A/N: So I realized I had five days to write the usual crappy Singles' Awareness Day oneshot, and I immediately grabbed my book of writing tips and prompts and things, and after several attempts I flipped to the page that said, "Write an argument between two characters that begins in bed." With the prompt having the word argument in it, there was really only one pairing I could do, amirite? :3 So yeah, this happened, probably rubbish, don't care, got another pairing I like done. Might do Harry/Ginny next year, we'll see.
Oh, and Crookshanks's behavior was based on my own cat. Teddy makes things VERY difficult sometimes at three in the morning, let me tell ya. He's so cute, let's eat him. :D
WARNING: THIS ONESHOT CONTAINS BLATANT HETEROSEXUAL SITUATIONS AND THOUGHTS AND VARIOUS OTHER POTTED PLANTS. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU IN ANY WAY, PLEASE FIND SOME OTHER OF THE THOUSANDS OF THE DAY'S ONESHOTS THAT BETTER SUITS YOUR TASTES OR AT LEAST MAKE YOUR FLAMES ENTERTAINING TO READ.
Disclaimer: Even with all this current controversy going on, again, that I've largely stayed away from, I've always had faith in Ron/Hermione. It's absurdly simple for me, possibly more so than other R/Hr shippers: my mother's highly intelligent, slightly uptight, and can go on for hours about any one topic, while my father is very laid back, smarter than people give him credit for, and is always trying to make us laugh. They have petty arguments all the bloody time…and yet their thirty-first anniversary is going to be on this St. Patrick's Day. It's possible, people. Thank you, JK Rowling, for essentially writing my parents into your books. It's not creepy at all. XD
Ron had never entirely kicked the habit of Apparating directly onto the front step of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Though they lived in a time of peace and though so many people knew of its location that the Fidelius Charm placed upon it had practically been cancelled, it still brought some small sense of security to him for whatever reason. One old habit that was still unfortunately necessary was having to keep quiet in the front hall as he crept by Mrs. Black's portrait, though he remembered that Dean had offered to paint something right over it if given the chance and suitable ear plugs. Making a mental note to run that idea by Harry the next time he saw him, Ron pushed open the door to the kitchen. He thought he saw Hermione slumped over the kitchen table with her head in her hands, but she quickly looked up and started going through several large books that were spread out in front of her and jotting something down on a piece of paper, her quill moving rapidly.
"You're home early," she said brightly once she'd finished, gathering up several scrolls of parchment at once and moving them to a different, heaping pile of paperwork on the other side of the table.
"Actually, I'm just on time for once," Ron replied jokingly, brushing off his robes a bit more. "Weird, I know." He looked around. "Harry already went off to see Teddy, then?"
"Yes, he's staying at Andromeda's for the weekend again. Oh, and Ginny sent you a letter from Killarney," Hermione went on, handing him a smaller roll of parchment. "I think she said something last week about training with the team until Tuesday and coming back late on Wednesday or something, the details might be in the letter."
"Ta," said Ron, breaking the seal and unfurling it. The letter confirmed what Hermione had just said, and also included a funny little anecdote about former Cannons Chaser Gorgorvitch trying to drunkenly hit on one of the Harpies' Beaters and having to be escorted from the bar, his face covered in oozing purple pustules. "So how was your day?" he asked out of habit, fully prepared to zone out as he scanned the rest of Ginny's letter.
"I went out to a few Muggle bookstores today, grabbing a few books on law and the like," Hermione explained, indicating several disturbingly large stacks of volumes perched precariously on three different chairs next to her. "I've been thinking about starting a written comparison between Muggle and wizard law, did you know that no one's attempted that in the past four decades or so, and no one's ever even tried to implement any changes in centuries — well, no changes that would actually benefit anyone aside from moneyed purebloods, anyway. And with all that happened with people like Sirius and Stan Shunpike and a rather unfortunately large amount of other examples, people still aren't entirely assured of due process, and now that we're finally nearly done weeding out the most egregiously corrupt and replaced them with people who'd actually listen, we might finally be able to go forward and make some proper changes. I really wanted to see what could be implemented from certain Muggle legal systems, you know, of course Muggle governments in the vast majority of the western world aren't entirely perfect, especially when it comes to treating all walks of life fairly, but it's still a damn sight better than the wizarding world at the moment, even now…"
Ron let her voice wash over him as he went about the kitchen and threw a sandwich together, wolfing it down even though he didn't feel all that hungry but knowing that Hermione would comment on it if he didn't at least appear as though he'd had a normal day. He offered to make her one, but she shook her head and indicated a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to a plate that had already been picked clean by the look of it. He pulled his wand and made it float to the sink for her. She smiled gratefully, and was apparently done talking as she buried herself in her books once more.
Ron loved watching her work. Her single-minded focus as she threw herself into a task was just so mesmerizing somehow. He could never explain it, not even to himself, but there was just something that would forever draw her to him. He had to admit that it was slightly annoying in the past, but he figured that was because he had the exact same homework assignments that she did. Now that they were entrenched in vastly different careers, he was able to appreciate it a whole lot more, and could easily watch her go through reams of paperwork for hours, occasionally being a soundboard for her to bounce ideas off of, and notifying her of the time when he seriously thought she needed a break.
He let her work until it was past ten before gently suggesting that they should turn in for the night. She jolted when she realized how late it was, and Ron smothered a grin, knowing it annoyed her. He helped her sort out a couple of piles and clean up a bit before they trekked upstairs together. He opened the door to the bedroom they'd been sharing over the past year whenever they could, waving his wand to light the lamps as he entered. His eyes immediately fell upon a very obvious lump under the covers. He rolled his eyes and placed his wand on the bedside table, pulling the covers back to reveal Crookshanks, squinting up at him in the lamplight.
"Oi," said Ron grumpily, "I get to sleep there, not you." He picked him up, ignoring the mewls of protest, and placed him, rather more gently than he normally would have, onto a chair that he knew for a fact Crookshanks liked to curl up on sometimes. Crookshanks glared balefully at him, stood up on the chair, arched his back and stretched his legs, and jumped down. "Oh sure," Ron scoffed as he watched the cat walk away, "that's the thanks I get for trying to be nice, is it?"
Hermione giggled and reached down to pet the top of Crookshanks's head as he rubbed his side against her leg on the way out of the bedroom.
"You know, I think he's starting to get fond of me," Ron said brightly as he brushed some ginger cat fur off the sheets.
"Ron?"
He turned around to see Hermione still hovering in the doorway, her eyes lowered to the floor.
"Yeah?" he prompted.
"Can…" Hermione took a deep breath. "Can we…not…tonight?" Her voice suddenly sped up. "It's just that I've been working through all this legal stuff and—"
"No, it's all right," said Ron, raising his hand to stop her. "Really." He grinned wryly. "To be honest, I'm…not really in the mood either."
"Really?" said Hermione, an odd mixture of relief and puzzlement on her face as she came further into the room. "I thought you'd be…well…if George had let you get out early I'd assumed he'd had a good day for once."
"Just the opposite," said Ron gruffly, changing into his pajamas. He could faintly hear Hermione doing the same thing behind him. "Actually, he was…really bad today."
"What happened?"
"…He's getting better at faking a cheerful attitude for the customers," said Ron slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "But the happier he acts when the store's open, the more he blows up as soon as the closed sign flies up."
"But that's why you're always late, isn't it?" asked Hermione, coming to sit beside him. "Because you're helping him?"
"Lee came by just before the shop closed. When George lost it, he offered to take care of him for me."
"That was nice of him," said Hermione, waving her wand at the lamps. They dimmed instantly. "Has he done this before now?"
"He helps sometimes. Him or Angelina, but this is the first time he actually took over for me." He paused. "Is it weird that I'm a bit relieved he did that for me?"
"I don't think so," said Hermione matter-of-factly, slipping under the covers. "I mean, you've done so much for him already, helping out at the shop and everything."
"I know," said Ron heavily, settling in beside her. "I just…I miss Fred too, you know? I can't help feeling I'm letting him down by not being there for George when he needs me to be."
"But that doesn't mean you have to be around him twenty-four hours a day," said Hermione reasonably. "Even when Fred was alive, I'm sure they weren't constantly around each other."
"…They kinda were," Ron said softly. "There are times when George says something and it's as though he's waiting for Fred to finish the thought for him. I'm getting better, but…I'm not Fred, and George knows it."
Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"Just be there for him when he needs you to be, but make him understand that you both need space at times."
"…I'm sure you're right," said Ron, and Hermione beamed at him, snuggling down next to his shoulder and closing her eyes. Ron wrapped one arm around her, feeling the warmth of her body next to his, finally starting to relax. He closed his own eyes and felt Hermione shift beside him so that she was also lying on her back. His arm was now resting under her neck and was starting to lose feeling, but he didn't care. He'd nearly drifted off before Hermione spoke again.
"I spoke to my parents today."
Ron was instantly awake and rolled on his side to face her.
"You went to see them?" he prompted when she didn't elaborate immediately. "I thought…after your dad said…"
"I didn't go visit them this time, no, I spoke to them over the phone."
"…We don't have a phone."
"No, I used a payphone when I was out getting more law books today. It's my mum's birthday, and I just figured…"
She sighed heavily. Ron reached out a hand and began stroking her hair.
"So…what'd she say?" he asked at length.
Hermione sniffed.
"She's still on about how much they had to go through to gain their clients' trust back again," she said tremulously, "and I sort of…well, I kind of berated her for worrying over such a minor thing since I was so focused on saving their lives, and they're worried about their careers, and she bit my head off about how their lives are their careers, and didn't I have any consideration for what they wanted, and I said that I assumed they'd want to still be alive and breathing, and…and she said they're seriously considering going back to Australia."
"Because they still have friends there?"
"I don't know if they actually will, I mean, they at least gave some kind of excuse for leaving that they never told me about, but I made them leave Britain so suddenly…and Mum's still going on about how I wasn't eighteen yet, the fact that seventeen is the age of majority in the wizarding world doesn't matter to her, I'm still British so it should be eighteen no matter what…"
"It would've been horrible if we had to wait till we were eighteen to finally be able to do magic outside of school," said Ron, trying to lighten the mood. "Could you imagine all we would've had to go through that bloody camping trip from hell if we hadn't been able to use our wands at all, it would've been horrible."
"I just had to tell them about the camping," Hermione muttered.
"…Oh no," said Ron slowly, "they're not still on about that, are they? How many times do we have to tell them?! Nothing happened!"
"I know that, you know that, Harry knows that, and I'm pretty sure most of the wizarding world is finally beginning to acknowledge that with how public Harry and Ginny have been getting about their relationship."
"Don't remind me," said Ron grumpily. "I don't care if he'd just proposed, did they really have to snog that…ferociously when the Harpies beat the Prides last match?"
"But no matter how many times I say it, all Mum cares about is the fact that one young and apparently 'impressionable' woman was alone in a tent with two men for months at a time," Hermione went on, seemingly ignoring Ron. "No matter how many times I tell them that Harry was pining after Ginny the whole time and how you and I were constantly at each other's throats and half the time you weren't even there—"
Ron flinched. Hermione, close to tears at this point, didn't notice.
"—and finally I just asked her what I could do to make her trust me again and she says that she doesn't know, she and Dad don't even really know who they are anymore and they don't even know if I'm manipulating them right now, that they'll never know for sure and even if they were sure there's n-nothing they could d-do to st-stop me and she s-said to…she said n-not to call again and I…"
Ron didn't know when he'd wrapped his arms around Hermione but he was suddenly conscious of her sobbing into his chest and gripping his arms for dear life.
"Shh…" he murmured into her hair. "It's okay…it's okay…If you ask me, you're well shot of them anyway…"
The sobs suddenly stopped.
"What," said Hermione quietly.
"Well, you're making all this effort to be in their lives and they're clearly not having any of it…Could it be any more obvious that they don't deserve you?"
"They're my parents!" she said tremulously, ripping herself out of his arms and sitting up, glaring at him in the darkness. "I don't care if they deserve me or not, I'm not going to just give up on them!"
"Well, maybe you should," said Ron, sitting up as well.
"How can you say that?!" she yelled. "I still love them, Ron, how can you possibly—"
"No, I meant maybe if you make a big show of giving up on them, they'll realize what a mistake they've made and beg you for their forgiveness or something—"
"And what if they don't?!" cried Hermione, starting to hyperventilate. "What if they never contact me again? What if we never make up…" She sniffled softly.
Ron sighed and placed his hand on her knee.
"Maybe just…try and at least lay off the attempted calls and visits and things…maybe they'll start to realize how much they miss you then…"
"I have been," Hermione whispered. "I haven't contacted them nearly as often as when they first came back—"
"It's still more than twice a month, though, isn't it? I mean, even when Percy wasn't talking to us, even Mum backed off after a while…This just kind of reeks of desperation—"
"I am that desperate!" Hermione burst out, furiously wiping her face with the back of her hand. "At least your family has never wanted to exclude you like this! Everyone's still as together as they can be and they even accepted Percy back after everything! And they would never treat you like that unless you did something truly horrible and even then they'd probably forgive you in the end—"
"Well, George told me today that I should've been the one to die instead of Fred, so at least your parents haven't gone that far yet!"
He'd succeeded in shocking her into silence. Ron looked away from her and stared at his knees. His eyes started stinging; he blinked ferociously to try and prevent a complete breakdown. He didn't know how long they sat like that before Hermione finally found her voice again.
"I know he said that to Percy last Christmas, but I didn't think…"
"Both me and Percy were there with Fred when it happened," said Ron gruffly. "As far as George is concerned it should've been either of us, he doesn't care, he just wants Fred back."
"…Harry and I were there as well. Does that mean he wishes we were dead as well?"
"You know he partially blames Harry for not going to Voldemort sooner, nearly everyone's angry at him for being the only one to come back to life, Harry most of all, I think."
"But he told Harry he didn't blame him, weren't he and Dennis the only ones to do so, even Andromeda was angry with him at first but she came around, didn't she?"
"Sure, he and Dennis said that, and Dennis might well have meant it, but I'm fairly certain I know when my brothers are lying to someone else's face."
"…That's horrible," said Hermione softly.
"Yeah, well, that's exactly what I've put up with for the past several months," said Ron flatly. He shook his head. "Thank Merlin for little Victoire taking everyone's minds off everything. George is of course still upset that Fred'll never be an uncle, but at least he's more sad than angry in her presence, you're not really allowed to be angry around an infant, are you. Fleur'd rip his face off, for one thing, and there's no telling what Bill would add to that…I'm thinking about taking him 'round Shell Cottage immediately after work more often, it's really seemed to help the last few times I've tried that…"
Hermione placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.
"Is this — Is this the first time George has said — that — to you?" she asked tentatively.
"Fourth," said Ron, his fist clenching the blankets. "Though this time he tacked on a lovely little 'No one'd miss you' on the end of it, and that's when Lee said I should leave, thank God…"
"Well, he's wrong about that," said Hermione, her voice sounding considerably more confident. "I, for one, would definitely miss you. As would Harry, your parents, your other siblings, Hagrid, Neville, Luna; the list of your friends goes on almost indefinitely." She paused. "And I have a feeling that George would, too. I think he's just lashing out at you because you're a convenient target."
Ron grunted noncommittally, but before Hermione could go on, Crookshanks chose that moment to push the door open; it looked like Hermione had left it open a crack again so he could still get in. Ignoring Ron's annoyed exclamation of "Oi!" he stepped into the room, sniffed around at the floor, rubbed his side against the door, and walked out again.
"Bloody cat," Ron muttered, grabbing his wand from the bedside table and waving it at the door to shut it. Crookshanks immediately started pawing at the door again. Ron rolled his eyes. "Make up your ruddy mind already!" he yelled at the door. Crookshanks meowed louder in response.
Hermione giggled. Ron smiled at her in the darkness, glad that their argument appeared to be over, at least for the moment.
"You know," he began, then paused, wondering if she would get upset that he was bringing this back up. "When we picked your parents up from Australia, they seemed quite fond of Crookshanks, didn't they?"
"Mm," said Hermione, tensing beside him.
"But they did give him back to you when you asked them to."
"…They did, didn't they." He could just barely see her smiling back at him. They settled back under the covers, Hermione now flat-out using Ron's arm as a pillow. Crookshanks eventually gave up on trying to get back in the room and slunk off to explore the rest of the house for the dozenth time. Hermione sighed deeply, listening to Ron's even breathing beside her. She was almost asleep at last when Ron spoke once more.
"…Hermione?"
"Mm?"
"I can't feel my arm."
Hermione burst out laughing.
A/N: I love how most of the stuff I write for V-Day isn't actually that romantic. X3
Review or Crookshanks will annoy you all night.