Chapter 1: Wedding Bells
"Tale as old as time... song as old as rhyme... Beauty and the Beast..."
Hermione Granger - no, Hermione Weasley - snuggled closer into the arms of her husband, Ron, as they swayed on the marquee dance floor. It was the last call for music at their wedding reception, and they were the only two left on the tiles. The party was winding down in earnest, with guests under various stages and degrees of inebriation milling off and away, disappearing into the swirling flakes of new falling snow, this Christmas of 2002.
"Thanks for marrying me," Ron rumbled, once the final notes of his bride's favorite Muggle song had faded away (he made a point to thank Harry later for that little tidbit of information - he knew it would make Hermione happy to have it in the DJ rolls).
"The wedding was wonderful," Hermione hummed, her head resting full on Ron's chest, her eyes closed in contentment. "Thanks for proposing to me." She giggled a little at this witty comeback.
Something blinked just on the edge of Ron's line of vision, and peering over the top of Hermione's head, he saw the gaggle of paparazzi in the distance, at the other end of the Weasleys' apple orchard, their cameras trained on the happy couple intensely. Ron scowled and held Hermione closer, possessively. If he had had his way, there would have been zero media at his wedding. But being one-third of the Golden Trio (and now married to another third) did certainly have its consequences. There were some parts about the fame that Ron genuinely enjoyed. The lack of privacy - particularly on his wedding night - wasn't one of them.
"Let's get out of here," Ron rumbled low in Hermione's ear, his breath tickling the lobe. He was anxious to be alone with her, where they could just be and make love and prove their devotion to each other. He had waited half his life for that moment, and did not want to wait much longer.
Hermione gazed up at him, smiling, her chin resting on his clavicle. "I have a better idea: let's give them something to write about." Her impish gaze threw him.
"Who are you and what have you done to my wife?"
There was a sharp intake of breath and a slight whimper as Hermione started on the word 'wife'. "I adore it when you call me that." And pulling his face to her, she kissed him long and sensuously. She could sense the ruddy camera bulbs flashing out of the corner of her eye, and held the kiss, more for her own pleasure and desire for privacy than giving the bloody reporters their stories and quotas. Breaking apart at last, she rested her palms on Ron's chest.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, shall we retire?"
Ron beamed, the twinkle in his eye palpable, even behind the darkness of lust. "We shall, Mrs. Weasley." And so, the couple turned to the inevitable swarm of paparazzi, who immediately began flashing profiles and sticking microphones enhanced with Sonorus nearly up their noses:
"Mrs. Weasley, have you and your husband discussed having children?"
"Mr. Weasley, where will you be taking your wife for your honeymoon?"
"Will you both be working at the Ministry?"
All at once, there was a fluttering of fabric, and the happy couple quite abruptly disappeared. Shouts and cries and even more camera flashes went up over the spot where Hermione and Ron had once been.
"Move," Hermione heard her beloved brother-in-law whisper in her ear. The three deftly danced out of the hive of media, then turned on the spot and Disapparated up to Ron's room of the Burrow.
There was another rustling, and the Cloak came off, revealing the bride, the groom and the Best Man underneath it. "Man, how did we all fit under that?" Ron laughed.
"I memorized our blind spots and put up Concealment Charms," Harry explained flatly, wadding up the Cloak and stuffing it in his rucksack, then gathering cases of luggage and passing them to his friends. "Go," he encouraged. "Have fun in South America. I'll handle this crowd."
"Oh, Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked. "You did more than enough already, walking me down the aisle after Daddy got emotional."
"These media types are like cats with a laser pointer," Harry assured her with a little disgust in his voice. "All I've got to do is wipe my ass and they'll be all over me."
"Charming," Hermione frowned in a dry deadpan.
Harry hugged Ron and Hermione in turn, giving the latter a kiss on the cheek. "It was a lovely wedding, little sister. Congratulations. I love you both." He made to leave, then turned back to shake Ron's hand. As they clasped arms, Harry took the opportunity to look Ron hard in the eye.
"Ron: be good to her, you understand?" It was payment in kind, for Ron had said something of the same to him after Harry wed Ron's little sister, Ginny.
Hermione crinkled her brow, half-stern, half-amused. "Goodnight, Harry," she prodded, physically turning Harry around and playfully pushing him towards the door.
"All right, all right, I'm going!" Harry winked at his siblings-in-law, then disappeared with a POP! Another POP! was then heard in the garden below, followed by a booming voice: "OI! I think that's them, on the veranda!" Screams and more bulb flashes could be seen as Harry effectively led the media away.
Ron and Hermione laughed. "He really is the best damn friend anyone could ever have," Ron chuckled. "Well, come on, love. I've been meaning to get you alone." His voice had dropped several octaves and he wiggled his eyebrows. Hermione giggled, blushing furiously, before the newlyweds turned on the spot and vanished.
There was nothing but a tangle of limbs. Sweaty, rumpled coverlets. Two sets of breathing and two hearts beating. The moon was high in the sky, basking its glow through the window of their honeymoon suite. Opposite the double bed, a fire was roaring nicely in the fireplace. Orbs dancing in its amber light, Ron and Hermione snuggled together, immersing themselves in the afterglow bliss.
Hermione burrowed her cheek further into Ron's bare chest. "I wish this moment could last forever."
Ron turned his head against the posterboard ever so slightly, his grin warm and gentle and pleased, though he tried hard to not make it seem smug. Smug that it was he who could make her so happy.
"Forever?" he rumbled, pressing a kiss into his wife's temple. "You wanna spend forever with me, Hermione?"
Hermione bobbed her head. "I do. I do," she sighed, sounding almost like a captivated young schoolgirl.
"I seem to recall you saying something of the same mere hours ago."
Hermione giggled, and craned her neck around to look up at him. Ron was gazing down at her, and there was something in his blue pupils that made Hermione take pause.
"What's wrong?"
"That's just it. Nothing's wrong. I still can't believe you chose me. That you sized me up and said, 'Yeah, you'll do.' When you could have had anyone."
"But I didn't want anyone," Hermione shook her head, beaming as she swung a naked leg over to straddle his waist, facing him chest-to-chest. "I wanted you. Careful - that's the locket talking."
Ron smirked. It was now an old joke between them, dark in its humor but also intensely motivating. Slytherin's locket had affected them all, Ron the worst. But whenever he or Hermione were not at their best, referencing the locket was their way of reminding the other person, "You're not you." They even did it to Harry, much to his annoyance.
Wrapping his arms about his wife, he wriggled her closer, locking their hips. "You were... inspiring, love. You were everything I fantasized about for my first time."
Hermione drew in her breath sharply, and peered at him with something between confusion, hope and amazement. "You mean, you didn't... with Lavender...?" Even though the blonde bimbo was dead in the ground (a fact that actually made Hermione's heart twinge, in spite of everything), she had always floated just beyond consciousness for the couple.
Ron gaped, rapidly shaking his ginger curls. "Bloody hell, no! I wanted to save myself... for you. At least, that way, I was faithful."
Hermione's heart melted. Apologies and forgiveness for their sixth year shenanigans had been exchanged long ago, yet she knew how difficult it was still for Ron to mention that part of their lives. She played with the nape of his neck. "That's so sweet..."
Ron bitterly barked out a laugh. "Yeah, except I should have been faithful about everything..."
"But we weren't together, then," Hermione pointed out, trying to get why he kept clinging to that word.
"No, but my heart belonged to you," Ron explained. "I was so jealous and... defeated. That you would never want me as something... more. And that even if you did, there was always going to be someone better. Like Harry or Krum."
Hermione laughed. Heartily. She couldn't help it. Still running her delicate fingers through his curls, she smiled tenderly. "Oh, Ron... don't you understand? I never felt for Harry that way. Or Krum."
"But you kissed Krum."
Hermione gawked, and nearly sprung out of his lap. "I most certainly did not! Who told you that?"
"Ginny," Ron blinked, thrown by his wife's reaction. "Harry and I caught her necking with Dean Thomas and we rowed. I got so pissed off that when Lavender threw herself at me..."
Hermione was opening and closing her mouth like a fish. "You mean you went and... because your sister lied... Ronald Weasley, that is the stupidest..."
Husband and wife stared at each other. And then they began to giggle. Laugh. Roar. They fell into each other's arms, nearly crying from the hilarity.
"We're such idiots! We wasted so much time!"
Hermione interlocked her fingers around Ron's neck. "But we're here now. I never thought in my wildest dreams that it would happen, that you and me - that we - would happen. But we did. So, let's make up for it, hmmm?"
And stretching herself languidly on top of Ron, Hermione slowly began to make love to him again. However, in the middle of her worship, she paused, blushing, self-consciously running her fingers through her untangled braid.
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" She blurted out the question, turning an even deeper shade of pink. Her husband's jaw dropped.
"Bloody hell, woman! How could you think that I didn't...?" And to prove his point, he grinded desperately up against her.
"It's just... you never seemed to notice I was a girl. And I thought... how could you love someone so plain as me?"
Ron's mouth was so slack-jawed, flies could have flown in and out with no trouble. "Hermione... you are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. Shit, I bloody wanked to you for the first time when I was twelve!"
Hermione's mouth hinged into a perfect 'O.'
"I had never seen anything so beautiful... you were in nothing but your knickers... I barged in on you in the bathroom at the Burrow. Immediately turned around, went up to my bed, and masturbated. When I realized I wanted you... it scared me." By now, Ron's face was as red as his hair.
"It scared me too," Hermione admitted quietly. "But then, I was relieved. And so anxious to tell you."
Ron seized Hermione and mashed his lips to hers. She moaned, her eyes drooping shut, and kissed back, quickly becoming very involved. Ron's lips sprang down her neck and jawline, his bride clutching him close and trembling with desire.
"I love you, Hermione Weasley."
Hermione whimpered. "Say my new name again," she commanded breathlessly.
"Mrs. Weasley..." Ron smirked.
"Yes..." Hermione panted. "Yes..." Then, with a tiny mewl - "Ron!" She came all around him.
"I... I love you too," and tears pricked at her eyes, so crippling was the love Hermione felt for this man. Holding each other close, the couple resumed showing each other just how much they were in love...
