Hermione woke to cheery light pouring through a window, and the smell of bacon drifting through the air. She lay tangled in blankets on Ron's bed, feeling comfortable and more content than she had for months. A smile played her face as she remembered last night. Or morning, technically. Oh shit what time is it? Hermione's eyes widened and she sat up in the bed, noticing how bright the light pouring from the window was. No no no no no no no no, Hermione thought as she disentangled herself from the warm sheets, and threw one of Ron's tee-shirts over her head. There was no clock in sight. Maybe that's why he is late all the time, she thought to herself as she dashed out of the room, her sock feet slipping on the hardwood. Ron was standing in his little kitchen, wearing nothing but threadbare sweatpants. He hummed to himself merrily as he danced around, making eggs and bacon. It was adorable, but Hermione had more pressing matters at hand.
"Ronald Weasley, what time is it?!" she asked, her voice rising an octave.
"Well good morning to you too," Ron laughed, "Don't worry about the time."
"Ron, I have to be at work, they are expecting me at the Ministry," Hermione said, only an inch away from yelling. Slipping, slipping, chorused in her head.
"Relax," Ron said, stepping away from the breakfast to put his hands on her shoulders and look her in the eye, "I sent two owls to the Ministry, one saying I'm sick, and one saying you had a family emergency."
"Ron, Ron," Hermione felt as though reality was crashing over her head, "We can't just stay in your apartment and skive off our jobs!"
"Why not?" Ron replied, a flash of hurt in his eyes, "Just last night you said you were struggling at work, and needed a break."
"Ron, I regret a lot of things I did last night," Hermione replied icily, just as she realized what she was saying. Ron's hands dropped from her shoulders in an instant, and his face went cold and hard. Hermione pressed the backs of her hands into her eyes. She should go to the Ministry, she knew that, but the look on Ron's face…. Suddenly, she spun around three times on the spot. Ron looked bewildered.
"Take 2," Hermione said, smiling up at Ron, "Last night was one of the best nights of my life, and I love you, and I'm starving." A giant smile lit Ron's face, and that was the moment Hermione knew that she would always have everything she needed, as long as she had Ron. Jobs are fine, but love is forever. She put her arm around his waist, and allowed herself to stand beside him, skin to skin, in the tiny kitchen full of light.
They spent the entire day lounging around, watching cheesy movies, eating junk food, and snogging. It was paradise for two people who hadn't had a moment to catch their breath in months. They laughed as they reminisced about Hogwarts, and almost never left each other's side. Hermione kept sending owls to the Ministry though, much to Ron's dismay.
"Ron, I swear, the entire place will fall apart without me," Hermione ensured, and Ron snorted.
That night, they lay in bed together, staring at the dark ceiling, dreading the approaching morning.
"Ok, so tomorrow I have a nine A.M meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt, then I need to finish the reports on standard protocol for non-magic violence, then I take the afternoon off to help Ginny with her wedding plans, then I go back to the ministry after dinner to review-" Hermione began before Ron interrupted her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered.
"Every night, before I go to sleep, I list everything I have to do the next day aloud. That way, including my planner, secretary, and calendar, I never miss anything!" Hermione replied brightly.
"You do realize that this is just stressing you out before you go to bed," Ron replied slowly.
"But Ron, if I don't do this I will forget. And if I forget, I fail. And I can't fail. Simple," Hermione answered, her voice thinly veiling her worry. Ron sat up in the bed, then leaned over Hermione until his hands were planted above her shoulders and they were nose to nose. Hermione resisted the urge to kiss him as the smell of his aftershave washed over her. Why is he so irresistible? Hermione thought to herself, He is distracting me.
"Hermione. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are strong. And you will not fail," Ron whispered in the dark. The moonlight just barely outlined his jaw and shoulders, and Hermione lost her breath at how much she loved him. How much she needed him. How much he completed her. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her gently, his lips soft. Hermione responded urgently, kissing him back with such passion that he stopped for a moment.
"Bloody hell, you really must stop doing that," Ron murmured heavily in her ear, "Or neither of us are ever going to leave." Slowly, he brushed his mouth across her face until he met her lips. When he found them, he began to kiss her again, deeper than he ever had before. There was no fear now, no question of what was going to happen. Only endless possibility. Hermione breathed in deeply through her nose as he shifted on her, cupping his hands roughly on her face. She responded willingly, letting her lips open and running her hands up and down his back, morning meetings forgotten.
"Tell Griffin he has to wait, and let Mr. Carter know that there is an incoming shipment of brick that has suspected tampering. Something about them biting people's hands off. Oh and please remind Maisy Derkel that she is not in any of my lists!" Hermione shouted to her secretary, a small, rather pale young woman, as she scribbled something down on a piece of paper. Hermione then threw the piece of paper into the air, where it turned into a small plane and shot away. Witches and wizards of every kind scurried around Hermione as she left her well organized, but full, desk. Surely I have enough time for lunch, she thought desperately to herself, seeking a deserted hallway where she could eat in peace.
Narrowly dodging someone else looking for her, she dashed sideways into a half-lit corridor with a maintenance closet. The hallway merely connected two departments, but it got far less traffic than the main throughway. Hermione's heels clicked steadily on the marble as she slowed her pace, pulling out a sodden ham sandwich and a tiny can of juice from her bag. De-lish, Hermione thought mutinously. Suddenly, she felt heavy hands on her shoulders. Death eaters! Her mind raced as she whipped around. Fear shot through her like venom, because some wounds never heal. Ron stood before her, beaming and carrying a brown paper bag. You thick headed idiot, of course it's not death eaters. Hermione put her hand on her heart, and took a deep breath. It had been one week since that fateful night with Ron, and Hermione had eaten dinner or stayed over with him almost every day since. It had been heaven. However, they rarely had time together at work, and this was a pleasant surprise.
"Great minds think alike, huh?" Ron mused before kissing Hermione on the cheek, then plopping down on the floor. Hermione grinned as she too knelt down.
"I'm worried about George," Ron said suddenly, and Hermione looked up. "He seems to be struggling at work, and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has been decreasing in profit steadily since May." Hermione gave Ron a concerned look.
"Well, has he tried charting their exponential losses? He may be able to find a pattern," Hermione reasoned, but Ron shook his head.
"I suggested that, but it's not the business model that's failing, it's the quality standards," Ron replied. Hermione's eyes widened a bit.
"Ron, you seem to know a great deal about the state of his business," she said slowly. Ron blushed.
"Well… I don't know. I'm considering taking over from him, I guess," Ron admitted, and Hermione threw her sandwich aside, kissing him full on the lips.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah, where's the fire?" Ron asked, laughing.
"Oh Ron, don't you see? THIS is what you are meant to do! When you talk about it, your whole face lights up. This is why you aren't flourishing here, you aren't meant to be here!" Hermione answered, a giant grin lighting up her face, as though she had solved a complicated equation.
"I reckon you're right!" Ron said, his voice rising with excitement. "This makes perfect sense!" It was his turn to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, they could hear footsteps at the end of the hall, and voices.
"Shoot," Hermione hissed, "Quick quick get in!" She threw open the door to the tiny broom closet, shoved Ron inside, then shut the door behind her. They stood, nearly on top of eachother in the mildewy darkness. Anxiously, Hermione pressed her ear to the rough wooden door, and listened as the footsteps faded away.
"Ok, the coast is clear," Hermione said, "We can get out now." She moved to open the door, but Ron stopped her.
"No," Ron's voice was dull, lifeless.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Why didn't you want those people to see us?"
"Ron," Hermione replied, exasperated, "We were sitting on the floor snogging, I just didn't want to-" Ron cut her off.
"Snogging?" Ron's voice was icy. "Are you sure it was only that, or would you have been embarrassed to be seen with the failing auror? Wouldn't they know we were together? I mean, people must know that we are dating…" his voice trailed off, and Hermione flinched. She knew what he was about to say.
"You haven't told anyone that we are dating. Wait... Do you even realize that we're dating?" Ron's voice rose, and Hermione felt a rush of cold air as he stepped back. " You didn't. You didn't tell anybody. You're embarrassed." Ron's voice was expressionless, but she knew his eyes were blazing in the dark.
"Well, didn't you tell anybody? I mean, I didn't know for sure if we were dating or-" Hermione babbled on, before Ron interrupted her.
"I THOUGHT THEY KNEW ALREADY!" Ron roared, slamming the door to the tiny closet open, and storming out.
"Wait Ron!" Hermione called after him. Ron spun around. His face was scarlet with fury.
"OH AND HERMIONE, I DID ASSUME WE WERE DATING. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I DON'T TELL SOMEONE I LOVE THEM, THEN SLEEP WITH THEM MULTIPLE TIMES, AND CALL IT FRIENDS WITH BLOODY BENEFITS!" Ron bellowed down the corridor. A throng of people were gathering at the end of the hallway, drawn to the commotion. Hermione's legs felt weak beneath her as she stepped out of the closet. Ron was beginning to shove his way through the crowd.
"No… Ron please." Hermione gasped desperately, all effort for dignity thrown to the wind. Ron stopped, and slowly turned around. The mob was completely silent, anxiously awaiting his next word.
"See you at Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's wedding next week, Ms. Granger."
He disappeared into the crowd, his shock of red hair getting lost in the waves of people rushing towards Hermione as she collapsed. It was too much. It was all too much. The crowd began talking furiously, people calling out "Ms. Granger, Ms. Granger!" echoing a hundred times in the miniscule corridor. Tears were leaking out of her eyes and she buried her face in her hands. The flash of a camera went off nearby, and Hermione stood up to blindly sprint down the hall. Searching desperately for an escape, leaving her and Ron's lunches left behind to be trampled.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and please review! Shoutout to emmelinevance713 for helping me edit. (P.S. the last chapter will be in everyone's perspective, so Ron and Hermione's story isn't over yet!) Next up: Ginny
