As the pair approached the their destination, Ron experimented with his shoulder again. The dittany had helped, but the effects would take a few hours to really set in. Their footsteps echoed down Diagon Alley's almost empty streets.
The people that were out seemed to be less stable on their feet than most. Ron glared pointedly at a young couple tripping over the cobblestones and clutching at each other suggestively. They looked like they were each holding the other up, and it was beyond Ron's realm of knowledge how they managed to stay vertical. Sort of vertical, he thought as the pair began to lean dangerously to the side.
He and Harry came to a stop in front of the address Robards had given them and neither moved for a moment. It looked pretty bleak for them. Ron glanced down to look at his watch. He sighed and dropped his arm, staring at the windows, but not seeing much.
"It's after three in the morning." He said. Harry grunted, squinting at the window. Ron didn't blame him. He continued on. "It's three in the morning and they're still going."
"I can see that, Ron. I'm standing right here." Harry was leaning closer, as if he could change what they were seeing.
"No need to get touchy! I'm just saying, okay? It's three in the morning and they're still going and-"
"And they've fogged up the windows! Yes. I see that, Ron. Thank you." Harry crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, assessing. Ron let him work and let his eyes wander down the row of windows hoping for a peek inside. Nothing. All he could see was a glow from the lights, blurry movements and thick condensation. Ron tapped his foot, wanting to get a move on.
"Don't rush me. I'm…I'm thinking."
Ron scoffed at his friend. "Harry, you've been dead before. How much worse can this be?"
Harry took a deep breath and started forward quickly, as if he didn't want to lose his nerve. Ron clapped him on the back and followed inside. As soon as the door opened a rush of sound punched out into the night. Though the September night was only mildly chilly, the blast of heat that came out of the club surprised Ron.
Once inside, Ron cast a speaking spell so that he and Harry could hear each other. Odds were, they'd get lost in a crowd like this, and if one of them needed a quick escape, the other would know.
"I'm going to talk to the bartender." Harry said in a normal tone. The spell picked him up perfectly. Which was good, Ron thought, because the giant crowd was moving, swirling. Bodies pressed them on all sides and they'd all ready shuffled a few feet away from each other.
"Do you want me to go get her?" Ron asked. Harry nodded at him as he turned and made his way closer to the bar. Ron turned in the other direction, scanning out across the crowd to find a familiar…
There. "Found Luna." Ron said and began to walk towards the blonde girl.
"Luna's here? Now they're just going out of their way to corrupt her." Harry said, still trying to weed his way to the bartender. It was turning out to be harder than he'd thought. He'd already been stepped on twice.
"I'm not sure they see it as corruption. More like an education." Ron said, then tapped the girl in question on the shoulder. Luna turned and her dreamy eyes crinkled into a smile.
"Hello, Ron." She said. He could just barely make out her words. "Are you here for the party? I hope you've had some flitterbloom oil. Otherwise this noise is terrible for the wrackspurts. They'd be in you forever." She smiled serenely, despite the pounding music around them and the flood of bodies.
"I definitely don't want a wrackspurt in me today." Ron said distractedly. He swiveled his head around trying to look for Hermione, but this club had so many levels and stages he couldn't see a thing. Through the speaking spell, he heard Harry curse loudly, then speak some rather fierce words to someone.
"Luna, have you seen Hermione or Ginny?" He asked, raising his voice so she could hear him. Harry spoke some rather fierce words at Ron, then, for almost bursting his eardrums.
"Don't be a pansy, Potter." Ron muttered, following the direction of Luna's pointing hand. He moved slowly through the thick crowd, but finally shouldered and elbowed his way to the door labeled "VIP section". The bouncer stopped him with a rough hand.
"No one past this point without a wristband for the Weasley party." The man said. Ron narrowed his eyes.
"How about this?" He asked, flicking open his jacket to reveal his auror's badge. "And, I'll do you one better." He said, reaching up to point to his head. The bouncer looked at Ron's badge and patent Weasley red hair and shuffled back, unlatching the velvet rope to let him in.
Ron wasn't sure whether it was his badge or his hair that had done the trick, but he wasn't going to question it. He had bigger things on his mind. Like…
Ron squinted and cocked his head to the side. Like, what was his sister doing up on the bar? What was Angelina doing taking a shot off the bar with her hands behind her back? Why, exactly was Fleur dancing by herself in the middle of the floor? Speaking of floor, was that…was that Aurdrey sitting on the ground by herself and laughing?
"They're in the VIP room." Ron said to Harry though the spell. "You're gonna need to get in here and see this for yourself."
"Why? What's in there?" Ron could hear the dread and resignation in Harry's voice.
"You…you won't even believe it till you see it, mate. Let's just say there was a reason we were called in." Speaking of reasons, he surveyed the room again. There was no sign of his wife in the crowd. Though, Ron conceded, there were so many people in here that he probably wouldn't spot her anyways without a really thorough look-over.
He grabbed a woman walking by him. He recognized her from somewhere…Hermione's office? Harpies? He didn't know and didn't care to ask.
"Have you seen Hermione Weasley?" He asked her. The woman squinted at him and started to say something…then broke out into giggles. He waited patiently for at least a minute before the girl stumbled away, still laughing and drunk to join Fleur on the dance floor.
He was about to stop someone else when he spotted her. She was next to the bar laughing as Ginny tried to climb down without falling. Ron jumped to help his sister, grabbing her around the waist and lowering her feet to the floor before she hurt herself. Ginny turned to look at him and sloppy delight broke over her face.
"My bruver!" She mumbled, hugging him close. "My fav'rte one! 're so niiiice." She slurred, releasing him and almost falling over before Ron could make a grab for her. She caught herself and sat down hard on a barstool.
His eyes slid to Hermione. She was standing next to him and smiling serenely. If she hadn't been swaying just the tiniest bit, he'd never have known she was tipsy.
"Hello." He said, stepping closer. Her smile widened and she raised her arms to loop around his neck. When he pulled her closer, she stumbled. "Hermione, are you drunk?" He asked. He'd only seen her under the influence a few times, but when he had, he'd always been amused. She pulled back and frowned at him, lifting her dainty nose into the air.
"Of course not, Ronlald. I'm slimply…that's not the word. Simply…no…Only…I'm only slimply…" Her eyebrows began to draw together.
"Merely?" Ron helped, knowing his wife and her vocabulary well enough to assist her. Her brow smoothed and she smiled.
"Merely. Yes. Merely." She reached up to pet his cheek and her lips tilted in an indulgent way. "Merely…Merereely…What was I…?"
"Merely drunk." Ron helped again. He couldn't recall if he'd ever seen Hermione this "merely drunk", in fact. Maybe Percy and Audrey's engagement dinner? Nah, not even then. She held a finger up in front of his nose as if to prove a point.
"Merely slightly inebriated, Ron." She said sternly. Her bossy, know-it-all voice reminded him of when they'd been in school and she'd lectured him about putting off his homework.
She sighed languidly and slid her arms up, resting her chin on his shoulder. She was muttering something, but he couldn't hear. He felt her muscles begin to relax and he gripped her tighter, knowing that she was likely to just fall asleep standing up against him. Not that he would mind.
He reached in between them to bring out his badge and flashed it to the bartender. The guy knew what was what and reached overhead to ring a huge gong for last call. Ron nodded at him. Now all that was left to do was to wait for Harry to come take care of his sister and he could go home. He pulled Hermione closer.
When was the last time he'd held her this close? Days? A week? It seemed like years. And she was all but asleep on her feet and plastered up against him, and he was wounded and hadn't slept for forty-eight hours. He should be thinking about putting her in bed and getting in there with her. So they could sleep.
But his mind had stalled on the whole "plastered up against him" thing, and then skipped straight to the part where he put her in bed and got in there with her. But from then, he couldn't quite convince his mind that he wanted anything to do with sleep after that. As if reading his mind, Hermione hummed in pleasure and wriggled against him.
"You brought Harry!" She sounded delighted and sleepy. Ron nodded and rubbed her back, watching as several people left the bar to head out the door. Next to them, Ginny squealed and jumped on his best friend. He turned a blind eye to that and started looking around for Hermione's coat. Suddenly she tensed up in his arms and pulled her head back. Ron caught her waist as she stumbled.
"Does that mean we're in trouble with the law?" She asked, eyes wide. She whispered the last two words as is if she was saying something dangerous. Her voice was so low Ron barely heard her. He laughed before he could stop himself.
"Maybe a little bit, Love." Her eyes grew wider and she looked frantically worried. "Don't worry, Hermione." Ron said, rubbing her back some more. "I think I know someone who's an auror. He'll probably vouch for you in court."
Hermione looked conflicted, then confused before understanding slowly slid over her face. She narrowed her eyes.
"You know someone?" She asked. He nodded. "Do I happenen…Happen to be married to him?" She asked, speaking carefully after correcting herself. If there's one thing Hermione hates it's mistakes. Ron smirked. Especially her own.
"It just so happens that you do." He told her, watching Harry start to drag his fiancé out of the club through the back door. Good eye, Potter. Don't need to carry them through the front bar again.
"I remem-bemem-berr the day I married him…" Hermione tripped over her words but began to chatter all the same. He kept one ear on her and one eye out for her coat. There. Draped over a chair and covered in glitter. Ron didn't even want to know about the chocolate stains all down the side.
"…And then we went to France. Do you rebember France, Ron? It was so beau-fitul! Beauf…betuf…"
"Beautiful, Hermione. Just like you." He said, dropping a kiss on her head before turning to the door. Ahead of them, Harry had given up the dragging and hefted Ginny over his shoulder. She was laughing hysterically and drying tears of mirth on the back of his un-tucked shirt.
Ron followed them out into the back alley and waved to Harry as his friend and his sister dis-apparated into the night, Ginny's hoots of laughter still ringing off the cobblestones. Ron patted Hermione's jacket.
"Hermione, where's your wand?"
"Then we went- What wand? Oh, wand." Hermione frowned and took a shaky step back, patting down the front of her shirt. It did not contain her wand or any pockets. "I know I…jacket." She twisted her body around, following herself in a circle as if her jacket would magically appear behind her. Ron shot out a hand to steady her and showed her the jacket.
"Wand's not in here, Hermione." He said. She frowned deeper and studied the jacket for a few seconds before suddenly bending down to tug at her jeans. Ron tightened his grip on her so she didn't fall. When she came back up, she had her wand in her hand.
"In your shoe?" He asked, looking at the small holster around her ankle where her jeans were still pulled up.
"Yes in my shoe, Ronald." She had that haughty tone back in her voice and she put her nose in the air once more. "Can you think of a better place to put it? I knew I was about to be inebebriated! If I dint put it someplace good, I'd not rebember!"
Ron smiled at her slurred speech and flawless Hermione argument. He bent and sealed his mouth over hers. She tasted like limes and salt, cut by the sharp flavor of firewhiskey and something else. Something sweet but tangy. And, of course, the luscious ever-present taste of Hermione.
He moaned into her mouth and she grinned, reaching up to pull him closer. A noise made him pull back. He looked down at their feet.
"Hermione your wand." He said, reaching down and retrieving it from where it had fallen on the uneven alley. As soon as he was upright again, she lunged at him and his back hit the brick wall. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and his head spun.
Gripping both their wands, he pulled her hips closer to his. Through the thin cotton of her shirt, Ron could feel her heated skin. I have so missed this… He thought, before Hermione's hand slid downwards and his mind went blank. Her fingers were feverishly working the button on his pants when a crash at the end of the alley made Ron jerk his head up and point both wands at the disturbance.
An old wizard with a smock looked half scared and half amused as he threw the rest of his trash into the pile for the garbage wizards. Ron lowered the wands and waved apologetically as the man went back inside. Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair and bent back to his wife, who was now also shaking.
She tilted his face up to his and seized up with a fresh wave of laughter. She tilted dangerously to the side.
"Alright." Ron muttered. "Time for home." He tightened his grip on his wife and apparated to their house.