A/N: Thanks to the Anon who left me the prompt a few months ago... - DG

"I dunno how you got these seats, but they are bloody fantastic."

Hermione kept her nose in the book and didn't look out on the stadium. She muttered something under her breath but Ron couldn't hear a thing over the din of the noise from the eruption of the fans on the announcement of the teams.

"What was that? Seriously, how'd you manage to get us tickets to the match? It's been sold out for months. Getting us these seats must have set you back some galleons for you to do this for us." Ron waved his arm around at their box. "I've checked. These seats are in the VIP box, and they run about 100 galleons a seat."

Hermione's neck turned bright red before she wrapped the scarf tighter around it.

"What aren't you telling me, Hermione?"

"Wow, look at those moves!"

Ron turned and looked at Harry and Ginny watching like kids at their first Quidditch match. Ginny was due to leave for Holyhead on Monday for training camp while Harry had a rare Saturday off from work. Ron wasn't going to ask what happened outside his bedroom tonight and tomorrow. He might still get chuffed from time to time about Ginny's activities with Harry but the git was madly in love with his sister and he was rather good for her.

But it still didn't explain how Hermione got such posh seats to the England vs. Continental charity Quidditch match.

And for Seeker, Viktor Krum!

Buggering Fuck!

"You've got to be fucking kidding. Is that how you got us these seats? Viktor Bloody Krum?"

Hermione turned even more magenta under her scarf.

"So that's how you got us such seats." Ron turned and sat down hard on the bench. "You didn't beg Viktor for them, did you?"

"Yes, I did, for you and for Harry and Ginny." She turned and scowled at Ron. "I can't believe how ungrateful you're being." She turned her face back out towards the pitch. "You'd been talking about it for weeks and I wanted you to have something that you enjoyed since you're working so hard balancing training with helping George."

Ron's anger deflated. "You did this for me?"

"Yes, I did." Hermione scooted across the bench to sit closer to Ron. "You work so hard, helping George and at training. I wanted to do something nice for you. Kingsley mentioned at Sunday brunch a couple of weeks ago that you were making terrific strides in training and you were getting top marks on your tests." Hermione slid her hand into his and squeezed. "It's not like I can take you to bed to show you my appreciation. We already do that often, so I thought this might be a nice way of showing you how proud I am of you."

"But, it's Viktor." Ron scowled out at the little red dot high above the stadium. "Ruddy pumpkinhead," he muttered under his breath.

"Yes, it is. But he was also kind enough to get us these seats. We write some, mostly birthdays and Christmas. But he also knows that we're in a committed relationship and he's happy for me." She turned and looked at her boyfriend. "There's nothing to be jealous about. Face it, Ron, you got the girl and Viktor Krum didn't."

"You sure about that?" The pout was etched on his face.

Hermione leaned in close, just where Ron could hear her. "Who is the only person I consider letting me see me in my knickers?" Hermione blushed. "Whose name was I moaning when you were between my legs last night?" Hermione blushed even harder. "Who is the only person I consider doing that to me?"

"Me," his voice went very quiet, "and mine."

"Who was it who shagged me silly last night?"

Ron's ears turned red. "I did."

"Who satisfies me after a pathetic day at work? Who gets me to forget all the things running through my head and just feel for once, not thinking? Who gets me to laughing when you blow into my skin and make noises against my skin?" Hermione looked sideways at Ron. "Who can make me laugh with just a tickle?"

"Me," he whispered.

"Who did I wait for?"

"You made your point. You chose me."

"Exactly." Hermione squeezed his hand and moved back over a few inches. "So, please, enjoy the match. Once it's over, we'll go with Harry and Ginny and meet with the teams and down a pint or two of bitter and you can show off to Viktor who you are with."

"He doesn't know?"

Hermione smiled when Viktor flew by their box and waved at the occupants. "Of course he knows." Hermione leaned forward and waved to the dark haired witch further down the box. "Just like his wife knows about me."

"His wife?" Ron peered down the box and saw a well-dressed witch at the other end, watching the match intently. She had a long nose, much like Viktor had, but looked rather comfortable in her olive brown skin and coifed hair. "That's his wife?"

"It is. He sent me a picture of them earlier this year. They were married back in the spring at an estate outside of Sofia. They make a very good couple." Hermione smiled. "She's very good for him, and understanding of what he does as a profession."

Ron looked past Hermione again at the witch at the end. He saw the massive ring on her left hand but the slim silver band on her right hand. He felt a pang in his gut when he considered the price of rings he'd already looked at – and how little he had in his own Gringott's account.

Ron looked at the witch by his side and knew that she didn't value pricy baubles, like engagement rings or posh estates. She wanted him, and everything else was pudding, so she said.

"Anyway, enjoy the match, please." Hermione peered at him before returning to the book in her lap.

"Alright, I will." He squeezed her hand before standing up with the other two gits to cheer for England.

He stood at the railing and cheered, and quietly grateful he had such a wonderful witch by his side who understood him best of all.