For the ever lovely Anna (colorful swirls). I hope you like it. If you don't, then don't say I didn't warn you.

Also entered in the Mood Ring Challenge, for the color lavender, and the characters Ron Weasley and Alicia Spinnet.

Her perfume smells like roses. Ron can't remember when he started associating Hermione with roses, (third year? fourth?) but he does, and when she asks why he always sends her the blood red flowers, Ron only shrugs, saying something about how they smell nice.

Later on, when they move in with each other, he will see a bottle of a pink tinged liquid and experimentally spray it into the air. He realizes a moment too late that it probably isn't a good idea to spray a potentially poisonous substance into the air that surrounded him. Hermione was talking about some potion she was testing for the Department of Mysteries, after all. Thankfully, instead of releasing poisonous gases, Ron is met with the subtle scent of roses, the smell hazy and diluted like the flowers in summer air.

The scent is called Roses of the East,and the brunette will look pleasantly surprised when she finds a miniature bottle in her stocking. When she asks him how he knew it was her favorite scent, Ron will say that he saw it and it reminded her of him. He will not say that he saw it on her dresser, and scoured every store in Muggle and Wizard London to find it for her. He never found it, and ended up having to pull some strings and floo to France to pick up his package.


A bit later on, when Ron gets down on one knee, they are at a restaurant, and roses sit on the table next to them.

"Yes! Of course, Ron!"

Ron smiles, and when she buries her head in his neck, and they both laugh out of giddiness, he inhales the scent of summer run out of the bistro, and she takes off her heels, and they run around together in the evening breeze. Hermione swears that she's never felt so in love, and he watches as she spins around London, her sweater twirling with her, and engulfing her small frame and black dress.

That night, as they lay in bed together, exhausted from flooing everybody, Hermione will put her head on Ron' shoulder, and quietly, say that she likes summer weddings. Ron, drowsy and tired and done with all the congratulations, leans his head down, inhales slowly, and manages to catch the faint scent of Roses in the East, which lingers on her skin, even after the shower she just had. He imagines their wedding, outdoors, lots of people, and the scent of summer air and roses. Just the thought makes him smile.


At their wedding, everything is red and white and beautiful, and rose petals are strewn across the tables, and along the walkways. Ginny wonders, absentmindedly, why Ron was so insistent on roses, nothing else, but she has to admit that the place looks nice, especially when dusk settles and the candles are lit, slowly, the spell staggered so that the subtle illumination appeared as the sun disappeared.

Hermione has a bouquet of white lilies, and red roses. She had wanted cala lilies, and cala lilies only, but somehow the order got mixed up. Ron hadn't seemed all that upset though, and gladly agreed to trade his white bloom, which looked striking pinned against the black tuxedo for a faded red rose.


Their married life was every bit Ron and Hermione as expected. The first day in their new home,the pair argued over where to put the painting of Hogwarts, and the neighbors chuckled at the sound of the pair bickering.

"That's true love for you," Mrs. Henderson remarks to her husband. She has to repeat it, his hearing aid is in the bedroom.

"So you weren't listening to me this whole time?" she screeches, enraged.

Ron and Hermione stop arguing to listen to the her, and they laugh together as her husband apologizes profusely. The day is spent moving furniture, and when they lay in bed, the painting is in front of them, so that when they wake up, they'll see the Black Lake, and the patches of lavender that grow along the path to the castle. They fall asleep satisfied, and content. Hermione's pajamas are fuzzy against his cheek, and the air brings the sharp night scent of roses in the garden.


"I'm pregnant." The words are met with silence, and Hermione looks at him, eyes wide, and for a second thinks he is unhappy, but then Ron in sinking to his knees and kissing her stomach, and she pulls him up and they embrace, him squeezing her tightly. She is wearing a flowy dress in a rose pattern, and it feels like silk under his fingertips.


Pregnancy is a dream, surprisingly. They are both overjoyed and happy, and everything seems to pass in a dream-like state. Ron keeps the vase on the kitchen counter full of roses, different colors now, pink and yellow and pure white, in addition to the customary red.

Six months after she tells him, Hermione is home, as she had been for the past two weeks, on leave. Ginny had just left, with tiny baby Albus, who looked just like Harry. Hermione had visions of the future where James and Albus and her little girl ran around, with Teddy and Victoire right behind them. It would be the Golden Years.

But for now, she was at home, waddling around her house, unable to see her feet, and ready to see her precious baby already. Apparently, the baby was ready too, because suddenly she was calling Ron, and being led to the fireplace by her worrying husband.

St. Mungo's is pleasantly busy, and she is feeling suddenly tired, just pushing her way through the people, and asking to see Dr. Spinnet immediately. Alicia, her old friend from Hogwarts seems to understand that Hermione is not in the mood for small talk and immediately sets about getting her situated in a sterile room, clean but bright. Roses stand in a vase near the window, but Hermione has better things to worry about.

Thirteen hours later, she is sweaty and tired, and holding a tiny bundle of the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. Hermione looks up at Ron, and he looks around the room, before his eyes land on the roses, whose strong fragrance he can faintly detect. Ron thinks about the scent of roses in sweet, hazy summer air.

"Rose," Ron says firmly.

His wife nods in agreement and confirms to the nurse ready to write down the name, "Rose Weasley."


Much later on, Rose Weasley will creep into her Mum's room, and look up in wonder at the many beauty potions on the vanity. A tiny hand will reach up, grabbing a crystal bottle filled with a pink-tinged liquid, and she will press down on the nozzle, delighted at the way the scent of roses fill the air. It reminds her of her Mummy.


Rose Weasley is wearing that perfume of her mother's (She nicked the bottle just as they left. It was half empty, and polished so that it shone.) when she meets Scorpius Malfoy for the first time.

"It smells like roses," he remarks, and Rose, thinking it is a pun, laughs and asks if he wants to sit with her and her cousin Albus.