The room gasped as the happy couple spun across the dancefloor, but Ron was not paying them any attention. Instead, he was staring at the full pint of beer in front of him. He was not in a good mood, and if it had been anyone else getting married, he might have even tried to give it a miss.

But it's not every day that two of your dormmates got married, and Seamus and Dean had attended his, so it was only fair that Ron showed his face at theirs.

He heard his wife let out a wistful sigh, and out of the corner of his eyes, he watched her turn to face him.

"Do you want to dance?"

He wanted nothing more than to dance with her right now, but he felt so heavy as if he wouldn't even be able to move his limbs. The mood was unfamiliar for him, and he could only liken it to wearing the Horcrux around his neck again.

"Not really," he replied. "Why don't you go and see if Harry fancies a spin?"

"I'd rather dance with my husband. Come on, Ron, please?"

He felt a heavy sigh escape his lips but started to push himself out of his chair anyway. When they were in the first throes of romance, he'd made a promise to himself that he would do everything to keep Hermione happy, even if he didn't feel cheerful himself. He held his hand out for her dutifully, and she took it and let him lead her to the dancefloor.

Other couples started to fill the space around them, and Ron could feel Hermione's eyes burning into him. But his gaze was fixed firmly over her shoulder at an odd-looking spot on the wall.

It just wasn't fair.

He'd been having a string of bad luck in work, culminating in ten Muggles losing their life because he and Harry hadn't been able to capture the culprit in time. He knew he was unreasonably beating himself up about it, but he just couldn't shift the sound of their screams from the front of his brain.

Suddenly, Hermione's fingers were on his chin, pushing his face to look at her.

"Be here with me, please?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry." His eyes met hers, and for the first time, he noticed how sad she looked. He hadn't even realised the impact his mood had on her, and he felt worse because of it. He kissed the top of her head. "You look so beautiful tonight."

She started to reply, but it seemed like her brilliant mind suddenly had a spark of inspiration. Ron loved the look on her face when that happened. She slid her hand from his neck and down his arm to take hold of his hand.

"Come with me."

They weaved in between dancers, finally exiting the dancefloor on the opposite end they'd entered. Hermione pulled at his hand harder as she led him down the corridor he was pretty sure ended up at the toilets.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

She checked twice, clearly making sure nobody saw them before opening the door and pulling him inside quickly. She let go of him long enough to set a locking and silencing charm before throwing her wand to the side.

"Kiss me," Hermione pleaded desperately with him as she pushed his dress robes off his shoulders and started to work on his tie.

"Hermione Jean Granger!"

For the first time in a long while, a genuine smile spread across his lips, and his heart started to thump in his chest. "We are both very important Ministry officials and two-thirds of the Golden Trio. A lot of people have very high expectations for us. A lot of the Wizarding community is out there and could walk in at any minute!"

She ignored his weak attempt at a protest and started to tear at his shirt, untucking it from his trousers before making quick work of the buttons. He felt a buzz of electricity every time her fingers grazed against his skin. The shirt eventually hit the floor with his robes.

"I've locked and silenced the door. Nobody is getting in. If you don't kiss me right now…"

"Then what?" Ron raised his eyebrows, deciding to give his wife what she wanted. He started to help her with his belt and fly, desperate to feel her too now. It had been a while. In fact, Ron couldn't even remember the last time they'd made love, and a guilty feeling washed over him. He was an awful husband.

"Then I will have to do it myself."

Hermione suddenly attacked him, crushing her mouth against his. She didn't even wait for permission, taking advantage of his moan to slide her tongue past his lips. He stepped out of his trousers, kissing her back passionately as he placed both hands firmly on her backside and lifted her onto a nearby sink.

She laughed against his lips, and the vibrations sent a pulse of pleasure straight to his cock. He didn't think he'd ever been this hard or desperate for her. Okay, maybe before they got together when he'd been forced to watch her from across the Gryffindor common room. But that had been before he knew how her lips tasted or how explicit she was when he was doing something she enjoyed.

He pushed his boxers down enough before slipping his hand under her skirt, making quick work of removing her knickers. Just as he was about to enter her, Hermione rested a hand against his. He frowned at her. He could tell she wanted this just as bad as him. "You don't want this?"

"I do," Hermione smirked, locking her legs around his waist and pulling him close to her. "I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you. You are a brilliant Auror, a great friend and brother and the world's best husband. And I'm not only saying that because I want you to fuck me."

Her casual use of a swear word drove another pulse of passion through his body. He bloody loved it when she swore. There were no words to describe how turned on he was right now or how much he loved her, so instead, he pushed the spaghetti strap off her shoulder and took a hard nipple in his mouth. He also loved it when she didn't wear a bra.

"You're so damn sexy, Ron," she continued her praise of him as she told hold of him and guided him to her. She groaned as he buried himself right to the hilt. "Merlin, you're such a good lover."

"Bloody hell, Hermione." He nipped at her jawline as he started thrusting inside her, keeping up with the fast, desperate pace of their tryst. He watched as her eyes closed, and her head fell back against the mirror as he continued to paint frenzied kisses down her neck.

"I love you, Ron," she was breathless as she clung onto him tightly, her fingernails digging into his skin so hard, it almost broke the skin. He was already getting close—like he said, it had been a while—but he knew he had to see to her first before he came. He pushed her skirt up higher so that he could slide his thumb to her clit, pressing on it in the way he knew she loved.

She started to tremble underneath him, her walls clenching and releasing him in that most delightful way, but he didn't let up his pace, continuing to thrust hard as he chased his own climax. It didn't take long before he felt his release, shaking from the sheer intensity of the moment.

He placed his lips back on her, kissing her softly as he eventually slowed down. Finally, he pulled away and carefully helped her off the sink, laughing as she wobbled from the effect of his assault.

"I love you too," he smirked as he started to clean himself up.

"Do you feel a bit better now?" She straightened her dress, laughing at his small protest as she pulled the strap up to cover her breast.

"A little," he responded truthfully as he finished getting dressed. "I just feel so bad about those Muggles."

"I know, love. But I promise you things will get better, okay? Just—just talk to me, please? I don't like being shut out."

He nodded and stooped down so that she could sort out his hair. Once they were satisfied they were decent, they laced their fingers together and cautiously left the bathroom.

If Hermione said things would be okay, then he had to trust that eventually, they will be. She hadn't been wrong yet.