Deft
A/N: Ron's keeping a secret from the family, and Hermione is going to get to the bottom of it. A post-Deathly Hallows Ron/Hermione fluff story. Canon compliant. Rated T. One-shot. Everything belongs to JKR.
There are a lot of things that surprised Hermione as she dated, married, and lived with Ron. He has a good singing voice for one, a deep and clear baritone that melts her heart, but he never shares it outside of singing lullabies to the children. He is actually quite good at cleaning when magic is employed and he can do something more entertaining while the rags and brooms do the actual work. But there's one thing that has continued to be surprising to Hermione, and that is how much of a handyman Ron is.
At first, it was small things in their little rented flat. The kitchen sink kept clogging and Hermione had had it, going for the phone to call the landlord and demand something be done. But Ron stopped her. He went over to the sink, wand in hand, and 15 minutes later she had a fully functional kitchen sink. When they bought their house, Hermione had fretted over what looked like water damage in the plaster. Ron had simply sent her to her parents' for the day, claiming it was going to get dusty and he didn't want to hurt her or their unborn baby. When she came back that evening, the water damage was gone and the plaster looked like new. For her first Mother's Day, Ron's gift had been installing a tile backsplash in the kitchen that she'd wanted. That same summer he completely gutted and installed a new patio because poor Rosie had ended up with a splinter on the old one.
Ron's handyman skills were also something he didn't flaunt, and when people commented on the finished projects he always said he knew a guy that came out and took care of it.
It was one such occasion when Hermione decided to prod the proverbial bear. Arthur and Molly had been over for dinner and Hermione had been excited to show them the beautiful windows Ron had installed in the sitting room to replace the old and drafty ones that had been there since the house was built. And when Molly asked who did it, Ron quickly said he knew a guy. So after her in-laws were home, Hermione started prodding.
"Why do you do that?" She asked as he sat on the sofa reading.
Ron looked around him, "Read the Quidditch section?" He asked holding up the open Prophet, "Because Ginny's a good writer and I like her thoughts on how the season is going."
Hermione chuckled, "No, why do you lie about who put in the new windows, or our patio, or my backsplash?"
Ron's face became rigid, "I don't lie about it, I know a guy, he just happens to be me."
"So why not let everyone know?" Hermione sat next to him on the sofa and laid a hand on his thigh.
"I'm not good at these things love," Ron sighed shaking his head.
"At having conversations about feelings?" Hermione laughed, "I'm well aware, but somehow I got you to admit that you liked me, and then that you loved me, and later loved me enough to marry me, and have children together, so I think we're making progress."
Ron groaned. "It's complicated."
"Most feelings are dear." Hermione squeezed his thigh, "But when we share them it creates a stronger connection between us, and a deeper sense of trust, so give it a go."
Ron sat silently, collecting his thoughts, "Bill was always the one who helped Dad around the house, trying to make it function for our big family, and when he moved out, Charlie did the best he could, but he was only a year behind Bill so it wasn't much longer before he was gone. Percy wasn't one to help anyone for a long time - you know that story - and while Fred and George helped, the more time they put into the joke shop, the more mum and dad got after them, and the less they were willing to help. So basically from about fourteen on, I was the one to help Dad with the house. But Dad is really lousy at it without a wand and mediocre at it with one. Basically, I didn't really learn much, so I wrote Bill and asked for help, and he sent me some instructions and a little how-to book. That got me started, and I figured out the rest on my own. But that was about the time things blew up for you, Harry, and I wasn't it? I didn't put a ton of effort into keeping the house going because we were all more concerned about keeping Harry and then our own families alive. So all these things that I do for us, well I feel guilty I never did them for my parents' house." Ron finished, hanging his head in his hands.
Hermione's hand immediately went for Ron's shoulder, "Hey, don't forget we were in a war, and you were a teenager. Those two things combined give a whole lot of wiggle room for your actions, or lack of them."
"You're a right angel, love, but the fact remains I have a lot of personality traits that aren't very admirable, and the biggest one is I'm a lazy arse." Ron chuckled.
"We all have lazy tendencies love," Hermione soothed, "But you're doing what lazy arses don't; you're overcoming it. Everyone is a lazy arse when it comes to doing something they don't like. But you're finding worth in doing the things that benefit those you love."
Ron nodded, looking out the window. "Well, at some point maybe I'll let the family know that I'm useful around the house."
"Good," then Hermione smiled wickedly, "Did you know that Muggles call men who can work on their own homes a 'handyman'?"
"No," Ron's face was confused.
Hermione nodded a glint in her eye that Ron didn't miss. "And in popular media, they're usually portrayed with their shirts off wearing muggle jeans."
"You don't say?" Ron whispered as he ran a hand along her thigh.
"Rosie is asleep," Hermione took Ron's hand, "Maybe you could see if there's anything worth working on in the bedroom?"
Ron smirked at her, "I can think of one thing in particular that needs some elbow grease." And then in one swift motion, he picked Hermione up from the couch and carried her laughing into their bedroom.