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firethecanonsfanfiction · 2 years

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The Taste of Your Lips

Title: The Taste of Your Lips

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Ron and Hermione spend some time together before Harry's rescue from the Dursleys.

Warnings: Very sutble sexual references.

Challenges/Prompts: 'DH Missing Moment' trope for @romione-trope-fest

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

Reposted: N/A

The days were warm in the lead up to the plan for rescuing Harry. And they were busy.

There was so much planning to be done, from who was going to travel with who, to planting the false information with the Ministry, to the more finer details such as the Portkeys.

There was hardly any time for relaxing or thinking about anything else.

Hermione didn't mind, of course, because it was for a good cause, but her mind felt full. While others worried about getting Harry from his aunt and uncle safely, she and Ron also had the issue of the Horcruxes to worry about.

She had no idea when it'd be time to leave. Ideally after Bill and Fleur's wedding, but she wasn't taking her chances. In these times, something could happen at any moment and she was preparing for the worst.

She was packing — little things every few days. Clothes for herself and Ron — and for Harry when he got here. Books she thought they might need, a small medical kit because she wasn't expecting it to be easy, wherever it was they went.

So, in what spare time she did have, she used it to prepare for other things.

She'd just come down to the pond by the Burrow to collect some of the weed in there. She hadn't realised at first, thinking it to be just standard water weed, but her books bad alerted her to the fact that it contained a type with healing properties.

She hadn't asked, but she sure Mrs Weasley wouldn't mind if it meant it could help them along their way (though she didn't really have any intention of letting Ron's mum know what was happening anyway).

"Hey. What are you doing?"

Hermione stood up from where she was crouched by the water's edge, stuffing some of the weed into a flask. Rather than answering, she handed an empty flask to him. "Help me collect it," she said.

For a moment, Ron simply stood, staring at the object in his hand. Then he asked, "Why?"

If it had been Harry, she knew he would have just done it without any questions, but Ron always had to know why she was doing something. He was never happy by the fact that she just knew. As annoying as it was, she was actually glad. It made her rethink things and realise she'd made a mistake at times.

"The pond weed has healing powers," she explained. "I thought we might need it."

"For tomorrow?" Ron questioned as he knelt by the water and started pulling off long strands.

"And for other things."

He nodded, needing no further explanation.

For a while, they worked in silence, filling ten flasks with the weed. Then, after setting the last of them aside, Ron sat back and looked out over the water.

Hermione joined him, feeling their shoulders brush as she sat.

"Things are going to change tomorrow, aren't they?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. She didn't know if he meant the bigger picture being the fact that Harry's protective charm would be broken after tomorrow, meaning he could be more easily hunted, or the much smaller picture that Harry was going to be present again, with them.

She really did love Harry dearly, but there was a tiny — maybe rather large — part that had enjoyed her few weeks at the Burrow with Ron, alone.

Something had shifted between them in the course of the few weeks, and whilst neither of them had the time or the energy to act on it, nor did she think it was appropriate to do so in the scheme of things, she enjoyed all the possibilities of being alone with him.

There seemed to be an understanding between them now, something that had never happened before. They had worked out where they stood with each other, even if they'd never discussed it verbally. She didn't know if they'd ever discuss it in a way normal people might, but she didn't think they needed to.

Whatever was unspoken between them was enough; at least for now. When she knew it couldn't progress further than what it currently was.

Anything more would complicate their plans. Wherever this Horcrux search took them, she didn't want to worry about him along with everything else. Of course, she'd always worry about him, but it was much easier to worry about Ron, her friend, than if it was Ron, her something else.

And she was confident he understood that as clearly as she did.

"At least we have now, this peaceful moment," Ron added. "Before the chaos begins. Once Harry's here and we're all safe, you realise Mum is going to go into complete wedding mode. We'll probably be busier than we are now."

Hermione nudged him with her shoulder, smiling.

"What?" he asked, smiling back.

"At least it will be something good to be busy about."

"I didn't think you approved of Fleur."

"I am well aware that you do," Hermione retorted. She meant it as a joke, though Ron's infatuation with Fleur Delacour bothered her more than she'd care to admit. She knew that it wasn't real, and that it was probably due to the Veela in her, but it annoyed her. Whenever Fleur was around, Ron wasn't himself. He had some desire to impress her, to do anything to get her to notice him.

Then, when she wasn't around, he was his normal self again.

She hated it and wished he was better at controlling himself around her, even if it was subconscious and he didn't know what he was doing.

Ron went red at her comment. "That's… that's not true," he mumbled.

It was, but she decided not to press the matter. Instead, she said, "We're meant to have a partner for the wedding, right?"

"I don't think so," Ron answered, frowning. He suddenly looked worried. "Are we?"

No, probably not, you clueless — adorable — idiot.

She sighed. Apparently she wasn't very good at making her intentions clear. She'd made that mistake last year when she'd not clearly stated she wanted him to be her date to Slughorn's party.

"Well, we can solve that problem by going together, can't we?"

It didn't take him long to understand. "Oh, I suppose that does solve the problem."

She caught a smile from the side of his mouth and felt pleased. Sure, nothing serious could happen between them, but one night wouldn't hurt, would it? It was a wedding, after all, a celebration of love.

Their hands were resting on the long grass, almost touching, but not quite. A year ago, she wouldn't have had the courage to do what she did now — but a year ago, she wasn't certain of her own feelings, let alone his.

But now she was, even if they hadn't spoken of them, so she moved her hand and covered his.

If he was surprised by the gesture, he didn't show it. Instead, he laced their fingers together and said nothing.

They both sat there grinning like idiots, the happiest maybe either of them had felt in weeks.

After a moment, he asked, "So, just to be clear, you want to be my date to my brother's wedding?"

"Unless you've arranged with someone else…"

"No, I haven't!"

"Then, yes. If that's okay with you."

"It's more than okay!" His reply came out quick and breathless, and he seemed to realise what he'd said, because he withdrew his hand and was now a very deep red. "I mean…"

He was trying so hard and she didn't think he realised that with every gesture, every little thing he said or did, won her over just a little bit more.

"Is this pond good for swimming in?" she asked quickly to save him the embarrassment she realised had encompassed him.

"What?" He blinked.

"Can you swim in it?"

"I… I guess you can."

"Why don't we swim, then? It's a nice enough day. The sun is shining…"

His eyes widened.

"Come on!" Hermione said. "What's the harm?"

"I've got my clothes on!" he protested as Hermione climbed to her feet. She tugged on his hand, dragging him up too.

"Would you rather be naked?" she asked.

His whole face had turned a bright red. "That's… that's not what I meant!"

"Come on, jump in the water!" She gave him a little nudge, but he was bigger than her and resisted easily enough.

"I'm not!" he argued, seeming to understand that this was a game. He now smiled. "Not unless you come with me!" He spun, his hand gripping around hers. And because he was bigger than her, he was able to pull her into the pond.

Hermione felt herself go under, felt something tickle her face, and then when she reached the surface, blinked and found a very wet Ron grinning at her.

"I wasn't ready!" she cried, splashing him with the water. It really wasn't very clean or clear, and yet she had never felt more refreshed. What was magic for if she couldn't enjoy a moment or two like this with her… friend?

"Are you a good swimmer?" Ron asked after a moment.

"I'm alright, why?"

"Because I grew up learning to swim because I had to race against my brothers. Do you think you can beat me to the end?"

Before she had a chance to respond, he took off across the pond, leaving Hermione to go after him. He beat her by a mile, being longer and having a head start.

"I thought you were supposed to be good at things," he teased.

"You cheated!" She splashed him with her hands, and he splashed back. For a while, they kept at it, getting into some battle that had them laughing and giggling. Their worries from the day, for tomorrow, were gone, at least for the moment.

When it died down, when they were both breathing heavily, Ron moved forward so suddenly it took her by surprise. She braced herself, almost anticipating him to kiss her, but then he reached out his arm and pulled a long strand of the pond weed from her hair.

"You're a mess," he said, stepping back again and leaving Hermione alone with her thudding heart.

"And you're not?" she retorted, feeling goosebumps rise up on her skin that had nothing to do with the air or water.

"At least I don't get weed in my hair." He came closer to her again, pulling out more of the stuff that had tangled itself into her hair. She didn't move, but let him do it, because despite her wild fantasies that sometimes came to her, this was the probably the closest she was going to get to having his fingers running through it.

After a moment, he laughed.

She jumped back, looking up at him. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing." He smiled down at her. "We should probably get out now before we get too cold. Or Mum sends someone in search of us for shirking our duties."

"I need to clean up," Hermione confessed, and they began a gentle swim back to the edge. When they climbed out, they both laid against the long grass. Side by side, their arms almost touching.

Ron rolled onto his side and propped himself onto his elbow. She turned her head to find him watching her.

"What?" she asked warily.

"I like this," he said.

"Swimming?"

"Being with you."

She smiled, looking him in the eye despite the urge to look away. "I like it too."

They continued to look at each other, and although it had never happened to her before, she could sense that maybe in a moment they would kiss. She wanted to kiss him, even if the logical part of her brain screamed at her that if she went there then she couldn't come back. If she gave in, then she'd break all the barriers she'd put up to protect both of them from any further worry. At the same time, she needed his comfort right now more than ever.

She felt more than saw the shift — he was already close enough to her, but his head lowered towards hers. The arm that he wasn't using to hold himself up moved around her waist, firm, yet soft at the same time. He'd never touched her like that before and she loved the way his hand felt on her.

His lips were so close now she could hear his rapid, excited breathing. She closed her eyes, feeling his arm tighten around her, embracing for the impact.

And it never came.

"Sorry to interrupt this cozy catch up."

Hermione opened her eyes, a wave of disappointment washing over her. They'd been so close. Seconds away from it and then Fred had just had to show up.

Hermione and Ron both sat up, turning to Ron's brother who was smiling brightly at both of them.

"So, whatcha both doing?" he asked cheerfully.

"What do you want?" Ron snapped, his face red once more.

"To let you know that Mum is looking for you. She's got jobs for you both. If you'd rather I tell her you're otherwise occupied… I can. But then she'd want to know just what was more important than ensuring Harry's safety, so I'd have to explain my version of events…"

Ron scowled, scrambling to his feet and looking very put out by the interruption. "You keep your mouth shut," he said.

"At what price?" Fred asked with a wide grin.

Ron seemed to contemplate Fred's words, but then shook his head. "You just keep your mouth shut and we'll all be happy."

Fred didn't answer, but continued to look at both of them knowingly, causing Hermione to blush. This was the reason she hadn't wanted to start anything. Not because Fred caught them, but because if he told Mrs Weasley then she'd be furious that they were having fun when Harry's life depended on them. And then she'd do everything in her power to keep them apart.

"Well, I can't make any promises," Fred said. "But you two better get cleaned up and do everything Mum tells you."

They both nodded and began making their way back to the Burrow without speaking.

Though, Hermione did sneak a glance Ron's way, discovering that he was watching her too.

Despite herself, she smiled, and he smiled back. She was disappointed nothing had happened, but at the same time she was relieved. Kissing Ron would have completely taken her focus away from what was important — she probably would have wanted to do it again. And she — they — needed to stay focused; on Harry and the job Dumbledore had given them.

If they got through this and came out alive, then, maybe things would be different if he still wanted it to be.

Until then, she was happy with the way the day's events had played out and she would remember what the edge of his lips had felt like against hers until she got to do the real thing.

#romione #romione fanfiction #romione trope fest #trope #missing moment

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 2 years

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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

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 2 years

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Dancing For Life

Title: Dancing For Life

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Ron and Hermione’s first wedding dance. Written for mina-roman as part of a Discord Romione Secret Santa.

Warnings: None

Originally published: January 14, 2022 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

The music was slow, welcoming… romantic. It lulled softly across the room, filling the ears of all the guests.

Ron smiled, drawing Hermione towards him.

Hermione.

His wife.

The love of his absolute life.

His wife.

“I love you,” he whispered, placing his hands around her waist, pulling her even closer so that her whole body was pressed against his.

“I love you too,” she answered, her arms around his neck.

All eyes were on them, and for once, he didn’t care. He wasn’t embarrassed, wasn’t uncomfortable.

Just… in love.

So in love he felt that his heart could burst from his chest and just latch onto Hermione and never let go. Because he wanted to keep loving her. For a hundred more years if he could. For a lifetime.

The music continued, and now that they were holding each other, and they began to sway to the music. Neither of them were dancers, but that didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point.

“You look so beautiful,” he said to her. “The moment I laid eyes on you, I couldn’t really believe my luck.”

She flashed him a smile that was so incredibly bright he had to blink to see her clearly. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Ron leaned down and kissed her, breathing her in. He revelled in her soft lips against his, and her sweet scent of perfume. Her fingers pressed against his neck, the type of pressure that was comforting and warming, but not in a way that she might have done if they’d been alone.

His family, her family, all their closest friends, they were all there. All watching.

He pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed to hers for another moment before lifting his head once more.

“I can’t believe we’re married,” Hermione said. “Finally.”

Finally.

It was the right word, because while the planning itself hadn’t taken that long, it felt as if them being married was long overdue. Maybe they should have done it years ago, when they were young and stupidly in love. They almost had, but at the last minute thought better of it.

When he’d asked her to marry him, back when they had just turned twenty, they’d been so thrilled that they’d thought, ‘why not?’ and even gone as far as to show up to one of those Muggle places that did instant weddings.

But it hadn’t felt right, it was too impersonal, and two years later he’d asked her again.

This time it had been more than right.

“The wait was so worth it,” Ron told her. “Every moment with you is worth it.”

She melted into him, the music flowing through his body as if it were part of them. Tonight, he felt as one. With her, the music, the room.

Everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect.

“And every moment with you is worth it,” she answered, her voice audible to only his ears. “Remember that.”

They continued to dance, their feet moving along the floor. Others now joined them, partners, siblings, whoever the guests could find to dance with them.

They hardly noticed. Their eyes were only for each other.

“I don’t want this song to end,” Ron told her. “I want to dance with you all night.”

“You can dance with me forever, if you want.”

“Your feet will tire.”

“No they won’t.” Hermione said it with such sincerity that Ron felt as if she actually meant it. That she would be just as happy to stay here, in this moment, with him, as he would be with her.

He chuckled lightly. “Even if they did, I’d carry you.”

“I know you would.”

The music slowed, and it really was ending now. Their first dance as husband and wife, but the first of many more, he was certain.

“This is the best night of my life,” he said to her as the music finished. Everyone else pulled away, but not Ron and Hermione. They merely held each other even tighter than before, foreheads pressed together, lips all but together.

“Mine too,” Hermione whispered back, and as another song started up, the beat a little faster than before, they continued to sway slowly.

In time.

Together.

Finally, they were on the same page. It had taken them so long to get there, many broken hearts, many fights, but none of that mattered now that they were here together.

Finally.

As their lips crashed against one another’s again, revelling in the love and happiness they had for each other, Ron knew that both of them wished that they really could stay here forever in each other’s arms.

He wanted to keep dancing with her.

For the rest of his life.

#romione #ron and hermione #romione fanfiction #fanfiction #hp fanfiction #fanfic #hp fanfic

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 2 years

Text

A Perfect Night

Title: A Perfect Night

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Hermione asks Ron to Slughorn's Christmas party and things go... well.

Prompts: For @romioneweek (late entry) for day 6 prompt - alternate universe.

Warnings: None

Originally published: Noember 21, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, looking herself over. There was a bit of hair that just wouldn’t sit still on top of her head. She’d tried a potion and various spells, but it just wanted to be uncooperative this evening.

“Of all days,” she muttered, adding another drop of Sleekeazy to no avail. It simply sprung back up.

The rest of her, she thought, looked alright. She didn’t have many dresses, especially not at Hogwarts, but she’d had her mum send this one with a very quizzical letter about what she wanted to wear it for. It was pale blue, knee-length and kind of low-cut, but modest at the same time. It wasn’t usually something she’d be comfortable in, but… drastic times, she reasoned.

She took one last look at herself, tried to flatten that one piece of disobedient hair, and then left her room. She paused at the top of the staircase a moment before willing herself to descend and enter the common room of Gryffindor tower, her heart thumping in her chest.

She stopped at the bottom, searching the room but couldn’t see either Ron or Harry there. Though, she was drawing the attention of some others, most notably Cormac McLaggen, who smiled at her.

Flushing, she hurried over to the armchairs by the fireplace and stared directly at it. She had been certain Harry and Ron would be down here already. After all, how long would it take them to throw on some dress robes?

She only had to wait for a few minutes before she heard Ron’s voice, wondering aloud where she was. She jumped up, turning to face them. Ron stopped dead in the middle of the common room, his mouth falling open when he laid eyes on her.

It might have been her imagination, but she even thought she saw him mouth the word woah, though he didn’t say it out loud.

“Hermione,” he said instead. “You look… really nice.”

Hermione smiled, the pounding in her chest increasing. “Thanks,” she said. She looked around the room. People were staring and it caused her to feel embarrassed. “Should we… should we go, then?” she asked.

Ron nodded.

“Yeah. I said I’d meet Luna there.”

Hermione startled, turning to Harry. She’d all but forgotten he was there for a moment. She offered him a smile and nod and the three of them climbed out of the portrait hole and set off to Slughorn’s office.

None of them spoke much on the way. Hermione had not felt this nervous in a very long time, and she could sense Ron stealing occasional glances her way, though he didn’t say anything. Harry, she realised, was probably doing his best to ignore the fact that she’d asked Ron as her date for the party and that they were all well aware of the fact that she hadn’t asked him to go with her as her friend. She probably would have dressed more appropriately if she had.

It was a relief to draw nearer to the office, for on the way they ran into more and more people and it became noisier, easing the tension between the three of them. Beside her, Hermione felt Ron relax and she chanced a look in his direction. She hadn’t realised before, but he was nervous too. Though, he’d really dressed for the occasion, apparently with different dress robes than the ones he’d been forced to wear to the Yule Ball two years ago.

She hid a smile. She wasn’t sure exactly what she expected to come from tonight, but this was the best chance she — they — had to talk about things and that was what she wanted to happen. Maybe talking would lead to… something more.

“Ah, Harry, Harry!” Slughorn said brightly, opening the door before they’d even approached. “And Miss Granger! So good to see you here. Thank you for coming. Oh, and Miss Granger, you brought a friend!” His eyes fell on Ron, who shifted uncomfortably. “And what about you, Harry?” Slughorn continued, looking back to Harry. “Did you bring anyone special?”

“Yes!” Harry answered, sounding exasperated. “Luna. Luna Lovegood. Is she here?”

“Oh, the girl with the radish earrings?” Slughorn asked, chuckling. “Yes, yes, already in there.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and then stepped aside so they could enter.

The first thing Hermione noticed was how Slughorn had on display photos of all his past — successful — students. In fact — her eyes widened — he even had some of them here in person.

“Look!” she said, gripping Ron’s arm and pointing to a woman in the corner who was talking to Ginny, “that’s Gwenog Jones.”

Ron stared at her incredulously. “How do you know who Gwenog Jones is?”

“I read about her in a book,” Hermione said. “One day when I was —” She stopped, noticing the amused look he was giving her, and turned red.

Ron’s gaze then shifted back to Ginny and Gwenog. “I’ve never really been in the presence of an actual Quidditch player before!”

“What about Viktor?” Hermione said, realising too late that that was the wrong thing to say to Ron. He took… issue with her friendship with Viktor Krum and it was easier to just not talk about it when around Ron.

Turning red — with anger or embarrassment, Hermione wasn’t sure — Ron said, “Er, I’ll just go and get a drink. It looks interesting, whatever it is. Want one? Harry?”

No answer came. They turned. Harry had made his way across the room over to Luna without either of them realising. He seemed desperate to avoid speaking to Slughorn, or, Hermione noticed, to not have Ginny notice him.

Hermione smiled up at Ron. “Come on, we’ll go over together.”

“You don’t think Harry fancies Luna, do you?” Ron asked when they reached the drinks table. “He just asked her as a friend, right? I mean, because he couldn’t find anyone else?”

“Would it bother you if he did?” Hermione questioned, scooping up some kind of punch into two cups.

“No, I s’pose not,” Ron answered. “But… it’s Luna. Just seems strange.”

“I don’t think he fancies Luna,” Hermione said after a moment. “He likes her well enough, but he’s not interested in her. She’s just here as his guest. His friend.”

“Like you and me,” Ron said, though he didn’t quite meet her eye when he said it.

Hermione didn’t knowhow to respond so she passed Ron one of the filled cups and said, “Yeah, like you and me.”

...

Harry seemed to be the centre of attention at this party, everyone hovering around to get a glimpse or to engage him in a conversation, which left Hermione and Ron pretty much to their own devices.

It was an interesting party to say the least. It was just people bragging about their achievements and eating lots of food.

“Is there a point of us actually being here?” Ron asked after they’d just watched the third person in the space of five minutes steer Harry towards them. “I mean, you were invited and you’re being ignored, so what chance do I have?”

“You were invited too,” Hermione said. “By me.”

“You know what I mean…”

“It is quite boring,” Hermione reasoned, feeling disappointed. She’d expected a bit more from tonight. Maybe dancing, maybe an opportunity for her to tell Ron that she fancied him, that she didn’t want them to be here as just friends. But the opportunity hadn’t shown itself the whole time and now they were both standing in a corner, their third cups of some horrid tasting punch in their hands, feeling bored.

“I suppose we shouldn’t have expected much from Slughorn.” Ron smirked. “And I do kind of feel sorry for Harry, being dragged around like that and all.”

“Do you really?” Hermione asked.

“I did say ‘kind of’.”

Hermione looked around the room once more, taking in the people. There was Luna sitting on her own, having not interacted with anyone at all because Harry had been dragged around. Hermione briefly considered going over there, but she was almost ashamed to admit that she had other motives tonight that didn’t include Luna. Ginny and Dean were snogging elsewhere and she was grateful for Harry being distracted so he didn’t see it. Everyone else she either didn’t know, knew of, or simply didn’t care to talk to.

“Why don’t we go?” she suggested.

“Please,” Ron said. “I was actually sort of annoyed that I wasn’t invited, but now I’m almost grateful he didn’t bother to ask me.” They left the noisy, crowded room and stepped into the cool, quiet corridor where Hermione was well aware of them being alone. Anyone who wasn’t at the party was in their common rooms.

“Thanks for coming,” Hermione said softly. “I’m sorry it wasn’t the party we might have hoped for.”

“It was exactly what I thought it’d be,” Ron said, laughing. “Everyone trying to talk themselves up and Slughorn bragging about how he was responsible for everyone’s success.”

Hermione laughed too, knowing that she was quickly running out of time. She’d spent weeks talking herself up for this, convincing herself that she had to put herself out there or she was constantly going to be left wondering. He fancied her in some way, she was convinced of that much, and she thought it was a risk worth taking to find out just how far he was willing to take things with her.

“Why don’t we take a detour?” she suggested, touching his arm and steering him down the opposite corridor to the way back to the common room.

“Hermione, that’s against the rules!” Ron protested. “Are you breaking the rules?”

“We’re prefects, no one will ask.”

“So now you’re abusing your power?”

Despite his verbal protests, Ron didn’t put up too much of a fight as she led him up one of the staircases.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic. If we get caught by Filch I’m blaming it all on you, Hermione. Dragging me around the castle after hours.”

Hermione ignored him, continuing up the staircases. They grew higher and higher, Ron complaining every time she decided to move up just one more. Eventually, she stopped.

Ron stood beside her, looking around. “The Astronomy Tower,” he muttered.

“It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?” Hermione said, going over to stand by the railing that overlooked the whole castle grounds. “Especially at night.”

Footsteps followed behind her and a moment later, Ron was beside her again. “I guess,” he said. “Beats the Christmas party, anyway.” He smiled. “Why’d you come up here?”

“Because it’s peaceful,” Hermione explained. “Did you know it’s where a lot of… couples come to when they want some time alone?”

“Great,” Ron said. “So, who’re you sneaking up here with late at night to know that?”

“Just you.” She tried to sound casual, though she couldn’t control the small question that escaped in the words.

It was enough to pique his interest. His head snapped to her, eyes wide under the cloudy night. She only realised that it was impossibly cold up here now. Perhaps she should have chosen somewhere that was warmer.

A moment later, he returned his gaze to the front, apparently lost on how to respond.

Hermione shivered. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she confessed. “I’m not really dressed appropriately for this weather.” I’m not really dressed appropriately at all, she reasoned.

“You’re cold?” Ron questioned, looking back at her.

Hermione nodded.

“Come on,” Ron said. “Let’s go back to the common room. Sit by the fireplace until Harry gets back…”

“Sorry, Ron,” Hermione said, and they came back indoors to the warmth of the castle. “I thought it would be nice up here. Didn’t really think it through.”

“It’s alright,” Ron replied. “Why’d you come up here anyway?”

“Well, the party wasn’t fun,” Hermione answered, “but I wasn’t quite ready for our night together to end.”

Ron stopped walking. Hermione was a few paces ahead and had to backtrack.

“Why do you keep saying stuff like that?” he asked. “First, you tell me this is the place people come up to snog and when I ask who you’re sneaking up here, you say just me. And now you say that you don’t want our night together to end. Like… like we’re on a… date or something.”

“We did go to the Christmas party together, didn’t we?” Hermione said in response. “I mean, I asked you to the party. So, it was kind of a date, wasn’t it? Isn’t it?”

“I… I guess,” Ron stammered. He was watching her with a strange expression, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this conversation. “I… just thought… you know… I didn’t realise.”

“Realise what?” Hermione asked.

Ron turned red. “That… this was a… date.”

“What did you think it was?” She wondered if she should have been clearer… more direct about asking him. She supposed she hadn’t actually used the word ‘date’.

Ron looked at the floor between them. “That you felt sorry for me that I wasn’t originally invited. I just thought… that’s why you asked me.”

Hermione opened her mouth to deny it, but when she tried to explain, no words came out. She simply stepped closer to him. “That’s not why I asked you,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t know that.” He looked up again, his eyes taking her in as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Well, now you do,” Hermione said. “This is a date. If you want it to be, that is.”

“I want it to be,” Ron answered immediately. He flushed, averting his gaze once again. “You… you really do look great, by the way. I wasn’t just saying that before. I thought… think you look… beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ron,” Hermione said. “I like your new robes. They suit you.”

He laughed slightly. “Thanks.”

“Ron… just so you’re aware, I wanted to ask you. I wanted you to be my date, and I wanted us to be here now, alone. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I misunderstood, maybe I just hoped, but I thought that you wanted to as well.”

“I do.” Again, he spoke quickly, as if the words were tumbling out of his mouth beyond his control. His face turned a deeper red. "I just didn't know…"

The sound of the clock rang in the background. It was midnight.

"Maybe we should go back…" Hermione said. "It's been nice. Fun, despite a lousy party."

"Yeah," Ron replied. "It's been really nice. I had a lot of fun with you. It was a nice… date." He smiled as he said the word.

"Nice enough to want to do it again?" Hermione wondered.

"To do it ten more times!" Ron replied. Now that they'd established what this was, he seemed to fill with more confidence by the second. He once again looked over his shoulder to the Astronomy Tower. "Do people really come up here to snog? I thought that was just a rumour."

"So I've heard." She didn't mention it was Ginny who had told her.

"Ah." Ron thought for a moment, perhaps wanting to say something more on the subject but thinking better of it. "So… should we call it a night then? Is that… is that how it's supposed to end? This date, I mean? We go back to the common room and go to bed and… that's it? Until next time?"

Hermione stepped forward again. Their bodies were virtually pressed together. She felt Ron's intake of breath more than heard it. He wasn't really getting it, so perhaps she needed to be a little more forward about how she intended for this date to end.

She tilted her head and lifted her arms to slide them around his neck. He'd seemed a bit clueless, but even he couldn't deny just exactly what she was trying to do now. Nor did he hesitate in drawing his mouth the rest of the way down to hers, capturing her in what was a very enjoyable first kiss.

He gripped her waist tightly, then slid his hands up to her back. She pressed her body into his, the feeling of finally getting to kiss him both a thrill and something she didn't want to rush. Or to end.

Anyone could walk by, she realised. A teacher, other students on their own way up to the Astronomy Tower, but who cared? A detention almost felt worth it.

It was Ron who broke away first, slowly, gently. His hands stayed around her back, holding her close to him. Their foreheads were virtually touching, their breathing heavy and loud in the silent night.

After another moment of just standing there, his hands started to slide away from her. She stood on her toes, kissing him quickly one more time before they completely pulled apart.

Now that she could see him fully, she saw that he was pleased. Perhaps he hadn't expected the night to end like this, but he certainly wasn't complaining that it had.

"That's a good ending to our date," Hermione said softly.

"... Yeah." He almost laughed, grinning. "Yeah, that was good. Maybe even better." He watched her, looking as if he could kiss her again. She stepped forward again, and he did kiss her and it was even better than the first time. Just that little bit of practice on both their parts made it easier. Their nerves were gone now, so there was nothing stopping them.

"I'd love it if tonight didn't end," Ron said after they broke away for the second time. "If we could just freeze time…"

Hermione slipped her hand into his and they started walking, hand in hand and in an enjoyable silence.

As they walked, she smiled. This, she decided, had been the perfect night.

It wasn't until they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady did Ron speak again.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

"What?" Hermione asked.

He flushed. "Next Hogsmeade visit. Can you… come with me? On a… date?"

"Yes," Hermione said, beaming up at him. "I'd really love to."

He returned her grin as he stopped in front of the portrait, and he leaned forward and kissed her for the third time that night.

----

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Dangerous

Title: Dangerous

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Originally the first in a collection of 26 drabbles with a prompt from every letter of the alphabet.

Prompts: (D) Danger

Warnings: N/A

Originally published: Between July 15, 2012 and August 9, 2012 on Fanfiction.net (collection completed August 9, 2012)

Reposted: October 4, 2021 to Fanfiction.net and ao3 and Tumblr

She knew it wasn’t good when he tried to ask her to the Yule Ball and she had already said yes to Krum.

She knew it was unwise to lay awake at night thinking about him; wondering if he was thinking of her too.

It scared her when she opened his gift and found that he had given her perfume. It scared her even more that she was actually pleased that he had been the one to give it to her.

It terrified her that she hurt so much whenever she saw him kissing another girl. It terrified her that she cared enough to be hurt.

She hated that he meant so much to her, that she had almost left her best friend to go with him that night.

She despised that he had come back and she couldn’t be angry with him for hurting her. Not really. She was just glad that he was okay and that he was with her again.

But most of all, she knew how dangerous it was to love him as much as she did. It was dangerous to love anyone like that. Her judgement was clouded, everything else important to her, forgotten.

Because when he held her in his arms – when he was near – she felt safe. She loved nothing or no one else.

And that was the dangerous.

---

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

Text

A Lot To Consider

Title: A Lot To Consider

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Originally the first in a collection of 26 drabbles with a prompt from every letter of the alphabet.

Prompts: (C) Consider

Warnings: 6th year angst

Originally published: Between July 15, 2012 and August 9, 2012 on Fanfiction.net (collection completed August 9, 2012)

Reposted: August 8, 2021 to Fanficion.net and ao3 and Tumblr

“She’s gone already.”

Ron looked over to his favourite armchair by the fireplace. Ginny had now occupied it with a copy of the Daily Prophet in her lap. She didn’t even look up. “Who?”

“Hermione. She’s left already.”

Ron sighed. That was the third time that week Hermione had left for prefect duty without waiting for him. She really was mad.

He climbed through the portrait hole and made his way along the dark corridor. They were supposed to be taking care of the fourth floor, so he went in that direction. It wasn’t until he turned a corner that he heard crying from a deserted classroom. He carefully opened the door, knowing that cry anywhere. Hermione had her back against the stone wall, her knees drawn close to her chest.

She looked up, realised it was him and then turned away. He saw her try to hide her tears, but there was no point. He had already seen them.

Ron came over to her, kneeling beside her. “Er... are you okay?” he asked uncertainly.

“I’m fine,” Hermione answered, wiping away more tears.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Nice of you to notice.” Her tone was icy. “You probably shouldn’t let Lavender catch us here – wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea?”

“She’s asleep.” Ron picked up his friend’s hand and squeezed it. If Lavender had a problem with it, then that was her problem.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears he knew he had caused. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry. He had done enough of that over the years. He just didn’t know how to go about stopping it. Lavender was easy – she only wanted to do one thing. Hermione, however... he just didn’t know how to make her happy, yet that was all he wanted to do.

Their eyes met. She was even pretty when she was upset. Her hands flinched in his, but she didn’t remove them. Their lips drew closer together. This was really going to be it, wasn’t it? The moment every part of him burned for.

He braced himself. It was really going to happen. He was going to kiss her.

Their faces were only inches apart and Hermione turned away. Ron tried to hide his disappointment.

“If you want that, Ron, end it with Lavender.” She got to her feet. “We should probably actually do what we’re supposed to be doing.” And without another word, she swung the door open, leaving Ron standing – mouth half open in shock – in the empty classroom.

He wanted it, but just like he didn’t know how to start things with Hermione, he had zero clue how to end things with Lavender.

OOO

Ginny was still in the same spot when they came back to the classroom. Hermione acknowledged neither of them, instead, taking herself straight up to bed. Ron came to sit with his sister again.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Why is she so upset then?”

Ron didn’t answer.

Ginny got to her feet angrily. “If you’re not going to do anything about it, Ron, you don’t deserve her. Goodnight.” She disappeared in the same direction as Hermione.

Ron sunk low into the armchair. Ginny’s words had left a lot for him to consider. Did he deserve her?

No, he didn’t. The question was – how was he going to go about changing that?

----

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Just One Night

Title: Just One Night

Pairings/Characters: Ron&Ginny siblingness, side Romione

Summary: Ron and Ginny have a moment at Bill and Fleur’s wedding

Prompts: For @chudleycanonficfest

Warnings: None

Originally published: August 24, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

For the briefest of moments, as her lips grazed his cheek when the song ended, he considered kissing her.

But the moment passed just as quickly as the question had come. She stepped away with flushed cheeks, but smiling.

"That was fun," she said breathlessly. "But I don't think I can dance anymore. My feet… they're so sore. Thanks, Ron."

"No problem," Ron replied, feeling the rush of his emotions begin to subside now that she was no longer touching him. "I'm a bit tired myself… er… do you want me to get some Butterbeers? Go find Harry and I'll bring some over."

Hermione beamed and nodded. "That would be great."

Before anymore could be said, she disappeared into the crowd.

For a moment, Ron stood amongst the dancing crowd and closed his eyes, relishing in the time they'd just spent together. It had been thrilling, exciting, and he dared not think about what could have happened had they continued to dance.

He touched the place where her lips had touched his cheek. The spot tingled, and it was a good feeling. And they'd been so close… so…

I should have done something, he thought admonishingly to himself as he went to where the drinks were being kept. It had been the perfect opportunity. He'd had her in his arms, they'd been dancing, with their bodies so close… there'd been something there, he hadn't imagined it.

He shook his head.

It was too late now. The moment had gone, she was gone…

He grabbed three Butterbeer bottles and was on his way to find Hermione and Harry when something stopped him. In the briefest of moments, his already fragile heart had crumbled before him. It shouldn't have, because they weren't actually doing anything, but…

Krum. She was talking to Krum and she was smiling. She looked so happy.

She smiled with you, too, he reminded himself, though it wasn't much comfort. Ron might have been able to make her smile, but he didn't have the fame or the money or the popularity to go along with it. Making her smile was the only thing he had.

The familiar pang of jealousy hit him — swirling around him, engulfing him. He had no right to feel as he did, for she was free to choose who she wanted. But he wanted it to be him — he wanted it so much that the reality of the situation was near unbearable.

He loved her. He'd known for a while, working through the confusing, yet exhilarating, feelings it brought him.

He loved her...

"I have no idea why he got invited."

Ron startled, surprised to see Ginny standing beside him. Her eyes were also on Hermione and Krum.

Ron didn't say anything. He looked at the three bottles in his hand. "Yeah, well… I've got to go and give these to…"

He made to leave, but Ginny said, "You're better, you know?"

Ron paused, turning back to face her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny nodded towards Krum. "You're better than him. For her, I mean."

Ron felt his face flush, but he refused to look back over at Hermione and Krum. He watched his sister for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. The look on her face told him that she was.

For the first time ever, he decided to be honest with her. "In what way?" he asked quietly.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know… I'm just repeating what she told me. He's just a friend — she said she's not the slightest bit interested in him in that way. Her words, not mine."

Ron swallowed. When had the room gotten so warm? "She said that?"

Ginny nodded. "She picks you. She won't tell you, because of everything that's going on — you know, all your secret plans and all — but… it's you, Ron."

Ron finally found the courage to look back over. Hermione wasn't anywhere in sight, but he spotted Krum skulking the edges of the tent, watching everyone with his usual deadpan expression. He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked after a moment. It wasn't like his sister to be this nice, but he couldn't sense any mockery in her voice.

Ginny smiled. "Because it's a wedding, a celebration of love, and the pair of you love each other, but you're too stupid to do anything about it. Besides, I couldn't bear the look of self-pity when you saw them talking just a moment ago."

"I wasn't —" He stopped. Who was he kidding? He had been self-pitying.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, though she was being overly nice to him tonight so it didn’t last long. “Listen, I just thought you should know that you don’t have anything to worry about… about Krum. He’s… he’s not in the way. Not for her.”

Ron cast his eyes around the tent again, and through a gap in the dancers, he saw Hermione at one of the tables with Harry. She was still flushed in the face, smiling widely, and just looking happy to be where she was. She had spent a lot of time crying over the past weeks — over her parents mostly — so to see her smile warmed him.

At the end of the school year, he’d thought that maybe something could happen. He’d been hopeful that it would, even taking the time to read the book Fred and George had gotten him. And the time together before Harry arrived, even the time after, tonight… it had filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite grasp.

There had been something there tonight. It hadn’t just been two friends dancing. It had been… something more. Maybe, had they let things go longer, it might have ended with them sharing a kiss.

But all it had taken was seeing her with Krum — someone better at Quidditch than him, someone more famous than he’d ever be, and someone with more money than Ron could ever dream of — and all that hope had gone out in an instant.

Now, Ginny was telling him something completely different to what his mind had imagined —

“There's no better time to do it than at a wedding," Ginny said, almost reading his thoughts.

Ron nodded, though he didn't make to move anywhere. Despite it all — despite wanting to — in a few short days they would be leaving, going to who knew where, and he knew that until they found and destroyed all of the Horcruxes then there'd be no time for romance. So what was the point?

Just one night, he found himself thinking. Just tonight, it can be good.

Still clutching the Butterbeers, he moved forward, keeping his eyes on her, repeating in his head what he might say. Maybe he'd take her from the tent, have some privacy, at least see what she'd have to say.

But he was only halfway there when the Patronus arrived. Kingsley, telling them the Ministry had fallen.

Panicked ensued after that, and Ron was thrown to the side as people made desperate attempts to escape what they all now knew to be an attack.

He felt the Butterbeer bottles slip from his hands and spill over his shoes. He ignored it, pushing through the panic.

Hermione was his only thought. He'd lost sight of her and Harry in the mess, but somewhere, somehow, he thought he could hear her… calling his name.

He followed it, and a moment later he saw them. He saw the relief on both of his friends' faces, not just Hermione's.

And then Hermione Disapparated them, sucking them into a void away from the danger. After that, any hope of the night ending well — of just enjoying one night with her — was erased.

Now they had to find Horcruxes.

----

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#weasleys #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #hp fanfiction #ron & ginny #romione #deathly hallows fanfiction

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Love Pandemic

Title: Love Pandemic

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione, Lavender, Paravti

Summary: A disease is sweeping through Hogwarts. Students are falling in love here, there and everywhere, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Not even one very cynical Hermione Granger.

Prompts: For QLFC - you don’t know who your soulmate is until you touch them

Warnings/Notes: AU, but canon compliant components for HBP. PS. I quite like Lavender and Parvati, but I am trying to capture their personalities from Hermione’s ‘no-nonsense’ POV. Mentions of disease and pandemic in a non-realistic meaning.

Originally published: August 15, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

Hermione barely managed to suppress her scoff as the giggles and whispers from the breakfast table floated into her ears. Lavender and Parvati, the school’s seasoned gossips, were talking about unconfirmed rumours again.

This time it was Justin Finch-Fletchey, who had apparently become another victim of this month’s soulmate pandemic.

It was all anyone was talking about these days — it was contagious if what Lavender and Parvati said was true. Romances were popping up all over, and it couldn’t possibly have been because everyone their age was developing hormones. No. It had to be some totally unrealistic things that — even in the wizarding world — could not be possible.

How daft was everyone to believe such nonsense? So what? Justin had apparently gotten himself a boyfriend with someone in seventh year. Just yesterday Dean Thomas had been seen snogging Seamus Finnigan. That didn’t make it strange. Teenagers had been snogging each other in the closed-off corridors for decades. People were now only just starting to notice. That was all.

“Neville said he saw it happen before his eyes,” Lavender said, loud enough for the whole Gryffindor table to hear her. “Justin was walking along to his next class, minding his own business, and the Ravenclaw seventh year — I don’t know his name — wasn’t watching where he was going. He knocked Justin to his feet, and when he offered a hand for Justin to get up they just… stopped.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, doing her best to focus her attention on revising her essay that was due for Transfiguration in fifteen minutes.

“Stopped?” Parvati whispered. “You mean like… love at first sight?”

Oh, please.

“Yes!” Lavender squealed. “Exactly like that. It was like they were instantly in love, just from talking to one another. They walked off hand-in-hand after that, claiming that they were meant to be. They were… soulmates.”

Parvati inhaled sharply. “Really?”

Lavender nodded solemnly.

“Can’t say I fancied him much myself, but I guess that’s another boy to tick off the list for us.” Parvati sighed.

Unable to take anymore of the nonsense, Hermione set her quill down hard. It clattered along the table, rolling to a stop by a bowl of scrambled eggs.

“Have you ever,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, “thought that maybe they hadn’t ever seen each other before, then when they did, they realised they were attracted and that was that?”

For a moment, Lavender and Parvati stared at her, blinking. It was Parvati who spoke first.

“Exactly,” she said. “Soulmates.”

“No. Luck.”

“You’re an unbeliever, Hermione,” Lavender accused. “You don’t believe in soulmates?”

Hermione reached for her quill again and dropped her head, scratching out a whole sentence near the end of her essay. “No. It’s a ridiculous notion. How can you find your soulmate by running into them?”

“You don’t just run into them,” Parvati huffed. “You just have to touch them. You know, brush against them, or something. That’s how it happened for others. My sister, Padma, she found her soulmate by their elbows brushing.”

“Right,” Hermione said. “Of course she did. And tell me… how do I catch this disease?”

“It’s not a…” Parvati nudged Lavender in the ribs, and the girl closed her mouth. “Well, when it happens to you,” Lavender said instead, “You’ll know it’s true.”

“Of course I will.” Hermione picked up her essay and stuffed her quill into her bag. She scrambled to her feet, glaring at the two girls who seemed to have the inability to think logically. “Well, when it happens to me, I suppose I’ll know when I meet my… soulmate. Until then, I must get to class and I suggest the two of you do, too.”

She stalked away, knowing full well that both Lavender and Parvati would already have their heads together, gossiping about her. Or, maybe she would get lucky and someone else had already ‘touched’ their ‘soulmate’ and the news had already reached them. Both were magnets for such things.

She was halfway to Transfiguration when it occurred to her that she had not seen Ron and Harry all morning. She’d been too busy worrying about finishing her essay that she hadn’t waited for them to crawl down from their room, rubbing their eyes from sleep.

It was unlike them to appear for breakfast, but also highly likely that they were trying to finish off the essay as well, after leaving it for the last minute.

She just rounded the corner when she spotted a crowd gathering out the front of the Charms classroom, blocking her path.

Frowning, she went toward it. Had someone set off one of Fred and George’s products? They were nothing but a nuisance these days. She could set up her own shop with everything she’d confiscated in the past month alone.

“Hermione!”

Ron was in front of her, giving her a look halfway between amusement and surprise.

“Ron? What are you doing here?” Hermione questioned. “We don’t have Charms now…”

“No. Harry and I were on our way to Transfiguration. We were doing last minute homework… you know us… and… well, you know that whole rumour of this soulmate pandemic thing going around?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she said dryly. “Heard of it.”

“Well…” Ron laughed. “I think it’s true.”

Hermione opened her mouth to admonish him, but in that moment, the crowd parted and she was distracted. Because walking towards her was Harry. Holding hands with… Ginny.

“Harry?” Hermione said.

“I told you,” Ron said, and he was more cheerful than she’d expect considering Harry was holding hands with Ron’s sister. “I think it’s true. Ginny was lining up for Charms and Harry merely brushed her to get past and then they both kind of just stopped… looked at each other… and snogged.” He laughed again.

Hermione frowned. She watched Harry and Ginny for a moment, both wearing completely ridiculous smiles. She then looked back up at Ron, her expression sympathetic. “But… well, Ron… I think they’ve kind of liked each other for a while. Maybe they just —”

“You weren’t there, Hermione,” Ron said. “It was like they couldn’t control it anymore!”

Hermione decided to take a different path. “And you’re okay with it?” she said.

Ron shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe if I hadn’t just witnessed it with my own eyes, it would be weird, but it’s just… a disease, isn’t it? It’ll get better…” He side-eyed the happy couple. “Won’t it?”

Hermione smirked. “I don’t know. They say it’s soulmates. Soulmates are for life.”

Realisation dawned on Ron, and the smile quickly vanished.

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said. “It’s untrue. There’s no such thing as soulmates. It’s just… Harry and Ginny. You’ll have to get used to it.” She reached out a hand and touched his arm in comfort. He’d been intentionally ignorant to the obvious feelings Harry and Ginny had for each other.

It happened instantly. Her fingertips had barely grazed him when he was suddenly illuminated in light. Ron, her friend, was… different.

She stepped back, shocked by the sudden warmth through her fingers and the strength of her feelings she’d done well to keep at bay until now.

If the look on Ron’s face was anything to go by, he was experiencing exactly the same thing.

“I —” She had no idea what to say. She just stared. She’d touched Ron many times before. Just yesterday, their shoulders had brushed. But now…

“Merlin, it is contagious,” Ron breathed. He seemed unable to take his eyes from her. In fact, he moved closer.

Hermione shook her head, lost for words. It couldn’t be. It was just a silly rumour that had started, an excuse for teenage romance. But the evidence — the warmth seeping through her body, her pounding heart — was overwhelming.

She was a victim of this stupid disease that was taking down the whole school. And she… she liked it.

And she was happy that Ron was her soulmate. It could have ended much, much worse for her.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. And then she stepped closer to him, drawing his mouth towards hers as if it was something he’d been wanting to do for a while now. Only this time, neither of them had any control to resist.

They were soulmates. She could feel it, could sense it with every part of her. They were meant to be together.

Forever.

#romione #romione fanfiction #ron weasley #soulmate au #hermione granger #hp fanfcition #harry potter fanfiction

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Spells and House-Elves

Title: Spells and House-Elves

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Originally the first in a collection of 26 drabbles with a prompt from every letter of the alphabet.

Prompts: (B) Barrier

Warnings: Mention of attempted murder (vague)

Originally published: Between July 15, 2012 and August 9, 2012 on Fanfiction.net (collection completed August 9, 2012)

Reposted: August 8, 2021 to Fanficion.net and ao3 and Tumblr

Basilisk fangs in hand, Ron and Hermione both made their way through a battle-ridden Hogwarts in search of Harry. Hermione was amazed Ron had even thought about going to the Chamber to get them. It made perfect sense and she hadn’t even thought of it.

And he had spoken Parseltongue – purely by listening to Harry speak it. There truly was more to Ron than she had ever noticed. She was only beginning to realise that now.

“Quick!” Ron urged as part of the corridor exploded behind them.

Hermione squeaked and hurried along, staying close to him.

They rounded a corner. Hermione was too focused on finding Harry to tell him what had happened, that she didn’t even see what was in front of her before it was too late.

Two Death Eaters stood there, masks covering their faces and identity. Nothing was protecting her from their wands.

“Avada Kedavra!” they shouted simultaneously.

Hermione stood there, clutching the Basilisk fangs and the destroyed Horcrux. It was all in slow motion that the two flashes of green light came towards her.

And then they were gone and she was still alive. The Basilisk fangs sprayed everywhere as she hit the ground hard.

“Stupefy!” she heard Ron shout.

What had happened? Why wasn’t she dead? She was supposed to be?

The two Death Eaters flew across the corridor, hit the wall and laid motionless. Ron hurried over to her, helping her gently to her feet.

She looked at him with awe. “Th-thanks,” she stammered, realising now that he had been the one to push her out of harm’s way. He had jumped in front of her, deflected both spells and somehow managed to Stun both attackers. And he was still alive.

Ron looked down at their hands, which were still locked together. The tips of his ears went slightly red as he realised and he let go. “No problem,” he said with a weak smile. “Better them than you... now come on, we better find Harry.”

Hermione nodded, Summoning the Basilisk teeth back into her hands.

When their lives weren’t at stake, she would kiss him. He deserved it.

#romione #hogwarts battle #deathly hallows #romione fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Safe In Your Arms

Title: Safe In Your Arms

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Ron and Hermione find each other immediately after the war.

Prompts: For @chudleycanonficfest

Warnings: Canon mentions of war

Originally published: August 8, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

The setting sun over Hogwarts was not its usual beautiful, picturesque image that Hermione had once enjoyed watching. Tonight, it was dark. There was no joy from watching it slowly set. The sky wasn’t an orange, or a purple, or even a dark blue. It was just black. Bleak and black, like how she felt.

She remembered sitting in this very room and peering out at the rolling hills and mountains and the still lake as the sky drifted between oranges and purples, before it eventually settled into a deep, starry blue.

Many nights she’d stayed awake to complete homework, or study, or go over notes to make sure she’d understood what they’d learnt that day.

Given what had just happened, it almost seemed laughable. What she’d give to go back to the simpler times where her biggest concern had been whether adding an extra sentence to an essay would boost her mark up to one hundred and ten percent.

She was tired. No, that was an understatement; she was exhausted. Drained of energy, surviving on the smallest amount of sleep, yet her brain ticked overtime as she relived every moment of the past twenty-four hours. This time yesterday they were sneaking into Hogwarts, readying to commence for the last battle. This time yesterday, she had no idea whether she’d even live to see the sunset tonight.

Many hadn’t, but she had. She might not feel like it right now, but she was living, she was breathing… she was alive.

And so was Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna… they were all safe and well.

She’d come up to Gryffindor Tower without the notice of the others. They were too busy grieving for their fallen brother. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t see Ron or Harry until the morning, or perhaps the next morning.

After it had happened — after Voldemort had died — Harry had just about collapsed. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He just sunk against the wall and stared, speaking to no one.

Many times in the hours that followed, Hermione considered going to him. Did he need comfort? Did he need his friends? But she thought Ron was right. He said he thought Harry just needed time. So, time would be what she’d give him.

She’d spent some of her time helping to fix superficial wounds on students and others, but when she could do no more, she joined the Weasleys. The family huddled together, all with tears rolling down her cheeks. Even Ron, who she’d rarely seen cry before; even he seemed unable to control his emotions.

For a while, she sat with him, holding his hands to offer comfort. But he needed to be with his family, not her. So, she’d come up to the only other place that brought her comfort.

And there she’d stayed, watching as the sun sank lower into the sky until it disappeared all together. Soon, the first full day without Voldemort would be upon them. What were they going to do?

She’d just contemplated the idea of heading up the staircase to return to the bed she’d not slept in for over a year, when the sound of someone climbing through the portrait hole had her turning.

She knew who it was the minute she saw the tuft of red hair peek through the hole, and she couldn’t help but smile a little. It was small, but it was a smile.

“Hey.”

Ron looked utterly defeated. It was the first time she’d looked at him properly. His tears had dried up, but his face was covered in scratches he’d refused to let her heal. Dirt smeared every inch of skin, and his clothes were torn.

A real warrior, she couldn’t help but think. He’d been amazing.

“Hey.” The word came out choked and she realised she hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I wondered where you got to.” Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking the five steps he needed to reach her.

“I just needed some time to myself,” she answered. “To think.”

It seemed to be enough for Ron, for he nodded.

Hermione gazed up at him and their eyes locked for longer than what she’d usually be comfortable with. He’d always looked at her in a way that no one else had; as if he truly understood what she was thinking and feeling. He didn’t always have the ability to express that understanding in a dignified way, which had frustrated her for years, but she knew that he got her. Better than most, anyway.

And maybe she understood him, too, because she knew what was going through his mind as they looked at each other. In the midst of all that had happened, with everything that had unfolded over the past twenty-four hours, she’d kissed him.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, something that she really hadn’t put much thought into, but something she didn’t regret. She’d wanted to do it for longer than she cared to admit to herself, and it had felt like the right time. If one of them were to die that night, at least they’d die knowing how the other felt.

Finally.

Staring at him with such intensity made her want to kiss him again. But she refrained, knowing that both of them smelt of blood and death. Nor did either of them probably have the energy to so much as bring their faces close enough to each other to actually do it.

It was Ron who broke the gaze, turning to the window she’d been looking out before he’d found her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“No.” It was the honest answer, but one he’d understand.

“Neither.”

Hermione offered her hand to him, and he took it. She smiled, and he returned it, though it was pained. “I’m so sorry about Fred,” she whispered. “I can’t believe —”

“Yeah… yeah.” He squeezed her hand, and then he tugged on it lightly. He indicated the armchairs by the fireplace that she, Ron and Harry had spent much of their time sitting in. She followed him willingly, both of them somehow managing to squeeze onto one.

She was rudely aware of how poorly he smelled, and then felt shameful over the fact that she must have been the same.

But he didn’t seem to mind, for he placed an arm across her shoulders, drawing her to him. Her head fell against his shoulder and there they stayed. Hermione didn’t know for how long, but she was woken to sunlight and the feel of calloused fingers running through her hair. And she was very, very warm.

Blinking, she lifted her head slowly. It was still just the two of them. Had anyone else come in? Were they in the dormitories? Or had she and Ron been alone the whole time, asleep and comforted by each other?

It then occurred to her how easily she’d fallen asleep in his arms. She’d laid her head against his shoulder and she’d been out… just like that. How safe she felt. How… loved.

She blushed at the thought, which seemed silly given all that had happened between them.

“Did you sleep?” she asked quietly, looking at him.

He nodded. “Yeah. A little.” He was looking at her in that way again. Like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how. Was now even the right time to talk about… them? It seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They had plenty of time to talk about them.

But all she could think about was how easy it had been to fall asleep beside him, and how she didn’t want to ever lose that feeling.

She reached a hand to his cheek, running her fingers gently down it, feeling every bump, every scratch, every bit of dried blood. And her heart swelled with love for him. She loved him so very much, and wasn’t now more important than ever to be with those that you loved… and who loved you?

Ron seemed to be thinking the same, for he lowered his face towards hers. She allowed his dry and chapped lips to brush against hers for a few moments before she kissed him back. His grip on her tightened, his free hand running up the side of her face, entangling into her hair.

There wasn’t as much desperation this time. No fear that they might die, no thrill of the first kiss.

It was better.

When they broke away, slightly breathless, Hermione couldn’t help it. She laughed, and so did he. It would take a long time to heal from this, but at least she had one small ounce of happiness to take with her. One that filled a big piece of her heart.

She settled back against his shoulder and he returned to stroking her hair. Soon, this peacefulness would disappear. Soon, they’d have to return to a reality that was far darker than the one that was on this armchair. But for now, this numbed all the pain. And it was what they both needed.

As she closed her eyes once again, feeling herself drifting into another peaceful sleep entangled in his arms, she heard him murmur against her.

“Don’t let this be temporary, Hermione. I need you. I love you.”

She was too tired to respond, but when she woke again, she’d tell him that she needed him, too.

And she’d tell him that she loved him.

#romione #ron and hermione #romionefanfic #romione fanfiction #ron and hermione fanfiction #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Remembering

Title: Remembering

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: At seventy-something years old, Ron reflects on his life with Hermione.

Prompts: For QLFC - write about a character who is known as a warrior

Warnings: Canon mentions of war, Cursed Child compliant, because it’s how it happened.

Originally published: July 30, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

The smile etched on Ron’s face had not left him for the whole night. There he sat, listening like he had never listened before. She spoke with so much intensity, passion… pain. He took in every word, relished in them, savoured them. And as she spoke, he remembered.

From the moment he’d first laid eyes on her to now, he remembered every part of it.

On either side of him sat his children. Rose was on his right, her hand clasped in his. Hugo sat to his left, back straight and listening intently, too. Their eyes were fixated on the front, as was the rest of the audience.

But Ron closed his eyes and just listened.

And remembered.

…

She spoke of their time searching for Horcruxes. The way she described it to the captivating audience made it sound like a walk in the park. She left out the gory details, as they all had over the years. He’d read the history books, seen his name scattered throughout the pages. The words written didn’t reflect what had really happened during that time.

The words painted them all as heroes, and he supposed they were to some degree, but it was her that was the true hero.

It was her who had stayed strong throughout the whole thing, she who had culminated all their plans, who always believed.

For Ron, she was the hero, and from that moment on, she always had been.

…

As her voice filled his ears like sweet music, now reflecting on her accomplishments in the Ministry after the war, he remembered how strong she’d been during those times.

She’d worked furiously to get where she was today, starting in the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, then moving into Magical Law, becoming the Deputy Head, second to Harry, and finally being named Minister for Magic.

Ron was so proud of her, because she’d fought for every second to get where she was. She’d worked day in and day out, many late nights, many early mornings, and Ron had been so proud of her. Always supporting her, cheering on her achievements.

Not to mention she’d successfully raised two children throughout the whole process, and they had turned into two wonderful humans. Rosie in her dream job of being an Auror-Healer, a leader now in that section at the Ministry. And Hugo, writing book after book with spells he’d invented himself, his name now on the standard Hogwarts textbook list.

Ron knew he’d played a part in the child-rearing, but how she’d done it without losing her head, amazed him.

Every day she’d give one hundred and ten percent to their children and another one hundred and ten to her work, and even more to him, her husband.

Even in the tough times, she was brilliant. She’d fought for her children, for herself, and even for him when she’d thought he needed it. She’d never backed down from a fight, never gave up.

And because of that, he’d fallen head over heels in love. Almost fifty years ago now, but he’d never fallen out of love. Not once.

Not when her hair started to turn grey, not when wrinkles appeared. If possible, as they got older, he loved her even more. Because not even age could beat her.

…

Next, she spoke of her family. Growing up as a Muggleborn, spending the first eleven years of her life ignorant to the existence of magic.

How she'd always had the support of her parents, how they did everything for her to make her transition into the wizarding world — a world they didn't understand — as easy as possible.

She spoke briefly of the family she gained when she came to Hogwarts. Of her friendship with Harry and with Ron, and how she'd met her life partner in the process.

At the mention of his name, Ron opened his eyes. He looked at her, his wife. The most amazing woman in this world.

She was smiling at him, and he returned it.

Oh, how amazing she was.

Her eyes flicked away again, taking in the audience once more. Ron closed his eyes again and listened to her tell them about what Ron thought was the bravest thing she had ever done.

She had altered her parents' memories. Made them forget her as a means to protect them.

It was so long ago now, her parents long-gone, but Ron still remembered it like it was yesterday. How she'd appeared at his doorstep, tears streaming down her face, and just fallen into his arms and sobbed.

Then, through a never-ending stream of tears, she'd told him what had happened.

Ron had comforted her as best he could — held her, offered soothing words — but the whole time all he could think about was just how amazing and brave she had been. How strong she was to have done something so selfless.

And he'd loved her all the more for that, watching her as the months went by as she stayed so stoic and strong despite not knowing if her parents would ever remember her again.

His chest, even now, swelled at the memory. He could never forget.

…

She gave a brief, personal ode to her husband and children, pointing them out in the audience. Briefly, all eyes were on them.

She also mentioned their four grandchildren who'd become the light of their lives over the past fifteen years.

Rosie's two girls and boy, and Hugo's little boy. All perfect little humans.

She named her family as her strength, as if she wasn't the strongest of them all.

Ron smiled. He'd have to tell her she was wrong when she was done here.

…

There was a long pause, and Ron once again opened his eyes.

She'd stopped talking and he could see the tears that had escaped her eyes. His instinct told him to go up and comfort her, but he wouldn't. This was her moment.

Silence echoed throughout the hall as she gathered herself. Then, finally, her voice once again ran out, shaking.

"These years have been the most wonderful, but it is time now that I pass it on to the next person. I thank everyone for my time here, for allowing me to be the longest serving Minister for Magic in history, and I'm proud of everything I have done over the years.

"As my final week comes to an end, I can now look forward to all the important things in my life. My husband, my children and seeing more of my grandchildren. Maybe, even, I'll get to go on a holiday that has been long overdue."

Ron smiled. He'd been asking her for years to go away with him, but she had always been too busy.

There was another pause as she seemed to search for the next words to say. But there seemed to be nothing else.

All she did was nod and say, "Thank you."

Applause broke out and Ron, along with Rose and Hugo, got to their feet with everyone else. His bones ached these days, but that didn't matter when his wife was involved.

It had been a brilliant speech from the most brilliant witch he'd ever been fortunate enough to know. They may be old now — as Eleanor, their eldest granddaughter liked to say — but at least they could enjoy another thirty or forty years together in peace.

The crowd continued to applaud as she made her way down from the stage to greet her family.

Ron didn't even let her say anything before he kissed her, an odd sight for those around them, for 'old people weren't supposed to kiss' as Samuel always insisted.

"That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do," she said. "Saying goodbye to fifty years of my life…"

Ron merely smiled and nodded. "Yes, but like everything else, you exceed at all the hard things."

She smiled, for once conceding that she was good.

Ron kissed her again and then took her hand.

"And anyway, now your biggest challenge is yet to come. Now, you have to endure the rest of your life dealing with me."

Hermione gave a wry smile. “That’ll be easy,” she said. “I’ve been doing that for most of my life already.”

#romione #ron and hermione #romione fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Absolute, Pure Happiness

Title: Absolute, Pure Happiness

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Originally the first in a collection of 26 drabbles with a prompt from every letter of the alphabet.

Prompts: (A) Anniversary

Warnings: N/A

Originally published: July 15, 2012 on Fanfiction.net (collection completed August 9, 2012)

Reposted: July 25, 2021 to Fanficion.net and ao3 and Tumblr

There was a lot to consider in Ron and Hermione’s very first year together. Not only were they celebrating their relationship, they were celebrating the birth of Victoire Weasley – Ron’s first and only niece.

They were celebrating a year of peace; a year of not having to check over their shoulder everywhere they went in case someone was after them.

And most importantly, they were remembering all those who died, fighting for what was right. There was a lot to remember on that day, yet first and foremost, it was each other.

“One year,” Ron whispered to Hermione’s sleeping form next to him. One year of absolute, pure happiness with you.

Hermione didn’t move, nor did she blink. She was fast asleep.

He kissed her forehead gently, stroking her hair. How he loved her. How he should have told her that long before he actually did.

As quietly as possible, he climbed out of bed. They were at Grimmauld Place, where Ron now lived with Harry. He made his way to the kitchen, took out his wand and started cooking.

He’d make her breakfast in bed. She would like that.

Just as everything was settling onto the tray, he felt a pair of gentle arms around him. Her hands tracing his stomach.

He turned and was greeted by her soft lips against his. He welcomed them with another kiss.

“Happy anniversary,” she said, kissing him again, this time more fiercely.

Ron returned her kiss once more and then dragged her to the table. He put the tray in front of her. “Happy anniversary,” he replied.

I love you.

The words didn’t need to be said, the way they looked at each other said it all.

Once, they had yelled at each other, screamed, said nasty things. Now, they were celebrating a year of kisses and Iloveyous.

There was no greater feeling than having her near. If there was, he was yet to find it.

Happiness was a good feeling and she was pure happiness to him.

#romione #romione fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron hermione #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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Early Morning Light

Title: Early Morning Light

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione

Summary: Ron and Hermione in the early hours of the morning at Shell Cottage

Prompts: Shell Cottage (day 9 of @romioneficfest)

Warnings: Brief, vague mentions of canon torture

Originally published: July 22, 2021 on Fanfiction.net, ao3 and Tumblr

Reposted: N/A

The morning air was crisp and cool, but after being kept within the four walls of the tiny room at Bill and Fleur's, being outside was refreshing.

Hermione watched the gentle waves in the distance as the sky moved from dark, to purple, to a pale blue under the morning light.

Two days ago and she'd been of the belief that she would never get the chance to see something so beautiful and peaceful again.

She shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. The memory of Bellatrix's hands on her still haunted her, terrified her. Was it something she would ever get over, she wondered, or would it be something she still thought about three, for, five years from now?

Everyone else was still asleep when she'd crept out that morning for some time to herself. She expected the others to sleep for a few more hours, but the sun had barely risen over the water when she felt a presence behind her.

She turned, seeing Ron standing only a few paces from where she sat in the sand, her back against one of the cottage's walls.

Rather than telling him to leave her alone, or to go away, she smiled.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice groggy with sleep.

She patted a space beside her and he sat down, drawing his knees to his chest and staring out at the water she'd just been observing.

"I used to like coming here as a kid," he said, perhaps to no one in particular. "I have good memories. They were simpler times."

"Everything was simpler when we were kids," Hermione said softly.

Ron didn't respond to that and for a while they just watched the waves, listening to it's peaceful lull in the early morning.

Over the two days since reaching this place, Ron had been nothing but a support to her. Where Harry was quiet and contemplative, lost in his plans to continue their quest, Ron was in her room every hour, checking she was okay, asking if she needed anything. He brought her food, glasses of water, anything he thought she might need. He seemed to have some innate desire to look after her, and too weak to do much else, she accepted his help. Most of the time it was just the two of them, alone.

Him leaving had devastated her more than she'd ever care to admit, but he was back now and in times like this, where they didn't know what day might be their last, the past no longer mattered. Holding on to anger after all that had happened since seemed like a waste of time and energy; something neither of them could afford to do.

They were all alive and that counted for something.

When the silence between them changed from peaceful to almost unbearable, she looked at him. His fingers twirled in front of his knees, and he shifted, like he wished to say something but didn't know what.

She'd come to understand her feelings towards him better than she ever had before: the longing looks, the averted gazes, and the tenderness in the way he spoke to her and opened something within her that she was no longer afraid to admit. And she was now also certain how he felt about her. But what benefit would acting on those feelings bring them? It was a war, and they could die. Talking about their feelings out loud would just give them one more thing to worry about when they already had so much.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, feeling the words slip out before she could stop them.

He turned to look at her, surprise on his face. "What for?"

She shook her head. For everything. For being you. "Just… thank you."

He didn't say anything in response, but continued to watch her, something on his face changing the longer he looked at her.

She returned his gaze, holding it for longer than was comfortable. She noticed every freckle on his face, a small scar on the side of his cheek from some years ago, maybe. But most of all she saw his eyes, the way they looked bluer in the morning light.

Her chest tightened, and she was consumed by a desire to act on her feelings, because she knew that whatever she did, her gesture would be returned.

They were alone, sitting in the sand on a near deserted place. It would just be once, a comfort, and then they could go back to focusing on finding Horcruxes.

Still keeping her eyes on him, she inched her face towards his. His breath caught as he realised what she was doing, but he didn't back away. He drew his face nearer, too, until their lips met.

The kiss was gentle to start with — both uncertain, both a little nervous. But as their lips lingered, as they got more comfortable, it deepened. His hand came up to her cheek, kissing her back now with an enthusiasm they both shared.

They'd both wanted this for so long, and finally, in the early morning light at Shell Cottage, they'd gotten their wish.

The kiss didn't last long, but the taste of his lips would forever be etched into her memory. It was as if they'd been designed just for her, fitting perfectly against her own to create some kind of spark that she'd never experienced until now.

When they pulled away the waves could no longer be heard over the roar in Hermione's ears — the thumping of her heart, the heavy breathing from both of them as they relished in the finally.

They didn't speak, for there was no need to speak. Hermione knew, and she knew that Ron did, too. They had shared a moment out here where it was peaceful. But it could be the only moment they shared. At least until this war was over.

Their feelings couldn't — didn't — matter when people around them were dying every day.

She laid her head on his shoulder and he brought an arm across hers. There they sat, watching the waves roll in, lapping against the sand, in a silence that would soon be disturbed by everyone else waking up.

#ron and hermione #romione #romione fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #shell cottage #romione fic fest

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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All That Matters

Title: All That Matters

Pairings/Characters: Ron&Rose, Dean Thomas, Arthur Weasley

Summary: Nothing is more important to Ron than seeing Rose happy. He'd do anything as long as he knew she was okay.

Prompts: The Ultimate “Blame Me” Challenge on HPFC.

Warnings: Fluff? Is that a warning? Just some sweet father/daughter bonding.

Originally published: November 2, 2011 on Fanfiction.net

Reposted: July 18, 2021 to Fanficion.net and ao3 and Tumblr

Ron stepped uneasily into the football stadium, his hand firmly classed around his wand just in case he needed a quick escape. It felt strange being surrounded by hundreds and thousands of Muggles and attending a sport’s game he knew nothing about.

“Tickets, daddy?” Rose asked excitedly, her eyes taking in everything around them.

Ron dug into his other pocket and pulled out two cardboard strips which Muggles accepted as tickets. Despite spending a lot of time with them, because of Hermione’s family, their ways never ceased to amaze him.

He showed them to a bored-looking man, who lazily directed them to the second row from the front.

Rose glided into her seat with an anticipation Ron didn’t understand.

Was this what Muggles entertained themselves with when they didn’t have Quidditch? What was football, anyway? They only played with one ball and they couldn’t even fly. He wondered how Rose found it interesting.

The grass field was rectangular and instead of three large goal posts at each end, a strange, rectangular net was there.

The mascots were pretty lame, as well. They were just people in costumes.

Sometimes it really annoyed him that Rose had inherited his own father’s obsession with all things Muggle. It seemed she found anything magical quite uninteresting, and that included Quidditch. But give her a ‘television’, or a ‘computer’ and she would be entertained for hours. But her greatest passion of all seemed to be this… football.

It was quite disappointing for Ron that she liked it more than Quidditch. His own daughter, a Weasley at that, who didn’t like Quidditch. But with a strong insistence from Hermione, Ron had reluctantly agreed to take her to this football game.

“She asked you. She wants you to take her.”

Ron had had no choice but to go after that. How could he say no to his little girl?

“What exactly is the aim of this game, Rosie?” he suddenly asked as a bunch of players in shorts and shirts ran out onto the field.

Rose sighed and he could have sworn she even rolled her eyes. “To score goals,” she told him as if she had said it a hundred times already. “Just like in Quidditch.”

She then went into a long explanation of how it was played, using words that made no sense to Ron. He was almost going to suggest they go home and she could come again with Hermione, but when he saw the absolute look of delight on her face as a whistle was blown and the players started using their feet to kick the ball, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. So they stayed and watched, not understanding what was happening at all.

“That’s him, daddy.” Rose squealed, jumping onto her seat. Ron pulled her by her shirt sleeve to sit back down.

“Who, Rosie?” he asked once she was seated again.

Rose pointed to a long-haired man who looked as if he’d just crawled out of bed and come straight here. “Him.” She spoke with an awe that made Ron reminiscent of his once-obsession with Viktor Krum. “He’s the best. He scores all the goals for England when they play other countries.”

“Huh. So a bit like your Aunt Ginny then.”

Rose frowned.

The game went on for some time with no one scoring anything. The scoreboard sat at 0-0 for almost seventy minutes, until a cheer suddenly erupted around the stadium. Everyone clad in blue and yellow jumped to their feet, clapping, shouting and the players on the field were doing some kind of ridiculous dance.

However, Ron’s attention quickly moved to something else. He didn’t know anything about football, but he was pretty sure that it didn’t involve any flying balls. And there was a flying ball, zooming above their heads.

The crowd had also noticed, pointing in disbelief as the ball picked up speed.

Oh no, he thought, clutching his wand tighter. He wondered if he could stop it quickly without anyone noticing. But then he noticed two familiar faces amongst the crowd. His dad and Dean Thomas. They were here on business. They’d detected magic in a Muggle space and had come to investigate.

He groaned internally.

“Did I do that?” Rose questioned, panic in her voice. The ball fell to the ground on the field and the crowd cheered at what they probably assumed to be part of the celebration. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to! I mean it, Daddy! I didn’t!”

“It’s okay, Rosie,” Ron assured her. “We’ll sort it out. Come on, Grandpa Weasley has come to help.” He took her hand and they went over to where the two wizards stood. They both looked surprised to see Ron there.

Dean Thomas recovered quickly and said, “We’ve detected the use of magic here…” his eyes flicked down to Rose, who had her head down in shame. Ron squeezed her hand, letting her know it was okay.

“Yes,” Ron said. “It was… well, you know how little underage magic can be controlled. She got… excited. That’s all.”

His father and Dean seemed unsure on how to proceed. They’d probably come here expecting to confiscate a wand for some wizard being funny in front of Muggles. It was his dad who spoke next.

“Probably not the best idea taking someone so young to a place filled with Muggles, Ron.”

Ron almost blurted out that it had been Hermione who’d made him, but he thought better of it. He had as much responsibility for Rose and her wild magic as Hermione did.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

“Maybe you should head home?” Dean then offered kindly.

“Okay,” Rose answered, peering up at Dean. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She thought she was in trouble.

Ron opened his mouth to agree with Dean, but then changed his mind at the last minute.He shook his head.

“I’ve got it under control,” he said. “It was only a flying ball. They thought it was part of the show. They’ll probably have forgotten about it by now anyway. Besides, it could have been worse, right? At least she didn’t blow up the stadium, or put tails on all the… ‘football’ players.”

Dean and his dad didn’t look at all convinced. They shared a look which told him they were going to protest. Anger surged in Ron.

“No!” he said. “I promised Rosie I’d come here with her and I’d rather… I’d rather live the rest of my life without magic than break that promise to her.” He didn’t even give either wizard time to answer. Turning his back on them, he returned to his seat, taking Rose with him.

Rose returned to her seat, solemn and defeated. She cried. “I’m going to be expelled from Hogwarts before I even start!”

“No you won’t,” Ron assured her. “Things like this happen all the time. You aren’t to blame, Rosie. Kids your age have done a lot worse. Trust me.” He still felt angry at their suggestion he take her home. This was something she’d been looking forward to for weeks. He’d be damned if he took her home over a flying ball.

To get her mind off what had just happened, Ron asked her further questions about the game. With each passing minute, her mood lifted and she was soon explaining everything that was happening, a play by play commentary. Ron was actually very impressed by her knowledge. She seemed to know most players on both teams and could name their strengths and weaknesses.

“You’d make a good strategist for Quidditch one day, Rosie,” he told her, his chest filled with pride.

“I don’t want to do it for Quidditch, Daddy.”

“Of course not.”

A whistle blew and the players all started leaving the field. Ron frowned. “It’s over?” he said.

“No, silly!” Rose laughed. “It’s just halftime. They’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Maybe we can get an ice-cream while we wait?”

At that, Ron laughed. “Alright, but you’ll have to show me how to use the Muggle money your mum gave us.”

The second half of the game was much more enjoyable for Ron. Rose rested her head against his shoulder and they watched it together. It was enjoyable.

“See, you don’t need brooms,” Rose said as the final whistle blew, acting as if she had won a long standing argument. “All you need is your feet. Other than that, it’s almost exactly the same as Quidditch.”

Seeing how happy being here made her, Ron couldn’t argue with her. She was happy because they were here, and he was happy because he was with her. It was because of him she had been given the chance to experience something that she loved. The joy he felt in that moment compared to nothing which he had ever felt before.

“I’m so glad they won!” Rose gushed as they exited the stadium with the rest of the crowd. “They’re now second on the ladder. They could really win this year!” She spoke with the enthusiasm Ron did with his siblings over the Quidditch teams. “Thank you so much for taking me, Daddy. I had the best time.”

“It was my pleasure, Rosie,” Ron replied, grinning. “I’ll take you as many times as you want to go.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I had fun, too.” And it was the truth. Football wasn’t for him, but he had loved spending time with Rose. He always loved spending time with Rose. They didn’t spend enough time together.

Rose beamed up t him, slipping her hand into his. “You’re the best Daddy ever,” she said.

In that moment, it no longer mattered to Ron that she didn’t like Quidditch. It didn’t matter that she had covered her bedroom walls with unmoving pictures of Muggle celebrities. It didn’t even matter that she had insisted on going to a Muggle school until she started Hogwarts.

All that mattered to Ron was her happiness, and he was just pleased that he could contribute to that.

#Ron weasley #rose weasley #father daughter #father and daughter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #slice of life

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firethecanonsfanfiction · 3 years

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A Ball To Remember

Title: A Ball To Remember

Pairings/Characters: Ron/Hermione, Hary/Ginny (sort of), Viktor Krum.

Summary: What if Ron had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball? What if Harry had asked Ginny?

Prompts: N/A

Warnings: AU, What if...? moment

Originally published: August 24, 2011 on Fanfiction.net

Reposted: July 12, 2021 to Fanficion.net and ao3 and Tumblr

A Ball To Remember

Harry turned to Ron, taking in his pale face. His eyes were scanning the Great Hall as he watched couple after couple enter. He could guess what Ron was thinking. Would Hermione show up? He had the same feelings about Ginny. What if she had had second thoughts? What if she and Hermione were sitting in the common room, regretting their decisions to come to the Yule Ball with them?

“They will be here,” he assured Ron as much as himself.

No sooner had he said the words then a head full of red hair appeared in the doorway, accompanied by an almost unrecognisable other.

Harry looked at Ron again, who was now staring open mouthed at Hermione’s transformation. He swallowed and then went to greet her, looking rather nervous for someone who claimed he had only asked Hermione as a friend.

Following, Harry met Ginny, who smiled at him.

“Wow…” Ron managed to squeak out. “So… um… er… drink?” Ron managed to say, still clearly shocked by Hermione’s appearance.

Hermione and Ginny nodded and went to sit down together, while Harry and Ron went to get some Butterbeers.

“Blimey, Harry, did you see her?” Ron said. Harry was glad Hermione wasn’t around to hear the genuine surprise in Ron’s voice. “I wasn’t expecting...” he struggled to find the right words and ended with “...that!”

Harry didn’t answer. It was true that Hermione had looked beautiful (he suspected that was what Ron had been trying to say), but his mind couldn’t get rid of the image of Ginny. She had also looked beautiful.

They returned to where Ginny and Hermione sat at a decorated table. Magic was a wonderful thing! With a shaking hand, Ron handed Hermione a Butterbeer. Harry, who had a little more dignity in these situations, managed to keep his cool.

“What did I do to him?” Ron then suddenly questioned, looking to his left.

Harry followed Ron’s gaze. Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang Triwizard Champion, was giving Ron a very dirty look; but as far as Harry knew, Ron had been too scared to even ask for his autograph let alone do anything to offend his idol.

“Oh, I don’t think you did anything,” Hermione answered. “You see, Viktor kind of asked me to go with him —”

Harry almost choked on his Butterbeer.

“— but I, um, turned him down, because, well, Ron had already asked me.”

This time it was Ginny’s turn to splutter. Harry gave her a quizzical look, but she shook her head.

Hermione had now turned slightly pink as she watched Krum stalk away, looking furious. Harry suspected he hadn’t known who Hermione had rejected him for.

“You said no to Krum because of me?” Ron’s voice was quiet. It looked as if Hermione had hit in with a Stunning Spell.

“Well, yes.” Hermione turned a darker shade of pink. “But, it was only because you asked me first,” she added hastily, watching Ron’s face twist with confusion.

“Yes, of course.” Ron turned away from her and back to Krum, who had found some of his fellow Durmstrangs. Harry caught his look of delight as he did so. Apparently he was quite pleased to have beaten Krum to something.

“Well, we better make our way over to the middle for this… er… dance thing for the champions,” Harry said, getting to his feet. “Coming, Ginny?”

Ginny nodded and smiled. As they left Ron and Hermione alone — Ron still looking thoroughly pleased with himself — Ginny giggled.

“Are you aware, Harry, that your two best friends fancy each other?” she asked, grinning.

Harry returned the smile. “Do you think it’s obvious to everyone but them?” he asked. “Ron says he only asked Hermione because he felt sorry for her (and he had no one to go with himself), but I think he… I think it was what he wanted all along and he never realised.”

“And I know for a fact that Krum asked Hermione weeks before Ron did,” Ginny continued. “She told him she would have to think about it. Clearly, she was waiting for what she thought to be a better offer. Would have picked Krum, myself,” she added teasingly.

Back at the table, where Ron and Hermione sat alone, they watched the four Triwizard Champions take to the floor with their partners. Soon, many more had joined them.

“Hermione,” Ron began with a nervous edge to his voice, “would you, er, like to dance?”

“I’d be delighted!” Hermione exclaimed almost instantly, jumping to her feet with so much enthusiasm, she knocked over the chair she had just been sitting on.

Bewildered by her reaction, Ron took her hand and led her to the dance floor. It was soft and small in his palm. They were surrounded by many other people dancing. Looking over to where Harry and Ginny were, he rolled his eyes.

“I think Ginny still might have a thing for Harry,” he told Hermione.

“I think Harry might have a thing for Ginny,” Hermione replied.

“As if!” Ron scoffed. “You see, we were kind of both really desperate for — ” He cut himself off, realising he probably had said the wrong thing.

But Hermione only smiled, apparently oblivious — or choosing to ignore — what he’d been about to say. “He looks like he is hating every minute of it,” she said sarcastically , putting her hands on Ron’s shoulders as they began to sway in time with the music.

Ron chanced another look over at Harry and Ginny. Harry had a huge smile on his face, looking as happy to be with Ginny as Ron was to be with Hermione.

Not my sister, he thought fleetingly, though it was soon wiped from his memory as Hermione drew her body closer to his.

As the night went on, Ron and Hermione continued to dance; as did — to Ron’s growing discomfort — Harry and Ginny.

“Why couldn’t he have asked someone else?” he complained to Hermione as they broke apart after the song ended.

“Oh, Ron, give it a rest, will you? You weren’t even worried until I said something. Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“He’s my best friend, she’s my sister. It’s not right.”

“It’s not like they’re planning a wedding!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I’m sure Ginny is,” Ron grumbled as a new song started.

Now more focused on what Harry was doing with Ginny, Ron didn’t notice when Hermione moved her hands from his shoulders to around his neck. It wasn’t until he turned back to face her that he realised their faces were just inches from each other. Hermione was staring directly into his eyes...

His heart beating rapidly against his chest, Ron didn’t know what to do. His first instinct was to back away, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, he didn’t really want to pull away.

Ron didn’t think it was possible for them to be any closer, but somehow, Hermione managed it. It was like she wanted to… kiss him.

“Are you thirsty?” he stupidly asked, pulling away at this sudden realisation.

“No,” Hermione answered quietly, looking hurt. “I’ll just… I’ll just go and wait by the table until you come back. Come and find me there.” She turned away, trying to hide the tears which had formed in her eyes, but Ron had seen them.

Feeling very guilty and very confused, he walked slowly over to an empty seat and slumped down, out of sight of Hermione, he hoped. Was he actually that stupid? Hermione had almost kissed him and he’d pulled away! He was furious with himself, which quickly turned into anger at Krum. Seeing that Hermione had been abandoned, he had wasted no time in getting her to dance with him. She didn’t look too pleased about it, but she didn’t walk away either, allowing him to lead her against the dance floor with tear stains on her cheeks.

“Ditched you for Krum, did she?” Ginny asked, sitting in the seat beside him.

“It’s what she wanted, anyway,” Ron mumbled, folding his arms and glaring at Krum. He knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t very well admit to his sister that it had been him that had pulled away.

“It wasn’t, actually,” Ginny said matter-of-factly. “Krum asked her weeks before you did, but she told him no. She wanted you to ask her.”

Ron turned his gaze on Ginny. It felt as if a large rock had just settled in his stomach. “Really?”

“I heard what she said,” Ginny interrupted. “It was common knowledge in the girl’s bathrooms that Hermione Granger had rejected Viktor Krum. They all thought she was mad. I mean, they all would have given their right legs to get a chance to go to the Yule Ball with Bulgaria’s Seeker. Yet, she said she’d have to think about it. Then when you asked, she gave you a very quick yes, didn’t she? Doesn’t take a genius to work out what she was waiting for, does it?”

Ron felt his face turn red as he thought back to the moment their faces had been mere inches apart. Hermione had had her arms around him, her face tilted, hopeful... “Merlin,” he whispered. He wanted to kiss Hermione Granger more than he wanted to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And he’d blown the chance.

“Harry, you were right,” Ginny said, leaning across Ron, to talk to Harry, who’d just sat down on his other side. “They seem to be the only two in the world who don’t realise they actually fancy each other.”

“I don’t fancy her!” Ron said, more out of habit than anything else. “I mean… even if I did, it looks like she is having too much fun with Krum.” He said the Seeker’s name with a loathing he had not felt a few hours ago.

Harry and Ginny looked in the direction of Hermione and Krum. She didn’t seem to be enjoying herself at all in their opinion. In fact, she kept looking over at Ron every two seconds, tears glistening in her eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by Ginny.

“Blimey, Ron, what did you say to her? She looks really upset.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Ron defended himself. “But, I think she tried to kiss me and I-I backed away.” He ignored Ginny’s questioning look and Harry’s surprise. “I panicked… I… I didn’t see it coming.”

Ginny stalked away after that, leaving Harry and Ron alone.

“You’re not into my sister, are you?” Ron asked before Harry could continue the topic of Hermione.

“I… er… no,” Harry answered, though Ron suspected he had only said that to not get him more worked up.

��Because if you are… that’s —” he took in a deep breath, not quite believing what he was going to say next, “— that’s okay, you know. If you do like her, that is.”

“And I’m okay with my two best friends getting together,” Harry replied. “Though, I’d be quick about it. It looks like Krum is getting her to smile now.”

At these words, Ron jumped to his feet and marched over to where Hermione was dancing with Krum. He wasn’t diplomatic about it, either. “You’re with my date,” was all he said before taking Hermione’s hand and leading her away from the dancefloor, past the tables and out into the Entrance Hall, away from everyone else.

“Ron, what are you do —” But her words fell short as Ron kissed her. He had taken her completely by surprise, so much so, that when he pulled away, she had nothing to say. For once. She just stared up at him with very red cheeks.

“I don’t care if he’s the bloody Minister for Magic,” Ron said. “You said you would go to the Ball with me, so… here I am.”

Hermione continued to stare up at him, her mouth moving silently as she searched for something to say. Eventually, she decided that kissing him again would be the best reply.

Gleeful at how the night had turned out, Ron floated through the crowd, causing some of the girls to move away in alarm. He had a huge smile on his face. He had kissed Hermione Granger. In that moment, nothing else mattered. He had kissed Hermione. This was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him.

#romione #hinny #ronhermione #harryginny #ron and hermione #harry and ginn #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #fanfiction

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