A/N: Hello. Let's see if anyone remembers who I am…it's been awhile, and I apologize for that. I've been very busy for the past few weeks and I feel terrible about it. I really don't think there will be this long of a wait again, and you're welcome to send me angry messages if there is.

Anyway, thank you all so much for the support and feedback! I've been reading fanfiction for a long time, but it wasn't until I started writing again that I really began to fully appreciate the wonderful community of people here, and it's just a joy to share my love of Harry Potter and of Ron/Hermione with all of you. :)

Disclaimer: I may not own Harry Potter but there are two full sets of the books in the room I'm currently sitting in and that makes me feel happy.

"The Last Day of the Year"

31 December 2000

The charmed alarm clock on the bedside table beeped insistently, but Ron determinedly ignored it. Instead, he pulled Hermione closer to himself and squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat meaningfully. Fine, if that's how it was going to be, he thought. The noise was getting rather annoying, after all. He sat up quickly, grabbed the alarm clock, and threw it at the wall with the same amount of strength as he would a Quaffle.

"Really?" Hermione protested drowsily. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes as he settled back against her.

"Yep," Ron said remorselessly, shutting his eyes again and moving his hands lazily over her sides and stomach.

"We're meant to be there in an hour," she reminded him half-heartedly.

"So we've got another forty-five minutes to sleep, then," Ron replied. "Don't see why we have to go, anyway."

"We always go to the Burrow on New Year's Eve," Hermione pointed out, turning over to face him.

"Tired. Feels like the middle of the night," Ron whined as Hermione brought her hands up to his hair.

"I know, but we've just slept all afternoon," she said. "We've just got to be functioning members of society for a few hours and then we can stay in bed all day tomorrow."

Ron grunted in acknowledgement. "I'm not showering."

She moved closer to him and gave a dramatic sniff. "Well, you don't smell too bad, I suppose."

"Oi!" Ron protested, digging his fingers into her side in what he knew was her ticklish spot.

Hermione laughed breathlessly, swatting his hands away and rolling to the edge of her bed. "I do want to take a shower," she informed him, standing up and walking over to pick up the now broken alarm clock. With a wave of her wand, she repaired it and set it back on the bedside table. "You best not complain when I come back for you after."

"Wishful thinking," Ron muttered, burying his face into one of her pillows as he heard her leave the room and make her way into the bathroom. It wasn't that he really wanted to miss his family's celebration; it was just that he was more bloody tired than he'd been in ages.

Ever since Ron had confronted Hermione about the all-consuming nature of her job back in the fall, she had taken care to make sure she balanced her work life and her personal life more effectively. In exchange, he promised not to complain when her job had to be her priority—which was not as easy as it sounded, mind you, but she had upheld her end of the bargain. She'd even taken two weeks off for the holidays at the end of December, and by some stroke of luck, Ron had managed to talk Robards and Price into letting him have a full ten days off. This, of course, came with the understanding that he'd take on the least desirable shifts for as long as they deemed it necessary, but Ron figured it was worth it. Hermione had been overjoyed at the news because it meant they could accompany her parents on their annual winter holiday. This year, they'd chosen to revisit Australia. Though the memories of the year they spent there were hazy at best, they remembered liking it, and besides, a week in the southern hemisphere during December was a promising prospect.

It had been a good holiday, Ron thought in retrospect. They'd flown down the day after Christmas, and Ron was proud to say that he'd traveled via aeroplane and lived to tell the tale. The first few days had been a bit awkward. Though Hermione had somehow convinced her parents that she and Ron would only require one room between them, Ron still felt thoroughly uncomfortable touching her when he knew her dad was across the hall. His relationship with Mr. Granger had improved over the course of the past couple of years, but there was still a definite line that Ron felt as though he was crossing every other moment.

"They think we're shagging in here anyway," Hermione had told him matter-of-factly on their second night there, after he'd reluctantly suggested they simply cuddle after a heated snogging session.

"So what you're saying is I'm not going to be able to look your parents in the eyes either way?" Ron asked sarcastically, unable to discern what kind of silver lining this was supposed to be.

"Exactly, so you might as well get some enjoyment out of it," Hermione said in her best attempt at a seductive voice as she trailed her hand down his chest and stomach.

Needless to say, Ron hadn't taken much more convincing. Of course, the awkward coughing and overly polite greetings between himself and Mr. Granger were by no means avoided, but Ron had come to the conclusion that he'd have to get used to it at some point anyway. He'd briefly wondered how Harry managed to function normally around his dad, but quickly shoved those thoughts out of his mind—he still maintained that Harry and Ginny were virgins, after all, and that they would continue to be long after their children went to Hogwarts.

Much of the holiday had gone by in a blur. Hermione and her parents were accustomed to sightseeing, but Ron couldn't remember for the life of him what half the sites they saw even were. A few of them were interesting and most of them were nice, but he didn't listen with rapt attention like the Grangers did. There were, however, some parts of the trip that Ron was sure he'd never forget—the shark diving, for example.

Apparently, as Ron learned the day before they were meant to return to England, some muggles actually thought it fun to go into an underwater cage and watch sharks as they swim by. And apparently, Mr. Granger was one of these muggles. While Hermione and her mother had downright refused to take part in such an activity, Ron had agreed to join him. Whether he was driven by some subconscious curiosity or simply the desire to be liked by the man that would probably be his father-in-law someday, Ron wasn't entirely sure. He didn't remember many details of the experience because he was so focused on trying not to move or breathe (or exist, really), but he would never forget how close he'd got to an actual fucking shark. As far as he was concerned, no one could ever take the mickey out of him for his arachnophobia again, and even better, Mr. Granger had seemed quite impressed.

They'd spent the rest of that afternoon relaxing on a beach, but soon enough it had been time to return to cold and dreary England. They'd finally got back to Hermione's flat early that morning and had promptly collapsed into bed, exhausted from their week abroad. But it was New Year's Eve and Ron knew his family would never let them skive. If they were more than an hour late, his mother was liable to come looking for them, and he certainly didn't want that to happen.

About ten minutes later, Ron heard footsteps coming back into the bedroom and shortly after, he felt small, delicate fingers on his back. Flipping over abruptly, he reached up and pulled Hermione down on top of him, burying his face in her damp hair and inhaling the scent of her vanilla and honey shampoo. He brought his hands around to rub her back, coming dangerously close to but not quite touching her bum.

"We haven't got time," she reminded him as she pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. She pulled back, wrinkling her nose a little. "You really ought to shave soon, you know."

"Thought you liked it," Ron muttered embarrassedly, bringing a hand up to his face to rub the stubble that had accumulated there over the past week. He'd forgotten to bring a razor to Australia and hadn't been bothered enough to rectify the situation.

"You're handsome either way," Hermione placated, leaning down to peck his lips. "But really Ron, a week is a bit long, don't you think?"

"So it looks good after four days, but it's a bit much after a week?" Ron asked accusingly, squeezing her waist with one hand. She'd certainly seemed to appreciate his facial hair very much a few nights ago, after all.

"Don't start," she replied, prying his hand off of her and standing up again. "It's not that it looks bad, it's just scratchy. You ought to shave before you go back to work, though."

"I was gonna," he said with just a touch of irritation in his voice as finally got out of bed himself. He walked across the room and began to rummage through the drawer of her dresser that had become his. After a moment, he came up with an old pair of jeans and a maroon jumper from two Christmases ago. He made a mental note to leave his luggage from Australia at her flat—he needed more clothes to choose from when he was here.

"Can you believe it's almost been another year?" Hermione asked conversationally as she began to brush and dry her hair. "Seems just yesterday we were ringing in the new millennium."

"Time flies," Ron remarked as he changed his pants and trousers. He smirked to himself as he took a glance at Hermione. If she thought she was being discreet about the way she was watching him in the reflection of the mirror, she was gravely mistaken.

"It was a good year, though," she continued primly, as though she was daring him to say something. He didn't.

"It was," Ron agreed, reflecting momentarily on Victoire's birth and Percy's wedding. "Reckon this one might be a bit quieter."

"You think?"

"We can only take so many babies and weddings at a time," Ron said, tossing her one of his jumpers to wear. While others would dress up for New Year's, Weasleys would wear their jumpers. Of course, Hermione had been receiving her own Weasley jumpers at Christmas for a few years now, but Ron preferred to see her in his, and she had no qualms about it.

"It's sort of to be expected, you know," Hermione replied casually. "We're all twenty-somethings now, after all."

"You're a twenty-something," Ron replied. "I've still got a few months of being just plain twenty."

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "You really think it'll be a quiet year, then?"

"Dunno," Ron said thoughtfully. He hesitated for a moment, but then continued: "I mean, I'd think we'd be next, you know? But not yet, right?" he asked apprehensively, forcing himself to meet her eyes.

"No, not yet, I don't think," Hermione replied softly, giving him a small smile. "Though I don't suppose we can put it off too much longer, can we?"

"No, not too much longer," Ron affirmed, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. They exchanged looks that said far more than their words had: We're not putting it off, not really. Just a bit longer, just a bit more money to save. We both want this, sooner rather than later.

"We might not be next though," she continued matter-of-factly, tearing her eyes from his as she put the finishing touches on her hair, tying it back practically.

"Who else?" Ron asked quizzically.

"Harry and Ginny have been together just as long as we have," Hermione pointed out.

"Doesn't mean it's on the table for them yet," Ron insisted, trying and failing to recall any time that speckled git, as he referred to him when it came to Ginny, had seemed interested in marrying his sister.

Hermione just bit her lip and sighed heavily. Ron furrowed his eyebrow in response. "What do you know?" he asked carefully.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, knowing she would cave in fairly quickly. Neither of them could keep a secret from the other for very long anymore. They'd made a point in the past couple of years to be as open and honest as possible, and neither was very comfortable with anything less. "Oh, alright, but as far as anyone else knows I didn't say a word," Hermione relented after a moment of tense eye contact.

"Go on," Ron prompted, nodding in affirmation that, as always, what was said between them would stay between them.

"I don't know anything for certain," Hermione said slowly, sitting next to Ron on the bed, "but a couple of weeks ago, Harry asked me which types of gemstones Ginny preferred."

"That could be for any type of jewelry," Ron pointed out. "It was just Christmas."

"But when was the last time you saw Ginny wear jewelry?" Hermione asked, raising any eyebrow.

"Fair point," Ron conceded, "but Harry's never been particularly good at hiding things like this."

"You've never been great at noticing, either," Hermione said gently.

"But he'd have told me," Ron insisted. "Wouldn't he have?" Come to think of it, he and Harry very rarely discussed their relationships, but that was to be expected given the circumstances. But still, surely his best mate would have mentioned something as big as this…surely…

"I wouldn't be too surprised if he hadn't," Hermione said, cutting through Ron's thoughts. She read the hurt look on his face immediately and added, "Just think, Ron. Would you have told him?"

Ron thought for a moment. Would he have? There wasn't really a way to drop something like that into casual conversation, and he and Harry dreaded having conversations that were anything other than casual. Those kinds of conversations were generally followed by lots of fake coughing and several minutes of avoiding eye contact before abruptly changing the subject. "Probably not, unless he'd asked," Ron admitted honestly.

"And you didn't ask him," Hermione pointed out. "Don't dwell on it too much. We don't know anything for sure." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and threaded her fingers through his. "Let's go, shall we?"

A few minutes later, they were stepping through the fireplace into the sitting room of the Burrow. A loud roar greeted their arrival, and soon they were surrounded by a gaggle of tipsy Weasleys eager to ask them about Australia. Mum was nearly in tears as she pulled them both into a hug, and Ron dared not point out to her that she'd just seen them on Christmas. After greeting everyone and retelling the story of the sharks several times, Ron and Hermione finally made their way into the kitchen.

"What do you say, is the prospect of another year with me enough for you to have some real liquor tonight?" Ron asked Hermione jokingly as he poured himself a glass of firewhiskey.

"When you put it that way, I guess I better," Hermione replied, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she offered him her glass. He filled it up and handed it back to her, raising his eyebrows in a silent dare. She took a dainty sip and he let out a whoop, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders as they made their way back into the sitting room.

"Oi, Ron!" George called as they walked in, beckoning them toward him and Angelina Johnson, his not-quite-girlfriend. "Are you fucking mental?" he asked, slurring only slightly as he gripped his brother's shoulder.

"What?" Ron asked innocently.

"He wants to know why in Merlin's name you swam with sharks!" Angelina said, laughing as she took a swig of George's drink.

"Zactly! Guess once you've ridden a couple of dragons those ruddy sharks don't seem so bad, eh?" George asked, winking obnoxiously.

"It wasn't even that dangerous. I was in a cage," Ron muttered, wishing he hadn't told this story at all. It made for a cool anecdote, but it wasn't something he particularly wanted to talk about at length, especially not with his drunk brother.

Angelina and George looked at each other and laughed harder. "They put you in a cage? When you were swimming with sharks?" George asked incredulously. "Clearly you're a bit unstable, mate, but really—"

"Well you can't very well put a wild shark in a cage, can you?" Ron snapped a little irritably, though deep down he was pleased to see the teasing expression on George's face. His sense of humor had been a bit off since the war, but it seemed to come out best when he was with Angie.

"Leave him be, he was just trying to impress my dad," Hermione said helpfully. Ron groaned.

"Ah, wanted to prove to Mr. Granger that his daughter's seeing someone with bollocks! It all makes sense now," George said, nodding knowingly. "Can't have the man thinking his little girl's unsatisfied, can we?"

"Oh, George, you're embarrassing him!" Angelina said, giggling as she pointed at Ron's reddening face.

"Nah, that's just his natural color," George quipped. "Hermione finds it quite becoming, I'm sure. That and the pathetic attempt at facial hair is what sealed the deal, I'd wager."

"Good-bye, George," Ron said promptly, steering Hermione toward where Harry was sitting and leaving George and Angelina to their own devices.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked as a way of greeting as he and Hermione sat down next to Harry on the sofa.

"Coming from practice," Harry replied anxiously, his eyes darting over to the fireplace every few seconds. "Gwenog's been pushing them harder than usual the past couple weeks, thinks they've got a shot at winning the League this year."

"They have," Ron said fairly, considering for a moment each of the top teams. Holyhead had been among the best clubs for quite some time, but they always seemed to fall just short. "Can't count out those damn Tornadoes, though."

"We never can," Harry agreed. "So really, how was Australia compared to last time?"

"Far less stressful," Hermione answered. "It was so nice to simply be there on holiday; it's really a beautiful country. We saw so little of it when we were all there, but we were able to do so much even in just a week. And it was so lovely to spend time with my parents; it's been ages since I've gone on holiday with them, and they finally had a chance to really get to know Ron, which was wonderful."

"Yeah," Ron said vaguely. "I spent seven days actively making sure your dad couldn't find a reason to hate me." This elicited a chuckle from Harry, but Hermione frowned.

"My dad never hated you, and you certainly didn't need to indulge his shark obsession to make it so. Honestly, Ron, just because we slept in the same room didn't mean you had to compensate by participating in Dad's idea of what constitutes fun…"

Harry was nearly doubled over in laughter now. "Oh, piss off," Ron scowled, shoving Harry just enough to make him hit the arm of the sofa with some force.

"You went shark diving," Harry said incredulously, still chortling. "You went shark diving because her dad found out you two—y'know—sleep in the same bed. Which, based on my unfortunately fairly accurate knowledge, you've been doing for well over two years."

"Isn't it a bit ridiculous?" Hermione asked Harry, grinning widely and giggling as she took another sip of her drink.

Ron glared at his friends unkindly. "It's easy for the two of you to say. Mum and Dad loved both of you long before we all stopped believing in cooties."

"Oh, give it a rest," Harry said, waving him off. "It's nice to have you both back in the country, anyway."

"I expect the department's fallen apart without me," Ron remarked, smirking casually.

"I did have a case out in Glasgow the other day that you might've liked," Harry replied, glancing at the fireplace quickly as he spoke.

"They made you go all the way out to Glasgow?" Ron asked incredulously. Generally they weren't called out of England for their daily work.

"Yeah, it was bizarre. It all started with an elfish prostitution ring, actually—"

Hermione's outraged shriek was drowned out by a triumphant roar from the rest of the party—Ginny had just stepped through the fireplace, and Harry immediately jumped out of his seat to rush to her side. Before anyone really had a chance to register what was happening, Ginny was holding up her left hand to display a large diamond on her ring finger. Delighted screams and shouts of congratulations filled the air. Ron felt his mouth drop open. Even the warning he'd received earlier had not quite prepared him for this new development.

"Oh, that's wonderful! I was right!" Hermione squealed—her voice was a bit higher than normal, as it tended to be when she drank anything with actual alcohol in it.

Ron shook himself out of his stupor and looked toward his girlfriend, smiling affectionately. She was still giggling and clapping her hands enthusiastically, a little bit of firewhiskey spilling out of her glass with every clap. Ron couldn't help but swoop down and kiss her cheek sloppily before standing up and offering her a hand.

"Do you think I was right to tell him to buy a diamond? It's classic, you know, and Ginny's not particularly fussy—" Hermione said hurriedly as she allowed him to pull her up.

"It looks great," Ron assured her as they approached the throng of Weasleys surrounding the fireplace, which Ginny had barely got out of before being mobbed. Over several heads, Harry caught Ron's eye. Ron was immediately reminded of a similar moment in the Gryffindor common room all those years ago, and just as he had then, he gave Harry an approving nod—but this time, he couldn't help but grin widely, an expression Harry reciprocated immediately. He was beyond okay with what was happening this time; he was really, truly happy for them.

"Guess we aren't next," Ron muttered to a teary-eyed Hermione as he waited for the small crowd to thin.

"We'll be next after the next," Hermione said a little dreamily, turning to smile brilliantly at him.

"We're the ones engaged, and you're the ones making eyes at each other," Ginny made her presence known, as usual, by making a snarky remark. Hermione squealed again and tackled the younger girl in a hug. As the girls began talking in fast, excited voices about Ginny's ring and wedding plans, Harry made his way over to Ron.

"You'll be my best man, yeah?" Harry said sincerely, extending a hand.

"I should hope so. I haven't been saving your sorry arse all these years for nothing, you know," Ron replied, taking Harry's hand and shaking it firmly while using his other hand to clap Harry's back. Harry mimicked him, and soon they were embracing—but in a very manly fashion, of course.

"Fuck, mate. You're getting married," Ron said incredulously as they separated.

"I know," Harry said, clearly a little shell-shocked to hear the words spoken out loud. He laughed disbelievingly, and Ron joined him. In that moment, it truly didn't matter one bit to Ron that Harry hadn't told him sooner.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, nearly jumping him in her enthusiasm to embrace him and clearly knocking the wind out of him.

Ron chuckled and pulled Ginny into a hug. "Congratulations, brat," he murmured affectionately.

"Thanks, prat," Ginny said, pulling away and punching him lightly on the arm. She frowned when she looked fully at his face. "Shave."

Ron let out a frustrated groan. "It doesn't look that bad!"

"Well, I don't know how Hermione can kiss you with that shite all over your face. Then again I don't know why she kisses you at all, so…" Ginny said, smirking.

"Grow up. You'll be a married woman soon," Ron said, poking her in the shoulder.

"I will, won't I?" Ginny said thoughtfully, bringing her hand in front of her face to admire her ring as Harry put his arm around her shoulders, evidently having been freed from Hermione's death grip.

At that moment, Bill came in from the kitchen holding several more bottles of firewhiskey to toast Harry and Ginny, and the whole family erupted in shouts and, in some cases, tears. The whole room was filled with carefree laughter, and as Ron allowed his gaze to sweep over his family and his best friends, he was fairly certain he'd never been quite so happy. Things weren't perfect, everyone knew that, but there would always be some things they simply couldn't change. All in all, the good did outweigh the bad.

So, when Ron turned to face Hermione and saw that her expression undoubtedly mirrored his own, he couldn't help but kiss her. He ignored the hollering of his brothers ("It's not even midnight yet!"), because he was simply too blissful to bother. All was well, and with any luck, it would only get better from here.

A/N: Well, it's kind of unfortunate that we came back on a fairly short chapter, and in the interest of full disclosure I will admit that this is not one of my favorite chapters – but I think perhaps you could all use the pointless fluff as a break between the last chapter and the next. I will assure you that there is not another fight in the next bit, but there will be an actual plot to contend with, haha. So anyway, I'm sorry this took so long and I hope it was at least sort of worth the wait. Please let me know if you catch any mistakes - I was in a bit of a hurry to get it actually posted! Thank you as always, lovelies. :)