Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
A/N: Well, this is it folks! Thanks so much for riding the angsty train with me. This fic means a lot, and I feel like the time spent writing it was a huge period of growth for me, so THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for reading and commenting.
I can't end the story without a special shout-out to my betas and the best hype team I could ask for: accio-broom, adenei, sm_jl, be11atrixthestrange, and mina_roman.
Happy sweet home Ottery!
P.S. This chapter includes some iconic lines directly from the movie. I do not take credit for them, but see if you can spot them!
Sweet Home Ottery
Chapter Twelve
I slept under the pines
And they sang your name
Stared at the stars in the night
And I saw your face
And I can picture your silhouette
I sway in the sunset
It feels like a thousand breathes a thousand steps
I know right here and now that
I'd go anywhere with you
I'd go anywhere with you
I know you feel the same thing that I do
'Cause I'd go anywhere, anywhere with you
Anywhere With You - Mat Kearney
"Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it." —Elizabeth Gilbert
Present Day
Hermione's heels click-clack against the solid concrete surface, echoing through the large open-air Atrium in the Australian Ministry of Magic. The skylight-covered ceiling allows in the rising sun, showcasing the start of a new day that's full of promises. It's too early for many witches and wizards to be at work, but Hermione couldn't wait a moment longer.
Striding with purpose down a long corridor, there is only one destination she has in mind. She's determined not to get distracted — no more meandering, dragging her feet or delaying what she came here to do.
The lights are on in the Minister's office and she breathes a sigh of relief. Hermione knocks once, then twice, waiting with untempered patience until the doorknob turns and unlocks itself by a force of magic, allowing her entry into the grand, esteemed office.
Minister Ebonwood looks up from a stack of papers on his desk as she approaches, his eyes widening at her unexpected arrival. "Miss Granger! You're back."
"Hello, sir." She clasps her hands in front of her, maintaining a poised stance.
"When did you arrive? I assume you've gotten your affairs in order?"
Hermione's heart hammers against her chest, slow at first with a gradual increase the more she stands in the presence of her boss. "I have."
"Brilliant." Harwell grins, extending his arm forward. "Do you have the documentation?"
"I do."
She withdraws her wand from the inside of her coat pocket before waving a single piece of paper out of her handbag and onto the mahogany wood desk. The Minister's gaze travels down to read the words on the parchment.
"It's my letter of resignation."
His eyes snap up as his lips part in shock. "Miss Granger, I-"
"I've truly appreciated the work I've put in here and the support you've given me." Hermione normally finds it impolite to interrupt an authoritative figure, but she needs to speak her truth before she loses all nerve. "But if I'm going to change the world, I don't want to do that by compromising who I am and the person I want to be. I will not lower myself to the demands that this law insinuates."
Minister Ebonwood leans back in his chair, tilting his head to the side as he listens intently to Hermione's explanation. Undeterred by his scrutinizing eye, she rambles on.
"I've spoken with Minister Shacklebolt at the British Ministry. I am going to rejoin the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and get to work straight away on abolishing this heinous law so that Muggle-borns, myself included, will be able to do the job we are more than qualified for — without any restrictions."
"You know, we'd be happy to keep you at the Ministry here while you work through that process-"
"I know." And Hermione does know. She's grateful for how supportive the community in Australia has been, but it's time to close her chapter here. She doesn't have to achieve a certain status, or level of clearance within the Ministry, to declare her time spent in this country a success.
Minister Ebonwood processes the information that Hermione has presented to him with a pensive gaze. "I gather that your journey home was informative."
Informative, indeed. No amount of words can describe the emotional whiplash she's put herself through over the last three weeks. All she knows is she's made it out on the other side, and she finally, finally knows what she wants.
"Returning to England, I realized something." Hermione stares out the window just behind Harwell's head, watching as an owl happens to fly off into the distance at the same exact moment. "It's my home. That's where I belong."
"I see." The Minister clicks his tongue, twirling his quill between his fingers in such a way that it raps again and again against the solid wood. Then he chuckles to himself and smiles. "It's disappointing to see you go, Miss Granger, but I fully respect your decision."
"Thank you. And it's Granger-Weasley, sir."
He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, taking on the appearance of someone engaging in deep, methodical thinking. "Of course. I wish you all the best in your endeavors, Miss Granger-Weasley."
As Hermione walks out of her former office for the last time without looking back, a massive grin works its way onto her face. For the first time in a long time, she knows exactly where she is headed next, and what she hopes is waiting for her once she arrives.
"She's here."
Ginny's deep brown eyes widen as she stands frozen in the doorway, staring at the person who materialized right in front of her only seconds ago.
"She's here?" Harry's head appears from behind his girlfriend, and he's grinning like a fool.
Hermione's cheeks increase in temperature as the pace of her breathing quickens. Her stomach flips when her ears attune to the boisterous chatter inside the house. What is she interrupting? Who is inside? Her knees begin to shake as she's suddenly faced with the moment in which she can find out whether or not she's coming home to start over, alone, or if someone else is willing to remain at her side. She nearly chokes on her own breath as the thought consumes her.
Focus, Hermione.
"Hi, Harry."
"She's here!" Molly Weasley places her hands on Harry's shoulders, not-so-gently shoving him out of the way so that she can outstretch her arms in the direction of the new arrival. "Oh, Hermione, love."
The witch grunts as the matriarch wraps her up in a tight hug, effectively cutting off her circulation. "Come in, come in."
Mrs. Weasley ushers Hermione inside, whose heart pounds inside of her chest once she realizes what exactly she's walking into.
"Darling! You're here."
Jean Granger lifts her glass of Butterbeer with one hand, keeping her other firm on Hugh's shoulder. Hermione's father sends her a wink from his seated position.
Why in Merlin's name are her parents at the Burrow? She's filled with the compulsive desire to wipe the beads of perspiration from her forehead. Too many sets of eyes are on her now, and it takes everything in her not to turn and bolt out the door. But she doesn't, she can't, as soon as she remembers her purpose.
"Mum? Dad?" A nervous sound that she hopes can be interpreted as a laugh escapes her lips. "Wow, I, uh, really wasn't expecting this large of an audience."
"Ah! She's here!" Arthur walks into the room, giving Hermione a curt nod before taking the empty seat next to her father.
She really wishes everyone would stop saying she's here, as if it's such a surprise — well, perhaps she deserves it. Hermione's gaze darts around the room of expectant faces looking back at her. Shifting side to side, her palms begin to sweat so much that she has to wipe them against her jeans.
Although the room is overcrowded, noisy, and way too hot, her search for one person in particular remains frustratingly inconclusive.
"You're at the Burrow," Fred pipes up, speaking to her audience comment, and a mischievous glint forms in his eye. "What else can you really expect?"
She breathes out an impatient sigh. "So, where is-"
"He's outside." George jerks his head towards the back garden. "The brooding git won't come in."
"Don't call your brother a git." Molly reaches a hand out to swipe her son on the back of his head, which the tall redhead evades at the last second.
"What? If I have to listen to another one of his off-tune renditions of Celestina Warbeck's 'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me' one more time, I might have to obliviate myself. If he's not in the attic, he's sulking outside."
Hermione's heart plummets to the ground. "He's been staying at the Burrow?"
"Yeah. Ever since he found out you left for Australia." Harry's lips draw into a thin line as he eyes her through his round-rimmed spectacles. "Again."
"Who told him?" Her sharp gaze flickers over to Molly, knowing that the mother doesn't have the best track record when it comes to keeping secrets. It was Hermione's intention to quietly settle her affairs in Australia, pack the rest of her belongings she left in her flat, and return without a fuss.
The room grows quiet, and an awkward silence fills the air. Hermione grumbles and stomps her way towards the garden, paying no mind to the crowd bearing witness to her temper tantrum. She just needs to find him.
"This house really is too big, sometimes."
"Go get your man!" Ginny calls out just before Hermione closes the door behind her.
She steps out into the misty drizzle that starts to fall from the dark cloudy skies. Laughing inwardly, she recognizes the irony of their habit of getting caught out in the rain.
The soft pitter-patter of the liquid sprinkling onto the overgrown grass catches her attention, and it reminds her of who she is in search of. It doesn't take her long to find him. He's sitting next to the pond with his back facing away from her, and she watches him in silence for a moment as he picks up pebble after pebble from the ground and tosses them into the water. The only sound apart from the steady flow of rain is the sound of gentle splashing as the tiny rocks make contact with the surface of the pond.
Hermione is fully aware that her heart is beating twice as fast as it was when she arrived at the Burrow as she takes a timid step towards Ron, who has yet to notice her. Or if he has, he's choosing not to acknowledge her presence. But in spite of all they've been through together, he's still here, she's still here, and that means everything.
Gathering every bit of strength and courage that she has left, she opens her mouth to speak.
"What are you doing out here in the rain?"
Although Ron's feet had been gliding around the sloshy pond, his limbs seize all movement once he hears her voice. Whoever he had been expecting to come check on him, Hermione gathers that it wasn't her.
Then his body slowly turns as he pushes his wet, copper strands out of his sight so that he can see her fully. Their eyes dance together for several, painful seconds, like two piercing rays at the end of a long, winding tunnel. He comes to a standing position, but doesn't dare to take a step forward.
Hermione has thought a lot about this moment, and what she would say. And she still hasn't a clue if the right words will formulate in order to convey what she's been hiding deep in her soul, but she's about to find out if there are just enough to regain everything she has lost.
"We're still married, you know."
It's hard to see him clearly through the downpour, but she catches the slightest glimpse of the corner of his mouth lifting. "Is that so?"
"And I quit my job."
"You quit your job…" Ron repeats her words as he stares absent-mindedly off into the distance before his head snaps in her direction again. "You quit your job?"
"I realize now-" Hermione's voice cracks as the rain picks up speed, forcing her to shout over the noise. "That home isn't just a place. It's with you. Whether I had stayed, or you had followed me to Australia, I would've felt at home as long as I was with you."
Ron maintains a set jaw and rakes a hand through his hair. "We can't go back."
"Maybe we're not meant to. We aren't the same people we were before." She releases a breathy sound between her lips, halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "And thank Merlin for that, right? Otherwise, we'd be looking at a repeat of five years ago. I don't think either of us wants that."
He takes a large stride forward to close a considerable amount of distance between them. His eyes shine with fierce determination. "And what do you want, Hermione?"
To be no longer consumed by heartache; to be a better and happier version of herself; to feel loved and wanted and appreciated. That's what she wants.
"You are the first boy I ever kissed, Ron. I want you to be the last."
"What was this you said about people not getting second chances? We had our one chance already, right?"
Letting out an indignant huff, Hermione's hands find their way to her hips. "Do you have to be so stubborn all the time?"
"I dunno." He gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Depends on your answer to my question."
Hermione considers his quest for information. The hardened features on his face tells her that he isn't backing down, and neither should she. Still, she's surprised by the next set of words that leave her lips.
"Duel with me."
"Are you mad?" Appearing taken aback by her request, Ron's eyebrows raise high above the fringe on his forehead. "I'm not gonna do that."
"Why? Are you scared?" Hermione lifts her wand out of her pocket before tapping it against her shoulder. "Because I don't want to be anymore."
"Hermione…" Ron shakes his head, preparing to turn away.
"You're scared!" She shouts to attract his attention again. "That's why you're pushing me away. Just like you were scared five years ago!"
Although he no longer meets her gaze straight on, she knows he's considering her theory. And damn it all, she's right.
"Well, I'm not going to run from you this time! So you can either get over your — your fucking pride so we can sort this out, or we can continue to talk circles around each other."
"Did you just-" Shaking his head with the hint of a smirk forming on his face, he pulls his wand out from his pocket slip in one fluid motion. "Fine. Let's duel."
Hermione's fingertips caress the tip of the vinewood as she maneuvers her body so that she is now standing directly in front of Ron, still maintaining a decent distance between their bodies.
She lifts her wand until it's parallel with her face, almost touching her nose, and watches as Ron mimics her action. Regardless of the heavy downpour, and the fact that she can only see an outline of Ron's body through the mystical shower, she's certain of one thing.
The fight is on.
They start by walking slow circles around the muddy grass, taunting their opponent, waiting for each other to make the first move.
"What in Merlin's name are they doing?" A voice hisses off into the distance, momentarily distracting Hermione from her focus.
"It's Ron and Hermione," Harry's distinct voice replies. "Do we ever really know what they're thinking?"
"I think they need this." Ginny chimes in.
Hermione sends a glare in the direction of the Burrow, silently requesting the intrusive family to back off and give the pair some privacy. The disgruntled crew trots off, and as soon as the doors shut — with the notion that the twins likely have an Extendable Ear attached to the inside door — she turns to her dueling partner, her husband, who looks as if his eyes haven't strayed from her at all during the disruption.
"Ready?"
Ron's lip twitches. "As long as you don't kill me."
"Cheeky," Hermione tuts. She bows her head to prepare for the duel, inhaling a deep breath. The pulsing rain picks up in speed as it beats down on top of her head, and she closes her eyes for a moment to focus on the sound.
When she lifts her head, a small squeak leaves her lips. Ron is there, standing so close to her with his piercing sapphire eyes —so blue and frustratingly dark — that all she would have to do is reach up her hand to touch his cheek. It seems he's disregarded all proper rules for duel etiquette.
"What are you-"
His next action matches her thoughts, and he brushes his thumb across her chin before tilting her head up so that she meets his gaze.
"I don't really want to duel you, Hermione. I just want to talk to you."
Hermione blinks at him through the downpour, finding it difficult to focus on his words when she has to clear her eyes of water every five seconds.
"Why are you here?" A sense of urgency fills his voice. "I signed the papers. What's left for us?"
Hermione can't help but smile and tilt her head, wondering how long it's going to take him to work out why for himself.
"Think about it, Ron. You signed the papers. Did you see my signature anywhere?"
A visible gulp rolls down his throat as he searches her eyes — for what, exactly? She isn't quite sure how much clearer she can be.
"What are you saying?"
Hermione lets out an aggravated growl, swiping away the annoying strands of hair plastered to her forehead. "I'm saying that for someone who held onto hope for five years, you're pretty quick to try to let me go right now."
"You think five years is quick?" He challenges her with an eyebrow, and she raises him a second.
"I just mean since I returned. You fell in love a long time ago with a different person than the one who is standing in front of you now, I get it-"
"I'm in love with every version of you." Ron's voice is raw and thick and full of emotion that stirs up the flobberworms in her stomach. "It doesn't matter to me. None of that shit matters. Only you. But I thought you wanted to go, that's why-"
A strangled whimper escapes from the back of her throat, and she places both palms of her hands flat against his chest. The action propels him back a few steps, forcing Hermione to grip onto the front of his soaked shirt, not willing to lose any closeness. Not now; not when there's still more left for her to say. His whole body trembles within her grasp, his chest heaving in and out, water droplets dripping one by one down his nose.
"What I wanted was for you to be happy. And you clearly weren't, so I thought it was because of me, or that I was the problem, and-"
Ron's hands find her shoulder blades, giving her a gentle shake. "You still haven't answered my question."
"I'm here because I love you, too, you frustrating, frustrating wizard!"
Hermione amplifies her voice to combat the rain pounding down atop their heads. A surge of energy courses through her veins and her heart pumps vigorously in her chest.
"I know." Ron's hands slide down her arm to intertwine their fingers together for the briefest of moments before he pulls away. He paces in a circle before pinning his wife with a look so intense that it shakes her to her core. "Fuck, of course I know. But is that enough to solve everything that went wrong between us?"
"It's not." Hermione closes her eyes for the briefest moment before finding his searching gaze again. "I just want the chance to make things right. Please say you'll give me another chance to fix this — to fix us."
Hermione waits on bated breath for his response, and for each second that ticks by in slow deliberation, the desire she encompasses mixes with a bit more trepidation. His lips aren't moving as he stands with an unreadable expression on his face — one so irritating and agonizing all at the same time — yet exudes all of the qualities that made her fall in love with him in the first place. She's practically begging him to piece back together the parts of her heart that have been shattered like the force of Reducto.
"Please, Ron."
His continued silence serves as the final Avada Kedavra straight to her heart.
It's too late.
Hermione's eyes prickle with tears, and all at once she wishes to be anywhere but here. She averts her gaze before he can spot the devastation, determined to make a beeline towards the Burrow when-
"HGW."
Ron tugs on her hand before she can escape, whirling her body around until her chest presses up against his. The force of the movement causes her breath to hitch.
"Why do you want to be married to me anyway? All we ever do is fight."
The air crackles between them, and although a streak of lightning flashes through the night sky, Hermione stays rooted in her spot. A set of words leave her lips without flinching, and she's not able to hide from her desire any longer.
"What comes after all the fighting, arguing, and hurt feelings, Ron? I get to kiss you anytime I want."
Ron's brilliant smile is all she sees, and it's so tender, so sweet, that she doesn't waste a second longer before leaping into his arms and kissing him full on the mouth. He utters a delightful moan as he wraps her up in his embrace, his calloused fingers tangling into her hair. Hermione's mouth folds over his, deeper and deeper, intent on savoring the taste of him. The musky, earthy fragrance of rain and the taste of Ron's warm breath intoxicates all of her senses, and all remaining thoughts in the woman's mind launch into the abyss, no longer serving any importance in this single, life-changing moment.
She's never been just Hermione, and he's never been just Ron —they're a pair, always have been, and it's more obvious than ever that they've each clenched a part of the other's soul without the intention of ever letting go.
When sharing a single breath becomes too much, and oxygen is a necessity, Hermione pulls back just enough to whisper,
"But we are going to therapy this time around."
A lopsided grin forms on Ron's face, appearing amused by her demand. "We are, huh?"
"Oh, Merlin, that was incredibly bossy of me, wasn't it?" Hermione chews on her bottom lip, deflating her shoulders. "I really should have phrased that as a suggestion-"
Ron smashes his fingers against her mouth. "Hermione. Shut it."
"Now who is being bossy?" She mumbles, giving his finger a peck before he removes it.
Ron dips his head low to kiss her again, an action that leaves her brain fuzzy in his wake. She stands on her tiptoes, craving to be even closer to him. His captivating smile forming against her lips almost sends her into a tailspin and it takes everything in her not to climb her way up his body as he showers her with kisses on her cheeks, her jaw, her ear…
His caresses are so gentle, yet powerful at the same time. Nothing could possibly mean more to her in this moment.
"Oi! What the bloody fuck are you two trying to do? Get yourselves killed?" Harry's voice interrupts their passionate snog, and Ron detaches himself from her lips long enough to curse the dark-haired man.
"Piss off, Harry!"
"Get back to the Burrow! It's time for Hermione to redeem herself with some cake!" Their best friend waves the two over, a massive grin lighting up his face as he tilts his head to the sky. "Man, it rains too much in this fucking village, doesn't it?"
Arm in arm, Ron and Hermione emerge inside the magical dwelling, preparing to face every single person that remained supportive through their rough patch, and admittedly put up with their debatable sanity.
The crowded room is full of hopeful gazes and hushed whispers that fall silent as they approach. Hermione squeezes Ron's hand a bit tighter as she tries to quell the stomach-twisting sensation of having all eyes on them.
Ron's voice cuts through the tension. "Okay, well…let's not make a big deal out of this-"
All at once they're surrounded in frenzied merriment, full of bone-crushing hugs and cheek kisses. Ron's hand falls out of Hermione's grasp as their families proceed to do exactly what was requested they not do.
They're barmy — all of them.
But Hermione reckons she is, too, and she loves her close-knit relatives all the same.
"Well, you two are positively drenched! Hold still." Molly tsks, giving her wand a swish, and a stream of hot air blows out of the tip. The charm quickly dries off their soaked clothing.
"Excuse me." Ron pats his mother on the shoulder before squishing himself through the warm bodies to reach for Hermione's hand. "I need to see my wife."
Jean yelps, clapping her hands together with glee. "Oh, you have no idea how thrilled I am to hear you call her that again!"
"I'd like to earn that title, actually." Hermione clears her throat, her cheeks burning as several pairs of eyes pivot in her direction.
A line forms between Ron's brows, puzzlement written all over his face. She pulls her husband close enough to take his hand between both of her own before sucking in a deep breath.
"I never want to forget how much I've loved you for what feels like my whole life. And I know that I'll love you for the rest of it, if you'll have me." Ron's sapphire eyes glisten as she echoes the words he once spoke to her when he proposed.
She giggles, adding, "I really do promise this time."
Her joke earns a chuckle from their family members listening in, but her gaze remains transfixed on the man standing in front of her. Hermione kneels to the floor, finding it difficult to keep holding his hand when dealing with their stark height difference.
The ginger-haired man presses his lips together as if he's trying to hold in a laugh and he looks down at her with a twinkle in his eye.
"Ron Weasley, will you marry me? Again?"
He clucks his tongue and taps his chin. "On one condition."
Hermione's face falters, wondering what he could possibly-
"We commit right now."
Ron pulls Hermione to her feet as she breathlessly whispers, "What?"
"We don't need to plan an official vow renewal ceremony." He tucks a stray curl behind her ear and leans down to press his forehead to hers. "I just need you."
Hermione's heart nearly bursts out of her chest as her gaze falls to his lips that she's dying to kiss again.
"Ahem."
The gentle reminder that they don't have the luxury of privacy breaks the pair from their stupor.
"Oh, look, our family is still here!" Ron says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hermione leans into his shoulder to release a muffled laugh, working hard to hide her sheepish embarrassment. "Perfect."
Ron clasps their hands together between their bodies. His thumb grazes over her knuckles until it lands at the solid gold band on her ring finger. Hermione follows his lead, tracing the outline of his matching band before tucking their joined hands beneath her chin. A faint glow surrounds the connected magical symbols, and a warmth spreads throughout her entire core.
"You're not going to leave this time, are you?" Ron's steady gaze commands her attention, and Hermione lifts her hand to his cheek.
"Never again."
"Sorted." Ron beams, kissing her ring once before slinging an arm around her shoulders. "That's all I needed to know."
They turn to their family, taking in the mutual, confused expressions they share with each other.
"That's it?" Ginny asks through raised eyebrows.
Ron and Hermione shrug, both pleased with the reinstatement of their vows despite the hesitance from their family.
"Well, I do believe it's time to celebrate!" Molly gives her wand another flick, and a three-tiered cake floats in, covered in ivory cream and decorated with ornate wildflowers around the edges of each layer, each one different than the last in a unique and beautiful display. The cake itself is topped with a wood-carved Otter and Jack Russell Terrier, both patronuses stanced to fight, and the comic presentation makes everyone in the room laugh.
"So, Mum. You just happened to have a wedding cake made, did ya?"
Molly avoids her son's scrutinizing gaze, instead handing him a knife to cut with. "It's nothing really."
Ron sections off two small pieces, handing one to Hermione, before giving her a wary glance. "We're going to handle this a bit differently this time, right?"
Hermione winks at him, lightly tapping her square of cake against his. "Of course."
"On the count of three…"
She nods. "One, two-"
Except she doesn't make it to three. Ron smashes his entire piece into her face, catching her so off guard that she sputters through a mouthful of icing. She wiggles her sensitive nose, trying to clear it of cake remnants lodged inside of her nostrils. Her husband's raucous laughter fills the air, closely followed by chuckles from the onlookers.
"Thanks, darling," Hermione mutters as Ron hands her a clean flannel to wipe her face with. Once she's cleared her mess, she brings the slice between her fingers to Ron's lips, and he opens up wide to accept the tasty treat.
The illusion doesn't last long as she squashes the entire piece against his mouth, making sure to paint his whole face in icing, from his forehead down to his chin. Ron remains shell-shocked, mouth parted in disbelief as cake crumbles sprinkle to the floor.
Hermione swipes her finger across his cheek before plunging it into her mouth, savoring the delicious sweetness of the dessert. "Mmm…splendid. Lovely cake, as always, Molly."
Mrs. Weasley covers her face with her hand, suppressing a smile. Hermione turns back to Ron, flashing him a cheeky smirk.
"You've done it, now." A mischievous glint in his eye causes her heart to skip a beat and she can't get away before he smothers her with kisses, effectively covering her freshly cleaned face with cake again.
"Ron!"
He ducks his head just enough to capture her lips in a slow and sensual kiss. Hermione can't help but melt into his arms as any irritation over the mess they've made dissolves. She circles her arms around his neck, allowing her lips to fold over his once, twice more, before pulling back. Ron waves his wand and all traces of their dessert battle disappear.
"Kiss again! Kiss again!" The crowd chants.
Ignoring them all, Ron holds out his hand for Hermione to take.
"I do believe I owe you a dance, Mrs. Granger-Weasley."
He doesn't wait for her response before twirling his squealing wife in his arms. They fell into step with each other, letting the rhythm control their movements as all others fade to the background.
Hermione's body tingles in delight as Ron tangles her fingers with his. He draws her close to his chest and she re-loops her arms around his neck. She tries to withdraw her hand to brush away wisps of her hair, but he clutches onto her before she can get away.
His lips press against her ear and Hermione releases a content sigh before resting her head on his shoulder.
Despite the heart-crushing pain she's managed over the past five years, this moment with Ron — cradled inside the protective circle of his arms — is the dream she's actually wanted to experience for so long.
As her husband sways them slowly from side to side, Hermione's gaze travels over to her parents. She locks eyes with her father, just long enough to see his eyes well up with tears. Her mum and dad display mutual expressions of pride as they tilt their heads together, fondly watching the young couple. Jean blows her daughter a kiss which Hermione returns.
I love you, she mouths to both of them before pressing her cheek against Ron's, murmuring a separate set of words for his ears only.
"I'm gonna love you always, RBW."
Ron's head falls back in laughter, clearly impressed with her ability to throw his use of initials back at him. His hand slides dangerously low down her backside as his lips brush against her ear, sending a tingle down her spine.
"I can't wait to go home with you."
Home.
Five years later
"Rosie, darling, please hurry! We've got a lot on the agenda for today!"
A young, lively girl with a growing head of ginger curls gazes up at her mum. A mixture of wonder and confusion flickers over her face.
"Hermione, she's three." Ron appears beside his wife, an airy scoff leaving his lips. "All she has on her agenda today is to eat, destroy some fucking shit, sleep, and repeat. Not necessarily in that order, too, the little bugger."
"Ron." She covers her young daughter's ears, as if that will shield her from the crude language she's already been exposed to. Rose flashes her parents her best wide, toothy smile, a look that so perfectly resembles the girl's father.
Her ginger-haired husband grunts from the pressure their youngest baby imposes on him. Their son, Hugo, bounces in his sling strapped to his father's chest. Ron bends over to kiss the small tuft of red hair on the joyful baby's head, a gesture that makes Hermione's heart flutter.
Hugo squeals and wiggles his legs, reaching his tiny hands out towards his mother. Hermione grins and hoists Rose up on her hip before walking forward. Ron wraps an arm around her waist, and together they form a warm circle around Hugo.
"Baby!" Rose pokes her brother on the cheek, making her parents chuckle.
Ron brushes his hand over his wife's cheek, bringing Hermione's gaze up to meet his. "What's really bothering you, love?"
"It's just — it's Rose's first time in Australia, and I just want it to be memorable. I want your first time in Australia to be pleasant and-"
"Don't be nervous." Ron interrupts her tangent before she spirals into a full blown panic. "Let's leave the past in the past, yeah? 'Sides, that's why we're here, remember? To make new memories — happier ones, this time."
"You're right." He manages to ease her worries without much effort, and she rewards him with a peck on the lips. "You're absolutely right!"
"Ew, Mummy! Daddy!"
"I've got a kiss for you too, Rosie!" Ron roars like a monster, peppering her neck with smooches that make the young girl giggle and shriek.
"Do you still want to stop by the Ministry to deliver your news?" He asks Hermione after all settles down.
A burst of happiness washes over her. A law was passed several years ago now, allowing Muggle-borns to take up leadership positions in the workplace without restraint. After a copious amount of hard work and dedication, she's thrilled to be able to share with her former mentors that she not only passed the law, but took it a step further and implemented a clause to nullify all remaining prejudicial laws that cited Muggle-borns as unworthy of magic.
"Of course. But first…" She transfigures a nearby plant into her favorite kind of wildflower, a shade of bright red, before handing it to Rose, who eagerly accepts the gift.
"Hey, Flower." Hermione plants her daughter's feet on the ground before crouching to her eye level. "What do you say? Should we take a picture for Nana and Bampy Granger? They'd love to see you in your pretty dress they bought for you."
Rose bobs her head up and down, holding up her flower and striking a pose. The kid was made for the camera.
"Ron, get in there with her!"
Her husband kneels beside their daughter and uses his long and lanky fingers to tickle her little sides. As the camera flashes on their sunny faces, Hermione knows she has captured her new favorite moving portrait and already can't wait to display it on the fireplace mantle.
Her family is a vision of everything she has ever wished for.
For now, they will enjoy a lovely holiday in a country full of wonder. Then Hermione will leave with her family, taking nothing but happy memories back with her.
Back to her sweet home in Ottery St. Catchpole.
Until next time xx