Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

A/N: A slightly steamy but sweet domestic Romione fluff. Ron injures himself on a mission and Hermione takes it upon herself to take care of him. Tumblr prompt: "I'm so proud of you."

My Gryffindor

"It's okay, Hermione, just a dislocated shoulder. Nothing a little Skelegro couldn't fix!"

"That's a pretty cavalier thing to say about your life, Ron!"

Ron couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. There was something about the way Hermione fussed over him that warmed his heart. He often loved riling her up, although he knew it didn't always bode well for him in the end.

He leaned even further into his girlfriend's side, impressed by how she was, quite literally, carrying all of their weight as they took careful steps towards the sofa. Ron eased himself down onto the cushions, wincing in pain as his tender shoulder collided with the armrest.

"Ron! You're supposed to be taking it easy — not just throwing your body around like you're on your broom!"

"Relax, woman, it was an accident," Ron mumbled, making a very conscious attempt to roll his eyes in a subtle way so that she didn't notice. One look at the expression on her face told him that she didn't care for his comment about her relaxing — best not to pet the cat that was already hissing.

Hermione stomped out of the room, returning only a few moments later cradling an assortment of vials in her hands. She placed them in an organized fashion on the table next to the sofa before retrieving her wand. With a swish and flick she levitated a piece of parchment over and scanned the contents of the letter.

"You'll be on a very strict potion regimen for a week, and the healers said that you'd need to keep your shoulder as still as possible. Which means no disapparating, no flooing, and absolutely no flying!"

Ron sighed as he watched Hermione scurry about the room for a few more minutes, busying herself with mundane tasks, before he finally called out to her.

"Hermione, love? Come sit down, please."

His tone wasn't demanding, but it also wasn't as warm as it could've been. However, it was enough for Hermione to pause her to-do list and make the hesitant walk over to him. She sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, giving him a wary glance.

Ron was frustrated by the amount of distance she put between them, and wriggled himself close enough to her so that he could take her hand. "What's really going on here?"

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears, and Ron was now on high alert. Although he figured she was frustrated with him over his close escape from death, he didn't want to see her cry over it.

He never wanted to see her cry.

"I-I missed you so much, and when I got the Patronus—" Hermione hiccuped, burying her face into her hands as her body shook with quiet sobs.

His gut twisted in all sorts of directions, almost making him ill. He understood exactly how she was feeling. If he ever got a Patronus that her life had been put in danger like that….he swallowed hard. It was best not to think about it, for he was sure he would go mad.

"C'mere."

Ron opened his one free arm, and she tucked her warm body into his in an instant. He kissed the top of her head, keeping his nose buried in her curls. She smelled like Hermione and he felt as if he could finally breathe after an intense day. "S'alright, love. I'm here now."

Ron rubbed her shoulder, tracing a pattern of freckles that resembled a heart along her skin. They sat in deep stillness for several minutes, finding peace in each other's arms.

"I shouldn't have gone into the field without back-up. I was stupid."

Hermione lifted her head, placing a hand on his cheek forcing him to look her straight in the eye. "Don't do that — don't say that about yourself. I may be so incredibly furious right now, but the emotion I'm feeling the most at the moment is pride. I am so proud of you, Ron Weasley."

Ron's own eyes glistened with tears, and he blinked to dispel them. He would never tire of hearing Hermione say that she was proud of him.

"You showed immense courage and bravery out there. And despite the huge chunk of my heart that leaves with you every time you step through that fireplace over there, I will never stop being proud of you." Hermione placed a hand over his heart, never breaking their gaze.

"A true Gryffindor. My Gryffindor."

He was the luckiest sod on the planet.

Ron tangled his fingers into her curls, and brought their heads closer. "I love you so much."

Hermione nuzzled her nose against his. "I love you more than you love chocolate frogs and Quidditch combined!"

Ron raised his eyebrows, a slow grin spreading across his lips. "Really? That much, huh?"

Hermione only nodded, and her eyes fell to his lips as he watched her tongue dart out to lick her own.

All of the blood pumped straight to his core, and he wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body.

Hermione must've seen the desire in his eyes, and she started shaking her head. "Ron, we can't. The healers said—"

Ron pushed Hermione's long curls behind her shoulders, giving him free access to her neck. His lips pressed soft kisses along her skin, making Hermione roll her head back in pleasure. He knew she was caving already.

"Fuck what the healers said. I'll deal with any pain coming my way, but what I can't deal with is not having you in my arms for a second longer."

Ron's words must have lit a fire underneath her, and before Ron could even process what was happening, she swung one leg over his body to straddle his hips.

Ron groaned at the pressure against his very evident arousal in his trousers, his possessive hands flying back to cup her bum.

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?" Hermione whispered as she nibbled on his ear.

Hermione tightened her arms around his neck, and the friction between them was maddening. As his hands traveled north and south along the curves of her body, he knew he never wanted to relinquish the sensation of being consumed by her.

Without answering, Ron sealed her mouth with a kiss, hoping that he could show her instead.

He loved her, and she loved him, and all he wanted to do was to show her — in every single way.

Clothes shed, and breaths intertwined, they were soon joined together. As Hermione moved on top of him, he was filled with an emotion he could only describe as bliss.

The love he felt for the amazing witch in his arms was all-encompassing. He knew, without any doubt or a single thought of hesitation, that the ring he had hidden in his wardrobe was meant for her.

As they let go together, and Ron spotted the passion behind her eyes, he was content, for now, knowing that he was home from his mission.

He was home because that's where Hermione was. His Gryffindor.