. . . Chapter 36
. . . A Gift and A Blessing . . .
Ron had thought at length about what to get for Hermione's birthday. After noticing from daily observation over the last few weeks that she didn't have a necklace, Ron had settled on the idea of buying Hermione a necklace. He had walked into a jewelry store feeling out of place in the ritzy store with all the jewels under glass. Overwhelmed with the selection he'd asked one of the employees of the shop for help and she'd said that charm necklaces were what she'd want from her boyfriend. Carefully considering the options, Ron bought a necklace with a thin silver chain and three charms that hung in a cluster side by side. That had been last week. Now he was knocking on the door of Tristle's Transportation Trinkets and talking to a shrubbery.
"Judson Tristle, please," Ron said, clutching the green velvet jewelry box in his hand.
"Just a moment." Talking to a bloody plant.
In a moment the door swung open and Ron saw the familiar figure of Judson Tristle. He waited for a flash of recognition that never came. Only been two and a half weeks.
"I'm Ron Weasley, I had a question about making a Single-Location Portkey out of a necklace," he explained quickly.
"Oh, come in, come in," Mr. Tristle hustled him inside. Ron had checked with dad that Tristle had passed his raid last week before coming out here. It was one of his more genius plans. "Doesn't contain opal does it?" Ron shook his head no. "Oh, good. Shouldn't be a problem."
Ron watched him perform the charm on the dainty necklace and the glow of a Portkey hovered around it. "Now where do you want it to go?"
"Our backyard in Ottery St. Catchpole," Ron said quickly, shoving both hands in his pockets and watching carefully.
"Address?"
"147 Valona Street."
Tristle waved his wand in a complicated series of movements, chanting an incantation over the necklace. The pulsing light of the Portkey sunk into the necklace and the light faded away.
"That'll be 3 Galleons then," Tristle said, removing his goggles and blinking at Ron. Ron paid him quickly and decided to try it out once the door shut behind him.
Ron touched the necklace and muttered, "portus." The backyard of their house swirled into existence and Ron grinned at the necklace in his hand, carefully putting it back in the box and snapping the box closed. He went upstairs and put it in his side table to keep safe and hidden until Sunday.
Sunday morning rolled around soon enough and Ron woke to a naked girl stretching in his arms. He grinned at her.
"Morning," he said hoarsely.
"Morning," she whispered back.
"Happy Birthday," he pulled her on top of him and hugged her to his chest.
"Mmm, thank you," she kissed him lightly. The angle of her neck drew attention to the scar there and Ron swallowed, remembering her meeting every concern of his head on in the yard.
"You hungry?" Ron asked her, ignoring what the feeling of her naked skin squirming against his did to him.
"Pancakes?" she chirped, hopefully. He laughed at her and leaned up to kiss her before rolling her off of him and revolving to stand out of the bed.
Ron made quick work of the Pancakes and as he and Hermione sat down. Harry clumsily slumped down the stairs a few mintes later. His hair stuck up at all angles and Ron snorted at him.
"Shut it, Ron," Harry mumbled and leaned to hug Hermione over the back of her dining chair. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."
"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling and patting his arm with her hand. Harry plopped into a chair and served himself breakfast.
The day streaked by in a blur, Ron kept thinking forward to tonight, to dinner with Hermione and to the necklace he'd give her. Harry gave Hermione a book about the marriage of Arithmancy and other disciplines including Divination, Potions, and Astronomy. She'd told them she was short on ideas for her NEWTs project for Arithmancy and Harry had taken it upon himself to help her out. Hermione had loved it, of course.
Ron had told Hermione they were to leave at seven to go to dinner and he'd gone upstairs to shower and dress around six. Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, Ron heard a muffled tune and a baby's crying travelling into the bathroom. He wrapped the towel around his hips. Ron smirked at his own reflection as he started to shave - Hermione was singing to Teddy in Harry's room.
" - But I keep thinking that something's bound to go wrong
But she looks in my eyes and makes me realize,
When she says, don't worry baby.
Don't worry baby, everything will turn out alright.
Don't worry baby, don't worry baby,
Don't worry baby,"
Ron narrowed his eyes as he raked the razor over his chin. He'd no idea what that song was but her voice was lilting and drew him to listen closer to the rest of the song. By the time she finished the song, Ron was grinning like an idiot in the bathroom.
Hermione's light footsteps descended the stairs before Ron left the bathroom and at seven Ron stood ready in the living room with the box in his hand. He'd decided to give her the necklace before dinner for several reasons. First and foremost, Hermione would be safer the instant that necklace was on her and they were about to make a rare trip outside their wards. Secondly, he didn't want her to guess what it was and all that before she opened it. He hadn't exactly worried with the wrappings.
Hermione's door opened and she stepped into the room. Her hair hung loosely around her. Ron caught his breath. She was wearing a very un-Hermione dress. She ran her hands over the clingy grey fabric nervously. He'd been staring and silent too long.
"Hermione, you look brilliant," Ron rushed out, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that this was the first birthday they celebrated as a couple. Should he have gotten a bigger gift? A smaller one? Flowers? She flushed with pleasure at the compliment.
"Thanks, Ronald," she said his full name as a term of endearment this time. He would have hated it from absolutely anyone else. Her eyes darted to his hand and he held up the box.
"Happy Birthday, 'Mi," he instantly wished he'd wrapped it when she took it from his hand.
She grinned at him and flipped open the box and gasped when she saw the gift. The gasp was good, right?
"Oh, Ron! It's beautiful!" She picked it up out of the box and held it up to the light. She studied the three semi-precious stones that hung near together. "These are our birthstones!" She exclaimed and Ron glowed with pleasure that she recognized the thought he'd put into it instantly.
"Sapphire for you, ruby for Harry, aquamarine for me. A lady at the shop helped me," he detailed. "It's not too weird?" He raised a sweaty palm to the back of his neck nervously. All three, small round stones were set in silver. The sapphire hung lowest and in the middle, ruby was shortest on their little lengths as they dropped down from the silver chain.
"Oh, Ron, no! It's perfect! Put it on me," she held it out to him and turned her back to him. He took the necklace and she moved her thick tresses away from her neck. He inhaled a shaky breath of relief and fumbled with the clasp to bring it around her neck and fasten. He leaned in and kissed the small round scar from Scabior's wand on the back of her neck before fixing her hair to cover the necklace. Wheeling around, Hermione looked up at him. "How does it look?"
Stunning. "Perfect," he said, looking her over. There was lot of leg showing in this grey dress.
"Thank you so much, Ron, it's so thoughtful," she said.
"Always the tone of surprise," he teased, "anyway that's not all. Put your hand around it and say 'portus'."
She narrowed her eyes up at him but he nodded at her encouragingly. "Portus!" Hermione spun out of sight and Ron walked quickly to the back window to see her standing in the middle of the backyard in shock. Hermione flicked her golden-brown eyes up at him in the window and he heard her muffled speech - "Ron! It's perfect! This is amazing!" - before he made his way out the backdoor to stand beside her.
"It's programmed to take you right here whenever you touch it and say the incantation. You like?" He took her by her waist. This dress was going to kill him for sure, every curve of her was visible.
"I love," she whispered and stood up on her toes to kiss him.
He Disapparated them both to a deserted park on the other side of town. He had one arm around Hermione and the other ready to yank his wand out of the waistband of his jeans. He always had trouble deciding where to put his wand when he was in Muggle clothes. He looked down at Hermione and frowned.
"Mione, were the hell is your wand?" he asked, leaning to look at her front and back. She colored and Ron got instantly angry. "You left it! What the hell, Hermione with everyth - "
"It's tucked up in the waistband of my knickers on my hip," she was blood red with the admission.
"Your wand is in your knickers?" his eyebrows shot up.
"No! It's on my side. It's to the side. Now shut up, I'm embarrassed now."
Ron let out a hearty laugh and started walking out of the park to the restaurant he'd made reservations at. "What're you going to do if you need it, 'Mi? Quick little undressing and redressing in public then?" He looked down at her and she looked so mortified it made him laugh all over again.
"I guess I'll hike my dress up and grab it! Where do you think it was the night of the Ball?" Hermione said, crossly.
That just made him picture Hermione yanking that dress up her thighs. He took a deep breath and squinted his eyes to search for the painted sign he knew they needed to look for. Inside the restaurant was dark, an old building that had been retrofitted with low lamplight and candles. The hostess led them to a table off toward the back.
Hermione and Ron sank into their chairs, Hermione faced Ron and the wall and Ron faced out toward the rest of the restaurant. More than one man had turned to watch Hermione sit in her chair. He felt a flash of caveman-esque pride that she was there with him. They ordered quickly and settled into a comfortable talk, carefully avoiding his work and other unpleasant conversation.
"We're truly such an odd pair," she laughed suddenly.
He grinned at her but raised his eyebrows.
"Well, what I mean is, it always take such dramatic events for you and me to move. Like magnetic forces control all our movements. They push away or push too hard and we draw together. You ever noticed?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight.
"No. . .what are you on about?" he asked. She lost him at 'magnetic'
"Well, think about it! It took an attack from a troll for us to become friends, the Manor for you to really realize how much we cared about each other, destroying a Horcrux to kiss for the first time, realizing we might die to admit we love each other, leaving and going to Hogwarts before coming back for us to . . . well, you know, the first time," she finished blushing at him.
He studied his hands carefully, a few stray freckles mark the back of his hands. He'd never thought about it before. Every time he thought someone or something might hurt her he stepped closer to her, didn't he? Every instance since they met he'd felt a need to protect her in some way or another. How funny that she was the best with spells and here he was, feeling like he always was the one who needed to be there for her. She was so small and looked so delicate but she was so brave and strong and infuriatingly hell bent on joining himself and Harry in whatever they did.
"I'd never noticed that pattern, actually," he said, covering his short silence.
She leaned back in her chair and studied a spot in the wall above his head. He itched to turn around and look at it but her expression told him that she was simply staring at a spot to think. "It's really something. . . We're really something, you know?" Her tone shifted perceptibly between her sentences and Ron puzzled over what she could possibly mean as the waiter set down their entrees and they started to eat. Something about what she'd said tingled in his stomach strangely. A good strange, but a kind of strange nonetheless.
Hermione regaled him with stories about when she was a little girl after he asked about a couple of her memories he'd seen while they practiced Occlumency. They'd tried again after the blow out in the yard with more success. Neither one could block very well but Hermione had managed to force him out once when he'd gotten closer to a memory about her waking up at Shell Cottage. Hermione's eyes lit up and candlelight danced off of her necklace and hair as she told him about visiting different places with her parents on 'road trips' in their car. She asked him about a few of his memories as well, his family's trip to Egypt that he hadn't told her much about, and his very, dramatically different relationships with each of his brothers.
"So is that why you and Charlie don't seem so close, then?" she asked, pushing her plate back to signal she was done.
"I guess, I mean I'd trust him with my life. . . It's just that we'd just never connected and talked like Bill and I did," he was trying to steer her away from talking about his brothers.
"Hmm, my mum got pregnant when I was about nine," Hermione said. Ron looked up at her in shock.
"You've never told me that before."
"No, I just, well it wasn't that big of a deal, really. People miscarry babies all the time, don't they? It would've been nice to be a big sister I think," a wistful look washed over her face.
"Boy or girl?" Ron asked, picturing Hermione at eleven years old and a smaller version of herself as her younger sibling.
"Oh, they didn't know at the time. I think it was too early," Hermione said before smiling, "I just always wonder about if I would've been nice and taught them things or if I would have been a terror. . . Probably a nightmare. That's about the same age difference as you and Bill and you get on well, though so who knows . . . "
Their meal ended too quickly for Ron's part and they walked back out of the restaurant. The temperature had dropped dramatically and Hermione shivered in a gust of wind.
"You'll catch your death out here, Hermione. Did you bring a jacket?" Ron put an arm around her to pull her close as they walked down the sidewalk.
"No, I can't hide everything up this dress, Ronald," Hermione bit back. He pulled her tighter against his side before deciding to cross the eerily empty street. Ron wished he'd worn a jacket he could offer her. A glimmer of something out of his periphery made him stop. Hermione lurched forward and he caught her by her forearms. In a split second he realized that her arms were totally bare. He hadn't noticed her scars once all evening until he'd felt them with his fingers just now.
"Ron?" she whispered.
"Hush," he commanded in an undertone. Ron looked back over where the glimmer had been and saw nothing. His training had made him paranoid about Disillusionment charms. He couldn't shake the feeling.
"Hermione, get home, I'll sweep the park," he whispered.
"I'm not leaving you," she breathed back and turned in a circle with her wand out.
Nothing happened for several long moments.
"Just being cautious," he muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed.
A hand grabbed his. "Portus," Hermione said lightly. They stood in the backyard together.
Hermione squeezed his hand and sighed happily, "Thank you for tonight, Ron."
"Still your birthday, you know," he cheeked at her.
Mischievous glinting played around her eyes and he followed her in the door. Ron nodded at her, trying to clear his mind of whatever or whoever might have been in the park.
Glad that Harry wasn't downstairs, Ron playfully shoved Hermione into her room before latching the door behind them.
That night, Ron went slowly with the woman he loved, rocking his hips in patterns against her that made her cry out and clutch at his shoulders. He pushed into her as gently as possible, every touch of hers seared his body, tattooing him with her strokes. He inhaled sharply when she came breathing his name over and over. He stole two more exquisite thrusts into her before groaning his release into her.
As she lay there afterwards with her eyes wide and trusting, he drew patterns with his fingers on her cheek.
"'Mione?"
"Hmm?" she blinked back at him, smiling so that the corner of her mouth pushed her cheek against his hand.
"Did you have a good birthday?" he whispered, leaning to hover above her lips.
"Best ever," she breathed back, closing the distance between them.
She fell asleep quickly, with her head on his shoulder. Hermione's fingers twitched in her sleep on Ron's chest. Ron toyed with a few of Hermione's curls with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her. The last thought that skittered across his mind before he fell asleep was that this birthday and every birthday they celebrated from now on was a lucky and blessed gift.