A/N: This was first published from a prompt in my box for Months on Tumblr, but it was also most appropriate as an outtake for the Epilogue to Vows - which is now up so I can't spoil myself too much. There will be another posted alongside this one, for the fans in rated T, for grotty language only.
Aside from this, there are still 3 outtakes I wish to write, of which I've not started yet. - DG
Lunch was the closest to stolen hours like in her last year in quite some time. But then they were both busier than 1999 was. They walked side by side in from Diagon Alley into the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had to be back at her desk at half one and he was due in the shop at 2 to help George on the back to school rush. He had a few more hours before he was due on shift with the Aurors at 8pm.
Rushing from one obligation to the next stressed their marriage unlike the other problems they previously endured.
The Ministry was different on a Friday afternoon. It wasn't crowded, noisy, or even smelled the same. Ron had spent his share of elbow to elbow in the last week with the Aurors on the current mission and his few days off field assignments were a comfort.
He winked at her and she smiled back. They stepped into an empty lift and didn't pay attention to the ride until the door dinged open.
Hermione stepped out first and adjusted her jacket and tucked her hair back into a bun. Ron followed her out, letting her walk in front of him. The view was quite nice. But she was hiding his enthusiasm.
Neither needed the mickey taken for snogging and more in the lift, not when they were walking towards the Department of Law Enforcement. She was busy on her first case and he could only see her in stolen hours on lunch breaks and when he came home at half four in the morning.
He watched her return to her desk and departed silently. He knew his wife. He understood that once she was at her desk, she was back to being a junior grade Solicitor with an important case.
The ride up the lifts and the trip through the Floo were mercifully short. Ron had slept maybe five hours, between his morning's leg over and then meeting Hermione for a slightly later lunch. He was scheduled to work from two until closing before going coming back to his desk and working until half four tomorrow morning. He'd greet his wife at home, have something to tuck into, and crash until much later.
If George didn't pay him so well for the help and he wasn't saving his extra galleons for a place of their own, he'd have blown off working tonight and gone back to the flat for a few hours nap.
"Look Fergus, it's that blood traitor Weasley. Wonder where the sodding Mudblood is at?"
"Surprised she's not acting like a one knut whore down the other alley?"
Ron stopped instantly and turned towards the booth where he saw three wizards sitting to themselves, nursing pints of ale. "Excuse me," he inquired politely. "Did I hear you right?"
"What's it to you, feckin' wanker?" the first old man slurred. "You're not worth the warm piss I'd pour outta me boot."
Ron snorted in disgust. "I should tell Hannah to cut you off. You're too deep in the drink, you are."
The third man, about ten years older than Ron, stood up from the booth. "He's speaking truth, he is. You are a blood traitor and we be seeing ye with that jumped up Mudblood in the papers. You're not worth the shite under me boot and she needs to take her arse back 'ome."
Ron stood before the man, towering over him by six inches and easily three stone. He shifted his stance without being noticed before pocketing his wand in his holster on his leg.
"Insult me all you want but leave her out of it." He'd learned from Hermione that speaking quietly did more than shouting until you were hoarse.
The younger man, standing before Ron, shoved a finger into his chest. "I'll speak my mind and no sodding blood traitor's gonna tell me what for. Shove off and leave us be."
Ron looked at the finger pressing into his chest.
"Shove your finger back in before I remove it for you," he spoke quietly, full of danger.
The other bloke was pissed. He put a second hand onto Ron and tried to shove him backwards into the table behind him.
Ron didn't budge.
The two older wizards at the table laughed at the younger man's feeble attempt to remove Ron from their presence. "Weak arsed little shite. He's no bigger than a turnip sack."
Ron snorted again.
"You're stronger than he is."
"Shut your piehole!" Ron told'em off again.
The younger wizard laughed and took a swing at Ron.
Ron moved much faster than his attacker, twisting his attacker's outstretched arm and twisting it behind his flailing body. He spun the attacker and shoved his face into the table behind him. "You're under arrest for assaulting an Auror." Ron pulled the Portkey cuffs out of his thigh pocket and slammed them onto the suspect. He disappeared immediately, transported to the Ministry holding cells.
"Where'd my boy go? You bring him back now!"
Ron twisted and slipped on his bootstring, falling to the ground while missing the spell flashing over his head. He rolled again and pointed his wand at the second wizard, stunning him in his seat. The third one was trapped next to the wall, hindered by the table and the older wizard holding him down.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll drop your wand and take this one home."
"Problem Ron?" Hannah walked over with her wand in one hand and a huge tankard in the other.
"Yeah, these two need to be cut off. They're too deep in their drink to know that attacking an Auror is a bad job."
"Jannon, take Fergus out of here. I don't want to see you for a month's time. I see you, I call him to throw both of you outta my pub and get a swift kick in the arse from me."
"But what about Kiernan? Where's he at?"
"He's at the Ministry, in a holding cell." Ron pointed his wand at the older wizard, the one who pulled his wand on Ron. He silently sobered him up and woke him as well.
The older wizard looked up from the table and saw Ron towering over him. "The next time you try to stun an Auror, I won't be kind enough to sober you up and let you go. Kiernan is in a holding cell and will be there 'til the morning. I'd suggest to him that having a possible fistfight with an Auror is a bad job."
Ron stepped back from the table. He let Hannah come in front of him, but with his wand now in his hand.
"You sods get out now. You've already hindered my business enough today." Hannah tapped her wand on her apron and shot little sparks out of it.
"My apologies about me family, miss." The second wizard took Fergus out of the pub and down the street.
"What was that about Hannah?"
"They're drunkards without much sense. They come in, talk bollocks and try to start something for a row. One runs his mouth and they get roughed up. Typical sods too deep in their cups."
"Well, if they come back trying to start something, let me know. I'll be up at the shop."
Ron checked his watch and saw he needed to hustle up to be on time. "I'll order around half six. My usual," He told her before turning for the door.
"I'll send it up later when it's ready," She yelled back as he hit the door and took off at a trot towards the wheezes.
He was halfway up the alley when he tripped on a cobble. He stumbled and a spell flashed over his head. He rolled and fired at the direction which the spell came. One man yelled and Ron ducked behind a doorway, trying to see his attackers.
Ron saw them under cover on the edge of Knockturn Alley, hiding in a doorway. He was exposed from their position but he couldn't run for it.
They fired again, at the same time. He jumped from the doorway, just missing the explosion that blew out the wood door of the Apothecary. He fired again, stunning the first assailant.
The other wizard tried to Apparate away and landed where he started. "Feckin' Aurors!" The wizard fired again towards Ron. The spell incinerated the doorway around him. Flames were licking at his cloak.
He had to run.
He took off at a sprint towards the Wheezes. His arm was outstretched, almost to the knob to the shop.
Darkness fell over him.
Ron opened his eyes and saw brown ones looking down at him. "Ronnie, my boy, what have I told you about fighting?"
"Bloody hell," he growled back. He sat up and George shoved him back down onto the warm cobblestones in front of the store.
"Easy there, you pillock. You took a nasty spill. The Healer is on his way to check you over."
"Who was it? Was it Avery or Dolohov?"
"Nah. Some old wizards who were mental 'cause you arrested the son of one."
"Knobhead called Hermione a Mudblood and said it where I could hear it. They were picking a fight and so I took care of it."
"He said you started it in the Pub."
"Rubbish. I ended it. I was going to let the git sleep it off and release him with a warning in the morning. I come out, trying to get to work and those assholes attack me."
"Dumb sods picked on the wrong Weasley, didn't they?" George looked up and grimaced. "Oh blimey. Your wife is here."
Ron complained crudely.
"I came as soon as I heard. Are you alright?"
"Bastard got lucky with a stunner. I'm fine. This git here," Ron pointed at a grinning George, "won't let me up until the Healer gets here to check me over."
"I'll check you over," she muttered and pulled the wand from her arm. She ran it around his head and torso. "Nothing broken but I think a trip to St. Mungo's might be in order."
"I've taken worse spills at home. I'm fine." Ron managed to check his cheek where it was sore.
"And you're a git. You could be hurt inside that head of yours. She's admitted that she loves you for your mind, you know." Mirth was plastered all over George's face.
"He's right. You could be hurt worse than you think." She knelt on the cobblestones at his head. "We could go over there if the Healer isn't here in a minute."
"Sure, and then you can take me home and nurse me back to health," he quietly requested.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can't leave work today. You know that!"
"And yet you're still here," George cheeked.
"That would be nice, though." Ron's smile faded.
"I know," Hermione found his hand and squeezed it. Hermione looked around once again and saw no one else present. "George, help me lift him up."
They worked to get Ron standing. "See, I'm fine."
"And you still look like a Troll."
Ron gave George a rude hand gesture behind his back. George chortled in the alley. They slowly made their way to the Wheezes.
"I'll take him to St. Mungo's then I have to get back to work."
"Sod that, Hermione. You can work tomorrow. Ron needs you." George winked at his brother.
She pouted. "Alright. I'll stay. But I'll have to go in tomorrow. My case starts Monday."
The two of them made it to the Wheezes fireplace. George threw in Floo powder and spoke in a clear voice, St. Mungo's. The newlyweds disappeared in a flash of green flames.