around the room and, upon failing to find Crookshanks, said, “Accio Crookshanks!”
The terrified cat soon zoomed toward her and right into his cat carrier, squealing, mewing, and waving his arms.
“You're bringing Crookshanks?” Ginny asked, looking as though she was trying to hold in her giggles.
“Yep. I can get him to scratch Ron sometimes. It's very funny.”
The rose began to glow.
“Bye, Ginny. I'll see you after the date.”
“See you.” Ginny said, backing out of the room as Hermione placed her finger carefully onto the porkey. Soon, she was spinning through the air, holding on for dear life, and trying not to think about how she really liked apparation better. She was doing everything she could to keep her finger on the rose, and when she finally landed it was a relief to let it go. She ended up in a heap on the ground, and then stood up, shaking her head a little bit to clear it. Ron was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a Quidditch magazine.
“Hi, Granger.” he said, barely looking up as she arrived.
“Hi, Weasley.” Hermione said, smirking at him.
“What're you looking at?” Ron asked, seemingly annoyed.
“Your ugly face.” Hermione retorted. Then she grabbed her suitcase and walked down the hall. The cabin was beautiful, completely made of wood and decorated in an elegant and old fashioned manor. “Which room is mine?” Hermione asked, poking her head back into the kitchen.
“The one on the right.” Ron told her, his face hard. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and opened the door. The room was beautiful. There was a cherry wood fireplace, a cherry wood king sized canopy bed, covered with a dark red comforter and red and white pillows. All around the room were beautiful paintings, all with red and brown tones, and on the cherry wood bedside tables and dressers there were red and brown candles, unlit, but there mostly for decoration. Hermione, smiling broadly, rushed into the bathroom, and squealed at the sight of the huge, swimming pool sized bathtub and the steam room to the left. Wizarding game shows sure knew how to treat a girl.
“RON!” Hermione suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs. “WHY IS THE TOILET SEAT UP? DID YOU USE MY BATHROOM? YOU ALWAYS DO THAT!”
Ron rushed into the bathroom in a few seconds to see Hermione smiling cheekily at him, and he shouted,
“THAT WASN'T ME!” before rushing over to kiss her. She tangled her hands into his hair and let a little moan escape from her lips as his mouth moved to her neck. They'd just seen each other the night before, but it felt like an eternity. She remembered how that felt, now. How it sometimes was difficult to be apart from him. After a while, she pushed him off of her, regretting it even as she did it.
“Love you.” Hermione whispered, before marching out of the bathroom, saying over her shoulder “Just don't do it again, okay, Weasley?”
***
Their evenings were the best times. They got to be together completely without the cameras, in this totally romantic place. On the second day, Hermione learned that she should probably only take baths or showers during the nighttime. The bathrooms became her and Ron's prime meeting places, and once he walked in on her while she was relaxing in the tub. Granted, she'd been completely covered by bubbles. But that didn't stop her from feeling embarrassed. She'd just been so sick of all their false bickering, she'd had to escape the scene. Ron had turned beet red, and Hermione had immediately put the leg she had been shaving under the water, resulting in a giant nick. Apologizing profusely, Ron had conjured up a band aid, but the little patch up on her skin hadn't made the strange feeling in her stomach go away. The incident hadn't been mentioned by either since, but Hermione had been itching to sneak up on Ron in the shower when he had taken one the night before after they'd gone skiing.
That's right. Skiing. Hermione had finally gotten bored with sitting around and fake bickering, so she'd told Ron that, since she'd flown on a broom for him, he had to ski for her. He seemed oddly agreeable to the idea, until he realized how hard it was. Still, Ron played it up by landing in Hermione's arms every time he fell. Soon, it had gotten to the point where Hermione put pads on him and vowed to teach him to ski by the end of the trip. They'd been staying out until eight o'clock at night, when the cameras went off and they were free to go home and watch a movie. Tonight was no different. Hermione and Ron were stationed at the top of the bunny hill, both bundled up into their ski jackets.
“No, you have to... look.” she moved his legs so they were in the right position. Ron raised his eyebrow at her.
“Hermione, love, it's just skiing.” he said, “We aren't in a dungeon. My life doesn't depend on me learning how to do this.”
“Yes it does,” Hermione said fiercely. “I've never failed at anything in my life.”
“Ahh. Now this makes a hell of a lot more sense.”
“Ron, shut up.” Hermione said, monotone. “look, I'll go too. We can ski down together. I think you're ready, so... I just...”
She leaned down and repositioned his leg again. Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione rolled hers back at him, then gave him a push. Soon, both were catapulting down the hill at break-neck speeds. And then, in a terrifying moment, Ron started to fall. Hermione skied faster, trying to help him, but ended up landing on top of him.
“Oh, I'm sorry.” Hermione moaned. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” came Ron's muffled answer.
“We're done for today.” Hermione announced, getting up and sticking her hand out to Ron. He took it, and she helped him up. Then they trooped back to the house to take steaming showers. When they were finished, Hermione and Ron met up in the kitchen, Hermione's hair dry and Ron's sopping.
“Can you help me with that?” he asked. “I'm not too good at glamor spells, for some reason.”
“Of course I can. Here.” Hermione lifted her wand and performed a nonverbal spell. Ron's hair was instantly dry. Hermione checked the clock. “After eight.” she said in a satisfied manor. Then she handed Ron a cup of tea. They sat down at the table and drank in comfortable silence. And then, Hermione raised her head and asked the question.
“Do you ever get scared? That it's all going to happen again?” She was, of course, talking about their break up.
“No.” Ron said simply. Upon noticing Hermione's skeptical face, he started over. “I'd do anything for you.” he said. “I'd change any habit, any flaw. It's too hard to live without you. If you hated my red hair, I'd dye it brown.”
“You know I don't hate your...” Hermione said hurriedly, but Ron raised his hand to her lips.
“It was just an example, Mione.” he said, and she chuckled into his palm. He slowly removed it, his eyes locked on her.
“I wouldn't want that anyways,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“Would you really want that kind of relationship, Ron? You change yourself so that I'd love you?”
“When you put it like that...” Ron said, grinning nervously at her.
“Yeah, it's as bad as I make it sound.”
He laughed, and, unable to resist the infectious sound, Hermione leaned over and kissed him. He sighed against her lips and pulled her closer, loving the way they were able to be close after purposefully avoiding contact for the game show cameras. Hermione's hand found its way into Ron's hair, and she kissed him furiously, with a passion that surprised Ron. Somehow, he felt that this was different. Curiosity crossed his face as she suddenly pulled back.
“Let's go to my room.”
“Excuse me?” Ron spluttered, shock crossing his face. He hadn't seen this coming. “Are you insinuating what I think you are?”
“So what if I am?”
“I would back away from you and ask who you were and what you had done with Hermione Granger.”
She smirked mischievously at him, then leaned down and placed a light kiss on his collarbone.
“Don't I surprise you occasionally?”
“That's true. You do.”
“Well, now's one of those times.”
“Not that I'm arguing,” Ron said, his eyes flicking around the cabin, “but I don't know if you want to do this. I mean, you warned me years ago that we were waiting until we got married.”
“It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind.”
“Plus,” Ron added, “it's weird that we're talking about it beforehand.”
“You do know me, don't you?”
“I'd like to think so.”
“I'm logical. I talk about things before. I look at them from all angles. And I've been analyzing this for quite a while.”
“Oh, Hermione. You would.”
“Tread carefully. You're about to get lucky, but if you take a wrong step I will rescind any permission I have given you to touch me.”
“I'm just gonna shut up now.”
“How about you shut up and kiss me, eh?”
So he did. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her to her room, kicking open the door with enthusiasm that made Hermione laugh. Comic relief. That was what she needed to make this less awkward. As she giggled she felt a bit of the nervous tension leave her body. Tenderly, Ron dropped her onto the bed. He leaned down and kissed her, then pulled back once more, still concerned.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm sure.” Hermione breathed. And it was true. She was more sure about this then she'd ever thought she would be when thinking about this situation. Why wait? Why was that necessary? She was nearly twenty four. She knew who she would be spending the rest of her life with. There was no question. And so she took out her wand and said the words to a spell that she had never said before, but one that she'd read about a couple of times. And she shivered pleasurably as Ron lifted her shirt over her head, his rough hands tickling her sides. As his lips moved to her neck, Hermione remembered the lingerie that was sitting in her closet. But she felt no regret. This was much, much better. Unpredictable, but still predicted. Spontaneous, but it had been coming on for a while. If that made any sense. But not much things did, these days. And with Ron by her side, that was okay.
A/N: Oh my gosh. Nine chapters left? I'm on the verge of tears now! I can't even imagine what it's going to be like when this story is over. I actually cried when I finished writing it... but that was last July, and it's going to be like finishing all over again! Thanks so much for the amazing reviews that you have been leaving. I love all of you for doing so, even those who just write a few words. I feel like I have formed friendships with those who review, and it's wonderful. It's because of you guys that I wrote the sequel, and I hope you will continue to review to the end of the story and onto The World According to Perfection! ~writergirl8
It was about seven o'clock in the morning when Ron's body clock woke him up. He stretched and looked around, wondering why he'd forgotten to put on pajamas the night before. Then he felt the body heat next to him in the bed. Resisting the urge to yell in fright, Ron suddenly realized that the figure (who also lacked anything in the form of clothes) was Hermione. Last night's events suddenly came rushing back to him, and he resisted shouting, this time with joy. Grinning to himself, Ron pulled Hermione closer and trapped her into a hug. Unfortunately, this time, it was her turn to wake up. She turned over, uttering a little groan that sounded somewhat like the sound Ron had come to enjoy profusely. But then she looked down at Ron's arms and screamed, before realizing who was holding her. Then, she blushed.
This could possibly be the worst outcome Ron could think of. He was nowhere near blushing. He was, obviously, too happy. But Hermione seemed to be mortified. She clapped her hand over her mouth and leaped out of the bed, dragging the sheets with her. Ron suddenly felt embarrassed, too. Why had he thought she would be happy about this? He'd practically forced her into the whole thing!
“I'm sorry!” Ron and Hermione said at the same time. “Why?” they both asked again.
“I practically jumped you last night!” Hermione cried. “I forced you into the whole thing.”
“Are you kidding? I was the one who took you to your room. Besides, I wanted it. I am a man, after all, Hermione.”
Her expression changed, to a look Ron couldn't quite identify. He wasn't going to try, either.
“Oh. Well, me too.” Hermione said, turning bright red again. “I'm not a man, but... well you get it.”
“Definitely.” There was a pause. “Hey, um, you're not... pregnant, are you?” Ron asked stupidly. Hermione burst out laughing and crawled back onto the bed. Ron's lack of knowledge on the subject seemed to break the ice.
“No, I'm not, I performed the spell. And even if I'd failed- which I'm extremely doubtful of- I wouldn't know if I was pregnant yet. It hasn't even been twenty four hours, Ron!”
“Oh. Right,” Ron said, trying to comprehend these facts. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked next.
“I don't really know yet.” Hermione answered, which was a lie. She'd stayed up about three billion hours after Ron had gone to sleep, thinking about how she felt after what had just occurred. It was different, and strange, but somehow good. She was glad she'd waited this long. Somehow it seemed more perfect. The setting, the guy, the age. Ginny had called her silly, but Hermione wasn't jealous of her friend at all. Ginny had done what was right for Ginny, and Hermione had done what was right for Hermione. “So. Ready for breakfast?”
The word breakfast seemed to perk Ron up.
“Or, you know, we have an hour before the cameras come back on.”
Hermione rolled her eyes lovingly and scooted off of the bed again, looking around the room for her jeans. She spotted them, then shoved Ron out of the room so she could put them on. He made a point of leaving the door open as he left, and for some reason, she didn't mind.
***
“I can't believe it's been three weeks since the last date.” Ginny said, sighing contently. “I mean, I'm not all that happy about my plan failing miserably. But it's also kind of nice that this is all over.”
“I know.” Hermione said. Having just been at Ron's house, she was feeling all tingly and happy. She couldn't help loving where their relationship was at the moment. He made her so happy- it never failed to surprise Hermione. “But we have the final episode, too.”
For her, it didn't really feel like it was over quite yet.
“That's right! I'll have to go shopping for another outfit... oh, by the way, did I tell you? I scheduled your blind date. It's two weeks from today.”
Hermione swung around, her mouth open.
“What? Ginny! I told you, I don't want to go on a blind date. I'm happy where I am.”
“Single?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well...” Hermione dithered on telling Ginny. But she wouldn't do it. She was going to tell her friend at the right time, when she wanted to. It was going to be her choice. She turned back to Ginny. Her best friend was staring at her, obviously waiting for a good answer. “Yes. Single. And loving it.”
“Well, I'm not loving it. By the time you get married, you won't be able to have babies anymore!”
“Ginny, at twenty four, I'm not exactly worried about fertility.”
“Hermione, look. I'm over the idea of you and Ron. I know that it's never going to happen.” Hermione avoided Ginny's eyes as she nodded slowly. “But I want you to be with someone!”
“These things take time, Ginny! Believe me, I'll find someone.”
“His name is Scott. He's hot, and he's a lawyer, just like you. Well, not just like you're, since you're in it for the bloodrights, but you know what I mean. Oh, and he has an independent firm. He doesn't work for the ministry. His only flaw is that he likes the Cannons...”
“Speaking of the Cannons, are you setting up a blind date for Ron?” Hermione asked, trying not to think about the appeal of having a partner in life that could share her adoration for her occupation.
“No. He's not over you yet.” Ginny told Hermione.
“All over me is more like it,” Hermione muttered under her breath, smiling to herself.
“Hmmm? What was that?” Ginny asked curiously.
“Oh. Um, nothing.”
“I think you just said that-”
“So, what should I wear on my date with Scott?” Hermione asked desperately.
“You'll go?” Ginny squealed.
“Fine.” Hermione said, feeling guilty already. “But you have to tell Ron!”
Sure enough, three hours later Hermione was greeted at Ron's with a colder smile than she had seen in a long time.
“I'm guessing Ginny was over here.”
“An hour ago.” Ron said indifferently. Then he closed his door, crossed his arms, and glared at Hermione.
“Ron, you know I don't want to do this!” Hermione cried before he could say anything to her. “The thing is, I practically let it slip that we've made love, and I had to distract her somehow.”
“Really? Is it on your mind that much?” Ron teased. Hermione put her hands on her hips and outright glared at him.
“Yes, but that is so not the point here!”
Ron laughed.
“Mione, just cancel. It'll be fine. Do it at the last minute!”
“But I never cancel!” Hermione wailed. “Ginny will see right through me, I know she will. Especially because he's exactly my type...”
“Really? Red hair, freckles, stupidly lovable?” Ron asked, an eyebrow raised. “I got the impression he was a brown haired lawyer.”
“You're not stupid, Ron.” Hermione snapped. “And you're not my type... but you're Ron.” She sighed and threw her hands up into the air. “I can't describe it. I really have no idea how to explain it.”
She was so agitated, Ron just stood there, watching her as she paced around, knowing it would be best if he just didn't say anything.
“You're not at all my type, but you're the only one I can fathom spending the rest of my life with. The only one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
She sighed, and stopped pacing, then turned toward Ron. His mouth was clamped together, arms crossed, as he stood in front of the fireplace. He gazed at her with dark, clouded eyes, as she walked closer to him. Not too close, but close enough.
“I love you, Ron. You have nothing to worry about. And I'm doing this for us. So we can tell when the time is... right.”
Half of his mouth slid into a grin, and he drew her to him and kissed the top of her head. She sighed contently and leaned against him, until, suddenly, he whispered into her ear.
“You know, you're awfully sexy when you're declaring your undying love for me.”
“As are you.” Hermione said, raising her face so her eyes could meet his.
“Really?” Ron asked. She nodded. “Well then. I have undying love for you.”
Laughing, Hermione brought her lips up to meet his.
“Well then, how bout you prove it?”
Ron was halfway to the bedroom by the time she said it.
***
“Ron, I really have to go now!” Hermione cried, attempting to get off of the couch. He caught her around the waist, however, and pulled her back toward him. She laughed, then slumped back against him. “Fine. But you have to find all my clothes while we're still on the couch.”
“Yeah, sure. That's what I'll be doing.” Ron said, kissing her neck. Hermione finally swatted him away and got up before he could do anything more.
“I'm going to be late for the date! It's bad enough that my hair got all messed up when I came over to say goodbye to you.”
“Hey! It takes two to tango!” Ron said indignantly. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Well, if one wasn't horny, the other one wouldn't have had any inclination to tango.”
“So you're blaming this all on me? Who knows? Maybe he'll like sex hair!”
“If only I could find my wand...” Hermione fretted, ignoring Ron and searching the room with her eyes. “Then I could fix my hair!”
“Why do you care so much?” Ron questioned. “I mean... you have a boyfriend.”
“But if he tells Ginny I'm not really trying, she'll figure it out like that!” Hermione snapped her fingers together to demonstrate her point.
“Mione, I'm kind of worried you're going over the edge. Ginny's brilliant, but she's not Einstein. And she won't find what she isn't looking for.”
“Mmhhmm. I agree, Ron.” Hermione said, grabbing her wand and pointing it at her hair. It immediately brushed out.
“HERMIONE! Why are you trying so hard?” Ron's voice was so impatient and furious, Hermione had to turn around and look at him.
“I... I don't know.”
“Is there something wrong with me? Am I not good enough? It can't just be that I'm not your type!”
Hermione turned to Ron, stung.
“That is not what I was trying to say. And that was two weeks ago! You can't hold it against me.”
“Watch me!” Ron yelled. “God, Hermione. This is the first time in seven years that you'll be going on a date with someone that isn't me. And the thing is, you're with me! Did you ever pause to consider the fact that I might be jealous? That the fact that you're trying so hard might be hurting me?”
Hermione paused. Then she turned to Ron with wide eyes, speaking in a small voice.
“No. It hadn't really occurred to me. But I get it, Ron.”
“Do you not realize that the fact that I am irrevocably in love with you is making it hard for me to see you all dolled up to go on a date with someone who isn't me?”
“I said I get it, Ron!”
“Do you?” Ron asked, looking at her with hurt eyes. “What if I was in here, preparing for a date? What if I was putting on your favorite shirt and your favorite cologne and freaking out over the state of my hair? Would you think everything was all hunky-dory?”
Seeing Ron wear his feelings so obviously on his sleeve never failed to disarm Hermione. She stared at him with an open mouth.
“Would you?” Ron demanded, oblivious to Hermione's reaction.
“No! I wouldn't! But I'm going on this date, and I promise not to let anything happen. What, do you not trust me or something?”
“Of course I... wow, Hermione, you really know how to make me the bad guy.” he shook his head in disbelief.
“What do you expect me to do, Ronald?” Hermione shouted.
“Don't go. If I mean anything to you at all, don't go.” Ron said quietly. Hermione shook her head and stepped forward, then leaned in to kiss Ron.
“Ron. You mean the world to me. But I have to do this.”
She backed away, then headed towards the door.
“What if you fall for him?” Ron asked in a pleading voice.
“I won't.” Hermione turned toward Ron, smiling at him even though he was at his most vulnerable.
“How do you know?”
“He's not you.”
But she couldn't help feeling like she was making the wrong decision as she turned the knob and closed the door on his still devastatingly sad face.
“Wow. You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” Hermione answered, looking around distractedly. She cleared her throat and looked back at Scott. Ginny was right. He was extremely handsome. He had cheek dimples when he smiled. His olive skin was tanned from merlin knew what. He was toned and muscled, and had curly brown hair that fell over his eyes in an absolute perfect way. But all Hermione could think about saying was 'My god, what am I doing to Ron?'. She couldn't begin to fathom how he was feeling at the moment. The thought of him holed up glumly in his house was almost too much for her to even think about. Her stomach was aching with nerves, but not about her date. Nerves about her boyfriend, who was currently thinking that she didn't love him. But she did. She so, so did!
“I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty at this.” Scott said, flashing a white, straight smile at her. Dear god. He was too perfect! “I haven't dated since my wife left me.”
He hung his head, and a few curls fell into his eyes.
“She cheated on me with some guy... I don't even know who he is. Which is good because I would probably kill the bastard if I ever met him.”
“I'm so sorry.” Hermione said, glancing at her watch. She'd been there for ten minutes. That was it? It seemed like forever! She took a sip of water and tried to seem natural.
“It's alright. Alyssa was beautiful, but she wasn't the smartest woman. She could never keep up with me, intellectually.”
Hermione spat out her drink, right into Scott's recently pressed dress shirt. He immediately started mopping it up.
“Oh, I'm so sorry.” Hermione cried, grabbing her napkin and jumping up to help Scott.
He gave her a grin.
“It's quite alright.”
“Er- did you just say your wife's name was Alyssa?”
“Ex wife. And yes.”
“I'm sorry, Scott, I seem to have forgotten your last name. What did you say it was?”
“My, my, not the best at names, are we?” Scott laughed, not unkindly. “We'll have to work on that.” His eyes twinkled at her. “But it's Jefferson.”
“Oh my god!” Hermione said, her eyes wide. “She's the woman who got Ron drunk! She tried to sleep with him!”
Her head spun, and Hermione swayed on the spot. She was sitting in a restaurant with the guy that was married to the woman who had tried to seduce Ron. She was sitting in a restaurant with the guy that was married to the woman who had tried to seduce Ron! Luckily, Scott caught her before she could fall.
“You must be wrong. Alyssa cheated on me with a guy named Shawn.”
“And a guy named Ron!”
“Are you sure?” Scott asked, frowning.
“Glossy brown hair? Tall, thin? Wears tons of lip gloss?”
“Er- that sounds a lot like her.”
“I'm sure.”
“Who's this Ron guy?”
“He's my boy... he's my ex boyfriend?”
“Really?” Scott asked, his eyes wide.
“No! Not really. He's the man I'm in love with! I'm sorry, Scott. I really have to go!”
She ran to the back of the restaurant, pushed open the bathroom door. Breathing hard, she leaned against the mirror. What was she doing? She had to tell Ginny! She had to tell everyone! Why was she hiding this perfect relationship? Why wasn't she forcing Ron to marry her at this point? Okay, the last one was a little dramatic. But, god, how stupid was she to go on a date when Ron asked her not to? Had she forgotten how he had made her feel since she was just thirteen years old? How, the first time she'd held his hand when Harry had first met Buckbeak, she'd let out an audible gasp at the electric current it sent running through her body? And their first kiss, their first hug, their first everything! And their seconds and thirds, too. How could she had forgotten, in just a few short weeks, how she had felt after they'd made love for the first time? What was she doing? Quickly, Hermione got out a pen and a piece of parchment, then started scribbling a note to Ginny.
Ginny- you set me up with the husband of the woman Ron almost cheated on me with. You know, Alyssa? The one that got him drunk? Well, it made me realize something. I have to tell you something. Come to my flat as soon as you can! ~Hermione.
In her haste, her letters were messy and disoriented, but she didn't have time to care. She quickly scanned the note, before apparating home and giving it to her owl. Then she flooed to Ron's house. All the lights were off. Hermione bounded up the steps and knocked quickly and loudly on the door. A few seconds later, it opened, and Ron stood there, looking disheveled and exhausted in a ripped tee shirt and the same pair of jeans he had been wearing when Hermione had arrived earlier that night. It looked as though he had been constantly ruffling his hair. Little pieces were sticking up everywhere. His face looked pale, and he seemed tired. As he looked at her, relief washed over his face, and he ran a hand through his hair once more.
“Hermione.” he said, and that was all. She rushed into his arms, melted into him. “It didn't last very long, did it?”
But an overwhelming sense of love and passion had taken over Hermione, and she shook her head as she reached up to kiss Ron. Her lips traveled over the soft underside of his arm, to his shoulder and neck, to his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and, finally, his lips.
“I love you,” she murmured against him. “Oh, god, you wouldn't believe how much I love you!”
Ron was starting to grin, and he seemed slightly amused.
“You just realized that?”
“Well, I knew... but suddenly it just hit me so powerfully the restaurant seemed stifling,” she said, using words that she knew were dramatic but somehow seemed fitting.
“It didn't hit you that powerfully when we were shagging?” Ron joked. Hermione nodded.
“Well, it did, but... sometimes you need a reminder. Did you ever just have this moment when something hit you so much you were shocked? Like, you'd consciously known it before, but I love you was just starting to become words. And then I saw this man, and his wife cheated on him with you, and I realized that he could never have her again, even if he still loved her, but I could have you, and by not telling people and going on this date I was almost... using you. So, we're telling everyone.”
“Thank god!” Ron sang, pressing her face to his chest. “But- wait- me?”
“Long story. No time.” Hermione said, kissing Ron so furiously he had absolutely no choice but to kiss her back.
Hours later, they were lying in Ron's room together, Hermione's head on Ron's chest. They were discussing how best to tell everyone they were together, and just enjoying the sounds of the other breathing. Both were just about asleep, but it was nice to be staying up and talking like this.
“I think the best thing to do would be to tell everyone at Sunday night dinner at the Burrow.” Hermione suggested.
“It's Friday. Doesn't that seem too long?” Ron asked. “Besides, who said you were invited?”
This was obviously a joke. Hermione came to every Sunday night dinner that Mrs. Weasley hosted.
“Yes. But tomorrow we have the taping of the final episode. It's live.” Hermione sat up, looking suddenly awake. “I should go. You're never going to let me get to sleep, and I don't want to look like a hag on live television.”
“You could never look like a hag!” Ron argued.
“I think you're a little bias, sweetheart,” Hermione teased.
“Yes, that, and, Ginny would never let you go out there without the perfect amount of concealing makeup.”
Hermione hit him with a pillow, then sighed.
“Well, no matter how much makeup, I could still embarrass myself,” she said worriedly. “It's best if I just go home.”
“Fine.” Ron sighed, kissing the top of her head. “I'll see you tomorrow. Ready to reveal our undying and unyielding love for each other on live television?”
“You bet. I'm glad that your family isn't watching the show until we get to their house. Then we can tell them before they see it on TV.”
Ron nodded happily, and Hermione got up, then pulled on her shorts.
“Um... Ron, have you seen my shirt?” she asked suddenly.
“No...” Ron said. He leaned up as though he was doing a crunch or a sit up, then stayed in that position and looked around. Hermione halfheartedly attempted not to stare at his abs. “Here, just take one of mine.”
He searched the floor for a few seconds, then grabbed a Chudley Cannons tee-shirt and tossed it to Hermione. She went over to the light switch to put it on, but Ron put his hands up over his eyes and said,
“No!”
“What? You want me to dress in the dark?” Hermione asked, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice.
“That's the idea.” Ron said, and when he noticed Hermione's moonlit glare, “What? No one's going to see you!”
Shrugging, Hermione put the shirt on. She walked over to Ron to kiss him goodbye, and exited the house through floo powder so she wouldn't wake anyone up with the loud crack of apparation. As soon as she got out of the fireplace, she stumbled exhaustively into the kitchen, looking for a drink of water. Then she let out a loud yelp. Ginny was currently occupying one out of two chairs, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, eyes narrowed angrily.
“Er- hi, Ginny.” Hermione said, raising a hand to rub her eye.
“Hermione Jean Granger. I have been here for hours, after receiving a very interesting letter from you.”
Crap.
“I came over just as soon as I got it, to hear some news, and comfort a friend in need. It is three o'clock in the morning. Where the hell have you been? And why is your hair so messy?”
“I-” Hermione started helplessly. But she was saved by Ginny's eyes zooming in on her shirt.
“Hermione... why is your shirt inside out and backwards?”
“I got dressed in the dark,” Hermione was pretty sure this was going to be the only truth she told tonight, unless Ginny decided to choose that moment to become incurious and stop asking questions. But instead, Ginny stood up, circling Hermione like a predator circled her prey.
“Hold on... is that a Chudley Cannons shirt?” Hermione's eyes met Ginny's, whose eyes widened. Then, suddenly, she let out a delighted and incredulous laugh, and jumped up and down. “Hermione! I had no idea you were the type of girl that put out on the first date. Congratulations!”
Ginny swooped in to hug Hermione, and her stomach unknotted itself. It was okay. It was going to be fine. Ginny would find out at the Burrow with everyone else, when both she and Ron were there. But, just then, Ginny took in a deep, satisfied breath. And then she stopped breathing.
“Wait a minute.” she said, slowly backing away. “Oh my god. That shirt doesn't smell like Scott. It smells like...”
She took another whiff. Hermione cringed.
“RON! Oh my god! You had sex with Ron? But you're not with him! You hate him! Were you drunk? No...”
Realization was suddenly dawning over Ginny's features.
“You didn't want to go on the date with Scott. You were in love with Ron again, but then you hated him worse than before. You asked if I was setting him up on a date, too... oh my god, Hermione. You're back together with Ron!”
The single, sorry tear rolling down Hermione's cheek was all the confirmation Ginny needed.
“How long?” Ginny asked, her face openly wounded.
“Since the Hogwarts Reunion.” Hermione said, choking on her words. She grabbed Ginny's hand. “Ginny, I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to find out this way! Everyone was going to find out on Sunday at dinner at the Burrow.”
Ginny jerked her hand away.
“I'm your best friend, Hermione. I'm not everyone.”
“Ginny...”
“I'm going home now. I'm really... happy for you two.”
There was an awkward pause during which they both let tears roll down their cheeks, then Ginny walked over to the fireplace and flooed home. After she had gone, Hermione sat down in the chair and tried to be still. She couldn't do it. She went to the living room and tried to read a book, but couldn't do it. She tried to go to sleep, but there was absolutely no chance in that. The whole thing only took an exhausting forty-five minutes before Hermione got out of bed, threw floo powder into the fireplace, stepped in, and shouted Ron's address. Then she spun into his home, and rushed to his room. He was sleeping peacefully, the moonlight splayed out across his face. Hermione crawled into bed next to him and placed her head on his chest. An eye peaked open, and Ron looked groggily up at her.
“Mione? What're you doing here?”
“I just needed to be with you. I'll explain in the morning.”
“Mmmm.” Ron said, leaning into her palm. “M'kay. You alright?”
“Go back to sleep, love. Every thing's fine.”
“I uv ooh.” Ron sighed contently, and in a few minutes, his comforting and familiar snores filled the room.
A/N: Oh my god! OVER 500 REVIEWS! You guys are amazing!!! I never dreamed that this story would get so many reviews when I submitted the first chapter. I can't believe it! On the flipside, the last chapter got hated on more than any other chapter I've ever written... apparently you have no faith in either the way I write Hermione or my love of the ship :) But, hey, I think I salvaged this! She didn't fall in love with Scott, she went right back to Ron, and was thinking about her actual boyfriend the whole time... all good, yeah? I actually just saw an interview where JKR said that Ron was more loved than Harry... I guess she's right, although to be honest I think I've met more Harry lovers than Ron lovers in my RL. Anyways, I hope you'll review and tell me what you think! ~writergirl8
Ginny Potter was not in the happiest of moods. She had just found out that her best friend had been lying to her for months, and so had her brother. As if this weren't bad enough, she'd apparently had some bad sushi that night for dinner, because she'd rushed to the toilet and thrown up as soon as she'd gotten home from Hermione's place. Or maybe that was just her getting her ex friend out of her system. Anyway, whatever the contributing factors, there was only one thing Ginny knew for sure. She was in a terrible mood. So, when she had the chance to come home and wake up her husband, and possibly fight with him, Ginny was absolutely going to take it. She flushed the toilet several times, then slammed the lid down as loud as she could. She went to the kitchen, turned the water on as high as it would go, then started washing pots and pans by hand. It helped, for her, that she got to bang them on the counter when she was finished washing. This, however, did not help her husband. If there was one thing Harry Potter valued, it was sleep. During the Horcrux Hunt, he'd realized that, by going to sleep, hunger could almost be forgotten, headaches possibly avoided, moods improved. He had not been taking either food or sleep for granted since he had defeated Lord Voldemort five years ago. But right now, one thing he was taking for granted was his wife.
“Ginny! It's three in the morning! What are you doing?”
“I'm cleaning.” Ginny said, defiantly slamming a pot down onto the kitchen counter.
“Yes but... weren't you going to Hermione's?”
“Don't even mention that bitch's name around here!”
“Umm... Ginny, does this have anything to do with the state of Ron and Hermione's relationship?” Harry asked bravely. The water turned off, and a red faced Ginny turned toward Harry.
“You knew?” she asked, and he nodded his head slowly. “You knew, and you didn't even tell me!”
“I'm sorry. I found out by accident, and-”
“I'm your wife! You've been lying to me! What else did you lie about?”
“Nothing! That's it. They asked me to lie, Ginny. And you know I didn't want to. But what was I supposed to do? Betray them?”
When Ginny spoke, her voice was trembling.
“For the first seven years I knew you, you always put them first. To the extent that you didn't even realize I was there, practically. In my fifth year, you put them first, even though we were dating. In my sixth year, although I pleaded for you to bring me with you, you wouldn't let me come on the hunt. Once again you put them first. I'd have thought that, five years later, as your wife, you'd put me first. But you still care about them more.”
“How the hell could you say that Ginny? You're my wife!”
“Maybe you should have married Ron or Hermione.” Ginny cried.
“Don't be an idiot, Ginny. I'm not attracted to either of them.”
Ginny let out a laugh, but it was cold.
“Then why do you act like they're your everything? Why did you let them bully you into not telling me something? Especially something that I deserved to know!”
“Gin, it's two against one. What was I supposed to do? Ron's the best trained field Auror, and Hermione can perform any spell you ask her to without blinking an eyelash.”
“You know what? Screw this. I'm going over to Ron's to yell at him.” Ginny said. Then she snatched up her wand, turned on the spot, and apparated over to her brother's house. Perhaps she could kick him out. It was her place, after all. Just because he was paying rent to her and Harry, it didn't mean Ron couldn't be kicked out of the place. Ginny stepped on the carpet and marched over to Ron's room. She opened the door a crack and peaked in. Hermione was there, lovingly and tenderly stroking Ron's face. Slowly, he lifted an eye up to look at her.
“Mione? What're you doing here?”
Ginny smiled. She hadn't heard her brother's voice so tender in a while.
“I just needed to be with you. I'll explain in the morning.”
And when had Hermione's voice been so sweet? Ginny didn't think she'd ever heard the soft way Hermione spoke to Ron ever before.
“Mmmm.” Ron said, leaning into Hermione's palm. “M'kay. You alright?”
“Go back to sleep, love. Every thing's fine.”
“I uv ooh.” Ron sighed. Ginny backed away before she could hear anything more. In that small, tender moment, she'd realized why Ron and Hermione had tried to hide their relationship. They were so different around just each other than they were each other and other people. And suddenly, like that, all was forgiven. So Ginny headed home, crawled into bed next to her husband, and tried not to think about her bad sushi as she drifted off to sleep.
***
“Wake up, Ron! We have to be at the studio in twenty minutes.”
“Remind me why again?” Ron asked, his eyes still closed.
“Because the last episode is being taped live there in an hour.” Hermione said, giving his lips a quick peck.
“You're not really helping your own case, you know.”
Hermione laughed.
“Well, I'm leaving. And I'm taking the covers.” Hermione said, grabbing the covers before Ron could get them. He immediately sat up, his eyes wide.
“You wouldn't.”
“Get up, Ron.” Hermione grinned.
“Fine.” Ron grumped. “But I'm taking a shower. Care to join me?”
“Tempting, but no.” Hermione said. “Ginny'll probably wash my hair. If she's still talking to me.” Hermione had filled Ron in on the whole incident when they'd both woken up around seven, then decided to go back to sleep. “Besides, if I do, you'll be in there way too long.”
“True.” Ron said, shrugging. Hermione sighed happily and walked into his kitchen to get something to eat. She was surprised when she saw a bunch of her favorite yogurts in there. When Ron walked into the kitchen ten minutes later, drying his hair with a towel, Hermione was just finishing up.
“I thought you hated these?” Hermione asked, holding the carton up.
“Oh, good, you saw those.” He said, grinning at her.
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, I got them for you.” Ron said. “So you'd have something to eat over here. Check the freezer.”
Hermione, bewildered and pleased, walked over to the freezer, then pulled the door open to see a large carton of triple chocolate ice cream.
A half an hour later, they apparated to the studio, Hermione still over the moon. As soon as she saw Ginny, however, the smile vanished from her face, replaced with a look of concern. But instead of being angry, Ginny rushed over to her, a large smile on her face. She tackled Hermione into a hug, then brought Ron into it.
“I'm so happy for you guys!” she squealed. “I really am!”
“Thank you!” Hermione and Ron said at the same time, both with equally shocked voices.
“Now, Hermione, come on!” Ginny cried, pulling Hermione away from Ron. “I have the perfect dress for you!”
After lots of prepping, Hermione was finally shoved onto the stage, where she was greeted happily by Colin Love. He gave her a one armed hug, then grabbed Ron with the other arm.
“Are you ready for the absolute final chapter of 'The Perfect Match'?” Colin asked, smiling toothily.
“Definitely.” Hermione nodded.
“Yep.” Ron said. They glanced at each other and tried not to burst out laughing.
Colin brought out all the questions. Hermione and Ron answered all of them perfectly. They knew each other too well. Both of them ended up being winners. When the questions were over, the lights dimmed, and a screen came down. Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised glances, as suddenly pictures of them at age elven appeared on the screen. Hermione in her school robes, and on her way to Hogwarts, Ron proudly holding up Scabbers. Second year, Hermione and Ron posing next to each other by the lake. Third year, a picture with Harry in the middle, and Ron and Hermione each clutching pets tightly on either side, not even thinking about looking at each other. Fourth year, Hermione standing next to Viktor Krum, looking simply radiant. Then, her eyes red, arguing with Ron.
“Who would bother to take that picture?” Ron asked, his breath tickling Hermione's neck.
“No idea.” Hermione said, fascinated by the tears running down her own cheeks in the picture.
Fifth year, a picture of Hermione defeating Ron in nonverbal jinxes during a Dumbledore's Army session. Sixth year, Ron with Lavender, staring at Hermione wistfully as she concentrated on her homework. Tons of newspaper clippings that featured them as exhausted seventeen year olds, posing after the war. And then clips of them in their flat together, holding hands, kissing, laughing. Then, finally, clips from them on their dates during the game show, even some parts that Hermione wished they wouldn't show. When the video was done, the whole audience stood up and clapped. Then Colin got up to speak, and they all sat down, hushing immediately.
“Has this game show changed the way you look at each other at all?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes.” Ron and Hermione said the same time.
“Well, is there anything you would like to tell us, Hermione?”
Hermione smiled at Ron, then reached for his hand.
“Actually, there is. Ron and I are together.”
The whole audience jumped up and started screaming. Hermione, taken aback, looked around to try to see the cause of all the hostility. But then she realized that it wasn't hostility. They were all thrilled. Ginny was in the front row, crying, and Harry was beaming at his friends. Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from crying. This moment was absolutely amazing.
The audience didn't stop cheering for another ten minutes. When they did, a laughing Colin turned to Ron and asked him the same question as he had just asked Hermione.
“Is there anything you would like to say, Mr. Weasley?” Colin questioned.
“Yes, there is, actually.” Ron said. Hermione, surprised, dropped his hand and turned toward him. And that was when he got onto his knee. Hermione's heart stopped beating as he pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful, sparkly engagement ring. It was small and pear shaped, with tiny blue sapphires outlining the edges.
“Oh my god.” Hermione said, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the box. She quickly closed it, remembering her manners. The audience was silent. You could hear a pin drop.
“Hermione Jean Granger,” Ron said, grinning up at her. “You've made my life so brilliant and colorful and amazing. Even when you make me hopping mad, I can't resist loving you. And although we've gone to bed angry way too many times, I'd like you to give me an eternity of waking up forgiving. So, Hermione, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her stomach had a terrible, nagging feeling in it. Hermione looked down at Ron, smiling so widely at her, so happy. And so she opened her mouth to give the answer she was almost positive Ron wouldn't want to hear.
“Yes.”
The audience exploded, and Ginny ran up onto the stage to engulf her friend in hugs. Harry, laughing to himself, came up to clap Ron on the back. But, as Ron slid the ring onto Hermione's finger, he couldn't help noticing that her smile wasn't all there. He gave her an inquisitive glance, but she avoided his eyes, looking instead toward Harry so that she could give him a hug. Colin gave the signal to the stagehands, and confetti fell everywhere. Finally, Colin sauntered up to the edge of the stage, and said into the microphone,
“And that concludes season ten of The Perfect Match.”
The cameras stopped rolling, and Colin dashed up to Ron and Hermione and gave them each a hug.
“Congratulations, you two. You guys will make each other very happy. I just know it.”
And then Ron and Hermione walked off to the dressing rooms to change back into their street clothes. But instead of turning to go to his own room, Ron followed Hermione into hers and shut the door behind him, locking it firmly.
“What's wrong, Mione?” he said, looking into her eyes.
“Nothing. Every thing's great.” Hermione said brightly. Ron cupped her chin in his hand.
“Hermione Granger, that is not the face of a woman who just got engaged to the man she claims to love with all her heart.”
Hermione sighed and deflated.
“It's just that... well, are you sure? Did the game show ask you to propose to me? Is that why you did it? For a happy ending and better ratings?”
Ron's mouth dropped open.
“You think that's why I just proposed to you, Hermione?” he said, his eyes wide. “No! I thought that it would be romantic to do it here, on stage... well, apparently I was wrong. Sorry about that... but Mione, I've had this ring since before we broke up. I was going to propose to you in September, on your birthday, but we weren't together. I'd been shopping for rings for months beforehand, and I'd just found this one the day before you broke up with me. Obviously, I didn't want to be rushed in finding a ring, so I decided to get one months ahead.”
“Oh my god. Ron, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to doubt you like that, I just...”
“It felt like it was too good, didn't it?”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
Ron grinned, and took her hand.
“I want to show you something.”
He led her out of the studio and to the back lot. Then he apparated to Godric's Hollow.
“Ron, we've been here before. You're not showing me anything new. And I'm pretty sure Harry and Ginny aren't home yet.”
“We're not here to see Harry and Ginny.” Ron said, glancing sideways at Hermione as he led her down the street. “Do me a favor and close your eyes, eh?”
“Um... okay.” Hermione said, her eyelids sliding shut. Ron guided her down the street until he finally positioned her in the proper direction.
“Open your eyes.” he whispered into her ear. So she opened them.
“Oh. It's that house I liked.” Hermione said, something feeling off in her stomach. “It's nice, Ginny and I-”
But her breath suddenly caught in her throat. Ron had just placed a cold, metal key in her hand.
“Ron?”
He nodded, inviting her to ask her question.
“Ron, how did you get the key to this house?”
“It was easy. Cuz, I own it, you see.”
In a second, Hermione had turned around and was covering Ron in kisses.
“Oh my god! YOU BOUGHT ME A HOUSE! A HOUSE THAT I WANTED! YOU BOUGHT ME MY DREAM HOUSE!”
“Er- yeah.” Ron said, laughing. “I'm glad you like it. Happy belated birthday.” He teased.
“Ron!” Hermione screamed, running through the white fence and up the pathway, into the house. “Oh my god! My furniture will not work here... we'll have to go shopping...”
“You're forgetting all the money we got paid for doing the game show.” Ron said, following his excited fiancée into the house and pulling the door closed behind him. “We can buy new furniture with that.”
Hermione jumped up and down and let out an excited scream. When she finally stopped, she flew into Ron's arms again.
“Sorry. Too many good things at one time. I can't believe we're getting married! And we're going to live here!”
“And we're going to host birthday parties here, and summer parties here, and have our anniversaries here, and raise our children here...”
With that, Hermione flew up the stairs and started picking out rooms.
“Let's see... that's going to be our room... and that'll be our first baby's room... and that'll be our second baby's room, and... well, we'll need to repaint that one, but the twins that we'll have third can share that room.”
“Er- Hermione, I think you're jumping the gun a little bit.” Ron said.
“You're right. We should probably get started painting now, though, just in case. Do you think the twins will want Babbity Rabbity wall paper, or would they rather have the Fountain of Fair Fortune?”
“I could try to stop you, but it's probably a moot point,” Ron muttered under his breath.
“What did you just say?” Hermione asked, her face pink with excitement.
“Nothing, honey.” Ron said, smiling lovingly. Hermione grinned back, then turned around and continued trying to decide whether or not the crib should be white. “However... I might as well try.” He murmured, before speaking again in a louder voice, “Hermione? Why don't we start making wedding plans before we think about babies.”
Hermione seemed torn, but after a while Ron's suggestion won out in favor of talking about the Honeymoon.
***
After a few hours of discussing their wedding, Hermione grew tired and fell asleep. Ron watched her, thinking about that day and how crazy it had been. Sure, Hermione was a bit controlling of their future. But he was actually looking forward to it. He smiled as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, then started thinking about the video they had watched during the game show. He remembered seeing her go crazy in Italy, and that brought him back to how he had promised to himself that he would bring her back someday. Suddenly, a plan formed in his head. Ron shook Hermione awake, and she groaned and opened her eyes.
“What?” she asked. “Is your mum on fire? Is the flat coming to visit?”
“No. Hermione, get up, and put on some more suitable clothes.” Ron said, tugging on the tank top Hermione was wearing as her pajama top.
“Why?” Hermione asked, suddenly awake.
“I'm taking you somewhere.” Ron said, grinning down at her. “And I'm going to give you an even better proposal.”
“Ron, you've already proposed. You got the girl. Yippee. Now let her sleep.”
“No. You didn't believe me the first time.”
“I believe you now.”
“I know, but it has to be perfect. Come on. We don't know how long it's going to be until I start forgetting how to be romantic. Don't you want to take advantage of me now?”
“No, but maybe in the morning.” Hermione muttered, turning over. In a few seconds, Ron had pulled the covers off of her. “Gahh! I knew that was going to come back and bite me in the arse!” Hermione cried, finally sitting up.
“Well, now that you're here.” Ron said, smiling. “Be ready to leave in twenty minutes.”
So Hermione stumbled out of bed, got dressed, brushed her teeth and hair, then made it back to the living room, where Ron was waiting, wearing a fleece jacket.
“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, taking hold of his arm.
“The Leaning Tower of Pizza.” Ron said. And before Hermione could even begin to try to comprehend what that meant, Ron had turned his heal and taken off. Soon, they were in Italy, right in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Hermione looked around, taking in the tower and the setting. By the time her eyes reached Ron's, he was already on his knee again, his mouth formed into a lopsided smile.
“I promised I would bring you back here someday. And so here we are.”
“Ron-” Hermione started, but he held his hand and cut her off.
“Would you please, pretty please, with a knut on top, marry me?”
“Hmmm.” Hermione stood there like she was thinking about it. “Will you buy me a house?”
“Consider it done.” Ron said, his eyes twinkling.
“Then of course!” Hermione said, kneeling as well and placing her lips firmly on Ron's. When she was finished kissing him, she pulled back and smiled. “Now that was a proposal. I don't think I've ever heard anyone use pretty please with a knut on top. So original!”
Ron frowned, his brows creasing together.
“Should I have said sickle?”
***
The next day, Hermione headed to Betty's shop, her heart beating happily as she ran down the street. She burst through the door of the woman's shop, screaming her name. Betty walked into the front of her store, saw Hermione jumping up and down, and immediately realized what was going on.
“He asked? He asked? You're getting married! Oh, Hermione, that's brilliant!” Betty said, and Hermione flew into her arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“I'm going to be needing that beautiful dress you made for me, Betty.”
“I already had it made. I'll just go and get it.” Betty said, grinning at Hermione. Hermione's heart stopped when she saw the dress. It was even more beautiful in real form then it had been on paper.
“Oh my god, Betty. This is so gorgeous!” Hermione cried, grabbing the dress and handing Betty her money. “And of course, you're invited to the wedding.”
“I'll be waiting for my invite.” Betty said, smiling at her favorite customer. “Would you like to stay for tea, tell me how it all happened?”
Hermione looked at her regretfully.
“I can't. I'm working today, because I don't want to work on Monday, and I'm on my lunch break right now. I have to get back to work, though. By the way, don't tell Molly. We're telling the Weasley clan tonight at dinner. The only people who know are Harry and Ginny.”
“Aye, aye, captin.” Betty said, waving Hermione out of the shop.
She exited the store and apparated back to her home, then dropped the dress in a closet. Just as she was about to leave, Ron popped into the flat.
“Ron?” Hermione said, frowning. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, hi! I wasn't expecting to meet you, thought you'd be at work.”
“I went to pick something up from Betty.” Hermione said, grinning shyly.
“Betty? Mum's old friend? The wedding dress... oh! Can I see it?”
“That would be a no.” Hermione said, wagging her finger at him.
“Ah, well. I came with a message from Ginny. I was just gonna write it, but... don't come over tonight, she's feeling sick again.”
“Again?” Hermione asked, looking worried.
“Yeah.” Ron said. “Hey, you still have twenty-five minutes to your lunch break, right?”
“Yes...” Hermione said suspiciously.
“Well, I can think of a lot of excellent activities that can be done within those few-”
But before he could say anything else, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and started kissing him. Ron, seeming pleased that she had read his mind so quickly, kissed her back hard, and assisted her as she started to take his shirt off. She ran her hands up his chest, then pulled back, looking excited.
“I've just remembered! You promised to tell me why you worked out so much you got that six pack! We're engaged, so you have to tell me now!” she said triumphantly.
“Er- can we do that after?” Ron asked, going in to kiss her neck. “Your excitement over getting engaged has resulted in the best sex we've ever had, and seeing as you just got the wedding dress, you're bound to be-”
“No.” Hermione replied, sitting down on a kitchen chair.
“Fine.” Ron said, and then he sat down, too, and Hermione pleasurably noticed that he didn't put his shirt back on. “Remember the second date we went on for The Perfect Match? Well, the guy you talked to... his girlfriend showed me a picture of him shirtless. Bit creepy, really. Anyway. I saw you flirting with him and being all blushy and giggly over his love for books, and I thought it might be only because he was- apparently- so good looking. So, I vowed that I would get abs just as good as his. And I did.”
He finished somewhat smugly, and Hermione looked back at him with an amused air. She went over to the chair he was sitting in and sat on his lap, then leaned down to give him a sweet, tender kiss.
“Ronald Weasley, the is the most jealous, unnecessary, and insane thing I have ever heard in my life.” she said in a scolding voice. Then she smiled, and her voice dropped to a whisper that made Ron shiver pleasurably. “But it was so, so sweet.”
And then they stopped talking about it in favor of making the most of Hermione's lunch break.
A/N: Haha, I totally got you guys! Okay, so, a few things to say. One, thanks for being so patient whilst waiting for this chapter. Two, to those of you who threatened me or had heart attacks, I'm very glad you're so invested in this story. And three, for those who thought they shouldn't get married... well, I see where you're coming from, but I feel that they're ready. ~writergirl8
“I don't think I can do this.” Hermione said, turning to Ron and looking at him with wild eyes.
“Why?” Ron asked lazily, flipping a page in his Quidditch magazine.
“What if they get mad at us?” Hermione asked in a pleading voice. “I mean, we've been together forever, and they didn't know. We didn't tell them. What if they all react like Ginny?”
“They won't. They want us together too badly. And they won't take it quite as personally.”
Hermione turned back to the mirror with the same worried look and checked over her outfit. She was wearing a white button down collared shirt, the kind men usually wore. It was buttoned almost to the top to reveal a navy blue tank top underneath. As a bottom she was wearing a navy blue skirt. It was short, and it rose up whenever she spun. She couldn't wait to shove her adorable outfit in Ginny's face. She'd probably say something like,
“See Ginny! I can dress myself.”
Then again, Hermione didn't want to be sassing anyone tonight. She needed everyone on her side for this dinner. Although she wasn't willing to take off her engagement ring (despite Ginny's pleas), Hermione was sure no one would realize she and Ron were together. He'd made her promise that she would be the one to announce that they were engaged (he was going to be the one to drop the bomb that they were back together) and in turn Hermione had made him promise not to 'accidentally' trip her and force her to sit on his lap. Although he was probably going to be doing that anyway.
“You have to wear such a short skirt?” Ron asked Hermione, bringing her out of her thoughts.
“Ron, it's not shorter than the place my fingertips reach when I put them on my legs!” Hermione said, looking over the skirt again with frantic eyes. “Why? Is it too short? IS IT?”
“No... sweetheart, calm down. It's fine. I was just teasing you.”
“Not the right time, Ronald!” she moaned, dropping onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.
“Hermione, love, what's the problem? You told me that furniture shopping for the new house would make you less nervous, so we went. But I think you're worse.” Ron said, crawling over to her and massaging her shoulders.
“I know. It's just that... well, I can't help feeling guilty. Like we did something bad by not telling them.”
“Hey, it was your idea.” Ron said, shrugging. Hermione whirled around.
“Not helping!” she growled, falling back onto the bed and messing up her recently brushed-out hair. Ron inhaled her perfume, then fell back with her. He looked at her, and she looked at him. Their noses were so close they were touching.
“It's going to be fine. You'll see. Everything works out in the end.”
“When's the end?”
“Tonight. Everything works out tonight.”
“How is tonight an end?” Hermione asked, her eyebrow raised. “Isn't it a beginning?”
“In a way, every end is a beginning. Isn't it?”
Hermione's mouth dropped open.
“Ron. That was smart...” Hermione started. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Oh my god. You genius! You total, absolute, complete genius!”
“Er- thanks. Why?”
“You just solved the Robinson case! YOU SOLVED IT! I know how to win now! I FOUND A LOOPHOLE!”
She kissed him on the lips, and Ron, still shocked, kissed her back with his eyes open.
“I don't get it.” he said, watching Hermione leap off of the bed and run into the room that was her office.
“I have to do some reasearch- I'll be out in a half an hour!” she called as the door slammed shut.
She emerged an hour later with her shirt eschew, her hair a mess, but her grin lighting up her face. Ron, who had been expecting this, wordlessly handed her a hairbrush. Her smile somehow widened as she started yanking it through her hair. When she was finished, she uncharacteristically threw it onto the couch, then handed Ron the floo powder pot. After giving him a quick kiss on the lips, she opened the door and headed out. They weren't traveling to the Burrow together because they wanted to be able to tell the Weasleys after dinner, when everyone was together instead of in separate areas of the house. And arriving together might give that away. Ron left first, throwing powder into the fireplace and shouting his address into the air. Soon, he had spun out of the fireplace and into the kitchen. After giving his mum a hug, Ron headed into the living room, where Bill and Fleur were doting over Victoire. Suddenly, there was a loud crack, then a knock on the door. Mr. Weasley hurried over to it, then opened it to reveal Hermione.
“Hi, Mr. Weasley!” Hermione said, giving him a hug.
“Are you ever going to start calling me Arthur?” Mr. Weasley asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Um... probably not. But I have time to practice.” Hermione said, catching Ron's eye and grinning. Mr. Weasley grinned too. Then Hermione headed into the kitchen and gave Mrs. Weasley a hug, before grabbing an apron and starting to wash lettuce. Ron loved watching Hermione cook, so he walked over to the kitchen to 'chat with his mum'. Hermione had this adorable look on her face, because she always had to concentrate really hard on her recipe. After the horcrux hunt, Harry and Ron had not been able to stop teasing her about her lack of cooking skills. It had annoyed Hermione so much she had started practicing and even gone as far as to take a cooking class. Cooking was a skill that Hermione had earned, and she still had to work hard at it.
“Hi, mum.” Ron said, sitting down on a chair. He turned to Hermione. “Granger.” he added, nodding in her direction. Hermione let out a loud laugh, covered it as a cough, then turned away to hide her broad smile and red face.
Not Granger for much longer, actually.
“Ronnie, isn't there a new auror working at the office?” Mrs. Weasley asked, taking the lettuce Hermione had just handed her and putting it into a bowl. “Hermione, could you be a dear and stuff those raviolis?”
“Of course, Mrs... Molly.”
“Mrs. Molly? Nice compromise.” Ginny said, coming into the kitchen. She sniffed. “Mum, you made brussel sprouts! Again!”
“They're good for you, dear.” Mrs. Weasley said.
“But no one ever eats them!” Ginny protested. “And they're making me feel nauseous! Oh, Hermione, is that stuffed raviolis I see?”
“Yes, Ginny.” Hermione said patiently.
“Well, that sauce is very valuable. I hope you don't spill anything.” Ginny said loudly, before laughing at her metaphor and prancing out of the kitchen.
“Why is it that she always acts like a silly little girl around her brothers?” Mrs. Weasley asked, shaking her head. “Although, Hermione, do try not to spill the sauce.”
“No worries, Molly. The sauce is safe.”
Finally, dinner was ready. The whole family walked back and forth from the kitchen to the backyard, bringing things out of the house. The delicious scent of Mrs. Weasley's cooking consumed the area, and everyone was dying to start eating. Ron and Hermione sat down in the last seats left at the table, right next to each other.
“Ron, Hermione, there are just two platters left. Would you mind bringing them?” Mrs. Weasley asked, suddenly looking up.
“Oh. Sure.” Hermione and Ron said, walking back up to the house. They went to the kitchen and grabbed a plate of freshly grated cheese and the salad bowl. Just when they reached the door, Ron stuck a hand out to stop Hermione.
“Sorry about the Granger thing earlier.” he said, grinning lopsidedly at her.
“It's okay,” Hermione said, and Ron leaned down and gave her a long kiss. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Bill. Hermione and Ron jumped away from each other, and Ron quickly wiped Hermione's lip gloss off of his mouth. But he wasn't fast enough. The whole family had seen them kissing, and were now staring at them with a very shocked expression on each face.
“I... what?” George was the first to break the silence.
“Okay... I guess right now is as good as anytime.” Hermione muttered under her breath to Ron. They motioned for Bill to sit down, then they all walked to the table together. Ron and Hermione stood up at their seats, and Ron cleared his throat.
“We're back together.” Ron said, looking out at his whole family. “We've been together since the Hogwarts reunion.”
The whole family was staring at them with shocked expressions on their faces, all except for Ginny, Harry, Mr. Weasley, Angelina and Fleur.
“Oh, and we're also getting married, but that's just, you know, pffttt.” Hermione added quickly, waving her hand nonchalantly.
Now Mr. Weasley, Angelina and Fleur were looking blank as well, and Harry and Ginny were looking as though they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Then, George stood up and started jumping up and down.
“I KNEW IT!” he screamed, his eyes wide.
“YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED?” Mrs. Weasley suddenly shrieked, frightening George into falling down. “Oh my god, little Ronniekinz is getting MARRIED! And to Hermione! Hermione Granger! Can you believe this Arthur? Ron and Hermione are getting married! Hermione Weasley... oh, it sounds so good! When did he ask you?” Mrs. Weasley asked.
“A day ago, November tenth...” Hermione started, but her excited mother-in-law to be didn't pause to listen to her answer.
“Hermione, Hermione, you can get the dress that Betty designed you! Oooohhh, the ring! Let's see the ring!”
“Yes, let's see it!” Fleur echoed, smiling. Hermione, smiling shyly, raised her hand to show everyone. Then she realized that there was no ring.
“Oh my god. Ron, it's gone!”
“Er- what's gone?” Ron asked, looking momentarily confused as he turned away from Bill, who was shaking his hand happily.
“My ring!” Hermione cried, her face contorted into a look of terror.
“Your... no!” Ginny cried, getting up immediately.
“Let's just try accio?” George suggested. He raised his wand high and said it. Nothing happened.
Hermione sat back down in her chair, the glory of the moment gone by the loss she was about to endure. Everyone was silent. Suddenly, Fleur stood up and clapped her hands.
“Ve veel find zee ring. George, Angelina, take zee bathroom. Beel, Arthur, Molly, ve veel get zee kitchen. Percy, Audrey, Harry Ginny... you veel take zee living room. Ron- search the outside area zat Hermione has been walking along. George and Angelina veel come help you ven zey are done vith zee bathroom.”
“What's Hermione doing?” Harry asked as he and Ginny moved along.
“Let her grieve, 'Arry.” Fleur said gently, before running off to the kitchen with Bill. Hermione had never seen anything so comical. Ron was waving his wand and muttering to himself, trying to find the ring in the yard. Other than that, all of the Weasleys were on their hands and knees, trying to locate the diamond. George and Angelina had long ago gotten sick of the search, and were merely snogging in the bathroom, but other than that everyone was working hard to find the infamous ring. But an hour later, it was still missing, and Hermione was beginning to lose hope. Sadly, she called all of the Weasleys back to the table, where they, defeated, sat down and began to eat the food that Hermione had just warmed with a spell. There was a chorus of, “I'm sorry, Hermione,” And then everybody sat back down to eat. Hermione sat there miserably, thinking about the gorgeous ring that she would never see again. Ron looked at her with troubled eyes, then back at his food. Suddenly, he dropped his fork.
“Why is it so important to you? It's just a ring. You didn't loose me!”
All of the ladies at the table dropped their forks and downright glared at him.
“Well, I'm just saying, if it's about the money... well, it doesn't matter. We can get a new one.”
Hermione looked miserably at the ground. She wanted to tell Ron that it wasn't just the fact that the ring was perfect, it was the fact that it was the ring he had given to her, and surprised her with. The ring that had felt warm on her finger the first time he put it on, no matter how cold the silver metal actually was. The ring that she had already gotten used to wearing. The ring she had already started to love. Instead she clamped her mouth shut and grabbed his hand under the table. She didn't want to talk at the moment. She wasn't in the mood for him to make her smile, like he always did. He clutched her hand as she handed it to him, and he held on tight. A few minutes later, Audrey broke the silence.
“Would anyone mind passing the stuffed raviolis?” she said to the general table. Suddenly, Ginny sprung up, her eyes sparking.
“The raviolis, that's it!” she cried, clapping her hands together. “Hermione, didn't you make the raviolis?”
“Er- yes?”
“And did you take the ring off before you did so?”
“No...” Hermione said, comprehension starting to dawn on her.
“The ring is in the ravioli!” Ginny yelled triumphantly. “Okay, everyone grab two.”
Everyone grabbed a ravioli and eagerly started digging through it. Two minutes later, Ron shouted 'ha!' and jumped up.
“I GOT IT! I GOT IT!” He roared, his smile lighting up the yard. He turned to a shocked Hermione and slid the ring onto her finger.
“The third time?” Hermione said, but no one understood it. Mrs. Weasley jumped up and ran to hug Hermione.
“We'll go get your dress tomorrow, Hermione.” she said, holding on tight to her son's fiancée. “Betty will be thrilled.”
Then she turned back to Arthur and gathered both him and Ron into a hug, before Hermione had the chance to tell her that she'd already told Betty.
“Hermione Granger...” she whispered. “I always knew.”
Down the table, Harry and Ginny's hands found each other. Ginny winked happily at Harry, and he leaned over to whisper something in her ear.
“Do you think this is a good time to tell them your pregnant?”
A/N: Yes, as many of you have predicted, Ginny is, indeed, pregnant! Good job to those of you who saw it coming. I'm so sorry this chapter took such a long time, but the validators took a well deserved break and I'm glad they got some time off. So to those of you have been patiently waiting, this chapter is dedicated to you and I do hope you'll review to tell me what you think of the Weasley chaos.
By the way, I wanted to ask a favor. I'm thinking about recording one of my stories for a podcast, and I want to do a one-shot. I was wondering if any of you had a favorite? It would be great if you could tell me! Also, I have three more coming, called Trigger, Her Own Fairytale, and Of Love and Lambs, so if you want to hold out until you've read those that's fine too. Thanks for the reviews guys, and I hope you like this! ~writergirl8
It was the first day of December. Everything was cold, and Hermione couldn't wait for it to be warm again. She loved the snow, but she liked tank tops and shorts much better. As she pushed her cart through the store, she couldn't help looking outside at the frosty window panes and sighing at the cold weather. The world was beautiful in the winter. But it was always nicer in the summer. When she was younger, she used to hate summer. She wasn't in school, she wasn't near Harry and Ron. But she always enjoyed playing with Rose, at least while she was friends with her, and she never stopped liking swimming. Her parents used to think of her as a mermaid. If only they knew how close they were. Not a mermaid, but a witch. And a darn good one.
“Hermione! Hermione Granger!” A slightly familiar voice rang through the store, incredulously calling her name.
“Hannah Abbott? Hi!” Hermione cried, walking over to the girl. Hannah had been one of Hermione's friends from school. A fellow prefect, she only hung out with the girl when Ron and Harry weren't around, but the two always had fun together. However, they'd never become close, and after Hermione left Hogwarts and didn't return, the two girls had drifted easily apart. “Long time no see.”
“I didn't want to go to the Hogwarts reunion.” Hannah admitted. “Too many bad memories.”
“Understandable.” Hermione said, nodding sympathetically at her old friend.
“So how are you?” Hannah asked. “I hear you're getting married!”
“Oh, yeah, I am!” Hermione squealed, showing off her ring.
Hannah gasped happily.
“Oh, it's beautiful! Who's the lucky guy?”
“Ron Weasley.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, smiling.
“Of course.” she said. “Word on the street is you guys went on a game show together. Apparently, it was really romantic. So, when's the wedding?”
“May eighteenth.” Hermione said. The date was burned into her mind, she absolutely could not stop thinking about it.
“Oh, you have a while. But knowing you, the whole thing's planned out.” Hannah laughed.
Hermione gave her a guilty look.
“Well, I have the venue, dresses, date, honeymoon, music, flowers, guest list, photographer, DJ and officiator all lined up. I guess I'm pretty good on time.”
Hannah giggled.
“Pretty good? Hermione, you could have it tomorrow the way you're planning.”
“No thanks. May is absolutely fine with me!” She grinned. “Although sometimes, I think I don't want to wait that long.”
“Why would you? You two are perfect for each other!” Hannah laughed. “So, what are you doing here, if you've got all the wedding stuff planned.” she said, looking around the store.
“I need some new pillows for my living room.”
“I've seen your flat, Hermione, it's perfect.”
“Oh, I'm moving out of the flat. Ron bought me my dream house, and I'm getting all new furnishings for it.”
“Wow, Hermione. It seems like your life is really unfolding perfectly.” Hannah sighed, shaking her head and smiling.
“I know. I keep waiting for something to go wrong.” Hermione confessed, lowing her voice.
“Nothing's going to go wrong. Every thing's great.” Hannah said, touching Hermione's shoulder in reassurance.
But Hermione's prediction came true that same night. She was sitting at home, watching a documentary titled 'For The Love of Merlin' when Ron flooed into the house, looking tired and worried. Hermione took one look at him, and knew that something was woefully wrong.
“Hermione-” Ron started, but Hermione held up a hand.
“I need tea for this.” she said, biting her lip.
“Yeah, I think you do.” Ron admitted. Hermione walked over to the kitchen and set to making tea. Then she turned to Ron.
“Okay. Out with it.”
“Your tea isn't even ready...”
“I know, but this way when I need to turn away from you I'll have an excuse. And then if I start crying I can say that I splashed myself with some tea when I turned away.”
“Are you su-?”
“Just do it, Ron.” Hermione said. “Rip off the band aid.”
“I'm going on a mission.” Ron said, looking at her in sorry way.
“When?” Hermione asked, looking unworried.
“The beginning of February.”
“So?” Hermione asked, not seeing what the problem was.
“I'm not coming back until June.”
“JUNE?” Hermione yelled, her eyes wide and angry.
“Hermione.” Ron said, wincing.
“June?” Hermione whispered.
“Yes. June. And that means we won't be able to get married until June.”
“Oh. Well, it's a little longer than we wanted, but I can go until June. “
“The thing is, Hermione, the absolute date of our return isn't final. It could be May, it could be July. We'd have to plan a whole nothing wedding, which would take forever!”
“That's an exaggeration, Ron.” Hermione said, frowning. “And-” she started.
“I want to get married in two weeks.” Ron said, cutting Hermione off. She stared at him, her mouth open into a perfect 'O'. When she was finally able to speak, her words were not encouraging.
“I... two... what? No! I won't do that!”
“Hermione, think about it. We have pull. Luna's Quibbler photographers are at our disposal. The flowers you ordered are only spring flowers, but Neville can give us some gorgeous winter flowers that his first years have been growing. The dresses are all made, and they all fit. The guest list has been completely planned, and the invites are all addressed and made. All we need to do is magically alter them. We can get the cake anytime we want. The only complications we'll face is the venue and the band. And we can always just enchant some of our guests to suddenly become good instrument players.”
“Very funny, Ronald.” Hermione said, turning away from him. Ron walked around Hermione so that he could look her in the eye.
“We could go on our Honeymoon when I get back. It'll be like a two for one deal.”
“I don't want my Honeymoon to be a two for one deal!” Hermione cried, turning away again. Ron didn't try to walk around her again. Instead, he started to massage her shoulders. Hermione loved when he did that. It felt so amazing. She was silent for a while, as he continued to massage. When she finally spoke, she hadn't turned around yet.
“Ever since I met you when I was eleven years old, I've dreamed about my wedding. You triggered something in me that made me wonder who was going to be the person standing opposite to me at the alter. But, Ron, in all the times I pictures myself getting married, I always thought of it as me saying hello. I never thought of my wedding signifying something that meant goodbye.” She turned around. Tears were in her eyes, but they didn't fall down her face. “But I'd do anything for you. And I don't want to wait, you're right. I want to be able to have people call me Hermione Weasley, even when you aren't going to come home that night and I only have Crookshanks to greet me.” She pressed her lips together and looked at the ceiling. “I didn't know that I was falling in love with an auror when I was thirteen years old. If I had, I would have been even more reluctant. But it couldn't have stopped me. By the time we were able to be together, you were bent set on the job, and there was nothing I could do to stop you. I never liked it. I hate being so afraid of what's going to happen when you go to work. But I'm not going to stop you from doing what you love. When we have children, I hope you'll take a desk job, just day missions. But for now I can't do anything about it. Even though I absolutely loathe this.”
“I'm sorry, Hermione. I know you don't like the fact that my job is so dangerous, but it's what I love doing. Ridding the world of evil. I feel passionate about it, you know? It's like the Robinson case. You were crying when you won it, you were so happy. And that's how I feel about being an auror. But, of course, when we have kids I'll apply for an easier position in the field.” He smiled at her. “So. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Hermione answered. Then she met Ron's eyes and smiled, too. “I actually feel kind of excited about this.”
“Me too. I can't wait to marry you.” Ron smiled, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Hermione kissed him back, hard, then pulled away. Ron groaned and gave her a look.
“I have to get started! I have tons of floo calls to make. Ron, the wedding invitations are in the office. Go in there and start changing the date on them, then bring them to the post office and mail them as soon as you can.” Hermione said, grabbing a pot and throwing the floo powder into the fireplace.
“Hi, Luna!” Hermione shouted, calling through the house. A second later, Luna appeared, looking happy to see Hermione.
“Oh, hi, Hermione. What can I do for you?”
“I need a little favor...”
***
“This is the perfect idea!” Ginny said, swinging her bags as she walked down the street. “We should do it more often.”
“Go shopping together? Ginny, no one except you likes shopping.” Hermione teased, elbowing her friend.
“Yes, well, I'm special,” Ginny replied, adding a bit more bounce to her step. “And, anyways, once James or Lily comes, I won't be able to do it so often.”
“James or Lily?” Hermione asked. “Harry's parents?”
“No, the baby! I want to name him or her James or Lily... hey, let's stop somewhere for lunch, okay?”
“Sure.” Hermione said, looking down the street at possible food prospects. “I've heard of a really nice place down the street- tons of salads and soups and healthy choices.”
“Hermione, that dress fits like a glove. You don't have to worry.” Ginny joked. “But, yeah, sounds great. Lets go there. And then we can see if we can figure out where you should have your wedding.”
“I think Ron needs to be there for that.” Hermione told Ginny, rolling her eyes.
“Not necessarily.” Ginny said, shrugging. “As long as you're there, he'll be fine.”
“That may be true, but still...” Hermione walked into the restaurant, grabbed a table and started perusing the menu. “I think I'll have the-”
“Hermione? Hermione, hi!”
It was the second sighting of someone she knew in two days! But Hermione knew whose voice that was. She excitedly turned around.
“Hi, Rose! How are you?” she asked, hugging her friend.
“I'm wonderful. How are you?”
“I'm perfect. I'm getting married in two weeks!” Hermione added excitedly, showing Rose her finger. Rose let out a quiet screech.
“Hermione! You're marrying Ron?”
“No, I chose Harry instead.” Hermione said, hanging her head. Rose stood there, looking shocked, until Hermione snapped her head up and said, “Kidding! Actually, my friend here, Ginny, is married to Harry.”
“Oh! Nice to meet you, Ginny.” Rose said, shaking Ginny's hand and beaming at her.
“Likewise. It's great to meet a fellow red-head. Would you like to sit?” Ginny asked.
“Of course! That would be wonderful.” Rose pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Oh, we should go order. Hermione, would you mind coming with me?” Ginny asked, and Hermione nodded. They walked up to the line, Ginny's eyes glowing excitedly.
“She isn't a witch, is she?” Ginny asked.
“No, but her husband is a Squib, and the Healers think that she may have some magical background.”
“Hermione, are you think what I'm thinking?”
“I am. She's the spitting image of Harry's mum.”
They both glanced back at Rose and, once again, drank in her gorgeous red hair and green eyes.
“What if they're related in some way?”
“Dumbledore didn't think Harry had any other relatives...” Hermione started, but Ginny shook her head.
“Those were the closest relatives, the direct ones... she could be a second cousin or a third cousin or whatnot.”
“I know... and that would explain so much about her children!”
“You go back to Rose, I'll finish ordering.” Ginny said, moving up in the line.
“Okay.” Hermione said, and then she walked back over to Rose.
“So, wedding, huh?” Rose asked.
“Yeah.” Hermione sighed and slumped down in her chair.
“What's wrong?” Rose asked worriedly. “You're not having second thoughts, are you?”
“What? No! Of course not! It's just that... we need a venue. We pushed the wedding up to December, and we can't get married outside like we wanted to. At Ron's childhood home.”
Rose sat there, biting her lip. “That's horrible.” she said. “Wait, let me think...”
She sat there thinking as Ginny approached the table again.
“Here you go.” She said, passing Hermione her meal and Rose her plate of French fries. After pushing a piece of salad into her mouth, Ginny snapped her fingers. “Did you owl your parents about the party favors?” she asked.
“Your parents!” Rose said, something in her eyes sparking. Hermione and Ginny looked at her oddly. “Hermione, you should get married in the church your parents got married in! That's what you always wanted when you were a little girl.”
“Oh my god, perfect!” Ginny breathed, while Hermione beamed at Rose.
“She's right, perfect, Rosie.” Hermione said, bouncing a little in her chair. Then she frowned. “But what if it's not available?”
“Hold on.” Rose said, getting up and pulling out a muggle cell phone. Ginny and Hermione exchanged bewildered glances as Rose exited the building, dialing a number. She pressed a finger to her ear and her brow creased. Suddenly, her expression cleared. She bounced up and down, hung up, and rushed back over to Hermione and Ginny.
“It's available December twenty first! Last minute cancellation. I booked you.”
“Oh my god, Rose, you are so brilliant!” Hermione cried, hugging her.
Ginny shook her head in amazement.
“Hermione, you have really amazing friends.” she said, sighing happily. Hermione glanced down at her, grinning.
“I know. I really, really do, Ginny.”
A/N: So did everyone like the movie? How 'bout that Romione kiss? I actually really liked it, angles be darned :) Two chapters until the wedding! Anyone getting excited? ~writergirl8
“Ron, where's my special writing pen?” Hermione asked, walking into the kitchen. Ron watched as her eyes frantically searched the room, wild with the desperation of a misplaced object. “Have you seen it? I can't write without it!”
“Oh, you mean the turquoise one?” Ron prodded, and Hermione nodded fervently. “Er- no, I haven't seen it.”
Hermione let out a frustrated scream and started banging drawers of the house open and closed. Ron knitted his brows together; he hadn't seen her act like this in a while. She was being surprisingly calm, given the fact that her wedding was in a few days. Ron had almost been expecting this. Except when it hadn't come earlier, he'd forgotten to be prepared. Now it was happening, and he was woefully unprepared. Sighing, he pushed his chair back, put his arms around her, and kissed her neck, trying to calm her down. Hermione relaxed against his embrace and leaned her head against his neck so that Ron couldn't see her eyes still wildly looking around the counters.
“See now? All better.”
“Yeah. Uh hu.” Hermione said, her eyes darting to the tips of the cabinets.
Ron continued to attempt to soothe her.
“And I'd bet it's not even the pen you're really upset about. You're just nervous about the wedding. Getting a little uptight about how close it is. Am I right?”
“No. It's definitely the pen.” Hermione said, wrenching herself out of his arms. She was looking peeved, so Ron let his expression match hers as he too looked around the room.
“Well, let's look at this from a logical standpoint.”
“Think about who you're talking to. Am I ever anything but logical?”
Ron ignored her.
“When was the last time you used it?”
“Let's see... I was writing Rose a letter with it. In the sitting room. And then you came in and started kissing me, and I got distracted, and I haven't seen it since. OH! Ron, did you feel anything poking you while you were attempting to seduce me?”
“Attempting?” Ron echoed, looking highly affronted. “If I remember correctly, I succeeded!”
“Whatever.” Hermione said, looking as thought this did not bother her in the least, reminding Ron very much of a cow flicking a fly with its tail. “When you were seducing me, did you feel anything poking you?”
“I don't remember.” Ron said coldly.
“Fine.” Hermione huffed, and she ran into the living room. A second later, Ron heard a shriek, and Hermione rushed into the kitchen holding a bright blue pen high in the air. She ran straight at Ron, threw her arms around him, and kissed him flat on the mouth. “I found it!” she squealed, and Ron rolled his eyes, kissing her back.
“I knew you would. You never loose anything.”
Hermione chose not to reply to this. Instead she backed out of his arms, ran to the window seat in the living room, and started writing. Ron walked over to the couch and sat down, watching as she tapped the pen against her bottom lip.
“What are you writing?” he asked, looking at the seriousness on her face.
“My vows.” she said, looking guilty. “I'm sorry I waited for such a long time... I just was so busy with figuring everything out, and the date sort of sprung up, seeing as you moved it up seven months.”
“Vows?” Ron said in a high pitched voice. “Vows?”
“Is that the only word you got out of that sentence?” Hermione asked. “Because I can say it again if you like.”
“We were supposed to write our own vows?” Ron asked.
Hermione's eyes narrowed.
“Yes. We were. You have written them, haven't you?” she asked dangerously.
“Oi! You haven't written them yet, why should you expect anything more from me?”
“Because it takes you soooo much longer to get things out then me. I'll be able to do this in... an hour. Tops.”
“Oh, really?” Ron said, puffing out his chest. “Well I'd bet I can too.”
“Oh, of course you can, sweetie.” Hermione said, turning back to her notebook.
“Pass me a notebook, Mione.” Ron said importantly. Amused, she passed him one. Ron picked up a pen lying on the coffee table and started scribbling furiously. “This is going to be easy.”
“Why do you think?” Hermione asked.
“Because I love you so much, it'll be a piece of cake to express it on paper.”
“I wouldn't be so sure, Ron.” Hermione warned, smirking. She returned to thinking and continued tapping her pen on her bottom lip. Ten minutes later, Ron dropped his pen onto the couch. His eyes scanned the words on the paper, and then ripped them out of the notebook and balled up the page. He threw it across the room. “Something wrong, love?” Hermione inquired in a honey sweet voice.
“No. It just wasn't good enough for you, my sweet.” Ron answered, sensing the challenge in her voice. Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, her mouth open. Then she burst out laughing.
“My sweet?” she said, clutching her side. “Please, never call me that again.”
“Why? What's wrong with my sweet?” Ron asked, looking thoroughly affronted.
“Go back to writing, you poor sweet baby.”
“Poor sweet baby?” Ron repeated. “I... oh, I get it.” he said, grinning at Hermione. She let out a laugh, then, with a sudden spark in her eyes, returned to writing the vows. Ron looked at her, amazed, as her pen scribbled furiously across the paper. Once or twice, she looked up and grinned at him, but then she immediately glanced back down at her paper and started writing again. A half an hour later, Hermione read her writing over, then threw down her pen and gave Ron a breathless smile.
“They're perfect.” she said, grinning and clapping her hands together.
“Oh, really? Let me see, I'll tell you if they are.” Ron said craftily.
“Oh no you don't!” Hermione laughed as he made a swipe for the notepad. “I need to give you some reason to show up for the wedding.”
“Come on, Mione!” Ron groaned. “What's a little sharing between fiancées?”
Hermione glanced at her watch.
“Oh, I have to go get ready.” she said, getting up and placing her notepad in her office. She locked the door behind her.
“Where're you going?” Ron asked conversationally.
“To my bachelorett party.”
“Hey! You're not letting me have a bachelor party! How come you get one?”
“Because females to not do the bad things that men do on their last night of freedom.”
“Tonight isn't your last night of freedom.” Ron pointed out.
“Whatever. Ron, it'll be fine. We're just going to drink a little and reminisce.”
“Who's going to be there?”
“It'll be me, Ginny, Luna, and Rose.”
“I don't think I've met her yet. Maybe I should come!” Ron suggested.
“Oh, yeah, that'll go over well. 'Hey, guys, I brought my future husband to my bachelorett party. Hope you don't mind! It's just that we had this surgery during which we were, in fact, attached at the hip.'”
“We should do that!” Ron said brightly.
“No, we shouldn't.” Hermione answered, kissing his forehead. “Come on, Ron. It'll be fine. We're probably going to look at naked baby pictures of you.”
“Wait- really?” Ron asked, jumping up and following her into their room. Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped her shirt over her head, going over to the closet and picking a dress up. She put it on and walked over to her bureau to apply a bit of eyeliner.
“I love you.” Hermione said, shaking her head, “So stop flipping out.”
She stood on her tip toes to kiss him.
“Ron, try to write your vows while I'm gone. I love the idea of being completely surprised at what you have to say, instead of having to help you.” She walked out the door, then called over her shoulder, “Why don't you ask Harry to come help you? He's going to be all alone tonight, too.”
“Hermione, there are some things a man has to do alone. Writing his wedding vows is one of them.”
“Good luck. There's lasagna in the fridge.” Hermione said as she shut the door to the house. Ron sighed, then walked back over to the couch and started writing. But it wasn't good enough. Nothing seemed good enough for Hermione.
“I'm useless at this!” Ron huffed, throwing his pen into the air after eight tries. He was writing pages and pages, but they were all completely awful. Finally, he got up and went over to the cabinet where Hermione kept all of their photo albums. There were pictures of him and Hermione all over the place, and Harry and Ginny were randomly thrown in some places, too. He smiled, and kept flipping through the pictures. But he wasn't getting anything. These were the times where he and Hermione had not been in love, and he couldn't get anything out of them. He was putting the photographs back into the cabinet when he noticed a little picture, right in the back. Curious, he grabbed it. Hermione was dancing with him, in the dress she had worn to Bill and Fleur's wedding. She looked simply radiant, laughing at something he said, and Ron's mind zoomed over to that day.
She was walking into the garden, her floaty lilac dress fanning perfectly over her body. He swallowed and tried to ignore her. But he couldn't stop looking at her! Her hair, her face, her eyes, her body... everything looked amazing. Not even Auntie Murial could take the feeling away, because every time he had to go near her all he had to do was look at Hermione and he'd have that funny feeling in his stomach. Okay, so Viktor Krum was here. Ron would do anything to ensure that the little scoundrel stayed well away from Hermione. All through the ceremony, he concentrated completely on her scent, and the way the dress set off the highlights in her hair. When it was finally over, he took his seat next to her at the table, desperate to stay as close to her as he possibly could. Everything was fine until Viktor came to join them. Ron stiffened, and barely listened to what he was saying, instead noticing the gorgeous blush on Hermione's face. Why couldn't he be the one that the blush was for? He abruptly stood up, held his hand out, and asked her to dance. He couldn't help noticing that she looked pleased as she got up and said yes. They started dancing, and at first they didn't say anything. Then, as they got into things, they started talking. They were swaying back and forth, Hermione with her eyes closed.
“I'm actually sort of glad that Bill and Fleur are getting married.” Ron said, looking at her intensely. Hermione opened her eyes, looking startled to hear him speak.
“Oh. So am I,” she paused, then said, “What made you change your mind?”
“I dunno. My brother looks happy with her. It's what I want for myself, why shouldn't I want it for him? What made you change your mind?”
“Well, you aren't exactly ogling her like an idiot anymore. It's always nice,” Hermione said teasingly. Their close proximity was making her say things she wouldn't normally be saying, and the scent of Ron was making her drunk with happiness. “It's just better this way.”
She sighed contently, sleepily, and put her head on Ron's shoulder. His eyes widened in shock, and he lost his place in dancing, but as he looked around, he realized something. This was a magical wedding. And something magical was about to happen to him.
“Hermione?” Ron said in a soft voice. “I... I...”
“Yes?” Hermione breathed, looking up at him with shining eyes and a face pink from dancing.
“I think I'm in lo-”
But suddenly, a patronus appeared in the middle of the dance floor, and everything fell apart as Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd, off to find Harry and apparate away. They walked along the road, trying to ignore the drunk men who were calling to Hermione. Ron noted bitterly that she couldn't even have the opportunity to ditch 'ginger', because they weren't together. But Grimmald Place was a relief to get to. The terribleness of Mad Eye's dust figure was enough to shake him back to earth, forget about the way the wedding had effected him. When Harry ran to the bathroom, though, they were alone. Hermione glanced up at Ron, waiting to see if he would say anything. When it became apparent he wasn't going to, however, she went to get the pillows and sheets.
“You can have the couch cushions.” Ron told her when she returned. It was the least he could do for her.
“Oh, that's alright.” Hermione said, surprised. She hadn't expected Ron to talk to her for the rest of the night after the way she'd put her head on his shoulder. Usually, he tended to work like that. They'd make the smallest bit of progress, but he had to digest it first.
“No, I insist.” Ron said, smiling at her. Hermione gave him an uncertain grin, then pulled the cushions off of the couch and set them on the floor in the large space between Ron and Harry's sleeping bags. Harry ambled into the room and fell asleep, but Ron was still awake, thinking. Suddenly, Hermione's voice came through the darkness, making his skin crawl with excitement just at hearing that she wanted to talk to him.
“Ron?”
“Yeah?” Ron said.
“I'm scared.”
Tentatively, he reached over and took her hand in his own.
“Everything is going to be okay. You don't have anything to worry about. I... I promise to always protect you.”
She didn't say anything, but he could feel her smile through the darkness. It matched his own as they fell asleep, holding hands.
Hermione arrived home four hours after she had left, tired but glad she'd gone. The party had been fun, but she'd been anxious to get home. She couldn't help feeling like she didn't want to celebrate her last few days as being a bachelorett. She liked the fact that she was marrying Ron, she wouldn't have it any other way. That said, the point of the party was kind of moot. But she was glad to be able to sit around and talk with the girls, none the less.
She peeked through the door, and looked through the living room. What she saw shocked her. It was completely trashed. Yellow pieces of paper were thrown everywhere, all with Ron's frantic handwriting. The man himself was snoring on the couch. Hermione walked over to him and shook him awake.
“Ron? Ron, wake up!”
Ron woke with a grunt.
“What is it? Huh?”
“Did you finish your vows, sweetheart?” Hermione asked, grinning at all the pieces of paper around the room.
“Actually, I did.” Ron said, holding up two pieces of paper. “And I'm having these laminated. I can't imagine doing this any longer.”
Hermione laughed and kissed Ron on the nose, then the neck, and, finally, his lips.
“Well, I'm proud of you, honey. I'm sure you did a wonderful job.”
“You too, Mione.” Ron said, yawning.
“Okay, time for bed, mister.”
“Oh, must I?” Ron complained, and Hermione giggled.
“Yes, you must. Come on.”
And then she pulled him up and they brushed their teeth together and fell asleep with Ron's arms protectively around Hermione, making her have the safe and happy feeling she got whenever she was lying in Ron's arms.
***
Hermione had been reading contently when suddenly the door to the house burst open, revealing Ron bounding up to her and kissing her square on the mouth.
“What is it?” she gasped, shocked.
“WE HAVE A CHOICE!” he yelled, beside himself with excitement.
“What are you talking about?” Hermione demanded.
“Well, remember that long-term mission I was supposed to go on?”
“No, I've completely forgotten about it.”
“The guys got caught on a routine stakeout! The mission got canceled! We can get married whenever we want to now!”
“You're... you're kidding,” Hermione asked, gaping at him.
“I'm not,” Ron said seriously. “When do you want to get married? We can do it anytime now!”
Hermione hesitated. Then she smiled.
“I still want to marry you as fast as I can. Let's keep it as it is, shall we?”
He nodded, smiling.
“But now we can have a Honeymoon sooner,” he reminded her dreamily.
Hermione smacked his arm.
“Honestly, is that the only thing you're excited about?”
“Of course not,” Ron said, wounded. “But the wedding is for the woman, and the Honeymoon is for the man... I'm pretty damn excited for it.”
“It's just a different setting to shag,” Hermione sighed.
“True,” Ron said, smirking.
A/N: So, so sorry I didn't update faster. I had to post a one-shot I wrote, and then I got grounded... so, yes, many excuses. I hope you liked this chapter. I, too, have a special writing pen, and I hate loosing it! Reviews would be awesome :) I've been getting so many great ones lately! ~writergirl8
The first thought that entered Hermione's mind that morning was,
“I'M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”
It was also the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth thing that came out of her mouth.
“Yes, I know, Mione, but shut up, I'm still sleeping.”
Hermione leaned down and kissed Ron's cheek, then started jumping on the bed. He sat up with an amused expression on his face, then finally gave in and started jumping with her.
“Guys- stop whatever you're doing right now! I'm coming in.” called out Ginny's voice. She entered the room with her hand over her eyes, the other one out to protect her from anything she could bump into.
“MORNING GINNY!” Hermione shouted, her high ponytail bouncing up and down as she jumped.
“You, too.” Ginny said, laughing at Hermione. Then she turned to Ron. “Merlin, brother. I think it's illegal to marry three year olds.”
“That's disgusting.” Hermione said cheerfully, getting off the bed and running excitedly into the bathroom to brush her teeth. If there was one thing Hermione Granger Almost Weasley hated, it was morning breath. That was why she kept mints in both her and Ron's bedside tables. But she needed something to do, so she got up and brushed her teeth with such vigor her gums started bleeding. Nothing could bring Hermione down today. Not when Ron bumped into a wall on his way out of their bedroom. Not when Hermione fell down after she had been running into the kitchen too fast. Not even Ginny telling them that they weren't allowed to kiss goodbye when it was time to leave for the Granger household, where the girls would be preparing for the wedding.
Mrs. Granger greeted her daughter with tear filled eyes, and Rose showed up a few minutes later looking not much more in control of her tears as Hermione's mother was.
“Here's the schedule.” Mrs. Granger said, placing a sheet on the counter.
“Like mother like daughter.” Ginny said to Rose, rolling her eyes, and Rose laughed.
“First, breakfast.” Mrs. Granger said, pointing to the item on the schedule, then the lavish breakfast sitting on the table. “Then, we will go upstairs and do Hermione's nails. After this her hair, and then her make up. Finally, we will put on her dress and shoes, and then we will put the veil on at the church, because I don't want anything to happen to it here.”
“Sounds good.” Ginny said, eying the pancakes sitting on the table. At the burrow, Ron was having a different experience. His brothers were clapping their hands on his back and congratulating him, then giving him tips.
“Be sure to say the right name.” George joked. “And if you forgot it, then just think of the time you muttered it in your sleep and everyone heard you. 'Er-my-nee.” he added, doing a wonderful impression of Ron.
“Very funny.” Ron, who had just somehow turned pale and red at the same time, said peevishly.
“You know what I figured out, Ron?” Mr. Weasley said before any of his other boys could keep on torturing their youngest brother. “It isn't about the wedding. Not for the man, at least. And, in the long run, if you don't have the perfect wedding, it won't even matter. It's about what happens after the wedding, son.”
“The honeymoon?” Charlie said boldly, and Percy sniffed distastefully.
“No,” Mr. Weasley said patiently. “Life. And being with her for the rest of it.” Then he frowned. “But do yourself a favor and don't say the wrong name at the alter. That really could be a mess.”
“Duly noted, dad.” Ron said, grinning.
At the Granger household, Rose was doing Hermione's hair, and Ginny was applying her make up, while Mrs. Granger ironed the dress.
“Hermione, this is absolutely beautiful. I can't wait to see it on you!” she said.
“It's amazing, isn't it?” Ginny said admiringly. “You'll get to meet the mastermind behind it at the wedding.”
“I think I'll get remarried just so this Betty woman can design my dress!” Rose said, glancing back at the dress with lustful eyes. “It defines you.”
“And Ginny's was just as perfect.” Hermione said, wincing as Rose's curling iron burned her head a little bit.
“Oh, sorry.” Rose said, noticing.
“It's alright... oh, Ginny, not to much on the eyeliner! Ron likes it more natural!”
Everything was completely chaotic everywhere. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger were doing their fair share of crying. And although the settings were completely different, Hermione and Ron had one thing in common as they prepared for their wedding to each other.
“Any last minute regrets? Cold feet?”
And, luckily, they both had the same answer.
“Absolutely not.”
So it wasn't surprising when the whole thing went off without a hitch. Hermione's dress fit her like a glove, as if it had been made for her. Because it was. And Ginny and Rose's bridesmaid dresses worked, too. They were sapphire blue, to match the sapphire pin in the middle of Hermione's dress. So, as she waited in front of the church, trying to see inside and look at her wedding, Hermione thought about how perfect it was going to be. Because, in spite of what she had said all those years ago, perfection wasn't overrated. Or, at least, not the kind that made you blissfully happy.
Music started playing, and Ginny gave Hermione a teary glance before heading down the aisle. And then her cue sounded. There was a nervous pit in Hermione's stomach as she walked through the doors. This was it. The one wedding she would ever have. It had to be amazing. It had to be phenomenal. Nothing could hurt it, nothing could make it bad. She was only doing this once. But as she looked around the church, she realized that it was perfect. It was snowing outside, so the lighting was fantastic. Not to mention the fact you could see snow falling from the windows in the little church. Flowers, thanks to Neville, of course, were placed all around the church, as well as a few lights and candles. They matched Hermione's ordered but colorful bouquet.
The bride was so busy looking all around the church at her wedding, she missed the groom's reaction to her. Ron glanced at her, then did a double take and looked back, his eyes wide. She was glowing in the light, her smile lighting up her whole face. Ginny had gotten her make up perfect this time, not too overdone, but not underdone. And Rose had done her hair so beautifully, an elegant up-do with a curled piece of hair hanging down on the right side of her face, so that the audience would be able to see it when she was standing at the alter across from Ron. But that wasn't even the best part. The best part was the dress that fit her like a glove and hugged her tenderly. She looked beautiful and comfortable and happy, and Ron couldn't take his eyes away from her. As Hermione's eyes finally reached the alter, they met with Ron's, and her grin, if possible, became wider and prettier then it had been before. Hermione arrived at the alter and looked across at Kingsley, who, once again, was performing the ceremony.
“You look gorgeous.” Ron whispered as the piano finished playing.
“Thank you.” Hermione said, beaming at him. Ron didn't even care that she didn't compliment him on his dress robes. Today was absolutely her day, and nothing was going to take that away from her.
“Ron and Hermione. Hermione and Ron. We all expected this, and at the same time, no one actually thought that this was going to happen. And yet... dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman.”
The crowd laughed.
“Any objections?” Kingsley said, glancing around the room.
No one dared to move, or even breathe.
“Good.” Kingsley said. “Let's get on with it.”
Hermione and Ron barely payed attention until they got to the vows. Instead, their eyes were silently communicating with each other, in ways that they had only just begun to master.
“Ron, would you like to say your vows?” Kingsley asked. Ron nodded. Then he stared directly into Hermione's eyes.
“I thought writing vows was going to be easy. When you love someone as much as I love you, it seems that there should be endless words to describe how I'm constantly feeling. But there aren't. So I'm going to do the best I can, even though, as you know, I had trouble getting these feelings onto paper.”
“Understatement of the century.” Mrs. Weasley whispered to Mrs. Granger, and two women half laughed and half sobbed into their hankies.
“When I was just eleven years old, I met you. When you're going to Hogwarts, you have no idea who you're about to see, what you're going to learn there. I never imagined that, the first time I boarded that train, I would be meeting you. My future wife. My future everything. I don't really think I made the most fantastic impression on you. Apparently, if I remember correctly, I had dirt on my nose. But, hey, if that's what it took for you to notice me, so be it.”
The audience laughed.
“Unfortunately, it wasn't enough for me to notice you. At least in that way. The next few years were an emotional roller coaster. The yule ball-”
The crowd groaned, remembering.
“-The DA, during which you beat me millions of times and somehow it made me like you even more. The fiasco in sixth year, which I don't even want to go into.”
Somewhere in the audience, Lavender Brown let out an injured sniffle.
“And then, the Horcrux Hunt, where I truly, truly fell in love with you. At the time, I thought that kissing you was the best thing that would ever happen to me. But after I dated you, and was engaged to you, and am marrying you, I realize that it most certainly was not. The best thing is being with you forever, raising a family, and having you be the person I come home to, a regular in my life. There's no one I'd rather do that with. And after all these years, you'd think you would have rubbed off on me. But I'm still a slob, still reasonably tactless, and still quite clueless about a lot of things. And yet you put up with me, you love me for it, and that is the most breathtaking thing about our relationship. I used to tell myself that I wasn't good enough for you, that you would never fall for me because you were so much better. You were more beautiful then I was handsome. You were obviously smarter. You held your own and made yourself known, while I was just a sidekick. Instead of noticing Harry, you noticed me, and made both me and my sister very happy.”
Hermione looked like she was about to cry. Ron felt thrilled. He'd made Hermione cry in a good way! That never happened!
“Like I said, we're still working on the you rubbing off on me, although some people are of the opinion that this feat is unachievable.”
He turned to Harry and glared. Harry shrugged.
“However, I thought I would surprise everyone by doing something I think you, Hermione, might do. I'm going to use a quote in my vows. So...”
Ron took a piece of paper out of his back pocket and unfolded it. He cleared his throat and said,
“Ambrose Birce once said that love is a temporary madness only to be cured by marriage.”
Ginny let out a loud snort, and everyone turned to look at her.
“I'm sorry! It's just that... out of all the quotes in the world, he picks that one when he's getting married?”
Everyone glared at her. She covered her mouth with her hand and motioned for Ron to continue.
“I agree with half of it. I disagree with the other half. Love is a madness. It hurts you one second, and lifts you up in another. It makes you frightened in hard times, and it makes you peaceful in others. It makes you realize that there are things in life that are worth dying for, and you'd be willing to do just that for the one you love, if it ever came to that. Proof of this is when you were being tortured at Malfoy Manor, Hermione, and all I wanted was to be tortured instead of you. I couldn't stand to hear you scream as you were hurt. I believe it physically hurt me. Being in love with you has made me hate myself, be shockingly sad, act out in unnecessary anger, wish I was someone else-”
“Viktor Krum!” Harry whispered to Ginny, but the word carried up to the bride and groom. Ron and Hermione both glared at him this time, and Harry faltered.
“...And feel awfully stupid. But it has also made me love who I am, because you love who I am. It's made me be so joyful that I feel like I'm about to burst. I can't even tell you how satisfied I am when I notice a familiar quirk and can all but read your mind or your mood. So, yes, I think we're all in agreement that love is a madness. But it can't be cured by marriage. I would be willing to swear on it, then come back in ten years and say it all over again. I look around at all the people who are in love and happy and married, and I want that. I want everything. I want the kids, the home... I even want the fights, because after those you can make up. I've wanted all this for such a long time, and I can't wait to get started on it. Not even marriage can cure my madness for you, and that's exactly the way I'd have it.”
After giving everyone a moment to digest this, and Hermione a little amount of time to compose herself, Kingsley turned to the bride.
“Hermione, would you like to say your vows?”
Hermione looked at the audience, then back at Ron. She took a shaky breath, and then there was a long silence. For a second, Ron wondered if she was copping out on him.
“That's a tough act to follow.” Hermione laughed. “I'm nothing like you, Ron. I wrote my vows down, instead of memorizing them or saying them from the heart. I mean, they come from the heart, but... well, you know what I mean. You've always been able to let go and be caught up in the moment. I've never been able to do that. Except for with you. You make boring, predictable me utterly unpredictable.”
She looked down at her paper, cleared her throat, and started to read.
“Love pops out at you when you least expect it to. Had I known I was going to fall in love with you, our relationship probably would have moved along a lot faster. When I was younger, I had this fantasy view of love. I thought you would meet someone's eyes across the room and just melt, and realize that this was the person. The person you'd spend the rest of your life with, the person who you'd marry and have children with. That's not exactly how it worked with me and you. You had dirt on your nose, and that was the first thing I noticed about you. I didn't even notice your gorgeous eyes until you'd started burping up slugs for me, and then I was just done for. It shouldn't have shocked me when you started to fancy me simply out of jealousy, but as you yelled at me in your frayed dress robes with your earlobes bright red, it didn't occur to me. I just thought you were being possessive, not that you felt anything for me. Yes, the thought crossed my mind, but it always seemed to good to be true. So...”
Hermione suddenly looked up at Ron.
“This is ridiculous. I was about to read a quote by Shakespere about love, but I don't even need to. I can do this.”
She took the piece of paper and tore it in half, then took one of Ron's hands in each of her own.
“Love isn't something that happens at first sight. That's... lust, enamor, passion, even. But we have all that, and love. So what is love, then?”
The corner of Hermione's mouth quirked up, and her eyes twinkled at Ron.
“Love is the way we interact with each other. If you ever see how we treat each other, you'll see that you're looking at love. Love is falling for who you least expect to, but when you realize what you've done it's bliss. We have love, I know we have it, Ron. Because one minute we're screaming at each other from across the room, and the next minute we're passionately snogging in place of sorry. I know we have love because when we see each other from across the room, our faces break out into a smile. I know we have love because I never, ever want to so much as look at another man. I'd be content just staring at you all my life. And, besides, no other man could possibly be as good as you. I love you because I know that you'll take care of me even at the worst of times. For example, when someone casts a cheering charm on me and I'm just a little drunk, resulting in a bloody mess.”
The spectators laughed, half in shock that Hermione just swore, and half in glee at remembering that episode of The Perfect Match. Ron, on the other hand, looked rather guilty. But he couldn't stop staring at Hermione. She was speaking quickly and easily, with an excitement in her voice he had never heard when she was making a speech. It seemed that every sentence she threw out there should have been punctuated with an exclamation point. She'd been so nervous about speaking from the heart, but now that she was doing it, he'd never seen her so passionate about anything. But her voice softened, and it was so quiet now Ron wouldn't have been surprised if he was the only one who could hear her.
“Ron, I have complete faith in you, complete trust. For the longest time now, I've been thinking about having children with you, these gorgeous redheads that we can love together and take care of together and that can be a monument of how we feel for each other. Half you, half me... that's all I've ever wanted. If...”
Her voice raised, louder now, ringing through the church, strong and sure,
“If my life was a book, divided into three chapters, 'Falling for Ron', 'Dating Ron', and 'Being Married to Ron', this is my absolute favorite chapter. And I know we'll stay in it forever and ever, until it's time to end the story.”
Kingsley looked at Hermione to see if she was done, and she beamed back at him and nodded, then handed Ron Hermione's wedding ring. He slid it onto her finger on top of the engagement ring.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” Kingsley added, and Ron repeated after him.
“With this ring, I thee wed.”
Next, Kingsley handed Hermione Ron's wedding ring.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” he coached. She slid the ring onto Ron's finger, fighting back tears.
“With this ring, I thee wed.”
“Very well. With the power invested me by the ministry of magic, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mr. Weasley, you may kiss your bride.”
But Ron had already moved toward Hermione, and was kissing her with everything he was worth. She kissed him back, too, ignoring the salty tears that were pouring down her cheeks, completely unguarded as she clutched onto her husband. The crowd rushed up to them, first Harry and Ginny, then their parents, and then everyone else, wishing them well and crying almost as hard as they were. Hagrid could be heard, his loud honks in the background, and McGonagall was trying not to cry as well as she attempted to quiet him. The newlywed couple was rushed over to the reception, where Harry and Ginny made speeches about them. Dinner was served, and Hermione and Ron ate, somehow, holding hands under the table. All through the meal, Ginny and Harry stole their attention, talking to them about vows, and how beautiful the ceremony was. Hermione and Ron, although dying to talk to each other, were too polite to blow off their friends. When they were finished, they went to cut the cake, and they happily fed each other, laughing as Ron kissed Hermione as to steal some of her cake. From the crowd, little Teddy Lupin could be heard yelling,
“Ewww!”
But Hermione and Ron didn't care. They laughed as they pulled apart, and Mrs. Weasley rushed over to start dolling out more cake for the guests. Suddenly, Rose's voice rang out from the DJ station, where she had just jumped up, flushing happily.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I now present to you, for their first dance ever as a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley.”
And then there was screaming and clapping as Hermione and Ron walked out onto the dance floor and started swaying to their selected song. 'Hello', played, and Hermione laughed, remembering.
“I don't expect you to sing this time, don't worry.” She said, but he did anyways, just because he knew it would make her happy.
“I can't believe this is really happening.” Hermione admitted, after he had stopped at the chorus so that he could kiss her tenderly. “But I'm so glad that it is.”
They danced in silence for a little while, until Ron suddenly broke it.
“Hermione, that cake was amazing. What was the filling in it?” he asked.
She laughed and said,
“Four words, Mr. Weasley.”
“And what would those be, Mrs. Weasley?”
Hermione leaned over, her lips near to his ear as if she were about to tell him a secret.
“Triple. Chocolate. Ice cream.”
A/N: ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO, YOU GUYS! Be prepared for an exquisitely long author's note at the end of it... anyways, PLEASE tell me what you thought of this. I wrote the vows several times before giving up and settling with these. I'm not sure if I like them, but I just couldn't write anymore. ~writergirl8
A merry fire was roaring in the large fireplace. The white of the mantle stood out against the warm burgundy wall. A red headed man was sitting on the couch, his arm draped lovingly around his bushy haired wife. The other arm was draped around the back of the worn and comfortable couch, directly leading to the hand that was protectively clutching the stem of a glass of red wine. The red headed man and his bushy haired wife were bantering happily about something, turning to gesture towards the many pictures on the mantle every so often. Dead center was a picture of the two people, taken ten years prior. The woman was beaming up at the man, looking radiant in her white wedding dress. Next to her, the man was gazing down at her with simple adoration gracing his features. On his other side was a man with messy black hair and a famous lightening scar, faded, but never to be forgotten. Next to him were the groom's parents, smiling so hard they looked like they were about to burst. On the other side of the blushing bride was a beautiful red head, smiling brightly, one hand on her bouquet, one hand resting peacefully on her stomach. She was the only thing separating the bride from her parents, a teary mother, her arm held by a gruff looking husband.
On the other side of this picture was a picture of a baby girl seated in a bathtub, blinking innocently up at the picture taker. Her little tufts of red hair were sticking up from bath shampoo. Her laughing mum darted in and out of the picture, fixing the disgruntled child's hair so that it kept sticking up. A picture of a small boy was placed on the other side of the wedding picture. He looked about five years old, and he was seated next to his father. The two were wearing identical facial expressions, their bodies formed the same way. They were seated on the edge of the couch, watching a quidditch game with wide eyes. They jumped up and punched their fists into the air at the exact same moment. In the corner of the picture, almost out of sight, the two women of the house exchanged laughing glances and rolled their eyes, giving off the impression that this was a regular occurrence in the Weasley household.
On the other side of this picture was a picture of the annual Weasley-Potter Quidditch match. The picture depicted Hermione scoring a goal on a very shocked Ron, leading Harry to fall off his broom in surprise, and Ginny to almost tip over from her gasps of laughter. Hugo and Lily stood shocked on the ground with Rose, the picture taker, and James watched his parents, laughing. Teddy Lupin was up in the air, a beater's bat in his hand, and he was bobbing up and down next to Albus, who was trying to calculate, inside of his head, how Aunt Hermione could ever score on Uncle Ron. Next to the picture of the baby girl was a picture of all the current Weasleys/Potters/Lupins, taken by an enthusiastic Mr. Weasley, who darted into the picture at the last minute, a cheesy grin spreading across his face. James was giving Al bunny ears, and Rose was glancing up at the camera with a surprised look on her face, as if she had been so lost in her book she couldn't remember how she'd gotten into this position. Teddy and Victoire kept throwing each other secretive glances when they were sure the other wasn't looking, blushing whenever they happened to be.
Next to this photo was one that neither Rose nor Hugo really understood. It depicted Hermione posing with a beautiful woman with pale skin, auburn hair, and neon green eyes. It was the only picture on the mantle that wasn't moving. Although Rose had been told many times that this woman was her namesake, the only attention Rose Senior ever got was a single question:
“Why is she on our mantle?”
At which Ron would watch as Hermione bent down to Rose's level and said,
“She, my love, is the reason you are here.”
Of course, then, Rose said that she thought she was there because daddy put the broomstick through the hoop, and Hermione would laugh as Ron flushed and tell Rose that someday soon she would know the whole story. The final picture on the other side of the mantle was a signed photo. Neither Ron nor Hermione really wanted in up, but both agreed that sometimes they needed it. Colin Love had his arms spread out wide, Ron and Hermione squirming uncomfortably as they were pressed back against his arms. Written below the logo for The Perfect Match were handwritten words and a flourishy signature. Above the name, Colin Love, was a request. Don't make me say I told you so. Then, written underneath in parenthesis: I told you so.
On both ends of the mantle were two large bouquets of roses. Both had the same amount, and none of these roses had ever had to be replaced in their eleven years of existence. Each rose had a tag on it's stem. The Perfect Match date one. The Perfect Match date seven. The mantle described the Weasley's relationship, their wedding, their children, the road they had taken to get to where they were. Both Ron and Hermione often sat on their couch and looked at the pictures, at everyone that they cared about. They now laughed at how silly and young they were before they were married. Hermione often said that it felt like another life, another world, even. As you neared the couple, you could tell that they were laughing together, identically happy smiles etched onto their faces.
“So, really, Ginny got the better end of the deal, and she hasn't got anything to complain about. When Rose starts dating a guy you've never even met, you'll have no problem beating him up, as he isn't Harry.”
“Rubbish.” Ron said, kissing the top of his wife's head. “That's why we had Hugo.”
Hermione side glanced at Ron, her mouth spreading into a mischievous grin.
“No, now, if I remember correctly, we had Hugo because you went on a three month mission and I'd really missed you.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ron grinned, the tips of his ears, to his credit, only going slightly pink. “But that's not what we're telling the grandchildren.”
“Of course not.” Hermione nodded, adjusting her position so that she was sitting more towards her husband. “I can't believe she's going to Hogwarts in just three years. She grew up so fast.”
“Knowing you, you'll be saying the exact same thing when Hugo goes to Hogwarts.”
“Very true!” Hermione laughed. Then she frowned. “Ron, I know we've been holding off on telling Rosie about the war, but I think we're going to have to before she goes.”
“I know. I agree. Can you imagine her roaming the same halls as we did and not knowing everything we went through there?”
“Well, I'm pretty sure she'd find out sometime. And who better to tell her then us?”
“We did live it.” Ron agreed.
“I heard from Ernie McMillan's wife that they even added Harry and the second war to Binn's notes.”
“Someone gave Binns new notes? Blimey, can you imagine? I can just see the look on his...”
Ron's speech was suddenly interrupted by the piano playing entirely by itself. He opened his mouth to ask Hermione about it, but suddenly words written in delicate cursive floated into midair. Weasley Potter Productions Present they read, and Ron let out a loud groan just as the words vanished and turned into new ones. The Love Life and Times of Ron and Hermione Weasley.
“Oh god.” Ron said, just as Hermione cried, “That's Ginny's handwriting!”
Starring Rose and Hugo Weasley as younger Ron and Hermione.
“Our own offspring!” Ron hissed to Hermione.
Albus Potter as young Harry Potter.
Lily Potter as Ginny Weasley.
James Potter in various parts, and also as older Harry.
Teddy Lupin as Viktor Krum and also older Ron.
Victoire Weasley as older Hermione.
Beside her, she heard Ron's knuckles crack, and she immediately covered his hand with her own. Suddenly, Hugo and Al sprang out from behind the kitchen doors, both sporting faux Hogwarts robes. They sat down on two chairs facing each other, and Al stuck his hand out.
“Hi, Al. I'm Ron Weasley. What's your name?” Hugo asked.
“Oh, I'm Harry Potter.” Al said, puffing his chest out and adjusting the pair of glasses he was wearing. He sighed and turned towards the kitchen. “Mum, my glasses are too loose!”
Ginny's (dead) head poked out of the kitchen door and she glared at her son.
“Al, it'll be fine. Get on with it!”
“Right,” Al said, turning back to Hugo. “Nice to meet you, Hugo.”
“Nice to meet you, Al.” Hugo replied.
Suddenly, a petite figure burst into the room, clutching a book to her chest. Rose walked into the compartment, put her hands on her hips, and said,
“You have dirt on your noooooose.” Suddenly, she spotted Al and started jumping up and down. “Ohmigod! YOU'RE HARRY POTTER!”
Ron smirked as Hermione's hand flew to her mouth.
“I did not sound like that.” she hissed, and Ron nodded and patted her hand sympathetically.
“Yeah, I am.” Al said. Both children turned toward Hugo. At the sight of his cousin and sister's eyes on him, Hugo started looking frantically around the room, suddenly spotting something on the mantle. He grabbed the package, which, upon further inspection Hermione realized to be a pumpkin pasty wrapper, then opened it and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Hugo! Manners!” Hermione cried, just as he opened his mouth and said to Rose,
“I'b Won Wethwee.”
Three desks moved into the room and set themselves up next to each other. The three children hurried to sit down.
“It's levioooosa. Not leviosaaaa!” Rose insisted in her terrible posh voice. James emerged from the kitchen wearing a tall wizard's hat. “Yes, Professor Flitwick?” Rose said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“You got a 112 on your charms exam.” James squeaked. Hugo turned to Rose.
“You're a know it all. I hate you.” He said. She burst into false sobs and went to sit in the corner of the room. James once again burst through the kitchen door, roaring, and this time dressed in a troll costume, accessorized with a tin foil club.
“I AM A TROLL!” James yelled, and Hugo, Al, and Rose all attempted to stifle their giggles by pressing their hands to their mouths.
“I'LL SAVE YOU, HERMIONE!” Hugo yelled, grabbing a piece of wood as his wand. With a few slashes of the useless weapon, James roared and fell to the ground.
“Oh, Ron!” Rose cried, rushing over to Hugo.
“That's right. I'm awesome. Now let's go eat.”
The play progressed to show Hugo being knocked out by a giant chess piece (once again being played by James) and Rose rushing over to him, sobbing.
“Please don't leave me, Ron.” she slurred between her surprisingly convincing fake tears. After a few seconds of this dramatic crying, Hugo sprung up and said,
“I am not going to tell you I love you, Hermione, because I am an insensitive jerk.”
From the kitchen, Hermione heard Ginny snicker. Looking over at Ron, she noticed that his face had turned bright red. Laughing into her hand, Hermione watched as the words second year flew into the room. Hugo got up and started pacing, looking extremely woebegone.
“Hermione has been petrified.” he sighed, sounding a lot like Eeyore. “And earlier this year she was turned into a cat.” (Hermione buried her face into Ron's shoulder) “She was a lovely cat.”
“You were.” Ron whispered, just as Rose waltzed into the room. She noticed Hugo, then jumped into his arms and threw her arms around his waist. After a few seconds of hugging each other so hard it looked like they were trying to kill each other (as a matter of fact, they probably were, seeing as they were brother and sister and tended to take advantage of the fact that hugging meant that they were actually allowed to squeeze each other as hard as they possibly could), Rose pulled away and walked back into the kitchen. Hugo turned toward his parents, blinking, and said,
“That was nice. I liked it. But I'd bet she likes Harry, so it's not going to occur again until I'm seventeen.”
With that, the words third year floated before the set, and Hugo ran to the kitchen to grab something. He came back holding a rat, Animal, who was James', and Rose's kitty, Crookshanks JR.
“Look! Scabbers is shivering in fear!” Hugo said.
“Because of Crookshanks?” Rose asked incredulously.
“Yeah. He's going to eat my rat!”
“Hmph.” Rose said, and then she turned on her heel and walked into the back of the room. Everything went dark for a second, and then Hugo's voice could be heard crying,
“MY RAT! HE'S GONE! THERE'S BLOOD! HE'S DEAD!”
The lights turned on, and Hugo bolted over to Rose, who was petting Crookshanks.
“What is it, Ron?” she asked disdainfully.
“Your cat ate my rat.” Hugo seethed. Rose yawned complacently.
“Sure he did.”
“I hate you!” Hugo said again.
“I hate you too!” Rose shouted. Then she got up and started walking towards James, who was wearing a blond wig. Rose punched him in the nose, and he let out a loud yelp.
“Oh, my NOSE!” he cried, writhing on the floor and milking the fake punch for all he was worth.
“That felt good.” Rose breathed, turning around and beaming.
Hugo nudged Al.
“I am extremely turned on right now.”
“HOLD IT!” Hermione jumped up, holding her arm out. “Ginevra Potter, how could you have my six year old child say that?”
Rose and Hugo blinked up at their mum as Ginny walked out of the kitchen and crossed her arms.
“He doesn't know what it means.” she said, looking annoyed as she backed back into the kitchen.
Hermione bent down in front of Hugo.
“Do you know what that means, love?” she asked.
“No.” Hugo said honestly.
“Okay, fine.” Hermione said, and she sat back onto the couch next to a very amused Ron, muttering incoherent sentences about difference in parenting styles. She snuggled closer to Ron as Fourth Year came into play, and he automatically started to stroke her hair. Rose, Al, and Hugo all sat side by side on a bench as Lily and Teddy walked into the room, seven year old Lily was in a blue dress, Teddy in a fur collar.
“She's pretty.” Hugo said, pointing to Lily.
“Look at him! Oh, he's dreamy!” Rose swooned in the direction of Teddy. Just then, James walked into the room, sporting a gray beard and purple robes.
“That's Viktor Krum.” he said in a whithered voice, “And that's Fleur Delecour. There's going to be a tournament. And a ball. Thank you.”
Then he left the room.
“A ball!” Rose squealed. “Oh my gosh! What am I going to wear? Who shall I go with?” She looked over at Hugo, then started to gaze longingly Teddy.
“I wasn't like that!” Hermione said loudly. “Besides, I fancied Ron at that point.”
“Shhhh!” Rose said, putting her hands on her hips and doing an awfully Hermione-like movement.
“She can't use that look on me,” Hermione whispered to Ron, her brows knit together furiously. “I gave her that look!”
Ron chuckled and moved his hand from Hermione's hair down to her back, where he proceeded to rub it in soothing circles.
“I don't know what made me do it.” Hugo groaned, sitting down on the floor and hiding his head in his hands. Suddenly he looked up. “Hey! You're a girl!”
“Well spotted.” Rose said, rolling her eyes.
“Come with me to the ball!” Hugo suggested brightly.
“No.” Rose said shortly.
“C'mon. It's alright for a guy to go alone, but for a girl it's kind of pitiful.” Hugo said tauntingly.
“I will not go to the ball with you, and I won't be going alone, because believe it or not somebody has already asked me!” Rose hissed, standing up and winking at Teddy. He winked back, trying not to laugh, and Hermione realized that Aunt Ginny must have been paying him a lot of money to do this.
“WHO'RE YOU GOING WITH!” Hugo yelled.
“Inside voices, Hugo.” Hermione said, and once again Rose rolled her eyes as she said her line.
“It's a surprise.”
Everyone walked into the kitchen, where Hermione and Ron could hear Ginny handing them clothing and the pieces being put on over their Hogwarts costumes. All of the actors returned at the same time, looking dashing in their yule ball outfits. All six of the children started to dance with someone, James prancing around the room by himself. Hugo glared at Rose while she danced with Teddy, or, Krum. Finally, the group broke apart when Hugo started bellowing at Rose.
“HE'S USING YOU!”
“WHAT? NO, HE'S NOT!”
“YES... HE IS! HE'S TRYING TO GET TO YOU THROUGH HARRY!”
“Well you know what the solution is, right?” Rose asked, looking near tears.
“NO!” Hugo responded, still yelling.
“Next time there's a dance, ask me before someone else does, and not just as a last resort.”
Ron squeezed Hermione's hand, and she squeezed back. Just then, Rose stomped off and Hugo sat down and started to cry.
“Okay, that is not what happened.” Ron protested, jumping out of his seat.
“What? You didn't cry over me?” Hermione asked in mock horror.
“Well... I did... but not when anyone else was around and they were very manly sobs. Yeah, they were man sobs!”
“Man sobs?” Hermione asked, bursting out into hysterical laughter.
“Shut up.” Ron said, and Hermione patted his arm, half amused, half sympathetic as Ginny poked her head out of the kitchen and stuck her tongue out at Ron.
“That was for the comment you made at Sunday night dinner two weeks ago.” she said smugly. Ron started to swear at her, but Hermione roughly grabbed his arm and pulled him down.
“Please, do not swear in front of our children, Ron.” Hermione said, glaring at him. “God forbid one of them turns out like you did.”
Ginny snorted as she ushered the children back into the kitchen to put on their Hogwarts robes.
“I thought you liked the way I turned out!” Ron said indignantly.
“Well, I do, but I wouldn't want my son to have any of your bad traits.”
Ron's retort was drowned out by a shushing noise as the children walked back into room, along with the words Fifth Year. Rose started walking along the length of the room, her eyes fierce.
“It's sort of fun, isn't it? Breaking the rules, I mean.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Weas- er- Granger?”
Rose stopped and stamped her foot impatiently.
“Hugo, you ALWAYS mess up that line! Mum wasn't always a Weasley. She was a Granger for twenty three years, and then she fell in love with dad and got married to him! And then we came along when her name was Weasley.”
“Okay, that's enough.” Ginny said, pushing Harry out into the scene. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and he threw her a guilty smile.
“Can't you put a leash on your wife?” Ron asked, and Hermione slapped his hand and gestured for Harry to proceed. He cleared his throat, then picked Rose up. Her face turned red, and Hermione realized that Harry was tickling her instead of just holding her. Rose, however, refused to back out of character, just because Uncle Harry was making her scream with laughter.
“Grawp! NO!” Rose squealed between giggles. Hugo ran at his Uncle's leg and started punching it. Finally, Rose pointed her finger at Harry and said, “Grawp! Put. Me. Down.”
Grinning, Harry put down his niece, and everyone rushed out of the room.
Act Two came into view, and Teddy, Victoire and James came out and started chopping things up.
“Slughorn's having a Christmas party.” Victoire said casually.
“Oh. I expect you'll be going with McLaggen.” Teddy replied scathingly.
“I was going to ask you, actually.” Victoire said, rounding on him with a pink face. Teddy and Victoire were much better actors than Hugo and Al, and a little better then Rose, so the storyline suddenly became more interesting.
“Oh.” Teddy turned to Victoire with wide and hopeful eyes.
“But if you'd rather I go with McLaggen...” Victoire said angrily, averting her gaze.
“No. I wouldn't.” Teddy took a deep breath. “I want... well, I want to go with you.”
Slowly, tentatively, Victoire reached over and took Teddy's hand. He smiled at her.
“Wait- that doesn't make sense.” Hermione said. “We didn't hold hands until we were seventeen.”
Ginny emerged from the kitchen mid eye roll.
“Well, you guys are unbelievably slow and boring. I had to take some liberties.”
“Wow, Ginny.” Ron said, shaking his head. “If you're going to recreate our love story, at least do it right.”
Victoire and Teddy looked at each other uncertainly.
“Oh, continue.” Hermione and Ron said simultaneously. Teddy stood up, and James walked over to Teddy. They both headed into the kitchen. A few seconds later, they burst through the door, Teddy with a remarkably red face.
“MY SISTER SNOGGED DEAN?” he yelled. “WHAT? I THOUGHT SHE WAS A PERFECT LITTLE ANGEL!”
“She is perfect.” James said.
“I wish I could snog Hermione.” Teddy sighed.
“Errrr...” James said. He turned to the door, looking grateful as Victoire walked into the room, looking cheery. But as soon as Teddy saw her, he grabbed a dummy that was sitting in the corner of the room and pressed his lips to it. Victoire froze, then burst into tears at the sight of Teddy snogging 'Lavender'. Victoire took her wand out and pointed it at Teddy, whose eyes widened. He pretended to run away, then walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. Victoire sat delicately next to him and pretended to scrutinize a piece of paper.
“No, listen. They aren't afraid of garlic, they just don't like it.”
“Oh, you're talking to me now?” Teddy said. Victoire ignored him.
“I'll do your opening and closing, but that's it.”
“I love you, Hermione.” Teddy sighed gratefully, slumping back against the couch, then winking playfully at his aunt. She rolled her eyes, smiling, and gestured back to Victoire.
“Don't let Lavender hear you say that.” Victoire responded.
“I won't. Or maybe I will. Then she'll break up with me.”
“Just break up with her!” Victoire snapped.
“I can't. I'm scared, like a little tiny bird.” Teddy said softly.
“Coward!” Victoire teased, just as Ron stood up and roared Ginny's name.
“Yes?” Ginny asked innocently.
“I was not scared to break up with Lavender!”
“Yes you were!” Hermione, Harry, and Ginny said in unison.
“Fine. But that still doesn't give you the right to compare me to a little bird.”
“I'm your wife. I hereby give Ginny consent to compare and contrast you to a little tiny bird to her heart's content.”
“Ooohh, the woman has spoken.” Harry smirked, before withdrawing himself from the scene.
“I thought you loved me.” Ron complained.
“Oh, but I do.” Hermione said, winding her hand around his neck and bringing his lips down to meet hers.
“Baby number three.” Ginny said loudly, swinging the door to the kitchen shut. The pair broke apart and turned to look at a disgusted Teddy and Victoire.
“Anyway.” Teddy said, and then he got onto the floor and started murmuring “'Ermione!”
Victoire gasped, fell to her knees, and grabbed his hand. The dummy Teddy had been using as Lavender suddenly moved, and it walked toward the pair. When it spoke, Ginny's voice filled the room.
“That's it. I'm breaking up with you.”
Finally, the words Horcrux Hunt appeared in the air. Ginny and Harry walked into the room, drew up two chairs behind Hermione and Ron, then sat down. Teddy ran off of the set, and Victoire called after him. She started to cry, and punched him several times in the gut when he came back. They ran over to the back left corner of the room and grabbed some fake basilisk fangs, then started running back over to James.
“They've only practiced this once.” Ginny whispered to Hermione. “And I wasn't there.”
“WAIT!” Teddy yelled, and Victoire stopped running a good eight paces away from him. “We've forgotten the house elves!”
Hermione's stomach tightened nervously as she comprehended what was about to happen.
“You mean we need to get them fighting?” James asked.
“No. We have to get them out of there! We don't want any more being hurt.”
Victoire paused, steeling herself, then took a deep breath. Teddy nodded at her, and she flew at Teddy, threw her arms around him, and kissed him on the lips. When it became too awkward to watch anymore, Harry and Ron cleared their throats, and the two broke apart, flushing and beaming shyly at each other. Ginny grinned widely and said,
“Why don't you guys go off and talk?”
“But what about the rest of the play?” Teddy asked.
“Ach, we know what happens. Maybe we'll do it for their twentieth anniversary.”
Victoire and Teddy nodded, and Hermione inconspicuously waved her wand to turn the girl's hair color back to its silvery blond as they exited the room.
“Ahh, young love.” Ginny sighed, taking a sip of Hermione's wine.
“Ten years married and your view of love is kind of boggled, though.” Ron said without thinking. “What?” he asked at Hermione's glare. She jabbed him. “I still love you!” Ron said hastily. “It's just... I've learned that some new things about the subject. Before, I was like 'Love is thinking that you can't live without a person and being willing to do anything for them'. Although I still can't live without you... well... now I'm thinking that love is holding someone's hand while they're giving birth and being there to help them even though times are so tough you can hardly stand them.”
“I know what you mean,” Harry said. “With the kids, I feel like I'm performing an act of love for Ginny just by picking up milk at the grocery store.”
“I do love it when you do that.” Ginny said, wiggling her eyebrows at her husband. He grinned back at her. “So,” Ginny started, turning to Hermione and Ron. “Ten years married. What's the best part? Besides not constantly being afraid of Hermione leaving you for Viktor Krum, Ron.”
“Er- I dunno.” Ron said. “I guess Rose and Hugo are the best thing. But there are lots of little things, too. You know, I still grin every time I hear someone say Hermione Weasley.”
Hermione nodded.
“Me too. This isn't an out of earth experience for me anymore. I know it's real, but I don't think I'll ever be able to let go of how hard we worked to get where we are.” she laughed, then said, “It seems simply odd that we've been married for more time then it took us to actually get together. The seven years seemed so much longer.”
“It's difficult to believe that we've been best friends for twenty two years.”
“I feel like I know you too well for that little number.” Hermione agreed.
“So, Hermione, what's your favorite part of being married to Ron for ten years?”
“Being able to walk into the bathroom while Ron is taking a shower.” Hermione said without blinking an eyelash or even considering any other answer.
“You wanna think about that, Hermione?” Ron asked mockingly, while Harry and Ginny stared at her.
“Well, when we were just living together, I could never do so much as walk in there while he was showering! If I ever needed something, I had to wait an hour. Now, I can not only walk in, but I'm welcomed! If I need to pee, I go right in there. If I need to grab a band aid, I can just waltz in, no problem. It's amazing.”
“Ditto.” Ron said sarcastically. “Yeah, screw the kids, we can walk into the bathroom 24/7 now!”
“Speaking of kids, we need to go.” Harry said, getting up. “Lily needs her sleep.”
“I think they went to the playroom.” Hermione said, and Harry headed off to find his kids. “And Victoire and Teddy are probably on the balcony in the attic. She loves it up there.”
“It's the middle of December.” Ginny reminded Hermione.
“It's heated.” Hermione told her.
Harry came back with all five of the kids trailing after him.
“Say goodbye to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny.” Ron said, kissing the top of Rose's head.
“Goodbye.” Rose said cordially.
“And don't forget to thank them for taking care of you.” Hermione piped in, smiling at Harry and Ginny. Hugo leaned against her, and she ran a hand through his hair.
“Thank you.” Rose and Hugo chorused.
“Well done.” Ginny teased.
“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow your Quidditch book, Uncle Harry.” Hugo added.
“No problem.” Harry said easily.
“Happy anniversary, Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron.” Lily said sweetly.
“Night, you lot.” Ginny laughed, closing the door.
“Okay, bedtime!” Ron said, clapping his hands together as he turned towards his two children.
“No!” Rose and Hugo complained. Hermione raised an eyebrow at them and, realizing that the point of protesting was rather moot, Rose and Hugo shut their mouths and instead decided to make a competition of who could get up the stairs faster.
“Ah, how I love being a mother.” Hermione said lightly, taking Ron's hand. “It gives me so much power.”
“I know. I don't know how you do that. They never listen to me. Except when I'm mad.”
“That's because you're a total softie, and they know they can break you.” Hermione said, placing her head on Ron's shoulder as they made their way up the wide staircase.
“Am not! Can not!” Ron protested. Hermione turned to look him square in the eye.
“Ron, they flew around on your broomstick when we'd specifically asked them not to, and you still gave them ice cream. George got in more trouble than they did!”
“Well, he was the one that gave our children a lock pick.” Ron replied, defending himself.
“But they made the choice to disobey their parents.” Hermione reminded him. “And yet they still got rewarded. And you didn't even give them vanilla! Oh, no. You gave them chocolate.”
“Triple chocolate.” Ron confessed. Then he sighed. “Fine. Our children are minxes. I deserve to be disrespected by them.”
“That's the spirit!” Hermione cheered sarcastically. Her smile grew softer. “The truth is, Ron, they make me melt, too. I mean, how could they not? They're both exact mixes of me and you, and that never ceases to amaze me. However, I never let them know that my insides are jelly. You need to know the appropriate time to show them that you are, in fact, a weakling.”
The two had just reached Hugo's room. Hermione opened the door and walked into the room. It was a dark blue, with pictures of wizards on broomsticks painted all over the wall. Quidditch posters were spread around the room, all depicting Hugo's favorite players flying around in their glory. On a dresser across from his bed lay little pictures of him with his Grandfather, who he loved dearly. Arthur and Hugo often enjoyed talking about muggle things together, and Hugo never failed to be fascinated by both the muggle and magic world. Hermione had an inkling that her son was going to have a job with something to do with muggles when he grew up, like a liaison. Either that, or a Quidditch player. The man himself was lying on his side in bed, the book Harry had just given him being held up by his pillow. Hugo was almost cross eyed trying to read it. Ron liked to sleep on his back, and Hermione and Rose both liked to sleep on their stomachs, so no one knew why Hugo slept on his side, but that was the way it had always been, ever since he was a baby.
“Hi, sweetheart. Ready for bed?” Hermione asked, coming over to the side of the bed.
“Yeah.” Hugo said, and then he closed his book and lay it carefully on his bedside table. “Daddy, will you tuck me in?” Hugo asked. Ron nodded, then went over to his son, lifted off the covers, then sheets, then lay them on the bed and patted the covers down close to Hugo's body. With a sleepy nod and a smile, Hugo allowed his mum to push his bangs back and kiss his forehead, then his dad. Hermione shut off the lava lamp on the right side of the bed, and Ron took the regular reading lamp on the left. Finally, Hermione handed Hugo the stuffed broomstick that he always hugged when he slept.
“Hugo, tomorrow you're cleaning your room.” Hermione reminded him just as she was about to shut the door.
“No!” Hugo argued softly, his eyes closed. “You can't make me.”
“We brought you into this world, we can take you out.” Ron said good naturedly.
“Daddy and I will help.” Hermione said. “And if you do it you might just get rewarded.”
“Okay.” Hugo said, involuntarily moving his legs around under the covers. Hermione smiled softly to herself, then shut the door three-fourths of the way, just as she always did. Meanwhile, Ron walked over to the bathroom, across the hall from Hugo's room, and flipped the left switch on so that his son would be able to sleep. Never the right, always the left. It was just the way Hugo liked things.
Next, and last, they headed into Rose's room. True to form, she was lying in bed on her stomach, reading a book as well. Whereas her six year old brother had been engrossed in a small book about sports, Rose's attention was fixed on a tomb much too big for a eight year old. Unlike Hugo's room, Rose's sanctuary was the color of a rose, not quite pink but not too red. Somewhere right in the middle. Her canopy bed was home to soft pink covers, so light that you could barely see the pink tinge. Rose was no girly girl, but did take pride in her name. On the scale, she'd fall somewhere between her mother and her Aunt Ginny. A lamp was emitting a soft glow, lighting up to room and making Rose look a little pinker then usual. Ron tickled his daughter's feet, and she turned around, her long red hair flying. It wasn't as bushy as Hermione's had been, and Hermione knew that it would either get straighter or curlier as time went on.
“Daaaaad.” Rose said, looking up at Ron with reproachful eyes.
“Yes?” Ron said, looking around innocently. Rose laughed.
“You're not allowed to tickle me.”
“Who said anything about tickling?” Ron asked.
“Actions speak louder then words.” Was Rose's cunning reply. Ron let out a false groan.
“I think my eight year older daughter is wiser then I am.”
Rose said nothing, but she looked pleased with herself.
“How's Little Women coming?” Hermione asked quietly, sitting down on the bed and stroking Rose's hair.
“Good. I'm at the part where Marmee is teaching the girls a lesson on how it's not good to play all the time.” Rose replied, not looking up from her book. “I really hope Jo falls in love with Laurie. It seems as though he's already in love with her.”
Hermione bit her tongue as she attempted not to spoil the book for her daughter.
“Well, mark your spot, it's time for bed.” Ron said, trying not to laugh at his wife's obvious struggle.
Rose looked up, her eyes pleading.
“Oh, please let me finish the chapter! I'm almost done.” she added. Hermione glanced at Ron. They silently communicated, and she nodded.
“Fine.” she said, getting up. “But just the chapter.”
“Okay.” Rose turned back to her book and began to read. Suddenly, she looked up. “Mommy, will you stay and braid my hair? I've already brushed it out and everything.”
“Sure.” Hermione said, and she sat back down and gathered Rose's thick hair in her hands, then began to braid. “Maybe you can read the rest of the chapter out loud to me?” she suggested.
Rose nodded, and began to read. It wasn't until twenty-five minutes later that a very tired Hermione had headed into her and Ron's bedroom and started putting on her Pjs, attempting to be quiet and going as far as to leave the lights off as to not wake up her sleeping husband.
“You let her read an extra chapter, didn't you?”
Hermione turned around, startled.
“Guilty as charged.” she sighed, slipping on the tank top she always wore. “See. She does make me weak sometimes.”
She crawled in bed next to Ron and he kissed her softly on the lips, then drew his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head in the darkness. She let her head fall onto his bare chest and curled into a fetus position against his body. This was their pattern, what happened nearly every night, regardless of what was going on. It was unfathomably comfortable and amazingly familiar.
“I will never, ever understand your love for books.” Ron murmured.
“And I will only ever partly understand your love for Quidditch.” Hermione teased quietly.
“So be it.” Ron sighed, kissing the top of her head.
“Goodnight. I love you.”
The words were said every morning and every night, so often that they were sometimes taken for granted. But the pair could never forget their meaning. It was just that they were just as apart of Ron and Hermione as their wedding rings, and the nervous ticks that came with them. It never surprised Ron to see Hermione bring her diamond engagement ring to her lips while she was reading anymore, and it never shocked Hermione to see Ron twist his silver wedding band around his finger when he was nervous or agitated.
“Love you, too.” Hermione yawned, running her hand once through Ron's hair.
A few minutes later, Hermione's voice came through the darkness.
“It's just that... books are comforting. And even when they're not predictable, they are predictable at the same time.”
“What do you mean?” Ron asked. It was his turn to yawn now, and he did so as he posed his question.
“The thing I love most about them is... no matter what happens beyond the words once upon a time, the characters always live happily ever after.”
And so they did.
A/N: First things first, I have to say: someone nominated me for a Dobby! It's best canon, one of my one-shots called Her Own Fairytale. And ooooohhh myyyy godddd I can't believe it happened. I've wanted that since I first got onto the site. Can you believe that? I screamed so loud and called my best friend and told my parents and basically everyone I know who would actually care. Yeah, ehem, I just felt like sharing that because it's so AWESOME! Moving on...
So I'm probably not very good at goodbyes. To be honest, I've barely had any wrenching goodbyes in my entire life. Maybe one or two. But neither of them were going to be viewed by a hundred-plus people, neither of them were going to be in permanent print, and therefor neither of them required eloquence of any sort. What I'm trying to say is... this is probably one of the hardest goodbyes I've ever had to say. I'll try to make it interesting, and if it's boring... humor me. It's been 50 chapters, guys. I think I'm entitled to some melancholy.
I started working on this story in July of 2009. As many of you know (or don't, if you've never read any of my author's notes, which would not surprise me, as many reviewers seem to be rather ignorant of the stuff I put in the notes and ask questions that have already been answered. But I digress) I got the idea for this story swimming in the ocean with my cousin. On a side note, I went back there for the first time since and kept on expecting a stroke of genius to hit me. Alas, no 50 chapter fics came to mind. Then again, this wasn't exactly meant to be 50 chapters at first. At first it was supposed to be a short story, then a novella... and then it turned into this. Can you believe I actually cut two or three dates? One of them that I can remember was Ron and Hermione being put in a canoe and falling into the water... I sincerely doubt that would have been very interesting, and in the end am glad I cut it. Which is a bit of information you probably never needed to know, but in case anybody cares, here it is.
That same cousin who helped me get the idea is the one that came up with the idea for the title to this story. I know, she's brilliant, isn't she? It started out titled 'The Perfect Match', but let's face it, that's boring as hell. I actually remember the exact moment she came up with it. I remember walking up and down the bricks on the path to my house, pacing as I always do on the phone, and suddenly hearing her say the name. My voice turned squeaky with excitement, and I realized how perfect it was. At first, Triple Chocolate Ice-Cream was simply a cute little thing I put in to show how well Ron knows Hermione. But it kept coming back, until it actually made itself title worthy. Confession: I've never actually had Triple Chocolate Ice-Cream. I don't really know where that came from, why I picked that particular flavor. It was so long ago, it really was.
So what I meant to say in these past two paragraphs that have gone off on completely unrelated tangents is THANK YOU, COUSIN! Without you this story would not be fifty chapters long, would not have the same title, and would probably abandoned. While I was pre writing all the chapters, I would call her and read them all out loud to her, and she was soooo patient with me. We would spend hours on the phone, me pacing circles around my bedroom, discussing Ron and Hermione's vows and what Hermione thinks about this and why Ron thinks this and all that. Without her this story would probably have less depth. Also, thank you for putting up the stipulation “don't write anything that you would be embarrassed to read out loud to me!” As we've gotten older, I admit that's stretched a bit, but it did help keep this story 15+. And most of all, thank you for being there when I was crying after finishing the writing of this last July. In this case, Ron and Hermione getting married was so hard to write because it was the end.
I finished this story July of 2010, and it's been sitting on my flash drive ever since, waiting to be read. Which is why it was always so tough to read your reviews and not be able to tell you everything that ever happened... So, anyways, thanks to the validation-gods (aka the staff) for putting up all fifty chapters. I've been on HPFF for five years- though I think I've only had this account for three- and I still get tons of rejections, but they're so very patient with me :)
Lastly, thanks to you. You weeded through 50 chapters of mediocre writing (which has gotten a bit better as the story went on, and has gotten much better since its completion), annoying typos (which I'm afraid to say I still have trouble catching) and Ron and Hermione being total and complete idiots. On behalf of those two, I apologize ;) ESPECIALLY if you've reviewed, thanks for brightening my day since 2009. There are certain people's names who I recognize and get excited to see your reviews (amongst these are golden_trio, magiccarpet, lizmusic45, ShePotter, dablubanana, AlPadfootPotter96, loisemoses, Kittyluna, NaidatheRavenclaw, peace2lovepotter, followthebutterflies95, ang3l1c Flow3rs, and Jade) Sorry if I forgot you there, but these guys are really consistent reviewers with so many nice things to say and they really deserve thanks. -applause for awesome readers-
I'm actually not sure if anyone's been reading this since chapter one, or any of the early chapters, or even any of the chapters in that first year. If you did start reading way back then, leave me a review and tell me. I'd love to know. Also, thanks to those who have reached out and contacted me on the forums. I have made some excellent friends through this story. Example, I now literally send everything I write to magiccarpet before I post it just to bounce it off him. My cousin has long ago gotten too busy for consistent opinion giving time, so you've been a godsend for all the stuff I write. I don't know if I'd write as much/quickly without this guy, I really don't.
Which probably brings you to the thought process of, “What is she talking about? She finished this story a year ago! Is there something new coming up?” INDEED THERE IS! I've just put up the first chapter of War of the Exes. It's also prewritten, and is 25 chapters long. It's... well, I find it to be pretty awesome. It's sort of my take-two at the whole Ron and Hermione break up, how do they get back together? thing. Except it's a bit more complicated and slightly better written and there's more depth and no game show. But believe me, there are still games. Lots of them. I had such a fun time writing it, so I hope you'll read and review and tell me what you think.
Also coming up soon is Sleepless. That's a thirty chapter series of events that are connected by one thing: they all happen when Ron and Hermione can't fall asleep and depend on each other to do so. It's composed completely of my Head Canon, which is cool because I've never written a story so long based on Head Canon. Every emotion felt and thought thought in the story is something that I actually believe would happen. Unlike World According to, Because I Love You, and War of the Exes. Sometimes you have to forgo Head Canon for plot (I, personally, do not believe Ron and Hermione would break up after they got together. Maybe once for a week or two, but then they'd realize very quickly that they were being stupid and reconcile.) Anyways, I'm in the middle of writing chapter 26 and absolutely love it. That's going to come out as soon as I finish posting Because I Love You, which is 21 chapters, for the record.
In news of the sequel, I've decided that I need to take a bit more time with it before I can post it. The thing is, The World According to Perfection is all about Hermione's pregnancy and I am ashamed to say that I know just about nothing on the subject of pregnancy. I wrote the story a while ago, but I think I need to go back and edit it a lot, as well as do a bit of research on having a baby. The first time I wrote it I just asked my mom questions, but she did it quite a few years ago and couldn't really remember much depth about it. So, seeing as I don't like to have more than two stories going at the same time, it miiiight be a while until that one goes up. Who knows, maybe I'll bend my two story rule. The only thing is, updates take longer.
In the mean time, for those who might possibly get withdrawal, I have a ton of Romione on my author's page. No joke, 14 out of 18 of my stories are Romione, and I obviously have two more coming. So I hope some of you will go there and check out my other stories. Also please feel free to check out my Meet the Author page. I love getting contacted over on the forums, and you can ask my anything- from an in depth analysis of the pros and cons of all the movies (this I've actually done over there...) to my favorite word of all time. For the record, it is moot.
I'm almost crying now, so I think I'm gonna stop writing this. In conclusion, thanks to you all for being so sweet, supportive, hilarious, and patient. I love you all for reviewing so much and so kindly, and hope you will review one last time to tell me what you think of this fluffy little excuse for an epilogue! As always, ~writergirl8
EDIT 11/14/2011: Sequel now up!!!
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