The Ride Is Worth It
Author's Note: Originally published on February 8, 2010
The mixture of anger and disappointment lining Ron's face reflected his stormy mood perfectly. He had just landed after an early morning fly, hoping to clear his head and lessen his frustrations at what had taken place the previous evening. Instead of taking advantage of the distraction provided by soaring through the air on a beautiful summer morning, he had spent the time dwelling on the thunderous row he'd had with Hermione.
Pushing his wind-swept hair out of his eyes, he stomped down the path behind their cozy cottage to the ramshackle shed sitting in the corner of their small garden. It wasn't the most perfect structure in the world but he was proud of it; he had built it using his own two hands, without the use of magic. He'd done it for her, in an effort to better understand her father's obsession with building things in his spare time. In hindsight, it was a much simpler undertaking than trying to understand his wife sometimes.
Unwilling to go back inside just yet, he set about looking for a mundane task that would keep him occupied for a few extra minutes. He wanted to avoid the palpable tension currently permeating his home. He spotted Hermione through the large window on the ground floor, sitting with shoulders slouched at the desk in the study. He scowled at the large pile of texts sitting in front of her, the indirect cause of their current argument.
"What the hell are we doing?" he questioned out loud as he sat down and pulled his broom across his lap, taking the time to delicately smooth out the kinks in each individual bristle. "It's Sunday morning."
Sunday mornings were by far Ron's favourite part of the week. Between their busy, tiring schedules and their respective families, it was the only time he and Hermione properly relaxed with one another. On most Sundays they would lie in bed all morning, whispering, laughing, teasing, exploring and making love. It was their time to forget everything else and just concentrate on each other. On the rare occasion when something interrupted this ritual, both would inevitably end up having a miserable week.
It was this exact reason that had prompted him to go for a fly. He had woken up to find the bed cold and empty, mirroring the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. Despite the fact that he felt he was right, he hated fighting with her. Playful arguments aside, this was a full blown row, the likes of which they hadn't had in a long time.
After a quick shower, he'd made an attempt to seek out Hermione, only to find her locked in the study again. He wasn't sure if she'd even come up to bed last night. He could hear the scratching of her quill through the door, but she refused to acknowledge his loud knocks. His fury, which had abated overnight, came back in full force and he had stormed out, cursing his wife's stubbornness.
"My wife," he contemplated aloud in the empty confines of the dusty shed. He was still in awe that Hermione was his wife and he was her husband. Almost one year ago he'd felt like the luckiest man in the world, when they had made that sacred pledge to be together forever.
A few days from our first anniversary and we're not even speaking to each other, he thought regretfully.
Remembering how she'd shut him out earlier when he'd wanted to apologize, that regret quickly turned to anger. He hastily dropped his broom with a clatter and strode towards the house, his own pride getting the better of him.
"I shouldn't have to hide out here. It's my bloody house, too," he said to himself.
Pulling open the door, he made his way to the living room and tapped the wireless with his wand, before sprawling out on the sofa. After a couple of hours of listlessness, the growling of his stomach reminded him of another thing he had missed as part of their usual Sunday routine—brunch. On some days, he would whip up a batch of his Mum's scones, which were Hermione's favourite. On others, the only thing that could coax him out of bed was the smell of the bacon Hermione was frying for him.
He entered their spotless kitchen and began rummaging in the pantry when he heard the unmistakeable sounds of the study door opening and footsteps approaching. Neither one said a word as they did an awkward dance of avoidance while preparing separate lunches. He couldn't help looking up at her for a moment and noted the exhaustion on her face. He felt a surge of guilt, and was about to speak when she met his eyes and gave him a venomous look. He immediately grabbed his sandwich and turned on his heel, marching back to the living room.
Over the course of the next few hours he only saw her once more, when she finally left the study and went upstairs. It was getting close to the time when they usually got dressed for Sunday dinner at the Burrow, so he decided to try, once again, to speak to her.
He stepped into their bedroom and found her lying in bed, her eyes rapidly scanning the pages of a thick novel. She started a bit, and he could see her battling not to acknowledge his presence.
"We have to go soon, Mum's expecting us."
"I'm not speaking to you, Ronald, until you apologize for last night."
He exploded. "Why? Tell me one good reason, Hermione."
"Just because we're married doesn't give you the right to make decisions for me! If you think you can order me around–"
She was cut off by his roar of disbelief. "I told you that wasn't what I meant! What about you? Going off and making decisions without even asking me. I'm your husband, whatever you do affects me. Did you ever stop to consider my plans?"
"What plans? Spending every hour at the Auror Department or at the shop?"
Too stung to even respond to her accusation, he grabbed a pair of shabby jeans and an old shirt from the wardrobe, not really caring what he was changing into. "I don't have time for this. I'm going to the Burrow."
"Fine, leave then."
"Fine!"
As he turned to Disapparate, the last thing he saw was the angry hurt on her face, and the single tear rolling down her cheek.
He landed in a heap on the hard ground in front of the Burrow, his concentration failing as the image of Hermione's face invaded his thoughts.
"Bloody lucky I didn't splinch myself again."
He had the urge to immediately race back home to her, but he knew they both needed some time to calm down. He didn't know what to do, even if he did go back. He needed some advice and his dad immediately sprung to mind. His parents made their marriage look so easy; his dad must know something that could help. A plan began forming in his mind. He would just tell everyone that Hermione was feeling ill, and then quietly pull his father aside to talk. He was going to have to get through this dinner without drawing any attention to himself.
He stood up and brushed the dirt off his jeans, noticing just how ratty looking they were. He applied a quick Reparo charm, but it didn't seem to make them much better. He was positive his mum would say something about his harried looking state, but he could just say he was too busy looking after Hermione to bother with his good robes. The excuse sounded flimsy, even to him, but he wanted to be prepared just in case anyone asked.
He walked towards the front door, trying his best to ignore his thoughts about how he had left things with Hermione. He almost made it all the way through the Burrow when he finally realized that his mum hadn't yet enveloped him in a huge hug. It was also extremely quiet, which was a rarity. He concluded that the dinner must have been moved outdoors in order for everyone to enjoy the warm summer evening.
He tried his best to compose his face into a neutral expression, instead of the scowl that had been on it all day, before reaching for the garden doorknob.
"SURPRISE!"
"Bloody buggering hell!" he shouted out, shocked at seeing his family and friends gathered together in celebration. They stared back at him, equally shocked at his dishevelled state and missing wife.
Luna's singsong voice broke the awkward silence. "You can remove the invisibility cloak, Hermione."
She turned to Neville, who was standing next to her, looking dumbfounded. "I knew she would figure it out, she is very bright."
Ron turned and glared in her direction. Judging by the serene look on her face, his newly-returned scowl was doing little to convince her that this wasn't the case. His eyes were abruptly drawn to the large banner which materialized above her head, flashing a simple message:
Happy Anniversary, Ron & Hermione!
"Ron," his mum interrupted, a look of worry crossing her face. "Where's Hermione? Is the poor girl ill?"
He was tempted to go along with his cover story, but the red flush of embarrassment painting his skin gave away any attempt to lie. He mumbled the truth under his breath.
"What's that? Speak up, Ronald," his mum persisted.
He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and his face crumpled. "We had a row, she... she isn't coming."
He could practically feel the wave of disappointment from his friends and family upon hearing his announcement. Not wanting to face them any longer, he turned to go back into his childhood home.
He sat down at the kitchen table and dropped his head into his hands, feeling as though the day could not get any worse. He felt horrible about ruining the surprise anniversary party and was miserable without Hermione, but that little stubborn voice in his head insisted that he was right and she was wrong.
He heard his mother's voice instructing the guests to carry on and enjoy the party and sighed, knowing that she would be in at any minute to lecture him. Everyone seemed to think that he was solely responsible for any and all disagreements he and Hermione had. He could hear his parents' hushed whispers just outside the door, and was surprised when his dad walked into the kitchen.
He watched in silence as his dad prepared two steaming cups of tea, the movements unhurried and relaxed—the complete opposite of what Ron was feeling. His father took a seat across from him and set one of the ceramic teacups in front of him, before taking a sip from his own and pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose.
"What happened, son?"
Ron bristled in sudden defensiveness. "We had an argument, just like I said."
"I've seen the two of you argue plenty of times before, and I've never seen you this upset by a simple squabble."
"It was anything but simple."
"Care to enlighten me, Ron? Your mother and I have had our fair share of fights over the years, and I've found that sometimes things aren't as bad, or as complicated, as you may think."
Ron pondered this for a moment, before relenting. "Well, it all happened last night..."
Ron walked up to his front door with an extra spring in his step, despite his exhaustion from working the entire day. His long-term plans were finally falling into place and he couldn't wait to share the good news with Hermione. The last four years of sacrifice and hard work had led up to this, and he was sure that Hermione would be delighted.
He paused for a moment, wondering if she'd be upset that he'd had to work so late on a Saturday night, especially since he had promised he would be home in the late afternoon. Buoyed by the events of the day, he dismissed that fear before walking through the door.
"Hermione, love, I'm back," he yelled out, kicking off his shoes and striding in. When she didn't answer immediately, he went to go find her.
Spotting a sliver of light from underneath the study door, he pulled it open, ready to tell her the news. He stopped short when he saw the look on her face. She was furious.
"You were supposed to be back hours ago. Where have you been?" she asked quietly, in a strained tone he had rarely ever heard from her.
"George and I had some important things to discuss. Then he took me out for a quick pint in celeb–"
"You what?" she screeched, her eyes ablaze.
"It's not a big deal, Hermione. Listen, I have something to tell you..."
She leapt to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. "No, Ron, you listen. I've been waiting for you for hours and yet you have enough time to go to a pub with your brother. You didn't even bother to send me an owl or at the very least, your Patronus. This isn't the first time, either. Do you know how many nights I've had to spend alone, sitting around here waiting for you? Do you?"
He was shocked at her angry outburst and didn't really know how to respond. He had no idea why she was so upset. "I'm sorry, Hermione. But listen, I just need to tell you..."
She cut him off again and began pacing behind the desk. "All I ever hear from you these days is 'Harry needs my help' or 'George is swamped'." She pointed a finger at him. "Since you've decided that your evenings are better spent with them, I've decided thatmy evenings will be better spent on my studies."
He was hurt by her accusations, even if they were a little too close to home. He had his reasons for spending so much time working, and he'd thought that she understood this. He was extremely confused by what she had just said.
"What studies?"
"I've told you on countless occasions how difficult of a time I've had with creature regulations because of the archaic laws. Well, I've decided to do something about it. I'm going to be working in my current position during the day, and in the evenings I will be pursuing my formal studies in Magical Law. If I find any extra time, I may decide to spend it with my husband, if he can spare a half a moment for his wife."
It was his turn to get upset, completely forgetting about the announcement he had wanted to make.
"There is no bloody way you're going into Magical Law, Hermione!" he ranted angrily. "I won't allow it. And you aren't being fair. You know why–"
Her eyes narrowed and she interrupted him. "Excuse me? Are you forbidding me from doing something?"
He backpedalled, trying to explain himself, but was unable to get out the words he really meant.
"You've got it all wrong, that isn't at all what I was trying to say."
"I'll have you know, Ron Weasley, that if you ever say anything like that to me again, I'll... I'll..." She was so angry that she couldn't even come up with a suitable punishment.
"I think you're completely blowing this out of proportion, Hermione. You're being ridiculous."
She stopped pacing and turned to face the window looking out to the garden. He could see her shaking with pent up fury. "I can't speak to you right now," she whispered harshly. "Please leave."
"If that's what you want, that's what you'll get." He turned and slammed the study door behind him, before marching up the stairs and throwing himself into bed, too drained, emotionally and physically, to even contemplate how things had spiralled so quickly out of control.
He continued on and described the events of the morning to his dad, before sitting back and letting out a breath. Even recalling the fight was a tiresome experience.
His dad sat there for a moment, sipping his tea. "What was this good news you'd wanted to share with Hermione yesterday?"
He had completely pushed that thought to the side in light of his current predicament, even though the two were inexorably linked.
"The reason I was late yesterday was because George and I were finalizing our future plans for the shop. Things have been difficult the past couple of years, since I joined the Auror Department, but we've finally reached a point where I can step away. George and Angie have things running pretty smoothly now. I've agreed to take a smaller stake in the store, and in return, I'll only need to work there a couple of days a month."
"I'm glad to hear it, Ron. Your mother has been complaining that you've been working yourself ragged, spending all day with the Aurors and evenings at the shop."
"Truthfully, I'm exhausted, Dad. The worst part is all the time I'm missing out on spending with Hermione. She was right about what she said yesterday; we barely see each other most of the time because I'm working so much. She's tired of it, and so am I. I tried to tell her yesterday that I wouldn't be involved in the shop much anymore, so that I could devote more time to us, but she wouldn't hear it."
"If this is causing you so much trouble, why didn't you try and leave earlier, Ron? I'm sure George could have hired someone, at least part-time."
He looked down sheepishly. "I needed the money. I don't make that much as a junior Auror, and Hermione's department isn't exactly at the top of the Ministry funding list. We're doing fine, but the extra income from the shop was nice. The ring, the wedding, the honeymoon, the cottage—I want to be able to give her everything, Dad."
His dad let out a chuckle, but his eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. "Ron, have you ever seen your mother's wedding ring?"
Puzzled by the sudden shift in the conversation, he thought about the question for a moment. "Come to think of it, no, I don't think I ever have."
"That's because I didn't give her one. Well, not at first."
Ron's eyes widened comically. "What?"
"When I married your mother, it was during a very difficult period. The war was just beginning, and we were fresh out of school. I didn't have much money, so I took up a second job, trying my best to save up for a proper ring and wedding. When your mother found out why I was working so hard, she told me she would rather spend one night with me than a hundred nights alone with some fancy ring." A boyish smile lit up his father's face, making him look thirty years younger. "That was the night we eloped."
"What happened with the ring?"
"I bought her one, right before Bill was born. It wasn't anything flashy, but it was the meaning of it that mattered. I think she put it away somewhere private. With seven children running around, jewellery wasn't exactly a practical thing to wear every day." He paused for a moment. "Do you see the point I'm trying to make here, Ron?"
He nodded, beginning to understand why Hermione had been so upset by his constant absences. He missed her terribly as well, but he thought he had been doing the right thing for them.
"Now, what's this about you ordering Hermione not to pursue her legal studies? I can't imagine she reacted kindly to that. If there is one thing I've learned over the years, Ron, it's that marriage is an equal partnership—there has to be some give and take. I don't think your mother, or Hermione for that matter, would stand being bossed around."
"But Mum bosses you around all the time."
"Sure she does, but that's just her way. Besides, I've seen Hermione do the same to you, and you don't seem to mind. Those little things don't matter, son. When there are important decisions to be made, we always take them on together."
"Dad, honestly, I didn't mean it the way it came out, I was just so angry that she wants to do this and I reacted with the first thing that came into my head."
"Why were you so angry about her decision, when you were guilty of doing the same thing?"
"I was finally able to make things better for us. We were going to have so much more time to spend together, and now she's going to be tied up in her studies for ages. All I really want is more time to spend with my wife, and now that dream is hanging by a thread. I went mental when she told me that all of her time was going to be spent on that, instead of with me. I want her to do what makes her happy, but now I'm left out in the cold. That's why I got so angry. Besides, I don't want her to work in that particular department."
His father raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I have to deal with those gits all the time, Dad. Even though Kingsley's made all those changes, the law department still attracts a lot of those arrogant, smarmy pureblood types who look down on others. She shouldn't have to deal with that kind of nonsense. I don't want her getting hurt; I wouldn't be able to stand seeing that. I was trying to protect her."
"Ron, would you agree that Hermione is capable of taking care of herself?"
"Yeah, of course she is, but that wouldn't stop me from worrying about her."
"Do you think Hermione would be intimidated by these sorts of people?"
"No," he admitted. "If bloody Malfoy couldn't get to her, they don't stand a chance."
"I think she'll be okay. I'm willing to bet that the department needs more people like Hermione."
"That's true, Dad. She's right brilliant," he said proudly. "I reckon she could teach those poncy gits a thing or two. But..."
"Yes?"
"What do I do now? How do I fix this?"
"I'm going to share something which I learned the hard way, so listen closely."
Ron leaned forward in anticipation, eager to learn this important piece of knowledge.
"Communication."
"Communication?"
"Communication is the key, Ron, and it's worked for your mum and me for years. You have to be honest with each other and share your thoughts and fears, instead of bottling them up until they explode."
Ron's face paled as he thought about the momentous task ahead of him, but he knew this was exactly what he and Hermione needed to do. Communicate.
His father smiled and reached forward to grip Ron's forearm. "We Weasley men have a weakness for strong women, but we wouldn't have it any other way, yes? Trust me, son, talk things through with Hermione."
Ron grinned and nodded, the colour returning to his face. He felt clear-headed for the first time since the fight. He needed to get home to Hermione.
Standing up, he walked over and surprised his dad with a fierce bear hug. "Thanks for the talk. I was expecting Mum to come in here and scream my ear off."
His dad snorted. "I promise to hold off your mother if you promise to come back—this time with Hermione. Agreed?"
"Yeah." He glanced outside and briefly took in the scene in the garden. "I'm sorry I ruined the party."
"Ah, but the night is still young." His dad stood next to him and peeked out the window. "It looks to me like this party is just getting started."
Ron took a deep breath, his face a mask of determination. "Tell Mum, and everyone else for that matter, that we'll be back soon."
Ron arrived in front of his home, his Apparition achieved successfully this time, his focus solely on reaching Hermione. He instinctively knew she would still be in their bed and wanted to run up to her, but the image of her tearstained face returned and he realized that she was deeply hurt and upset. He forced himself to slow down and remember his father's wise words.
He quietly made his way up the stairs and paused in front of the slightly open bedroom door. Peering through the crack, he saw his beautiful wife propped up against the headboard, wiping away the tear tracks which shone in the lamp light. He was overwhelmed with the need to walk right in and hold her close, but he knew she would never allow that until they made up. He waited until she had regained her composure, then pushed open the door and stepped in.
Hermione's head shot up in surprise at seeing him again so soon. She eyed him as he took a seat at the corner of the bed. He fought the urge to caress her ankle, which was resting just inches away from his hand.
"Back already?" she asked.
He nodded glumly. "Yeah, surprise anniversary parties don't work when one of the guests of honour is missing."
"You don't mean..."
He nodded once again. "The whole family is there right now, and most of our friends."
A look of regret flashed across her face. "If you think I'm just going to forgive you to go to the party, you're sorely mistaken," she said, her voice losing a great deal of the vehemence it held earlier.
"No, I'm not here about that, I'm here about us. Look, I hate fighting with you like this. We need to talk and sort this out."
"If you're just going to get angry again–"
"I'm not. Please, just listen to me, Hermione."
She crossed her arms and sat in silence, which he took as a positive sign to continue.
"I had a chat with my dad. You know, about our row and all. I figured he would have some experience at this sort of thing. He... he told me how important communication and honesty are in a marriage." Ron paused. "Can I explain why I was late yesterday?"
She looked for a moment like she wanted to interject, but instead stiffly nodded her head.
"George and I have been making some changes to the shop and my involvement in it. Over the past year, we've been laying out a plan for me to step away and we've finally reached that point. He just wanted to take me out for a quick drink to celebrate, and to thank me for everything I've done for him. The best part is that I'm keeping a small stake in the shop, with the promise that I only need to help him out once or twice a month."
She leaned forward, unable to hide her look of concern. "Why are you leaving the shop? Why didn't you tell me about this?"
His fingers inched towards her ankle. "I'm exhausted, Hermione. Four years since the end of the war, and I feel like all I've done is work. I just want to spend my days in the Auror Department and my nights with you. That's why I'm leaving the Wheezes. I didn't tell you about it because I wanted to surprise you."
He locked eyes with her and slowly circled the pad of his thumb around her ankle. "I'm so sorry, love, I honestly didn't realize that my absence was affecting you so much. You always supported me, so I thought you were fine with things. I would have left much earlier if I'd have known how unhappy you were, even if it meant..."
"Meant what, Ron?"
He dropped his head in shame and felt his ears heating up. "Even if it meant I couldn't give you everything I wanted to, everything you deserve. You would've had to settle for a smaller ring, a smaller wedding, no fancy wedding trip to Spain, and a few more years in the flat above the shop."
Her expression softened and she shifted closer to him on the bed, tentatively brushing his fringe away from his eyes. "Ron, I don't care about any of those things. All I want is to be with you, even if it's in that cramped flat. I would've been fine with any old ring and a small ceremony; all that mattered was making those vows to each other."
"Dad told me as much. I just thought that I was making you happy, but I guess I was wrong."
"You're not wrong, Ron, you make me happy, just you. That's all I need."
She repositioned herself and sat beside him, pulling his hand in between both of hers. "I owe you an apology as well. I'm sorry I never told you how neglected I've been feeling. I couldn't ask you to abandon George, or Harry for that matter. I know how proud you were to get the shop running again, and for you to fulfill your dreams of becoming an Auror. I'm so proud of everything you've done, and I couldn't ask you to give those up, even though I never got to see you. I felt like I was the third most important person in your life, and I guess I got fed up."
He intertwined his fingers with hers, before reaching forward with his other hand and cupping her chin. "I never, ever want you to think that. You will always be the most important person in my life, Hermione. You're my heart."
He saw her eyes fill with tears as they both leaned forward, their lips meeting in a sweet, tender kiss, one filled with a thousand apologies.
He gathered her into his lap, feeling her arms snake around his shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and nuzzled against her hair, taking in her familiar scent. They sat there, rocking lightly for a few minutes, clutching one another close after not being able to touch for almost an entire day.
"Ron," she whispered against his skin, "we still have something to discuss."
He knew exactly what she was referring to, feeling regretful for the words he had spoken in an angry haze. She pulled back slightly, and he immediately missed the feeling of her body pressed against his.
"I'm serious about taking up my law studies, Ron."
"I know and I'll fully support whatever you decide to do. Please believe me, Hermione, I really didn't mean what I said yesterday. I say daft things when I'm angry."
"That you do," she said with a smirk.
He leaned forward and their foreheads touched. "Forgive me?"
She nodded and tangled her fingers in the curls on the back of his neck. "Why did you get so distressed when I told you what I want to do?"
"Well, I was so excited when I came home last night. I wanted to share the good news that we'll finally have proper time to spend with each other. I even thought we might do something special to celebrate. Then you told me what you wanted to do, and just like that, everything I've been working towards was flushed down the loo. I'm tired of never seeing you, and now you're going to have your nose buried in books for who knows how long."
"Two years, Ron. I promise the time will fly by. Once I pass the exams, I'll be able start my internship right away since I already have some Ministry experience."
He pouted. "Just because you've been here waiting while I've been working in the evening doesn't mean I haven't thought about you and missed you every second. I can't take two more years of this."
He trailed a series if butterfly kisses down her jaw line before continuing. "Do you have to work and study at the same time? I know it'll be hard, but I think we can get by if you leave Magical Creatures and spend each day studying." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Then we could spend every evening together."
She sighed. "As wonderful as that sounds, there are still so many things I've started that I need to see through. Did you know that centaurs still–"
She was cut off abruptly when his lips descended on hers.
"Sorry," he said with a grin. "I couldn't resist. One missed day of snogging is one too many. Seriously, love, can't we do something? Can you cut back a little at the Ministry? I've done everything I possibly can."
She gave him a look of sincerity and squeezed his hand. "I know you have. Thank you for making that sacrifice for us. It must have been difficult decision for you to leave George and the shop; I wish you would have talked to me about it. I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't mean what I said last night about work and school being more important than you."
"It's all right, Hermione. I think I deserved it. It doesn't change the fact that we're still going to be in the same situation."
"No," she said resolutely. "We don't need to go through this any longer. I'll make sure that I make time for the most important person in my life."
His eyes lit up and he pulled her into a hug. "That'd be brilliant."
"I can't believe how silly we've been, not talking things out like this. Promise me we'll do a better job of sharing in the future?"
"We'll try our best, love."
"It means so much to have you supporting me—I'm really excited to start my new studies."
"Hermione, you're my wife and I love you. I just want you to be happy. But... is this a good time to be honest?"
She looked up and quirked her brow.
"Yes, I suppose it is," she said slowly.
His face clouded in worry. "Are... are you sure this is what you want to do?"
"Yes, Ron, I'm positive. Why do you ask?"
"I've had to deal with a lot of those bloody tossers from the law department, and it has been a nightmare. It's sickening how these slimy pureblood wankers try their best to get these criminals set free, the ones we've worked so hard to capture. You should hear the way they talk about the changes at the Ministry, always going on about how good things used to be when the right sorts of people were running things. It reminds me of how Malfoy used to complain about Hogwarts going to the dogs."
"Oh, Ron, there are always going to be ignorant people like that. Years of prejudice aren't going to disappear, just because an evil monster was defeated. The law department is a big place, and there are many people working to make sure things change for good."
"I know that, especially with Kingsley in charge." He cupped her cheek. "I'm just worried that you'll have to face some of the same shite you've had to in the past. I know how determined you can be, and some of those bastards won't like it."
She patted his arm reassuringly. "I love that you worry about me, but I'll be fine. Those people and their attitudes are in the minority now, and the numbers will keep shrinking as wizarding society becomes more tolerant, which is something good that has come out of the war. Besides," she teased, "I can always threaten to send my handsome Auror husband after them."
"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, causing her to chuckle.
"Prat."
She pulled him forward into another kiss. "We'd better get going to the party."
He wasn't quite ready for that as he placed kisses on her bottom lip and down her chin.
"I insist that we... oh my." Her eyes closed and she tipped her chin up, exposing her neck to his lips.
He took the opportunity to suckle her soft skin, causing them both to moan.
"The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back," she panted.
That comment sparked him into action. He kissed her once more on the lips, before grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the bed.
"Let's go then."
"Ron," she pointed out, "we might want to get changed first."
"Oh, right."
Much to Ron's chagrin, his suggestion that they shower together to save time was denied by Hermione, who insisted that they would never get to the Burrow if that were to take place. They shared touches and kisses as they scrambled to get dressed for the party in their honour.
Ron watched in the vanity as his wife neatly styled her hair up, a few chestnut tendrils framing her stunning face. She caught his eyes in the mirror, flashing him an adoring smile, and he was immediately lost in thoughts of how lucky he was that this amazing woman loved him as much as he loved her. He felt giddy when he saw her wedding band glint in the light, a reminder of the year they had shared as husband and wife and a symbol of their future together.
She stood up and walked towards him, the smile on her face growing even larger. He returned that smile and reached forward to take her in his arms.
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you, Ron."
"Ready to go?"
She nodded her head and hugged him tightly as they disappeared with a pop.
They arrived right in the middle of the garden at the Burrow, causing Percy's girlfriend Audrey to shriek at their sudden appearance. Many of the attendees noticed the commotion and began clapping at the arrival of the guests of honour. His mother, on the other hand, fixed him a look and walked over.
"Ronald Weasley!" She reached up and grabbed his ear, causing him to wince. "You will march into the house right now and come back out in one minute."
"Yes, Mum."
His mum turned to face Hermione. "It's wonderful to see you. You look lovely."
Hermione blushed and nervously touched her hair. "Thank you, Molly."
"Now, run along with Ron... there's a dear."
They were forced to walk past a large group of the assembled guests, many of whom were struggling to hold back laughter at Molly's scolding of her son. Ron spotted Ginny smirking and Harry shaking his head in amusement.
They entered the Burrow and waited patiently for a moment before returning to the garden.
"SURPRISE!"
"Again." Ginny remarked dryly after the cheering and whistling quieted, inciting a round of laughter from the guests.
Ron shot her a look as many of their family and friends came forward to greet them and offer their congratulations. He watched as his dad bent down and kissed Hermione on the cheek, before whispering rapidly in her ear. She nodded seriously a few times, then turned and beamed at him.
His dad then walked up and pulled him into a hug. "Congratulations. Marriage has its ups and downs, but the ride is worth it."
"Definitely," he said as he caught sight of Hermione over his dad's shoulder. "Thanks again, Dad. We had a long talk and resolved a lot of things."
"I'm glad to hear that. Now just remember what I taught you. This is a lifelong commitment and I know the two of you will make it work." His dad clapped him on the back before turning away. "Enjoy the festivities. Your mum has gone to a lot of trouble."
"I can see that," he said, taking a moment to examine the scene in front of him—something he hadn't been able to do earlier.
The evening sun cast an orange glow over the setting, causing the streamers draped on the surrounding trees to shine like gold. The banner he had seen earlier floated above the scattered tables and chairs, rippling slightly in the gentle breeze.
The partygoers were mingling and chatting in small groups, their voices and laughter carrying far into the night. He smiled as he watched Teddy chase Victoire around Fleur's chair, where his sister-in-law was busy trying to nurse a cranky Dominique.
He noticed a row of tables next to them, laden with all sorts of scrumptious snacks and sweets. Having only eaten a sandwich all day long, his mouth began to water at seeing the delicious spread. He also realized that Hermione hadn't had much to eat either, so he went to fix them both plates.
His eyes bugged out at the amount of treats his mum must have spent days preparing. He grabbed a plate and began piling on anything and everything within reach—vol-au-vents with a variety of fillings, sausage rolls, cubes of cheese, and small triangular sandwiches. Skipping over the crudités, he tossed a few tarts and pastries on to the now heaping plate, and finished things off with a sprinkle of crushed crisps.
Pushing aside the haphazard mountain of food, he pulled another plate in front of him and began delicately arranging selective items on the plate. His brow knitted in concentration as he opened up a sandwich and scraped off the excess mustard, before patting down the sausage rolls with a napkin. He placed strips of vegetables down next to the salmon canapés, making sure to pick out the celery, and lightly drizzled dip on top, just the way his wife liked it.
Unbeknownst to him, he had gained an audience. Upon hearing guffaws, he looked up to find George and Angelina openly laughing at his careful handling of Hermione's plate.
"Ron, when you're done with that, can you separate the stems and tops of my mushrooms for me?" his brother asked in a high falsetto, batting his eyelids in exaggeration. This caused Angelina to clutch her stomach and laugh even harder.
Ron felt the tips of his ears heat up. "Bugger off, George. Excuse me for doing something considerate for my wife. Hey, Ange, when was the last time this sod did something nice like this for you?"
She cut short her laughter to turn and glare at her boyfriend. "Excellent question, Ron."
It was Ron's turn to laugh as George's mouth dropped in surprise at how quickly the tables had been turned. Ron picked up the plates and flashed his brother a cheeky grin, before hastily beating a retreat from the table, smiling to himself as he heard George's flustered pleas to his girlfriend.
He gingerly balanced the plates and made his way over to Hermione, who was chatting animatedly with her mum. He greeted his mother-in-law warmly and handed Hermione her food, before kissing her hesitantly on the cheek. He still felt a bit nervous around his in-laws, even though he had spent so much time with them.
"Thought you might be hungry, love."
"Thank you, Ron." She looked down at her plate and grinned. "You remembered how like everything?"
"Of course." He rolled his eyes affectionately. "I've only been eating meals with you for over a decade."
Hermione's mum was looking on in amusement at this exchange. Ron noticed she was empty-handed and his face dropped slightly.
"Er, I'm sorry. I didn't bring anything for you."
Mrs. Granger eyed the mess of food on his plate and chuckled. "That's quite alright, dear. I ate after your earlier arrival."
He was hit with a wave of embarrassment, but it faded away quickly when he felt Hermione grab his hand tightly in hers.
"I was just telling Mum about our future plans; how hard you've been working, and how much you've sacrificed for us. She's quite impressed."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "You know I'd do anything for you, Hermione."
Hermione moved closer and snuggled against him, her arm slung around the small of his back. "I know, Ron, and I'd do anything for you."
"You did agree to marry me, so that was something. Best day of my life, I reckon," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and love.
"Me too, Ron."
He bent down and they kissed deeply, all thoughts of food and family forgotten. As they broke apart, they noticed that Hermione's mum had been standing there the entire time, a soft look of understanding on her face.
"Ron, Hermione's father and I are so thrilled that you've become a member of our family. I can't thank you enough for being there for our daughter all of these years, and for how your family accepted her, and now us, into your lives."
"I should be thanking you, Mrs. Granger. My life wouldn't be the same without Hermione in it—I'm the lucky one for getting the privilege to spend the rest of my life with her. I... I know we've had our share of ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade the past year for anything in the world."
He felt Hermione trace circles on his back, telling him without words that she completely agreed.
"Ron, it's perfectly normal for newlyweds to go through an adjustment period. It's clear to everyone how much you love one another."
"That we do, Mum." Hermione spoke up.
"Now, I'll let you two eat while I go and find your father." She shook her head in mock annoyance and smiled. "Your brother Charlie offered to show him some real dragon teeth."
Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and dragged him over to the nearest table, stopping only to summon a couple of butterbeers.
"I'm famished, Ron. Why don't we sit for a bit?"
Over the next few hours, as the sun set and the sky bathed the garden in blue and purple hues, the couple sat huddled together contently with Ron's arm around Hermione's shoulders. They watched the partygoers and chatted with friends and family who stopped by their table, including a long conversation with Harry and Ginny, who had recently set their own wedding date.
"This was such a wonderful way to celebrate our anniversary," Hermione remarked to Ron when they had a moment alone at their table.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I have plans for a private celebration of our own."
"Oh? And what might those plans be?"
"It's very simple. You and I are going to spend the next few days in bed, in the shower, on the kitchen table, and in front of the fire."
"Mmm..." she moaned as he breathed against her ear. "That sounds wonderful."
"How about a preview?" he asked before kissing her neck.
"Ron," she groaned, "would it be horrible if we left our own party early? I want you all to myself."
"I don't have a problem with it if you–"
"Oi, lovebirds!" George's Sonorous-enhanced voice boomed across the garden, immediately directing the guests' attention to them. They turned pink at the snickers and muffled giggles they heard all around them.
"Being the impeccable showman, my dear sister and her fiancé volunteered me to say a few words. But before I do that, I owe ickle Ronnie for an earlier incident."
"I hope this doesn't take long. I want to take you home," Ron whispered to Hermione and practically pulled her into his lap.
"Look at these two," George continued, "they can't keep their hands off each other." He paused, and then grinned evilly. "I want everyone who has ever caught them in a... compromising position... to raise their hand."
"Bloody hell, George!" Ron shouted out.
When nearly everyone in the garden raised their hand—causing a loud gasp from his mother—George winked at the couple and raised his glass in a toast. "Happy anniversary, may your passion and love for each other never fade."
Shouts of "Hear, hear" and the clinking of glass filled the night air. Hermione reached up to brush away a tear at George's unexpectedly sweet words.
She stood up from Ron's embrace and reached for his hand, pulling him up to stand next to her as she addressed everyone.
"Thanks, George, for your lovely toast—despite your lack of decorum." She grinned at George who bowed with a flourish, causing Ron to snort.
She turned to face Ron's mum. "Molly, we can't thank you enough for all of your hard work. The food, the decorations, everything was absolutely lovely."
"Yeah, thanks Mum," Ron added.
His mum blushed and waved it off like it was nothing.
Hermione continued. "Thanks to the entire Weasley family, especially Ginny and Fleur, for undoubtedly lending their help to pull this party together." She began choking up. "I'm honoured to be a part of this family—I love you all. You've given me so much throughout the years, including the man I love with all my heart."
Ron fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently dried her tears. He cleared his throat and continued on. "I want to thank the Grangers for welcoming me into their family and treating me as their son. Your daughter is everything to me, and like I promised a year ago, I'll continue to love her for the rest of my life."
"Thanks to all of you for coming today and helping us celebrate our first year of marriage. We were touched that so many of you joined us. We weren't expecting anything like this."
He grew serious for a moment, and he felt Hermione's small hand squeeze his. "Harry, you'll forever be our best friend and brother." His voice broke slightly. "You've been there, for each of us, in our highest and lowest moments. We never would have found the happiness we share without you, and for that, we are forever in your debt."
Harry nodded but was unable to reply, a look of raw emotion on his face.
Not knowing what else to say to break the sudden swell of emotion, Ron raised his glass. "Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Ginny spoke up and said with a laugh, "It's time for cake. I'm sure Ron's been waiting for this moment all night."
"She has no idea what I've been waiting for all night," he growled under his breath.
"Soon, love." Hermione answered back.
Cake and tea was set out by his mum, who made sure to hand him a rather large slice, and a smaller one for Hermione. He sat down next to his wife and passed along her piece before digging into his own. As they chatted with Percy and Audrey, he noticed an increasing number of people coming over to say their goodbyes.
He wolfed down his remaining cake and impatiently gestured for Hermione to do the same. Much to his utter amazement, she took three large bites, gulped down her tea, and stood up. She took hold of his arm and they walked around the garden, giving their thanks and farewells to the remaining guests.
They stopped and spoke to their parents for a few minutes, exchanging hugs and kisses with the Weasleys and the Grangers, and thanking them profusely. When his mother tried to insist that they stay a bit longer, his dad winked at them over her head and steered her towards Bill and Fleur, who were readying the Weasley grandchildren and Teddy for bed.
Ron and Hermione sought out Harry and Ginny last of all.
"Can you please do me a favour, Harry?"
"Sure, Hermione, anything you want."
"Please alert your supervisor at the Auror Department that Ron won't be in until Wednesday."
Ron hugged Hermione from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Better make it Thursday, love. We have a lot of celebrating to do."
Harry cringed slightly. "How about I just arrange for you to take the whole week, and we never mention this again?"
Ron was jubilant. "Works for me, thanks, mate."
They waved goodbye, and just as they were about to Disapperate, Ron pulled Hermione into a passionate kiss. The wolf whistles of Ginny and George echoed in their ears as they vanished.
They arrived directly in their bedroom and wasted little time in renewing the kiss they shared before they left the Burrow. Ron slowly rubbed his fingertips up and down her arms, causing her to shiver in anticipation. He pulled her closer and nibbled his way down the side of her neck.
Her fingers reached for his buttons, and she started opening each one, exposing more and more of his skin. He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek and they locked eyes.
"God, I missed you this morning, let's never do that again."
"I never want to miss another night or morning with you." She hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss to his freckled chest.
He growled and desperation overtook them. Kisses turned heated and touches became possessive and intimate. Soon, their clothes were flung all over their room as they gave in to their need to feel each other. They collapsed on their bed in a flurry of caresses, tastes, and moans. Limbs tangled and sheets were rumpled as they made love in a frenzy; physically expressing their devotion to one another. They rested for a while afterward, teasing each other with soft kisses.
They made love a second time during the night, slowly and with much less urgency, drowning in the sensations of receiving and giving pleasure to their true love. They reached their peak simultaneously, their sweaty, panting bodies wrapped together as one.
Hermione laid her head on his chest, her eyes threatening to close as she listened to his rapid heartbeat. He entangled his fingers in the bushy locks which tickled his damp skin, loving the feeling of holding the love of his life safe and close against him. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, so he whispered into her hair.
"Happy anniversary, Hermione. I'll love you forever."
"Forever is perfect, my love. Happy anniversary," she mumbled as she nodded off.
Neither could imagine a more comfortable spot in the whole world.