Disclaimer: I could lie, and tell you that I own Harry Potter, but then I'd get sued, and have to deal with lawyers and court cases, so in order to avoid that entire mess: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Neither do I own the rights to "Perfect". Those belong to Ed Sheeran.
"Come and dance," he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up: they vanished together into the growing thong on the dance floor.
(Chapter Eight of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, "The Wedding", page 123 of the British edition.)
She was gorgeous.
Wearing that lilac dress, with her hair in a beautiful, neat bun, and high heeled sandals, she looked stunning.
And he was dancing with her.
Ron wasn't a very good dancer, but Mum had made them all learn some basic moves before so they wouldn't make complete fools of themselves. So he was hanging on OK.
Hermione was dancing perfectly, of course. Ron wondered if there was anything she wasn't perfect at, not counting chess. He doubted it. And he loved her for it.
He loved her.
It hit him so suddenly, he stopped dancing.
He wondered when it had happened. When he had stopped thinking she was an annoying know-it-all, when he had stopped seeing her as a friend, when he had stopped fancying her, and had fallen in love.
Hermione, the reason he was Ron. The person that made him who he was. This strong, stubborn, brilliant woman who was his entire world.
He didn't deserve someone like her.
"Ron?"
He looked around. Hermione was looking at him worriedly. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he said. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" she asked.
"Yeah." Now he felt stupid. He cast around for an excuse, any excuse, no matter how stupid, to cover up his mistake. "It's just… My shoes are pinching my feet."
That wasn't a lie, actually. Mum had taken him to Diagon Alley and forced this pair on him, ignoring his protests that he hated them and telling him that he would wear them if she had to Stun him and then attach them to him with a Permanent Sticking Charm. He had conceded, in the end.
"Oh, good," Hermione said. Ron raised his eyebrows. Hermione blushed.
"It's not good that your feet are hurting," she said hurriedly, "It's just that my shoes are uncomfortable too, and I thought that if you were taking them off I could too." She looked extremely embarrassed.
Ron laughed and pulled her to the side so they could take their shoes off. As soon they walked back onto the floor, he took her hand and began to dance again.
And for that moment, he forgot everything. He forgot about You-Know-Who, and Horcruxes, and the war, and the impending doom hanging over their heads. It was just him and Hermione, laughing and twirling and dancing, like they were kids again, like the fate of the world wasn't placed upon their shoulders. They were just them.
And it was perfect.
We are still kids, but we're so in love
Fighting against all odds
I know we'll be alright this time
Darling, just hold my hand
Be my girl, I'll be your man
I see my future in your eyes
Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song
When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful
I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight
A/N: It's ridiculously short and not up to my usual standards. I know. Songfics aren't my strong suit. But literally every word in this song screams "Romione", and I could never forgive myself if I hadn't tried. So please, review, and if you have any suggestions to make this little fic any better, I would love to hear them!
Love from Phoenixes :D