Chapter 22

"I can't believe I lived eleven years of my life without magic." Harry smirked as he stared out the window of Ron and Hermione's flat, watching the stragglers of the day making their way back home from Diagon Alley.

Despite the music raging, the lights flashing, and the ridiculous raucous that was coming from above, the people on the street below seemed not to notice. In fact, they would hear no sound at all.

"I mean, how great is this? Throwing a party and you don't even upset the neighbours?"

"Yeah, well, lucky for us," Ron said, glancing around at the small room filled with more people than Ron had ever anticipated. Having a few close friends over had turned into half of their year turning up, word of mouth spreading rapidly. It had been unexpected, though a pleasant surprise. Some of these people Ron hadn't seen in over a year, having not caught up with them at the memorial service a few months prior.

There was Seamus, Dean and Neville by the kitchen, Butterbeers in hand, laughing at something Seamus had just said.

Beside them was Lavender, apparently her first big outing since the war. She was looking around very nervously at everyone, always touching her face, which was horribly scarred. Lavender, Ron had heard, had refused to come unless Parvati did, and Parvati had told Padma about it, who had invited her Ravenclaw buddies.

Neville had been invited, who was somehow in contact with the Hufflepuffs, so they'd all shown up, too. Then there was George and Percy, who'd brought Audrey along (who seemed very much at home being surrounded by a bunch of wizards and not at all put out by it), and even a few faces Ron didn't recognise.

"Remind me to put some damn good privacy charms around this place afterwards," Ron said to Harry, watching a tall, slightly older man skulk around the edge of the partiers.

Harry snorted into his half-drunk Butterbeer. "You'll need some Ministry-level ones after this."

"Well, at least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves." Ron scanned the crowd, unable to stop himself from smiling. It was good to see everyone again, even if most of them he'd spent seven years never speaking to. It reminded him of the old times.

"There you are!"

Ron spun to find Hermione striding towards him. She was very pink in the face, her hair — which she had attempted to slick back — had slipped in parts, the curls escaping the magic. But she was wearing a large smile as she flung her arms around Ron's neck and drew him into a deep kiss.

Her breath smelled of Firewhisky, and Ron suspected she may have helped herself to a few too many glasses of the potent drink that was being passed around freely.

He chuckled against her mouth, to which she pulled away, frowning. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," Ron said, stifling a grin. He looked over her shoulder to where Harry had been standing with him by the window, but discovered that his friend had snuck away and was now talking to Dean, probably about Auror training.

He looked back at Hermione, whose cheeks had turned from pink to red. Her hair had slipped out even more, and Merlin, she was beautiful, even in a drunken state.

"You're smiling," Hermione said, her frown deepening. "Do I amuse you?"

"Yes, a little," Ron said. "Found the Firewhisky, did you?"

"George was pouring everyone some glasses. I thought —"

Ron could no longer contain the laugh that had been desperate to escape ever since she'd kissed him in a manner that a sober Hermione never would have in the vicinity of so many people.

"You're drunk," he said.

"I'm not!"

"You are," Ron said. "And it's fantastic. Kiss me like that again. I liked it." He set aside his own drink, wrapping her in his arms, but she pulled away, looking up at him with an offended look.

Ron grinned, and he guided her over to where Harry and Dean were talking.

"... Ron, Neville and I are doing a lot of work with Patronuses at the moment," Harry was saying to Dean. "It's the second year of training. So don't worry too much. Neville didn't master the talking Patronus until a few weeks back."

The words seemed to ease Dean's concern. He nodded, waving to Ron and Hermione as they joined him. A moment later, Ginny came over too, clutching a Butterbeer. Everyone was going to wake up with headaches in the morning, Ron thought.

"Excited about your NEWT results?" Dean asked, looking between Hermione and Ginny. "I hear they'll be out soon…"

"Why do you think Hermione has had far too many Firewhiskies?" Ginny said, grinning.

"I'm not drunk!" Hermione said, though as she spoke, she somehow managed to stumble on her own feet and clutched Ron for support.

Ron, Harry and Ginny stifled laughs, while Dean looked at her, slightly taken aback.

"But now that you've reminded me… Dean, I think I might find George and see if he's got anymore…" And she pushed her way through the crowd towards Ron's brother.

Ron shook his head, watching her in amazement. He couldn't contain the grin on his face, as thoughts wandered into his head — thoughts that he had so desperately tried to push aside for the year and a bit he'd been with her, but ones that had always lingered, threatening to burst through at any moment.

If he could love her like this, drunk and stumbling her way through a party, then he could love her always. Forever. No matter what.

I want to marry her.

He refrained from laughing when she crashed into Ernie MacMillan.

"Excuse me?"

Ron turned away from Hermione, and back to the others. They were all staring at him, eyes wide. "What?" he asked, looking between their bewildered expressions.

"What do you mean, what?" Harry said. "'I want to marry her.' Explain yourself."

Ron opened his mouth, feeling heat creep up his neck and onto his ears. "I, er, I said that out loud, did I?"

"Yep," Harry, Ginny and Dean all said together.

Ron flushed. "Well, I don't mean now," he said. "I just mean… one day." He glanced over his shoulder again, where Hermione was talking to George and Lee, appearing much happier to be in their presence than she had ever been before.

"What a romantic," Ginny said, her voice reeking of sarcasm. "She gets drunk for the first time in her life, and you decide you want to marry her."

"Yeah, well, don't go telling her that," Ron said. "I don't want her thinking…"

"No need, mate," Harry said, who had had the clearest view of Hermione still across the room, apart from Ron. "Pretty sure she heard you."

"It's too noisy in here," Ron said. "She can't have."

Harry shrugged, and Ron once again looked over at Hermione. She cast Ron a bright smile, which he returned. She couldn't have heard him from all the way across there. He hoped not, at least. He didn't want her thinking he was planning anything so soon into their relationship.

"Who do you think will be the next to get married?" Ginny asked.

"Ron and Hermione," Harry said with a wry smile at Ron.

Ron went very red.

"Nah," Ginny said. She scanned the room. "Percy and Audrey look fairly cosy over there, don't they? And Audrey doesn't look at all bothered by the whole magic business. In fact, I think they're the perfect couple. She's as pompous as he is."

"What?" Ron said. "Audrey?" He followed his sister's gaze. He'd met Audrey a few times now, and not at all gotten that impression.

"Well, yes. Have you heard her rambling on about how her 'boyfriend leads a department' or 'her boyfriend did really well in his exams'. She'll tell anyone who'll listen. Doesn't matter that she doesn't understand half of what she's talking about. The fact that he's successful is what attracts her. He could have been You-Know-Who's right hand man and she'd be proud of the fact that he got promoted so highly."

Ron stared at Ginny for a moment, amazed that she seemed to find fault in all of her brothers' girlfriends. "So, what's wrong with Hermione then? Go on, tell me."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Well, you take issue with Fleur, and now Audrey, so what's wrong with Hermione?"

"Nothing," Ginny said. "And I never said I didn't like Audrey. Didn't I just say they're a perfect match? It'll be a competition between you and Percy, though. Who will be the first to grow a pair and ask their respective girlfriends to marry them?"

Ron opened his mouth to argue, to ensure anyone who would listen that he was not planning to do that anytime soon, but Harry jumped in before he had the chance.

"And what about me?" Harry asked, looking at Ginny with a rather amused expression.

"Oh, I know you've got a pair," Ginny said mildly. "And I know you'll use them when the time comes." She smiled to herself.

Ron balked at her, and Dean looked rather bemused at the casual exchange. Harry opened his mouth but didn't respond, apparently not expecting that response.

"Well, if you must know," Dean said, breaking the silence, "Seamus and Lavender are engaged." He indicated behind him to where Lavender stood beside Seamus, still looking rather terrified. She spotted everyone looking at her and turned away.

"You know, I think that's sweet," Ginny said. "The fact that he's stood by her after everything that happened. Good for them."

Ron had to agree with Ginny, but more on the fact that Seamus had stayed with Lavender, even after her attack. She'd always been alright looking, but now, a lot of her prettiness was covered with scars. There was barely a patch on her face that didn't have some kind of reminder of her injury.

Ron hated himself for thinking it, but if they'd still been together when she was attacked, he was fairly confident he would not have done the same. He drifted his eyes to Hermione, who was now speaking to Padma Patil. Although, if it had been Hermione who had been attacked… well, his feelings for her and his feelings for Lavender had always been very, very different. If it had been Hermione, he didn't think one thousand scars across her face could have changed the fact that he'd fallen helplessly in love with her.

He supposed that was how Seamus felt, too.

Ron left the small group, having just spotted Hermione heading toward the bathroom. She appeared rather unsteady.

"You alright?" he asked, catching her arm. She was very flushed in the cheeks now.

"Yep," Hermione said, beaming. "Perfectly fine. Perfectly happy. Great party, isn't it?"

And it was then Ron decided that even if she had heard what he'd said, she wasn't going to remember it anyway.

"It's not bad," Ron said, catching her as she swayed against him, "but maybe you should sit down. And no more Firewhisky for you, either. Since when do you like that stuff?" He guided her to the sofa, as two people Ron didn't know the names of hopped up before Hermione collapsed on top of them.

"I think I've failed all my NEWTs," Hermione said vaguely. "I'll be jobless, and… and NEWT-less —" she giggled in a very unHermione-like way. "NEWT-less…"

"Apparently that's why you drink," Ron said, sitting down beside her. He Summoned a glass of cool water and passed it to her. "I'll remember that for the future," he said as she took a deep drink from the glass.

When she'd finished it, she looked at Ron with a slightly more sober expression. She smiled. "You know what?"

"Yeah?" Ron said, his thoughts running away from him again as she stared at him with her astray hair and pink cheeks. I do want to marry her. One day. Merlin, I really do.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to look at Firewhisky again after tonight. My mouth is numb from it."

Ron grinned, and then laughed. "Yeah, well, you did drink an awful lot of it. And for the record, you're not going to fail your NEWTs. And also for the record, I will never let you forget this. You, drinking too much Firewhisky… I'll remember this forever."

Hermione scowled.

"I'll make sure you never forget it either," he added, drawing her towards him so that he could kiss her. He could taste the burn of the Firewhisky on her lips, and it had never tasted better.

…

Two days after the party, Ron woke to sunlight blaring through the drawn window. It was one thing he hated about this place — the sun rose far too early and glared right at him at some ungodly hour in which he was forced to get up.

It had been most unpleasant the day before, where he (and Hermione, which Ron was still laughing about) had been attempting to sleep off a horrible hangover. Hermione, more so than Ron.

She had felt dreadful when she'd woken, groaning as the humming of the crowd below grew noisier the later it got. Shops began opening around nine on Sundays, but that had been far too early for her. She hadn't even been able to get out of bed until Ron had gone to the apothecary and bought her a Pepper-Up potion, which she'd downed in one hit.

Ron had spent the day laughing at her every time she complained, which had resulted in her not speaking to him for most of the evening and night.

"Morning," Ron said as he yawned and rolled over to kiss Hermione, only to find her not there. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was a Monday, and he'd have to get to training in an hour or two, but she had nothing to do.

Curious as to what, apart from the glaring light, had dragged her out of bed so early, he stumbled from the room and into the tiny living space, finding her sitting at the little kitchen table.

"Morning," he said, coming over to kiss the top of her bushy head. "What's got you up so early?" But the answer was laying in front of him the moment he asked it. Sitting on the table in front of her, spread out, were five official envelopes, all addressed to Hermione, with the Ministry symbol in the corner.

Hermione was staring at them, white-faced, her hands clasped together in her lap.

"Oh," Ron said, "Your NEWT results have come."

Hermione didn't even look at him, but gave a short nod, her face very pale.

"Hermione," Ron said, "why haven't you opened them? You're not seriously worried that you've failed, are you?"

Hermione said nothing.

"If you'd failed, you wouldn't have these." He indicated the four thinner envelopes as he took the other seat at the table.

This time, Hermione looked up at him, looking terrified. "What are those other ones?" she whispered. "I was just expecting one, but then the owl also had these…"

Ron chuckled. "They're job offers, Hermione," he said.

"What?"

"Well, the Ministry is aware of everyone's results before you receive them, you see. They go through them and highlight who might be suited for particular jobs. The jobs aren't always at the Ministry, either. Then, they send you offers along with your results." He studied the envelopes for a moment, before smiling at her. "Four's impressive. Percy only got two."

This didn't seem to ease her nerves at all. If possible, she looked even paler.

"Oh, come on," Ron said, picking up the most formal of the five envelopes.

"You do it!" Hermione said. "I don't think I can bear it."

Shrugging, Ron tore open the results to Hermione's NEWTs, and for a moment, considered telling her she'd failed everything, but thought better of it when he saw how anxious she appeared.

"An Outstanding in every damned thing," he said, laying the parchment in front of her. "I could have told you that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I did." He beamed. "You are honestly the smartest person I know."

Relief flooded Hermione's face as she read through her results. Her face grew some colour back in it, and a smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"Now, let's see who wants the most brilliant witch to ever grace this world to work for them." Ron opened the first envelope and read it. He snorted.

"What?" Hermione asked, snatching the letter from him.

"You're not going to waste your talents working at the Menagerie," Ron told her. "That's actually insulting to send you that. I hope they're not all like that."

The next three were all Ministry offers — one in Magical Law, one in the Magical Creatures department and the third in the Magical Transportation department.

"Honestly, you'd be great in all of them," Ron said, "but I'd say no to the transportation one. Percy would be your boss."

"That wouldn't be so bad," Hermione reasoned. "He's a lot better now, and seeing a familiar face…"

She looked at the other two letters, her eyes darting between them. "Oh, there's so much to think about. I never saw myself in Law, and Magical Creatures would be of interest, but…"

"You don't have to decide now," Ron said, and he tapped the letters with his wand. They folded neatly into a pile.

"Where'd you learn that spell?" Hermione asked.

"Training," Ron said. "Well, kind of. Was more of a tip from one of the Aurors. Said it saved some time with the paperwork."

"You'll have to teach me it," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"Coffee?" Ron asked, waving his wand again to set the kettle on the stove and then a third time to light the stove.

"There's no water in there, Ron," Hermione said with amusement.

"Oh, right." He got up from his chair and filled the kettle with water.

"I wonder how Ginny and Luna went," Hermione said as Ron returned to the table. "Maybe I should Floo them and see —"

"Later," Ron said, grabbing her arm to keep her in her seat. "Let's have breakfast together. What do you want? Toast? I can make some eggs if you want."

"Toast is fine," Hermione said. "And I can make it." She got up and made her way over to the bench. She took out some bread.

"At the party the other night, Luna said she didn't think she'd take any job that resulted in a desk," Hermione said as she began to prepare the bread for toasting.

"Well, that's Luna, isn't it?" Ron said. "What do you think she'll do? Go searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?"

"Well… yes," Hermione said. "She mentioned something like that… honestly, that's very —"

"Luna," Ron said. "She'll never change." He grinned. "So, you remember that conversation, do you? I would have thought the whole night would have been a blank. It seemed to be yesterday."

"Well, things are coming back to me," Hermione said in a very matter-of-fact way. "In fact, I think I remember most of what was said to me, or… about me."

Ron froze. She had her back to him, but her voice had changed as she said the last part. He'd been quite comfortable in thinking that she hadn't heard a single word of his slip of the tongue that night. That, worst case scenario, she had been too far away. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain to her that he hadn't meant right now. Just one day.

"Right…" he said slowly. "Well… everyone was really drunk, so whatever you heard, you probably shouldn't take it seriously."

"So, you don't want to marry me, then?" Hermione turned around to face him, and to Ron's surprise, she was smiling.

"Of course I do!" Ron replied, and he could have kicked himself with how quickly he'd said it. His stupid brain couldn't even be bothered to pretend to hesitate on the matter. "But not right now!" he added hastily. Now that just sounded insulting. He grimaced.

Hermione didn't say anything, but continued to watch him with a smile on her face.

Ron sighed, realising he had no choice but to address it now. "Listen, Hermione… I didn't even realise I said it. It was a thought that popped into my head in the moment, and I accidentally spoke it out loud. I daresay the drinks loosened my tongue a little. I was hoping you hadn't heard."

"It was a nice thing to hear," Hermione said. "I liked hearing it."

Ron stared at her, rather taken aback by how easily she was taking this. He'd expected her to start listing all the reasons why they shouldn't rush into it, why they should wait. Her cheerful silence caught him off guard.

"You really want to get married to me?" Hermione said after a moment.

"Yes," Ron replied. "I do. Of course I do. If I get married, I want it to be to you. I love you. But… er… you don't mean now, do you? Because I'd like to be able to do it properly. You know, ask you... with a ring and everything, and I simply cannot afford to get you a nice one right now…" He flushed. Why did his mouth have to speak?

Hermione looked as if she was trying to fight back a laugh. "I don't mean now," she assured him. "Don't worry. But it's nice to know you're thinking about it. I'd like to marry you, too. One day."

"Oh… well, that's good to know," Ron said, not quite believing what he was hearing. Were they really talking about getting married?

"What else do you see in the future?" Hermione asked, retaking her seat and staring at him intently.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "Like, with us? Our future… together? Well…" He thought about it for but a second, and suddenly an extremely clear picture flashed into his mind. It was as if it had always been there, but suppressed, not daring to be thought until the timing was right. And now, apparently, was the right time. "I can see us in a house that we own together. Not this tiny flat forever. I see us getting married. I see us… maybe we'll have kids, too. One day. Two or three, or however many you want. Just not seven. I see us being pretty happy together, if you'll tolerate me for that long, and… well, I guess…"

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding as if he'd paused in the middle of an immensely captivating story.

"Er…" Ron looked away, unsure on whether he should continue or not. Just how far did she want him to go?

"I'm not going to freak out," Hermione said, as if reading his mind. "I promise."

Still not entirely convinced, Ron averted his eyes to the toast, which had begun smoking because Hermione had been distracted. Smiling slightly, he said, "Well, I guess I'll be taking care of the cooking if you can't even handle toast."

Hermione looked to where he was staring and jumped to her feet, swearing as she ran to get the now burnt toast. Muttering to herself, she tossed the toast in the bin and turned back to look at Ron, her eyes questioning.

"You really see us having children… and… and all that?"

Ron shrugged. "One day, I guess. If you want."

"I do want that," Hermione said quickly. "One day." She smiled.

"A long way away," Ron emphasised, for he could not picture himself with a child right now, or in the near future.

Hermione's smile widened, and she nodded. "Yes," she agreed, "many, many years away."

This is another of my personal favourite chapters hehe. Was a lot of fun to write and was fun to go over it again! A drunk Hermione is a fun Hermione.

I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you all for your kind reviews and encouragement. And I think it's time to give another shout out to my friend, Autumn, for her amazing beta skills.