#romionefanfiction

[firethecanonsfanfiction]

It Only Takes One Kiss

Title: It Only Takes One Kiss

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary:  A week after the war, and after caring for the Weasleys, Hermione can no longer put what happened with her and Ron aside.

Warnings: Very sutble sexual references.

Challenges/Prompts: 'Second Kiss' trope for @romione-trope-fest

Originally published: March 4, 2022 on ao3 and March 21, 2022 on Fanfiction.net and Tumblr.

Reposted: N/A

The Burrow was a deathly quiet that Hermione wasn’t used to. Of all the times she’d been here, it had always been filled with life and laughter and so many bodies crowded around her. Siblings were shoved into two or three tiny rooms in order to make room for visitors like herself and Harry.

Now, a solemn air had taken over this once happy place.

Hermione had done her best to be the person the Weasleys and Harry could count on. She, too, was feeling grief from all that was lost on that horrid day a week ago, but not like them. She hadn’t lost a brother, or a parent, or someone she’d known her whole life. Her parents were safely in Australia, out of harm’s way.

She hadn’t intended to, but she’d taken on the ‘mother’ role. When she could, she cooked for the family, she checked in on all of them, she tended to any non-life-threatening wounds, and she offered a listening ear or a comforting shoulder if they ever needed one.

Surprisingly, most of her time had been spent with Ginny. Not because Ginny needed her the most, but because Ginny was the one who seemed to be coping the best out of everyone. She’d shed her share of tears over her brother, but the young woman had nerves of steel, and it was her that Hermione turned to when she needed downtime.

They shared a room, and their evenings were spent in quiet conversation, with Ginny usually inquiring about the rest of her family and Hermione filling her in on how everyone was doing. Ginny was the one who ventured from her room the most and took walks outside around the Burrow’s grounds. The rest had barely left their beds.

Hermione came down to the kitchen in the late evening of the seventh day, spotting Ginny sitting at the table. She startled when Hermione entered, and Hermione saw a few tear streaks along her cheeks.

Hermione offered her a smile, which Ginny returned.

“Everything okay?” Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded. “Yes.” She wiped at her cheeks. “I mean… yes.”

Hermione gulped, realising that that was the only answer she was going to get from her friend. “I was just looking for the bandages. For Ron.”

Ron had sustained an injury to his shoulder during the final battle at Hogwarts. In his grief over losing Fred, he had failed to notice its severity until a few days later. An infection had built up, and had he gone to St Mungo’s, or had his mother been of sound mind, Hermione had no doubt it would have been cured in a matter of minutes. But Ron had refused to go to the hospital, and Molly was in no way capable of caring for herself right now, let alone her children.

So, it was left to Hermione to help him, and she was no Healer.

“How is he?” Ginny asked. The last time they’d spoken about Ron, his injury had been improving. It was slow, but when she’d checked on him that morning, some of the redness and swelling had gone down.

“Improving,” Hermione answered, collecting the bandages she’d placed inside a cupboard. “But he’d be much better off if he saw a Healer.”

Ginny nodded, but didn’t respond. Hermione left her on her own and went up the stairs to Ron’s bedroom. She drew nearer to the door, hearing the low murmuring voices of Harry and Ron. She stopped, listening for a moment. Ron was the only person Harry would talk to at the moment, and she’d hate to interrupt whatever it was they were talking about. But, if she left Ron’s bandages on too long, then his wound would only get worse.

She pushed open the door slowly, and both of them looked up.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly. “I need to…” She held up the fresh bandages, and Ron nodded.

She entered, casting a glance at Harry, who’d fallen into a sullen silence upon her arrival. He laid on the small trundle bed on Ron’s floor, but when Hermione set herself up on Ron’s bed, spreading out the ointment and bandages, he sat up. “I’ll… go for a walk,” he said without looking at them.

“You can stay,” Hermione offered, but Harry shook his head. “Ginny’s in the kitchen.” She didn’t know if Harry would take that as an invitation to talk to Ginny, but he nodded, and then left, closing the door behind him.

Hermione turned to Ron, the pair of them looking at each other with a knowing expression. “I heard you talking,” Hermione said first.

Ron shrugged and winced. “He wants to go and spend some time alone at Grimmauld Place. I told him it was a dumb idea, but…”

Hermione beckoned him closer to her, ready to do her best to treat him. He shrugged off his shirt, something that had initially been uncomfortable for both of them, but a necessity nonetheless. Still, it didn’t stop a blush from creeping up Hermione’s cheeks seeing him like that. Though, like every other time, she put her own unruly thoughts aside in favour of making sure he was getting better.

“You really should see a Healer,” she advised, slowly unwrapping her poorly applied bandages from that morning. “You wouldn’t be in as much pain if you did.”

“I don’t need a hospital,” Ron argued. “Besides, you’re a good Healer. Even if you don’t have the things an actual one might. You have a gentle touch.”

Hermione flushed at his comment, lifting up his arm to inspect it.

“Looking any better?” Ron asked.

“A little. It’s not leaking pus anymore, so that’s a good sign.” She reached for a sponge and dipped it into the ointment. Keeping Ron’s words in her mind about having a gentle touch, she dabbed it over his shoulder slowly… gently.

Ron shifted.

“Sorry,” she said, quickly pulling the sponge away, worried that it had stung.

But Ron shook his head. “It didn’t hurt. It felt…” but he didn’t finish, a red creeping up his ears.

She looked up, their eyes meeting, and that familiar flutter in her chest returned. She might have spent most of her time with Ginny, but the time alone with Ron was her favourite. She just wished she could find the words and the courage to talk about what had happened between them a week ago.

They’d kissed, and she desperately wanted to talk to him about it, and to find out what it had meant. Had it been a once off? A ‘we might die today’ kind of kiss? Or did it mean something more? So much had happened since then that the last thing she wanted was to put pressure on Ron to talk about something that seemed trivial in the scheme of things, but so often these looks — these soft touches — had occurred between them and it was driving her crazy not knowing what to do next.

Breaking his gaze, she finished sponging over the ointment and then picked up one of the fresh bandages and began wrapping his shoulder in silence. Ron didn’t speak again, though she wasn’t ignorant to the goosebumps that appeared on his flesh every time her fingertips grazed his skin.

All too soon it was over and she pulled away. “Finished,” she announced. “Do you need anything to help with the pain? I can go back down and get you something if you do.”

Ron shook his head. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

Hermione smiled, quickly trying to think of an excuse to stay where she was. Maybe another reason to initiate contact between them. She remembered that he’d hurt his hip, too.

“How’s your hip?” she asked, and without thinking she moved to take a look at, fingers touching the elastic of his shorts, before he grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him, surprised.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red. “That’s pretty much better.”

“Maybe if I just look at it and —”

“It’s fine,” Ron said, this time with more force, moving her hands away from him.

Hermione blinked, and her eyes trailed back down to where she thought the injury was. And now she saw why he reacted as he had — the slight bulge in his pants.

She flushed and busied herself with tidying up the used bandages and everything else.

Oh.

At least she now knew that the attraction wasn’t one sided.

Ron’s eyes were on her as she gathered the stuff into her arms. She felt them burning into her as if nothing else mattered to him.

Making sure to keep her eyes above his shoulders, Hermione finally looked back at him again. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, not really sure why she was apologising for it.

Ron seemed to think the same thing, for despite his burning ears, he looked amused.

They stared at each other for a few more moments before she sighed, setting everything back on the bed. She needed to talk to him about it, even if it was for him to say he wasn’t ready to take anything further. She’d completely understand if that was how he felt, given what he was going through, but it would be better than the dancing around the topic which was all they were doing now.

“I know this is awful timing,” Hermione began, “but… I don’t think we can just pretend nothing happened last week.”

She saw Ron visibly swallow, but he nodded.

She ploughed on. “Did it… did it mean something? I mean… it wasn’t just a kiss, was it?” She tried to hold his gaze, but lost her nerve and looked away.

“It meant a lot.” Ron’s reply was soft and quiet — barely audible, but meaningful.

She looked at him again, surprised to find that he was smiling. He looked relieved, perhaps that she’d finally brought it up.

She returned his smile, feeling her breath leave her. “Oh… it meant a lot to me, too. I mean… I didn’t just kiss you because I thought we were going to die or anything.”

“Yeah, I know that. I mean, I think I knew that at the time. It wasn’t like that for me either, just so you know.” He smiled again and she felt her cheeks tinge pink.

“I’m glad.” She fidgeted with her hands, wringing her fingers together and trying to figure out what to say to him next. “I guess this means… well, I’m not really sure what it means? What do we do? Er… what do you want to do, I mean?” She was blabbering, she knew, but she wasn’t used to having a conversation like this.

“I dunno.” He was still smiling at her, like he couldn’t quite believe she was there and they were talking about this.

“I like you,” Hermione blurted out. She flushed a moment later.

“I like you, too. A lot." Ron’s ears tinged red again. "I mean, you saw… wow, it feels good to be finally saying I like you out loud."

Hermione flushed again, finding it very hard to keep a smile off her face. She swallowed, keeping her eyes on his face despite her growing desire to lower her gaze again. “Well, I think… I think we need to do this slowly. If we do anything, that is. I mean… I hope… I just…” Her cheeks were burning now and Ron could tell.

He was fighting back a laugh and she didn’t know if it was due to amusement or happiness. Maybe it was a bit of both. “I’ll go as slow as you want. Where do you want to start?”

Hermione was grateful to learn that they both seemed as lost as the other, because she was going to ask him the exact same question.

Where did they start? So, they’d established that their feelings were mutual, but they’d spent seven years dodging those feelings, pushing them aside and prioritising their friendship. It felt almost like second nature to try and preserve that, even now.

“I want to kiss you again, Hermione.”

Hermione startled at Ron’s sudden frankness. He’d seemed as nervous and as uncertain as she was a moment ago, but something in his eyes showed her a new boldness within him. It had taken a lot of courage for him to say that — more than she had.

“I’m… I’m done pretending,” Ron then said, as if to explain her unasked question. “If the last week has taught me anything, it’s that I need to make every moment of my life count, because you just don’t know when it’s going to be the last moment. I’ve thought about that a lot lately while lying here feeling sorry for myself, and there’s two things that I’ve figured out.

“The first is that I loved my brother and I am going to miss him like nothing else, but I’m glad… well, I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She closed it again and waited, because he deemed to want to say more.

His eyes were focused on his Chudley Cannons bedspread as he spoke. “The second thing I worked out just now, sitting here with you. I don’t know what my last moment will be, but if it’s going to be soon, I’d be pretty happy if I ended it kissing you again. I’ve done enough pretending, I think. Pushing down feelings I so desperately wanted to feel. I’m… I’m done with it. I’m going to be honest about my feelings from here on in. No hiding them anymore. So, Hermione, I’m telling the truth when I say this. I lo —”

Hermione reached for his hands, shaking her head. “Don’t say it,” she urged, feeling the thumping of her heart in her chest. “Slowly, remember?”

He nodded. “Right. Sorry. I just… I feel it and it’s a very strong emotion. I can’t help it.”

Hermione squeezed his hands assuringly, letting him know it was okay. He looked up at her, giving her a sheepish smile.

“Just kiss me,” she pleaded. “I just want you to kiss me.”

It was all the invitation Ron needed. His hand — the one attached to his good shoulder — moved to the back of her head, drawing her towards him. Their lips met somewhere in the middle, crashing against each other in a kiss that was both gentle and desperate. Her own hands moved to his waist, gripping at his bare skin from where he hadn’t put his shirt back on. She felt goosebumps rise up on him wherever she touched him. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer toward him. Her chest exploded with so many feelings in just one kiss.

It was different from the first time. The first time had been desperate, a moment of weakness on her part. But this time it was so much better. And they were alone this time, with no one around to interrupt their moment. Her mind started to wander as her body relaxed, enjoying every time his lips met hers again.

Then suddenly, she became painfully aware of Ron’s ‘problem’ from earlier, and realised that it, and her touching his exposed skin in the way that she was, was probably only encouraging him. He didn’t seem set to break the kiss any time soon, with his mouth moving away from hers and down to her jaw before skimming over her neck…

It surprised her by how much he seemed to want her; how desperate he was for her and she pulled away in shock, ignoring the roaring fire that had sprung up in her own body and the part of her brain telling her that this was going to happen eventually, so why not now?

“Sorry,” Ron mumbled, dropping his hands from her hair and pulling himself away from her completely so that they weren’t touching at all. He looked guilty. “Too much, too fast. Sorry.”

Hermione moved forward so that she closed the gap he’d put between them. “It’s okay,” she assured him, dragging her fingers along his good shoulder, down his arm, relishing in the response she got from him. “It’s just… a little too fast for me. That side of things, I mean.”

He nodded. “It just feels so good.” His voice came out in almost a moan. “You feel so good. And finally having you here… it’s the bloody best feeling in the whole world.”

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him again, this time with a gentler touch. Ron sighed against her.

She had to agree. Feeling his hands become tangled in her hair, his palms pressed against her head, drawing her closer to him, the rapid thumping for her heart… it was better than anything she’d ever felt in her entire life.

When they broke away again, looking each other in the eye, Ron whispered, “I really want to say it.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her heart bursting to jump out of her chest and wrap Ron up forever. “I do, too.”

His lips pressed against her forehead and she fell against him, resting her head against his chest. His arms engulfed her, making her feel safe and warm.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured against her. “And all I mean is… stay. That’s all I want. To fall asleep with you next to me.”

She nodded. “I’ll stay.”

They both sighed and smiled. For the first time in a week, Hermione could safely say that she felt perfectly content exactly where she was.

#romione #romionefanfiction #romionetropefest #second kiss

[ahankar1610]

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13878923/1/

Hello people of Tumblr. Please read and review my first fic #TheTrojanPrincess.

She was supposed to be a spy, she was supposed to be a shadow, she was supposed to launch a war. But she never meant to fall in love with her husband. The Trojan Horse wasn't supposed to fight for troy. Destiny of a world changed by the action of a Peasant. R/HR, a battle within.

LINK ABOVE.

Thank you and I hope all Harry Potter and Romione fans will like it.

Special thanks to my dear friend @hermiones-amortentia for supporting me.

🤗🤗

#Romione #romione au #romionefanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #perioddrama #TheTrojanPrincess #General Ronald Weasley #Anastasia Nott

[lilyjean630]

I’ve never done this before… but just read the most amazing Shell Cottage fic and it had ZERO reviews!! So, I figured I would share it with my Romione friends!! Hope y’all like it and if so, give the author some love.

#romionefanfiction #fic rec #shellcottage #romione #daisydol #more please #didn’t get much work done today

[itspotterpandemonium-blog]

My first ever fan fic after reading a fellow fanwriters piece and deciding I couldn't resist continuing on the scene!  I’m slowly getting into writing, its been years since I wrote anything remotely creative (I have been stuck writing academic essays for years whilst studying at University which means it may take me a while to get back into the swing of more eloquently written pieces so reviews and constructive advice are greatly appreciated!).  I am currently working on a Hinny fic that will end up being a multi chapter piece as I have lots of ideas I want to explore. I have the first chapter finished and I will be posting it today after editing it again and hopefully I will have a few more chapters to add to it soon after. It will hopefully be a nice mixture of character exploration, a little smidge of angst and drama, lots of romance and of course a lemon or two! I would also love to be recommended any Romione or Hinny fan fics to read as I love finding new fics especially multi chapter ones!!

#romione #hinny #fanfic #harrypotter #harrypotterfanfiction #romionefanfiction #hinnyfanfiction #lemon #smut #romionesmut #fanfictionnet #fanfiction #hermione #ron weasley #ginny #hermione granger #ginny weasley #harry potter

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 39

Read on Fanfiction.net and ao3!

Also, I now have a Discord server set up for people who enjoy books and like talking about books. It’s new, but eventually we will have Secret Santas, reading challenges and group read-alongs. Please join if you are interested! The more the merrier!

For my oneshots and other Romione stuff, please follow @firethecanonsfanfiction

----

Chapter 39

Ron landed with Hermione in her parents’ garden, hidden by the large hedges that fronted their house. Hermione was gripping his arm tightly and didn’t let go once they had Apparated. Ron had to pry her off.

“Are you worried they won’t approve?” Ron asked, teasing as he gave her hand a squeeze.

“Of course not,” Hermione said, though he could tell her mind was a little distracted. “Still, it’s nerve-wracking trying to find a way to tell them.”

“They’ll be fine,” Ron assured her calmly. “They like me well enough, don’t they?”

“They love you,” Hermione said. “It’s still a little scary.”

“They were fine after you told them about their memories, so they’ll be fine with this.” Ron kissed her forehead as the front door opened. 

“Is there a reason the two of you are standing out the front?” It was Robert, and he was watching them both with that look he often wore — the look that said he was confused, yet amused at the same time. 

Hermione flushed and pulled away from Ron, turning to head into the house. 

“You know,” Robert said as they entered. He closed the door after them and followed them into the living room, “if you wanted some time alone, you could have come five minutes later rather than standing in our front garden. Honestly, we wouldn’t have minded if you were a little late.”

“We were just talking,” Hermione said, giving her mother a hug. Ron noticed that she quickly pulled away, tucking her left hand in her pocket. 

“It’s good to see you both,” Jane said, now hugging Ron. She barely seemed to notice Hermione’s odd behaviour. 

“You too, Mum.” Hermione smiled. 

“Do either of you care for a drink?” 

“Just some water. Thanks, Mum.” Hermione sat down on the two seater sofa in her parents’ living room, Ron beside her.

“Ron?” Jane asked. 

“I guess the same, thanks,” Ron said. The Grangers were keen on their wine for lunches and dinners, but they and Ron seemed to share different tastes and opinions about what was good. He was safest with water here. 

Jane went into the kitchen to get their drinks, while Robert flicked through the TV channels until he found one that was suitable for background noise. He joined Ron and Hermione by sitting in his favourite armchair. 

Ron glanced at the television with curiosity. Robert had settled on something Hermione had referred to as a sitcom in the past. Whatever that meant.  

“How’s your week been?” he asked, looking at them. “Work treating you well?”

“It’s fine,” Hermione said, resting her back against the sofa. “Busy, of course, but fine.”

Ron looked at her questioningly, for he’d given them the perfect opportunity to announce their engagement, but she gave a small shake of her head that went unnoticed by her father. He also noticed her hand seemingly tucked nonchalantly between her legs. 

“Ron’s been preparing for his final tests, so he’s been locked away in the study a little. There’s a lot of theory involved, along with all the aptitude tests he has to do as well. It’s going to be a busy next few weeks.” She smiled brightly. “But, it will all be worth it in the end. He’ll be fully qualified soon.”

“Wonderful!” Robert said with a genuine smile. It always amazed Ron just how pleasant her parents were toward him. How involved they were in Hermione’s (and now his) life, and how much they seemed to want to know about what was going on in a world they couldn’t be a part of. “I know how hard you’ve been working for it, Ron. Three years is a long time to persevere with training, regardless of what job it is.”

“Would be similar to university, I think,” Hermione said. “University can be longer, even.”

“What’s university?” Ron asked curiously. She’d never mentioned that before. 

“It’s... like another school,” Hermione began. “For adults. People our age. It’s what you study to get a job in the Muggle world. Like dentists.” Hermione indicated her dad. “You need to go to university for that.”

“So what’s the point in going to school all those other years, then?” Ron wanted to know. “You said you started at six or something, but all of that is worthless?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s worthless, Ron,” Robert said. “Just… different.”

Ron wasn’t sure he agreed, but said no more on the matter. He didn’t want to offend her parents, of all days. 

“How about you, Hermione?” Robert continued after a brief silence when Jane returned with two tall glasses of ice-cold water. “You still enjoying what you do?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “It’s great.”

“You said you’re starting Saturdays soon?”

“Unfortunately. It’s not forever, though. We just need to get a law written. My hours should go back to normal after about a month. Which…” she looked to Ron, “will be when his hours will change. Training is pretty standard, but Auror work is shift work. Not sure how often we’ll see each other to begin with.”

“You’ll work around it, I’m sure,” Robert said. “Maybe you’ll both end up with a Wednesday off together instead of a Sunday.”

Hermione looked at Ron and smiled. He smiled back and took a sip of the water Jane had just handed him.

“And what about you?” Hermione asked her parents. “How’s your week been?”

“Same as every other week, Hermione,” Jane said. “Nothing new. Life is pretty dull in London these days. Especially since we closed the practice.”

“I thought you were enjoying your retirement,” Hermione said. “You two should definitely take a holiday somewhere. See the world. You’d have the best time, I think.”

Both Robert and Jane laughed. 

“Oh, we’ve thought about it, I assure you,” Jane said. “We’ve discussed it, and we’re thinking maybe next summer we might hire a caravan and travel through Europe. It’s still in the works, though. It would be for the whole three months of summer.”

“Croatia was nice,” Ron said. “When we were there last year. It’ll probably be even nicer in summer.”

“Oh, yes, we’ve been there,” Jane said. “Absolutely stunning. Greece, too. We’re going to put Lithuania and Estonia at the top of our lists. Would love to go there. And maybe even travel up north to Scotland, across to Wales… Ireland as well.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Hermione set her own glass of water on the side table next to her. “Harry and Ginny have decided they’re going to move across to Wales. At least while Ginny is with her team. It’s easier for them to manage it that way, and Harry hates where he lives at the moment, so it was an easy decision for them.”

"And they're enjoying their engagement?" Jane asked. “It’s all so exciting when it’s new, and then comes all the planning.”

"Oh, yes," Hermione said. Again, Ron watched as she refused to move her own hand where she wore the engagement ring. Her desire to hide it was beginning to make him a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t embarrassed, was she? "They're so happy. I don't think I've seen Harry so happy since… since he won his first Quidditch match.”

"He's grinning like an idiot," Ron added. "Almost making training unbearable with his happiness. And they’re not really the type to get stressed over the planning side, I don’t think. Given their — um — popularity in our world, they’ll want to keep things pretty quiet and private."

"I'm so happy for him!" Jane said. "If anyone deserves to have something so mundane and normal happen to them, I would think it's Harry. The poor man, and I probably wouldn't even know the half of it."

"You wouldn't want to, Mum," Hermione said. “I don’t think Harry has even told us what’s going through his head half the time.”

"You two want another drink?" Robert then asked, noticing the two had already finished their water. 

"Thanks, Dad," Hermione said, holding out her glass for him to take. "Maybe some wine this time."

Robert accepted the glass from his daughter, and then paused. Hermione tried to wrench her hand back — she'd forgotten momentarily to hide her left one. 

Robert caught her hand in his and then looked at Hermione with a slight smirk. "Seems like you two had a more eventful week than you shared with us," he said.

Hermione flushed and returned her hand to her lap. 

"We were going to tell you," she said. "Over lunch. It was going to be a surprise."

"Tell us what?" Jane, whose view had been blocked during the short exchange, came over to stand beside her husband.

Robert looked down at Hermione with a smile on his lips. Hermione stood up, Ron also doing the same.

"Well…" Hermione looked at her mother. "Ron and I are… also getting married."

"What?" Jane said. "Since when?" She looked between them, her mouth slightly open.

"Since Friday," Hermione said. "Two days ago. Ron asked me."

There was a short pause in the Granger's living room, and then Jane wrapped her arms around her daughter in a warm hug.

"That's such wonderful news!" She turned to Ron and hugged him as well. "I’m so happy for the both of you.”

Hermione beamed at her parents. "Thanks!" she said. "It was all really sweet, was really unexpected…" She clutched Ron's arm excitedly. "We really wanted you to be the first to know."

Robert came forward to hug Hermione and shake Ron’s hand.

“Congratulations,” he said. 

“This just makes lunch so much more special,” Jane continued. “We’ll break out the best champagne we have.”

“Mum, you don’t have to —”

“This will be the only time we get to celebrate an engagement for our daughter,” Jane said. “There’s no better time.”

Hermione smiled, looking up at Ron. He placed an arm across her shoulders. 

“But before we do that, while you’re here, come upstairs with me. I’ll give you a few things that might help you start planning.”

“Mum, it’s a bit early —”

“It’s nothing wedding-y,” Jane assured her. “Just some planners I was given a while back that you might find useful. There’s a bit, though. Might need a bit of your… magic to help transport them.”

Ron dropped his arm from around Hermione. “Have fun,” he said, kissing her temple. 

Hermione followed her mum into the hall, their voices trailing up the stairs. 

That left Ron alone with Robert, which in this moment, unnerved him. His relationship with Hermione’s father over the years had been… interesting. While the man seemed to like Ron well enough, his sense of humour didn’t always gel with Ron’s, often leaving Ron wondering if he was being serious or joking. 

It had never occurred to Ron before just how Robert would react to finding out his only daughter was getting married, and learning about it in such a surprising way. If Ron was in his position, if Ron had a daughter, he’d probably be a bit… well, he didn’t actually know how he’d feel. It was hard to imagine him being in Robert Granger’s position one day.

He looked uncomfortably over at her dad. The man smiled. But was it just Ron, or did his smile not quite meet his eyes? No, that was how he usually smiled. 

Though, the impulse in Ron to prove himself as a good match for the Grangers’ only child had him stupidly saying, “I really do love her.”

“I’ve never had any doubt about that, Ron,” Robert said. “And if you said that because you feel I’m suddenly going to turn against you because you asked my daughter to marry you, you can relax.”

Ron shifted where he stood. He wondered if he could sit down, but decided against it. “Right.”

“I’ve been there before,” Robert continued. “Proposing. Anyway, it’s not my opinion that matters, even if I didn’t approve — which is not the case. Hermione’s an adult, she’s more than capable of making her own decisions, and I like to think she makes rather smart ones. She always has, so I can’t see why this would be any different. She knows what she’s doing.” He smiled wryly.

At this, Ron smiled. He relaxed slightly. 

“I’m happy for you, I really am,” Robert continued. I’ve not seen her happier since she’s been with you. You make her happy, and after what you’ve all been through, I think some happiness is well-earned.” He smiled at Ron in a very fatherly way. “The pair of you have a very strong relationship — that is obvious. You make each other happy, you love each other deeply. And I think that’s wonderful.” He held out a hand, offering it to Ron. “Welcome to the family, Ron. Officially.”

Ron accepted Robert’s hand and smiled. “Thanks,” he said. 

“You know,” Robert then said, his hand dropping to his side, “Jane and I do like our wine, but I think this might call for something… different.” He looked at Ron with a wry smile. “How do you feel about beer, Ron?”

“I’ve not had it before,” Ron said. “Unless you mean Butterbeer.”

“Is that one of your weird drinks?”

“Yes,” Ron said. “It’s not very potent, though.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s in any way similar, but —” He indicated for Ron to follow him into the kitchen and combined dining area. 

Ron obliged, not wanting to disappoint. 

Robert went to the refrigerator and took out two identical bottles. He passed one to Ron. Ron watched him twist the lid and open it, and instantly felt very stupid when he couldn’t do the same. He flushed as Robert had to do it for him. 

“I suppose if you’re not used to this, it might be tricky,” Robert said drily. 

Ron turned an even deeper red, certain he was making a horrible impression and that Hermione’s dad was reconsidering his congratulations. “Actually, it’s just… we use… magic.”

“Ah,” Robert said. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Once opened, Ron brought the bottle to his lips and tasted the drink. He almost gagged at the bitter flavour, but managed to keep a straight face.

Robert chuckled. “I can see it’s not really your thing.”

“It’s just different,” Ron said, taking another sip. It was slightly better this time. 

There was silence for a moment. Then Robert spoke. “You strike me as the romantic type, Ron. How did you ask Hermione to marry you?”

Ron drank from the bottle again before answering. “Er, well… not as I had planned it. I was going to take her to this lake we visit often. I’d asked my brother to organise fireworks and everything, but… you know what she’s like. She kind of figured it out before I got the chance.”

“That’s Hermione,” Robert said with a nod. “Very intuitive.”

“Yeah, well, she also was ready to kick me out because she learnt that I had taken a lot of money out of our account. So, I had to tell her the reason before she got the chance. I used the money for her engagement ring, by the way,” he said at Robert’s quizzical look. 

“It’s a nice one,” Robert replied.

“Yeah, it is.” Ron smiled slightly at the image still in his mind, as clear as day. “I kind of asked her on the floor of our bedroom. But she said yes after deciding not to murder me for spending so much on her. I’ve been wanting to do it for a year, almost. I just… couldn’t afford to straight away.”

Robert smiled. “Well, I really am happy for you, Ron. She loves you very much. You’ll have a very happy life together, I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Ron said. “She makes me —” He wanted to say a lot of things, but didn’t think some of them appropriate to say in front of Hermione’s dad. “She makes me happy,” was what he settled on. 

Robert nodded. “I know.”

Hermione and her mother came back after that, Hermione clutching a few folders and looking pleased. “These will be perfect, Mum. Thanks.”

“What are they?” Ron asked, taking one from her hands and flipping through it. It was a book with blank pages. 

“Mum said we can use them to plan our wedding. She’s been meaning to get rid of them for ages.”

“I find writing things down and making lists is very beneficial,” Jane said. 

Ron smiled at Hermione, and she smiled back. If they weren’t in her parents’ kitchen, he’d kiss her where she stood. She was in her element with all those empty folders, and Merlin did he love her when she was in her element. 

“So, does your family know, Ron?” Jane asked, breaking Ron’s gaze from Hermione. 

He startled. “Not yet. We’ll let them continue celebrating with Harry and Ginny. We haven’t even told Harry or Ginny yet, either, actually. We probably won’t. They think it’s happening next week.”

Hermione placed the folders on the bench. “Ron’s family has a lot to celebrate often,” she said. “So we told you first.”

At that, Jane beamed. “Well, I think we should get lunch sorted, don’t you? I think we should even maybe head out somewhere nice for this occasion.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Robert said. 

Hermione looked at Ron, and he took her hand. “Sounds good to me,” he said, beaming, and she kissed him quickly. 

Everyone smiled and Ron squeezed her hand tightly. 

He loved her so very much and now that he’d asked her to marry him, he couldn’t wait for their wedding day. 

#ron and hermione #ronandhermione #ronandhermionefanfiction #ron and hermione fanfiction #romione #romionefanfiction #romione fanfiction #ron x hermione #ronxhermione #hermionexron #hermione x ron #hermioneandron #hermione and ron #hermione and ron fanfiction #hermioneandronfanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #slice of life #romance

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 30

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!

Follow ‘whenihaveyou.romione’ on Instagram if you’d like to. 

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Chapter 30

“You know,” Ron said, unable to contain the smile that formed on his lips when Hermione emerged from their room, “one day I’m going to be literally blown away by how amazing you look, and it’s going to entirely be your fault. you look beautiful.” 

Beautiful was an understatement. Hermione was absolutely stunning. She really did like to dress up for special occasions, and while he sincerely thought she was beautiful even when she got out of bed in the mornings and her already wild hair was askew and unbrushed, his heart skipped two beats whenever he saw her with it tied up, sleaked down smooth and wearing a dress, or something more elegant than her usual attire of Ministry robes. 

It reminded him of the Yule Ball back in fourth year, or Bill and Fleur’s wedding, when she had undoubtedly been the most beautiful person in the whole room on both occasions. At least now he had the ability and the sense to let her know that that was still the case. 

“You always know how to flatter,” Hermione said; she said it in a teasing way, but he could tell she appreciated the compliment by the way her cheeks tinged a pleasurable pink. She always appreciated it. 

Ron leaned forward to kiss her, but Hermione pulled back. “Not yet,” she said. “I haven’t placed the no-smudge charms on the makeup yet. If you kiss me, I’ll have to do it all over again.”

“That’s such a shame!” Ron called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom, perhaps to see if her makeup had smudged by him just looking at her. “Also, the party starts in ten minutes, and we’re not allowed to Apparate directly into the place, so we still need to walk from the Apparition point.”

“No one ever shows up on time to a party such as this anyway!” Hermione called back, her voice muffled from the walls of the bathroom. 

“That’s a very un-Hermione-like thing to say,” Ron said, thinking of all the times she’d hurried him out the door, or into the Floo, repeating about how they’ll be late. He collapsed onto the sofa, ensuring that his no-crease charm had worked on his suit. It had, thankfully. 

Wearing a Muggle suit was such a discomfort; he didn’t know how they did it. It was tight, there were too many pieces, and after many attempts to do up a tie, Hermione had ended up using her wand, but she’d performed the spell too well and for a brief moment, Ron had been unable to breathe. 

At least for Hermione, Muggle women wore dresses that flowed either to their knees, or their ankles, or somewhere in between, and they weren’t really any different to what he’d seen Hermione, Ginny, or even Fleur wear before. 

But Ron missed his dress robes. 

A moment later, Hermione returned from the bathroom. “Ready!” she said. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Ron asked, standing up. “Or is that forbidden?”

“You can kiss me as much as you want, and this makeup won’t budge,” Hermione assured him. 

“Good!” Ron said, and he moved to her, kissing her hard, trying to make a point. 

Once he pulled away, he looked her over once again, revelling in just how lucky he felt to be with her. He loved absolutely everything about her, and more than anything he wished that this engagement party was theirs. 

After their holiday together in Croatia, after promising her that he’d ask soon, he had been so ready to do it. He was ready to do it. It was no longer a ‘one day’ for him; it was a very real, very now thing, and he was fairly certain Hermione felt the same. 

He found himself thinking about asking her in every waking moment, and just how he’d do it. It had to be romantic. He liked being romantic with her, doing nice things, and showing her how much he loved her. Maybe a dinner — though that was a little cliche, but it didn’t have to be a traditional type of dinner. Maybe he could take her somewhere special, a place they’d never been. Paris, maybe. 

And he had to get her a ring. That was something he really wanted to get right, and the biggest reason he hadn’t yet asked her. She’d already promised she would say yes to him, and Hermione being Hermione, she’d probably guess any attempt he made to surprise her. But an engagement ring was something he could surprise her with, because there were so many options that there would be no way she would guess which one he had chosen. 

The only problem with that was finding the time to get it. Ever since their holiday in mid February, Ron had been hit hard with training. He was reaching the end of his second year of Auror training, and that meant a lot of cramming of information and practice. On the weekends he should have been able to look for a ring, he was being called into the Auror Office for extra courses. He’d had absolutely no time to go anywhere at all, let alone by himself. 

Then came late March, and Percy and Audrey announced their engagement to everyone, which meant that there was no way Ron could do it without stealing the moment from his brother. 

So now, in mid May, rather than preparing for their own engagement party like he and Hermione might have hoped, they were heading off to some fancy Muggle hall, no magic allowed, celebrating the impending marriage of Percy and Audrey. 

“Is the suit bothering you?” Hermione asked.

“What?”

“You keep playing with the tie. Is it still too tight? I could loosen it some more if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Ron said, though that was a lie. He’d still much prefer dress robes, and when he did marry Hermione, everyone was welcome to wear whatever made them the most comfortable. “It’s just weird, isn’t it? They haven’t been together all that long, really. And they’re getting married already.”

“Longer than we have,” Hermione reminded him, which was technically true, but he’d loved Hermione for much longer, and for Ron, that counted for something.

“Ready to go?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “We will now officially be late.”

Hermione nodded, smiling. She accepted Ron’s offered arm and Apparated them both to the Leaky Cauldron, which was near the party. 

Personally, Ron couldn’t understand why it needed to be so fancy. Wasn’t dressing up supposed to be for the wedding, not the engagement? What was wrong with a small gathering at a house? The Burrow would have been perfect. They could have gathered in the garden. 

But over the year and a bit Ron had gotten to know Audrey, he had learnt that Audrey liked things fancy. And so did her parents. Not the Granger kind of fancy, where they’d splurge on the occasional dinner, but everything needed to be the best and the most expensive. 

Really, the fact that she was marrying a Weasley astounded Ron. But then again, she had no idea about it, and Ron was sure Percy didn’t willingly share just how difficult things had been for them all growing up. He probably flaunted all of the money he had now and Audrey thought they were all like that. 

Another thing Ron had learnt was, whilst Audrey thought she had hit the jackpot with marrying someone who could perform magic, her parents were far from impressed. Any extended family was absolutely forbidden to know, and therefore — as they were paying for the party and the wedding — their rules applied. 

No magic. 

The request had been no wands either, but Ron had his tucked firmly in his suit, and he was certain Hermione had hers somewhere as well. No doubt Percy was also carrying his. Leaving a wand in another room of a house was one thing, but to go out without it…

Audrey’s parents did not need to know that wands were used to Apparate. 

“All these rules and regulations, you’d think her parents would like Percy a bit more than they do,” Ron said as they reached the hall where the party would be. Even the outside had been elaborately decorated with very expensive things.

“Take away the magic, and perhaps they would,” Hermione said, grinning. “But you have to admit, Audrey is perfect for your brother.”

“They’re the same person,” Ron reasoned. “It’s freaky.”

“Makes them a perfect match.”

Ron smiled at her, thinking that he and Hermione were a perfect match as well. He started to say that he wished this could be them, but stopped at the last minute. Why get her hopes up — or scare her away — when he couldn’t even get her a ring?

“Come on,” he said. “I’m sure Ginny is making fun of every little detail right now.”

If the outside of the hall was elaborate, then the inside was something else entirely. Ron had attended a few weddings in his life, those of distant relatives mostly, and none of the weddings had ever looked this fancy. He’d never even heard of an engagement party until they’d been invited to Percy and Audrey’s. Hermione had said it was fairly common in the Muggle world. 

Every single spare bit of wall was covered in white and red flowers. There were round tables with white tablecloths, the centrepiece was the same flowers on the walls, but in small pots. Guests — none of whom Ron immediately recognised — mingled around the tables, glasses of wine or other drinks in hand. 

Ron suppressed the urge to tell Hermione that when they got married they were having a simple wedding and Audrey’s parents weren’t invited. 

“Oh, look!” Hermione said, not sounding anywhere near as appalled by the state of this room as Ron felt. “We’ve even got place settings. How lovely.”

They walked through the crowd, checking the names at each table. They eventually found theirs on table three, where they’d been designated seats with Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George, and Molly and Arthur. Oh, and Victoire.

“I’m expecting a surprise wedding by the end of this,” Ron said, spotting his sister in the crowd and waving her over. 

“Evening,” Ron said. “You look nice,” he added, noticing that Ginny was also dressed up wonderfully for the occasion, wearing a deep blue dress. 

“Thanks!” Ginny said, smiling. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

“A bit too fancy for my taste. Where’s Harry?”

“Talking Dad through how a water fountain works without… magic.” She lowered her voice at the last word, rolling her eyes. “I mean, we’re not stupid, we’re not all going to pull out our wands and start casting fireworks into the hall, are we? Besides, how were we supposed to get here via Apparition without our wands?”

“That’s what I said!” Ron said. “And this looks more like a wedding than a celebration to say you’re getting married one day.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Hermione said, scanning the room. “It’s always nice to dress up.”

“You look amazing, by the way, Hermione,” Ginny noted.

“That’s what I said!” Ron replied. “Doesn’t she?”

Ginny smiled, turning her head just as Harry joined them. “I don’t even know how the bloody water fountain works,” he grumbled. “I’m not a plumber.”

Everyone laughed as Audrey came over to them, smiling, with two older and wary people slightly behind her. 

“Hello, everyone!” she said cheerfully. “I’m glad you could make it. This is Percy’s brother, Ron, and his sister Ginny,” she said to the people behind her. Her parents, Ron assumed. “And their partners Hermione and Harry.”

In Ron’s opinion, Audrey’s parents looked far from impressed about having such wayward guests for their daughter’s engagement party. They probably had plans that she’d marry some wealthy businessman or something, not a red-haired, freckled and bespectacled bookworm. The only thing about Percy that would appeal to them was his pompous approach to life. 

“I trust you have received our instructions about… everything?” Audrey’s mother asked, looking them all over with uncertainty. 

“Absolutely!” Hermione said. “We completely understand.”

Ron looked at Ginny and Harry, who grinned. Not a single member of the Weasley family was here without a wand tonight. 

“Hermione grew up without magic,” Audrey said to her parents. “Remember, I told you about her?”

“Oh, yes,” Audrey’s mother said, and she gave Hermione such a fake smile she would have given Umbridge a run for her money. “Well, it’s nice to finally put faces to names. Audrey has spoken a lot about you.” She turned to leave, Audrey giving them all an apologetic smile before following. 

“Lovely people, they are,” Ron said. 

“It is a bit of a shock when you find out magic exists,” Hermione replied. 

“Yeah, but I like your parents,” Ron said. “They’re nice people.”

Hermione tried her best to look annoyed, but she smiled anyway. They all knew Audrey’s parents were rich, upper class snobs who thought themselves better than everyone else. One only had to look at the decorations to determine that.

“Come on,” Hermione said, sighing, “let’s sit down.”

They all sat around the table, taking in the finer details of the decorations. 

“These tablecloths are made from really expensive silk,” Hermione pointed out.

“How do you know they’re expensive?” Ron asked.

Hermione flushed, seeming reluctant to answer. “Because my parents have a few similar ones for special occasions.”

Ron grinned, but said nothing. Her parents could have been the rudest, snobby-ish people in the whole country, and it wouldn’t have changed his opinion of her one bit. He supposed that was how Percy felt about Audrey.

“So, how’s Quidditch going?” Hermione then said, turning to Ginny. 

“Training is good, I guess,” Ginny said. “Though I want to get out playing.”

“When will you play?” Ron asked.

Ginny shrugged. “When they need me. Probably not this season, though. Maybe next.”

“Well, whenever it’s your first game, let us know,” Hermione said. “We’ll all come to see.”

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny said, eyes widening slightly, “I never even thought about family coming to watch…”

“You’ll be fine,” Harry said, patting her on the back. “You’ll do great. I keep telling you that. You’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

Ginny smiled. “I hope so.”

They were then joined by Molly, Arthur, Bill, and Fleur, all equally dressed up in Muggle clothing. Ron was pleasantly surprised to find his parents had managed to find items that matched, though he did wonder if Audrey had helped them. She always seemed amused by wizarding style, especially those of her future inlaws. Arthur’s attempts, especially, to dress more casually had always ended in disaster. 

While Arthur also wore a plain black suit, Molly wore an ankle-length floral dress that really suited her. 

Everyone, in Ron's opinion, had done well to not stand out. 

"This is exciting, isn't it?" Arthur said, grinning from ear to ear. "I've already spoken to three Muggles along the way! One is a doctor. A Muggle Healer! He was more than happy to share with me all the details of an operation — you know, when they cut someone open. Fascinating stuff!"

"Yes, fascinating being cut open," Molly said with a sigh. "Not what I'd want to happen to me."

"Isn't that what your parents do, Hermione?" Arthur asked.

"They treat teeth," Hermione reminded him. "They don't cut — well, I suppose they've had to cut some teeth out of gums before, but nothing more than that. They’ve retired anyway."

“Fascinating!" Arthur said. "I really must remember to invite them for dinner one night and pick their brains about it." He glanced sideways to where Audrey's parents stood talking to their own family, suddenly looking disappointed. "I don't think they are as interested in sharing their stories as your parents are, Hermione."

Everyone turned to look at the couple, Audrey's mum still wearing a sour expression. 

"We are having lunch with them tomorrow," Hermione said, and everyone looked back at her. "Mum and Dad, I mean. Why don't you join us? They won't mind. You too, Molly."

"Oh, dear, I'm sure they don't want us intruding in on a family —"

"They'll be delighted," Hermione said kindly, and Ron suspected that was not the answer his mother wanted to hear.

"Then we accept!" Arthur said cheerfully. "I'll get the address from you later, and we will be there with bells on!"

"Not real bells, I hope," Ginny said, snorting.

"It's a Muggle phrase," Arthur explained. "It means we'll be there promptly. Eagerly..."

More guests gradually filled the hall to the point that Ron estimated around three hundred people, the vast majority being family or friends of Audrey's parents. Charlie and George joined them as some of the last to arrive. 

Ron spotted a few of Percy's friends from Hogwarts mixed with the crowd, but no one he knew more personally apart from the people who sat at his table. 

At least he’d be more prepared for the wedding, which was scheduled for November this year. 

One thing they could all agree on was that the food was good. Like everything else with Audrey's family, they'd hired only the best caterers to provide the food. It was three courses and all of them were as tasty as the next. 

As he didn't know anyone else here, Ron was glad he could at least enjoy the food. 

“You know,” Ron began, setting down his knife and fork from the main meal of chicken and potatoes, served elegantly on his plate, “I’m actually looking forward to the wedding now if it’s going to be like this.” He cast his eyes over to the table where Percy and Audrey sat with her parents and Audrey’s brother and sister. Percy appeared to fit in perfectly with them all, sitting straight, taking small bites, looking rather serious. Ron smirked. “And it looks like Percy has found the perfect family for him — more respectable our mischievous bunch.”

“Ron!” his mother scolded, though she did cast a nervous glance Percy’s way — as if she wondered if Percy might have been happier with the family he’d found with Audrey. 

Music had played through the whole evening, and as people began to finish their main courses, some ventured out onto the dance floor. They weren’t a bunch of dancers, these people, and honestly, the music wasn’t that great anyway, but it seemed to entice the rowdier people, including Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny, and even Molly and Arthur. 

“Maybe we should dance, too,” Hermione said to Ron, her eyes following Harry and Ginny as Ginny dragged Harry away.

“With this music?” Ron asked, scoffing. “No thanks.” He smiled at her as George also stood up, perhaps in search of a drink. “Though, I did like dancing with you at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Bill’s a lot more fun than Percy, though.”

Hermione returned his smile. “I liked that, too. I think about that often.”

Ron stared at her. “You do?” They hadn’t even really been together then, and neither of them had brought it up until now. He’d always thought for her, it had just been a dance, and for him… for him it had been a moment where he’d contemplated kissing her, but hadn’t. He’d liked being alone with her, touching her... and the fact that she’d still chosen to dance with him with Krum as an option had pleased him more than he’d ever admit. 

“Of course!” Hermione said. “It’s the only time we’ve ever danced together.”

“We’ve never been anywhere to dance since then,” Ron reasoned, though he was being convinced by just her presence and her words. 

“Well, now we have an excuse,” Hermione said, and she offered her hand to him from where they sat. “Dance with me?”

For a long moment, Ron watched her, unable to hide his smile. She was the most beautiful, amazing person in the whole world and he just loved her so damn much. Not a moment went by where he didn’t want to hold her, or kiss her, or run his fingers through her crazy hair. He thought the absolute world of her, and in their two years together, his feelings had only gotten stronger. 

Tonight, they were celebrating the engagement of his brother, but soon, Ron hoped everyone would be celebrating for him and Hermione. He wanted to marry her. As she smiled back at him, hand proffered, looking radiant under the light, he made up his mind. 

“I can’t come to lunch tomorrow,” he said abruptly. 

Hermione lowered her hand and frowned, understandably confused by the sudden change in subject. “I’m sorry?”

“I just remembered — I have some work to catch up on. Didn’t finish it in the time frame and it’s due on Monday... sorry.”

“Oh, well… I’ve already invited your parents…” She eyed him suspiciously, like she knew he was lying. 

“Great, then you’ll have company!” Ron now offered his hand to her. “I accept your request to dance. I love dancing with you.” He grinned. 

Hermione watched him for a moment, as if she was trying to work out what he was up to. But even if she did, she said nothing, instead taking his hand and jumping to her feet. 

As they weaved through the tables to reach the dance floor, Ron could only smile like an idiot. He was going to ask Hermione to marry him, and he was going to do it with the finest ring he could find. 

#ronandhermionefanfiction #ron and hermione fanfiction #ronandhermione #ron and hermione #romione #romionefanfiction #romione fanfiction #ronxhermione #ron x hermione #hermionexron #hermione x ron #hermioneandron #hermione and ron #hermioneandronfanfiction #hermione and ron fanfiction #harrypotterfanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #romance #slice of life

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 42

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You're welcome to join my Discord for book lovers. All ages, all genres, all welcome!

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Chapter 42

This, Ron thought, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face, was why he loved living with Hermione so much.

It was night’s like these, when they had no interruptions, no one visiting them, and they weren’t being asked to visit anyone else. Just a plain old regular evening after work where one of them cooked dinner, they ate at the kitchen table — just the two of them — and then spent the evening in the living room together. Sometimes Hermione got a book out, other times she’d bring some work to do (if Ron had some to do as well), and they’d just sit together in each other’s company. Sometimes they didn’t even do anything other than sit together, Hermione leaning against Ron and just feeling… happy.

They’d talk about things that didn’t really matter, like what work would be like the next day, what they were going to do on the weekend, or sometimes Ron would even tune in the old wireless he’d borrowed from his parents to listen to the Quidditch commentary if a game was still going, and they’d talk about that.

It was pleasant, it was wonderful, and it was so normal that they were Ron’s favourite nights.

But what made this one just that little bit better was they were finally starting their wedding plans. Like everything else in their relationship, getting to the actual planning had taken a very long time. There was always something popping up that prevented them from doing it — Ron starting with the Aurors and being slammed with paperwork he needed to have completed; Hermione’s hours being a little scattered as her office worked on passing laws; and then the excitement of Harry and Ginny’s ever looming wedding and having to help them with the final preparations.

They’d made it to June before they’d even had a chance to think about what they would want to do, and then that involved contacting locations to have a look at, working out if they were catered locations, then working out what date they were going to get married, then the time they were going to get married at. Not to mention who to invite, who not to invite, how many people the place they hadn’t yet chosen could hold, and what would happen if some of those people couldn’t come on the date that they hadn’t yet picked?

It was now the beginning of August — less than three weeks before Harry and Ginny’s wedding — and they’d only just finished looking at the shortened list of places.

So now Hermione — he loved her so much for being so organised — had brought all the stuff she’d collected into the room and had laid them out on the floor between them. They each sat cross-legged on the rug by the unlit fireplace, staring at the abundance of pamphlets, scribbled notes, and folders of things.

Neither of them had a clue where to begin.

“Maybe… maybe we could start with picking a date?” Hermione asked. She picked up a list of dates they’d briefly brainstormed, ranging from December of this year, all the way through to the December of next.

“The sooner the better,” Ron said, grinning at her.

“But we need time to organise everything…” She scanned the list. “So I guess that cancels out any of the dates this year.” She picked up the quill and drew lines through four dates.

Ron watched her do it with a small feeling of disappointment. He’d been hopeful that it would be this year.

“Maybe even January and February are too soon…” She crossed them out too.

“What about March?” Ron asked. He pointed to the two dates they had selected for that month. “That’s not too soon, is it?”

“No, I don’t think so, but…” She picked up one of the pamphlets of a location they’d looked at. It was a small Muggle pub with a really beautiful garden out the back. They hosted weddings every Saturday there. “They don’t have any availability until June next year.”

“Well, let’s not get married there,” Ron said. “I didn’t really like it anyway.”

Hermione bit her lip. “But I really liked it there… it was my favourite.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Ron had no response. She really had liked that place more than any of the others — he’d seen it on her face the moment they’d stepped inside. It was small, intimate, and he knew it was exactly what she was looking for.

Except, it hadn’t really been for Ron. The only weddings he’d attended were Bill and Fleur’s and Percy and Audrey’s, and he’d kind of imagined that Bill’s was how his wedding would be, too. It was how Harry and Ginny’s was happening, with all the protections around the Burrow to stop snoopers. But Hermione wanted something different, something that was special to them and not what everyone else was doing.

He watched her for another moment. “What about by the lake?” he asked eventually.

Their favourite lake, the lake they went on dates to, or escaped to. The place that was special to them.

“They have no time restrictions on that,” he continued when Hermione said nothing. “You can only get there via Apparition.”

“Which means Mum and Dad can’t,” Hermione said gently.

“I’m sure we can get some special leeway to Apparate them there for the day?” Ron asked.

Hermione looked at him.

Ron sighed. “Not the lake,” he muttered.

Hermione crossed that off the list.

“You didn’t cross the garden pub off,” Ron noted.

“Because I still think it’s a logical option,” Hermione replied.

“But I said I didn’t like it. You were more than happy to cross the lake off, though. The one you didn’t like.”

“That’s different,” Hermione said. “The lake’s not possible.”

“But I liked it, and you crossed it off. But the one I don’t like, but you do, you leave on.”

“Well, forgive me for wanting my parents to actually attend our wedding, Ron,” Hermione said sharply.

“I don’t care about you crossing it off. I just want it to be fair. We both have to like where we get married.”

Hermione glared at him for a moment before she snatched up the quill and crossed off the pub as well. She punctured a hole through the parchment in the process.

Ron looked down at his hands, feeling a mild wave of guilt wash over him. He was remembering the way her face had lit up as the person had shown them around, how every corner of that place had convinced her that that was the place. He’d loved seeing her so happy, so excited, and for a while he’d told himself that her happiness was what mattered the most. As long as she was happy, then so was he. But now that it came down to it… well, it was his wedding, too. He needed to be happy with the decisions they made, and he just hadn’t liked that place at all. It was small and cramped and rather old. Not a place he saw himself marrying Hermione.

“Well, I don’t think we can get married until at least May.”

“Why?” Ron asked, looking back up at her. That was practically a whole year away.

“Because there’s a lot of planning involved, and in case you haven’t noticed, we still haven’t decided on anything. We’ve been engaged for months, and we haven’t even begun to plan.”

“We’re planning now, aren’t we?” Ron asked, his tone shorter than he wanted it to be. Why was she making such a big deal about the pub? Why was she upset about it? Why was he upset about it?

“And we haven’t gotten anywhere other than deciding what we don’t want,” Hermione replied, her voice just as short.

“We’ve narrowed the list down, haven’t we?” Ron asked.

Hermione said nothing.

“I don’t want to wait another year to marry you,” Ron said. “Do you know how hard it was to wait to get that ring? When I just wanted to ask you, but couldn’t —”

“I never asked you to spend so much,” Hermione said. “In fact, I never asked you to get a ring to begin with. That was your decision, not mine. I would have gladly married you with or without one.”

Ron stared at her, stung by the harshness in her voice. He looked back down at his hands, unsure on how to respond.

He heard Hermione sigh. “Ron, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s beautiful, and I love how much effort you put into it… sorry. I’m just feeling frustrated. I feel as if we aren’t getting anywhere, and I just want us to get married.”

“I don’t want to wait a long time to marry you, Hermione,” Ron said again, looking back at her. “March next year. That’s my limit. Any later will drive me mad.”

Hermione’s shoulders dropped as she released another sigh she’d apparently been holding. “Ron, I just don’t see it as doable for what we want —”

“For what you want, you mean?”

She paused again, her eyes moving from the spread in front of them, then to him. She did this a few times before she spoke. She sounded upset, and Ron pushed down another wave of guilt and waited for her to respond.

“No. I thought we both wanted the same thing. To get married. But Ron… what about the wedding we talked about? All the things we said we wanted? I’m just trying… to make that happen.”

Ron picked up a second quill and began twirling it in his fingers. He didn’t really know why he was so upset with her. He suddenly just felt angry. Some part of him had thought that their inability to get started on planning was due to their busy lives. But maybe it was because they couldn’t actually agree on anything. Whatever one wanted, the other seemed to reject. He hadn’t noticed, but he suspected it had been like that all along, which was why they were only getting to planning it now.

Suddenly, his excitement at doing this wasn’t there anymore. He felt defeated. “Why don’t you want to marry me as soon as possible?” he asked.

“Ron —”

“Have the damn thing at the pub if that’s what you want,” he snapped. “If it’s going to make you delay it, then I don’t care where it is. I just want to be married to you.”

Hermione didn’t speak, but watched Ron with a sympathetic expression. Then gently, she said, “Of course I want to marry you as soon as possible. But I also want our wedding to be special. It’s only going to be one time that we do this. I want us to remember it.”

“I’ll remember marrying you no matter where it is or who’s there, just as long as you’re there.”

She smiled at that, but it still didn’t seem to convince her. “It took us a while to find the right house, remember? Then we found this one. It’ll be the same for this. We… just haven’t found the perfect venue for us yet.”

He stared at her. Then said, “Alright. So no date, no place. Anything else we can do?”

Hermione shuffled through the things on the floor and extracted another bit of parchment. “We can maybe decide on a time to get married. As in time of day.”

“Midday?” Ron said.

He saw Hermione open her mouth and knew immediately that she didn’t agree with that. But a moment later, she smiled and nodded. “That could be a nice time.”

But her agreement just upset Ron even more, because she was only doing it to placate him. And he knew that tonight — despite him really looking forward to it initially — wasn’t going to work. He didn’t want her to agree to anything just because she thought disagreeing would upset him.

They wanted two completely different weddings when it came to the crunch, and he didn’t know how to work around it.

“Do you have another suggestion?” he snapped.

“Ron, I said it was —”

“But you’re not happy about it. I can tell. I know you, Hermione, and you just said it because you thought it was the right thing to say. What I wanted to hear.”

“Well… did you want me to disagree then?” she asked.

“No.”

There was more silence. Ron threw the quill back on the ground. Some ink splattered onto the pamphlets and parchment, but he didn’t care.

“Ron… I’m really not sure what you want from me right now.”

And the truth was, neither did Ron. He sighed.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked.

“I just thought it would be easier than this, that’s all. I thought… I thought because it’s our wedding — a really important moment, one I’ve been looking forward to with you for a long time now — we’d be able to sort it out. I didn’t think it would be this hard. It was easier in my head.”

Despite herself, Hermione gave him a small smile. “What’s in your head, then?” she asked.

“Nothing that you’ll like,” he mumbled.

“Tell me, and I’ll determine that, thank you.”

Ron watched her for a moment, admiring her patience for what he knew was him being rather difficult and sulky. It was just something he didn’t know how to control in this moment. He didn’t always know how to control his emotions. It was the reason he felt so strongly for Hermione… all the time. He didn’t know how to rein them in and was much better at just letting himself feel.

“Well, for one, I wanted it to be a year ago, but that was my fault and I know that. Two, I just pictured us somewhere really nice, somewhere beautiful, somewhere intimate. Somewhere like the lake.”

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron cut her off.

“I know why we can’t have it there!” he said quickly. “I just didn’t think about that. I was kind of just thinking of you. Of us. I didn’t know all of this other stuff would be involved. I just… wanted to marry you. That was all I saw, all I really cared about when I pictured it. Just you.”

For a moment, nothing happened. They both sat on their living room floor, looking at each other. Then, Hermione crawled towards him briefly and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“We have forever to get married,” she said when she pulled away. She was smiling. “It’s not something we have to rush or do quickly. Just when we’re ready. It’s how we’ve done everything else, isn’t it? When we’ve been ready?”

“The only thing is,” Ron began, “I’m ready now. I want to marry you now.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Hermione said. “Whether we do it tomorrow or in two years. Things with us will stay the same.” She sat back on her spot on the floor and picked up her wand from beside her. She tapped each bit of parchment, and Ron watched as all the notes she’d been taking vanished.

“What did you do that for?” he asked, shocked.

“I think we need to start from the beginning,” she said.

“Hermione —”

“No, this is our wedding, Ron, meaning that there’s no room for one of us wanting something more than the other. We both have to want it just the same. You don’t want the garden, so it goes.”

“And you don’t want March…”

She smiled at him apologetically. “So it goes.”

He nodded.

“We’ll work it out,” she assured him. “And it will be something we both want.” She waved her wand and all the parchment, quills, and pamphlets flew into a box. “I want to marry you, too, and I’m very excited about it all. But I’m not going to do it if you’re going to be unhappy about everything around you. That’s not fair.”

“So we��re back to having nothing at all?” Ron asked, not feeling overly comforted by her decision to start from scratch again. They’d been at nothing for too long.

Hermione reached forward to squeeze his hand. “We have each other,” she said. “And that’s good enough, isn’t it? The rest will come to us when we find it.”

Ron looked down at her hand covering his. It was so warm against his, so soft, and he really liked it when she touched him. Even if it was just holding his hand.

He looked at her again. He loved her, and that was why it was so difficult for him to accept that they still weren’t getting married in the foreseeable future.

But, in the scheme of things, he was pretty lucky. He was fortunate. And he could still love her every single day until they did finally get married. And every day after that, too.

He squeezed back and nodded. “It’s enough,” he assured her. “It’s more than enough.”

She kissed him again.

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 41

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Chapter 41

Ron clutched the final envelope in his hand. He didn’t want to open it. What if there was a reason that one had arrived last? What if they’d given him false hope with all of the other parts, and then this was the big letdown?

He was reminded of the time the OWL results had arrived and how sick he’d felt. He’d been convinced he’d failed everything back then, because during every exam, it was as if his mind had gone blank of information, almost as if he was three years old again and didn’t know how to perform a single spell.

But that worked out, he reminded himself. He’d gotten seven OWLs in the end, which was extremely impressive.

And so far, he’d passed every single aptitude test in the three years of his Auror training, including the final ones. It was the theory component that worried him.

He wasn’t good at theory. He couldn’t look at a book and absorb the information. That was Hermione’s area of expertise, and he admired her for it. But… at least he’d remembered some of the stuff this time round.

He’d taken the final tests two weeks prior, and those two weeks of waiting had certainly been the worst of Ron’s life. He’d checked multiple times a day for any Ministry owls making their way through the windows to the point that Hermione had forbidden him from getting the mail. Now it was her job to check it, and if anything arrived, she’d let him know.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that the two week wait had him at home by himself while Hermione worked. There was no more training left, and he couldn’t become a fully licensed Auror until his results were in.

Thankfully, Harry was in the same boat, so Ron had spent most of his time at Grimmauld Place helping Harry prepare to sell the house.

It had been all over the Prophet the moment Harry put it on the market, receiving a lot of interest from people who, Ron was sure, were more interested in coming to see where the Harry Potter lived than buying the actual house.

Who would want to buy a house owned by a Dark wizarding family for most of its existence? Especially one that was unplottable.

Still, Harry was adamant that he couldn’t live there anymore, and he wanted to be done with the whole thing.

“Maybe you should just hold onto it,” Ron had said as they packed up a room used as a storage space for the Blacks and Harry. “Keep it for the future.”

“Can’t anymore, even if I wanted to,” Harry had replied. “I’ve given half the wizarding population the address now. I’m moving.”

Two weeks had passed since that conversation. The two weeks Ron needed to get through in order for the final exam results to arrive. Hermione had left for work at seven that morning, and Ron had Floo’d over almost instantly to see Harry. Together they waited for midday, when the results were due to arrive.

Harry was already tearing into his, scanning the letter. Ron stared at his name on the front. He wished Hermione was here. She would be able to comfort him, probably assure him that he needed to stop being an idiot and that he would do just fine. But she was at work, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.

“Er, I passed!” Harry said, looking at Ron. “How’d you —” He noticed Ron’s unopened letter and rolled his eyes. “Oh, go on. You passed, I know you did.”

Ron swallowed. Harry just didn’t get it. He was probably going to pass even if he’d gotten every question wrong, because he was Harry, and they wanted him in the Aurors. But Ron wasn’t Harry. Neville wasn’t Harry. The rest would have to work for their results.

“You did just fine,” Harry said, almost irritated. “Want me to open it for you?”

“No,” Ron said. “I’ll… do it.” He broke the Ministry seal on the envelope and took out the letter.

This wasn’t like getting his OWLs at all. This was ten times worse. He’d dedicated three years to training, he had no alternative plan if this didn’t work out. What was he supposed to do if he didn’t pass the test?

He slowly unfolded the letter that would seal his fate.

“Oh,” he said.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ron looked up, his whole face burning red.

Harry’s smile faltered a little. “You, er, did —”

“Ninety-five percent,” Ron said.

“What?” Harry asked. “That’s… really good!” He folded up his own letter.

“What did you get?” Ron asked.

“Ninety-four,” Harry said.

“I beat you?” Ron asked, surprised. He’d never beaten Harry at a test before. They’d received identical results often, but Ron had never beaten Harry. And he’d not expected it in Auror training either.

“Was never good at multiple choice questions,” Harry said, shrugging and then smiling. “I guess drinks are in order, then?”

“Yeah, alright,” Ron said, air being let out of his lungs like a balloon.

“Ginny’s idea. She said once we got the remaining results, she’ll organise a celebration.” He paused, his smile turning into a grin suddenly. “Hey! This means we’re fully trained Aurors now. We’re Aurors.”

“It’s all I wanted to do!” Ron said, a grin spreading on his own face as the realisation hit him. He was an Auror. Finally. He’d never really thought it was something he could achieve. It usually required higher marks, Outstanding NEWT results and better wand ability than Ron ever could achieve under normal circumstances.

It had just been a dream, but that dream had just become a reality for him.

He sat down in the armchair, clutching the letter still.

He was an Auror.

“Ginny’ll be home tonight,” Harry said. “This afternoon, actually. Once Hermione finishes work, I think we should go out. Me, Ginny, you and Hermione. Neville, too. We should ask Neville. I’ll send him an owl now to see.”

Ron nodded, still not sure he believed it.

He was an Auror.

Harry vanished into another room to find a quill and some parchment and returned, sitting in an armchair beside Ron.

As he was scribbling the note for Neville, he said, head still down, “Hey, I never actually asked officially.”

“Asked what?” Ron asked, vaguely.

“You’ll be my best man at my wedding, won’t you? We’ve set a date. August twenty-fourth this year.”

Ron came to then. He looked at Harry. “Y-yeah, of course,” he said. “Of course I will. And you’ll, of course, be mine?”

“Would be an honour,” Harry said, folding the note up. “The biggest honour to be at the wedding of my two best friends. You guys set a date yet?”

“No,” Ron said. “We’ve not really discussed it. With all the tests, and then waiting for results… hasn’t been the best time to make any clear-cut decisions about something so important. For me, anyway.” In the six weeks they’d been engaged, he knew Hermione had been going through books, reading up on traditions, considering some places, some dates, looking at wedding dresses, and doing a lot of other things to do with the wedding.

But Ron had been too stressed to think clearly about something that seemed a while away, and then after he’d taken his tests, too nervous about the results to plan.

He wanted to be able to make clear decisions about what would be the most important and special day of his life, and while he awaited the results of his future, he couldn’t.

Hermione had understood and said she’d keep some things aside so they could talk about it when he was ready.

“Well, after today you’ll have more time.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, and some of his shock about becoming an Auror dissipated. Now he could anticipate something much more exciting than test results.

…

“I knew you’d both do it!” Hermione said, giving Harry a hug. She then turned to Ron and kissed him. “I’m so happy and proud of both of you.”

“And those test results are amazing!” Ginny added. “One hundred percent on all your final aptitude tests, and almost one hundred percent on the theory. The pair of you are going to make formidable Aurors. Dark witches and wizards have no chance. I think Tonks told me once that she scored ninety on her theory.”

“Don’t give us a reputation before we’ve started, Gin,” Harry said.

Ginny smiled. “You deserve it.”

“We still need our formal offers into the Auror department,” Ron said. “Can’t start a job when we don’t have one.”

“As if Kingsley wouldn’t offer you actual jobs,” Hermione said. “Apart from being very depleted, he needs people like you.”

Ron thought she was right. Now that they’d passed, Kingsley would be sure to offer them actual jobs. And with that came a decent pay rise, which meant a nicer wedding than before.

“Hey, guys.”

Everyone turned. They were standing out in front of the Three Broomsticks, waiting for Neville to arrive, who’d graciously accepted Harry’s invitation to celebrate with them.

“Hey, Neville,” they all said together.

“How’d you go, mate?” Ron asked.

Neville nodded. “I passed. I did well. Eighty-nine percent on the theory, one hundred percent on two of the aptitude tests, and ninety-seven on the rest.”

“That’s great, Neville,” Hermione said, and she stepped forward to hug him. Ginny did the same. Harry and Ron clapped him on the back.

“We should go in then now that we’re all here,” Ginny said, her hand resting on the entrance to the pub.

“I’m still waiting on… someone,” Neville said suddenly, and under the pale moonlight, Ron saw his cheeks tinge pink.

“Who?” Ron asked.

“... someone,” Neville muttered.

“As in… a date?” Ron pressed. Hermione elbowed him as a warning to not pry.

Neville nodded, his blush deepening.

“Who?” Ron said again. “Is this new?”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded. “Stop being so nosy.”

“A few months,” Neville said quietly.

“Thanks for letting us — your friends — know,” Ron said, but he smiled. “They on their way?”

Neville nodded again. “She’ll be here in a moment.”

Ginny took up a conversation with Hermione about Ginny’s Quidditch team and how she was going, while Ron, Harry and Neville stood in silence.

After a moment, Ron said, “Seriously, who is she? You’ve been seeing someone, Nev?”

“Someone from school,” Neville said. But before he could elaborate, a woman who looked vaguely familiar to Ron approached them, albeit not without a little hesitation.

It took Ron a moment, but he placed her as Hannah Abbott. Ron didn’t think he’d ever spoken to her in his whole time at Hogwarts, though it wasn’t because he had any strong opinions about her. They just… never interacted. Not even during their time in Dumbledore’s Army together.

“Hi, Hannah!” Hermione said before Neville could even introduce them. Of course Hermione would be on more friendly terms with her. She seemed to have spoken to everyone during their time at Hogwarts. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks!” Hannah said. “How are you…” She looked around at everyone standing there. “How are you all? Thanks for inviting me.”

“That’s quite alright,” Ginny said before anyone could share an uncomfortable look that they actually hadn’t invited her. Until a moment ago, they hadn’t even known she was coming. But, to be fair, if they had known Neville was seeing her, she would have been invited.

“Let’s go in, shall we?” Ginny then said. “I had a table reserved as there’s a few of us and it’s become a popular night time spot for more than just the creeps of Hogsmeade. Sorry, Hannah, I organised this a while back and Neville only told us today you were coming. I’m sure an extra chair won’t be a bother.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said.

“Just over there,” Rosmerta said when she spotted them. She pointed to a table at the back in a corner that was out of the way of everyone else.

“Do you have a spare chair, Rosmerta?” Ginny asked.

“If you can find one,” Rosmerta said, waving a hand in the general direction of other tables, clearly distracted by her customers.

“You seem awfully friendly with her,” Ron said as he picked up a vacant chair and carried it over to their table.

“The Harpies like to come here after a game sometimes,” Ginny said. “Would anyone like a Butterbeer? Firewhisky? I’ll get them.”

While Ginny disappeared to get the drinks, everyone else arranged themselves around the table. It was a little squishy, but they all somehow fit. Ron found himself squished into the corner of the booth with Hermione (which he didn’t mind one bit).

“It’s nice of you guys to organise something,” Neville said. “And to invite me.”

“You’ve been through the three years with us, Nev,” Ron said. “You’re always invited.”

Neville flushed with pleasure, and Ron felt a wave of affection for him.

“How are you going, Hannah?” Hermione said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. Ron shifted to give them a little more room and placed his arm around her waist. “I heard that you’re at St Mungo’s?”

How she knew that, Ron had no idea, but that was one of the many things he loved about Hermione. She knew everything.

“Yes, there’s a few from our year who’re doing Healing too,” Hannah said. “Seamus Finnigan… you probably know that, he said he’s still in contact with all of you. And Padma Patil.”

“Yes, I heard she was, too,” Hermione said.

“How is it?” Harry asked. “Healing, I mean?”

“Oh, I love it,” Hannah said. “It’s so rewarding. Tiring, but still rewarding. I’m working in the long-term resident ward. Do you remember Professor Lockhart? He’s still there!”

No one said anything to that. Ron assumed the others were of the same mind as he was — they had seen him there a few years ago, still as mad as ever. Thankfully, Ginny chose that moment to return with the drinks, so no one had to. She had two in her hands, and was levitating the others with her wand. She slid into the booth next to Harry.

“Have you and Neville been in contact all this time?” Ginny asked, looking at Hannah.

“Oh, no,” Hannah said, and she laughed slightly. “Through Seamus, really. We went out one evening after a rough day — me, Seamus and Padma — and he invited Neville and Dean along too. We got talking, reminiscing on a lot of Herbology lessons, and we kind of just clicked.”

Neville flushed, but Ron saw a smile hidden within his red face.

“That’s so good,” Ginny said, grinning at Neville. “What a nice story.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, also smiling. She then looked at the others with more focus. “And Neville told me about you all getting married.” Her eyes flicked to Harry and Ginny first. “Congratulations.” She then looked to Ron and Hermione. “And to you two as well. Such lovely news. Have you set any dates?”

“We have,” Ginny said. “When we send an invitation out, we’ll be sure to send yours with Neville’s. Guests are welcome, of course, we’re just putting secrecy charms on the invitations to stop any unwelcome guests showing up.”

By unwelcome guests, Ron knew she meant the media. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley would be a wedding that gossip magazines and the Prophet would love to get a story on. High profile weddings such as theirs were not a common thing in the wizarding world.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Neville said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “It sounds mean, but… we just want family and friends there, not snooping journalists trying to get in. So all stuff will be revealed on the invitation and once people read it, they’ll not be able to speak any of it out loud.”

“That’s a bit insulting to your brother, don’t you think?” Ron asked her. “You don’t trust even me?”

“Knowing you and your big mouth, you’ll let it slip by accident somewhere,” Ginny said, and Harry and Neville chuckled.

Ron scowled at both of them and sunk back into the booth.

“Well, we aren’t telling you ours either,” he said, knowing he was pouting.

“Because you don’t have one,” Ginny said.

Ron shot her a glaring look, to which she only rolled her eyes. “By the time you bother to even choose a date, people will have forgotten you’re even engaged. You are the definition of taking things slow.”

Everyone bar Hannah nodded in agreement, including Hermione. Ron looked at her.

“It doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,” she said kindly.

Ron folded his arms across his chest, leaning on the table again. He said nothing more on the subject.

The evening ended up being a pleasant one, the conversation going on until near midnight. Hannah, who Ron had always considered rather quiet, talked a lot and asked lots of questions about everything.

“Are you really selling your godfather’s house, Harry?”

“Why did you choose to live in Nottingham? That’s where I grew up. I live in London now.”

“How do you think the Harpies will fare against the Magpies next week, Ginny? My brother supports the Magpies.”

She was nice, though, and if Neville wasn’t Neville, who acted shy in many social situations, Ron would have thought he was quite pleased with himself.

“When do you think we’ll be able to start our actual jobs as Aurors?” Ron asked as the clock now ticked past midnight. There were still a few people left in the pub. Though, the later it got, the shadier the people became.

“I’d think very soon,” Hermione said. “They need more Aurors, and now that all the first lot of trainees since the war have finished, I’m sure Kingsley will want you all in as soon as possible. You probably all know what you’re doing more than half the Aurors already there anyway.”

“Flattering, Hermione,” Harry said with a tired smile.

“The truth,” she said firmly.

Hannah stifled a yawn, and truthfully, Ron didn’t blame her. He’d enjoyed the night, but he was starting to think about his bed more than the people he was spending time with.

Ginny and Hannah were still chatting when he fell into a peaceful stupor that had his mind wandering to what was to come for him. Starting a real job, getting married…

He was startled when he felt a hand on his leg. He turned to see Hermione smiling at him. “Do you want to go?”

“Do you?” he asked. “If you want to stay, we can stay. I’ll just… nap in the booth.”

“I haven’t even been home,” Hermione said. “Only to change from work clothes. I think we’re all going anyway.”

Ron looked around to see everyone else grabbing coats, getting to their feet as the conversation died down. Ron took Hermione’s hand as they all exited the pub.

“I don’t know how many times I went there in school,” Hannah said. “But now that we’re out, we mostly go to the Leaky Cauldron. My great uncle is the owner there.”

“Tom’s your uncle?” Hermione asked.

“Great uncle,” Hannah said with a nod.

“I never knew,” Hermione replied.

“Yeah, it doesn’t always come up in conversation.”

They were standing outside now. The temperature had significantly dropped while they’d been inside. Now that he was on his feet, Ron could feel the four Butterbeers and two Firewhiskys he’d drank going through him. No wonder he’d been falling asleep inside.

“Thanks for inviting me again,” Hannah said brightly. “I had fun.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Ginny said. She then looked between Harry, Ron and Hermione. “Or see you again.”

Neville and Hannah left, heading up the main street of Hogsmeade hand-in-hand.

“How nice.” Hermione sighed. “I’m happy for them.”

“Neville with a girlfriend is… strange,” Ron mused, watching their disappearing figures step into the night. He gripped Hermione’s hand tighter, then dug into his pocket to retrieve his wand.

Hermione’s hand covered it.

“Maybe I’ll Disapparate?” she suggested. “I don’t want any unnecessary Splinchings.”

Ron hesitated for a moment, trying to count how many drinks he’d seen her have but couldn’t recall. His brain was a little foggy on the details.

He didn’t even feel drunk, just… heavy-headed.

“Yeah, alright,” he said and stowed his wand back into his pocket.

“You’ll be at the Burrow tomorrow night?” Ginny asked.

“I guess?” Hermione said, sounding confused. “Is there a special reason?”

“Nope, Mum just asked me to ask you. I think she’s a bit upset over the fact that we all only seem to come over for ‘special occasions’ these days. You know, with us having jobs, our own homes, and all that. Kids, for some of us.”

“We’ll be there then,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, count us in,” Ron added, only realising since Ginny had said it that his presence at the Burrow really had dropped off in the last three months or so. They still visited, of course, but he’d spent more time at Grimmauld Place than he did there.

The flat had been comfortable, but it had never been ‘home.’ To a point, the Burrow had still felt like home to him while he and Hermione navigated apartment living. But the Nottingham house had changed his perspective. That was home now, and he felt the same warmth he’d always felt at the Burrow every time he set foot in his house.

There was just so much potential there, so many things that felt right about living there, and so many things he could envision for the future.

“Great, see you tomorrow night then.” Ginny beamed at both of them, and then she and Harry Disapparated from right in front of them.

Ron flinched at the sound, his hearing suddenly oversensitive.

“Come on,” Hermione said, squeezing his hand tightly and taking out her wand with her free one. “Let’s go to bed. I’m so tired.”

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 40

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Chapter 40

Telling his own parents about being engaged to Hermione had welcomed a completely different — yet more predictable response — than it had with Hermione’s.

Where Robert and Jane had been pleased and joyous that their only child was happy and getting married, Molly had all but squealed with delight about how another of her children was engaged, while Arthur had beamed and congratulated them.

They’d been hugged, clapped on the back and told how happy everyone was multiple times in the space of ten minutes.

Molly had then said it was only right to have a small celebration and insisted they come over for dinner the next Saturday with the rest of the family.

Ron had left the Burrow feeling rather pleased with himself.

“Well, they took that well,” Hermione had said when they reached their house again, and Ron noticed a hint of relief in her voice.

He’d looked at her. “Were you worried?” he asked.

She’d flushed. “I mean, I wasn’t… I’ve just always gotten the feeling that maybe your mum thinks you could do better than… me…”

“What? Why?” Ron was genuinely surprised by that statement. His mother loved Hermione, and he’d assumed she’d known that.

“Well… I don’t know… it’s just… I’ve gotten the feeling… that’s all.”

Ron knew it wasn’t all, but he decided not to press the matter in that moment, instead choosing to assure her that his mum did like her and was genuinely very happy for both of them.

“Wait until she’s at the wedding,” he’d said. “She’ll be sobbing. Trust me.”

They hadn’t spoken of the matter since, and a week later they were once again at the Burrow with the rest of Ron’s family, celebrating his engagement to Hermione.

Ron beamed. For once everyone was there for him.

He’d come into the kitchen from the garden in search of some Butterbeers George had brought over in celebration of — as he had put it — Ron finally getting his act together. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but his mother and oldest brother were having a rather loud conversation in the living room, their voices trailing into the kitchen.

“It’s just so lovely,” Molly was saying to Bill. “This will be our fourth wedding in a matter of years. It’s just George and Charlie left and… well… I’m not sure we’ll ever be attending a wedding of Charlie’s.” She sounded disappointed at that, but like she’d come to accept that her son had chosen a life that didn’t involve another person.

“I’m just happy for Ron and Hermione,” Bill said. “Ron’s chosen well, hasn’t he?”

“Oh, Hermione is such a lovely, young woman.” Molly sighed. “And she makes Ron so happy; it’s so good to see. He’s just so in love with her and it makes me happy to just see them together. I love it when they come over. Ginny said they used to argue a lot in their school days, but it seems they’ve gotten over that now and enjoy spending time together. Their house is beautiful, too. Hermione’s parents were very generous in helping them.”

Ron smiled to himself, picking up two bottles of Butterbeer and making a note to tell Hermione what he’d heard. He joined everyone else in the garden and passed Harry one of the drinks.

“Congratulations again,” Harry said, grinning.

“Thanks,” Ron replied, returning the smile. “And thanks for not being upset that we kind of stepped on your toes about it all. It’s just —”

“Why would I be upset?” Harry asked. “I stepped on your toes initially, didn’t I? Jumping in when I knew you were struggling. Maybe I should be thanking you.”

Ron laughed at that. He’d first been disappointed and slightly irritated when Harry had told him of his intentions to marry Ginny, but he’d also known it wasn’t Harry’s fault. Ron had never actually spoken to Harry about it, which he now realised had been a terrible mistake. Maybe if he had, Harry could have pulled him into line sooner and he’d not have waited almost a whole year before asking Hermione — and maybe he’d have gotten to do it in the way he’d originally intended.

But as the week drew on since he’d asked her, and the more times he’d told the story of how exactly he and Hermione had come to be engaged, the more he liked the way it had happened. It was sudden, unplanned, and in its own way, romantic. He’d been left with only one choice before Hermione considered him some liar or gambler or something, and he’d just done it.

People laughed, but not at him. They laughed with him, because the story was funny and much more enjoyable than the classic ways Bill, Percy and Harry had all proposed.

For once, Ron was the one who’d done something different.

“Nah,” he eventually said. “You were smart; I was not. Not your fault.”

Harry smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I know it may not seem like it at times, but I’m genuinely happy for both of you. You are my best friends in the whole world, and I’m so glad that in spite of everything we went through, you managed to find each other and fall in love and do all those crazy things that we probably never thought was possible.”

Ron didn’t have time to respond, for Charlie wandered over, clapping Ron on the back.

“Congratulations, little brother,” he said cheerfully. “I was quite astounded when Mum told me that you were engaged that I just had to come and see it for myself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Ron said, hugging Charlie.

Charlie shrugged when they broke apart. “Like I said, I had to come this time round. Quite the celebration, huh, especially because you could be here mourning the end of your relationship just as easy, so I hear.”

“I doubt that would have ended it,” Harry said. “Maybe they just wouldn’t have spoken for a week or two.” He smiled and Charlie laughed.

Ron scowled. “Yeah, alright,” he growled. “Have a laugh at my expense.”

“It is kind of funny,” Charlie reasoned. “And maybe a little romantic.”

“What do you know about romance?” Ron asked. “Last time I checked, I’ve had more girlfriends than you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m rather the disappointment for Mum, aren’t I?” Charlie said, not sounding at all phased by that. “Working a dangerous job with no offspring to survive me if one of the dragons were to end me.” He leaned forward despite no one else being around, grinning mischievously. “Don’t ever say anything to Mum, but a few months back there was a genuine close call. Landed myself in hospital for three months.”

“So that’s why you never visited,” Ron said.

“Yeah.” Charlie shrugged. “They wanted to let Mum and Dad know, but I begged them not to. Mum would have dragged me home in an instant. But what do you expect when working with dragons?” He shrugged again.

“And on the girlfriend front?” Ron asked.

“Much too busy, very little interest,” Charlie said. “Happy for you, my brother, but definitely not for me this whole marriage, children… women thing.”

“What about men, then?” Ron asked. “I’m sure there’s a few fancible ones in Romania.”

Charlie laughed. “Can’t say there is. I’ve got the dragons and that keeps me fairly happy… and busy.”

Ron smiled, knowing well enough that that would be Charlie’s response, but he had thought he’d try anyway.

Charlie bid them farewell, only to be replaced by Hermione and Ginny. Now that they were both engaged, the girls had spent the whole evening talking about wedding things. Apparently, Ron had learnt, no matter how independent and strong-willed they were, the talk of their own weddings had them both gossipping like two school girls over what they wanted.

Ron had to admit that he quite liked this side of Hermione too, despite not seeing it very often.

“You two planned your weddings yet?” he asked.

“Oh, very funny,” Hermione said, frowning. “We were just discussing ideas, that’s all.”

“Already?” Harry asked, sounding rather bewildered.

“There’s a lot of planning involved with a wedding,” Hermione explained.

Ginny smiled, stepping forward and placing her arm around Harry’s waist. “Don’t worry, Harry, our wedding will be rather relaxed in comparison, I think.”

Ron’s eyes widened and he turned back to Hermione questioningly.

Ginny laughed, but Hermione didn’t seem to see the humour in it. She looked up at Ron and said plainly, “There’s no harm in being organised.” Her tone was a bit indignant, which caused Ginny to laugh even louder.

Ron grinned at Hermione, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and kissing her head. “I agree,” he assured her. “I want our wedding to be the best one ever, and if that means lots of planning… I can’t wait to talk about all the wedding things with you.”

Ginny gave him a very sceptical look, but Ron meant what he’d said. Marrying Hermione would be his greatest accomplishment to date — and also the thing that made him the happiest. He wanted to plan a wedding with her and he knew that Hermione wouldn’t take something of this magnitude lightly.

“Merlin, the two of you sicken me sometimes,” Ginny said, her face disgusted. “I hope you’re very happy together.”

Everyone laughed at that, and once again the small group disbanded, Ron and Hermione joining in on a conversation with Percy and Audrey and Bill.

They joined right at the end, and Ron knew that it wasn’t supposed to be for their ears, but it was out there now.

“Fleur’s pregnant again?” Hermione asked, sounding a little alarmed.

Bill turned to her, his face riddled with guilt. “Yes,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “Listen… I wasn’t going to tell you tonight — anyone, really — because this is your night, but —”

“Don’t apologise!” Hermione said. “That’s such wonderful news. Even more to celebrate. Oh, how wonderful. A little brother or sister for Victoire.”

“Yeah, congratulations,” Ron said, clapping his brother on the back. “I’m happy for you — and Victoire. I bet she’s excited.” He looked over to where Victoire was giggling loudly at something Arthur had just shown her.

“She doesn’t know yet,” Bill said. “A bit too young to understand, but I’m not convinced, truthfully. She gets upset if Fleur even looks at our cat. And it’s the end of the world if Fleur picks Séraphina up. I don’t know how she will go with a whole other human who takes the attention away from her.”

“The wonders of having children, huh?” Ron said.

“They’re delightful for the most part,” Bill assured them.

Ron grinned. “Can’t wait.”

The conversation moved on to other things after that, and everyone moved around, engaging in conversations with one person or another.

It was the most active Ron had ever seen his family since the war — even more so than when they’d been here just a few weeks back, celebrating Harry and Ginny.

It was wearing late into the evening, the only source of light being the lanterns Molly had lit around the table, when his mother approached him. She had a warm smile on her face and without saying a word, drew both him and Hermione into a tight hug.

She held them for some time before letting them go and Ron noticed a look of slight bewilderment on Hermione’s face. He remembered then that he hadn’t yet told her of the earlier conversation he’d overheard — about how thrilled his mother was about them getting married.

He supposed Molly could tell Hermione herself now.

“This really is such wonderful news,” she said cheerfully. “Every day gets just that little bit easier when I know that all of my other children are happy and creating successful and wonderful lives for themselves.”

Despite himself, Ron felt pride swell in his chest. He was creating a successful life for himself. He was an Auror — or would be soon — and he was now engaged to marry an even more successful and incredibly motivated woman whom he was super proud of and very much in love with.

“I just want you to know that this news has brought me so much happiness — but I’m sure not as happy as the two of you are feeling right now. I just know you will have a long and happy life together.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Ron said.

“And, Hermione?” Molly turned to Hermione, who seemed to bristle ever so slightly. “You’ve been part of this family for a very long time, but now it’s official.” She gave Hermione another hug, kissing her cheek. “Welcome, dear. I’m so happy you’re marrying my son.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Hermione said, rather exasperated, as they broke apart. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Molly gave them both another affectionate smile and left them standing by the dinner table. When she was out of earshot, Ron turned to Hermione, smirking. “Still think Mum doesn’t like you?”

Hermione flushed. “I never said…” She seemed resistant to smiling

“Yeah, you did,” Ron said. “You said you thought Mum didn’t like you. But she does. She loves you. Maybe not as much as I do, but she still loves you.”

His words seemed to crack her, her mouth finally curling up at the corners. “I suppose I was just still thinking of that time she came into your room and completely lost it because we were together.”

“What?” Ron said, staring at her. “That was why you thought… Hermione, you know why Mum was upset by that, and it had nothing to do with you. She told me afterwards that she thought you were lovely.”

“I know.” Hermione turned to face him. “I know. I suppose I just… I don’t know.”

Ron gathered her into his arms. “You’re part of this family whether you like it or not. And whether they like it or not.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “You’re my family and the best damn thing to ever happen to me. Even if Mum didn’t like you, she would just have to deal with it because you’re here to stay… unless, of course, you ever want out.”

Hermione chuckled against him and then murmured, “I don’t want that.”

“Good.” Ron held her tighter against him, resting his chin on top of her head. He looked ahead of him into the fading light, where the edge of the Burrow disappeared into the trees and beyond. “I’m so glad we’re finally here at this moment. Even if it took us a while… I’m glad we got here. I love you and I just want to spend every single day of my life from here on in with you.”

There was silence for a long time.

Then, “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives. I have never been happier.”

Ron smiled. And they both stood there, together.

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 34

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I have started another blog with all my old one shots and any new ones, which I’ll gradually move over to Tumblr and ao3. If you’d like some Romione one shots, please follow @firethecanonsfanfiction

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Chapter 34

Ron dragged his feet along the pavement. He felt exhausted. More exhausted than training ever left him feeling. 

And, if he saw one more house that they didn’t like, then he might just scream. They were either too isolated for Hermione’s parents to reach or there wasn’t enough room to place protective enchantments around it to hide from Muggles. Others were too small, or too big, and nothing seemed like the perfect place for them.

“We’ll find something eventually,” Hermione kept saying, though after five weeks of visiting places all over Britain and not finding something that suited them, Ron was about to give up. They could stay in their flat for a few more years. It was comfortable for the time being, and it wasn’t like they were planning on expanding their family in the next few months. That was still years away — they had apparently just decided it was a conversation they were comfortable having with one another now. 

A big decision.

It was turning into a stupid decision, Ron thought bitterly as they stopped out the front of a mid-sized house. They’d Apparated to Nottingham this time, about two-and-a-half hours from London if one was driving. Not that distance mattered to them, but for the benefit of Hermione’s parents if they ever decided to visit, they were looking a little closer to where they lived in London. 

It didn’t look much different to the other one hundred houses they’d looked at, except this one had a space out the front of the house. Ron hadn’t yet seen the back, but perhaps this was what they were looking for. 

He hoped, anyway. He hoped they didn’t have to go and look at the next three Hermione had lined up after this. 

There was another couple already waiting out the front, as well as a family of four. The kids looked to be about seven to ten and were eagerly whispering to one another about features of the house. 

Both looked to have a hell of a lot more money than he and Hermione did, and he highly doubted that if either of them also wished for the house, then it wasn’t going to happen for Ron and Hermione. 

“Well, there’s enough room for your parents to park a car,” Ron whispered to Hermione. “Ten, if they wanted. We need to see the back garden, of course. See if it’s suitable for you-know-what.”

Hermione gave him a look that said she didn’t want to discuss it. Every house that Hermione had mildly liked had been a no from Ron on the principle that there was no way they’d fit a practice Quidditch pitch in there without the Muggles seeing. Every place (wizarding-made) Ron had liked, Hermione had vetoed because her parents weren’t able to drive there. 

Personally, Ron thought having a Quidditch pitch was far more important, purely because her parents could be Floo’d to wherever they lived. 

Apparently basing their decision around whether he could play Quidditch in the garden or not was not how Hermione wanted to choose their house.

“It’s not like you are going to try out for any professional team,” she had said. “Play it on the ground if you’re desperate.”

He loved Hermione with all his heart, but she really didn’t understand Quidditch. 

“It’s important, alright!” he said. “I know you don’t get it, but I want a place… I just want to be able to have one… for the future.” He looked away from her after he said that, but he knew she understood.

She said nothing more on the subject — good or bad — so Ron took that as a win. 

Two more couples showed up by the time the agent managing the sale made an appearance. One couple were middle-aged, probably looking to buy a house for just them after the kids had all moved out. The other couple were roughly around Ron and Hermione’s age. 

“Come on in,” the agent, a young-ish woman, said, smiling at them. 

Ron and Hermione followed the others down the dirt driveway, which was overgrown with grass and weeds. There was nothing in the front garden apart from mown grass. It would have been perfect for Quidditch if it wasn’t for the fact it could be seen from a hundred houses in the area if they so much as got a foot off the ground. 

Disappointing.

The house itself had clearly been renovated on the inside. There were fresh coats of paint in the entrance hall and brand new polished floorboards. There were stairs leading to upstairs almost the moment they entered, and then to the left was a hall that led to the back of the house where the kitchen was.

The laundry and a toilet were off to the side, but the first thing Ron noticed upon reaching the kitchen was how spacious it was. It was the largest kitchen they’d come across so far, and while it looked old, it appeared well-kept. 

The kitchen overlooked the back garden, so while Hermione looked around, he peered outside. It was long and narrow, with lots of trees growing rather tall.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of joy that he hadn’t felt with any other house wash over him. None of the others had excited him this much. 

“Ron, come and have a look through here.” Hermione indicated a door off from the kitchen and dining area. He followed her, stepping into a large conservatory with glass windows and doors that opened up to outside. 

He looked at Hermione, and there was a look between them that said it all.

This was the house. They didn’t even need to see the rest of it to know. None of the others had had as much appeal to them as this one. It had what they’d both been looking for and they knew it. 

Nottingham. 

This was where their future lay. Ron was suddenly certain of it. 

They explored the rest of the house, Ron with a happy feeling in his chest. With every room that he entered, he began picturing what it would be like for him and Hermione living there. Sitting on the couch in the living room, curled up while the fire blazed in winter. Hermione poring over a book, or her work notes, or anything really. 

In the summers, he could see them having breakfast in the conservatory, overlooking the garden. Maybe with birds there. 

Call him sentimental, but Ron had long ago established that, with Hermione, he liked the romance. He liked thinking about those things with her. He wanted it all. 

Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. A fireplace was even in the master bedroom, which Ron liked. I could just get up for work, hop in and go.

But, of course, the part that appealed to him the most out of everything was the garden. Along with the trees that obscured it from the neighbours, there was even a shed in which he could store all of the Quidditch stuff so it wasn’t in the house. 

The only downside to it — and it was one he’d assured Hermione that it didn’t bother him, though it did a little — was that it was in a Muggle neighbourhood. On the houses either side, lived Muggles. The whole street was Muggle. 

He’d known — he’d virtually accepted the fact — that this was where they’d end up. The wizarding places they looked at were just not compatible with the lifestyle Hermione wished to live. And she had every right to want to see her parents and want to have them visit. It was far easier to live somewhere where they could put up protective enchantments than to get Muggles to trek out to a place with very little access apart from Apparition, which was where most wizarding families chose to live. 

He loved the Burrow, and growing up, he’d assumed that he’d live in something like that — building level on top of level, and being surrounded by open fields, maybe some chickens, and de-gnoming the garden every so often. 

But that was all he had known back then.

Now, he knew a whole lot more. He had a clear future, which involved Hermione. Where they lived was a trivial matter in the scheme of things. 

He just wanted to be with her. 

He turned at the sound of footsteps on the crooked paved area directly outside. He’d been standing there for some time, taking it all in, that when he looked up and saw Hermione standing beside him, he discovered that they were the only ones left.

Everyone else had been through the house and left already. It was just the two of them and the agent now, who was still somewhere inside.

“What do you think?” Hermione asked, though by her tone, she seemed to know what he was thinking. “Do you think it’s a good start for us?”

Ron returned his gaze to the long, grassed area before them. “Start?”

“It doesn’t have to be our only home. It can just be a —”

“I can see us living here forever,” Ron said. 

There was silence. He glanced sideways to see that Hermione was now also staring ahead, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

“It has everything we’ve been searching for,” Ron continued. “It has the space inside, a long driveway at the front with plenty of space for a car or two if your parents come to visit. There is a living room with a fireplace for winter, and a conservatory for the summers. And this garden — it runs deep, with lots of trees. There’s a lot of… protection here, which would make it easier for us to add our own touches to.”

“It’s a fair way from London, though,” Hermione said. She was trying to reason logically, to think of all the pros and cons of this place; though Ron could tell her heart wasn’t fully in picking it apart. She liked this place too. It suited them. 

“Only a few seconds for us,” Ron said, and he lowered his voice just in case the agent decided to come and find them. “We could easily connect the fireplace to the Ministry for work purposes. We could even connect to Grimmauld Place to visit Harry and Ginny. The Burrow, your parents...” He turned back to Hermione and smiled. 

“And you’re okay with it being in a… Muggle area?” she asked. 

Ron shrugged. “I’ll adapt alright, I think. And it will be magical on the inside anyway. It’ll just be keeping up appearances. Wizards have been living amongst Muggles for centuries.”

Hermione smiled. “I really like this place.”

“Me too. I love it. And I can see us living here for a long time. Even, you know, having children here.”

There was a long pause from Hermione, and Ron wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. It had always been a topic that he’d felt nervous about, but one that was becoming increasingly important to him. 

He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t, he added, “Obviously I don’t mean now, but I can see this as a home… for us.”

Hermione smiled, seeming to come back to reality from wherever her mind had gone to. She looked up at him. “I know what you mean,” she said. “And it’s perfect for all of that.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“How would you feel about getting a car, too?”

“A — what?” He wasn’t asking what a car was, obviously, because he knew that, but… just how many things did Hermione expect them to buy? 

“It was just a thought,” Hermione said, shrugging. 

“Do you know how to drive one?” Ron asked. Because he sure didn’t. Not on the road. A flying one… sure.

“Well, no,” Hermione said truthfully. “I don’t. I never got around to learning, being away at school and all. And then a war… but I’d like to. And having a car in the driveway wouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. Everyone has one.”

“Do they?” Ron hadn’t paid that close attention to know whether that was the case or not, but a lot of Muggles seemed to have cars. It was one of the fastest modes of transport when they couldn’t Apparate.

“Yes.”

Ron swallowed. He’d avoided asking this question until now, but he thought it needed to be said. He had been to their vault in Gringotts on many occasions these past few months and he was almost certain that there wasn’t enough in there for them to buy a house, let alone a car on top of it (and a ring on top of that). “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Hermione said, her smile faltering a little. “Do you have a problem with getting a car?”

“Not a car, no,” Ron said. “But how are we going to actually pay for all of it? I don’t know how much money Muggle houses cost, but I would bet that we can’t afford it. And a car as well…”

At this, Hermione went faintly pink and she turned away from him. Ron felt a wave of panic wash over him. 

“What?” he asked. 

Hermione shook her head. “It’s nothing…’

“Hermione…”

She cast her eyes back up at him, and there was guilt. A lot of guilt. 

“You haven’t been stealing money, have you?” he asked, only half joking. She seemed to think they had enough to do this.

“Ron!”

“Well, I just can’t see —”

“Mum and Dad are helping, alright.”

Ron fell silent. Oh. 

“I didn’t ask them, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hermione continued. “I have a Muggle bank account set up for both of us to make the house loan a lot easier — just in case we did choose a Muggle place. I told Mum that I wanted us to start saving for one, and, well, she offered to contribute.”

“So… they’ll basically own the house then?” Ron asked, unsure on what to think. On one hand, he liked that they were willing to help. On the other, it confirmed with him that they really couldn’t afford this on their own. 

“No, it’s a gift, Ron,” Hermione said. “They offered it to us. Fifty thousand pounds.”

Ron didn’t know how much that really was, but it sounded like a lot. 

“You could have told me, you know?” Ron said after another pause. 

“I know.” Hermione sighed. “I just wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having people give you money. I know… I know it’s a tricky topic with you. And I know how badly you want to be able to do things on your own, buy things with your own money. And you’ve been even more worried about it lately. More than usual.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to say no to someone offering money,” Ron said, and he almost laughed. “I’d be mad to. Merlin, we can’t afford a bloody house on our own, anyway. But I want this one.”

Hermione smiled, seeming relieved that he wasn’t upset with her. If he was being honest, he was relieved, too. At least some of the money wasn’t coming from them. And he knew her parents had a fair amount of it. Fifty thousand pounds was probably nothing to them. 

“How much is fifty thousand… pounds?” he asked. “In wizard money?”

Hermione flushed. “Around sixteen and a half thousand Galleons.”

Ron’s mouth hung open for a very long time. And her parents just had that to give away?

He watched her for a moment. She almost seemed embarrassed. “What kind of life did you lead growing up? What are you doing with me?”

“Ron, that’s a terrible thing to say!” she admonished. 

“Well, it’s true,” Ron said. 

“It’s not. I lived a mostly normal life. You already know that when you quizzed my parents about my childhood, remember?”

Ron grinned. “I was just curious what it was like to grow up without magic.”

“It was normal.”

“It’s weird.” He stared at her for a moment. “Well, tell your parents thank you, and we accept their gift. I want this place. It’s our home. But anywhere with you is home.”

Hermione beamed. “I feel like it is, too. I feel like this is our place already.”

“Should we Confund anyone else wanting to buy it?” Ron asked.

“Ron!”

“What?”

Hermione shook her head, smiling. She offered her hand to him, which he accepted. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s make an offer right now. That way, we’ll hopefully get a head start on everyone else.”

Turning to go back inside, Ron couldn’t help but smile to himself. A sense of peace washed over him as Hermione led him back into the house that he hoped would be theirs very soon. 

Ten years ago, he would not have known that this would be his life, and that he would like it. At twelve years old, he’d seen himself as one day becoming an Auror (he was almost there), living in a dingy little place on his own, and he thought he’d be relatively happy. He’d not spared a single thought for this other part of life that made him even happier. 

Being in love, and the feel of that person’s hand in his, dragging him through a house that they wanted to live in together. Finding happiness in the smallest of things — like wondering if they should get a car because they were going to be living amongst Muggles, or knowing he had an engagement ring and soon he was going to ask Hermione to marry him, or them talking about having children one day and wondering if the garden was big enough for them to play Quidditch in.

At twelve, those ideas hadn’t even been a factor, and he sure as hell knew that even if the thought had crossed his mind, Hermione wouldn’t have been the one he thought he’d be doing it all with. 

But, she just made him so happy, and having faced near death on more than one occasion, he couldn’t help but feel grateful that he even got a chance to do something so normal. 

This place was it. He knew it. 

Nottingham. 

It was going to be where he lived out his days with Hermione. 

And nothing made him happier. 

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 35

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----

Chapter 35

“I’m going to miss this little place,” Ron said. 

“It was a good place,” Harry agreed, using his wand to lift the final suitcase into the pile of things that needed to be sent to Nottingham. “Small, but nice. Nice and cosy, I’d imagine.”

Ron nodded, looking around at the still-furnished flat he would be leaving behind in a few short minutes. He really had liked living here — not so much for the place itself, but because of what it meant. It was the first place he and Hermione had shared together. The first place they could call their own, even if it never truly belonged to them. They didn’t even own the furniture, yet… it had felt like theirs. 

He remembered the nights falling asleep with Hermione in his arms or waking up with her beside him. Or waking up to find her already up — on weekends still in her pyjamas and a pot of coffee already made; on work days, dressed and showered and nudging him to also get up lest he be late. 

There had been times where they had curled up together under a blanket on the sofa, talking and laughing, sometimes getting into petty arguments about one thing or another. Sometimes their talking would become intimate, and it’d lead to kissing, sex, or just straight up romance where they would fall asleep holding hands. 

The kitchen was where they cooked food — Ron learning how to cook out of necessity with Hermione’s crazy work hours. 

Even the bathroom held some memories — especially the times (as rare as they were) where Hermione wasn’t in a rush and she’d let him jump in the shower with her. 

Of course, he knew these things wouldn’t change in their new place, but there was something special about it being their first. 

But he also knew that their new house would create so many more memories over so many more years, and he was looking forward to the rest of his life living there — with the absolute love of his life. 

“I’m also keen to see what you’ve done with the new place since I saw it last, though,” Harry added. 

“Not much,” Ron confessed. “It didn’t need much work. Just the protective enchantments, really. So no peeping neighbours wonder why we never have to garden, or why there is smoke in the chimney all year round.” 

The biggest change they’d made in the last month of owning the house and not living in it had been purchasing all of their own furniture. They now had their own bed, their own sofas, their own table, their own kitchen appliances (which Ron was still getting the hang of). They’d gotten the keys in December, slightly before Christmas, and had spent the last six weeks preparing to move into it, all at the same time trying to enjoy their short break away from work, and spending time with family. 

But everyone had volunteered to pitch in to help — Harry and Ginny helping with the packing, Hermione’s parents even making the two and a half hour drive to help them with the furniture deliveries. Molly had cooked them a week’s worth of meals so they wouldn’t have to worry about it. 

And today was the day. January, and finally they were moving into their new house. 

“The two of you are taking a lot of huge steps together,” Harry said after a moment, and there was an element of pride in his voice. “You’re in this for the long haul, huh?”

Ron turned to Harry, about to ask where he’d been for the past almost three years, but stopped himself when he saw Harry’s mischievous grin. 

“Ha, ha, very funny.” 

Harry shrugged, and then put his arm across Ron’s shoulders. “It really is great. I love you guys, you’re my family, and as much as you drive each other crazy, it’s a good kind of crazy. I swear you argue less now that you're together than you did when you weren't. You really love each other.”

“More than anything,” Ron said. Over the years, talking about his feelings to Harry had become slightly easier. In fact, talking about his feelings in general had become easier the moment he could admit them to Hermione. He hadn’t even realised how much he’d been forcing himself to keep quiet, terrified of the consequences were he to admit that his feelings for one of his best friends really crossed those boundaries of friendship. 

But then she had kissed him, and his barrier had been dropped, completely punctured through. She loved him, too, and all of a sudden, he could tell her, and he could tell the world — including Harry, who really didn’t want to hear about it to begin with.

Now, Harry felt like their biggest supporter. As if he really did want them to last.

Ron laughed lightly. "You should have heard us the other day. Arguing about what sheets to get for our new bed. We couldn't agree and it took us an hour to decide. They thought we were mad, the people in the shops."

Harry also laughed and shook his head. "I'm not really surprised. You ready?"

Ron nodded. Everything was packed now. Hermione and Ginny had taken Crookshanks and their owl, Arwen, over to the new place already, along with some other things. All that was left were the suitcases filled with clothes and other little things that wouldn't fit anywhere else. 

"It'll be sad to have you guys a little further away," Harry said as they both lifted their wands at the remaining stuff.

"You're only a Floo call away,” Ron said. "And we've set up Apparition boundaries too, not too far from the house — we thought it would be weird if any neighbours saw you exit the house but not come in, so that way you can at least look as if you walked."

"You moving has made me think about it a bit," Harry said.

"What, move out of Grimmauld Place?" Ron asked, not entirely surprised by that news. Harry had always said it was temporary because he’d always hated it there.

Harry shrugged. "It was never a long term arrangement. And it's already been longer than I planned. And it's huge for just me and Ginny." He hesitated a moment after that, looking uncertainly at Ron. "You'd, um, be okay if I proposed to her soon, wouldn't you?"

"What?" Ron asked.

Harry suddenly looked very uncomfortable. It had been a long, unspoken agreement that small details of Ron and Hermione's relationship were allowed to be shared, but Harry and Ginny's was taboo. Ginny may have been okay gossiping with Hermione about her brother's sex life (even though Hermione was adamant that never happened), but it was not something Ron even wanted to think about, let alone hear about.

But that wasn't even what shocked him… or annoyed him. It was the fact that for once, Ron had hoped to be the first. 

"I mean… soon?" Harry said. "You'd be okay with it, right? If I asked her?"

Ron didn't say anything for a long while, his wand hanging limply in his hand. 

No, let me ask Hermione first, he wanted to say. For the love of Merlin just let me have this one. 

But who knew when that was going to be. With the house, and then the furniture, and then the probability of that damn car neither knew how to drive (granted, Hermione had decided to learn) he'd had to reduce his payments to fortnightly and with fewer Galleons. 

"Well," he said, keeping the bitterness from his voice as best he could, "I don't really have a say, do I?"

"But you're my best mate," Harry said, "and her brother. Your opinion matters."

"I'm okay with it," Ron said. "I mean, it's not like I'm surprised anyway. You just caught me off guard."

Ron thought he'd handled that very well. He smiled, genuine. Harry mistook it as an approval smile. 

"I know it weirds you out," he said.

"Not nearly as much as it used to," Ron said. "As long as we continue with the whole need-to-know basis, then it's all good. When do you plan to ask?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't actually know. It is only a recent thought I've had. Not for a while, I guess." 

Ron nodded again, smiling. "Well, congrats, mate. I'm happy for you. Hermione will be too. We'll have a celebration once it's over with."

"Over with?" Harry chuckled. "You make it sound like it's some lengthy procedure you want to get out of the way."

"Well… the thought of it is kind of terrifying, isn't it? I mean… there's always a chance they'll say no. They'll change their mind even if they’ve assured you they’ll say yes. That they'll say they don't actually want to get married."

Harry didn't say anything for a long while. Suddenly, he looked mildly terrified, causing Ron to feel guilty. "Obviously, that's not going to be your case!" he added hastily. "It's just… a thought."

"I guess I never thought about that," Harry said. "I mean, she is playing Quidditch, she's rarely home… do you think she'll have time to even get married?"

"I'm sure it would be a top priority, mate."

But Harry didn't look overly convinced, and the guilt hit Ron like a slap to the face. He hadn't meant to worry Harry. He'd just been expressing his own internal fears he'd been too uncomfortable to admit to himself until now. 

"Just ask her," he said after a moment. "It's not going to go badly. Trust me."

"I've never done this before," Harry said. He turned to Ron. "How do I do it? How do I ask?"

Although he’d never admit it, Ron felt rather put out that their conversation had turned to Harry talking about how he was going to ask Ginny to marry him. 

"I don't know," he said after a moment. "I would have told you if I'd done it, don't you think? I can’t even afford a stupid ring, so you’re asking the wrong person.”

"Ring?” Harry asked, looking at Ron with a stunned expression. “I'm sorry, what?" 

Ron went red. He hadn't meant to say that. "Nothing," he said quickly. “I mean… forget I said that.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. “You have a ring?”

“Well… no,” Ron said, realising he’d already said too much. He may as well tell Harry the whole story. "That’s the thing. I went to… get one last year. In April. I was going to ask Hermione, but the ring I wanted to get was ridiculously expensive, so I've been paying it off each week. Well, fortnight since we got the house."

"You were going to ask Hermione to marry you?" Harry asked softly, apparently now more interested in Ron's story than his own romantic plight. 

"Yeah," Ron said. "I really wanted to do it right, too. But the shopkeeper won't give it to me until it's all paid off. It was supposed to be a year, so I'd have it this April, but with the house and everything, I've had to delay it a little longer. I probably won't get it until the following April at the rate it's going." He sighed again. "I was so ready to do it and everything; I'd even organised a whole romantic evening that I had to cancel because it was pointless otherwise. She was so confused. I think she realised what I was planning, and then I cancelled and… I don't know. She hasn't said anything about it. She hasn't said anything to you, has she?" 

Harry shook his head, shrugging. “Not a word. You mean to say, you’ve put it off for almost a year now?”

Ron nodded. 

Harry watched him for a moment. Then,“You're the biggest idiot I've ever met.” 

"Thanks," Ron muttered. 

"You're telling me you've been planning to marry her for almost a year, and the only thing holding you back is the fact that you decided to get her an engagement ring that is far too expensive?"

Ron shrugged. 

"She doesn't care about a stupid ring, mate. I can tell you that much."

Ron shrugged again. "It was the only one that felt right. I didn’t want to just get her any old one because it was cheaper. I chose that one before I knew the price and I knew it was right for her."

Harry laughed. "You're an idiot," he said again. "But while you're being an idiot, will you at least help me come up with a plan for Ginny? Seems you have some idea on what to do, which is more than me."

"Yeah," Ron sighed. "I'll help. Just don’t tell me the intimate details, will you? One of us may as well be getting married while the other is being an idiot."

Harry shook his head, still laughing. "I wonder if Hermione realises she's moving in with the biggest prat in the world."

Ron stuck out a leg to kick Harry.

"Is that any way to treat your future brother-in-law?" Harry asked.

"Careful," Ron warned. "I might just tell you I'm not okay with it."

"And I'd have to tell you that you were right — it's not really your decision, is it?"

They grinned at each other, and Ron felt glad that his friendship with Harry had stood the test of time and many, many obstacles. And that his best friend would one day be family for real. 

“We should actually get this stuff to the house,” Ron said, nodding at the pile of things they’d been tasked to transport. 

Harry nodded, and together, they Vanished the stuff to what would hopefully be the new place. Hermione had shown them the spell, becoming frustrated when they hadn’t managed it first go, muttering something about them going to make useless Aurors if they couldn’t manage a simple Vanishing charm. 

It felt like old times, like when they were back at Hogwarts and studying for exams. The only difference this time was rather than telling her to lay off them, Ron had pulled her towards him and kissed her. It had been the most effective measure in silencing her for the past few years. 

“Ready?” Ron asked, gripping Harry’s arm. Harry nodded, and Ron spun from the living room of the flat, landing a moment later in the living room of the new place…

...to a pile of suitcases and bags which had crash landed on the brand new coffee table he and Hermione had bought, causing one of the legs to snap.

Ron grimaced at the mess, and then looked up to where Hermione and Ginny were muttering about their uselessness in moving things.

“Well, how were we supposed to know where exactly it was going to land?” Ron argued as Hermione repaired the coffee table. “We couldn’t see.”

“I managed to get the other stuff in the correct places,” Hermione retorted. 

“Yes, well, we already know we aren’t as accurate with magic as you are. Rub it in, why don’t you?” Ron grumbled, shifting the bags and suitcases into the corner of the living room. “Where do these go, anyway?”

“Upstairs,” Hermione said. For a moment, Ron thought she was going to Vanish them up there herself, but when she didn’t move, Ron realised she wanted him to drag them up himself, probably as punishment for destroying their brand new table before they’d even officially moved in. 

“I’ll levitate them, at least,” Ron told her, to which she only raised an eyebrow. 

“A little help?” Ron said to Harry, who had been standing back slightly. 

Harry nodded, and they began levitating the objects, guiding them through the doors and upstairs. “She has a point, really,” Harry said on their way up. “We should be able to do that spell.”

“She’s just stressing as Hermione stresses in situations like this,” Ron said. “Everything has to go perfectly to plan.”

They let the bags fall onto the floor of the bedroom, where all that was there was a bed — made up and looking fresh and clean, and ready to be slept in. 

“Hermione?” Harry asked, nodding toward the duvet. It was a pale blue and white cover, which was one of the many small arguments they’d had about the decor of the house. Ron had not liked it, but then she had won the argument by stating she didn’t like the idea of Quidditch hoops in the garden, but she wasn’t telling him no to that.

So they had bought that one.

“Yeah,” Ron said. “I get the Quidditch stuff, she gets everything else in the house, and I’m okay with that. I really want the hoops.”

Harry chuckled. “Married life, I guess.”

“Not yet,” Ron reminded him. 

“As good as.”

“Yeah,” Ron said with a small smile. It was.

A moment later, Hermione and Ginny came into the room as well, laughing at the sight of Ron and Harry staring at the bed. 

“You moved a few bags and you’re contemplating taking a nap, are you?” Ginny said. 

“No,” Ron and Harry said together. 

“We were just commenting on the duvet,” Harry added. “It’s… nice.”

“A good thing you don’t have to sleep there then, isn’t it, Harry?” Hermione said. “Ron doesn’t like it either.” She looked at Ron, amused. “Mum and Dad just got here with a few extra little things we realised were missing this morning. Is everything gone from the other place?”

“Yep, it’s just the keys to pass on now. Where’s the cat and where’s the owl?”

“Crookshanks is exploring the garden, and I told Arwen she could stretch her wings.”

They made their way back downstairs and into the kitchen where Hermione’s parents were both standing by the bench. A pile of small bits and pieces sat atop it, and a bag full of groceries.

“We thought you might need a head start,” Jane said, smiling. “So you don’t go hungry. Though, I hear Molly has you covered for that as well?”

“Mum would never let us starve,” Ron said to Hermione’s mother. He took the bag from the bench and looked at Hermione. “I may need some help with what goes in the refrigerator,” he added.

“If it’s cold, it goes in, if it’s not cold, the pantry,” Jane said. 

“Thanks,” Ron said, and he began unloading the butter, some milk and eggs into the refrigerator. Arthur had spent a good thirty minutes admiring it when they’d put it in a week ago. 

“Fascinating,” he had kept saying. “And, Ron, you’ll be living with elektisity. Amazing!” Much to the amusement of Hermione’s parents, who had also been there.

Ron had to remind him that Percy was also living in a house with electricity with a gentle nudge to go and bother him. 

Now, Ron continued unloading the groceries. Hermione’s parents had bought some vegetables as well, which stumped Ron. Harry had to help him sort them out. 

“Merlin, that’s going to take some getting used to,” Ron said. “The flat was all magic. We didn’t need one.”

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure,” Jane said kindly. 

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione added, smiling at him. 

He returned her smile. Anywhere with her was home. 

“Well, perhaps we should go to our hotel for the night,” Jane said after a moment. “Check in. We’ve decided to stay in Nottingham, just to see the two of you settled in. In case there’s anything else you need.”

“Thanks,” Ron said, and he didn’t just mean for the food. Ever since getting the house, they had been so busy that he’d not had a chance to really thank her parents for the help they had given for the house. “I mean… for everything, not just today. For… the house.”

Both of her parents smiled. “It is the least we can do, Ron,” her dad said. “To get the two of you set up.”

Sixteen thousand Galleons equivalent wasn’t a small thing, but Ron didn’t push the matter. He was grateful for the help, because without it, they wouldn’t be standing there right now. 

“We’ll go back, too,” Ginny said. “I’ve got tomorrow off, but training starts again on Monday. We’re going out for dinner tonight, me and Harry.” She beamed. “It’s been forever.”

“Enjoy,” Hermione said. “Maybe try the Floo back to your place. Make sure it works. It was a hell of a lot of paperwork to get it connected, so you may as well use it.”

“Will do,” Ginny said, grinning at them. “Enjoy your first night in your new place. Try not to break any more furniture.” She turned to Hermione’s parents then, and added quickly, “I do mean literally. Ron broke the coffee table earlier.” She looked back at Ron and Hermione. “We’ll drop by again tomorrow. See you.”

The four of them left after that, Harry and Ginny Flooing back to Grimmauld Place, while Hermione’s parents drove back down the driveway toward the city of Nottingham where they were staying. 

Ron threw his arm around Hermione’s shoulder as the car disappeared down the road and they closed the door behind them.

“Tomorrow we give the key back, and then this place is truly ours,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“How do we spend our first night in our new place?” Hermione asked. 

…

It was nearing ten o’clock at night, and just as Ron had imagined all those weeks ago, they sat on the sofa, curled up together with a blanket thrown over them. It wasn’t even that cold, but it was comforting and the romantic in Ron had insisted. 

“This is nice,” Hermione said, and her voice sounded faraway, as if she was almost asleep. 

Ron drew her closer towards him, his thoughts wandering into something resembling pure bliss, only interrupted a few moments later by an intrusive memory that he’d brushed aside until now. 

“Apparently I am helping Harry figure out a way to ask Ginny to marry him.”

“What?” Hermione lifted her head off Ron’s shoulder and sat up. “Since when?”

“Since this morning, apparently,” Ron said with a shrug. “He asked me if I’d be okay with it, which… well, yeah, I am. Then he asked me if I could help him do it. I mean, I assume he meant helping him find a way to ask her that doesn’t seem ridiculous and cheesy.”

“That’s great news!” Hermione said, and she sounded genuinely thrilled. If there was any thought in her mind about when she’d be getting engaged, she hid it very well. “Oh, I’m so happy for them. Do you know when he’s planning it?”

“No,” Ron said. “You know Harry — if it’s something that involves even a small plan, then he prefers to dive right in, head first.”

“Ginny did say they were going to dinner tonight…” Hermione began.

“Yeah, but he asked me for help,” Ron said. “And I haven’t given him the slightest bit of help.” He thought back to earlier that day, and Harry’s amusement over the whole ring situation. “Except, I guess, what not to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked. 

“Nothing.” Ron shook his head. “Just something that happened while we were packing up the stuff at the flat. You think Ginny will say yes?”

“Certain of it,” Hermione said. “Though, with the Quidditch season starting up again soon, I can’t imagine when they’ll find the time to get married. They’ll have to squeeze it in between a game, I guess. And that all depends on whether the game has actually finished before the next one is due to start.”

Ron laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I’d hope — and correct me if I’m wrong if I’m assuming too much — that Ginny would actually consider missing a game or two for her own wedding.”

Hermione flushed, and it was obvious that the thought hadn’t actually occurred to her. “I… I suppose you’re right.”

Ron watched her for a moment. Now he knew she definitely was thinking about their own potential wedding. She had an air of guilt about her. 

“If you and Harry find you’re struggling, I can offer some suggestions, too,” Hermione said after a moment. “I do think, considering it’s Harry and Ginny, something simple. Or something Quidditch related.”

“Maybe at a Quidditch game?” Ron suggested.

“Harry wouldn’t want to draw attention to himself like that,” Hermione argued.

“Good point.”

“A dinner is a little cliche, but nice and simple, and if it’s in the house, then there’s no one else around.”

“Wouldn’t that be boring, though?” Ron asked.

“I think it’s romantic,” Hermione said. “I think it would be nice for them to become engaged just at home, no one else around…”

Ron smiled at her. 

Hermione flushed a little, and added quickly, “But I mean, if, um, Harry doesn’t want to do it that way then there’s other options. Start by asking him, I guess. You’re good at that kind of thing, Ron. Better than he is. I’m sure you’ll think of something. It’s so exciting for them!”

Ron’s smile widened. “I love you,” he said. 

She responded by kissing him. 

…

There was a cool breeze floating through the window the following morning. Ron shivered. What was it doing open in January? It was far too cold for such a thing. 

And then he remembered. 

Their first night together in their new place had become heated, especially when they’d decided to come to bed. They’d needed to open the window after a bit, just to cool themselves down. 

And now it didn’t help in the morning that he’d fallen asleep without any clothes and the blankets were tossed down around his waist. 

He groaned and rolled over, drawing them back up to under his chin. “Morning,” he said groggily, reaching out an arm to place around Hermione. She didn’t respond, but he could feel that beneath the blankets she also had forgotten to get dressed. He snuggled into her, partly for warmth and partly because he was still very much remembering how he had fallen asleep and wanted to be as close to her as possible.

Her even, gentle breathing lulled him back into a sleep. He didn’t know for how long, but he was woken again by Hermione shifting against him. She rolled over and before he could even open his eyes, her lips were on his again. 

“Good morning,” she whispered, snuggling into him. Her skin was so warm and soft against his. 

He grinned, still through closed eyes. “Very good morning,” he said, moving his arm under the blankets and drawing her closer towards him. “You’re so warm,” he added, suppressing a shiver. “Dumb idea, leaving that open all night.”

“I was going to close it, but then I fell asleep,” Hermione said, keeping her voice low. 

Ron drew her even closer to him, sinking lower under the blankets. A moment later Hermione pulled away. His eyes sprung open as she reached for her wand, pointed it at the open window and then snuggled back in under the covers.

“We don’t have to get up today, do we?” Ron asked. 

“I’m okay to stay here,” Hermione agreed, and she kissed him again.

And they would have gladly stayed in bed all day, enjoying their new house (and each other’s company), but at some point (Ron didn’t know and didn’t care what the time was) there was an annoying disruption.

A rush of flames, and then a shout that sounded a lot like Ginny’s from the bottom of the stairs. “You two up there?”

“Great idea linking the fireplaces,” Ron groaned, pulling away from Hermione unwillingly. “Your best idea yet.”

Hermione, also looking rather annoyed at the interruption, sat up in the bed in a very flustered state. “I don’t think we’re in any state to go down just yet,” she said. 

Ron definitely wasn’t, so they laid back down, Hermione flicking her wand to open the window again. 

“I doubt they’re sleeping,” Ron heard Ginny say, probably to Harry. “It’s midday. Honestly.”

And then there was silence, with any luck the two deciding to go back home. Though, Ron knew that was wishful thinking. 

“I suppose we should get up,” Hermione said after a while, once the cold air began to become a nuisance again, and not a relief. 

“Annoying little sisters,” Ron grumbled as they both sat up and attempted to find something to dress into. Nothing had been unpacked yet, and by the time Ron had found a shirt and a pair of jeans to throw on, Hermione was opening the door in her pyjamas that she definitely had not worn last night.

Harry and Ginny were waiting in the kitchen, both with a mug of hot tea in front of them. 

“Sorry, should have sent word when we were coming over,” Ginny said, and to Ron’s surprise, she actually looked a little embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” Ron replied, unable to contain his annoyance at their unwelcome intrusion. “Also should have used your brain.”

Hermione gave him a whack across the chest.

“Ow.”

“It’s alright,” Hermione said, accepting an offer of tea that Harry had just poured. “We were just about to get up.”

That was so far from the truth that no one believed her, but no one said anything. 

“So, how’s the place?” Harry asked. “You’ve settled in alright?”

“Yep,” Ron said. “There’s a lot more space than we’re used to, but that’s alright. We’ll get used to it, I’m sure. It already kind of feels like home.”

“I’m glad,” Ginny said with a smile. 

They moved into idle chat after that, Harry and Ginny talking about their date night, and then moving onto work, and the new Quidditch season. It wasn’t until Hermione jumped up from her seat and said, “Harry, can I see you in the next room?” that the conversation died.

“Is that some secret work business going on in there?” Ginny asked. 

“I dunno, maybe,” Ron said, though he had a feeling that Hermione was sharing all her sudden ideas about how to propose to Ginny in the next room. He repressed a sigh.

“Harry told me what you said to him yesterday,” Ginny said after a moment. “About the ring. You’re an idiot.”

Ron glared at her. 

“I’m serious,” Ginny continued. “You. Are. So. Stupid.”

“I’m not getting into this discussion with you,” Ron said. “It’s too late now, anyway. I can’t back out, and I don’t want to.”

Ginny stared at him for a moment, then shook her head again, stating, “You’re an idiot.” 

“That’s what George told me when I told him what I did.”

“Yeah, well, he’s right, too.”

Ron couldn’t say anything, for Harry and Hermione returned, Harry looking rather overwhelmed. 

“We should head back,” Ginny said. “I have to be back in Holyhead at seven in the morning tomorrow.”

“Good luck for this year,” Hermione said. “We’ll try to get to some games to see you play.”

Ginny smiled, giving Hermione and Ron a hug each. “Thanks. We have a pretty strong team. I’m just glad to be playing this year at all.”

“You deserve it,” Hermione said. 

“Thanks. See you guys, and enjoy the rest of your afternoon. We’ll remember to Apparate next time, or send word first. Sorry.”

Once they had gone, Hermione turned straight to Ron and said, “You need to help Harry. He’s clueless.” And she took another sip of the freshly brewed tea. 

#ron and hermione fanfiction #ronandhermionefanfiction #romione #ronandhermione #ron and hermione #romionefanfiction #romione fanfiction #ronxhermione #ron x hermione #hermionexron #hermione x ron #hermione and ron #hermioneandron #hermioneandronfanfiction #hermione and ron fanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #slice of life #romance

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 36

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 as well. 

Follow @firethecanonsfanfiction for my one shots and other multichapters. 

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Chapter 36

“Mate, I don’t know why you’ve enlisted me to help you do this. Not only is it weird because she’s my sister, you’re giving me a lot more credit than I deserve. You should have asked Hermione. She is good at this kind of thing — planning and all. She’d have an idea for you in three minutes.”

Ron had thrown out every possible proposal idea to Harry that didn’t involve his own plans for Hermione, and so far, nothing had stuck out. They weren’t great ideas anyway, so Ron didn’t blame Harry for rejecting them. But he was becoming tired. It had been a long day at training, and it felt even longer sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place talking about it. 

“Does it really matter how you do it, anyway?” Ron pressed, stifling a yawn. “I mean, you could probably shout it across the house at her and she’d say yes.”

“This might be my one and only chance to be romantic with her,” Harry said. “You know what she’s like —”

“I don’t, and I don’t want to.” Ron stifled another yawn.

“Well, it’s great, because we both like Quidditch and we have a lot to talk about, and I love her, but she’s not into the hand holding or any of that stuff. It’s fine, but I would like a tear or two every once in a while.”

“That’s romantic,” Ron said. “Tell her that. Tell her you want to make her cry.” He just didn’t care anymore. All this talk about engagements was making him miserable. He only had himself to blame, he knew, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to discuss this with Harry. Why had he agreed? His own stupidity aside, it felt very, very weird to be helping his best mate plan how to propose to his sister. 

“Maybe I should have asked Hermione,” Harry said. “All you seem to know is how to delay an engagement, not do one. I’ll take note that if I want to put it off, I’ll just go and buy a ring that costs too much.”

Harry had meant it as a joke, and maybe if it wasn’t eating into his time he usually spent with Hermione, Ron might have laughed. Instead, he just said, “I’ve given you a million ideas. It’s not my fault you’re not liking them.”

“What are you planning on doing for Hermione?” Harry asked, and his tone changed to curiosity. 

“I’m not telling you,” Ron said, turning red.

“I won’t steal it,” Harry promised. “But it might give me some kind of idea.”

Ron hesitated. He didn’t want to share his plan with Harry, not because he was worried Harry would steal it, but because he felt kind of silly saying it out loud. He’d concocted the plan in his head since the day he decided he was going to finally ask her. And it had gradually built up, developed, and changed over the months he’d been forced to wait. But he still wasn’t confident in it, especially since Hermione had revealed her enthusiasm for being proposed to over a quiet dinner at home. 

“I guess I was just going to take her to this lake. It’s in the middle of nowhere, we’ve been there before. It’s one of our favourite spots to go if we want a quiet date. Only accessible via Apparition. And I was going to ask her there, I’m not sure how exactly. In the evening, though, so maybe over food. Food is good. I was even thinking of asking George if he could organise some fireworks or something…” He blushed. “That sounds cheesy, doesn’t it?”

“Nah,” Harry said with a huge grin on his face. “I think that sounds fantastic. Just not for me and Ginny. But you should definitely do it that way. You two are pathetic like that. Hermione will love it.”

“I’m still tossing up about the fireworks,” Ron said. “But I do want it to be special. To be romantic. I just want her to know how much I —” he paused. He’d been going to say I just want her to know how much I love her. But the thing was, she already knew that. He told her every day; he did his best to show her in as many ways as he could. He couldn’t really do much more.

Misery washed over him as he realised that Harry and Ginny had been right when they’d called him an idiot. 

He threw the quill onto the table. 

“I just want to marry her.”

Harry gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, you will. Just… not soon.”

“I want it to be soon, though,” Ron said. “We’ve been through so much, and she knows I’m going to do it soon. She knows I’ve been thinking about it.” He looked at Harry. “I’ve been an idiot.”

“Yep,” Harry said. “I told you that. Why did you do it, Ron? I mean, why did you go out of your way to get her something you couldn’t afford?”

“She’s just so perceptive. I knew the moment I asked her to do something special, she was going to work it out. We’ve been talking about it, so I thought if I at least got her a ring then that would be an element of surprise for her — there’s so many options there’s no way she’d guess what it looked like.”

“True,” Harry said, “so why such an expensive one? You could have chosen a cheaper one and had it straight away.”

Ron didn’t respond. He felt embarrassed now. When the knowledge had just been with him, it had been easier to not think about why he’d made the choice. But now… 

“I just wanted to prove I could do it,” he said.

“Do what?” Harry asked. 

“Afford things. For me. For her… for us. I always watched Mum and Dad struggle. I always got secondhand stuff from all my brothers. I just wanted to be able to buy something that felt important — this is important — on my own. Plus… I really liked that one. I decided on it before I knew the cost.”

Harry said nothing. He looked at Ron with sympathy, which always irritated Ron. Since they’d known each other, Harry had always seemed to pity Ron when it came to money. He claimed it was understanding, for he had spent eleven years of his own life having no money at all. But Harry had almost lived just as long with all the money he could wish for. 

He just didn’t get it. 

Before Harry could say anymore, Ron looked down at the ideas they’d come up with, and he pointed to the third one. “That was Hermione’s idea. I think that one would work for Ginny. I think you could crack her with that.”

“Dinner at home doesn’t sound as thrilling as fireworks by a lake,” Harry said with a wry smile.

“You just said it wasn’t you and Ginny.”

“Yeah, but I daresay Ginny would be as perceptive as Hermione in this situation. It’s not like it’s common for me to cook a romantic dinner in the house.”

“Then don’t tell her,” Ron said. “Make it a surprise when she comes home one time.”

“Or…” Harry’s face brightened, apparently getting an idea. “Or... I could do it in her place in Holyhead. I have a key. While she’s at practice one day, I can get it all ready, and then she’ll come home…”

“Sounds great!” Ron said. “I think she’ll really appreciate it if you were to surprise her. It’s just a matter of when.”

“Next weekend,” Harry said, and he nodded. 

“So soon?” Ron asked. 

“Why wait?” Harry said, and then he looked rather guiltily at Ron. “I mean… yeah.”

“It’s alright,” Ron said. “I only have myself to blame for putting it off for so long. I could have bought her something I could actually afford.”

“Is it just the cost of the ring that is holding you back?” Harry asked after a moment of thoughtful pause.

“Well… yeah,” Ron said. “I want to marry her, and I weirdly don’t feel nervous about asking, or anything like that. I thought I would, but I know I can do it. It’s just.. I don’t have the ring, and I want the ring.”

“How much do you have left on it?” Harry continued. 

“One hundred and fifty Galleons, thereabouts,” Ron said. 

“Blimey! How much did it cost you to begin with?”

Ron didn’t answer. It felt ridiculous now. He felt ashamed, almost. He’d been so caught up in wanting to surprise Hermione that he’d completely forgotten about the most important part in it all.

Hermione. 

He wanted to marry her. He wanted to be able to call her his wife. He wanted the fact that he loved her with everything he had to be public knowledge. He wanted it written down that Ron Weasley was married to Hermione Granger. 

A stupid ring didn’t matter, and neither did a fancy wedding. If he had to marry her in a rundown shack in the middle of England with no one else present, then he would. She was all that mattered, and he knew that she wouldn’t have cared about a ring or what one he got, if he’d even gotten one at all. She loved him, and all she wanted was to be with him.

Why had it taken him so long to realise it? 

“Do you need a loan?” Harry asked after a moment.

“What? No!” Ron said. He wasn’t going to accept money from Harry, which he knew was what Harry was suggesting. “I’ll just… I’ll just do it.”

“Ask her?” Harry said.

“I’ll give the stupid ring place one hundred and fifty Galleons,” Ron said. “Otherwise, this whole thing would be pointless if I go without it now.”

“How about half of it?” Harry said. 

“No,” Ron said firmly. “I’ll cover it.”

“It would just be a loan. You could pay me back —”

“No. I’ll do it. Hermione will murder me for it, so there’ll probably be no wedding, but I’ll get it. I’ll pay it outright. And I’ll ask her. A little bit after you and Ginny, so as not to step on your happiness. Will give me time to think it completely through, plan it out."

“And make me look like the most unromantic person in the world when all I do is cook a dinner,” Harry said with a smile.

Ron shrugged. “I’ve got to get the better of you on something, don’t I?” Something heavy had lifted from his chest all of a sudden. Something that had been weighing him down.

Regret. Guilt. He’d been lying to Hermione about the money. She’d never asked — not even once — but he hadn’t told her about it either. And he’d promised her a year ago now that he would ask her soon, and he hadn’t. That was a lie, too. 

He had a plan now, though. He would get the ring, and he didn’t care that it would put a large dent in their Gringotts vault. He just wanted to marry her, and more than anything else, he wanted her to agree to marrying him, hear her say the words and see what he hoped would be indescribable happiness on her face when he asked. He wanted it to be the most romantic thing he’d ever done and catch her completely by surprise. 

And he should have done that a year ago. 

Idiot.

Harry gave a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked.

"Look at us sitting here discussing our plans to propose and when we should do it.”

"Don't you like the normality of it all?" Ron asked. "I mean, I'm quite comfortable with the idea of my biggest problem being that I can't afford to buy the ring for Hermione that I want to, but doing it anyway. Beats living under a regime of Death Eaters. Or being dead." 

"Absolutely," Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "I hope that this is as stressful as life gets from here on in. I've had enough excitement, enough near death experiences, to last me a few lifetimes."

"Yeah," Ron said. He liked the fact that they had reached a point where they could talk so openly about what had happened to them. It erased some of the trauma he was sure they all still felt. 

"I guess there was just a stage in my life where I believed that something so normal wasn't made for me,” Harry said. “That is, never make it to the age where I could get married. I also thought there was a chance I'd be too damaged for anyone to want to marry me."

"Well, she hasn't said yes, yet," Ron said with a smile. 

"Neither has Hermione," Harry replied, and Ron's smile faltered. 

"Fair."

"Well, at least if they reject us," Harry said, "we still have this friendship. You can come and live back here. We’ll live a life as bachelors."

"No offence, mate, but I like where I live now and I'm quite comfortable there. I hope we never have to live together again."

Harry laughed, looking around his kitchen. "Well, I can't say I like living here, but I see your point. Here's to two yeses and a happy life from here on in with two amazing women who are mad enough to have us."

#Ron and Hermione #ronandhermione #ronandhermionefanfiction #romione #romionefanfiction #ronxhermione #ron x hermione #hermionexron #hermione x ron #hermione and ron #hermioneandron #hermioneandronfanfiction #hermione and ron fanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #slice of life #romance

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 33

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Chapter 33

Ron looked despairingly into the Gringotts bank account he and Hermione had set up when they’d moved in together. It had been easier that way — paying all the funds as one, such as rent for the flat and withdrawing Galleons when they were going out. At the time, earning his own money and now on a level playing field with Hermione, he’d been okay about it. But now… well, now was more challenging. 

Money was going into it on a weekly basis, but money was also coming out every time he took the payment for the ring out. And someone like Hermione, who was good at keeping track of all that kind of stuff, would eventually notice. Surprisingly, she hadn’t yet. Or, if she had, she hadn’t said anything. Perhaps she thought he was just using it to buy other things for himself and didn’t think anything of it. 

That was good in a way, but it bothered him, too. As the weeks wore on, as everyone was still talking about Percy and Audrey’s wedding, he was beginning to think this whole plan had been the wrong plan. He should have just gone with what he could afford and gotten it over with. What did a ring really matter in the scheme of things? Hermione didn’t care about that kind of stuff. She would have agreed to marry him regardless of what he offered in return. He knew that, and yet… he’d let his desire to do it ‘right’ take over. And it had been very, very wrong.

He frowned. That was what came with growing up poor, he realised. He finally had the money to buy something nice and so he went all out. 

And now look where he was. With a debt to pay and nothing to show for it in return — not even the ability to call Hermione his fiance. 

“How much this week, Mr Weasley?” the goblin asked, snapping Ron from his thoughts.

Ron looked down at the goblin, then back into the vault. “Er, ten I suppose. As usual.”

“And send eight of it via owl to Hogsmeade?” the goblin continued.

“Yes,” Ron said. 

The goblin gathered ten Galleons from the vault and stuck eight into a small bag. She passed the other two to Ron. He placed them into his pocket. 

“Is that all?” the goblin then asked.

Ron nodded. “Thanks,” he said, and he watched as the goblin closed the door. It was a small vault compared to the Lestrange one they’d broken into once, or even Harry’s, but it still contained more gold than the Weasley family ever had. 

And it was theirs. 

He and Hermione were doing alright, he supposed. Maybe just not good enough to be taking ten Galleons a week out of it without one of them noticing. 

“The money will be sent via owl this evening, Mr Weasley,” the goblin said. “As per usual.”

“Thanks,” Ron said again, and he jumped back into the cart that would take him back to the surface. Their vault wasn’t too far underground, but it was still a decent journey back to the entrance. And no matter how short it was, it was unpleasant. 

Once he reached it, climbing out of the cart, Ron had to stop for a moment for his eyes to readjust to the light. 

There were a few hours of daylight left, which meant that the shops in Diagon Alley were still open. He had a few Galleons to spare, so he may as well make the most of spending some of it. At least he would have an excuse if Hermione found out about the money this week. 

He strolled past the goblin guards, some of them wishing him a good evening. Ever since the war had ended, he found them far more pleasant than he ever remembered them being, which was surprising considering he’d contributed to the near destruction of the place. Perhaps it was his new outlook on magical creatures thanks to Hermione, or perhaps the goblins were much happier now that their lives weren’t being threatened every day. He couldn’t really tell, but either way, he didn’t hate the visit to the bank as much as he once had. 

Tucked into a little corner near the entrance via the Leaky Cauldron was a florist. From the front door to the back of the shop, the tiny space was decorated in so many bouquets and bunches and designs that Ron had difficulty even entering. 

And the moment he did, he was greeted by a young woman who reminded him very much of Madam Rosmerta in her younger days. But she spoke with the mystical voice of Professor Trelawney, which really ruined her good looks for Ron. 

“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes, I want the biggest bouquet, or whatever you have, for two Galleons. The nicest ones, too.”

“Of course,” the woman said, and she swept to the back of her shop, disappearing amongst the flowers. 

“Is it for someone you love or someone you wish to scare?” she asked.

Ron stared for a moment. Then shaking his head, said, “My girlfriend.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Ron stared for another moment, opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, “Something nice.”

“Of course.” The woman then swept in and out of vines, elaborate chain bouquets, picking this, plucking that. Ron decided he was safest waiting at the counter. Last time he’d been in here, this woman hadn’t been there. In fact, on the multiple occasions he’d thought to buy Hermione flowers, they had been put together by a kind, normal witch.

After about five minutes, she came to the counter where she laid a bunch of unrecognisable flowers on a bunch of red paper. With her wand, she cut a piece of white ribbon and then waved her wand again. The flowers were immediately bunched and wrapped, and then tied. 

“Two Galleons, Sir,” the woman said. 

Ron dug into his pocket and passed over two Galleons.

“Have a good day, Sir.”

“Thanks,” Ron replied. “Er, you too.” He left quickly, hurrying down Diagon Alley with the flowers clutched in his hand to the entrance to their flat. Hermione would be home from work by now.

He made his way up the stairs with an aroma of smells making the short journey pleasant. Those who lived in the neighbouring flats always cooked something nice and it made his stomach growl in anticipation. Unless they went to the Burrow for dinner, he and Hermione didn’t eat as well as the neighbours ever did.

He used his wand to unlock the door and was immediately greeted by Hermione’s beaming face right in front of him. She was so close, he was forced to take a step back through the door. 

“I was beginning to wonder where you’d gotten to,” she said, and her eyes fell on the bunch of flowers still in Ron’s hands.

He passed them to her. “I got you these. I thought you might like them.”

Hermione accepted the flowers with a small smile on her face. She then looked back up at him. "What are these for?"

"Because I love you, and I wanted to," Ron said. "Though, the lady in the shop today was really odd. Probably won't be going back if she's there."

"They're beautiful," Hermione said, and then placed them on the table, almost discarding them. Ron might have been upset had he not bought them for her because he was feeling guilty to begin with.

Instead, he said, "What's got you in a good mood?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, though there was no hiding her apparent excitement over something. 

"Well, you almost knocked me over when I came in, and you just threw those flowers to the side like they were nothing. You seem happy about something, and I don't think it's just because I came home."

Hermione watched him for a moment, as if contemplating something. A smile still played on her lips, though her expression had turned serious.

"Out with it!" Ron demanded. "Did you get made Minister for Magic or something?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, and she led him over to the breakfast table. "I just… I have a proposal for you."

"A what?" Ron asked, his head snapping to her as she all but pushed him into the chair.

"A proposition. An idea. A thought. Whatever you want to call it." Hermione sat in the opposite chair, though Ron now watched her warily.

He didn't think she meant the word proposal literally, but it was all that was on his mind these days. He couldn't really see what else she might have meant. Had he waited too long? Was she becoming frustrated with not getting married? After their unexpected talk at Percy's wedding, had she decided to take matters into her own hands? 

"Well?" Ron asked after she didn't speak. "What do you want to say?"

"I've been thinking," Hermione began, "ever since we talked about it at Percy's wedding."

Dammit. 

"What about that?" Ron asked, feeling his chest tighten a little. If she got too far into things, maybe he should just blurt it out over top of her. He wanted to do it. 

"Big decisions," Hermione said. "The next step. I have been thinking about the first one."

"Oh?"

"Why don't we get a house together?"

Ron paused. His eyes scanned the flat they were sitting in, with the bedroom off to the side, the living space, the kitchen… he looked back at her, not sure whether he felt relieved or disappointed that she hadn't suggested marriage. 

"But… we have a house." It was a dumb comment, because he knew what she meant, but…

"Not one that's ours," Hermione said. "Not one we've bought, not one with a garden, lots of rooms… not one for the future."

The future.

The words sounded good to his ears. A confirmation that everything he was doing, everything he had planned, really was worth it. Even if he had to wait a little bit longer, they still had a future. A long future, he hoped.  

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Hermione continued, and she seemed delightfully happy that Ron couldn’t help but smile. “Even before we discussed it a few weeks back. This place is cramped — even for the two of us — and… well, I really like the idea of planning the future with you, and I think this is a good first step.”

“A big decision,” Ron said. 

“But a smaller, big decision.”

They were silent for a moment. The idea of living in a bigger place with Hermione was greatly appealing. They’d always known that this flat wouldn’t be forever, and if he was being honest, he’d always imagined getting a place somewhere secluded, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A bit like the Burrow or Shell Cottage. 

They could do magic freely without the risk of Muggles seeing, and, well… it would be a good place to raise children, and he was extremely confident that that was one of the things Hermione was alluding to when she spoke of the future.  

“What do you think?” Hermione asked. “I know it’s convenient here — it’s close to everything, but we can Apparate, Floo, all that kind of stuff. Wherever we live, we’d arrange connections to everywhere important via the fireplace.”

“Yeah…” Ron said. “That would be nice.” He smiled at her, suddenly feeling delusionally happy. He loved living with Hermione. Waking up next to her everyday, or stumbling into the kitchen on weekends after she’d already been up for an hour, seeing her messy, unbrushed hair, in her pyjamas… cuddling her at night before they fell asleep…

There was nothing more calming than knowing she was always there.

It seemed like the next step, naturally.

“Let’s do it!” he said after a moment. “A house of our own. One we can add our own touches to.”

Hermione’s smile widened. “This is so exciting!” She then flushed, sheepishly taking out her wand. “I’ve, um… been looking already. Just a little bit.” And before them appeared some newspapers — reminding Ron from when he was back in Grimmauld Place and they were looking for this flat. 

Ron liked the sense of normalcy to it all. Three years ago, he had been convinced they’d all be dead, so to be sitting at a table talking about something as simple as a house was the best feeling. 

“You wouldn’t be the Hermione I know and love if you hadn’t already researched  this,” Ron said, drawing some of the newspapers towards him. He paused at the first one, his smile faltering for the first time. 

“What?” Hermione asked. “I know it’s in a Muggle area, but I thought —”

Ron shook his head. “It’s not that. Wherever you go, I go. It’s just...” It hadn’t occurred to him until he saw the large number in the advertisement. This was going to cost money. Money he was already spending on an engagement ring. 

“We can afford it,” Hermione said gently, seeming to understand his hesitation. “It’s alright.”

Ron looked up from the paper to her. Why was it that whenever he thought something wasn’t going to work, he could just look at her and it didn’t matter anymore? 

Wherever you go, I go. 

“It’s going to be tough until training’s finished,” Ron said. 

“But we can manage. I’ve done the calculations. It’s okay.”

Ron nodded, and Hermione reached out to grab his hands. He squeezed hers tightly. “Then let’s do this,” he said.

How could he say no? Even if it meant he had to take another look at the ring repayments to ensure that they really could afford it. And what if he couldn’t? What was he supposed to say to Hermione then?

She smiled at him again and suddenly, his decision was easy. Who needed to be married? He had everything he wanted sitting at the table with him. 

And it was just about to get a million times better with their first big decision. 

#ronandhermionefanfiction #ron and hermione fanfiction #ronandhermione #ron and hermione #romione #romionefanfiction #romione fanfiction #ronxhermione #ron x hermione #hermionexron #hermione x ron #hermioneandron #hermione and ron #hermioneandronfanfiction #hermione and ron fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harrypotterfanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #romance #slice of life

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 17

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Chapter 17

“No! Hermione!”

Ron woke with a start. It was still pitch black in his room, which told him it was only a little after midnight on Christmas morning. Despite the coolness of his room, he was covered in sweat, the blankets kicked off him and his breathing heavy. 

He reached for his wand on the table beside him and lit it. Hermione was staring at him, concern etched on her face. 

“Are you alright?” she murmured. 

Ron’s heart slowed at the sight of her. It had just been a dream. She was alright; he was alright. They were both safely in bed. 

“Y-yeah,” he said, just as quiet. “Yeah. Just…”

“A nightmare?” Hermione guessed. 

Ron nodded. 

“The same ones as me?”

He nodded again, swallowing hard. He had been at Malfoy Manor again, screaming for Hermione, but this time… this time Bellatrix had managed to kill her. He’d woken just as the green light filled his vision and the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange filled his ears. 

“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Hermione shuffled over in the bed, laying her head against his chest. Ron set down his wand, coating them in darkness once more. His chest heaved up and down, gradually slowing as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair.

“Yeah,” he said again. “I don’t know why I dreamt it, though. I haven’t… not like that before.” He debated whether to tell her how it had ended, but decided against it. What was the point? It was the beginning of their first Christmas together as a couple, and it wasn’t like the dream would ever be true. 

Though, as Hermione fell back into a deep sleep — nightmare free for her tonight — Ron found himself staring up at the blank ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in his mind.

Why had he dreamed about that? After so many months and not a single nightmare, why now? What had triggered it? Nothing had happened the night before that he thought might have brought it on. In fact, he had been blissfully happy to fall asleep with Hermione beside him for the first time in months. 

He’d been so happy, filled with joy and wondering if she’d like the present he got her for Christmas. His last thought that night before drifting off had been of just how much he couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore, that the idea of losing her would be —

Ah! That could have been the reason. 

He finally managed to fall asleep as the early hours of the morning began to peek in through his window, and it felt like only moments before he was being woken by Hermione prodding him in the chest. 

He blinked. It was a bright, yet overcast, day outside.

“Merry Christmas!” Hermione said cheerfully, and when he turned to look at her, she was smiling. 

“M-merry Chr-christmas.” Ron yawned, then rolled onto his side and returned her smile. “What’s the time?”

“Eight,” Hermione said. “A little after. I would have let you sleep longer, but Ginny kept bugging me to wake you up.”

It was then that Ron realised Hermione was fully dressed for the day. He slammed his head back onto the pillow. 

“Did you not sleep well after… after the nightmare?” Hermione asked, now watching him with concern. 

“I couldn’t get to sleep for hours,” Ron told her. “But I think I dreamt it because last night, I fell asleep thinking about how I couldn’t imagine life without you anymore, and that moment was the closest I’d ever come to… to it. I don’t think it’ll happen again.” He reached forward and gripped her hand tightly. “You’re here now.”

It appeared that Hermione didn’t know whether to feel sad or happy about what he’d said, which resulted in her giving a rather awkward smile and saying, “Come on! Get dressed and then we can all head over to the Burrow.”

Ron allowed her to drag him out of bed by the hand, and once on his feet, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her towards him, planting a light kiss on her lips. “Merry Christmas,” he said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, smiling up at him. “But, seriously, get ready. We’re going to be the last ones there.”

Ron dressed quickly and then hurried downstairs with Hermione to find Harry waiting for them. 

“Where’s Ginny?” Ron asked, looking around the kitchen for his sister, but not seeing her.

“She, er, said you were taking too long and went already,” Harry said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Apparently Christmas is really important.” He looked at Ron, wearing the same concerned expression Hermione had earlier. “Hermione said you had a nightmare.”

Ron shot Hermione a reproving look. She turned faintly pink. “It was nothing,” he said. “Once off. That’s all.”

“We’ve all had them, mate,” Harry said. “Trust me. I spent years having them. And they haven’t stopped just because I’m not a Horcrux anymore.”

“Not funny,” Ron said.

“I thought it kind of was.” Harry shrugged. “The point is, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’ve been told memories, the trauma, it can affect you months, even years later. Even when you think you’re fine.”

“It wasn’t that,” Ron said, sighing. “It’s alright. I am fine.”

Harry didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Just, we’re here if you need, alright?”

“Thanks,” Ron muttered. “Should we go?”

Harry threw some Floo Powder into the kitchen fireplace, and one by one, they all went to the Burrow. 

It seemed that now that all but Ginny had moved out, Molly and Arthur had far more time to put up Christmas decorations. The first thing Ron noticed when he arrived was a tall Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, decorated in bizarre mis-matched enchanted ornaments. Some were inherited items that his mother had kept because they belonged to someone important in the family. Others were things that Ron remembered making as a kid with his siblings. Pre-Hogwarts days where Molly had just wanted some peace and quiet for a few moments (usually Fred and George running wild) and she’d sat them all down with something to do. Those somethings had turned into Christmas decorations.

Then there were the bought ones that had accumulated over the years.

Ron had missed Christmas at the Burrow. 

The rest of the house was just as oddly decorated, but Ron couldn’t help but grin at how homey his parents had made it. Harry had made some kind of an effort to do up Grimmauld Place for the holiday, but training had kept them working until December twenty-third, and they simply had not had time to do much more than a semi-decorated Christmas tree in the kitchen.

“Oh, Merry Christmas you three!” Molly said, beaming, and gave each of them a hug in turn.

“Merry Christmas, Mum,” Ron said. “Good to see you looking so happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be, Ronald?” Molly asked. “There’s a lot to be happy about this Christmas.”

Also a lot to be missed, Ron thought, though he didn’t dare express that. He’d half expected to find his mum in tears with it being the first Christmas without Fred. Though, ever since Bill and Fleur had shared their news about the baby, he’d found her in such a joyous mood every time he dropped by that he didn’t know whether to be happy or concerned. 

“Come on, come on!” Molly said, ushering them over to the sofas and armchairs. “We’ll open some presents, and then a little after that, we’ll have lunch.”

Ron squeezed onto a sofa beside Percy and Hermione sat beside him. Ginny and Harry wound up on the floor, and it wasn’t until Ron looked straight up did he notice —

“George!”

Hermione’s head snapped up, Harry and Ginny spun around. George, who’d still been absent for much of the past few months, was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. 

He looked better than Ron had seen in a long while, even offering everyone a smile and a wave. “Merry Christmas!” he said. 

"Merry Christmas," everyone murmured, and George's smile widened slightly.

Molly, as usual, had knitted everyone a jumper. Also as usual, everyone thanked her and smiled, but Ron knew they'd most likely be put away and never worn. 

"Oh, Ron, this is beautiful!" Ron looked up from opening his gift from Harry, who'd taken the liberty in buying out a lot of Honeydukes, and saw Hermione holding up a gold necklace. 

"Er, you like it?" he asked. 

"It's stunning!" Hermione said, running her fingers along the gold chain and settling on the pearl pendant at the end. It had cost him most of his earnings from the Ministry, but seeing the look on her face made every single Galleon worth it.

He beamed. "Glad you like it!" he said. "I was worried maybe I'd chosen wrong, or something."

"Thank you," she said. "It's perfect." She then passed him a neatly wrapped rectangular gift. As he began to open it, she said, "I would have liked to have gotten you the broom, but… that was ridiculously expensive, so —"

Hermione had gotten him brand new, black marble chess pieces. They were smooth and clean, and he'd be the first one to get to use them. 

"Woah!" he said, grinning at Hermione, "Thanks. Hey, Harry, fancy a game of chess later today?" He held up the chess pieces to Harry who had just opened Ginny's present to him.

"Sure!" Harry said. "They look nice."

"You know…" Hermione said, setting aside her other gifts and staring down at the necklace, "I can play with you, too. You want to help me put it on?"

Ron took the necklace from her and she lifted her hair out of the way so he could get it on. "You? Play chess? You hate it."

"I don't hate it. I just… don't understand it that well. You could teach me, though, couldn't you?"

Ron fastened the necklace, surprising himself by how easily he'd managed to do so. Hermione turned back to face him.

"You want me to teach you how to play chess?" he asked, not sure he had heard right. 

"Yes," Hermione said. "Then we could play together. I'd like to learn."

Ron contemplated her request for a moment, smiling. "Sure, I can teach you, but I won't be teaching you all my secrets. It's the one thing I can beat you at, and I'd like to keep it that way, thanks."

Hermione laughed. "Can anyone beat you, anyway?"

"Yeah, Bill, maybe. He taught me how to play. That necklace looks great on you, by the way." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. He wished he could do more, but the living room of his family home with everyone around was not the appropriate place to do so. 

As much as he hated Grimmauld Place, he really did like the privacy it gifted them. 

"Merry Christmas."

They spent the next few hours around the living room. Ron immediately got out his chess pieces and set up a game with Harry. His new pieces were great, much better than the old ones, and he annihilated Harry three times straight before Harry gave up, muttering something about having to help with lunch. 

So, he offered to teach Hermione — who'd been watching his games with Harry intently.

"It's the same as normal chess, isn't it? The rules, I mean?" she said.

"Er, I think," Ron said, setting up his own and Harry's pieces. "Never played the Muggle one before. Besides, you have played it before..." A thought suddenly occurred to him — something he’d not realised before. “Wait, you’ve played it plenty of times. Why do you want me to teach you? You know how to play well enough to give a good game.”

Hermione shrugged, smiling. “Maybe,” she said, “I thought it was a good way to spend time together. Besides, as you said, I can play well enough. I want to know some of your tricks.”

“... oh,” Ron said, feeling his face go red. “Well, right… alright. I’ll teach you. Though, there are plenty of other things we can do to spend time together, you know?”

Ginny, who’d been walking past in that moment, scoffed. “Yeah, but chess is something you can do in public.”

Ron ignored her, looking up at Hermione and indicating the chess board. “You go first. Let’s see how you go.”

It took five games in quick succession for Hermione to make an impact. On the sixth one, Ron suspected that perhaps she’d given up. Hermione didn’t like to lose, and he could see her frustration building, but she persisted, just so he could keep teaching her, he thought. It didn’t bother him, though. It gave them something to do, and he kind of liked the idea of her letting him teach her something. 

Halfway through the seventh game, Molly announced that lunch was ready.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Ron asked, smiling at Hermione. “I had fun.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, standing up and collecting Harry’s chess pieces. “Though, I do have to get some homework done tomorrow morning. Maybe in the afternoon?”

“What?” Ron said as they made their way into the kitchen. “Work? You brought work with you? It’s Christmas!” He couldn’t help feeling a little disgruntled by this unexpected news. She’d only arrived Christmas Eve and had insisted that she needed to return the day after Boxing Day. 

He realised it had taken quite an amount of persuasion to get her out of the school to begin with, but he’d thought she could at least put the books down for a few days.

“It’s a lot of work, Ron,” Hermione said in a hushed voice as they sat down at the table. “NEWTs are even bigger than OWLs, and —”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Ron asked, also keeping his voice low. “Just sit around and watch you study?” 

“No, you can always spend some time with Harry. Ginny…”

“I see Harry every day!” Ron snapped under his breath. “You, however — my girlfriend, in case you’ve forgotten — I’ve seen less of since we’ve been together than I have since I’ve known you.”

“That’s hardly my fault!” Hermione hissed. “You would have preferred me to leave my parents in Australia, then?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Ron said. “You never told me you wanted to go back to Hogwarts until you’d basically arranged it. I thought… well, I just thought you’d tell me something like that, you know? Bothered to mention it at the very least.”

“Everything okay, dears?” Molly asked, looking at Ron and Hermione with a questioning look. 

Hermione, who’d been about to argue back, closed her mouth. Ron looked at her and saw that she looked rather upset about something. He guessed his own face showed his frustration too. He’d never been good at hiding his feelings.

“Yes,” Ron said, perhaps a little too quickly.

Hermione shot him a scathing look, but said nothing more. 

Harry stared at them both from across the table, looking rather alarmed. Before he’d left to help with lunch, Ron and Hermione had been perfectly happy. 

Ron piled the food onto his plate, glowering at it as he did. Why did she have to keep doing that? Keep making plans without telling him? He’d thought they’d have all of Christmas and Boxing Day together. Even if she’d bothered to mention that she brought work with her, he could have planned around that. Compromised, even…

Once the table had erupted into pleasant chatter, Bill and Fleur talking excitedly about the impending arrival of their baby in April to anyone who would listen, George — to Ron’s delight — speaking about his plans to reopen the joke shop soon, and Percy speaking loudly about how maybe next Christmas, if they were still together (which he hoped they would be), he’d spend Christmas with Audrey’s Muggle family. This seemed to interest Arthur, dropping hints about how he’d love to be invited as well. 

Under the raucous of Christmas lunch, Hermione elbowed Ron. He turned to her, not at all in the mood to continue on with the argument they’d started. But the look on her face was gentler.

“Did you, um, have plans for tomorrow?” she asked, sounding apologetic. 

“No,” Ron mumbled. “I mean, nothing beyond us doing something together. Making up for lost time… you know...”

“It’s just, the workload is really tricky,” Hermione said. “And, I just wanted to get a start on —”

Ron turned back to his food, once again in no mood for talking. 

“— Ron, please, just…”

“It’s okay,” Ron said amidst the loud chatter around them. “I get it. You’ve always been like that. Ever since I’ve known you. Really, I should have guessed.”

“Ron —”

“It’s fine, Hermione. Honestly. I’ll just… I dunno, maybe I’ll come back here tomorrow. Leave you in peace.”

The rest of lunch was very uncomfortable for him. Ron didn’t speak to Hermione, and despite a few attempts on her part, it seemed she had no idea what to say to him. If she’d just admit that she didn’t need to do anything tomorrow, then perhaps they could resolve the issue, but she seemed hellbent on standing her ground, and therefore, so would he. 

“Everything okay?” Ginny asked after lunch, when Hermione had quickly volunteered to help Molly clean up — along with Harry, who was probably querying Hermione at this very moment.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” Ron asked, sinking onto a step at the foot of the staircase. 

“Well, you’re sulking,” Ginny said. “And you and Hermione didn’t look very happy over lunch. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Ron…”

“Not your business, Ginny,” Ron said. “It’s nothing. Just a small argument, that’s all.”

“So you’re going to sulk for the rest of the day then?” Ginny asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Because if you are, maybe go home. We don’t need your mood here. Especially when Mum is trying to keep it together.”

“What do you mean?” Ron looked up at her. “Mum’s fine. Happy, even.”

“You didn’t notice, did you?” Ginny said.

“Notice what?” 

“The empty seat at the table.”

“The — what? I never saw —” Truthfully, Ron had not taken much in at the table, too busy being upset with Hermione to even enjoy himself. 

“Yeah, she set a spot for Fred,” Ginny said. “Kept looking up at it, fighting back tears. It’s tough, Ron. Tough on all of us. So if you’re going to be moody, take it elsewhere. Or make up with Hermione. I’m sure whatever’s happening is something you can sort out. Tell you’re sorry for whatever it is you’ve done and —”

“I didn’t do anything!” Ron snapped. “Why do you assume it’s me? It’s her… her and her obsession with work. If she just wasn’t so obsessed with it, then… then I’d be okay.”

“You're upset because she’s obsessed with her work?” Ginny asked, sounding amused. “Do you even know her?”

“Yes, I know her! Maybe you can talk to her then. Talk her around. Tell her she’s being ridiculous, and she can go one more day without feeling the need to get her books out.”

“What are you talking about, Ron?” Ginny asked.

Ron jumped up from the step. “Nothing.”

“Well, just try and enjoy the rest of the day, alright? For Mum’s sake. Even if you have to fake it, and then you and Hermione can fight as much as you want when you get home.”

Ron glared at her, feeling his frustration rise. Why couldn’t Hermione just relax a bit? Why did she have to be so —

“Fine,” he muttered. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.” And he stormed off toward the kitchen. Maybe if he made up with Hermione, it would convince her to change her mind anyway.

…

It didn’t. 

The rest of Christmas had been alright, Ron finding Hermione after his talk with Ginny and making things right with her again. Neither of them had apologised specifically, though he thought kissing her in a manner that left her blushing had been a good step to go about it. He’d still been mad with her, but he tried to let that slide for the remainder of the day and well into the evening. 

By the time they’d gotten home later that night, he’d almost forgotten about their argument all together, and their first Christmas together had ended quite wonderfully. 

But, by next morning, it seemed that no amount of affection, no amount of I love yous, and no amount of sex could deter her from her work. When Ron woke he found the space beside him empty, despite it being rather early. They’d gotten back fairly late, been awake even longer — he’d thought that she’d want to sleep for hours.

“What are you doing?” After dressing and stopping by the bathroom to see if she was in there, he came down to the kitchen. She was hunched over an impressive spread of parchment and books and was scribbling away rather quickly for this time of the morning. 

She looked up, a flicker of guilt flashing across her face, before she said, “I thought I’d get some of it done before you… before anyone got up.” She didn’t quite meet his eye as she spoke. “You’re up early.”

Ron took a seat opposite her. “So are you.”

She blushed. “Yes, well…”

“You couldn’t even go two days without thinking about it, could you?” Ron said. “Not even after what happened yesterday. Was I being unreasonable when I asked for two days of your time over the holidays? That’s all, and you couldn’t even manage it.”

Hermione had started gathering up all her bits and pieces, her face filled with guilt. “I thought if I got it done in the morning, then we could… we could have the rest of the day together.”

“It’s not the point, Hermione!” Ron said, feeling a surge of anger inside of him that he’d not felt towards her since… well since he’d thought Crookshanks had eaten his pet rat. “Last night, when we got home, you said to me you could leave it another day. I asked you, and you specifically said —”

“I know what I said!” Hermione told him in an anguished tone. “Alright, I know what I said, but you asked me just after we’d had sex, and I was obviously in a good mood, and, well, you caught me in a moment of weakness. And I didn’t want what you were doing to stop.”

Ron stared at her. She seemed to have realised what she’d said, because her whole face went a furious red and she jumped to her feet so quickly she knocked her chair over.

“I-I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t mean…” she set the books back on the table and with a tap of her wand, they vanished. Then, she picked up her chair and sat back down, burying her face in her hands. 

Rather than feeling sorry for her, Ron said, “So you lied to me? Just so you could have sex with me?”

“No!” Hermione groaned. “No, I didn’t lie to you. I meant it when I promised you I’d stay away from it. But then when I woke up this morning, I started to stress over it. You seemed out of it, so I thought if I just got an hour in, before you woke up, then… I’m sorry, Ron. I know I promised. I know it looks really bad. I’m sorry.”

“It feels pretty bad, too,” Ron said. He’d really thought he’d convinced her last night, but now all he felt was that she’d used him. He couldn’t recall a time he’d felt so bad about Hermione — as her friend or otherwise — and he’d been pretty miserable when he was convinced she would never see him as anything more than a friend. But it seemed that this now took the cake. Wasn’t she supposed to love him?

“I’m sorry, Ron. I really am. I won’t even look at any homework until I set foot back on school grounds. I won’t even think about it. We can do anything you want today. I’ll —”

“Maybe you should leave,” Ron said darkly.

This seemed to upset her more than anything else. “Ron —”

“You made it clear from the beginning that you were only coming here because I asked you to,” Ron continued, unable to stop himself. “You would have much rather stayed at the school, spending Christmas with your head in your books than with me. You —”

“That’s not true.”

“You then told me you’d changed your mind, acting like you actually cared and I’d managed to convince you that I was better than staying on top of your work, when in reality, I apparently just had you ‘in a moment of weakness’, and then once that was over, once you’d snapped out of that, you couldn’t have cared less about what you’d said to me.”

“No! That’s not true at all, Ron. I do care about you. More than anything. More than —”

“You’re still lying, Hermione! Just… just stop.”

“Ron, I really, really am —”

“Just go,” Ron said. “I really shouldn’t have bothered trying to fix things with you yesterday. It clearly meant nothing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked. 

“It means that I was still mad at you yesterday, but Ginny convinced me to patch things up for the rest of the day because of Mum. So I thought I would, and I realise now I was wrong, because you don’t even care. You never did.”

For a moment, the room was filled with silence. Hermione’s face gradually grew darker as his words sunk in. 

Ron momentarily looked away despite himself. He was angry with her, but he still loved her, and even though he knew he was right in being upset about it all, he hated knowing that what he said was true. He had pretended to make up yesterday because of Ginny’s words. But she had also pretended, so they were kind of even. 

He pushed away the small seed of guilt that had planted itself inside of him at his words and glared at her. 

When she spoke, her voice had lost all of its remorse. 

“You mean to say,” she began, “that all of those things you said yesterday, all of last night, was just an act? And here I was, feeling guilty because —”

“No, it wasn’t an act,” Ron said. “Because believe it or not — and stupidly, so it seems — I actually got over it. By the time we came home, I’d almost forgotten all about it. Would have been nice for you to apologise, though.”

“Me?” Hermione shrieked, and they both glanced to the door to see if it would draw Harry and Ginny down. “I wasn’t the one being unreasonable yesterday. I wasn’t —”

“So, me asking you to take two whole days out of your life for me is being unreasonable, is it?” Ron leapt to his feet, his own voice rising for the first time. 

“It is when I told you I needed to get stuff done!” Hermione cried, also springing to her feet. “You didn’t even have a plan for today. You just wanted me here.”

“Yes, because I stupidly love you and want to spend time with you. You’re my girlfriend, and we’ve spent more time apart than we have together. I hate it, and I miss you. When we get two days together, I just want it to be us. You have every other day to do the other stuff.””

They glared at each other across the long table, both breathing heavily, both furious. 

It was Ron who looked away first, realising she wasn’t going to budge. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. Forget I ever asked you. Forget I even bothered. How stupid of me to think that maybe you’d actually want to spend Christmas with me. Next time I’ll remember you’d much rather be spending it in the Hogwarts library alone.” He turned away, too angry and hurt to even look at her anymore. “I guess this is how it’s going to be, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, and her voice had returned to normal again. 

Still with this back to her, Ron said, “You and me. I suppose I’ve got to get used to coming second to your work.”

There was a long silence, Ron focusing his attention on the odd wall patterns. He’d never noticed just how unusual they were before. 

Then, “Is that how you feel?”

“At the moment? A little, yeah.” He finally turned to look at her again, and he saw that her anger had subsided. He felt his own frustrations melt a little upon seeing her expression, too. She was no longer glaring at him, but looking at him with an air of guilt and surprise — as if she hadn’t realised that it had bothered him so much, that it had felt like a rejection to him. 

He ran his fingers along the table for something to do — he didn’t know what to say now.  

“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that. I never meant to.” She looked down at the table where her work had been sitting a few moments ago. “I really did want to come here for Christmas. I really did want to spend the day with you. I suppose… I suppose I just have to learn to prioritise better.” She looked up, offering a smile. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had a proper relationship. I’m still learning.”

Her smile had Ron’s own resolve weakening. He shrugged. “Yeah, and I suppose I need to be a little more understanding of who you are. I mean, I know who you are, what you’re like. I know what’s important to you. I’m really proud of you, by the way. Your dedication, how clever you are...” He also stared at where her work had been a moment ago. “And it’s not like you wasted the whole day doing it. I wasn’t even up, was I?” He felt a tad stupid, only now realising he’d still been in bed the whole time she’d been up, and she’d stopped the moment he’d come down — albeit a little too angry with her. 

“This isn’t as important as you, Ron. I hope you know that,” Hermione whispered. “It doesn’t come first.”

Ron shrugged again, but said nothing. Sometimes he wasn’t sure about that, and sometimes he let his mind get away from him. It wasn’t really her fault — it was his own. 

He looked back up to her, momentarily surprised to see what was sitting around her neck. “You’re wearing the necklace,” he said.

“Of course,” Hermione replied, fingering the pendant and smiling slightly. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

Ron returned her smile, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest upon seeing her wearing it. He’d been hurt by her, yes, but at the end of the day, he’d known her for eight years now and her habit of overworking hadn’t changed in all that time. It was a part of her that frustrated him, sure, but it was also the part that he deeply admired and loved about her. He supposed that being in a relationship with her made it just that little bit harder to accept than it had when he’d been her friend. 

“I’m glad,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t know if you would… Hermione, I didn’t mean to get so upset. I just… I’m sorry. I miss you. This is a really sucky first year of being with you. I don’t get to see you when that’s all I want to do.”

Still smiling, Hermione stepped around the table so they were on the same side. She hesitated for a moment, and then closed the distance between them. 

Ron held her to him, his chin on the top of her head. A moment later, Hermione looked up, and he kissed her. 

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Harry and Ginny came in with grave looks on their faces.

“Everything okay?” Ginny asked them. “We heard… well, we thought we heard —” She eyed Ron and Hermione suspiciously, as if she hadn’t expected to find them locked together like they were. 

Ron looked at Hermione, and they both smiled at one another. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” Ron said. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“It didn’t sound like —” 

Harry placed a hand on Ginny’s shoulder, and she fell silent, nodding. 

“Well, that’s good.” She then moved over to the benches, opening the cupboards. “You guys had breakfast?”

“No,” Ron and Hermione said together.

“Hm, well, what do you two have planned today? Anything exciting?”

“Er —”

“Not sure yet,” Hermione said. “Maybe something with just the two of us, though? If that’s alright?”

Ginny turned back to them, shrugging. “I don’t care what you do,” she said. “Go for it. Just, please, for the love of Merlin, remember to put silencing charms around your room this time.”

Ron grinned at Hermione, pulling her close again. She had turned a deep pink. 

“Love you,” he whispered, kissing her again. Then, lowering his voice even further, he added, “Let’s never fight again.”

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 22

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-------------------

Chapter 22

“I can’t believe I lived eleven years of my life without magic.” Harry smirked as he stared out the window of Ron and Hermione’s flat, watching the stragglers of the day making their way back home from Diagon Alley. 

Despite the music raging, the lights flashing, and the ridiculous raucous that was coming from above, the people on the street below seemed not to notice. In fact, they would hear no sound at all. 

“I mean, how great is this? Throwing a party and you don’t even upset the neighbours?”

“Yeah, well, lucky for us,” Ron said, glancing around at the small room filled with more people than Ron had ever anticipated. Having a few close friends over had turned into half of their year turning up, word of mouth spreading rapidly. It had been unexpected, though a pleasant surprise. Some of these people Ron hadn’t seen in over a year, having not caught up with them at the memorial service a few months prior. 

There was Seamus, Dean and Neville by the kitchen, Butterbeers in hand, laughing at something Seamus had just said. 

Beside them was Lavender, apparently her first big outing since the war. She was looking around very nervously at everyone, always touching her face, which was horribly scarred. Lavender, Ron had heard, had refused to come unless Parvati did, and Parvati had told Padma about it, who had invited her Ravenclaw buddies. 

Neville had been invited, who was somehow in contact with the Hufflepuffs, so they’d all shown up, too. Then there was George and Percy, who’d brought Audrey along (who seemed very much at home being surrounded by a bunch of wizards and not at all put out by it), and even a few faces Ron didn’t recognise. 

“Remind me to put some damn good privacy charms around this place afterwards,” Ron said to Harry, watching a tall, slightly older man skulk around the edge of the partiers. 

Harry snorted into his half-drunk Butterbeer. “You’ll need some Ministry-level ones after this.”

“Well, at least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” Ron scanned the crowd, unable to stop himself from smiling. It was good to see everyone again, even if most of them he’d spent seven years never speaking to. It reminded him of the old times. 

“There you are!”

Ron spun to find Hermione striding towards him. She was very pink in the face, her hair — which she had attempted to slick back — had slipped in parts, the curls escaping the magic. But she was wearing a large smile as she flung her arms around Ron’s neck and drew him into a deep kiss. 

Her breath smelled of Firewhisky, and Ron suspected she may have helped herself to a few too many glasses of the potent drink that was being passed around freely. 

He chuckled against her mouth, to which she pulled away, frowning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Ron said, stifling a grin. He looked over her shoulder to where Harry had been standing with him by the window, but discovered that his friend had snuck away and was now talking to Dean, probably about Auror training. 

He looked back at Hermione, whose cheeks had turned from pink to red. Her hair had slipped out even more, and Merlin, she was beautiful, even in a drunken state. 

“You’re smiling,” Hermione said, her frown deepening. “Do I amuse you?”

“Yes, a little,” Ron said. “Found the Firewhisky, did you?”

“George was pouring everyone some glasses. I thought —”

Ron could no longer contain the laugh that had been desperate to escape ever since she’d kissed him in a manner that a sober Hermione never would have in the vicinity of so many people. 

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” Ron said. “And it’s fantastic. Kiss me like that again. I liked it.” He set aside his own drink, wrapping her in his arms, but she pulled away, looking up at him with an offended look. 

Ron grinned, and he guided her over to where Harry and Dean were talking.

“... Ron, Neville and I are doing a lot of work with Patronuses at the moment,” Harry was saying to Dean. “It’s the second year of training. So don’t worry too much. Neville didn’t master the talking Patronus until a few weeks back.”

The words seemed to ease Dean’s concern. He nodded, waving to Ron and Hermione as they joined him. A moment later, Ginny came over too, clutching a Butterbeer. Everyone was going to wake up with headaches in the morning, Ron thought. 

“Excited about your NEWT results?” Dean asked, looking between Hermione and Ginny. “I hear they’ll be out soon…”

“Why do you think Hermione has had far too many Firewhiskies?” Ginny said, grinning.

“I’m not drunk!” Hermione said, though as she spoke, she somehow managed to stumble on her own feet and clutched Ron for support. 

Ron, Harry and Ginny stifled laughs, while Dean looked at her, slightly taken aback.

“But now that you’ve reminded me… Dean, I think I might find George and see if he’s got anymore…” And she pushed her way through the crowd towards Ron’s brother.

Ron shook his head, watching her in amazement. He couldn’t contain the grin on his face, as thoughts wandered into his head — thoughts that he had so desperately tried to push aside for the year and a bit he’d been with her, but ones that had always lingered, threatening to burst through at any moment. 

If he could love her like this, drunk and stumbling her way through a party, then he could love her always. Forever. No matter what. 

I want to marry her. 

He refrained from laughing when she crashed into Ernie MacMillan.

“Excuse me?”

Ron turned away from Hermione, and back to the others. They were all staring at him, eyes wide. “What?” he asked, looking between their bewildered expressions.

“What do you mean, what?” Harry said. “‘I want to marry her.’ Explain yourself.”

Ron opened his mouth, feeling heat creep up his neck and onto his ears. “I, er, I said that out loud, did I?” 

“Yep,” Harry, Ginny and Dean all said together. 

Ron flushed. “Well, I don’t mean now,” he said. “I just mean… one day.” He glanced over his shoulder again, where Hermione was talking to George and Lee, appearing much happier to be in their presence than she had ever been before. 

“What a romantic,” Ginny said, her voice reeking of sarcasm. “She gets drunk for the first time in her life, and you decide you want to marry her.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go telling her that,” Ron said. “I don’t want her thinking…”

“No need, mate,” Harry said, who had had the clearest view of Hermione still across the room, apart from Ron. “Pretty sure she heard you.”

“It’s too noisy in here,” Ron said. “She can’t have.”

Harry shrugged, and Ron once again looked over at Hermione. She cast Ron a bright smile, which he returned. She couldn’t have heard him from all the way across there. He hoped not, at least. He didn’t want her thinking he was planning anything so soon into their relationship.

“Who do you think will be the next to get married?” Ginny asked. 

“Ron and Hermione,” Harry said with a wry smile at Ron. 

Ron went very red. 

“Nah,” Ginny said. She scanned the room. “Percy and Audrey look fairly cosy over there, don’t they? And Audrey doesn’t look at all bothered by the whole magic business. In fact, I think they’re the perfect couple. She’s as pompous as he is.”

“What?” Ron said. “Audrey?” He followed his sister’s gaze. He’d met Audrey a few times now, and not at all gotten that impression. 

“Well, yes. Have you heard her rambling on about how her ‘boyfriend leads a department’ or ‘her boyfriend did really well in his exams’. She’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. Doesn’t matter that she doesn’t understand half of what she’s talking about. The fact that he’s successful is what attracts her. He could have been You-Know-Who’s right hand man and she’d be proud of the fact that he got promoted so highly.”

Ron stared at Ginny for a moment, amazed that she seemed to find fault in all of her brothers’ girlfriends. “So, what’s wrong with Hermione then? Go on, tell me.”

“What are you talking about?” Ginny asked. 

“Well, you take issue with Fleur, and now Audrey, so what’s wrong with Hermione?”

“Nothing,” Ginny said. “And I never said I didn’t like Audrey. Didn’t I just say they’re a perfect match? It’ll be a competition between you and Percy, though. Who will be the first to grow a pair and ask their respective girlfriends to marry them?”

Ron opened his mouth to argue, to ensure anyone who would listen that he was not planning to do that anytime soon, but Harry jumped in before he had the chance.

“And what about me?” Harry asked, looking at Ginny with a rather amused expression.

“Oh, I know you’ve got a pair,” Ginny said mildly. “And I know you’ll use them when the time comes.” She smiled to herself. 

Ron balked at her, and Dean looked rather bemused at the casual exchange. Harry opened his mouth but didn’t respond, apparently not expecting that response. 

“Well, if you must know,” Dean said, breaking the silence, “Seamus and Lavender are engaged.” He indicated behind him to where Lavender stood beside Seamus, still looking rather terrified. She spotted everyone looking at her and turned away. 

“You know, I think that’s sweet,” Ginny said. “The fact that he’s stood by her after everything that happened. Good for them.”

Ron had to agree with Ginny, but more on the fact that Seamus had stayed with Lavender, even after her attack. She’d always been alright looking, but now, a lot of her prettiness was covered with scars. There was barely a patch on her face that didn’t have some kind of reminder of her injury. 

Ron hated himself for thinking it, but if they’d still been together when she was attacked, he was fairly confident he would not have done the same. He drifted his eyes to Hermione, who was now speaking to Padma Patil. Although, if it had been Hermione who had been attacked… well, his feelings for her and his feelings for Lavender had always been very, very different. If it had been Hermione, he didn’t think one thousand scars across her face could have changed the fact that he’d fallen helplessly in love with her. 

He supposed that was how Seamus felt, too. 

Ron left the small group, having just spotted Hermione heading toward the bathroom. She appeared rather unsteady.

“You alright?” he asked, catching her arm. She was very flushed in the cheeks now. 

“Yep,” Hermione said, beaming. “Perfectly fine. Perfectly happy. Great party, isn’t it?”

And it was then Ron decided that even if she had heard what he’d said, she wasn’t going to remember it anyway. 

“It’s not bad,” Ron said, catching her as she swayed against him, “but maybe you should sit down. And no more Firewhisky for you, either. Since when do you like that stuff?” He guided her to the sofa, as two people Ron didn’t know the names of hopped up before Hermione collapsed on top of them. 

“I think I’ve failed all my NEWTs,” Hermione said vaguely. “I’ll be jobless, and… and NEWT-less —” she giggled in a very unHermione-like way. “NEWT-less…”

“Apparently that’s why you drink,” Ron said, sitting down beside her. He Summoned a glass of cool water and passed it to her. “I’ll remember that for the future,” he said as she took a deep drink from the glass.

When she’d finished it, she looked at Ron with a slightly more sober expression. She smiled. “You know what?”

“Yeah?” Ron said, his thoughts running away from him again as she stared at him with her astray hair and pink cheeks. I do want to marry her. One day. Merlin, I really do.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at Firewhisky again after tonight. My mouth is numb from it.”

Ron grinned, and then laughed. “Yeah, well, you did drink an awful lot of it. And for the record, you’re not going to fail your NEWTs. And also for the record, I will never let you forget this. You, drinking too much Firewhisky… I’ll remember this forever.”

Hermione scowled. 

“I’ll make sure you never forget it either,” he added, drawing her towards him so that he could kiss her. He could taste the burn of the Firewhisky on her lips, and it had never tasted better.

…

Two days after the party, Ron woke to sunlight blaring through the drawn window. It was one thing he hated about this place — the sun rose far too early and glared right at him at some ungodly hour in which he was forced to get up. 

It had been most unpleasant the day before, where he (and Hermione, which Ron was still laughing about) had been attempting to sleep off a horrible hangover. Hermione, more so than Ron. 

She had felt dreadful when she’d woken, groaning as the humming of the crowd below grew noisier the later it got. Shops began opening around nine on Sundays, but that had been far too early for her. She hadn’t even been able to get out of bed until Ron had gone to the apothecary and bought her a Pepper-Up potion, which she’d downed in one hit. 

Ron had spent the day laughing at her every time she complained, which had resulted in her not speaking to him for most of the evening and night. 

“Morning,” Ron said as he yawned and rolled over to kiss Hermione, only to find her not there. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was a Monday, and he’d have to get to training in an hour or two, but she had nothing to do.

Curious as to what, apart from the glaring light, had dragged her out of bed so early, he stumbled from the room and into the tiny living space, finding her sitting at the little kitchen table. 

“Morning,” he said, coming over to kiss the top of her bushy head. “What’s got you up so early?” But the answer was laying in front of him the moment he asked it. Sitting on the table in front of her, spread out, were five official envelopes, all addressed to Hermione, with the Ministry symbol in the corner. 

Hermione was staring at them, white-faced, her hands clasped together in her lap. 

“Oh,” Ron said, “Your NEWT results have come.”

Hermione didn’t even look at him, but gave a short nod, her face very pale. 

“Hermione,” Ron said, “why haven’t you opened them? You’re not seriously worried that you’ve failed, are you?”

Hermione said nothing. 

“If you’d failed, you wouldn’t have these.” He indicated the four thinner envelopes as he took the other seat at the table. 

This time, Hermione looked up at him, looking terrified. “What are those other ones?” she whispered. “I was just expecting one, but then the owl also had these…”

Ron chuckled. “They’re job offers, Hermione,” he said. 

“What?”

“Well, the Ministry is aware of everyone’s results before you receive them, you see. They go through them and highlight who might be suited for particular jobs. The jobs aren’t always at the Ministry, either. Then, they send you offers along with your results.” He studied the envelopes for a moment, before smiling at her. “Four’s impressive. Percy only got two.”

This didn’t seem to ease her nerves at all. If possible, she looked even paler. 

“Oh, come on,” Ron said, picking up the most formal of the five envelopes. 

“You do it!” Hermione said. “I don’t think I can bear it.”

Shrugging, Ron tore open the results to Hermione’s NEWTs, and for a moment, considered telling her she’d failed everything, but thought better of it when he saw how anxious she appeared. 

“An Outstanding in every damned thing,” he said, laying the parchment in front of her. “I could have told you that. In fact, I’m pretty sure I did.” He beamed. “You are honestly the smartest person I know.”

Relief flooded Hermione’s face as she read through her results. Her face grew some colour back in it, and a smile played at the corner of her mouth. 

“Now, let’s see who wants the most brilliant witch to ever grace this world to work for them.” Ron opened the first envelope and read it. He snorted. 

“What?” Hermione asked, snatching the letter from him. 

“You’re not going to waste your talents working at the Menagerie,” Ron told her. “That’s actually insulting to send you that. I hope they’re not all like that.”

The next three were all Ministry offers — one in Magical Law, one in the Magical Creatures department and the third in the Magical Transportation department. 

“Honestly, you’d be great in all of them,” Ron said, “but I’d say no to the transportation one. Percy would be your boss.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Hermione reasoned. “He’s a lot better now, and seeing a familiar face…”

She looked at the other two letters, her eyes darting between them. “Oh, there’s so much to think about. I never saw myself in Law, and Magical Creatures would be of interest, but…”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Ron said, and he tapped the letters with his wand. They folded neatly into a pile.

“Where’d you learn that spell?” Hermione asked.

“Training,” Ron said. “Well, kind of. Was more of a tip from one of the Aurors. Said it saved some time with the paperwork.”

“You’ll have to teach me it,” Hermione said, smiling slightly. 

“Coffee?” Ron asked, waving his wand again to set the kettle on the stove and then a third time to light the stove. 

“There’s no water in there, Ron,” Hermione said with amusement.

“Oh, right.” He got up from his chair and filled the kettle with water. 

“I wonder how Ginny and Luna went,” Hermione said as Ron returned to the table. “Maybe I should Floo them and see —”

“Later,” Ron said, grabbing her arm to keep her in her seat. “Let’s have breakfast together. What do you want? Toast? I can make some eggs if you want.”

“Toast is fine,” Hermione said. “And I can make it.” She got up and made her way over to the bench. She took out some bread.

“At the party the other night, Luna said she didn’t think she’d take any job that resulted in a desk,” Hermione said as she began to prepare the bread for toasting. 

“Well, that’s Luna, isn’t it?” Ron said. “What do you think she’ll do? Go searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?”

“Well… yes,” Hermione said. “She mentioned something like that… honestly, that’s very —”

“Luna,” Ron said. “She’ll never change.” He grinned. “So, you remember that conversation, do you? I would have thought the whole night would have been a blank. It seemed to be yesterday.”

“Well, things are coming back to me,” Hermione said in a very matter-of-fact way. “In fact, I think I remember most of what was said to me, or… about me.”

Ron froze. She had her back to him, but her voice had changed as she said the last part. He’d been quite comfortable in thinking that she hadn’t heard a single word of his slip of the tongue that night. That, worst case scenario, she had been too far away. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain to her that he hadn’t meant right now. Just one day.

“Right…” he said slowly. “Well… everyone was really drunk, so whatever you heard, you probably shouldn’t take it seriously.” 

“So, you don’t want to marry me, then?” Hermione turned around to face him, and to Ron’s surprise, she was smiling. 

“Of course I do!” Ron replied, and he could have kicked himself with how quickly he’d said it. His stupid brain couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to hesitate on the matter. “But not right now!” he added hastily. Now that just sounded insulting. He grimaced. 

Hermione didn’t say anything, but continued to watch him with a smile on her face. 

Ron sighed, realising he had no choice but to address it now. “Listen, Hermione… I didn’t even realise I said it. It was a thought that popped into my head in the moment, and I accidentally spoke it out loud. I daresay the drinks loosened my tongue a little. I was hoping you hadn’t heard.”

“It was a nice thing to hear,” Hermione said. “I liked hearing it.”

Ron stared at her, rather taken aback by how easily she was taking this. He’d expected her to start listing all the reasons why they shouldn’t rush into it, why they should wait. Her cheerful silence caught him off guard. 

“You really want to get married to me?” Hermione said after a moment. 

“Yes,” Ron replied. “I do. Of course I do. If I get married, I want it to be to you. I love you. But… er… you don’t mean now, do you? Because I’d like to be able to do it properly. You know, ask you... with a ring and everything, and I simply cannot afford to get you a nice one right now…” He flushed. Why did his mouth have to speak?

Hermione looked as if she was trying to fight back a laugh. “I don’t mean now,” she assured him. “Don’t worry. But it’s nice to know you’re thinking about it. I’d like to marry you, too. One day.”

“Oh… well, that’s good to know,” Ron said, not quite believing what he was hearing. Were they really talking about getting married? 

“What else do you see in the future?” Hermione asked, retaking her seat and staring at him intently. 

“What do you mean?” Ron asked. “Like, with us? Our future… together? Well…” He thought about it for but a second, and suddenly an extremely clear picture flashed into his mind. It was as if it had always been there, but suppressed, not daring to be thought until the timing was right. And now, apparently, was the right time. “I can see us in a house that we own together. Not this tiny flat forever. I see us getting married. I see us… maybe we’ll have kids, too. One day. Two or three, or however many you want. Just not seven. I see us being pretty happy together, if you'll tolerate me for that long, and… well, I guess…" 

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding as if he'd paused in the middle of an immensely captivating story.

"Er…" Ron looked away, unsure on whether he should continue or not. Just how far did she want him to go?

"I'm not going to freak out," Hermione said, as if reading his mind. "I promise."

Still not entirely convinced, Ron averted his eyes to the toast, which had begun smoking because Hermione had been distracted. Smiling slightly, he said, "Well, I guess I'll be taking care of the cooking if you can't even handle toast."

Hermione looked to where he was staring and jumped to her feet, swearing as she ran to get the now burnt toast. Muttering to herself, she tossed the toast in the bin and turned back to look at Ron, her eyes questioning. 

"You really see us having children… and… and all that?"

Ron shrugged. "One day, I guess. If you want."

"I do want that," Hermione said quickly. "One day." She smiled.

"A long way away," Ron emphasised, for he could not picture himself with a child right now, or in the near future. 

Hermione's smile widened, and she nodded. "Yes," she agreed, "many, many years away."

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 20

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Note: This chapter exists purely because I wanted to write Ron and Hermione making out in an empty classroom.

--------------------

Chapter 20

A month later, Ron once again found himself at Hogwarts; however, this time for a good reason. It was a moment he’d been looking forward to since last September, since the moment he’d said goodbye to Hermione on Platform 9 ¾. 

After today, in just a few short hours, she would be done with Hogwarts. She would leave, and she would be coming home. 

For good. 

“I’m glad you’re so supportive of my education, Ron,” Hermione said after he’d expressed his enthusiasm of her finally being finished that morning. He and Harry had arrived early, around breakfast, to see the girls before the small ceremony began. Now, they stood in the Entrance Hall, half an hour to go, with the graduating seventh years. 

“You know I care, Hermione,” Ron said, smoothing down her robes. “But, I’m still thrilled that you’ll be finished soon. I can go back to seeing you every day.”

Hermione smiled despite herself. “I must admit, it will be good. Though, I can’t stop wondering about the NEWT results. I keep thinking about the exams and all the things I might have missed. It may affect any job —”

Ron silenced her with a kiss, to which she hastily pushed him away, very red and looking around at the snickering faces. 

“Not here, Ron,” she hissed. 

“What?” Ron asked, also looking around at the other students. “Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“No, but, this is a formal ceremony, and you’ll mess up — Ron, where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere more private, if you’re all awkward about it.” Ron dragged her to the side of the Entrance Hall and pushed open an empty classroom. It appeared to have not been used all year, instead storing extra furniture.

“Ron —”

“Shoosh,” Ron said, and he stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. 

“Ron, I appreciate —”

“This is the last time I get to kiss you as a student,” Ron said. “Let me have my moment.”

“Your moment?”

“Shut up and just kiss me, would you?”

Hermione stared up at him for a moment, looking torn between bewilderment and amusement. But eventually, a devious smile formed on her lips, and she stepped forward and engulfed him in such a passionate kiss that it took Ron by surprise. But he hesitated only for a second before drawing her tightly towards him and responding with just as much enthusiasm as she suddenly had. 

This was, Ron realised, a complete fantasy of his he may or may not have possessed for a few years now. Trapped inside an empty classroom, alone with her. There was an appeal to it, a romantic side that he was very surprised to find Hermione seemed to be enjoying as much as he was. 

He moved his hands from her face, sliding them down her arms, creasing up her robes, but he didn’t care, and it seemed, nor did she. 

Very un-Hermione-like. I like it.

His hands continued to trail down her robes, testing just how far she'd let him push it (she didn't seem to be asking him to stop anytime soon). He had just slipped underneath the hem when a blinding light had them springing apart.

"Sorry, Professor, perhaps I should have warned you —" Ginny's voice trailed into the newly opened room, clearly trying to stop herself from laughing.

Ron and Hermione looked up to find a stunned Professor McGonagall staring between them, and behind her, a highly amused Ginny who was covering her mouth with silent giggles.

"Well, I never…" McGonagall said. "Miss Granger! Of all the people, of all the times… not once did I ever expect such indignity from you." 

Despite her harsh tone, Ron could tell that McGonagall was far more amused than she was upset or angry.

Hermione, however, was very red in the face. One look at her, and Ron had to stifle his own laughter. Her hair was frizzier than usual, her robes all creased and ruffled, not to mention her flustered face that had very little to do with embarrassment at being caught. 

"S-sorry, Professor," Hermione said, taking out her wand and casting a spell to flatten her robes again. Then, regaining some of her dignity, she added, "Is it time?"

This time, McGonagall's amusement was in plain sight. Her lips curved up as she said, "Yes, Miss Granger, it is time. I'll see you in a moment." Her eyes fell on Ron. "As for you, Weasley, I strongly encourage you to join Potter across the lake when Miss Granger and Miss Weasley are no longer students. That way, you're both free to… do as you please." Giving another small smile, she turned and walked away.

The moment she was gone, Ginny roared with laughter. "Oh, come on, Hermione," she said, "don't go all embarrassed on me. That was funny."

But Hermione didn't seem to agree. She marched from the room, leaving Ron to follow in her wake. They got halfway to the Entrance Hall when he couldn't help himself either. He chuckled.

"Ron, it's not funny!" Hermione said, still very red. 

"Yes it is," he said. "Hermione Granger, the perfect student, will no longer be remembered for her record-breaking Outstandings she receives at NEWT level, but for being caught in a compromising position with her school droput boyfriend inside an abandoned classroom by the Headmistress." He chuckled again. So did Ginny.

"Oh, McGonagall is going to be so disappointed!" Hermione sighed.

"She was laughing!" Ron assured her as they reached the Hall. He placed a kiss on top of her head and then said, "Besides, what can she do? I'll see you on the other side, alright?"

Still grinning, Ron walked past the other students, some he recognised and waved to along the way. 

That, he decided, had been one of the most exhilarating moments of his life. He walked down the steps and onto the grounds, where he spotted Harry waiting for him. Ahead, McGonagall was directing students towards the lake where boats were waiting to escort everyone across for the very last time. She cast a very wary, very amused look Ron's way.

Once upon a time, Ron might have felt humiliated by it, but not being a student anymore, knowing that this would probably be the last time he'd ever set foot in these halls, he could only grin back at her. 

"What's got you looking so gleeful?" Harry asked when Ron joined him by the lake a moment later.

"Nothing," Ron said, holding back another laugh. "Though I'm sure Ginny will tell you later anyway."

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, but Ron only shook his head and said, "Come on. Otherwise we'll miss them."

Ron had never attended this small ceremony before — not even when his brothers had completed their seventh years. It wasn't too exciting, but Ron had insisted on coming to see Hermione and Ginny make their last journey from the school, across the lake in the same boats in which they had first arrived. Then, he and Harry would ride the train back to King's Cross for the very last time. 

They walked across the grounds, all the way to Hogsmeade station. There were only a few others there — a few sets of parents, some siblings and perhaps some other boyfriends and girlfriends. 

They sat down on a bench in front of the steaming, scarlet train that was currently empty. 

"I'm looking forward to riding it again," Ron said, nodding towards the Hogwarts Express. “For old time’s sake, you know? It’s a little weird to think we’re done with that part of our lives. For real, I mean. You spend so long desperately waiting for your letter —”

“Well, not for me,” Harry said. “Or Hermione.”

“Yeah, well, it was painful,” Ron continued. “Especially when you have five older brothers who all get to go before you. You think your time will never come — especially when Fred and George keep telling you you’re a Squib — and then you do get to go, and it’s over in a blink of an eye…”

“It did go very fast,” Harry admitted. “Now we’re in the real world… adults…”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “How weird.”

Steam filled the station as they sat in silence. It wasn’t broken until a parent nearby gasped and pointed. 

Ron and Harry looked up just as the seventh year students emerged onto the station, all laughing, cheering and whooping over the fact that they were done. 

Ron beamed, waving Hermione and Ginny over through the crowd. They hurried to them, Hermione throwing her arms around Ron’s neck. 

“Finally,” he said. “I can have my girlfriend back.”

“Is that all you care about?” Hermione asked lightly.

“Absolutely,” Ron said. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yes, but unfortunately on this side of Hogwarts, there’s no more classrooms,” Ginny said slyly.

“No, but there’s plenty of empty rooms at Grimmauld Place,” Ron replied quickly.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, punching him in the arm. “Stop.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Ginny and Hermione said together, Hermione not meeting Harry’s eye. She shot Ron an appalled look, to which he shrugged and grinned at her. 

Many people around them were hugging family members, and soon, the rest of the school would be arriving, ready to go home for another school year. 

“Come on,” Ginny said. “Before all the compartments fill up.” She led the way through one of the open doors on the train. Their trunks and everything would be sent down later, so they were free to wander through the carriages, searching for the perfect compartment.

“This one will do,” Ginny said after a while, sliding open the door. She sat down, the others following, and sighed. “I can’t believe it’s over. So many years of wishing to go, begging your parents to let you go early, and then… it’s over.”

“I said the same thing to Harry just before,” Ron said, laughing. He looked between Harry and Hermione. “But these two, of course, don’t understand it. They both got a letter and then a few months later they were off.”

“Lucky,” Ginny said. “As a wizarding child, it’s torture. You just want to see it for yourself. Especially when you have six older brothers who get to go before you. Though —” she looked at Ron, “— at least none of them tried telling me I was a Squib and wouldn’t get my letter.”

“Fred and George?” Hermione guessed, looking at Ron.

“Yep,” Ron said. “I believed them, too, even though I had displayed accidental magic many times. Was terrible at controlling it, though.”

“Yeah, I still remember the time you set fire to the kitchen, all because Mum dared ask you to help with dinner.” Ginny chuckled.

“Well, at least you knew what was happening,” Hermione said. “It was rather frightening when you’re really upset and all the doors to your house fly open at once, then slam closed again, and then continue flapping.”

“Or when you — what I now realise — accidentally Apparate yourself onto a roof to escape your cousin and his friends.”

“You Apparated as a kid?” Ginny asked, looking at Harry with an incredulous expression.

Harry shrugged. “Can’t think of how else I got up there.”

“Woah!” Ginny said. “That’s really cool. The best I managed before five was turning one of my toys into an animated object for five minutes. Terrified me rather than excited me.”

“I remember that!” Ron said. “You cried for hours.”

He couldn’t help but smile as they all reminisced their childhoods, Harry and Hermione having a much different experience to his and Ginny’s. It was funny how things worked out, how a mere eight years ago he’d been an eleven-year-old boy, simultaneously excited and terrified of going to Hogwarts, afraid he’d have everything to live up to and not be able to achieve any of it. 

He’d done alright, though, he thought. He would never be Charlie at Quidditch, or Head Boy like Bill had been. He’d never be as clever as Percy, or as funny as Fred and George. But, he had helped save the wizarding world. He had destroyed a Horcrux, which led to the eventual downfall of the Darkest wizard to ever exist. And, unlike the rest of his siblings, his name would be mentioned in the history books for many years to come, right beside Harry and Hermione’s. It wasn’t what he’d expected, or even hoped for, when he’d boarded this very train all those years ago, but he also wouldn’t change it for anything. 

As the train began to move from the station, the chatter of excited students echoing down the carriages, Ron couldn’t help but smile. He really had done alright in the end. And in just a few short years, he’d be a qualified Auror to boot. What more could he ask for?

…

The answer to that question came the next morning in the hallway just after he’d woken. Hermione was already out of bed, but he found her on her way back, having just finished breakfast. 

“Morning,” she said brightly. “How’d you sleep?”

“The best I’ve slept in a long time,” Ron told her truthfully, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her towards him. He kissed her deeply. "It's because I know you're here to stay," he added once he'd pulled away. 

"Well," Hermione said, wrapping her own arms around Ron, "I do have to go and see Mum and Dad at some point. Probably later today." She stood up on her tip toes and kissed him. "Want to come?"

"Sure," Ron said. "You know I visited them when you were away a few times? We've become quite tight."

Hermione smiled, nodding. "I do. They told me. They were rather pleased to see you. They've been a bit lonely, I think, especially because all of their friends thought they'd moved away and all moved on. They're trying to reconnect, but it's been hard. You made their days when you visited." She let go of his waist, her hands falling to her side. "Thank you for doing that."

Ron shrugged. "It was nothing, really. I like your mum and dad. I, er, did bring Dad with me one time. He begged me."

"Oh, they told me that too!" Hermione said, this time chuckling. "They thought he was funny, interested in the most simple things — well, simple to them."

"Yeah, he was a little excited…" Ron grinned at her. "I think his favourite thing was a toaster. He has many of them in his shed, but I think he liked seeing one in action." 

Hermione smiled, and for a moment, they stood in silence in the middle of the hall. It wasn't uncomfortable at all — quite the opposite, actually. Pleasant, nice, like they could be in each other's presence forever and not speak and be perfectly happy. 

After a moment, though, Hermione said, "Do you want some breakfast? Harry and Ginny are still in the kitchen. I was just about to shower —"

"I just want you," Ron said, and he grabbed her around the waist again, pulling her against him once more, kissing her hard on the mouth. 

Ron didn't know if she simply didn't have the ability to refuse him, or she didn't want to (he liked to think it the latter), but she responded to his mouth against hers and threw her arms around his neck to draw him even closer. 

This was what he'd missed since last September. Just seeing her in the corridor of Grimmauld Place, or waking up and finding her next to him — or knowing that she'd spent the night there at least, considering she liked to get up earlier than him. He'd longed for this part of their lives to start, because he knew there was nothing stopping them now. Whatever happened from here on in, they wouldn't be separated anymore. 

"Oh my God, is an abandoned classroom not enough for the two of you?"

Ron reluctantly pulled away from Hermione, feeling her arms unwrap from around him. They turned slowly to find a disgruntled Ginny standing on the landing, Harry behind her, still on one of the steps. 

"What?" Ron asked. 

"Well, you're spoiling my breakfast for one thing," Ginny said. "And secondly, I don't really want to come up and see —"

"Well, last time I checked, you don't actually live here," Ron said. "So mind your own business."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't live here either!" Ginny said, though she didn't sound angry or upset.

Ron frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, that if you want to do —" she gestured wildly at them, "— that, why don't you do it in your own place?"

"This is my place," Ron reminded her.

"I don't mean this place, you idiot," Ginny said as if she were speaking to a five year old. "I mean a place for just the two of you. You know, that you have together."

Ron stared at his sister, not daring to look at Hermione. The latter didn't speak — or move at all for that matter. What was Ginny on about? Was she suggesting he and Hermione move in together? He was fairly certain that was where she was going with it, but he wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Well, he did, but he doubted Hermione would want to consider such a thing so early into their relationship.

You've been together for over a year now, a little voice said to him.

Yeah, but most of that has been apart, he reasoned.

What does that matter? You know it's her forever.

Yes, but maybe she doesn't see it that way.

The silence grew, turning into something very uncomfortable. In fact, Ron grew rather irritated by Harry, who didn't seem to want to come to Ron's defence at all. He joined Ginny on the landing, nibbling on some toast, but saying nothing. Did that mean he agreed? Surely not! They'd had a great time living together in this place.

But that was before their girlfriends had finished school. And, to be fair, in the short time Hermione had been back, Ron had wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. 

"Oh, come on, you two!" Ginny huffed. "Listen, I can't kick you out, Ron, but at least if you have your own place you can dance around naked for all I care, and Harry or I don't have to worry about seeing it, because you've made it abundantly clear you can't keep your hands off one another."

Ron tensed, finally daring to look down at Hermione. He’d expected to see her blushing furiously, maybe even struggling to meet his eye, but to his surprise, she was looking thoughtfully at Ginny, as if what his sister was saying made sense. 

“Alright,” Ginny said when no one said anything. “Whatever. I just thought it would help all of us. You don’t see me and Harry —”

“And I don’t want to!” Ron interjected before she could finish that sentence. 

“And you think I want to see my brother?” Ginny asked. “I love you guys, I really do, but this is not something I think the four of us can live with. One day, someone is going to see more than kissing, and that will just be embarrassing for everyone.”

Again, Hermione didn’t seem phased by what Ginny was implying, which left Ron rather speechless. She wasn’t actually considering Ginny’s suggestion, was she? He couldn’t say he liked Grimmauld Place all that much, but he'd seen himself here for a few more years before… well, he supposed living with Hermione was where he'd hoped the next step would take him.

Ginny went back into Harry's room. Harry still said nothing, but gave an apologetic shrug as he followed her.

"So, is this what it's going to be like?" Ron scowled once they'd disappeared. "Ginny calling the shots and him just going along with it? He's supposed to back us up." Why had Harry stayed silent in the matter? Harry usually had no problem speaking his mind. The only thing Ron could think of was he wanted Ron out of the house but didn't want to say it.

"Come on," Hermione said, grabbing Ron's hand, her tone still thoughtful. "Let's get ready and we'll go and see Mum and Dad."

…

Harry swore loudly as the Exploding Snap cards exploded in front of him for the third time that night. Cursing the game, he threw his remaining cards into the pile.

“That’s me done for tonight,” he said, taking his wand out and clearing the ash and grime from his glasses. “Honestly, why am I so bad at it?”

“You’re just too slow,” Ginny said, patting his arm. “But I think I’ll stop tonight, too.” She yawned, climbing to her feet. “Night, Ron.”

“Night,” Ron said as Harry and Ginny left the living room where they’d been playing. Using his wand to collect the cards into a neat pile, he left them on the arm of the sofa and headed up to bed himself. 

Hermione had gone up earlier than the rest of them, uninterested in the game and saying she had something to do. What, Ron had no idea, but he had noticed she’d been rather quiet since Ginny’s outburst that morning.

At first, he’d thought she’d just been contemplating what his sister had said, maybe toying with the idea of whether or not she and Ron should get their own place together. But as the day had worn on, spending lunch and the afternoon with her parents, she’d gone very quiet, even asking her parents if she could look through the Muggle newspapers they collected.

Whenever he’d asked her if she was alright, she smiled, nodded, and said yes, so he’d given up asking her. 

He supposed now, though, he’d have to address the matter, because he couldn’t go to bed pretending that what Ginny had said hadn’t affected them. Ron had been able to brush it off, laugh at the idea even, but it seemed that Hermione was more bothered by it than he was.  

The old Ron might have been upset by such a reaction, but he couldn’t really blame her this time. They’d been together for a little over a year, but a whole lot of that time had been apart, and then the rest of it had been filled with grief and a high dependency on one another for comfort. Really, they’d probably only had a month, maybe two, of actually being in a proper relationship, and while they had spent almost all of those two months together, it was a completely different story actually sharing a home together. 

Not that that had happened yet, but if they ever felt the need to spend a night apart, they currently were able to do that. 

As he walked down the hall towards his bedroom, he noticed that a light was still flickering from underneath the closed door and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. If Hermione had been asleep, then he could address it in the morning. 

He’d never felt nervous opening his bedroom door knowing that she was there before. At least not since the very beginning of their relationship when he was sneaking her into his bedroom each night at the Burrow.  

“Hey!” she said cheerfully, closing the book that she’d been reading while propped up against the headboard, the gas lamp in the corner flickering brightly for her. 

“Hey,” Ron said. “I thought you might have been asleep by now.” He began to undress and change into his pyjamas. 

“No, I was waiting for you to come to bed actually,” Hermione said, and to Ron’s surprise, her voice sounded even, controlled — unlike it had earlier. 

“Right,” Ron said, unable to control his voice. “I suppose you want to talk about what Ginny said earlier.” He sat on the edge of the bed, only half dressed. “Listen, I don’t think she actually meant it. She was probably just upset about catching us, so we’ll just try to be a bit more discreet in the future. I know it’s too soon for us to be officially living together or anything.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “I know — wait —” he looked at Hermione, who was looking at him with a controlled expression that matched her voice. He stared back at her, mouth open for a moment, before regathering himself. “I… I think it’s too soon,” he said, now second guessing what she’d meant by that question. “You agree, right?”

He continued watching her, waiting for her to nod and agree. But that never came, and his chest tightened ever so slightly.

“I think Ginny had a point, actually,” Hermione said, and she set the book aside, picking up her wand in its place. A moment later, three Muggle newspapers and two editions of the Daily Prophet spread out on the bed in front of them. 

Ron looked between Hermione and the newspapers. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

“Well,” Hermione said, and for the first time since he’d come into the room, her cheeks had gone slightly pink, “I couldn’t help but think about what your sister said this morning. I know she didn’t really mean it, but she got me thinking, and as the day went on, I, um… I thought maybe we could live together.” The colour in her cheeks deepened to a red. “You know… get our own place.”

“What?” Ron asked, staring at her. “Wait, you’re serious?” he added when she said nothing.

Hermione nodded. “I am serious. I mean, let’s be honest, Ron, did either of us have plans to spend a night apart?”

The honest answer to that question was no. Hermione must have realised that because she nodded and pointed her wand at the newspapers. 

“So, we would essentially be living together anyway, just not officially. So why not make it official?”

“But —” Ron looked at the papers. “— you… you want to live with me?”

“Do you want to live with me?” Hermione asked. 

“Yes!” Ron said before his brain had a chance to contemplate a more appropriate answer. “I mean… well, yeah, I do. But I thought… I didn’t know if you’d —”

“And once again, you’re acting as if I’m not in the same place as you are in our relationship, Ron,” Hermione said, though she smiled at him. 

“Sorry.”

“I know we’ve spent a fair amount of time apart, but I love you and if we didn’t do it now, we’d probably do it in a year or so anyway.”

Ron contemplated her for a moment, fully aware of the smile playing at his mouth, and not caring one bit. “You always surprise me,” he said after a moment. 

She smiled.

“Alright, let’s do it then. If that’s what we both want.” He finished dressing and climbed fully into bed, drawing the blankets up to his waist. “Though, will you please tell me why you’ve suddenly started collecting newspapers? Is this your way of trying to tell me of your bad habits or something?”

“No,” Hermione said, “it’s me trying to find us a place.”

“Oh. In a Muggle newspaper?”

“They have sections with places to rent,” Hermione explained. “I thought it would be an option…” She shook her head. “But it was all a little complicated, even for me, so I then looked at the Prophet. There’s not much in there, but I found two small advertisements from yesterday’s and today’s editions.” She tapped both Prophets with her wand and all the words disappeared save for two miniscule ads in the middle of each one. She passed them to Ron. 

“One is in a little almost all wizard village, which looks alright, but I was more interested in the other one. It’s in Diagon Alley, which is really convenient. It’s just a little more expensive.” She looked up, some apprehension on her face at those words.

“You’re worried we couldn’t afford it?” Ron asked. He looked at the advertisement. It would cost fifteen Galleons a week for the place in Diagon Alley. The other one was only ten. 

Hermione hesitated. “Well, I know —”

“It’s alright, Hermione,” Ron said. “That isn’t too bad. Even a trainee Auror’s wage isn’t too bad.”

“I don’t have a job yet, Ron, and I won’t until after the NEWT results come in — and that’s if I get decent enough marks, of course.”

“Which you will,” Ron said. 

“Well, either way, I… it might be hard, but…”

“What are you trying to say, Hermione?” Ron asked, trying not to laugh. 

She blushed. 

“I feel really bad about this, Ron, but at least until I can get a job, you may have to —”

“Consider it done,” Ron said, closing the paper. “I’ll have us covered until then. It’s alright.”

“Ron, it’s a lot of money. I know —”

“No, it’s fine!” Ron said, grinning at her. “Honestly. I’ve never been able to be the one to pay for something for someone else. I’ve always wanted to be able to do that. And I can cover that well enough, with some gold to spare each week. Don’t worry. Besides, once you get all your Outstanding NEWTs, then we’ll be even again, alright?”

Hermione said nothing. 

“We’ll get this place,” Ron said, pointing to the Prophet with the Diagon Alley advertisement. “And, we’ll live together, and we’ll be happy. We can even throw a housewarming party once we move in. Have everyone over.”

Hermione laughed. “You’ve got it all planned out for someone who didn’t think we were ready for that step.”

Ron shrugged. “Once you get my mind on something, I discover I like it. You, for example —”

“Ron!”

“What? It’s true.” Ron shrugged, leaning across to kiss her, grinning. “Love you,” he said.

“For some reason,” Hermione said, looking at him amused, “I love you too. And I’m so excited to be living with you.”

Ron drew her towards him, kissing her forehead. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m excited too.”

And he was. He really was. 

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