Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. They were all so amazing! I'm sorry I haven't been able to update sooner…I hope you all like this chapter!
Chapter Ten:
Hermione woke up the next morning fully and suddenly; it was as though she had never been sleeping. In a sudden rush all that had happened the day before flooded her brain, making everything fuzzy. A smile spread across her face as she began to remember; it was as though she was recalling a dream, an incredibly perfect dream. She sat up in bed and for the second time in a very short span of time, she felt her head spin. She closed her eyes for a second, steadying herself, then opened them again, looking around.
A bright sliver of light was streaming though the flap at the tent's opening. It ran the length of the tent, crossing the three people that lay sleeping in what had once been a living room. The night before had caused a small amount of trouble; there had been a certain awkwardness regarding sleeping arrangements. In Ron's defense, Hermione though to herself, it must have been uncomfortable sleeping next to your best friend and his girlfriend, who also happened to be your younger sister. In the end, Harry and Ginny had pushed two camping cots next to each other and Ron, who had gone to bed in high dudgeon, had pushed his bed as far away from the two as possible. Hermione slowly pushed back the blankets and crept out of the tent, before any of the others could wake up.
It was early, though Hermione could not tell what time exactly. The sun was just making its way above the clear, blue water. Hermione paused for a second, unable to ignore the beauty of it. A light mist hung above the water, the shimmery silver making everything seem dreamlike. She made a detour to her parents' house, walking across the sand and to the wooden dock.
The wood scratched at her feet, but she ignored it. The sunrise, and everything it seemed to represent enchanted her; she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Distantly, she could hear someone behind her, but she couldn't turn around. To tear her eyes away from what was in front of her seemed impossible, cruel. And then a voice interrupted her, breaking into her thoughts.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Hermione turned around slowly, smiling at the sound of that voice, the one she had missed for so long. Her mother stood a few feet behind her, her eyes flickering from the ocean to her daughter and then back again.
"Yes," Hermione whispered; talking seemed indecent in front of such beauty. "I was on my way to your house and I – I just…I just got caught up in it," Hermione said, blushing a little. Being away seemed to have created a very thin barrier between her and her and her parents. She felt humbled in front of them, as though she needed to impress them and make everything up to them.
"I was just going to take a walk, and I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Hermione's mother asked, her arms wrapped around her chest. Hermione wondered if she could feel the barrier too.
Hermione nodded gratefully: a walk sounded perfect. She gave one last look at the water, knowing that it would be different when she returned, before turning to her mother and walking off the dock
They walked a few times along the block. Hermione realized how perfect a place Charlottesville was. The street was filled with rows of tiny, quaint little cottages painted bright, cheery colors. The sound of the ocean was a constant heartbeat in the background, setting a pace for the people that lived there. Hermione glanced at her mother as they set out and smiled to herself: her mother seemed happy; genuinely, truly happy.
Their conversation ran far and wide. Hermione filled her mother in on everything that had happened in the last year that she had brushed over the night before. When she thought that she could not relive it anymore, her mother took over, telling her about their life in Charlottesville. It seemed as though bits and pieces were coming back to her. When Hermione had first switched their memories, they had no recollection of being in Australia, but as time passed, small parts of their other life began to slip in.
She told Hermione of the dentistry practice she and Mr. Granger had set up in the center of town. She told her how she was a member of the town gardening club, and how Hermione's father had joined the neighborhood book club. As Hermione listened to her mother talk about their relaxed, idyllic life, a terrifying though entered her mind: what if they did not want to leave? But she pushed this to the back of her thoughts; she had done so much in the last few days, she did not want to worry anymore.
The sun was fully up by the time they returned to the cottage, the sun beating down hard on the sand. She followed her mother into the kitchen, where he father was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. He looked up as they entered, a smile spreading across his face.
"Good morning," he said, putting down his paper and giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek as she sat down next to him. Hermione felt her cheeks glow with pleasure. It felt wonderful to have her parents back.
Mrs. Granger placed a steaming mug of tea down on the table, and then sat down in front of her. Hermione looked back and forth between her parents.
"So," she asked, "what are your plans for today?"
Hermione's parents looked at each other, and Hermione felt her heart speed up in anticipation.
"We – we were thinking about going in to the office. I know it sounds horrible but we have jobs here and…and we can't cancel on such short notice," Mr. Granger said apologetically.
"We don't want to do it," Hermione's mother added, and her father nodded earnestly. "But we really…we have no choice."
"That's alright, we did sort of drop by… unannounced. Besides, it might be nice to just walk around and sight see," Hermione said, sipping her tea. She could taste the sugar in it and smiled knowing her mother had known just the right amount to add.
"And tonight we can all have dinner together," Hermione's mother said, her gaze falling on Hermione.
"That sounds perfect," Hermione smiled. And it did; she couldn't think of anything better than spending a long, lazy day on the beaches of Australia with her friends, and spending the evening with her parents.
"Well then, if you're alright with this, then we should probably get ready. It's eight and we really should get in by nine," Hermione's father said, standing up and folding the paper.
Hermione had a sudden idea. "Mum?" she asked, "Do you…would you mind if I used the kitchen? I would like to make breakfast for everyone," she said.
Hermione's mother smiled. "Of course dear, the house is open to you, you don't have to ask. This is your home too, you know"
Hermione smiled broadly and leapt from the table, knocking her chair over. She crossed the room and embraced her mother. There was something about her last words that had moved her. She had felt the sudden need hold her mother, as if to confirm that what was happening was really true.
Her parents left to get ready for work, and Hermione was left to her own devices in the foreign kitchen. But she found that it was easy to find her way around; it was set up exactly like the kitchen in their old home. She smiled at the familiarity of it all and started moving around the kitchen with ease. As she stood on tiptoe to reach the flour, which was perched on the top shelf, she heard the sounds of someone approaching.
"Wow," said a voice behind her. Hermione smiled at the sound of the voice and turned around, forgetting about the flour. Ron stood leaning against the doorframe, his lanky legs stretched out impossibly. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants that exposed a few inches of ankles and a white shirt with a hole in the sleeve.
"What?" she asked, moving toward him, a smile playing on her face.
"I…nothing. It was just…you, standing there. I don't know," Ron said, shaking his head. Hermione smiled and he grinned back. He stepped out of the doorway and she could feel his hands inching toward her. She stepped closer, anxious for him to continue. He wrapped his arms around her back, and pulled her closer to him. He took his thumb and forefinger and took her chin, bringing it closer to him. Then, very gently, he kissed her.
They stood there kissing for a while, and Hermione could feel the blood slowly rush to her head and out of her body, making her head feel dizzy and her body feel as though it was made of nothing.
When they finally broke apart, Ron's eyes had a glazed look to them, as if he had just woken up from a wonderful dream. Hermione laughed and pulled back a little. Groaning lightheartedly, Ron grabbed her wrist, trying to bring her back. She laughed again and wiggled out of his grip.
"I can't," she apologized, "I'm making breakfast."
"Well, in that case," Ron said, smiling, "I can't interrupt you."
Hermione laughed and resumed her pursuit of the flour, which was just beyond her reach. Ron, who had sat down at the kitchen table, stood up and took the flour down with ease. Hermione put her hands on her hips in mock anger.
"I could have gotten that, you know," she said, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Ron laughed at her expression.
"I'm sure you could have," he said, humoring her and handing the flour to her.
They were standing very close; Hermione was sure Ron had done this on purpose. Slowly, he reached out and his hand grazed her hip. Gently, he brought her closer to him, his hands on her waist. Hermione felt her hands release the bag of sugar, and it exploded around them as it hit the floor, but she didn't care. All that she could focus on was Ron's eyes staring into hers, the blue of them taking up every available spot in her brain.
When he leaned down to kiss her again, she didn't protest, because she knew as well as he did that she wanted it. His hands ran through her hair as hers ran up and down his chest. They embraced frantically, as if there was not enough time in the universe to do everything.
"Gross, and I haven't even had breakfast yet," came another voice, breaking though this heaven. Hermione and Ron broke apart, both extremely reluctantly. Ron's hands were on Hermione's lower back, and hers were grabbing at the front of his shirt. In this rather erotic position they turned to see the source of the noise. It was Ginny, who had clearly just awoken.
"If you can do what you did yesterday in the middle of a bloody restaurant, then I can do whatever I want," Ron said, flaring up at once. Her let go of Hermione and turned on his sister. Hermione leaned against the counter; with Ron gone there was nothing to hold her up.
She watched as Ginny's widened eyes surveyed the scene, and Hermione followed them. There was a halo of white flour encircling them like some sort of spotlight. There was also a light dusting of white on their clothes, reaching up to their knees.
"What happened in here? It looks as though it snowed," said another voice behind Ginny as Harry entered the kitchen, his eyes flickering from Ron to Hermione and back again. Hermione felt herself blushing; the temperature in the kitchen seemed to have increased dramatically.
"I was making pancakes and I dropped the flour," Hermione said, skipping many of the details. Though judging by the look on Harry's face, he had deducted as much and did not want his thoughts confirmed.
"Will they be ready soon? I'm starving," Harry said, clearing the path for the four of them and leaving the uncomfortable situation behind them.
"I…yes, I just have to clean…" Hermione started, but Ginny was quicker than she was. She whipped out her wand and with a flick, the flour vanished. Hermione gave a work of thanks, and then began bustling around the kitchen, wanting to avoid eye contact with everyone in the room.
They were just sitting down to eat when Hermione's parents came downstairs, dressed and ready for work. They each kissed their daughter and said good morning to the others before rushing out of the kitchen and into the garage.
"So, what will we do today?" Ginny asked, putting a stack of pancakes on her plate and handing the serving fork to Hermione.
"I don't know, I was thinking we could just stay here, it would be nice to just…" she broke off, not knowing exactly what she wanted to say.
"To just do nothing?" Harry supplied, and Hermione laughed graciously; that was just what she had meant.
After this, the mood seemed to lighten to almost airless as they all joked and laughed. They realized that they had all the time in the world and nothing to fill it with; the luxury of this made them feel extremely lucky.
They spent the rest of the day doing exactly what Harry had proposed: nothing. After breakfast, Harry and Ron offered to clean the dishes. Then, they returned to the tent and lay around for a few hours, relishing the time. Once they started getting bored, Ginny changed into a swimsuit and announced she was going for a swim. A few minutes after she left, Harry stood up and decided to go swimming too. Hermione grinned knowingly at him, but said nothing. Instead, she got off the bed and curled up on a couch, reading a book. With all of the excitement of the last few days, she had had very little time to read. Now, she welcomed the hours she could just curl up and get lost in the inked words in front of her.
It turned out that reading was not as pleasurable as she had planned. Ron, who was obviously uncomfortable with the fact that his sister and best friend were swimming together less than a hundred feet away, made no effort to keep this discomfort private. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair and looked at the mouth of the tent so frequently, Hermione worried he would give himself whiplash. He also started muttering threateningly under his breath after a loud shriek of Ginny's broke through the hot summer air.
"If it's bothering you so much just got out there," Hermione said, flipping a page with more force than was warranted as the tension mounted to an almost unbearable point.
"I can't," Ron said through gritted teeth. "We – Harry and I – promised that we wouldn't get into each other's…business," Ron said, his ears reddening.
Hermione raised her eyebrows, caught between amusement and curiosity. "What does that mean?" she asked, shutting her book.
"It means that he doesn't talk about Ginny and I don't talk to him about Ginny…and I don't talk about you and he can't ask about you," Ron said, refusing to look at her.
Hermione wasn't sure if she should laugh or not. "Fine, but you have to do something, you're going to hurt your neck or something," she said. Ron looked up at her hopefully, and she read his expression correctly.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked him. He rolled his eyes; this was clearly not what he wanted to do in his spare time, but Hermione could see himself weighing the options.
"Fine," he sighed, standing up reluctantly.
"Good, because when I was taking a walk with my mother this morning, I saw that there was a park at the end of the street. It looked like it has some nice…private areas," Hermione said, casting her book aside.
"That walk is started to sound better," Ron grinned, taking his hand in hers.
The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon in the park. Hermione had been right, there were many secluded areas where the trees bent over, casting shadows and small hiding places.
They returned to the cottage as the sun was setting, walking through the door at almost exactly the same time as Hermione's parents did. The two of them dropped hands immediately, and Hermione felt herself blush, wondering if their swollen lips and mussed hair would give them away. From next to her, Ron was nervously running his hand through his hair.
If Hermione's parents saw them together, they ignored it. Mrs. Granger kissed her on the forehead as Mr. Granger opened the trunk. Hermione didn't like the knowing look in her mother's eye, but she did not address it.
"We stopped off at the grocery store, we thought it might be nice to make dinner," Hermione's mother explained as her father began to unload brown paper bags. Ron hastened to help him and Hermione went out to the tent to fetch Harry and Ginny.
An hour and a half later, they were all seated around a table heavily laden with food. Hermione's mother was a wonderful cook, and conversation flowed easily as dishes were passed around. Laughter rang out in abundance, their voices mixing into one perfect song. With so many people seated around such a small table – it was really meant to seat four – Hermione found it difficult to find Ron's foot under the table. Throughout the meal, when they would connect, Hermione would feel the familiar chill run down her spine as his foot found hers, and she found herself dropping her fork on more than one occasion.
After dinner, they all moved out to the patio, where the sun was setting spectacularly over the rolling waves. Hermione and her mother sat on the steps leading down to the beach, instantly falling into the easy stream of conversation. Ron, Harry, and Mr. Granger sat around the patio table, where the conversation was punctuated more often with pauses. Ginny spread out on a chair and watched the water, content on being left alone.
As darkness settled around the cottage, they headed back into the kitchen to have one last cup of tea before setting off for bed. The talk was quieter now, the lull of sleepiness settling in. At ten o' clock, Hermione's parents left for bed, though they assured the four that they were welcome to stay inside if they'd like.
Hermione boiled another teapot of water as Ginny cuddled up closer to Harry. She watched as Ron eyed them carefully, but said nothing. The four of them sat at the kitchen table in a hushed, comfortable silence. When Ginny began to yawn, they decided to return to the tent.
Hermione was the last to use the bathroom, and when she got out she found that Ron was no longer in the tent. She turned to Harry, who was sitting in bed, talking to Ginny.
"Do you know where Ron is?" she asked.
Harry turned to her, as if he had not realized she was still there. "Oh, I think he said he needed to step out for a moment."
Harry's eyes met hers and understood her concern. "He looked fine," he answered, before she could even open her mouth. She smiled, then headed for the opening in the tent.
"Thank you. I think I'll go find him," she called back to them, but they were not listening. Hermione smiled to herself; giving Ginny the extra ticket had been the right thing to do. She knew that Harry would play the part of the hero reluctantly; she knew that what he really wanted was Ginny to be there with them. And she knew that if was up to her to bring Ginny.
From the light of the moon, she could see a figure sitting on the end of the dock. She made her way to him slightly reluctantly, not knowing if he'd want her company. He looked up at her as she reached him, with her eyes she asked him if she could sit down. With his, he said yes.
Hermione sat down and put her bare feet into the water, which was a pleasant temperature after spending all day in the sun. She put her hands behind her and leaned back, enjoying the serenity of the night. The sky was an inky blue, the dept of it absorbing everything in the world.
"So, everything worked out, didn't it?" Ron asked, tilting his face toward hers. He had rolled up his jeans and his long legs hung over the dock into the ocean. In the water, his foot grazed hers, and Hermione felt a familiar sense of pleasure.
"Yes," she said breathlessly. "I have no idea how it all happened, but it did. It's incredible; I still can't believe I'm here. I still can't believe it sometimes…I still have to pinch myself to make sure I won't wake up," Hermione said, so many emotions rushing out of her at once. It was as though all of her thoughts and feelings were finally able to be released. Now that she knew there was nothing more to worry about, she felt safe admitting her fears, for there was no way they could get to her.
The conversation came easily from there. In all of the hectic plans and commotion of the past few days, there had been very little time to talk. Once they started, it didn't seem as though they could stop. Their banter covered nearly everything: they realized that they had so much to talk about over the last year. As the talked, they unconsciously moved closer to each other, so that eventually there legs were pressed into each other, Ron's arm stretched behind her back.
Hermione didn't realize how long they had been sitting out here until a tiny splinter of pink crept into the sky. Then, the sun began to peak into the horizon. Hermione looked at Ron, and by the expression on his face, she could tell he was just as shocked as she was that they had talked all night long.
"I completely lost track of the time," Hermione said in a hushed voice. Ron laughed softly.
They watched the sunrise; this one was, if possible, even more glorious than the morning before. The sun came in with an eruption of pinks and oranges, chasing the blacks of night away.
The change of temperature caused a light mist to fall over the water, causing a glow from the burnished sun. It was so beautiful it almost made Hermione panic, knowing that she could not capture it, knowing that it would not last forever.
Hermione looked over at Ron, and her heart fluttered to a stop. He was looking nervous, his hands twisting themselves in his lap. She watched him, wondering what was causing him to look so anxious. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ron got there first.
"Bill and Fleur are going to have a baby," he said, not looking at her, his hands still in his lap.
Hermione was taken aback; of everything she was preparing herself to hear him say, this was certainly not on her list, "I…oh. That's wonderful," she said, completely disarmed.
"They're telling everyone while we're in Australia," Ron explained. His ears were turning pink.
"How did you find out about it then?" she asked, eager to move the conversation along now that she was sure it was not going to bring anything bad. A baby surely would not bring bad news.
Ron's ears turned pinker in the rosy glow of the sunrise. "I – I walked in on them, on Fleur, when she was telling Bill," he muttered. Hermione tried hard not to laugh; it was so very much like Ron to walk in on something so important.
"That's such good news, Ron. You're going to be an uncle," Hermione said smiling, grasping his hand. Ron smiled.
"Yeah, I know," he said, his voice quiet. He bit his lip, he was looking nervous again. "They're going to move back into the Burrow," he added.
"What?" Hermione asked, wondering why he was telling her this.
"Bill and Fleur, they're going to move back in, so mum can help with the baby. Well, Bill sad they were going to ask mum and dad, but I doubt they'd say no."
Hermione nodded, because she didn't know what else to do. She felt her heart begin to beat faster again; Ron still looked nervous.
"Then, once they have a grasp on the whole parenthood thing, they're going to find a new house, because Shell Cottage is much too small to have a family in," Ron continued, his fingers growing whiter as he twisted them in his lap.
Hermione made a small noise in the back of her throat. She did not know why Ron was telling her all of this, and judging by the look of fear on Ron's face, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to know.
"Bill asked if I wanted Shell Cottage," Ron said, his voice so soft, Hermione almost missed it. She felt her heart fell; this was the reason why he was nervous. If Ron moved to Shell Cottage, they would not be together all the time, something they had gotten very used to. Hermione felt something block her throat, whether it was sadness or nerves she did not know.
"Oh," she whispered, her voice vanishing into the pink sky. Ron looked at her, his face more anxious than ever. Hermione could not bring herself to meet his eyes, she did not want to know what she would find in them.
"I was wondering...," Ron said, taking another deep breath, "ifyou'dwanttomoveintherewithme," he said in a rush, his words blending together, his ears glowing red.
Hermione looked up, her eyebrows furrowed, "What?" she asked.
Ron took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a great battle. "I – was – wondering – if – you – wanted – to – move – in – there – with – me," Ron said, breaking up the words and setting them far apart so that each one felt in front of them.
Hermione let what he said sink in; she had been so nervous it had formed somewhat of a wall between her and the rest of the world.
"Move to Shell Cottage…with you?" she asked softly, not daring to believe what she was saying was true.
Ron nodded. "I…you don't have to answer right away. It would be us …probably Harry and maybe Ginny. I was just wondering…" he said, trailing off.
Hermione grabbed Ron's hand, "Ron," she said, unable to contain herself, "Ron, yes. Yes, I'd love to. I'd love to move to Shell Cottage with you," she said, turning toward him and fixing her eyes on him for the first time since he had breached the conversation. There was only happiness in his face; all of the anxiety was gone.
"Hermione that…that's…I can't believe…you…you said…you said yes…" Ron said, apparently so happy he lost the gift of speech. To cover up this fact, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. Hermione felt herself let out a deep sigh of relief and happiness.
The sky was still a rosy pink when they broke apart, their breath coming out in short spurts as they gasped for air. Hermione looked out at the water, as if it held the answer to all of her happiness. All she could see was the beauty of it all: the colors and the mist, the dreamlike existence.
Suddenly, Hermione was overcome with a reckless idea. What sat in front of her was so perfect, she wanted more than anything to be a part of it. Everything churned in her head and clouded the rational part of her brain. She wanted to do something, anything, to let out at least a portion of what she was feeling inside. She stood up, pulling Ron with her. He gave her a questioning look, but she shook her head.
"Ron," she said, her voice coming quickly as she tried to gauge what she was about to do, "let's go swimming."
Ron looked taken aback; she knew he was not expecting that. "But we're not wearing bathing suits," he said slowly, giving her a questioning look.
Hermione laughed. It was loud and didn't fit in, but she didn't mind. "I don't care, I don't. I just…" but she never finished the sentence. She stripped off her shirt before her mind could tell her what an idiotic thing she was doing. For the first time in her life, she acted without analyzing. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time.
She stood there in the pink light of dawn in her bra and shorts, feeling extremely stupid. For a moment, she thought Ron would not do anything. As this thought occurred to her, she realized how utterly humiliating it would be, the aftermath of her recklessness.
Apparently, Ron was only stunned. He blinked several times, as if reassuring himself that this was not a dream. Then, he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off, so that he stood there bare-chested in the half light. Hermione smiled, relieved.
Together, their hands clasped together between them, they leapt off the dock and into the water. The mist over the ocean cast a mirror-like reflection on the sky, so that it felt as though they were in a molten pool, a sea of gold.
Hermione tilted her head back, wondering if this was real. She looked at Ron, and knew he was feeling the same way. She shook her hair out of her face, her laugh splitting the air before it was absorbed into the endlessness of it.
They played around in the water, splashing and pushing each other until Hermione's stomach hurt from laughing so much. Then, the just drifted, floating serenely in their sea of gold. It was a type of magic that Hermione had never known, a type that could never be created, that could never be taught or mastered.
She watched as the last of the pinks and oranges painted their way into the sky. It was as though an artist had created it; Hermione wondered if something this perfect could ever happen naturally. As she turned around to face Ron, she found that he had moved closer to her, his face inches away.
Her feet tried to reach down and touched the rocky bottom, but they were too deep in. She wondered if she would drown, but she didn't have time to contemplate this as their lips met. Ron's hands, which were under the water, lifted her up and she felt herself shiver with excitement.
There was something different about this kiss. Perhaps it was the fact that he was holding her, completely supporting her. Perhaps it was that their bare skin touched. Perhaps it was that they had stayed up all night, or that she had agreed to move into a house with him, where they would sometimes be very alone. Perhaps it was the beauty of everything that surrounded them and made them feel so small in such a big world. Whatever it was, it was like a current pulsing from her body to his, and then back again.
Hermione could feel Ron's hands, strong and supportive, on her waist as he held her, but the feeling that she was going to fall stayed with her. The recklessness flowed through her veins again as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel him shiver as she did this, and her heart felt like it was going to break free of her chest. His hands ran themselves up and down her back, and she could tell the feeling of her skin under his fingers made him nervous.
They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, for they lost track of time ages ago. All they had was one another, two seemingly infinitesimal figures, as they groped each other with mounting passion. They revolved on the spot, drifting as they came up for air then kissing again, neither one wanting to break the magic that had been created.
When they finally broke apart, Hermione removed her legs from Ron's waist, but he kept holding her, for she could not stand alone. They stared at each other, the rosy hues of the sky mixing with the pinks and oranges of the ocean so that they did not know where they were. Hermione's heart pounded loudly, and she wondered if Ron could hear it.
He was looking at her in a way he had never done before, and it made Hermione shiver happily yet feel nervous at the same time. They stared at each other in apprehension, a different feeling mixing into the air.
"I love you," he whispered. The words hung between them in the early morning air, the three words causing a presence unto them.
"I love you," she whispered back, a smile spreading across her face. He grinned too, and Hermione thought it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.
They embraced again, the exchange between them changing something between them. Hermione didn't know how to describe it – it was an invisible bond that had formed with what they had said. It was like a promise, only more real.
They stood revolving on the spot, holding each other underneath the watercolor sky. Hermione knew that this was perfection, for here, as the early morning sun beat down on them, she knew that she had everything she would ever need.
Author's Note: I hope everyone is okay with the route I took, Ron inheriting Shell Cottage and asking Hermione was just something that came to me. I hope you all liked the "I love you" bit, I thought a lot about when the right time to do it would be, and I hope that was it. Reviews would be amazing!!!
Also, thank you to everyone who has put me/this story on their list of favorites or alerts. As an aspiring author, it means a great deal to me, as do all of your fantastic reviews!