Ron had been enjoying a delightful nap when he heard the floo downstairs in the living room activate. It woke him up, but only enough for him to be in that pleasant half-asleep state, where you're not sure if you're genuinely awake or still asleep.

His pick-up Quidditch game had been a disaster from start to finish, and the unrelenting wind and rain had only been a minor contributing factor. And to make it worse, his team had lost. So Ron had turned down the after-game drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, deciding instead to have a beer at home and a long, hot shower while he waited for Hermione, who would probably be more than willing to cheer him up.

Ron opened one eye, watching sleepily as his girlfriend tiptoed around their room, carefully putting her new purchases away.

"Did you buy me anything?"

Hermione stopped what she was doing, a smile erupting on her face as she glanced over at the bed. "Maybe. I thought you were taking a nap?"

"I was, but then my girlfriend sense started to tingle."

"Girlfriend sense," Hermione tutted. She climbed onto the bed, eagerly snuggling under his raised arm. "Harry said your game didn't go so well?"

"Lost six hundred to twenty, didn't we. Didn't stand a chance against a team with Oliver and Katie on it. Even the Canons had better odds."

"Oh, you poor thing. So how come you decided to skip a drink with your teammates and miss the opportunity to drown your sorrows? I was fully expecting to have to side-apparate you home from the pub."

"Harry said Ginny had messaged that you were on your way home. I thought I'd come and wait for you instead."

"Were you hoping I would kiss you better?"

She didn't need to ask Ron twice, nor did he have to reply for Hermione to know what he wanted. Instead, he just pulled her closer and puckered up his lips. There was a short second's wait, and then she was pressed against him, kissing him slowly and tenderly.

He let himself sink into her, wrapping both his arms around her tightly. Whilst one hand tangled in her mess of curls, the other slid down her arm slowly, stroking every inch of it. He got closer to her hand, planning on tangling their fingers together when he felt a strange lump on the underneath of her wrist.

Frowning, Ron pulled away.

"What's this? Are you hurt?" He pushed himself into a sitting position, holding her wrist in one hand as his fingers of the other reached for the bottom of her sleeve. He was desperate to reveal what she was hiding.

"Oh, that? It's nothing." Hermione sat up, too, pushing Ron's hands away. A furious blush appeared on her face.

"Hermione, tell me!"

There was a pregnant moment between them. Hermione observed Ron closely, chewing her lower lip as she considering her answer. Finally, she pushed her sleeve up and carefully started to unpick the plaster.

"Ginny and I had a bit of an ulterior motive for going into London today. You see, a new shop has opened up on Diagon Alley, and Ginny had an appointment. She's been waiting months for it. I hadn't been planning on getting anything done, but while I was waiting, one of the assistants persuaded me to do it. Said it was a new technique, and I was one of the first to have one."

The frown remained on Ron's face throughout Hermione's nervous babbling, his eyes fixed firmly on the plaster. She removed it completely, unveiling a tiny tattoo.

"Hermione," Ron gasped. "It's beautiful."

"I couldn't think of what to get at first, and then I looked out of the window and saw Quality Quidditch Supplies, and that's when it hit me. I needed something small that I could hide if I needed to, something that reminded me of you, of us — not that I'd forget about us, of course."

On the inside of Hermione's left wrist, where her watch would usually be, was the number two. It was done in the same font from their school Quidditch jersey and changed from red to gold to yellow, then orange before going back to red again.

"Wait, is that you—"

"My pulse point, yeah. Every time my heart hearts, the tattoo changes colour."

"That's my Quidditch number." Ron knew his mouth was hanging wide open, but he was wholly astonished that she would do something so intimate. His own heart was beating in time to the changing colours on her wrist.

"Yes, it is." Hermione smiled. "Seeing you overcome everything to get on the team? Well, I'd felt proud of you before, but that's when I knew it meant something different to how proud I was of Harry."

Ron gazed at his girlfriend. When did he become so lucky to land such a brilliant, wonderful woman? Every day he felt like he'd drunk a vat of Felix Felicis.

"You're bloody mental. You know that, right? You're stuck with that tattoo now."

"I know. But I'm stuck with you, so hopefully, even in seventy years, it will still mean something to me."

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Ron."

Hermione leaned in for another kiss, and Ron reciprocated eagerly. He wrapped one arm around her, letting the other drift to her wrist. His fingers grazed over the tattoo carefully, knowing it might still be sore. He felt her pulse beat under it, quickening as they continued to kiss.

Ron kissed her until he was desperate for breath. He pulled away just before his lungs threatened to explode. Satisfied, he flopped down onto the bed, letting her cuddle back up.

"What did Ginny have done?" he asked.

"Honestly? I don't think you want to know."