"I must have been crazy to do this" was the only thought running through Hermione Granger's head. Standing as she was, in a green sleeveless sundress in the Weasley's chilly backyard, she was not thinking about a sweater.
Her feet were beginning to hurt. Her hair had long since fallen from its do and was now in the controlled mess of curls usually seen on her. She hated her hair.
She wished she were at home on the couch with a book, really even a magazine at this point would do. She was talking to one of Ron's aunts about sex, of all things. Of course it was never said outright, but the old woman kept on making references about how "You're sure to please Ronnie very much" at which point she would wink so heavily that her overly painted lashes would stick together.
Hermione downed her third glass of champagne and wished she had something stronger. She was not normally a drinker, but the sparkling wine was doing nothing for her and she knew that the evening was just getting started.
She glanced behind the inappropriate aunt to take in the enormous banner pronouncing its congratulations to Ron and Hermione on their engagement. Her eyes then scanned the crowd, hoping to catch sight of Ron.
No doubt he was with Harry or one or all of his brothers, having the time of his life, sipping firewhiskey (Hermione had been slightly offended when told by Mrs. Weasley that it wasn't appropriate for her to drink tonight, though Ron could do as he pleased), and not even noticing her agony.
The old bat continued to prattle on as Hermione finally spotted him. She had been wrong, he looked as miserable as she was. He was standing in a large group of men his age and was apparently the butt of a huge joke.
Their eyes met longingly. Hermione wished they could be standing together. Surely they would have been having more fun. She knew that if he were with her now, though she would probably elbowed him for laughing, having his laugh and his humor would have made the uncomfortable situation go away.
From somewhere in the crowd, a voice that sounded suspiciously like George's had begun to chant "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" He was soon joined by more guests. Hermione had to fight to roll her eyes as the crowd parted to make a path between her and Ron.
This was the fifth time they had been commanded to lock lips, and Hermione was tired of it. She was happy to kiss Ron in private, or even provide a little peck in public when the time called, but this had to be against some sort of code of conduct.
Her feet began to move her towards Ron, who was also walking, but looking as reluctant as she felt. She didn't want to just be a show for these people, half of whom she didn't know, but at least this would get her closer to Ron.
They met and he pulled her close. Her head tilted for a kiss, she was caught off guard as he lifter her off the ground. She had to look down at him and her hair made an impromptu curtain around them. His face was close to hers, but no one could see their lips.
"Don't leave me."
"Please let me stand with you."
They both began talking at the same time, and both began to laugh at the same time. Ron put her gently back on the ground and the crowd, jilted out of their kiss, went back to their conversations. Ron's head bent close to hers.
"Let's go home." Hermione smiled, but knew it was impossible. This was, after all, their party. "We can't." she whispered back sadly. Both their former groups beckoned for each of them. Hermione's hand tightened on Ron's wrist. His fingertips bushed her cheek comfortingly, and they separated.
The night continued thusly. Every time she turned, someone was there to sweep her into a conversation. She had begun to think that the whole party had planned to keep her continuously away from Ron and the food table.
Finally excusing herself to go to the restroom, she made her break for the kitchen. Inside she found Harry and Ron, the latter stuffing his face with crab puffs and mini chicken sandwiches.
"Traitor." She grumbled at him. She began to attack his plate earnestly, however, and he pushed it closer to her while simultaneously popping 6 grapes in his mouth. Harry laughed at both of them, who turned vicious glares on him.
"It's no walk in the park, mate." Proclaimed Ron around a chip. Hermione nodded vehemently and finished off her second sandwich.
"They've conspired to keep me away from any food. Or anyone I like." She said as an afterthought. Ron chimed in.
"It's like they planned it or something, and I'm sorry, but I can't kiss you one more time."
"It's unnatural how much affection they want out of us!" They both nodded and went back to their food. George came in.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Ron made a very inappropriate gesture. "Aw, c'mon! Everyone wants to see England's Sweethearts in love!"
"We are in love! That's understood by the nature of the very party! Further, why do these people even want to see us kiss at all?! They'll see us do it at the wedding! At this point all they're doing is crossing themselves off the invite list. And the next person who asks me if I've thought of any baby names has another thing coming!"
"Hear, hear!" said Ron, who toasted her with a crab puff before stuffing it in his mouth.
"Well, they're starting to ask where you are." said George. Ron and Hermione groaned as Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen. Spotting the two she yelled out into the yard, "FOUND THEM!" She gestured for them to come out. Hermione put down her crab puff and prepared herself. Walking back out through the door, it was like being attacked by particularly chatty three headed dogs.
Every person seemed to ask five questions at once, all wanting her attention. She started from the right. Two hours later, she had gotten halfway round.
Her feet were aching fiercely by now, and she couldn't take off her heels. She was truly shivering at this point, but couldn't get away to find her jacket. Also, the hunger was making her stomach growl so obviously, that she was sure some people began to look around for feral cat.
She was describing the wedding flowers for the fiftieth time, when she felt a familiar hand clamp onto her waist.
"Sorry, Uncle Barney, I need to steal her away." With a smile, Ron began towing Hermione towards the sparsely populated dance floor. Twirling her once, he quickly pulled her into his arms and began to sway in time to the music.
"You're a genius." Hermione sighed, enjoying the silence and warmth of his arms. The other dancers on the floor were giving them a wide berth letting them have "a special moment." Ron's hand moved from hers to her waist, allowing her arms to circle his neck and taking some of her weight.
"Your feet look like they hurt." He murmured. She only nodded sleepily and nestled her head onto his shoulder. They stayed like that for two songs, until the band decided to quicken the pace. Ron pulled back first, taking in the sight of her shivering body and tired eyes.
He sighed. "It'll be over soon, I promise." His blue eyes looked at her with sadness. She nodded and, for the first time without being asked, pressed her lips to his.
What happened was what always happened when she kissed him. The world around her grew fuzzy and her insides melted. For three whole seconds, she could believe that they were not at this horrid party, and that they were the only two people in the yard. She drew back reluctantly.
As soon as her heeled foot stepped off the floor, she was pounced on by three ladies wanting to warn her about the dangers of bouquet throwing. She never got to the food table.
Hermione was watching a heated debate between two women about whether bridesmaids should wear their hair up or down, when she felt a jacket being placed on her shoulders. She slipped her arms through the sleeves and looked back at Ron, who was already being whisked away by an distant cousin.
Returning to the argument, now about veil length, she inhaled his scent and pulled the jacket closer around her.
It was well into three in the morning when Mrs. Weasley patted her hand and told her she could go home; Hermione apparated on the spot. Her apartment was in a muggle part of London. She sighed at her spotless white walls and unblemished carpet. She shook her head and went to the bedroom. Opening her dresser drawers, she saw only an old oversized tee shirt of Ron's and pair of too small blue jeans.
Again she sighed. All her clothes had long since moved to Ron's, as had most of her pictures, shampoo, and toothbrush. She only slept in her bed when he had company, and then not very well. She peeled off the jacket and her dress, kicked of her shoes and slipped into the shirt, happy feeling something of his against her body.
She knew that he needed to have some quiet sleep as much her, and couldn't bring herself to apparate to his loft. She pulled down the sheets on her bed and climbed in.
Five minutes later, she rolled into a different position, marveling at how uncomfortable and cold it was without him. Another ten minutes passed before she threw herself out of bed, threw on the old jeans, and dissapparated.
It was four thirty when she apparated into his living room with two boxes of pizza in her hand. Ron stuck his head out of the kitchen to see who was there. Smiling, he came to her, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand.
"This is why I'm going to marry you. He said, plopping down on his couch and gesturing to the pizza. She set the boxes down on the coffee table and took a swig of firewhiskey straight from the bottle.
"And that." He said with a laugh. He stuffed half a slice of pizza in his mouth as she returned the bottle to him, feeling a nice buzz already setting into her veins. He offered her a bite of pizza from the slice he was holding and she took it gratefully. It went on like that until they had eaten a pizza and a half. They ate in silence, through with talking for one night, and not really needing to, anyway.
Hermione fell against one side of the couch, stretching out as he pulled her feet into his lap, massaging the arches. Hermione moaned and closed her eyes. He was soon massaging in larger and larger circles, and his hands felt so good and warm. Her sighs and moans became frequent until Ron gave up and pulled her up so she straddled him. She spoke first.
"I know you said you couldn't kiss me again tonight, but-" she was cut off by his lips covering hers. They kissed slowly, almost indecently. Her moans were from a different pleasure now, and the hard ridge of his pants had her standing, pulling him with her.
They kept their lips locked together and began to move towards the bedroom. His fingers slid the pants off of her as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid it from his shoulders. By the time the reached the bed, they were both gloriously naked, and Hermione wanted only one thing.
They came together in a crash of lips and hands and bodies. They went fast, needing the physical release. When it was over, he rolled onto his side, gripping her tightly so that she went with him. She pulled the covers from underneath them and they both fell asleep immediately, with the lights on in the living room and the door open.
Hermione woke to silence. Her brow furrowed, but the warmth beside her assured her that Ron was still in bed with her. Her eyes popped open. Ron frowned.
"Did I wake you?" he asked incredulously. "I was being quiet."
"You weren't snoring anymore." Her voice was hoarse and blinked her eyes in the bright light from the window. "What time is it?" she asked.
Ron ran his lips along her collarbone, glad she was awake so that he could touch her. "Nine."
Hermione's eyes closed as he kissed up her neck and chin. His lips then found her forehead, her eyebrow, eyelids, ears, cheeks. His nose traced a path down hers until his lips finally met hers. He didn't kiss her like he had last night. He kissed her in a soft, morning way, with closed lips and worshipful thoughts.
Hermione lay still and let herself love this moment and this man. She drifted lazily in her happy state. Ron ran his lips back to her neck, down to the base of her throat. He circled around her flat stomach and kissed her navel. He got lower and lower until he was right were she wanted him.
He brought her up leisurely, ratcheting the pleasure slowly higher and higher until she burst. He kissed his way back up her body and she wrapped her legs around his waist. They both reached completion slowly, languidly. He kissed the tip of her nose.
Sliding off her, he let her drift closer to sleep while kissing and touching her body softly. She was about to succumb when she felt his breath on her ear.
"I'm really glad I'm marrying you." She smiled and turned her head to kiss him. He pulled her back into his arms and they both began to fall asleep again.
Maybe I'm not so crazy. She thought, and snuggled closer. Not crazy at all.