Hello, everybody. That's my little contribution to the day of love. A dear friend of mine looked over it. Thank you very much, Nicole.
Every remaining mistake belongs to me. Unfortunately the characters don't. Have fun!
Ronald Bilius Weasley was a tall skinny bloke with flaming red hair. His broad shoulders and elegant features emphasised his pureblood heritage, but were without the malice that was connected to such a noble background. He sat straight and proud on the ebony chair with the blood-red cushions, challenging his fate on the small but high table in front of him.
His sharp, light blue eyes detected the state of affairs swiftly and he was able to plan ahead of his opponent. He would be victorious once again.
"RON!" The high pitched shrieking made the new author of MagicalFiction 'RonWon' flinch. The flinch made the ink-pot fall over and the fallen ink-pot, well, made its way to ruin what he had written so far.
Trying to safe as much as possible, Ron mumbled aggravatedly: "Bloody fucking hell. Hermione, you bloody obnoxious banshee."
It was their last year at Hogwarts and Hermione had come up with a ridiculous tight study plan. So far Ron had managed to avoid half of it. The other half was mandatory homework by the professors that couldn't be avoided.
He had hoped that the ministry would be merciful and honour the Golden-War-Trio with a superb degree thanks to their achievements in preventing mad Voldy-Moldy to rule the world in terror. But a very unusually helpful and overlooking Hermione evoked the nagging feeling that she was responsible for the absence of a "really-good-auror-material" certificate for Ron and Harry, maybe even herself.
"Ron!" This time her voice was accommodated to human hearing again and much nearer than the last time. The urgent and somewhat ominous tone was a hint for Ron to put up his puppy-eyes look to prevent any kind of violence from Hermione. Lately she seemed to take a liking to hitting him on the upper arm with her fist. The first time didn't hurt, it was almost sweet, but with an efficiency and accuracy of a well oiled machine, Hermione managed to hit the same spot with the last hundred plus punches. A beautiful blue and purple rose now adorned his arm.
The quill gripped tightly in his hand, Ron turned his chair around, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in astonishment: "Yes, Mione? Did I do something wrong?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked even more suspiciously at him. She knew him too well after six years of trying to trick her into doing his work to not recognise false innocence.
She approached him slowly like a predator. Ron felt his cheeks redden with the possibilities of certain most welcomed outcomes. He missed her lips since the last weekend, when she decided it was too distracting from studying and they should restrain from kissing during the week.
It was a totally stupid arrangement in Ron's opinion, but he put up with it. She promised to spend the Christmas Holidays with him and a maximum of two hours a day studying. If that wasn't love on both of their sides he didn't know what would be.
Hermione haltered deliciously close between his legs and leaned in, her face inching closer with every breathless second. Ron watched her brown eyes approach. She had a beautiful eye colour, no specs and no change, it was an even plane of melted milk chocolate within a dark chocolate cup. Ron was hungry.
Hermione raised her hand and snatched the piece of paper from his desk, reading the few lines in seconds.
Ron used the moment to hug her near, his face buried below her bossom, one arm beneath and one arm above her buttocks. One of her hands started to pet him. Her fingers combed through his hair, massaging his scalp and neck.
Her voice was soft and warm when she talked to him next. "Hey Ron. Have you finished your Transfiguration essay, yet?" Ron rubbed his nose in denial on her tummy. She continued in the same soothing manner: "Why do you deem your heroic chess matches a much more important matter than the energetic stability of inanimate objects?"
Ron let his head fall backwards without letting go of her, a pout on his lips. "Because I understand chess rules just fine. But the insufficient matter-energy ratio while transforming organic material to silicon based material is just too boring and I can't see the importance of it at all."
Hermione put the sheet back on the table and reached for the sides of Ron's head. "I'm very proud of you for knowing the essential part of the essay." And finally after a long period of abstinence her lips connected with his. It was a soft kiss, no tongue, but it made his heart flutter against his ribcage.
Instantly Ron stood up and pulled her flush to his body, increasing their contact and the intensity of the kiss. Hermione was a lot smaller than himself and he had to lift her a bit to make the position comfortable.
Not as comfortable as he thought, because too early Hermione motioned to break away.
"That was bloody brilliant. Please let's continue." Ron mumbled into her hair inhaling the scent of her shampoo mixed with Hermione-essence, rubbing her arms in slow cycles.
Hermione snuggled into him enjoying the warmth, but didn't forget her mission. "You know that you will have to read at least two abstracts, before you can finish your essay."
Ron frowned "Really? Two? Ballocks!" Hermione punched him in response, right on the mark. "Ron! At least watch your language a little bit!" She stepped back towards the stairs to the common room and suggested over her shoulder: "If you come down with me, I'll show you where to look for what you need."
Ron was sure he would have followed her with a lot of complaints a year ago, but the way her hair waved on her back enchanted him to follow her quietly, silently praying she knew exactly what he needed. He felt his blood and magic boil in his veins. She was a witch for sure.
The night was dark. The moon and the stars hid behind a solid wall of clouds. The old trees scraped over the windows like the hands of an old woman digging for worms in the frozen earth.
The white skin of the girl was illuminated in the light of several candles. She hung from chains, being only able to kneel or to stand up. The white dress dangled from her limbs in shreds. Her hair hid the beautiful face behind a thick curtain of lovely brown curls. In her helplessness and purity she was the most beautiful living being he had ever seen.
The urge to save her fought against the wish to imprint her picture to his memory. But his moral finally won when her head lolled on her shoulders and her soft whimper washed over his ears.
"Kinky Weasley. I would never have guessed." The drawl came from his right ear and belonged to the most annoying person of the whole castle since Snape was dead.
"Well, Malfoy. I'm impressed with your ability to respect other peoples' privacy." Ron wanted to say more and yearned to punch him, too, but Harry had made this stupid truce with Malfoy, while rebuilding Hogwarts. And Ron, during an absence of common sense, had agreed to accept it and to go along. But Harry and Malfoy even acted as if they liked each other in public. Ron wasn't sure if he was able to be friendly with Malfoy of all people, but he got used to the prat over the last month, in small doses.
"You know me, Weasley, I live to stun. But if you really wanted privacy, you shouldn't seek it in a public library." The drawl, underlined with an obvious smugness, made Ron cringe and roll his eyes.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" He hoped that Malfoy had a different motive than plain talking to him, Ron's mind flooded with reasons, which pointed out the wrongness of that situation.
Malfoy huffed indignantly and sat on the chair next to him. He seemed to gather courage, while draping his robe around his frame in an aristocratic and completely conceited manner.
When Malfoy finally looked up Ron raised an eyebrow at the faint blush on the pale boy's cheeks. "What Christmas presents did you get for Harry in the last years?"
Ron goggled. "Come again?" Ron met the same incredulous look he believed on his own face.
"I hope you are aware that I used proper English. Anymore help to understand your mother-tongue and they forbid you to use the loo on your own." Malfoy snarled and stood up. Midway Ron's hand clasped his arm and prevented him from storming away. He still hated the git, but the bloke had actually shown a cute side.
"I understood you. Why do you want to know?" Malfoy blushed even more and his ears competed with the embers in the fireplace. He sat back and positioned himself meekly, head bowed down and his hand fidgeting with the hem of his robe.
Finally he mumbled in a low voice: "I wondered what I should buy him for Christmas."
His whole demeanour was absurd and Ron inquired with a grave voice. "It's November."
Malfoys head snapped up. "Yes, I know! It's horrible! I even found something appropriate for my mother. And the gifts for you and Granger I have bought two weeks ago, but I'm out of my wits for Harry."
"Right." Ron's voice was deadpan. Shocked, he squinted his eyes at Malfoy.
The bastard got him a present.
Then he took a look around the room. There were two Ravenclaws and a Slytherin. Not potential allies, but still eye witnesses in case Malfoy became violent. Ron was speechless when he examined Malfoy, who seemed in the process of ripping his hair out. Malfoy was a mess.
"Well, I got him something Quidditch related, you know he loves to fly." Instead of a thankful look and a most wanted snotty exit, Malfoy put his head on the table and sighed.
"Malfoy?" Ron scanned the surroundings again, hoping for someone to help. "Hey, Malfoy," he urged "Draco!" He clapped his hand over his mouth in surprise. Thankfully Malfoy had a similar reaction to this new degree of intimacy and looked up. His eyes adapted an interested gleam and he leaned in "Yes, Ronald?"
Ron went green. This was so wrong. "I think we violated family rules just now." Ron choked a little on his words.
Malfoy laughed.
Ron stared, there was no other option. This was just too weird.
"Okay, Weasley. Here goes nothing. Would you please accompany me on the next Hogsmeade weekend to pick out a present for Harry?" Malfoy's voice was sincere and his eyes pleading. Ron gulped a bit of bile down, pondering if Hermione was a good enough excuse for Malfoy to give up on the notion.
"Okay. But I will take Hermione with me." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but nodded.
"Agreed, but no snog feasts." Ron put up a false apologetic face. "No can do. But you're welcome to look away should the occasion arise."
"Ha ha. Weasley. Whatever. Meet me at 10 am in the Entry Hall." And off he stormed in a perfectly composed manner.
Unable to concentrate on RonWon's masterpiece in the genre horror/romance, Ron followed Malfoy out of the library to go back to Gryffindor tower. Maybe the blonde git had a pleasant side after all.
The mighty sword slashed through the bare chest and stomach of the alien warrior. The scales of his skin lay around him in scattered rainbow colours. The beauty of the metallic highlights in between the thick black blood sang a song of victory and pride.
Ronan used his knife to slid open the torso and dug through the contents of the dead body. Finally he found two eggs with the same colouring as the scales connected to another gland. The shell of the eggs was hard, but the insides were a most desired potions ingredient. He lopped the channels at the gland and knotted the ends together. He wrapped them in a stained cloth and put them into a security-bag on his belt.
"Ron!" Harry groaned annoyed from his own four poster-bed. "It's past 3 am! Go to sleep! We have the pitch at 9."
"Yeah, yeah. Just a minute." Ron knew that, of course. He already told himself to stop writing three hours ago. It didn't work. At 1:30 he had even laid down and attempted to sleep, just to succumb to his restlessness and to get up again. He couldn't stop, not yet, when the ideas and words flew through his head and wanted to be expressed.
Maybe he should wank. After the day in Hogsmeade with Hermione and unfortunately with Malfoy, Ron had enough material on Hermione's lips and smell to accomplish satisfaction several times.
Hermione had grinned a lot today, due to the hilarious and pathetic act of Malfoy fretting from one choice to another. It was like shopping with two girls and Ron considered Malfoy crushing on Harry several times.
Hermione had radiated. It had been the first day of more amusement than study for her after weeks. She had laughed with dimples in her cheeks and a bell like sound in her voice. She had touched him with her soft hands multiple times and he had seen his desire reflected in her eyes.
His hand crawled under the waistband of his pants and lightly touched the side of his semi-hard penis. Ron wondered about how Hermione would touch him. Would she be hesitant or would she literally get a hold on him and never let go.
Ron's head fell back and he picked up the pace of his ministrations. He could remember the softness of Hermione's pretty lips and the peak of her tongue sneaking out to touch his mouth. And the soft rubbing and prodding against his own tongue.
"Mate!"
"SHITE!" Ron covered his nether region from view with his upper body and scowled over his shoulder at Harry, who stood much too near behind him. A cold shudder ran down his back, but unfortunately couldn't kill his erection. It kind of hurt.
Still agitated Ron hissed: "Fuck, Harry, what do you want?"
Harry had the most annoying smile on his lips, with definitely too much teeth. Harry tried to wipe it away with his hand, but didn't succeed. "You know Ron, it's impressive how comfortable you are around us, but you could at least 'release pressure' behind the curtains and a silencing charm." He motioned quotation marks with his fingers.
"What's up?" Of course Dean had to wake up and expand the audience. Ron shifted on his seat but noticed immediately, that it wasn't the best idea and suppressed a groan.
Harry sounded very smug and reached for the sheet of paper in front of Ron. "Ron wanked to…" He skimmed the story " an ugly bloke disembowelling other ugly blokes." He wrinkled his nose. "Are you okay, Ron?"
Ron snatched the sheet back and grumbled: "Ha ha. So funny. I wanked to the memories of Hermione. You sick bastards."
Dean turned around and grumbled "Urg. TMI, Ron!" Harry waved "Nighty night, Dean." and turned back to Ron, who still sat in an awkward position.
"Come on. Finish it off in the bathroom and go to sleep. I don't want you falling from your broom tomorrow."
Ron puffed loudly and nodded. "Aye, aye Captain. I'll go tame the snake." Ron stood up grumbling, Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Make it so, number one. Call me if it talks to you." He grinned at the annoyed Ron and hopped back into bed, drawing the curtains.
Harry's silly antics had increased in the last month. Ron was glad. After the war Harry had to overcome a lot of deaths, even his own. Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione were able to share some of the pain and managed fairly well to go on. Maybe the attachment to Malfoy was born from this. Ron didn't know and didn't care enough to ponder it any further, he had a more urgent problem to solve at the moment.
His member was on half-mast already, but Ron finished fairly quickly with glistening lips on his mind. He cleaned up and finally felt enough at peace to get some sleep.
He crawled under the blanket and worked his pillow into a pleasing form, before drifting into sleep.
Ice cold wind and rain scourged every uncovered surface. The giant bird under his knees struggled, its muscles quivering from fatigue and pain. Drenched in water and mud, the bird's feathers were on the verge of failing their purpose.
Ron-Lak was aware of the urgency of shelter, but wanted to leave the border a little further behind.
The enemy was exceptionally skillful in the trees and the open field. They merged with their surroundings and a useless hot-headed artist, like himself, wasn't suitable to survive fighting near the enemy's camps.
Ron-Lak finally acknowledged that he was a pathetic example of their proud tribe. This trip was the last straw. He would comply to the wishes of his father and start training with his brother. At last.
"Hey Bonbon!" Seamus threw a pillow at his head.
"What is it?" Ron ground his teeth, piercing Seamus with his most menacing glare.
Unfazed Seamus wiggled a bottle of fire-whisky and his eyebrows. "It's Christmas party night before the Hols, Bonbon. You said you'd get snacks from the kitchens. Remember?"
Ron remembered his special mission, but wasn't aware that it was already two days before Christmas break.
Christmas break. A lopsided grin spread and Ron dived into his sweet dreams with Hermione as co-star.
"Oi! You lecher! Stop being nasty in company of your mates, it's disturbing." Another pillow found its way to Ron. He got up and threw it back at Seamus. "You stop being stupid and get the others down and certain people up." Ron motioned significantly at the remaining fifth and sixth year students, before leaving the common room through the portrait.
On the way to the kitchen Ron mused about the gift for Hermione. It was a ring, he had created himself.
During the rebuild of Hogwarts he found some scraps of metal flying around in the room of hidden things. He wasn't sure if it could be considered stealing, but he had collected them anyway, hoping for the best.
In the end he couldn't have wished for more. It came out exactly as he intended. He retreated a beautiful cherry-wooden box from the hidden pocket in his robe.
It was a dice, the edges were 5 cm each. The top was decorated with tendrils and leaves, which were adorned with gleaming gold and green paint.
He opened the box and on a green cloth lay a delicate band. It was merged of three different colourings. Gold, silver and bronze. The thin wires entwined like snakes around a small pear shaped fragment of lava.
Ron felt inspired. He had a faint idea how "The Lord of the Rings" might have started.
His heart began beating furiously when he imagined the moment he would give it to Hermione. Her glistening eyes and blushed cheeks. A slightly disbelieving look in her eyes. Her arms around his neck.
"What a pretty engagement ring, Weasley. Granger will be delighted, I'm sure." Blaise Zabini walked nonchalant next to Ron and winked at him when Ron gasped for air to use his vocal cords.
"Wha…wha…en…en" Ron guessed that he was aware of his undignified lack of composure somewhere beneath the alarm bells and tumbling thoughts in his mind. Ron never thought of marriage while creating the ring.
Blaise gentlemanly took the box from his losing grip and inspected the gift further. "It's the work of an amateur and the reason to use a symbol of a cooled down destructive inferno is beyond me. Where did you get this?" Blaise's voice sounded irritated and Ron felt like punching him.
Ron buried his face in his hands and replied: "I made it myself. It's for Christmas, though."
Blaise clicked his tongue morosely. "Bad idea, Weasley. How are you gonna surpass the emotional level of this gift, when you finally fulfil her greatest dream and propose to her in earnest? You're a pureblood and you're nineteen, it's time."
Ron rolled his eyes "Oh, yeah? How is the name of your fiancée?"
Blaise smirked evilly. "I'm not sure, yet. Either Loraine, a very slender french pureblood witch, or " He paused dramatically. "Aurora."
Intrigued Ron probed for more "Aurora? What's with her? Fat and muggle born?"
Blaise hissed and pushed him into a wall, his forearm pressed on Ron's throat. "Watch your mouth. She is a beloved pure blood relative. Look at me Weasley, do you realise, that my family started breeding for beauty alongside of wealth more than a thousand years ago?"
Ron almost coughed out his next words . "I wasn't aware. Pity they didn't go for gentleness."
Blaise relaxed his posture. "Sorry, my friend." He patted Ron on the cheek. "Care for my advice?" Ron nodded reluctantly, he liked and trusted Blaise a lot more than every other Slytherin, his violent tendencies and sharp come backs were relicts of a past, when he knew where everyone stood.
Blaise wore an almost soft expression. "Get her a different gift or and propose with the ring." Then he smirked. "Unless you don't really love her and you would be able to see her be taken away by another, more serious bloke."
And off he stalked, robe billowing around him. Ron stood a moment utterly silent, before he called after him. "There's a Christmas party at the Gryffindor common room. If you're free, you should come." Blaise threw him a smile over his shoulder. "Mind if I bring some friends along?" Ron shook his head.
Alone in the now deserted corridor he remembered his duty. He continued his walk to the kitchens to visit Dobby, still considering Blaise's advice. The Slytherin had a point. Ron's own parents had got married right after school and they didn't even had to repeat a year like him. The only problem manifested in the way Hermione saw the world. Ron didn't consider her a witch with pureblood expectations and he certainly doubted that a talented witch like herself would reduce her dreams to something as simple minded as being a married mother. Hell, he didn't even know, if Hermione wanted kids at all.
Back in the common room with a lot of crackers, biscuits and non alcoholic beverages, he informed the other eight years of the invitation towards the Slytherins. Only Hermione's proud smile would have been enough, but Seamus promising to call him by his name the whole evening was something he had to take advantage of.
They drank and chatted till 4 am. Life was good.
The fat prince rolled over to grab a bowl of fruits, plucking grapes and throwing them past his obscenely reddened lips. He chewed loudly and some of the juice dribbled down the side of his mouth.
He wore golden robes with rubies and opals scattered all over the hems. His sandals were made of the softest leather and his thick black hair was adorned with pearls.
Behind the royal divan bed a group of half naked women gathered. They weren't frightened due to the sedatives in their drinks. They lolled over each other in a sexual manner and played with the black kittens, the heraldic animal of the kingdom.
"Ronald! Breakfast!" The bark of his mother in the morning was as lovely as ever.
Before he was able to pull on his sweater, the door to his room burst open and George tackled him down.
"Morning, Ronnykins." He kissed Ron's cheek. Grossed out Ron pushed him away. "Urgh. George. Can't you… just stop." Ron wiped away the remaining touch with the back of his hand. He ogled him wearily. Since Fred was gone the remaining twin seemed lonely and made it up by being too cuddly with every other family member. Ron was glad, that George refrained from being too friendly with Hermione, he didn't want to hurt him.
He finished dressing and put his arm around George's shoulder to pull him along towards the kitchen. He ruffled the hair of the smaller brother and smiled at the possibility of a very fine day.
The morning sun highlighted the furniture in the constricted kitchen and seemed to intensify the homely smell of fresh bread. Ron plopped into his spot and pulled George down with him.
It was the day before New Years Eve. Harry would come back from Grandma Tonks and Teddy this evening.
Ron just grabbed a slice of apple when the sun came up the second time. As promised Hermione spend Christmas at the Burrow. Today she wore tight blue jeans and a dark blue hooded sweater. Beautifully she pushed a lock of hair behind her left ear and with a twinkle in her eyes, she told the room "Good Morning" by looking at Ron.
Ron gaped and finally returned to earth when George elbowed him in the side. A husky "Hi" invited Hermione over to Ron who gladly accepted the light kiss on the lips and the tight grip of her hand in his own.
Under the beaming smile of his mother and George's harrumphing, Ron blushed bright red.
He was saved by the loud entrance from Charlie. He had come back for Christmas and decided to return to Romania in the new year. He clapped everyone on the back and sat opposite from George.
"Well Georgie, did you sleep well? I heard some weird noise during the night." His concerned eyes flickered from George to Molly.
Molly deposited the can of coffee on the table and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "George? What did you do?" Her tone was strained and demanded the truth.
George glared at Charlie. With a pout he submitted to the matriarch. "I worked on new Wildfire Whiz-Bangs." He grumbled and scratched at the wood of the family table. "It was supposed to be a surprise." He threw an accusing glare at Charlie.
George missed the glow of relief and pride in Molly's face by looking back at his fingers. "George!" Her cheer made George look up. Their mother wiped away a tear and rounded the table to hug her baffled son tightly.
Ron felt his heart warming. Hermione reached for his hand again and they shared a smile. It was the first time, that George showed any interest in inventing since the end of the war.
Ron's focus shifted easily towards Hermione. Ron lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. He wished he had had the courage to give her the ring on Christmas, but he didn't. He agreed with Zabini, he wanted to give it a more special meaning. After all the work and emotion Ron had put into it, the moment to give the ring to Hermione and ask for her hand in marriage should be nearly perfect.
Surrounded by Molly's sobs, Charlie's laughter, George's protests and Ginny's loud questions to the situation at hand, Ron stared into his beloved's eyes and decided, that a better setting wasn't possible. He knelt down squeezed between table and bench, and rummaged for the wooden box with a shaking hand.
He broke out in a sweat and had to summon every flake of his courage to continue looking at Hermione's face. Everything, except her, lost the privilege of his attention.
She was lovely all over. Soft curls, trusting eyes and the fingers of her free hand played at her beautiful lips. With some difficulty Ron opened the box and took out the ring. He held it, the lava pointing towards Hermione. Due to his thundering heartbeat he wasn't aware of the blazing silence in the kitchen.
He cleared his throat several times before he was able to whisper. "Hermione Jean Granger. I've known you for over seven years. We were acquaintances forced by the circumstances to act together and since then friends. I never regretted the friendship and I hope we will be friends forever.
"But you mean so much more to me. I want to walk alongside of you. I want to watch you grow with your tasks closely. And I want you watching me. I want to share my life with you, the bad days, the glorious days and especially the utterly normal days.
Please answer me: Will you marry me?"