Ron was fighting a losing battle in a war that he never could seem to win. Despite the assurances he had taken the night before to close all of the curtains, a single ray of sunlight had managed to pry its way through a tiny crack in the fabric. Of course, this finger of light was dancing right on his tightly shut eyes. Colored lights danced in his field of vision as he resisted the growing sense of wakefulness spreading through his body.

Groaning softly, he found himself longing for the days when he had been able to sleep gleefully until well past noon. Auror training had forcibly broken him of that—though it was a joke in the department that he had been the most difficult recruit to rouse from bed during the initial training camps. Now his body frequently woke on its own at an hour he would have once considered highly unnatural, and he was rarely able to indulge himself with a lie in. Ron not only had that luxury today, but he had the perfect person with who to waste away a day in bed. The sun, however, seemed to have other ideas.

The bed squeaked as Ron shifted to get the sunlight out of his face, slowly opening his eyes. His arm tightened around Hermione's sleeping form, and he had to resist the urge to lay soft kisses all along her shoulders and neck. He knew they had passed some sort of test last night, and he desperately wanted to show her how happy he was at the fact. However, he knew it was rare indeed that Hermione would allow herself to sleep without an alarm to bring her into another completely full day. While he loved the idea of waking her with tender caresses and whispered words of love, he knew she desperately needed this rest. He, however, was wide-awake and there was nothing for it.

As his stomach growled loud enough to illicit a murmured protest from Hermione, an idea struck Ron and he gently eased himself out of bed. Breakfast was sounding like an excellent idea, and if he brought some up to Hermione she just might be more likely to listen to his newly formulated plot of a lazy day in bed for the two of them. Merlin, but he loved Saturdays!

He was not very surprised to hear the whistle of the kettle as he made his way into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Seeing Harry bustling about the kitchen did come as a bit of a shock, as he had no memory of ever seeing his best friend cook breakfast for as long as they had known each other.

Harry was able to get up, have a quick cup of tea and a granola bar, and head off to work. Now he was cooking what seemed to be an incredibly full breakfast, complete with Ron's least favorite food ever, fried toast. Knowing that his best friend also had little liking for that particular part of a 'traditional' English breakfast, Ron quickly came to the realization that Ginny must have stayed over last night. It seemed that Harry was using the same plan as himself to get some time alone with the woman he loved. Ron chuckled as he made his way to the kettle and mooched some of the hot water to make tea in his favorite mug.

"You know," he started while summoning the sugar, "if I were like the rest of my brothers, I'd be preparing to thrash you for the fact that Ginny stayed here last night."

"Yeah," replied Harry, "and if you were any other member of the Weasley clan, I'd have kicked you and your fiancé out last night instead of just casting a silencing charm on your room." Ron had to fight to swallow his mouthful of tea rather than choking on it in the fit of laughter that seized him. Seeing Harry's smirk only made matters worse, and he decided to set his mug down before he made a huge mess all over the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, mate. Hermione's idea, I swear. She and I, well, we both came to our senses and apologized last night and one thing led to another—" Harry cut him off with a raised hand.

"Please, stop that sentence right now. I don't want to hear about that anymore than you want to hear about what Ginny had set up when I got home last night."

Ron felt himself turn a slight shade of green and decided it was time for the conversation to change topics. "Trying to get her to spend the day with you rather than wedding plans?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I thought we could all use a break from all of the planning. That's why I made so much." He gestured behind him and Ron saw that there was indeed enough breakfast cooked for all four of them—set out on two intricate silver platters that Harry must have pulled from the ancient china cabinet.

"Thanks a million, mate. I was only going to cook up some eggs and toast so I'd be sure to catch 'Mione before she woke up. Never knew you for one to be bothered with breakfast, Harry." Ron resumed sipping his tea idly as he watched Harry put a sausage on each plate.

"Yeah, I don't really do it often anymore. It was always my job at the Dursleys. I guess I got kind of sick of watching Dudley swallow his tomatoes whole while Uncle Vernon talked with a mouthful of beans and sausage." Harry exaggerated a shudder for Ron's benefit, and the two shared a quick smile. "Figured we could all use a good breakfast, and all the better for us if it means we can keep the girls distracted for most of the day. You know they have Gin's Hen Party tonight and I don't know about you, but I'd actually like to spend some time with my fiancé before Fleur takes them out to whatever it is she has planned. She's more secretive than you, I swear."

Ron shook his head and said, "You'll not hear a word of complaint out of me about Fleur taking over the Hen Night. If 'Mione had one more thing to plan I'm pretty sure her head would have exploded by now."

At this, Harry shot Ron a look that clearly conveyed that Harry believed it was Ron who would have had the problem with Hermione adding to her workload. Ron suddenly found renewed interest in his tea, though he had the grace to shrug slightly. Harry took it for the admission that it was, and began to put the finishing touches on the two breakfast trays. With a flick of his wand, the dark-haired wizard cast a warming charm over the piles of food and levitated one of the silver platters onto Ron's waiting hands.

"Just don't 'forget' the silencing charm again. I had to talk Ginny out of starting a contest last night."

Balancing both his mug of tea and the heavily laden tray with ease, Ron responded. "Thank Merlin you did, Harry. I think I'd have been scarred for life."

"Yeah well," chuckled Harry, "considering Hermione is practically my sister, I think I'm the one that has the most right to talk about scars. Of course I suppose last night could be considered pay back for that night you had to listen to me and Gin . . ." Harry laughed at the expression of pure horror that crossed Ron's face. "All right, all right I'll stop! But on a serious note, I'm glad that you and Hermione seemed to have worked through whatever was wrong."

Ron's face morphed into his typical lopsided grin, a cheeky glint in his eye. "Yeah, me too. Speaking of which, I'm going to go ensure that I remain in her good graces." It was Harry's turn to shudder as Ron very deliberately waggled his eyebrows. The dark-haired wizard made exaggerated gagging noises at his friend's back before gathering up his own tray and heading to the room he shared with Ginny.

Hermione awoke to the smell of sausage and the sound of Ron's whistling. The sound was one that was incredibly familiar, but that did not stop the wide smile that spread across her features upon hearing it. She stretched languidly, taking time to feel the sleepiness ease out of her body before opening her eyes. In a husky voice slightly thick with sleep, she joined in on the final chorus.

"That's why Gryffindor's all sing Weasley is our King."

As Ron leaned over to kiss her cheek, Hermione caught sight of the laden tray and felt her eyes widen. She squeaked in surprise when her stomach growled audibly. To her amusement, she found herself flushing as Ron laughed merrily.

"See, that's how you can tell I'm an excellent ruler. I anticipate the needs of my subjects before they do," Ron gently set the tray down on the bed and sat down opposite of her. "Courtesy of our host, who apparently cast a silencing spell on our room last night." Hermione watched the cheeky grin spread across Ron's face and could not help but smile along with him. She nodded her thanks as Ron levitated her favorite mug to her, and found he had prepared it just as she always drank it—two spoons of sugar and a splash of milk.

"Harry wasn't too terribly disturbed, was he?" She felt her concerns dissipate as Ron chuckled again while putting marmalade on a piece of toast before handing it to her.

"No, he was actually rather keen to not talk about it. Seems to think it was fair payback for that night I got stuck listening to him and Ginny. Wish I'd thought to cast the charm on their room. Instead I spent the entire evening with a pillow over my head trying to picture anything else . . And just what is so funny?" Hermione hadn't been able to restrain the bubbling laughter that came to her at the image of Ron lying in bed wishing he were anywhere else. She took a bite of toast to give her time to think before continuing.

"Ginny may have mentioned that particular incident when we were talking yesterday. I found it quite horrifying yesterday, but something about the way you tell it makes me laugh."

"Flatterer, I'm rubbish at telling stories," Ron grumbled as he crunched into a bit of bacon. Hermione could hardly believe he still had so little faith in his abilities.

"Oh, but Ron that's not true! You're a brilliant story teller—it was one of my favorite things about your letters. You made me feel as if I were there with you."

A tender smile crossed Ron's face, "I just didn't want you to think you'd been forgotten."

"How could I when you made sure to keep me a part of everything? Do you remember the letter you sent about running into Draco at Gringotts?"

"You mean the ferret?"

Hermione's nose crinkled in laughter, "Yes, Ron, the ferret. Well, the day after I received that letter I went into the office still laughing to myself about the way you described the incident. When I got to work, it just so happened that a member of the delegation was considering purchasing a pet for their child and was considering a ferret, and they asked me my opinion. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks so hard to keep from laughing as I suggested a nice cat instead as an option for the young girl."

"You know, love, you're not such a bad story teller yourself. Though I don't think I would describe any cat as nice. . ." Ron easily dodged the playful swat she aimed at him.

"Oh hush you, leave 'Shanks alone! He came around to liking you in the end, you know. Now tell me, how was the Stag Night?" Hermione sat back on the bed with a contented sigh as Ron launched into a detailed recounting of the previous evening. The pick-up Quidditch game was one of her favorite bits, as Ron's obvious enthusiasm for the topic shone through. She was shocked to hear the list of gifts that the boys had decided to present Harry with, especially the bit about Neville.

"I don't know why, but there's something moderately disturbing at how honest he was with that."

"You're not the only one who thought so, 'Mione. Truth be told, I was more bothered by Harry's face when he opened Ginny's present. I think there was something else in that box, his face was way to red for just a pair of boxers, even if they did have Pygmy Puffs on them," Hermione carefully kept her face blank as Ron searched her features for a clue. She knew exactly what was in that box, Ginny having roped her in to taking the picture. That particular item went on the list of things Ron never needed to know she had been a part of. After a few moments of silence, Ron continued with his story.

"But see the best part of the entire thing came later on. After all the planning and everything, I got to come home and make things right with the person who'd been on my mind throughout all the festivities." He leaned over and kissed a bit of marmalade from the corner of her lips, "I'm so glad you were here and that I got the chance to apologize for being a prat."

"Well," she began in a mock serious voice, "you were a prat, but you're my prat so I suppose that makes things a bit better. Besides, I have to say I'd been a bit of a stubborn know it all," she arched an eyebrow as Ron tried to disguise a snort of laughter with a cough, watching as a panicked look spread across his features. Instead of ranting at him as she was sure he was expecting, she joined in with laughter of her own. "We always do things the hard-headed way, but I'm glad we're back to being us."

"I whole heartedly agree to that sentiment indeed! So you have to tell me, how's my master plan working?"

"Plan, Ronald what on earth are you talking about?"

"Well you see, I figured out the best way to cement last night's apologies. We have to stay in bed all day, no being productive whatsoever. So I thought breakfast in bed. . ."

"Breakfast in bed that your best friend cooked!"

"Oi, that's not my fault. Harry and I have always had shared moments of brilliance, and the man would like a little time with his fiancé too. So what do you say, love, can we have a lazy Saturday?"

Hermione bit her lower lip in thought, "I don't know, Ron. I've got Ginny's Hen Night tonight and I wanted to get some work done this afternoon—did I tell you Mr. Aldridge made me leave work early yesterday?"

Ron shook his head as he continued eating his sausage while making a questioning noise. Hermione was reminded of all their years at Hogwarts when she'd thought his habit of communicating while eating disturbing, but that was before she'd ever considered how fast his metabolism seemed to be. Used to this kind of non-verbal communication at this point, she continued with her story.

"I was having a very hard time focusing on anything, so he sent me home and told me to take care of whatever was bothering me."

"Well clearly that's what we're doing now—rebuilding bridges and making things stronger--and don't you dare expect me to believe you aren't at least three weeks ahead of your work schedule. Come on, 'Mione, what have you got to lose?" He turned his big blue eyes on her, and she found she couldn't resist the joyous idea of lazing about with him all day.

"Oh all right, I don't much want to think about 'Fleur's fete' at any rate," at the thought of the evening's plans, Hermione felt her mood darken slightly and she idly pushed the beans around on her plate. She felt Ron scoot up beside her on the bed and then levitate the food onto a night stand, leaving her hands with nothing to fidget.

"Right, are you going to tell me what's got you so upset about this Hen Night or do I have to drag it out of you?" She began to protest, but realized the futility in that when Ron sent her a look that she was sure he'd learned from his mother.

"Well, Fleur's got it planned for us to go to a Muggle club in London after we all meet at Shell Cottage. When Gin mentioned wanting to do something 'unnoticeable', I thought we'd just have a girls' night in, not go out dancing for Merlin's sake."

"Why on earth are you worried about going dancing? As I recall you were quite good at it back at Hogwarts."

Hermione loved the look of befuddlement that crossed Ron's features. Blushing, she continued, "Because Ron, that's not at all how people dance at Muggle clubs. It's very different and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with doing it."

"Well," Ron wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Once he securely had her there he began punctuating his sentences with light kisses all over her face. "So go but don't dance that much. Have fun with the girls, laugh a lot and try to relax a bit. No one's going to expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

It was typical of Ron to make her worries seem trivial and to point out the path that let her be the most like herself. In that moment, she was swept up with love for him. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and pulled him into a heated kiss. When the two finally broke for air she rested her forehead against his. "I am beginning to like the idea of spending all day in bed, in fact I think it's the best idea you've had in a long time." To show her appreciation she pressed her body close to his and began to nibble on his ear, eliciting a moan of appreciation from Ron.

Later Ron would comment that it had almost been a shame to let such a magnificent breakfast be forgotten, and Hermione would smile into his chest.

As the afternoon drew to evening, Hermione and Ginny went back to Ginny's flat to prepare for the Hen Night. Though she wasn't quite sure how it had happened, Hermione had promised her best friend that she would wear whatever outfit Ginny picked, and even sit still long enough for her hair and makeup to be done. Now sitting on Ginny's bed, debating between three outfits her friend had laid out, Hermione was beginning to regret whatever bout of insanity had caused her to agree to this.

She took another look at the tiny skirt coupled with a pair of skin tight leggings and called out to the open door of the bathroom, "Ginny, are you absolutely certain this is what Muggles wear?"

"What, the skirt bit? Yeah apparently that's quite popular though I can't understand why," the fiery young woman came out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe and a towel over her red-hair. "Looks like something Lavender would wear, doesn't it?"

"Ginny! That's not nice!"

"Oh come off it Hermione, we both know you don't have an overwhelming fondness for the girl. Besides, she always did dress a bit . . . provocatively. Remember when she decided that the whole world needed to see her cleavage when you were in fifth year?"

Hermione laughed at the memory, "How could I forget? I had to watch her perform certain enhancing charms before she would head out into the Common Room. I swear, the sorting hat couldn't have put two girls more different from me into Gryffindor that year!"

"Yes it could have; imagine if Pansy had been a Gryffindor!" Both girls wrinkled their noses at the thought and then burst into more laughter. It took several minutes for them to calm down from Ginny's suggestion of the twins testing products on the uptight witch in between classes before they could get back to the task at hand. Eventually, Hermione selected a pair of dark flared jeans and a halter top that was made of a diaphanous blue fabric and had some lacework under the bust-line. By Hermione's standards, it was incredibly risqué while still being classy, and it got the Ginny 'Seal of Approval.'

In the span of a few moments Hermione found herself sitting very still in a chair and trying not to scrunch up her eyes as Ginny carefully applied eye shadow. Hermione only put on a light amount of make up for work, and she generally used magic to do so. Ginny, however, insisted that this wasn't the best way to achieve the dramatic effect desired for their evening out, and since it was her Hen Party, Hermione went along with it. She decided it was better to talk and attempt to distract herself than sit in fidgety silence.

"By the way, I think your photograph got the reaction you were hoping for. Apparently Harry hid it from all of the boys, but I'm guessing he was rather pleased?"

Ginny paused a moment to laugh before continuing with her project, "Oh, I'd say so. Kept telling me how 'ruddy unfair' it was all night long. But I will tell you this--he was wearing the boxers when we left. Speaking of last night, how's my daft brother?"

"Oh Ginny," Hermione laughed, "he wasn't the one being daft, I was. And as far as last night goes, it actually went over relatively well. We both realized we were being foolish the past few weeks, and he helped me come to terms with the fact that everything isn't going to be perfect all of the time. So yes, we're all made up now."

Ginny snorted in what she was sure Mum-Weasley would have called a very unladylike fashion. "Made up indeed, as if I didn't know. It was my Harry that had to cast the charm for you two lovebirds last night. Now tell me, did Ron really forget or was that all you?"

Hermione opened her eyes and, though she was blushing enough to rival a Weasley, gave Ginny a wink, which caused the two to dissolve into further gales of laughter. It took several minutes for the two of them to calm down enough for Ginny to put Hermione's hair up in a loose twist, tendrils of chestnut curls hanging down around her neck. Ginny pulled her friend over to the mirror, and Hermione was shocked to see the sexy young woman in the reflection. Ginny had done something with the eye makeup that made her look ethereal, and her hair looked perfect. She ran her hands over the folds of the shirt down to her hips, and then sent Ginny a few stuttered words of thanks.

Ginny made Hermione turn all around so that she could get a view of her handiwork. The red-head stood before the brunette, her hand on her right hip and beamed.

"You know, for a workaholic you clean up well. Come on," Ginny muttered as she waved a quick drying charm over her hair, "help me pick out what I'm wearing before Fleur decides that we're late."

Hermione was about to respond when they heard a ringing voice echoing from the flat's fireplace. "Ginny? 'Ermione? Where are you, eet is almost time for ze fun to begin!"

The two young women looked at each other and burst into yet another round of giggles. Hermione could only hope that the actual party would be half as much fun as the getting ready.