AN: Here's a surprise update and the FINAL chapter of this story. And that's another one done and dusted! I hope you've enjoyed it!
Ron and Hermione go for breakfast.
You walked out on me,
Cast me out to sea,
Set me off into uncharted waters
Someday soon you'll see that I'm the only one for you
- I'm the Only One for You, Dewayne Satterfield (unknown)
Ron
What a whirlwind the day has been. From Robards finally accepting my plan and allowing me to deliver it to the whole department, passing very quickly over trying to shag Lavender, to my Dad's heart attack and finally landing on the woman standing in front of me. I was suffering from whiplash from the number of emotions I'd gone through in the short span of twenty-four hours.
But for now, I could only focus on the last emotion. I was so bloody happy; it felt like I was riding a Hippogriff high above London.
Hermione Granger loved me. She actually bloody loved me. It only took almost a year, so many shags I'd lost track of them, a whole set of rules that neither of us had followed and a break-up of sorts for her to realise it.
And here she was, the words falling out of her mouth with so much honesty, I felt like a bludger had flown straight into my stomach. What she was saying stole all the air out of my lungs. It was better than every time we won the Quidditch House Cup and the moment when I found myself on a chocolate frog combined. It was even better than Robards telling me he'd finally read my plan and thought it was a good idea.
I'm not an idiot, although sometimes I know that I can act like one. There was still a lot of stuff Hermione and I needed to discuss. I wanted to get right to the bottom of what caused her to act the way she did, and I felt that she owed me that because of all the heartache it'd caused. I also wanted to come clean about my attempts to sleep with Lavender. Not because it was any of Hermione's business, but if we wanted to make a proper go of things, we needed to do so with a clean slate.
But we had all the time in the world to do that. For now, it was okay just to be with her.
The kisses Hermione bestowed on me were familiar and new, all at the same time. The girl knew just how much pressure to use to drive me wild. The feel of her warm body pressed against mine caused a stirring against the constraints of my jeans that I was keen to explore with her, but my bastard siblings had other ideas, interrupting us with a wolf-whistle.
Flipping them the finger in a well-practised way without even having to look at them, I waited for Hermione to turn her attention back to me.
"I love you," she admitted with a quiet voice.
An adorable blush crept up over her cheeks, making those bloody damn flobberworms perform their merry little dance in my stomach yet again.
"That's good," I finally responded once I'd gathered enough of my thoughts to form a coherent sentence. "But first, I need to test you."
Her face fell, and her grip on me loosened. For a moment, I worried that she might turn and run away from me. Although part of my brain told me that I needed to be careful around her and not push Hermione too far and scare her away, the other wanted to tease her and play. There was no way I was going to let the witch go this time. I'd told her so, and I bloody meant it.
"Test me?" She frowned as she pulled her hand out of mine.
Snatching her wrist, I pulled Hermione back to me, pressing my forehead against hers. A shiver travelled straight down my spine as our skin made contact, and I almost fell deep into her warm chocolate brown eyes. After stealing a quick kiss, I took a deep breath, building up the tension to an almost unbearable amount before finally asking, "Hermione Granger, will you go to breakfast with me?"
Her frown dissolved into an instant laugh, and she threw herself at me. Her mouth found mine in a passionate snog as her arms and legs wrapped around my body, capturing me in a vice-like grip.
I'd fantasised about this moment for ages, since the first time Hermione slept with me. Sure, we'd kissed during sex and sometimes when we weren't having sex, too, but it was without commitment or mutual feelings. As our arrangement progressed, our make-out sessions started to mean more to me than they did to her, or so I thought, and the unreciprocated love almost burnt me.
But this kiss was full of love, causing my heart to pound erratically against my rib cage and my knees to go weak (yes, it happens to men, too). The snog was so impressive; it made me stop caring that it was ridiculous o'clock in the morning or that almost my whole family were watching us.
I'd almost forgotten I'd asked her a question. Pulling away just enough, I licked my lips and tried to stick my thoughts back together. She had a wicked charm, that witch. One kiss from her, and I lost track of my common sense.
"Is that a yes?" I breathed.
"Yes," she moaned in reply, her hot breath on my skin sending chills down my spine. She made no attempt to release me.
I couldn't believe it. But I just needed to be sure. "Yes?"
She nodded at me, every movement of her head forcing our noses to rub together. "It's about time, don't you think?"
⁂
I wish I could have just marched off into the sunset with Hermione right there and then, but we were still standing in front of St. Mungo's, and the distant sniggers of my siblings indicated that the pervs were still watching us. Also, I'd promised my dad at least one muggle fishing magazine, and he was still inside the hospital recovering from his near-death experience, so just disappearing felt entirely inappropriate.
"I just better…." I let out a heaving breath, still struggling to fill my lungs again after that hungry kiss with Hermione.
"...check if it's okay for us to leave?" She finished my sentence with a knowing smile and a squeeze of the hand.
Nodding, I pulled her back towards the entrance of the hospital.
"So, uhm, do you all mind if I disappear for an hour or so? I think Dad will be okay, and I promised I'd go and pick up some bits and bobs for him. Only I'm starving, so we might go and grab an early breakfast."
"Breakfast, 'eh? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?" Bill quipped.
"Oh, I don't know, Ronnie," George added. "Dad is seriously unwell."
"Yeah, why should you be able to wander off for sex whilst the rest of us wait around for news? Unless you are going for breakfast, in which case, maybe we all could come?" his twin brother added.
"Come on now, leave them alone." Ginny rounded on our brothers, her hands on her hips and a fiery look on her face that reminded me of Mum. All five of them stepped back from her, fear crossing their features. It was clear she wasn't going to take any shit from any of them.
"Do you five know how long I have waited for Hermione and Ron to sort their shit out and get together properly? It has been the single most painful thing in my life, and I get hit by bludgers daily! Now Harry and I don't have to babysit them and can concentrate on our relationship. Let them go and have fun. Dad is fine, Mum is fine. Harry and I will be heading home to sleep soon, and so should the rest of you."
"Thanks, Gin," I murmured, letting go of Hermione to give my sister a tight hug.
"Go on," she replied in my ear. "I'll sort these clowns out. I'm so happy for you two."
Letting go of Ginny, I held my hand out to Hermione with raised eyebrows, then nodded my head down the street in a move that I hoped said, 'let's get out of here'. As soon as she mouthed her agreement, I laced our fingers together then led her away from my bonkers family. I was so happy that we were finally on the same page that I couldn't resist swinging our hands between us.
"You look amazing tonight, by the way, 'Mione," I told her once we'd put enough distance between the hospital and us. "I like seeing you in a dress. Although, don't get me wrong," I added as an afterthought before I completely insulted her, "I like you in whatever clothes you wear. And no clothes. But I think dresses make you look extra pretty."
"Thank you. Padma, Seamus and I were supposed to go out into London. You don't look too bad yourself."
"Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on!" I grinned over at her then continued our walk down the street.
⁂
One of the best parts about living in London was that the city didn't sleep, meaning no matter what you were in search of, you could probably find it, even at an obscure hour of the morning. And if Muggle London didn't have it, you could bet the magical side of the city would.
It didn't take long for us to locate a greasy spoon cafe buried in a dark street behind The Strand. Its yellow strip lighting cast a welcoming glow out onto the street, although as we drew nearer, the scent the place was giving off was less than appealing.
We stepped across the threshold, ignoring the smell of stale coffee and layers of grease. A tired-looking waiter was sat in a chair in the corner, flicking through a dog-eared copy of Playboy. He threw the magazine down in surprise as soon as he caught sight of us.
"Whatcha doing here?" he questioned, a frown on his face.
I ignored his surly tone as I replied, "Can we get a table? Maybe in the window?"
I didn't blame him for the less than welcoming greeting. He was probably used to dealing with drunks and other unsavoury characters. Still, he was cordial enough as he led us to the peeling Formica table in the window, illuminated by the bright red and blue 'Open' sign. Passing us each a laminated menu, he grinned.
"I get you coffee," he chirped in a thick Eastern-European accent before toddling away to do so.
As soon as he was gone, our attention turned to the menus.
"There's so much to choose from," Hermione mused.
"Yeah, there is a lot on the menu. But everyone knows what you have to order in a place like this!"
She arched an eyebrow at me. "And what's that?"
Twenty minutes later, our waiter placed two Full-English breakfasts in front of us. I'd ordered us the works, including black pudding and fried bread. A round of toast followed, along with two mugs of steaming coffee and a glass of juice each to finish.
"Bon Appetit!" I grinned at her as I scooped up my cutlery and immediately began to eat, not noticing Hermione's initial hesitation until she cleared her throat. "What's up?" I questioned through a mouthful of bacon.
"It's just so greasy." Hermione wrinkled her nose up in disgust, and for a brief moment, she looked like she might throw up.
"That's the whole point of it." I shovelled beans into my mouth with a groan. "It makes it so good."
She stabbed her fork at a sausage, wincing at the amount of fat that oozed out of it. Studying it for a moment, she finally shrugged and lifted the meat to her mouth, taking a massive bite before closing her eyes. "Oh fuck, this is heaven."
My jaw dropped, and a longing whimper escaped the vast cavity as she tucked in with gusto. Just watching her devour her breakfast and enjoy it turned me on, and the noises she made as she did only made the desire for her grow even harder.
"Fucking hell, Hermione," I growled.
She gave me a wicked look then tangled our legs together under the table, her foot stroking my lower calf. "It's so tasty, Ron."
We continued to eat our breakfast, barely saying another word until Hermione set her cutlery down for a breather. She laughed as I shoved a whole hashbrown into my mouth in one go.
"I'm surprised you made such a big deal about inviting me to breakfast. If I'd witnessed this performance before we started sleeping together, then I don't think I could have carried on with our arrangement."
"What do you mean?" I stopped chewing, and Hermione laughed at me. I probably looked like an overgrown, ginger man-hamster with my cheeks stuffed full of tasty goodness, but I wanted to hear it from her.
"You eat like a baby dinosaur. Honestly, Ron, it's disgusting. You don't even chew."
A giggle bubbled from my lips, and I swallowed hard before I spat chewed-up potatoes all over my date. If Hermione felt able to criticise me so openly and cruelly, it meant that things between us were back on track.
"I just love breakfast so much. Almost as much as I love you. Do you think you could get used to it?" I beamed over at her.
"Well, if you continue to say things like that, I could." She took a long sip of her juice, her smile still radiating from behind the glass. "In fact, I was hoping we could do this a lot more."
Another flutter of excitement travelled over my body. "Really? If that's the case, I think we should probably come up with some new rules. I'd like to start calling you pet names, like honey and babe."
"Oh Ron, seriously? Out of all the names in the world, you come up with two of the most misogynistic ones?"
"Well, there has to be at least one you like?"
She pondered it for a moment. "What about sweetheart or love? They sound nice."
"Fine. Sweetheart or love, it is. But, I'll only use them and not the others if you allow us to snuggle."
"That's already on my list. Not only that, but I'm going to allow you to hold my hand."
"All the time?" I gasped, feigning shock. "This is all moving so fast, Hermione." I thought about the following rule for a moment, a smirk creeping over my face as it came to me. "What if I left the door open while I peed? Or even better, you let me come and use the toilet when you're showering or brushing your teeth."
"I might have to veto tha—"
"In that case, I'm going to do it all the time," I interrupted her with a laugh.
"Then you're not allowed to moan when my hair clogs up your shower."
"Deal!" I clinked my glass against hers, even though the thought of all that hair down my drains made me gag. I took a long sip of my coffee, basking on what all these rules insinuated: it would mean we were together. I would agree to anything as long as it kept Hermione happy.