disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
dedicated to: Empress (Empoleon), because I promised her this story over a month ago, and while I was late, never let it be said that I break promises. :3 I hope you like this, darling!
a/n: Yes, this is supposed to be backwards. Please, read it the way you would any other story (the first time, at least). You'll enjoy it much more that way, I guarantee you.
written for: If You Dare, Weasley Family Bootcamp, All Canon Bootcamp, Songfic Bootcamp, Pairing Set Bootcamp, Quidditch League Competition - Round 4 (Appleby Arrows, Seeker), Hugs & Happiness - Empress, All Sorts of Love Competition (Canon).
i've been so happy loving you
- forever, the beach boys
:-:
They're back to back, lying on the bed. Her breaths are shallow as she takes in the crisp air. She can hear him wheezing beside her.
"This is it," he says. It is. After all the years.. She can't say that she isn't happy with how everything turned out. Her family - the ones still alive, that is - are either healthy or on their way, as well. Her children are happy, Rose with twin boys and Hugo a precious baby girl.
"Meet you there?" she asks, teasing him. Of course she'll meet him there.
"Sure," he answers easily. "Last one there's a loser!"
"No," Hermione corrects. "Last one there's suffering from loser's lurgy!"
Beneath all the wheezing, she is sure she hears a laugh.
:-:
"What do you mean, she's sick?"
Dr. Weldon sits down, takes off his glasses, and rubs his temples, as if preparing for a battle. "I mean she's not doing well, Mr. Weasley," he says. "She doesn't need to be doing much..make sure she rests a lot, and eats plenty of fruits and grains. Exercising is helpful, but don't let her overexert herself. If she maintains a healthy lifestyle, she'll see at least three more years by."
"And if she do all that?"
"Well.." the doctor shrugs, as one that regrets but does not mourn. "Your wife has already had a long and wonderful life, Mr. Weasley."
:-:
"I'd to make a toast," Ron announces, to his wife, the only other person at the table. "To you, Hermione. It's our thirtieth anniversary, and you're still just as bossy as you were thirty years ago." He grins. "No, I'm kidding. You're amazing, Hermione, and I love you. To Hermione!"
"To me," she echoes, smiling when their glasses clink.
:-:
"Who's the better cook - me or Mummy?"
"Mummy!" Hugo grins, showing two missing front teeth.
"Who's the better dish-washer?"
"Mum," seven-year-old Rose answers as she enters the room. Ron sticks his tongue out at his daughter. She sticks it out back.
Grinning, Ron continues. "Is Mummy or Daddy better at doing tricks?" Hugo screws up his five-year-old face for a moment, thinking, and then smiles.
"Mummy!"
Ron sighs. "Of course," he mutters. Rose walks over and sits by him, poking her younger brother, making him giggle.
The sight of his son laughing brings an idea to Ron's mind. He grins.
"Alright, then, who's the best tickler?" Ron emphasizes his point by wiggling his fingers over Hugo's tiny feet.
"Mummy," Hermione says, beaming, from the doorway, and she proceeds to walk in and tickle Rose. Ron grins at his wife before tickle-attacking Hugo.
:-:
"He looks just like you," she says, sleepiness clear in her voice.
Noting this, Ron replies, "Maybe I could introduce him to the rest of the family, and you get some rest."
Yawning, Hermione offers him the newly-born Hugo Arthur Weasley. "Sure," she says, before drooping back into her pillows and closing her eyes.
He kisses her forehead softly, looks his son in the eyes, and smiles as he brings the baby to meet his big, loving, crazy family.
:-:
It's all a blur of sweat and pushing and screaming and tears and pushing. She feels Ron's hand holding hers tightly, she hears his encouraging words in her ear, but all she can think about is the moment when she will get out of this hell.
And then she does, and she's staring at Rose - Rose, her daughter, her wonderful, perfect, amazing daughter.
"She's beautiful," Ron says in complete awe as he stares down at this human they've made. Hermione agrees wholeheartedly.
:-:
"We have something we'd like to tell everyone," Ron says carefully. Instantly all heads swivel towards him. He gulps.
"Well," he begins, but -
"I'm pregnant!" Hermione blurts suddenly, then covers her mouth, blushing.
For a moment, there is only widened eyes and shocked silence, and then the table practically erupts in excitement, and the only lifeline Ron has is Hermione's hand, clutching his tightly.
:-:
He's in a daze the entire day, everything a swirl of gold and silver and flowers.
He should've never allowed his Mum to decorate.
The only time he's completely focused is when he looks into her deep brown eyes and says, "I do."
And when he kisses her, of course.
:-:
Hermione bites on the end of her quill anxiously, staring at the empty piece of parchment in her hand. Best Man? Maid of Honor? Bridesmaids? Flower Girl? Ring Bearer?
She's waited her entire life for her wedding day, and now, the only spots filled are Bride and Groom.
"What're you doing?" Startled, Hermione looks up as Ron enters the room, hanging his coat up and sliding into the seat beside her.
"Oh," she answers. "Just trying to decide who should be the Best Man, and so on. It's harder than it looks, actually - "
"Best Man?" Ron looks at her strangely. "Isn't that obvious?"
"It should be," she points out. "But it's not."
"Harry, Hermione," her fiancee says. "Harry."
"But - what about George? He's always wanted to be a Best Man, you know that, he told us - "
"I realize that you don't want to hurt George's feelings, Hermione, but it's been three and a half years." Ron lowers his voice. "I wish Fred was here, too, but that doesn't mean George is going to give me everything I want."
"You're right," she admits, sighing. "You're right. Harry it is."
"Perfect." He smiles, kissing her nose. "Now, the others. Maid of Honor is your choice, but I'd pick Ginny. Luna and Angelina would be fine as bridesmaids. Flower Girl is obviously Victoire, do we have any other beautiful, two-year-old blonds? And Teddy is perfect Ring Bearer."
For a moment, Hermione is still, gazing up at her husband-to-be. "You're brilliant," she says finally. "You're completely brilliant, Ron!"
"Never thought I'd hear those words come out of Hermione Granger's mouth." Ron grins, and then he tilts her chin up and kisses her.
:-:
"Hermione Jean Granger," he says, as if reciting a prayer. "I love you - I love you a lot. We've been through so much together - good and bad - and I figure, why stop now?" He chuckles. "But, really, Hermione. This is.. this is me, asking you a very important question: Will you marry me?"
Finally, finally, something is going like she planned! A proposal by the sea, and Ron, and a beautiful ring, golden and shiny and gleaming.
"Yes," she answers, throwing herself into his arms. He holds her tightly.
When they return to Shell Cottage, the entire family is waiting for them, some eager, some bouncing up and down with excitement, some hiding smiles.
"I'm marrying Hermione!" Ron exclaims, holding up her hand as if declaring her the winner, the diamond ring glittering in the sunlight.
:-:
"How could you forget our anniversary?" Her tone is seething.
"I'm sorry," Ron pleads. "I didn't mean to - I got held up - "
"What were you doing?"
"Shopping."
"For?"
"It doesn't matter, Hermione, we're already late, let's go before they give the table to someone else!" She looks away for a moment, crossing her arms, providing him with the perfect chance to slip the ring-shaped box he'd purchased into his pocket.
"Fine," she answers in a small voice, turning back to look him in the eye. "I just wanted today to be perfect."
"It will be!" He swoops down and kisses her cheek. "We'll go to Shell Cottage after, alright? I have a present for you."
"After making me wait twenty minutes for you, Ronald, you'd better have a present."
:-:
It's a battle, to find her parents, and then to convince them that no, they are not crazy. It's a battle for her to reverse the spell, to give her parents their lives back.
But now, she has, and looking at Ron shaking her father's hand, she thinks she has never been this proud of herself, ever.
And of Ron, of course.
:-:
"Hermione," he begins nervously. "About what happened..during the battle..I - "
"It's fine." Her voice is steely; she's prepared this speech each day since Voldemort's defeat. "I'm sorry, Ron, it was a heat of the moment thing - "
"It was?" He looks - disappointed?
"Well," she continues. "If you want it to be."
He smiles softly. "I want to be our first kiss of many."
"Really?" Now, her voice is ecstatic.
"Yeah," he continues. "And this is our second."
He takes her lips and crashes them to his and this is what she's been dreaming of for so long.
:-:
"She loves you, you know." Harry looks over at his best friend.
"She does?" There's a hopeful spark in Ron's eyes that isn't there often.
"Yeah," he answers. "A lot, trust me."
"I love her, too."
"I sure hope so - you aren't going to break my sister's heart."
"As long as you don't break mine's."
"I would never."
"Then it's settled, mate - we'll all be together, forever."
"Perfect." The two grin at each other, and downstairs, Hermione and Ginny conclude a similar conversation.
:-:
She doesn't know what's come over her, but suddenly, she's leaping up and she's kissing Ron.
Hermione will never admit that she'd fantasized about this moment.
In her fantasies, though, neither of them had been covered in blood or grime or dirt, and in her fantasies there weren't basilisk fangs at her feet.
In her fantasies, Harry hadn't been standing beside them, overwhelmed, and in her fantasies, there wasn't a war going on, just outside there little bubble of Ron and happiness and Ron.
But somehow, these things only make the moment more perfect.
:-:
She stands, beside Ron and Harry, watching as the D.A. welcomes them back.
There is a battle brewing, she knows. It is coming, closer with each passing second.
Hermione will fight, she will fight hard, she will show no mercy. After all, she has only one weakness; the red-haired boy beside her.
:-:
One part of her is happier than she's ever been, and the other part is angrier than she's ever been.
He's back.
That, in itself, means that Hermione has a decision to make.
Anger or happiness? Is he trustworthy?
Does she still love him?
:-:
After being attacked by a basilisk, breaking her best friend's wand - by accident, of course - and narrowly escaping death in the hometown of said best friend's parents' deaths, it is safe to that Hermione is not in a good mood.
Harry's constant screams don't make things any easier. She's taken his shirt off, severed the locket off of his chest, heaved him into a bed, and now she's watching him.
There is a part of her, she knows, that loves Harry; sadly, the other, bigger, real part of her mangled heart belongs to a prat.
A prat by the name of Ron Weasley. She braces herself not to cry as she relives the night he left - left the mission, left Harry, left her.
Hermione wishes that she could love Harry with all her heart. It would be so easy, so very easy to kiss him. To tell him she loves him. But it wouldn't be right.
As much as she loves Harry, she loves Ron a hell of a lot more, and she wishes that she could be proud of that fact, in a tent in the snow with Harry and without Ron.
:-:
The rain is pouring as fast and hard as her tears as she runs after him, into the night.
"Ron - stop, you can't leave! We promised Harry - Ron, please!"
He turns around and looks at her - just looks at her, the most devastating and heart-shattering expression on his face she's ever seen.
"Ron, please don't leave me," Hermione pleads, but Ron is nowhere in sight.
:-:
"Do you think we'll make it?" Ron wonders aloud. He's on the floor beside her; he'd insisted she sleep on the couch.
"I think it's worth a try," she answers, after thinking, and he takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly, as if to say, Me, too.
They fall asleep that way.
:-:
The dance is slightly awkward; Ron's blundering feet are one matter to contend with, but the way he's looking at her is also a bit outputting.
"D'you - d'you know why I asked you to dance?" He finally breaks the silence between them. It is a bit strange, she supposes, to be quiet when all around them, the noise of a wedding is blaring.
"Not exactly, no," she says, tinging pink.
"Because I don't like you dancing with Krum." Ron takes a deep breath. "Dance with anyone you like, alright, just - not him."
Hermione is tempted to argue - Viktor is her friend, and they can dance if they like - but the moment is so near perfect that she doesn't.
Ron is acting jealous. That's a good sign, if anything.
A slow song comes on, and Ron goes to pull away, blushing, but she doesn't let him, placing her hand against his chest and closing her eyes.
"Okay," she says.
Smiling, he rests his chin gently on her hair.
:-:
"We're going with you, Harry," Ron says. "Get that through your thick skull."
"Yeah, Harry," she continues. "We wouldn't leave you."
She sends a sidelong glance at Ron. Or each other.
:-:
Watching him kiss Lavender, she feels like she wants to retch.
How dare he! After all they'd been through, after all she'd planned.. he'd showed signs before - he was almost there, they were so close -
And that was when she came into the picture, and Hermione was thrown out of it.
:-:
Hermione glances over at Harry, who is glancing over at Ginny, not quite subtly.
She smiles at she eyes the adoring look in her friend's eyes - Harry is smitten, completely and utterly smitten. Still smiling, she turns away, only to see Ron, playing checkers with Parvati Patil. The smile leaves her face almost immediately.
Sighing, Hermione looks back at Harry, staring at Ginny, and then at Ron, eyes only for the board. She sighs, once more.
If only.
:-:
Krum is a git, Ron decides. I don't like him.
I especially don't like him flirting with Hermione.
:-:
"You're the best, Hermione." Ron grins at her lazily.
"The best at Charms homework, you mean."
He just keeps grinning. "I love you, Hermione."
Ron doesn't seem to realize the meaning of what he's said - he probably says it all the time - as he starts a game of Exploding Snap with Harry and the twins, but Hermione does, and her cheeks remain pink a long while later.
:-:
He never thought he'd think this, but Hermione is pretty when she sleeps.
Of course, she's not sleeping now, she's Petrified, but he likes to pretend she's asleep. It's much easier, much less..painful.
Wake up soon, he thinks to her unmoving body. I need your help, with - with everything.
:-:
Hermione looks across the table, disgust clear on her face. Her bushy hair is splayed out behind her, eyes wide, mouth twisted, nose wrinkled.
"Wha'?" Ron asks, his mouth full, still grabbing more and more food and shoveling it onto his plate. No wonder the Slytherins don't like us, Hermione thinks, as Harry smirks from beside the red-headed travesty.
She shakes her head. "You are a despicable human being, Ronald Weasley," she says.
Ron doesn't answer, presumably because his mouth is too full.
She's already returned to her food, but if she'd look up, she'd have seen that Ron is still watching her, an expression of confusion and annoyance and most of all, wonder, on his face.
:-:
a/n: please, don't favorite/follow without reviewing!