A/N:

Hello, I'm actually back to posting!

I thought i may as well go back to posting, since nothing has been motivating me lately.

I've never really written a Romione fic before so please, let me know what you think.

Hope everyone is well :]

QL round 12

BEATER 1: Anything you write or draw on yourself appears on your soulmate.

4. (setting) coffee shop

6. (character) Ron Weasley

10. (object) pen/quill

Hogwarts:

Gryffindor

Day 1, Auction 1: [family] Weasleys

Assignment 3. Muggle art: pinching the paint. Task #1: Poppy Flowers (Vincent Van Gogh) - include a romantic, dramatic scene in your fic.

Writing club: august. This or that. Marriage (12: character - Ron Weasley)

Artist appreciation. No judgement (Prompt - Write about a relationship (platonic or romantic) between people who've been close for years.)

Resolution evolution. Writing resolutions (7. Write a fic with a prompt you like but have never written before.)

Seasonal challenges thread (summer)

Indoor plant week. Blushing Bromeliad: (emotion) flustered

Creative ice-cream day. 15. Neapolitan: Hermione Granger, and 32. marshmallow: Ron Weasley

Gryffindor characters. 31. Ron Weasley

Let's put on a show. Director - 1. Genre: romance

August (fortnightlies). The rarest paired souls - 16. Anything you draw on your skin will show up on your soulmate's.

WC: 1703 excluding a/n

Ron slumped against the polished wooden table with a grunt. It had been a long morning at work, and he still had so much to do, including finishing the pesky case of the missing child. He felt overworked and overtired, and coffee would be his only saviour from the amount of parchment he still had to sift through. After all, it was only noon.

The sweet aroma of the coffee shop washed over him and the warmth of the café wrapped around him like a fluffy blanket, tempting him to close his eyes and take a short nap.

He knew taking a nap would be risky, but his eyelids felt heavy and his brain was ready to burst.

He exhaled slowly, his breath fogging up the window beside him. The sun streaming in only added to the tiredness he felt and he was sure if he wasn't already fired up on caffeine, he'd be passed out by now.

Taking his quill from his pocket, he began to draw stick figures in the wisps of fog with the tip of the feather.

"Your coffee, sir," a smiley waitress named Mary said, pulling him from his thoughts.

By now, he knew every waitress by their name, and they knew what his favourite coffee was, vanilla.

Ron turned away from the window and took the mug gratefully in his free hand.

"Busy?" Mary asked with a cheery smile.

"Very much so," Ron replied as he took a sip from his mug.

The smell of the vanilla coffee hit him hard, shocking his brain into alert mode. Noticing the familiar cartoon dragons on the mug, Ron dipped his quill into the self-filling inkwell in the middle of the table, and absentmindedly began drawing the images on his arm.

"New mugs, Mary?" Ron asked as Mary turned away from the table.

"Yeah, we heard you liked dragons, and I saw the scrapbook you had the other day, with the dragons on the front." Mary admitted as she headed back towards the main counter.

Looking down at his arm, he saw that his drawings were messy, he still thought he could see the outlines of the dragons amongst the scribbles, though.

Gulping down the coffee, Ron flipped open his folder of parchment, and after dipping his quill back into the ink, set to work marking pages, after being satisfied with his dragon drawings.

He didn't know why he had been given this assignment, when he was clearly more suited to the practical side of the field, rather than the paperwork.

The slight jingle of bells announced someone's arrival, tearing Ron's attention away from the parchment as he raised his head to look at the newcomer.

The chilly wind slapped him hard in the face, making his breath catch in his throat, and his stomach did an odd sort of flip flop.

Standing a couple feet away was one of his best friends, the head of the Ministry, Hermione Granger—and unbeknownst to her, the one he fancied, a lot.

A deep frown was etched on her features as she took notice of Ron sitting in one of the booths and, after ordering herself a coffee, she hurried over to where Ron sat.

"Where have you been, Ronald?" Hermione scolded as she sat down, the worried frown slightly easing from her features.

Ron slumped back into his seat, trying to fight the sheepish smile off of his face. He didn't like when she was disappointed in him, however, the fact that she had noticed his absence, filled him with a giddy feeling. "Blimey, Hermione, can't I get out of the office for just a couple minutes?" Ron huffed under his breath.

He took the quill once more and scribbled down more notes in his messy handwriting trying to keep his eyes from roaming her outline in front of him.

"It would help if you told someone where you're going before you just up and leave." Hermione snapped, slamming a palm against the table.

Ron stared at her hand, noticing sketches all over her skin.

He reached out and absentmindedly traced one of the images, noticing it's similarity to the ones on his own hand.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, her voice much softer than it had been a couple of moments ago.

"Yes?" Ron replied, returning his gaze to her face.

Hermione's bushy brown hair was threatening to spring into her face, and a loose strand hung in front of her eyes.

"I wanted to ask you something," Hermione stated.

Ron reached over, picked up the stray lock of hair, and set it behind her ear before he knew what he had done.

His ears went red and he quickly turned away hiding the flush that was quickly crawling up his neck. He focused his gaze on the frosted window, and missed the blush that reddened Hermione's cheeks from the gesture.

The smiley face he drew earlier stared back at him with blank eyes.

"What in the name of Merlin have you done to your wrists?" Hermione demanded, reaching over the table to grasp Ron's wrist. As her sleeve fell back, they both stared.

"Oh, I have them too." Hermione squeaked, raising their wrists.

"Huh." Was Ron's only response as he stared, his mouth agape. He tried not to act like her touch was suddenly sending shivers up his arm.

"What have you done to me?" Hermione yelped, letting go of his wrist abruptly.

"I, uh, nothing. It must be the quill, see," Ron said as he drew a misshapen heart on his palm.

Sure enough, a minute or so later, an exact replica appeared on Hermione's palm.

"Give me that, I'll get someone to take a look at it," Hermione replied as she snatched the quill from Ron's hand.

"So, then, what was it that you wanted to ask me?" Ron inquired, remembering their previous conversation.

"Forget it." Hermione mumbled as she put the quill away in a robe pocket.

She stood up from the table, and was about to walk away when Ron grasped her elbow.

"Hermione, look at me, blimey, what's wrong?" Ron asked, concern filling his voice.

"Would you… would you like to come over for tea? Just, you know, you and I?" Hermione asked, her voice growing quieter with each word, barely a whisper by the end of her question.

Ron stared blankly at her for a couple of minutes before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Of course I would, Hermione, why wouldn't I?" Ron said through his laughter.

"I thought maybe you'd want Harry to come along," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Have you seen him? He's too head over heels for my sister, I doubt he'd even have noticed that I left the office today." Ron scoffed.

Hermione's face relaxed, and Ron stood up beside her.

"You know, I quite like how my rubbish drawings that run up your arms look on you," Ron chuckled.

He led them both back to the counter, slapped down some Muggle money, took another coffee and then headed towards the closed door.

As he wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, the bell jingled as they walked into the great outdoors.

Since Hermione was interested in getting the quill investigated, they decided to meet the next week at her apartment, and that was where he was now.

He had managed to talk to the coffee shop owner earlier that day, and had bought one of the dragon designed mugs, which he would compare to the scrappy drawings that covered his arms and wrists.

He hadn't wanted Hermione to figure out what had happened, so after that day, he had stopped inking his own skin.

He stood at the door with two takeaway coffees in one hand, and a plastic bag containing ingredients for their dinner.

He waited nervously at the front door, hoping Hermione would get to it sooner rather than later.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked from somewhere within the house.

"It's me," Ron answered .

A couple of seconds later, the door opened to reveal his favourite bushy brown haired girl who invited him inside.

His heart jumped into his mouth as he stepped through the door into her neat apartment.

"Come on then, dinner won't cook itself." Hermione clucked impatiently.

Ron groaned and emptied the contents of the shopping onto the counter top.

Hermione scuttled around the kitchen, and began to cook their meal.

"So, did you find out what all this is?" Ron asked, pulling up his sleeve and pointing to the drawings. He noticed the look of frustration on Hermione's face and couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, they couldn't find anything. Nothing unusual other than our fingerprints and plain ink." Hermione huffed.

Ron sucked in a breath, his hands shook at his sides, his palms beginning to sweat.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"I… It's..." Ron tried, unable to find the words.

Hermione leant across the countertop, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Ron's face flushed red as Hermione leant back, and a small giggle left her mouth.

Ron cleared his voice and tried again.

"Well, since I drew them on my skin, and they have appeared on yours, I believe that's a sign that we're meant to be," Ron said, smiling goofily.

Hermione stared wide-eyed, realising that Ron was probably correct.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione asked.

"Probably because you didn't grow up with Wixon child stories." Ron laughed.

"Oh." She said blankly.

Ron chuckled before pulling out the mug he had purchased earlier that day.

"Do you recognise this?" He asked as he handed her the mug.

Hermione's eyes grew large, she did indeed recognise the mug, it was the one she had noticed on the coffee shop's table Ron had been sitting at the week before.

"They all match, don't they?" Hermione said.

Ron nodded before standing up and coming around the bench.

"Why don't we have our meal now?" He smiled, guiding her over to the table and pulling a chair out.

Hermione sat down at the table, a baffled expression on her face while Ron served their food.

It was a great meal, and Ron was lucky enough to share it with the one he loved most.