A/N: Hello, hello, hello. I remembered at 10 to 11 last night that wanted to write a quick Valentine's Day thing to go with the rest of fluff tsunami that probably happened yesterday and by 11:59 had this. Frantic typing is fun. Thought I might as well stick it on this site as well. So yeah, little bit rushed, a little bit late but it's Ron and Hermione and what more do you want?

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter and would totally be my Valentine if I ever had to guts to ask her.

Hermione levitated the last of the plates into the cupboard and closed it with another flick of her wand and a sigh. As was their deal, the one who didn't cook had to do the washing up and as she had been known to cremate toast, Hermione usually ended up elbow-deep in suds. Another flick of her wand turned the lights of the kitchen off and she made her way into the living room to find Ron there, slumped on the settee, half-listening to a Quidditch game on the Wireless.

As she approached, Ron grinned and made room for her to sit next to him. The simple routine of it all made Hermione smile as snuggled into his side.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, kissing his cheek.

Ron chuckled. "You don't have to thank me every night you know."

"Well, thank you for not making a fuss today," Hermione replied. She closed her eyes and waited for Ron's funny comment. However, it never arrived.

"What?"

"Today," she reiterated, "thanks for not joining everyone else in losing their minds to this cheap and tacky display of completely un-romantic forced romance."

"Right. No problem."

Hermione's eyes snapped open. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Pancake Day?"

Despite being incredibly comfortable, Hermione pushed herself into a sitting position and glared at him. "It's Valentine's Day today, Ron."

"Shit." The last time Hermione had seen him look this scared he had been standing on a chair and there was a 'giant, murderous, eight-legged beast' in the kitchen.

"You forgot."

"No." Ron shook his head violently. "Nothing is less romantic than… whatever it was you just said." He tried to pull her back to his side, but Hermione was having none of it and moved to the other side of the sofa.

"That is besides the point!" she exclaimed.

"But - but if I had remembered," Ron spluttered, sitting forwards, "then you wouldn't have been happy with me either!"

"Yes, I would have!" Hermione fired back. "We could have mocked this ludicrous excuse of a marketing scheme together."

The small voice in the back of her head that always chirped up these situations was telling Hermione that she was being ridiculous and over-reacting. The much louder voice that always took control in these situations was screaming things to do with Ron sleeping on the sofa for a week and having to clean all of the flat. As ever the small voice was fighting a losing battle.

Meanwhile, as Hermione began to rage inside, Ron was growing gradually more bemused.

"Firstly, I don't mock; I take the piss," he said, counting on his fingers. "Secondly, I love you. Is that not enough?"

"Wouldn't hurt to show it occasionally," sniffed Hermione. And, with one final scathing look at her boyfriend, she got off the sofa and stormed towards the kitchen.

"I show it loads!" Ron shouted after her.

The only sign Hermione gave that she had heard him was to in the kitchen, she yanked open the fridge with more force than necessary to retrieve a bottle of white wine as Ron continued pleading his case.

"I can't win either way!" he called after her, sounding half-way between exasperated and annoyed. "I either give into society or whatever or I'm unappreciative!"

This is so typical of him, Hermione fumed internally. Take what I say and twist it so I sound unreasonable.

"I'm just saying," she replied as calmly as she could, searching for a wine glass, "the odd bunch of flowers or-" She froze as she opened the cupboard that she knew wouldn't have glasses in, but wanted the pleasure of slamming anyway. There, amongst the tins, sugar and tea bags, was a large red box with a black ribbon tied neatly around it. She picked it up and stomped back into the living room.

"What is this?" she demanded.

Ron looked up briefly to see her holding the box up with one hand and the other resting on her hip, before turning away again.

"What's it look like?" he mumbled.

"It looks like chocolate."

"Then it must be a dragon egg."

Hermione took a deep calming breath. There weren't many people brave enough to use that level of sarcasm near her and not look remotely scared.

"You bought me chocolates," she said accusingly.

Ron shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. "Maybe."

There was an awkward heartbeat of silence.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And without another word, Hermione turned on her heel, marched back into the kitchen and threw the box onto the table.

Breathing heavily, Hermione tried to look at anything that wasn't the pretty box of confectionery on the table but it somehow managed to draw her attention anyway. It looked innocent enough, just sitting there… being a box of chocolates…

With a sigh, Hermione slumped into the nearest chair. When had she been the kind of girl to go crazy over a forgotten Valentine's Day? Normally she hated it. Every year since they had been together, Ron had bought her something small and she had told him off. Nothing expensive or special - just a small token to show he cared. She would say the whole thing was tacky and that he shouldn't have… He would tell her to get over herself and just accept the damn gift… A small argument would break out and they would end up resolving it the best way they knew how - in bed. It may not have been a normal tradition, but it was theirs. Hermione had come to accept the annual occurrence. She just hadn't noticed until she had thought Ron had actually forgotten it.

Slowly, she reached across the table and lifted the lid a little, just so she could see a couple of the chocolates inside. By the looks of things he had bought the hazelnut collection from Honeydukes - her favourites. She carefully reached in, extracted open and popped it into her mouth, slowly letting it melt away with her anger. Behind her she could hear the fuzzy static of the wireless and knew what she had to do.

Reluctantly she rose, picked up the box and went back into the living room.

"Want one?" She held the box out, but Ron didn't look at it. In fact, he folded his arms and scowled.

"Forced romance is even less romantic when you're the one who payed for it," he grumbled.

Just as her small smile wavered, Ron glanced at Hermione and grinned. Suddenly there was no need for apologies and explanations. Both of them had behaved childishly multiple times and undoubtedly would again. Staying angry wouldn't help anyone in the end.

It had taken them several years to learn this, Hermione realised as she sat back down next to Ron, but at least they had got there in the end.

"Love you," she whispered.

Ron looked down at her sheepish expression and chuckled. "Good," he told her as he nicked one of the chocolates from the box and kissed her.