Whenever there was a family function at the Burrow, guitars were brought out. Ron would always borrow George or Bill's, and pluck out a few tunes. He was actually quite good, a skill you would never know he possessed unless you attended such an event. Hermione always said that her one regret was that she never learned to play an instrument growing up. She had been too busy with her studies. Little did she know that for their second anniversary, she would be getting a beautiful rosewood Fender guitar of her very own.
Ron had wrapped a large yellow bow across the body of the guitar, and it draped rather pathetically. He hadn't done a great job with it, there was a bit too much ribbon at the end, a tad long. But, I mean, he was a guy. Well, he was Ron.
He had quietly left the present on his side of the bed, sort of taking his place. He wanted Hermione to wake up to it. As well as, it gave him an excuse to wake up early, and watch his wife sleep.
He sat in an old chair near his nightstand and allowed himself to truly take in every piece of Hermione. He starred at her face the longest. She always looked so calm when she slept, and although most people had a downturn to their mouths when they slept, Hermione had a tiny smile. Her eyelashes were beautiful and long, her curly hair was tucked into a loose bun. She'd taken to wearing Ron's boxers to bed, which he could just make out from the sort of folds they created in the sheets. And she was wearing one of those always too large t-shirts that had a charity's name on it. This one had something to do with house elves.
Ron studied her breathing pattern, watching as her back and shoulders rose and fell. She didn't normally sleep on her side, but within the past couple months she'd sort of had to. You see, underneath those thin sheets, lay Hermiones new, crescent-shaped tummy; she was about six months along.
As he was beginning to study her curved hips, Hermione started to stir. She twisted onto her back and yawned. She put her hands on her stomach, smiled, and went back on her side again. Ron giggled. She was always doing that, rubbing her stomach. Almost as though she were so pleased to be pregnant that she needed to remind herself every few hours that it were so. Sometimes he caught her just starring at her stomach, almost as though she was hoping she could see through it to her future daughter.
Apparently Ron's small laugh had awoken Hermione, and she opened her eyes slightly, then rubbed them. Her eyes widened once she saw the instrument, and she shot up straight, smiling, her mouth wide open.
"Ron!" She squealed. She looked as happy as a child on Christmas.
Ron smiled, and leaned over towards Hermione and kissed her. He got onto the bed, and placed the guitar into her lap. She untied the ribbon and let it fall onto the floor. The guitar up against her stomach, but that didn't seem to bother her very much.
"But Ron, I don't even know how to play it. Chords and what not." She put her hands on the strings at the top of the neck and began to strum obnoxiously.
Ron grabbed her hand to stop. "Alright there, rockstar. I'm almost certain you're upsetting our child like that."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then you help me."
"Alright." Ron scooted up behind Hermione. He could smell her strawberry and vanilla shampoo. He loved that smell. "Here." He wrapped his arms around her and put one hand on the strings over the sound hole. "Put your hand on top of mine, your fingers over my fingers. I'll move over the strings to make the chords."
"Okay."
"Alright, now, I am going to sing. And you are not allowed to laugh at me."
Hermione grinned and nodded her head. "Fine."
Ron pressed down two of Hermione's fingers, and after that, their hands quickly danced across the frets. They were quite literally, in perfect harmony as Ron began to croon. "Aaaaat last. My loooove has come along. Myyyy lonely days, are over. And life is liiiike a sooooong."
Hermione sang quietly along (once she realized what the song was… the song they had their first dance to at their wedding), trying to pick out another note that sounded good on top of Rons. It was difficult to keep her fingers on top of his, which caused a few sour notes, but she did her best. He was doing the hard work anyway, strumming and picking out the actual chords. She was just along for the ride, which she was fine with. Having her husband's gruff voice singing in her ear was something she'd secretly always loved. Maybe he would never sound like Frank Sinatra or John Mayer, but he was wonderful all the same. This was the same voice that had always been there to tell her that she looked nice when she felt awful, to reassure her when she was scared, and to read aloud to her on nights she had trouble falling asleep. Recently, this was also the voice that playfully spoke to her belly, and mused about his hopes for their future child.
Ron of course felt similar. He loved when Hermione sang as well, but it wasn't something she did on purpose. He had to sort of catch her doing it, usually while she folded laundry. Of course, he was equally fond of when she spoke. It was her voice after all, that he had followed to find her in the forest so many years ago. But to hear it with a melodic tone was like heaven to him.
There was something really profound about the song. It had been their wedding song for a reason. It seemed as though after all that they had been through, the years at Hogwarts, and the War, that after all of those horrible and terribly difficult times, there was finally a time for moments like this. Little moments. They could snuggle up in their home and play a silly love song together. Something so simple, that they both knew they were lucky to have. They had really earned this solace. And to think that it took all of those years and all of those things to make them realize their feelings? It just made them sigh with relief. At last.
They finished off the song, "For you are miiiiiine at laaaaaast." And Ron kissed Hermione's head. "Did'ja think she liked it?"
Hermione put Ron's hand on her belly, and sure enough, there was a small kick.
"Very much." She beamed. Ron blushed.
"Ron, this is lovely." She put the guitar on the edge of the bed. "But… why did you get it for me?"
"You said you always wanted to learn to play." Ron began massaging Hermione's shoulders.
"Right," she scrunched her eyebrows, "But why today?"
"Well, 'Mionie," He started squeezing both of her shoulders over and over. "It's our anniversary."
Hermionie's mouth dropped. Shit.
"Oh my gosh, Ron!" She stood up from the bed." I completely forgot! I've just been so stressed out getting ready for the baby and everything. I…" She ran her fingers through her hair, frazzled. "I didn't get you anything."
Ron chuckled softly, and Hermione immediately felt even worse.
"I'm so sorry, you know it's not as though I meant to! I've just been so busy." She started pacing back and forth. "I'm doing this thing called "nesting" where I'm just getting ready for the baby, I mean it's all I can think about. Baby on the brain 24/7, and it's so much, but I can't really help it, it's just-"
Ron stood up, grabbed Hermione's face and kissed her. He always kissed her when she started to ramble. He knelt down to pick up the yellow ribbon from the floor, and began to straighten it out in his hands. He put his arms around Hermione, and brought the ribbon around her waist. Ron smiled at her, and Hermione giggled. Gently, he tied a big bow around Hermione's adorable pregnant belly, gracing her stomach lightly with his fingers as he did so, tickling Hermione slightly.
"You are currently giving me the best present I could ever ask for." He smirked, his eyes bright with happiness.
Hermione put her hands over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. How had she won such a sweet and wonderful husband? She put her arms around his neck, bringing him closer and allowing her protruding stomach to touch his. She leaned up and kissed him.
Ron smirked at Hermione. "Let's just hope that you're better at making babies than you are at playing guitar." She playfully hit him.
