A/N: Hello friends, sorry it took so fucking long. I was busy with other things.
By the way that the more 'knowing' pedestrians of the seaside town were looking at them as they walked along the pavement, hand in hand, they might as well have had sex earlier that morning. That was what they looked like. Post-coital.
"Stop smiling," Hermione hissed to Ron. "People are staring."
"Let them stare. I'm happy."
"They think we've..!"
"They think we've what, Hermione?" he smirked. She scowled and did not reply. They walked on through the town in silence, peering in shops and dodging fast-paced walkers. Ron kept his eyes on his girlfriend, who was trying ever so hard to look grumpy. Not long later, she caught his eye and her grin escaped.
"See? Even you're pleased as punch!" he teased.
She rolled her eyes.
"And you know why?" he continued. He leaned in to whisper into her ear, his arm snaking round her hips. "I gave you an org-"
She elbowed him in the ribs, making him wince in pain.
"Keep your voice down, Romeo! I feel uncomfortable enough as it is without you drawing attention to the fact that we explored the boundaries of our relationship this morning."
Ron laughed loudly. She grimaced.
"Hermione, this isn't the 1800's. People aren't ashamed of sex anymore!
"We didn't even have sex!"
"If anything, people are proud of it!"
"Only arrogant losers, Ronald," she sighed.
He shrugged. Being an arrogant loser was brilliant. He hadn't felt this content in years.
She lead him into a quiet cafe in the middle of a row of narrow terraced shops. It was just as calm in here as the ocean's tide was out there. None of the morning's customers were under seventy years old, and they kept up enough quiet chatter for Ron and Hermione's conversation to be private in the corner of the cafe. Hermione left Ron alone at the window seat while she ordered breakfast.
He was still grinning, which was embarrassing. He hid his face in his hand and pretended to rub his stubble which was disconcertingly prominent, having not shaved since leaving England.
"Here," said Hermione, arriving and placing a red plastic tray of two steel pots of tea on the table. "They'll bring over breakfast in a second. It's pancakes. I thought you might fancy some, seeing as we missed Pancake Day this year..."
"Did my stubble annoy you earlier?"
"...sorry?"
"Here's your pancakes..." droned a female voice. They both jumped in alarm. A plump, miserable-looking woman slouched beside their table holding two plates piled with soggy pancakes. She dumped them on the table and waddled away.
"These look... nice," Hermione commented.
"I haven't shaved in a couple of days," continued Ron. "And, you know, after this morning..."
Hermione looked down at her plate and smiled inwardly to herself. "It wasn't a problem."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
Ron stared at her as she looked up at him. Self-consciously, but undeniable sexily, she winked.
Ron nearly moaned.
"You know..." he began, before clearing his throat. "You know, I believe I still owe you."
Hermione picked up her knife and fork and began to cut up her congealed pancakes. "Owe me what?" she asked innocently.
Ron raised an eyebrow at her.
She smirked. "Please don't be cryptic, Ronald. I cannot help you nor understand you unless you're clear."
Ron huffed. Two could play at that game.
"I OWE YOU AN ORGASM, HERMIONE GRANGER." he said loudly.
Two waitresses' jaws dropped as they gawped at Ron and Hermione, whose face was the colour of beetroot.
Ron grinned smugly at her. "Was that clear enough?"
"You're an arse, Ronald Weasley..." she whispered.
"And you're in love with me, so I'm not allowed to change."
"I may be in love with you, but I can withhold sexual activities until you learn to behave."
Ron gaped at her. "So you're saying that in this relationship, I have to behave myself in order to be rewarded with orgasms? Is that how it works?"
"That's exactly how it works."
Ron crossed his arms. "That sounds like a door that can be opened both ways, Miss Granger."
"Fine by me!"
"Fine!"
"Good!"
"Great!"
"Brilliant!"
The pair stared crossly at each other before resuming eating. They both looked down at the grey splats of batter on their plates. They'd seen more appetising clay.
They looked up at each other and burst out laughing.
Hermione tossed a few coins into the tip dish while Ron stood up. He held out his hand. "Madam, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the dentist, this fine morning?"
Hermione giggled at his adopted upper-class accent. "I'd be delighted, kind Sir!" she took his hand, eliciting a welcomed fluttery feeling in their stomachs, which let them know that after all the fighting and death, they were still love-struck teenagers, eagerly exploring the magical land of sexual discovery.
Out on the pavement, they walked up the hill hand in hand. Neither of them mentioned it, but they were both aware that they hadn't come up with any sort of plan for when they arrived at the dentists'. They didn't even have an appointment.
"By the way..." Hermione added slyly, as they paused to cross the road. "You don't owe me anything. We're even."
"Don't be silly," said Ron. He waited until they'd crossed the road into the quiet lane before continuing. "You gave me a hand job at my house and a blow job this morning..."
Hermione grinned sheepishly.
"And I went down on you this morning. That means that I've had two and you've had one. I owe you one. Unless..."
"Women can have multiple orgasms, Ron."
"I know, but..."
"So think about it."
Ron stopped. "Oh."
She kept on walking. "And the penny drops..." she glanced back at him. Anyone would've thought he was in shock, but Hermione wasn't just anybody. He had the same look on his face as soon as it was announced that Gryffindor had won the match, thanks to Ron. Or when Voldemort died. Or when Hermione first kissed him. Smug bloody pride.
"Did you really think I was going to fend off your sexual advances, Ron? I might have more manners than you, but I'm not that much of a prude."
"Evidently..." he said shakily, walking forward to take her hand in his again. They continued walking.
"I wasn't going to say anything, because that would've been deceitful," she said.
"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "You just wanted another romp!"
Hermione blushed, but she shrugged none the less. "You'd have done the same."
The dentist's small bungalow came into sight. There were very few cars parked outside it and the whole hot lane was silent. Crickets, shimmering horizon, dentists' drill, baking gravel, melting skin. Frizzy hair.
Ron stroked the back of Hermione's head when they reached the surgery. "I hate to sound like a prick, but what the fuck is our plan?" he asked.
Hermione sighed. "The invisibility cloak's in my bag. I go in and decide whether I'm selfish enough to restore my parents' memories."
Ron sighed. "It wouldn't be selfish, Hermione. You're their daughter. They'd want you back."
"But they have a son, Ron! A ten-year old! What are they going to do if I bring them back? They'd never have gone through with it before!"
"Then..." Ron didn't want to be blunt, but he had to. "Erase their memories again."
Hermione gulped, but nodded. She understood. "This trip would've been for nothing, then."
"Oh, I dunno about that..." Ron shrugged with a grin. She slapped him slightly on the arm.
He watched her look over the deserted road at the surgery. Her parents were in there. Right there. Their son was at school.
As soon as he heard her shakily inhale, he stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. Her arms went around his waist immediately. She nuzzled his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
"You'll be okay," he promised her, hugging her tighter. "Whatever happens, you'll be happy again eventually. I'll make sure you're happy again."
"I know you will," came her muffled voice. She leant back and looked up at him with watery eyes. "You make me happy, Ron. Being with you..." she trailed off, unable to finish. It wasn't that she was overwhelmed: it was that she couldn't describe it. She was happy because he was with her. After knowing, for years, that he would never be with her...
He kissed her, still cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him.
"See you later, then," he said eventually, glumly, as she pulled away.
She smiled sadly. "I hope this works..."
"It will. Like you'd ever fuck up a spell, Hermione..."
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Ronald. That's sweet of you."
"Go on. I'll be out here."
"Ok..."
She reluctantly walked away from him, towards the dental surgery. He watched her disappear inside, internally grimacing at the ache in his stomach now that her arms weren't around him. It was embarrassing. Then again, did he really care? His brothers weren't around. Neither was anyone else. Just him and her, and her parents.
A smile started to grow on his face. It was short-lived.
It seemed that fate was on her side. The receptionist's back was turned as she lazily flicked through a folder of dental records from a cabinet behind the desk. The radio was turned up loud. Hermione's tip-toeing went unnoticed. Her hand rested on her jeans pocket anyway. She didn't want to Confund anyone, but needs must if she wanted her family back.
The waiting room was empty. The first dentists' room was empty. On the wide-open door was a plaque that read "Dr. M. Wilkins". Where was she?
Probably helping her son settle in at home. Figures...
Hermione sucked in a breath as she came to the third room on the corridor. White, clean, soft French music playing...
"Oh!" gasped Wendell Wilkins in surprise. He set down a pile of medical notes and beamed at her. "Are you Felicia Tilney?" he asked her. "You're a bit early. Your appointment wasn't until eleven, but... I suppose I have nothing better to do!" he grinned again. Each oblivious smile pierced her.
"Um, yes, I... something came up and... I need..." she stuttered, the wand in her jeans starting to feel heavy.
"Ah, don't worry, Miss Tilney! We all have those days !" he laughed to himself. Hermione shamelessly stared at him.
"Robert Granger..." she heard herself say.
Dr Wilkins began to snap plastic gloves onto his hands. "Sorry?"
"Do you know who he is?"
He sniffed. "The name rings a bell. Why... should I?" he looked at her. Hermione waited with baited breath as he searched her face for something, almost as though trying to remember something. It was painful. She wanted Ron to come in.
"I remember you..." he said next. "You came into my surgery yesterday! Crikey, I am so sorry! Big day yesterday, remember? My son came home with us for the first time," he beamed with pride.
Hermione wanted to sink to the floor. She wanted Ron to do the spell.
"That's right, I did..." she said numbly.
He started to look uncomfortable. "You left in a bit of a hurry yesterday, I recall! Are you back for your check-up? I'm surprised Rachel fitted you in at such short notice..."
"No, no, erm... It's fine, I just... I think I left my handbag in here yesterday."
Dr Wilkins shrugged. "Nope! No handba-" his jolly expression vanished. "You booked an appointment though..."
Hermione gulped. "Yes, I did."
Her hand slowly rapped around the handle of her wand.
"Your name was Granger yesterday. Are you Granger or Brooks?"
"Granger... and so is yours."
"Excuse me?"
"Dad," he voice broke as she slid the wand out of her pocket. She aimed it at him with a trembling hand.
His eyes widened. "What are you doing?" he took a step backwards. "What is that?"
She took a deep breath. "Salvio Hexia..."
Ron was not standing outside any more.
He'd been leaning against the fence post, trying to ignore the rising temperature, contemplating whether or not to check up on Hermione when he saw it...
The biggest fucking spider he had ever seen. Not an acromantula, oh no. This was what he could only assume to be the Huntsman spider that Hermione had spoken of.
Brown, beady-eyed and fucking huge... audibly scuttling towards him across the dusty road.
Ron had launched himself up the driveway of the surgery.
"Hey! Do you have an app-" the receptionist began to say.
"No, er, my, er, girlfriend's in there with, er... her dentist."
"But there hasn't been any-"
"Gotta go, BYE!" he whimpered as he sprinted across reception to the corridor.
He went straight past the waiting room. He barely glanced in the empty dental surgery. He found her soon enough. He'd arrived just in time, it seemed. She was stood by the door, pointing her wand at a fair-haired man, whose eyes were wide, watery and horror-stricken.
"What's happened?" asked Ron breathlessly. Nobody turned to face him.
"I just cast the spell..." her voice shook.
Then, Robert Granger sunk to his knees in front of them, his eyes still fixed on hers.
"...Dad?"
"Wendell?"
Ron and Hermione spun round. In the doorway stood a pretty woman of no more than fifty, with thick dark hair, staring at the scene in confusion.
"What's going on?" she asked. She stared hard at Hermione. "Do I know you?"
"Monica..." they heard her husband whimper. "Jean?"
Monica Wilkins' eyes widened. "What on Earth... Wendell, are you alright?!" she rushed into the room, straight past Hermione and Ron. Ron glanced towards his girlfriend, who looked ill. She was shaking violently. He rushed over and put an arm round her shoulders.
"Hermione?" he whispered. "I think it's worked."
"What have I done?" she cried quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Wendell, do you need an ambulance? Can you hear me?" she bent down and held his shoulders. The wreck of a man grabbed her arms.
"Jean..." he sobbed. "Hermione's back..."
A/N: And that's the end of the story! LOLjk there's about 10 chapters left. Or 20. Or somewhere in between.
Anyway, thanks for all the reviews. Do keep them coming.