I actually wrote this around four months ago and since then it's been lingering and gathering dust in my hard drive. I still think it's kinda cute; however, this does not mean that I'm going to start updating all my stories that are on permanent hiatus right now. 'k? Truly sorry. I really have to start finishing the things that I've started but I've lost all inspiration; someday I might start again but that day is not going to be in the next two months.
Reviews are love.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hermione or Ron. Thank God. It would be horrible to own Ron. No offence to all the Ron lovers out there, of course.
Pension Plans
"Ron, does my bum look big in this?"
"You've arshked me that queshtion every day, every morning, for the last fifty years before tramping off to the garden, Hermione."
"I know. But I still have to know. Does my bum look big in this?"
"YESH, Hermione, your bloody bum DOES look big in that dresh! May I also draw your attention to the wrinklesh on your face, the hideous bright red lipshtick, and the telling graynesh and shponge perm that are the telling shigns that you are old?"
A pause. "Well, Ron, haven't you noticed the liver spots on your hands? Or that your hair is consistently falling out and you have a bald patch that is unusually just over your right ear? Or that your bum sags? It's not just you, you know."
A gasp. "I sho do not have liver-shpotted hands!"
"Your mouth is getting that pug-dog look, too."
A depressed silence.
"I'm young, I'm young, I'm young."
"For heaven's sake, Ron, stop rocking back and forth like an autistic child."
"I'm young, I'm young, I'm young."
"Okay, you're young. Happy?"
A brightening of the atmosphere. "I am?"
"Happy or young?"
"Young."
"'Course you are."
"I love you, Hermione."
"You've said that so many times over the years that it must've gotten quite mechanical; it shows in your voice. Make me believe it."
"I love you, Hermione, deshpite your big bum, your unflattering lipstick, your shponge perm and your growing redundant sense of fashion."
"And I love you, Ron, despite your bald patch, your sagging bum, your tight leather pants and your liver-spotted hands."
"I sho do not have liver-shpotted hands!"
A sigh. "Ah, forget it, Ron."