Written on behalf of House Mizu (Mahoutokoro) for the Golden Snitch's "May the Fourth Be With You" Challenge.
Dialogue Prompt: "Use your wand, _."
Word Count: 658 (not including A/N)
A/N: I'm not a huge Ron/Hermione fan, but when I saw this prompt no one else's name but Ron belonged there. It also echoed of the first year's 'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?' query from Philosopher's Stone. With those two echoes plugging away at my brain, this is what came out.
"Hermione, have you seen my cufflinks?"
The curly-haired witch looked in the mirror and sighed. She'd tried for years to style her hair with magic, but her curls made such shortcuts impossible. Moreover, the chignon she was attempting took both her hands and at least half her concentration.
Conversations with Ron either took no concentration, or all of it. Her gut told her this was the latter.
"When was the last time you wore them, Ron?"
"I dunno… Harry and Ginny's wedding? No, the Ministry Yule Ball. Or was it…" He furrowed his brow and started digging through the top drawer of their bureau.
She watched her husband and her frustration turned to affection. Sometimes she looked at him and saw his father, forgetful and slightly bumbling, but sweet and warm and so dedicated to his family. He had taken to wearing his hair long, to his shoulders, and clipping it back with a leather thong, as was the fashion in the post-war years. He bore a few scars from the war, and would probably always walk with a slight limp, but she was far from perfect herself.
She rubbed her left forearm. Far, far from perfect.
Was it only ten years ago when she had met the bumbling red head on the Hogwarts Express? There was the initial but brief animosity between them, which didn't survive their defeat of, of all things, a renegade troll. One smuggled dragon and set of wizarding tasks later…
Hermione grinned and turned to her husband.
"Are you a wizard or not?" she asked.
Ron looked up at her, confused.
"Use your wand, Ron."
His eyes lit up. "Accio cufflinks!"
From down the hall the pair of silver cufflinks zoomed into Ron's outstretched hands. He smirked and held them up. "Definitely a wizard."
Hermione eyed him, then turned back to her mirror and her hair. "If I went down the hall right now, what are the odds the ice box would be open?" Other discoveries in their icebox had included his wand, a Canons scarf, and, after one particularly rough Remembrance Ball, a shoe.
She caught his smile in the mirror as he glanced at her. "That's a fool's bet, and I'm not taking it."
A half hour later, Hermione took a long look at herself. Not too shabby, she thought. She certainly wasn't the waif she'd been on the run, foraging for mushrooms and edible plants. No, years of Molly Weasley's cooking and a wonderful lack of duels-to-the-death had her filling out her dress nicely.
She met Ron in the front hall of their apartment. He held out her cloak for her. "You look lovely."
She tugged at his tie and straightened the front of his cloak. "You look quite dashing yourself. The groom might be a little jealous, as you'll be the most handsome man there."
"It still shocks me to my core Neville ended up with Daphne Greengrass."
Hermione shrugged. "Neville grew up. Daphne made friends outside the dungeons. They're a lovely couple, and they're both very lucky." She leaned up for a quick peck on his cheek. "But not quite at lucky as me."
Ron grinned and leaned in for a kiss. "That's because you finally sorted out your priorities."