Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, The Wedding Date, or any related characters.

A/N: Happy Tango Tuesday! Enough said :)

Thanks to accio-broom for beta-ing, as always!

The line marked with a * is a direct quote from the movie.

The Wedding Date

Chapter Five

Ron

He woke with a start, first noticing the sunlight streaming in from the open window. He blinked a few times, and groggily rubbed his eyes to make sense of where he was.

Hermione.

He smiled instantly, thinking back to the night they shared. A wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing, bloody fantastic night it was. The bed felt oddly cold as he realized that Hermione no longer occupied it. His hand patted the empty space beside him, where she once laid. He remembered how her body curled into his so perfectly. He could faintly hear the shower running, and figured she must be getting ready for the day.

Ron yawned and stretched his arms before glancing around the room to find his discarded boxer shorts at the foot of the bed. He stepped into them quickly and picked up the remaining clothes from the floor. He prepared to sneak downstairs and make Hermione some black coffee and a bloody mary (he wasn't sure what kind of hangover cure worked best for her). However, he aborted his plan when a stack of notes on the edge of the bed drew his attention. He counted the stack curiously. Five hundred pounds.

Fucking hell.

He burst into the unlocked bathroom and swished open the shower curtain, eliciting a loud squeal of surprise from Hermione, whose hands immediately went to cover her exposed breasts.

"Are you fucking joking with this?" Ron fumed, holding up the stack of notes in his hand.

Hermione hastily turned the water off and blindly reached for her towel to cover herself up, even though Ron considered that task to be pointless given how much he saw of her last night. She was rather unsuccessful with locating her towel as her squinting eyes were struggling to clear the water that had invaded them. Ron found her bathrobe hanging on the opposite wall and threw it at her, watching her cover up her body briskly.

"You could've at least had the decency to wait until I had finished my shower," she muttered irritably, tying the knot of her robe securely around her stomach.

He ignored her complaint and instead released the anger he wasn't able to hold in, "What the bloody hell did I do to make you think that I wanted money in exchange for what we did last night?"

"I-I just figured that we didn't really talk about, but I assumed that it was standard for what you do…"

"Standard? Was that what it was to you, Granger?" It was a low blow, sneering out her last name like Cormac so crudely did, but he had just taken his own gut punch to the stomach. "A standard service? A notch in your bedpost?"

Hermione's face grew red. "Now hang on just a minute. You can't just come in here insulting me when you are the one who supposedly advertises his services to please women."

Ron avoided her eyes, knowing he had to try to redirect the conversation. "That's beside the point."

"Is it?" She shot back.

Just seconds ago, he had convinced himself that the conversation was heading in a dangerous direction, and he needed to put a stop to it. Yet, he snarled back, "What does that mean?"

"Are you really an escort, Ron?" Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. She was staring at him, unphased, hands on her hips. She had figured him out. Of course, she had. She was way too smart and clever to not have noticed his squirly attitude and shifty eyes over the past few days when they broached the subject.

Ron knew the guilty look on his face gave away everything.

Hermione visibly swallowed roughly, and Ron could see the hurt etched across her face. "I'd like to get dressed now. Kindly get the hell out of my bathroom."

"Gladly," Ron spat out as he stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Ron showered and dressed in a separate room before showing his face in the family dining area for breakfast. He was surprised to find that Hermione was not there and that it was only her father, looking well-groomed, who resided at the table. He had a full breakfast of cereal, eggs, and toast in front of him, a cup of coffee, and was reading a newspaper. Mr. Granger looked up with his eyes above the spectacles that rested on the bridge of his nose.

"Why, good morning, Ron. I trust you slept well?"

Ron cleared his throat, hoping that the blush that crept upon his cheeks didn't reveal the fact that he thoroughly shagged the man's only daughter last night. Yeah, he would say he slept pretty good.

"Perfectly well, sir." Short, sweet, to the point. He hoped at least. He glanced around the room, still on edge while waiting for a certain brunette to arrive.

"Help yourself, my boy. There's quite the feast laid out this morning."

"Brilliant! Thank you."

Ron had just sat back down with his plate, piled high with eggs and bacon, when he heard the familiar sound of thumping feet.

Hermione came bounding down the stairs dressed in a powder blue flowy summer dress, and Ron couldn't help but admit to himself how gorgeous she looked. She had her hair pinned halfway up and loose curls held up out of her face by two gold barrettes.

"Good morning, Daddy," Hermione greeted her father brightly with a kiss on the cheek and sat down across the table from Ron. She pointedly ignored him as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

Mr. Granger was still engaged in his morning reading, yet Ron noticed him glancing suspiciously back and forth, obviously catching on to the tense air between them.

"Sweetheart, did you sleep well?" Mr. Granger inquired, echoing his earlier question to him.

"It was a mediocre night," she smoldered back with resentment, stabbing the hash browns on her plate with her fork more vigorously than what was usually considered appropriate table etiquette.

Ron quirked an eyebrow at her snide comment, but remained silent. He figured it would be best to let her simmer for a bit. He definitely didn't want an audience around whenever they hashed it all out either.

Hermione had only taken a few bites of her food before she stood promptly, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Come on. Now. We're due to meet Lavender and Seamus for dance lessons." With that, she turned on her heel and strolled out of the room without bothering to wait for a response.

Ron sighed, gazed dejectedly down at his half-eaten bacon, and politely excused himself from the table. Mr. Granger gave Ron a sympathetic look and murmured a quiet, "Good luck."

Hermione

Every inch of her body was fuming. The last thing she wanted to be doing right now was dancing with a certain, rather infuriating, ginger-haired man. She knew he was too good to be true. She honestly felt quite stupid, knowing that if it weren't for Lavender planting the seed of doubt in her mind yesterday about Ron's true line of work, she wouldn't have had the courage to confront him this morning. How did she manage to get herself in yet another downright humiliating mess?

She didn't speak to him at all on the drive over. She knew she was being slightly childish, snarling at him in front of her father during breakfast, sending him silent scowls over her glass of juice. But, he was still here. And she noticed that, so far, he had willingly followed along with every demand she had made since their tiff this morning. Perhaps she should hear him out and give him a chance to explain himself.

By the time she had concluded that she would talk to him, they had arrived at the ballroom dance studio. She would simply have to delay that conversation until after the class.

Lavender and Seamus waved at them happily as they entered the large, open space with wooden floors and mirrors lining all four walls. Hermione walked ahead of Ron to the center of the room, leaving him trailing behind her at a safe distance.

A dance instructor, a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, already stood near the engaged couple and grinned at Ron and Hermione as they came closer. "Welcome, everyone! Now, gather around."

Hermione observed that Lavender and Seamus were already holding hands, with the instructor by their side, forming one half of a circle. The woman motioned with her hands for Ron and Hermione to join them. Hermione bit her lip, staring down at the hand Ron had offered her, before taking it cautiously. When her eyes lifted, she caught Lavender's concerned face. Everything okay? Her friend mouthed. Hermione nodded her head briefly and smiled encouragingly before breaking the gaze.

"The wedding dance is simply a marvelous moment between you and your partner. It may very well be the most important dance moment of your life. I do hope that you will acquire skills today that you will carry with you throughout your lifetime, in order to discover a deeper connection to your partner."

Hermione wasn't sure if she imagined the gentle squeeze that Ron gave her hand. She didn't have long to dwell on the physical contact.

"Let's pair off, shall we?" The instructor clapped her hands together loudly. Ron and Hermione turned into each other, unsure at first of what to do. The experienced teacher came over and guided one of Ron's arms to the small of her back. His other arm remained outstretched, fingers intertwined with one of Hermione's hands, while her other hand perched on top of his shoulder.

The sound of Michael Buble's "Save the Last Dance for Me" played softly in the background.

You can dance

Every dance with the guy

Who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight

Their feet started to move timidly from side to side along to the rhythm of the music. To the left. To the right. To the left. To the right.

"We're going to try to glide across the floor. That's it, good!"

Ron took slightly bigger steps now, and Hermione was having a hard time keeping up with his larger strides as they circled clumsily around the room. There was a rather large amount of space between their bodies, and it was difficult for them to move in sync.

"Now, don't be shy. Move a bit closer to each other." The woman gently pushed inward on both of their shoulders, causing their chests to brush together from the proximity. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation of being so close to him.

You can smile

Every smile for the man

Who held your hand 'neath the pale moonlight

Ron's gaze remained downward, and Hermione could tell that he was trying hard not to step on her feet. She gathered rather quickly that he was an inexperienced dancer, much like herself. It wasn't a combination that was proving to be beneficial for either of them.

She blew out a frustrated breath, watching how Lavender and Seamus moved together with ease across the dance floor. What did they even need dance lessons for, anyway? She thought bitterly.

But don't forget who's takin' you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

So darlin' save the last dance for me

After another few seconds of Ron's fumbling feet, Hermione could feel herself growing snippy. "What's the matter, Ron? Not a natural dancer, are you?"

Ron simply responded by flexing his heel out, causing Hermione to trip over his extended foot. Just before she slipped to the ground, he caught her in his arms and swiftly placed her back upright.

A blazed look crossed Hermione's face, hit with a jolt of rage. She couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Before she could stop herself, she lifted her foot slightly off the ground and proceeded to slam it back down hard on his toe.

Ron hissed and pulled a pained expression. He retaliated by twirling her away from his body and spinning her back around until her back landed with an "oomph" against his solid chest. His piercing blue eyes met hers fiercely. "You were saying?"

Hot damn. It was incredibly difficult to remain angry with someone who simultaneously turned her on.

Oh I know

That the music's fine

Like sparklin' wine, go and have your fun

Their movements had picked up speed, eyes locked on each other in a heated battle. Their joined hands shot out straight to the side in the direction they were gliding, arms now outstretched like a traditional tango.

It was not lost on Hermione that the tango was a rather sensual dance. It wasn't anything like what they were asked to do. Yet, their movements were much more synchronized now than they were before. To echo her mother's statement from the picnic, their relationship, whatever this was, certainly didn't lack passion.

Laugh and sing

But while we're apart

Don't give your heart to anyone

"Erm...you guys...that's not really what we're looking to perform…" Hermione could vaguely hear Lavender calling over to them. She managed to tune everyone else out, instead completely losing herself in Ron's eyes and the music.

And don't forget who's takin' you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

So darlin' save the last dance for me

Soon, their tango morphed into something else entirely. They were twirling and twirling and twirling. Hermione felt rather breathless, like she was floating on air, as Ron whirled her around the room. His eyes had softened immensely since they had started dancing, almost like the longer they moved together, the more relaxed he became. His lips began to curl upwards as her spirits brightened.

Baby don't you know I love you so

Can't you feel it when we touch

I will never never let you go

I love you oh so much

Happiness glowed inside of her as they continued to glide around the room. She felt like her feet were barely touching the ground now.

The instructor continued to call out to them to garner their attention, but the song wasn't over yet, and neither were willing to stop dancing.

'Cause don't forget who's taking you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

Save the last dance for me

Ron twirled her one final time as the song came to a close and dipped her low backwards. Their noses brushed together, both breathing heavily.

"Well, that was...something," The dance instructor laughed shortly, obviously not sure of what else to say in reaction to the show they just put on. Lavender and Seamus stood in the middle of the room, dumbfounded.

Yet again, Hermione was amazed at how quickly Ron managed to break through her walls. Darn you, Ronald Weasley.

After they were released from dance class, Ron and Hermione found themselves sitting on the porch of her parents' home, both basking in the glow of the sun. She didn't want to go inside without having cleared the air, and she knew by the way Ron was bouncing his elbows on his bended knees that he was just waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

"Why'd you say yes to coming with me?"

Ron appeared startled by the first question she threw at him, and it took him a moment to process and think of how to respond. "I dunno...I guess there was something when I saw you at the club…"

"Ah, I see. You thought I was desperate." She couldn't have felt more mortified.

"No," Ron responded adamantly, taking her hand. "You looked...hopeful." An unexpected sense of gratitude welled up inside of her. He was someone who didn't take pity on her, but understood her in a way that she believed others close to her had failed to do in the past.

"You know what is hitting me the hardest about all of this?" Ron didn't respond, just simply allowed her time to continue. "Now that I know you're not an escort, I just realized I haven't a clue what you actually do for work. I mean, do I really know anything about you?"

"I reckon your friends and family knew the truth about me a bit more than you did."

Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until she pieced it all together. "You mean the lie," she used finger quotes here, "we told...about you being a pub owner? That was all true?"

"Yes. I own a small pub in Ottery. I do have a dog, Chudley, and I do have a big family. The club we met at, The W, is owned by my twin brothers. I was working as a barman that night to make a little extra income." He saw the recognition dawn on her face. "When I met you, and the opportunity arose...I'm sorry."

She opened and closed her mouth several times before she settled on a question. "Can I ask why you needed the extra money?"

"For Chudley. He needs a procedure on his leg that's costly. I'm not usually a prideful man, I know when to ask for help." Ron's voice cracked, and Hermione could tell that he was fighting back showing her his emotions, "I really am sorry, Hermione, I never meant to manipulate you or deceive you. I really convinced myself that I was just helping you out, helping myself out, but now I'm onto the fact that there was another reason too as to why I accepted your invitation."

"And that reason was?"

"I wanted to spend more time with you." Her heart almost broke with joy. He was gazing at her wistfully, clearly hopeful that she felt the same way and that the past few days had meant more to her than just a business proposition.

Hermione shyly blushed and covered their joined hands with her free one.

"I'll give all of it back. Everything you paid me to come here with you-"

"No, don't," she shook her head, "I mean - I know we have a lot to discuss. And things are...complicated, but I want you to have it."

Ron's eyes bored into hers. "I can't accept it."

"Yes, you can. Don't think of it as payment for any kind of service. Think of it as a loan of sorts. From someone who cares about you...and really wants to meet your special pup."

Ron grinned magnificently. "He's the best. And he's going to love you."

The little flutter in her chest increased. "I'm counting on it."

"And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'll pay you back. Promise." She could tell by the intensity of his gaze that he meant it, and the matter wasn't up for discussion.

"I can think of other ways that aren't related at all to pounds." The seductive thought flew out of her mouth uncontrollably, but to her relief, his eyes sparkled as he grinned widely.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm."

"You know, if I really were an escort, I know I would've missed you after our weekend away." Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest at Ron's confession. "I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met*."

Their lips found each other softly and sweetly, filled with a hope that Hermione had never experienced before. A promise of what's to come.