A/n: This fic was written (and posted on Tumblr) for one of my very dear friends and an amazing author herself- remedial-potions(tumblr)aka bowtruckles(ffn) who celebrated her birthday on August 31st.
It's a super fluff piece and I hope y'all will enjoy it.
It was everything his heart desired, and more… oh, so much more.
Ron was sure even the Mirror of Erised couldn't show it in all its perfection, even the Room of Requirements couldn't recreate this magic. He felt a sting in his eyes and chuckled softly to himself, and then sighed in contentment.
Looking back, everything made sense… their rough start, the years and years worth of bickering, pinning and those long months when they stopped talking to each other altogether. Even the darkest period of his life, those months with the Horcrux, and worse, the five weeks he spent away from her made sense now. It was just like making a Philosopher's Stone- they simply HAD to go through fire to get something so rare, so priceless.
The morning sun was streaming in through the window, the lacy curtains fluttering in the sea breeze and Ron never felt so thankful for the life he had.
Hermione stirred a little next to him, and he watched her smile in her sleep before snuggling closer into his warmth. With his head balanced on his left palm, hand bent at the elbow while her head rested on his upper arm, he was provided with a delectable view of his sleeping wife. Her messy curls were spread across the white pillow and his arm, and the sheets covered almost everything but her bare shoulders, providing him with the mesmerising view of skin that made his heart yearn for more. He pulled her closer still, her naked back, covered by a rogue layer of sheet pressing into him and causing a million other emotions to surface, again. He pulled her a tiny bit closer- covering the little space between them, trying hard to remove the sheet without waking her up. But she seemed to be tangled in it so he let go, grumbling a little and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck instead, breathing in her scent.
His hand was wrapped around her waist, pressing into the soft flesh of her abdomen while her hand rested on his. She looked peaceful, happy and content as she slept. Finally, his heart decided, his life was truly complete.
He didn't really want to take his eyes off his new bride- his heart did a funny sort of jiggle at the realisation- Hermione, his best friend, the crazy, bushy-haired, bossy girl from the train was his bride now. And not just that, she was his love, his life, his world. His heart was so full that he was worried it'd jinx it just by being so utterly happy. Although he didn't really believe in that crap, he still looked away- not willing to risk it for anything.
Reluctantly, he looked around the room instead. It was still not so bad afterall because everything in here was so... Hermione, he had ensured that. The pristine white room, the sea rumbling beyond the small cottage he had rented for their honeymoon and marginally transformed to suit his needs, was exactly what she had described that lazy Sunday morning years ago. The small patch of grassy garden was in full bloom in this season, and the small study was packed with books- albeit muggle ones- but he doubted Hermione would complain.
He snuggled closer, lying parallel to her with her back blending in with his front and her curves pressing deliciously into him, igniting a burning desire deep inside his heart.
"I love you more than my life," he breathed into her hair, in the softest of whispers he could manage, closing his eyes in utter bliss.
"And I love you just as much," she replied in her sleepy voice. It was beautiful...
"Sorry, did I wake you up?" he asked, picking his head up to watch her. For the better part of the last seven years, Hermione had woken up beside him, and yet, he knew he'd never tire of the sight. Those lips that tasted better than the best chocolate, parted in a lazy smile, "Yes, but you need not be sorry for that."
She pulled out her left arm from under the pillow and placed it over his. Her wedding band glinted in the sunlight and his heart skipped a beat again. She was wearing his ring… But then again, a ring of his had adorned her finger for two years now- one he had bought after keeping aside as many Galleons as he could manage from working two jobs, both demanding and exhausting. But it was worth every Knut. The ring he had proposed her with wasn't that fancy, it was all he could afford at the time but the moment it slipped into her finger, it looked like the prettiest thing in the world. But nothing compared to the simple gold bands that bonded his life to hers. He grabbed hold of her hand and ran the pad of his thumb over the metal band, mesmerized.
"Feels like a dream, doesn't it?" she asked in the softest whisper, happiness pouring from every syllable.
"Sure does and it kinda is, isn't it? A dream, I mean," he replied.
"Every bit. I still can't believe it." Her eyes were watching him and he turned a smidge to take her in. She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling… and she was all his- just as he was hers, for all eternity.
Suddenly the bliss was too much and he could feel himself begin to tear up. He met her gaze though, overwhelmed and raw, but unashamed. After all, she was the only one who had the right to see him at his most vulnerable- the one who, he knew, would see the insecure and conscious, fifteen-year-old Ron behind the hard and rough exterior of an Auror, and still love him, be with him, drive away his nightmares…
"Thank you for barging into our compartment that day, 'Ermione..." he managed.
She chuckled and placed her palm on his cheek. "Thank you for everything- every fight, every argument," she replied.
"Really? Why?" he asked.
"Yes, because we probably needed to go through that fire to deserve this," she replied before pulling him in for a kiss.