Chapter 55

"Happy birthday, my love." Ron kissed Hermione's forehead as she stirred. He'd intentionally woken up early so he could surprise her with her birthday present. Or, the first of the six presents he'd decided to give her.

Hermione blinked, touching the place he'd kissed her. She lied there for a few more moments, before she lifted herself onto her elbows, smiling at Ron who was already dressed and ready for work.

He handed her a small, wrapped package, beaming at her.

"Happy birthday," he said again.

Sitting up fully and more awake now, Hermione accepted the gift, but she didn't open it straight away. She simply looked at Ron and smiled. "Thank you," she said.

"Open it," Ron said, still beaming. "I think you'll like it."

Hermione obliged, carefully opening the roughly wrapped present that he'd done five minutes ago. Inside was a box not unlike the one that had once contained her engagement ring.

She lifted the lid to reveal a plain silver bracelet with a single diamond teardrop pendant on it.

"You can wear it tonight," Ron told her before she could say anything more. "To the dinner I'm taking you out to."

Hermione still seemed a little sleep-riddled as she apparently tried to process Ron's enthusiasm over her birthday. She stared at the bracelet for a few moments, taking it out of its box to look at it some more. Then his words sunk in. "Dinner?"

"Yep," Ron said cheerfully. "Just you and me tonight. We are going out and we are going fancy because you deserve nothing less on your birthday."

She smiled, still playing with the small piece of jewellery in her hands. She wasn't one to wear stuff like that often, but he knew she owned a small collection for special occasions, and he knew her well enough now to know that she would like and wear that when the time was right.

"Thank you."

Ron grinned. "How does it feel to be another whole year older?"

"No different from yesterday." She yawned. Work had still been exhausting her, but at least now she was allowing herself to sleep in somewhat and was no longer showing up to work a whole hour before she was due to start. She was only showing up half an hour before, and Ron hoped to one day get her down to on time.

"Well, you'll have an amazing day today," Ron said. "I'm sure of it. I know it."

"Because everyone wants to work on their birthday, right?" she asked dryly.

"Aside from the fact that that's probably something you'd actually enjoy, I've ensured that today is going to be fantastic for you."

She frowned, and he saw the slight panic cross her features, which he'd expected once he hinted at his plans. She really hated her professional life crossing with her personal one, and usually Ron respected that. But today he was making sure she knew just how much he appreciated her — in all places.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked warily.

"You'll just have to wait and see." He smirked.

"Ron —"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to completely embarrass you in front of your colleagues," he assured her. "But they're going to know that you have a husband in another department who thinks the world of you. They know I exist, right?"

"Of course they do."

"Good."

"Ron, what are you planning?"

"Nothing that concerns you now." He kissed her forehead again. "But you'll appreciate it, don't worry." He kissed her mouth, to which she surprisingly responded to by drawing him closer to her.

When they broke apart, Ron feeling a little thrown by her response, but pleased nonetheless, he said, "I made breakfast for you. Do you want it here, or do you want to come downstairs? Or we could forget breakfast all together and just go straight to the other plans I had where we stay in bed. That's fine, too."

Hermione laughed. "What's for breakfast?"

"I made pancakes!" Ron said proudly. He offered his hand to help her out of bed, but rather than using it to pull herself up, she gripped it tightly.

"What?" he asked, noticing the sudden look of love in her eyes.

"It feels so good to be loved by you."

He beamed, feeling his heart constrict with love for her. "Likewise." He gave her another tug, and she finally pulled herself out of bed.

When they reached the kitchen downstairs, Hermione stopped, staring at the elaborate breakfast Ron had prepared while she slept. She stood in wonder for a long while, not saying or doing anything. Then she looked up at him. "What's with the sudden effort for my birthday?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, guiding her to the table. "I acknowledge all of your birthdays."

"Not like this." She sat down at the table upon Ron's insistence.

"Well, you don't turn twenty-three every day, do you?" Ron said. He sat on the other side of the table and began filling her plate with pancakes.

Hermione looked at him, questioning.

At first, he wasn't going to respond — he was going to let her wonder. But then he realised this was Hermione he was talking to and if he didn't give her an explanation now, then she'd pester him until he did. And that would ruin the day he had planned.

"I just feel happy," he said with a shrug. "I mean... extra happy. I finally got to marry you this year after waiting for what felt like ages to do it. We have a house together which I hope we stay in forever — the place we grow old, where we see our kids grow up. This is kind of just the start, isn't it? The first year of the rest of our lives. I like being your husband. You make me so, so happy. I want to show you that."

Hermione smiled and looked down at her plate of food. "Well," she said, "so far, this has been my favourite birthday I've ever had. I'm lucky to have the most loving husband. So, thank you."

…

"Got anything planned for Hermione's birthday?" Harry asked.

They were walking back to the Auror Office from the weekly briefing by Robards, who preferred it to be in his personal office. It wasn't too far but long enough for a quick catch up before they had to get stuck into their work.

"Lots," Ron said. "In fact, her second present should have landed on her desk by now."

"Her second present?" Harry asked, opening the door to the office. "Just how many are you planning for her?"

"Six!" Ron went to his desk, but before he sat down, he noticed a memo that wasn't a Ministry one sitting there. "To celebrate all our years together so far, plus some extras, because… I felt like it."

Harry looked revolted as Ron picked it up, reading the short note.

Thank you! The words were followed by a small picture of a heart — a very un-Hermione-like thing to do, especially at work.

He beamed as Harry came to read the note over his shoulder. "What did you give her?"

"A box of personalised chocolates ordered from Honeydukes."

"For Hermione?" Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron sat the memo back on his desk and pulled his chair out to sit down himself.

"I'm determined to actually make her enjoy her birthday with things she wouldn't usually do," Ron explained. "You've seen her. She's really stressed by everything at work at the moment. I want her to enjoy at least one day."

Harry was silent for a moment, thinking. "She's not enjoying it anymore?"

Ron shrugged. "She says she is, but that she's a little stressed by it. She's really slowed down lately. Actually relaxing on the weekends and ignoring memos or work in favour of sleep. Which is good, because it's what I want her to do, but… I don't know." He shrugged. "I keep asking, she's insisting she's fine, so what can I do?"

"Allow her to have a great birthday?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"I'm trying."

"Well, Ginny and I got her something. Are you free tonight or should we hold off until tomorrow to see you guys?"

"We're having dinner tonight," Ron said. "Just the two of us. Tomorrow night is with her parents, but Saturday should be good."

"It's like we never get to see our friends anymore," Harry complained, though he smiled. "I'm not sure how I feel about you two being married and all. All this alone time you need…"

Ron laughed. "Annoying, isn't it. Saturday good? Is Ginny home?"

"Saturday's fine," Harry replied. "She is."

"Great. I haven't seen my sister in months."

The rest of the morning went by fairly slowly. Ron kept glancing at his watch. He'd timed her next present to arrive at midday, and he was just waiting to hear what she thought of it. He doubted she'd appreciate this one as much as the chocolates. In fact, he expected her to just about murder him for embarrassing her, but he was looking forward to that. Because he knew she'd secretly appreciate it even if she didn't want to admit it.

Sure enough, around one o'clock, Hermione came storming into their office. Her robes brushed past Harry's desk as she made a beeline for Ron, knocking some of Harry's things flying.

"Got it?" Ron asked with a grin. "Happy birthday!"

As Harry used his wand to return everything to his desk, he watched Hermione warily, apparently sensing her on-edge emotions.

Ron just continued to beam at her as she glared down at him, admiring the way her hair fell across her face, how her cheeks were tinged rather pink, and how she seemed to be torn between wanting to kill him where he sat and wanting to kiss him.

His smile grew. She had liked it.

"I'm getting the worst looks in the office," she said.

"Good," Ron told her.

"Could you not have… toned it down a little?"

"Never," Ron said. "I told you, I want you to feel appreciated today."

"The office thinks I'm mad."

"Good. They'll leave you alone for once."

Her lip quivered, threatening the smile she really didn't want to give him.

"You're welcome," Ron continued. "I love you. Enjoy all five hundred of them."

"Five… hundred?" Hermione asked, and she flushed. "There's not —"

"There is," Ron said. He stood up and kissed her across his desk. She didn't pull away, but simply stared in… awe, maybe.

He kissed her again, and she kissed him back, albeit it wasn't obvious in front of so many people. Then she left, looking shocked.

"That went down well then, didn't it?" Harry said, amused.

"She loved it," Ron said, grinning.

"It looked like it."

"She did. She was trying to hide it, but she did."

"What did you do?"

"Sent five hundred roses into her office."

Harry stared for a moment, appearing mildly revolted by the image. Then, "She's going to kill you when you get home."

"She's my wife and I love her. What's a better way to show her that? I'm allowed to do nice things for her on her birthday." He smiled to himself and sat back down behind his desk.

He could feel Harry's eyes on him for a few moments longer before his friend finally shook his head and returned to his work.

Ron couldn't help but smile again. Hermione really had appreciated it, even if it had embarrassed her at the same time. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have kissed him back while at work. That was how much she appreciated it.

…

"Ron, you really shouldn't —"

"I told you, Hermione. There's six gifts and this is the fifth one. You're worth it all, because you're amazing and I like doing it for you."

Flushing pink, Hermione accepted the fifth gift for her birthday — the one Ron had planned right before their dinner date. She really wasn't accustomed to such treatment, mostly because Ron had never done something like this in the past. He usually just got her one present, and they would celebrate with her parents with a nice dinner out in the evening. But he'd talked them into celebrating a day late this year — not because he thought it would be more special without them, but because he just really wanted to do this for her. They had had so much fun in France, been so in love, and he'd wanted to keep that alive. Life got out of control sometimes and he was determined to sometimes remind both of them that they could still have fun.

This gift was another small package, after the more romantic ones appearing on her desk at intervals throughout the day. After the roses, there had been a birthday card which played music (something which she had admonished, yet thanked, him for when she got home). She'd enjoyed the gifts; it had brightened a relatively bleak day for her, she'd told him.

Hermione slowly opened the fifth present, holding a small, pink bottle in her hand. "Perfume?" she asked.

Ron nodded. "You can also wear that tonight — if you want, I mean. You don't have to."

She smiled at him, spraying a bit of it in front of her to smell it. "It's better than the last time you got me perfume."

Ron went slightly red at her reminder of his gift to her back in fifth year. "That was… through owl order. I never got to smell it myself. Plus, I was fifteen. I know better now." He touched her wrist, where she already had the bracelet on. She was wearing a deep purple dress that flowed just below her knees and her hair was slicked back into a half up, half down type style.

"I love you," he said to her, smiling. "You look great. Beautiful. Incredible. I'm so in love with you."

"Where are we going, exactly?" she asked him, leaning forward to kiss him gently.

"I told you, it's a surprise."

"And you said there's six presents, but this is the fifth…" She looked worried, more than curious. Like she expected the last one to completely and utterly embarrass her in public.

"I'll give it to you when we get there," Ron assured her, returning her kiss. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Just have to put the perfume on."

...

Ron Disapparated her into an alley on the outskirts of Falmouth. He'd found a nice place to take her a few weeks back — recommended by Bill — but without the hustle and bustle of London. It was wizarding, which meant organising it had been a little easier for him — though, he was quite apt at using a telephone these days.

Upon entering, Hermione's eyes widened, which was saying something considering she was used to these types of places with her parents.

"I've heard of this place," she said, beaming at Ron. "I've always been curious…"

"Well, now you can indulge," Ron told her, giving her hand a squeeze. "And your final gift is…" He indicated a small private setting where the room jutted out over the water.

Hermione smiled at the sight. "It's beautiful."

"Just like you." Ron guided her over to the table. They were completely isolated from the rest of the place. He'd wanted to do this the moment Bill had told him it was an option. It had felt like the perfect end to her birthday.

The room was elaborately decorated with fire lights floating on the ceiling, a white tablecloth on the table for two and fancy cutlery that his family would never have been able to own. Some eyes flickered towards them, perhaps recognising Hermione whose face had appeared in the Prophet on and off over the last several months, but they didn't linger for long.

"You did this?" Hermione asked, eyes turning to him.

"Well, the people who work here did it," Ron said. "I just organised it. Sit. And get whatever you want."

Hermione obliged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. Ron pulled out the opposite one, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was enjoying this already and it pleased him. She deserved every bit of love in the world and he was glad he was the one who could give it to her.

Once they were settled, he reached across the table and took her hands. "So, you've had a good birthday?"

"It's been wonderful," Hermione said. "I admit that I was a little worried when you wouldn't tell me what you were planning, but everything was so… thank you, Ron. I got told many times today how wonderful you were. I appreciated it."

"My pleasure," Ron said. "That was the plan. I mean… not being called wonderful, but you appreciating it."

She smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Ron gave her hands another squeeze and then pulled away, picking up the menu that had just appeared in front of him. "I mean it when I say get whatever you want. It's your birthday so there's no limit, alright?"

"Understood," Hermione said, picking up her own menu. "With that freedom, I could order everything on here."

Ron shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"I'd never get through it."

Ron chuckled, scanning the menu. "I'd love to see you try." He looked up and watched her for a moment as she studied the menu, deciding what she wanted. She was smiling, and it was nice to see, because he realised that he'd not seen her smile that much recently. Not because he didn't think she wasn't happy, but because she was finding balancing everything overwhelming — a stressful job, maintaining her promise of being home on time most nights, and just the general struggles of day to day life. It was a lot for her to take in.

They picked their choices from the menu by using their wands and as they waited for it to arrive, Hermione relayed to Ron in greater detail just what had happened when the gifts arrived — the flowers in particular.

"They just… appeared," she said in an awed tone. "Bunch by bunch —"

"I know."

"Were there really five hundred?"

"That's what I asked for."

"The whole office smelled of roses for the rest of the day. It lifted everyone's mood, really. They were beautiful, really."

It was hard for Ron to wipe the smile from his face.

The food was some of the best Ron had ever eaten — and that was saying something considering he'd grown up with his mother's cooking and attended Hogwarts for six years.

Despite him telling Hermione to get whatever she wanted, she'd chosen only enough to fill her. It appeared on the table after half an hour of waiting, to which point Ron was famished.

"This is so stunning," Hermione said, looking out the window. "And…" She looked around the room, where it was just the two of them. "It's so romantic, too. I'm glad you picked this spot, Ron."

"Yeah, me too."

Their plates vanished after they'd finished and Ron reached across the table to take her hands once more. "You want dessert?" he asked.

She laughed quietly. "I don't think I could eat anything else tonight. It was so delicious, though…" They looked at each other for a moment — just looking — and Ron was momentarily taken back to the beginning days of their relationship where he'd had all these emotions running through him, where he was finally able to express his feelings for her without any fear of consequences, rejection. It had been chaotic then, feeling so many uncontrollable things that had made him feel so good.

The way his heart had thrumped in his chest at different speeds, the strong feelings of love and admiration and how he'd known, even then, that she was the one he wanted to spend forever with.

He was feeling all those feelings again — the intense, uncontrollable love, the desperate desire to be near her, to let her know he loved her — in this moment.

He just wanted her and only her.

Forever.

And he told her as such.

Her face filled with colour at his words — not out of embarrassment, but affection. She looked moments away from throwing herself across the table at him.

He laughed at the thought.

"Maybe we should go if you don't want dessert?" he suggested.

Hermione turned her gaze back to the window again.

"Why don't we go for a walk down by the water?" she suggested. "We hardly ever get this chance."

Ron shrugged and stood up, dragging her up by the hand. "Whatever you want," he said softly.

Ron paid for the meals — which were far more expensive than any food needed to be — and they left the restaurant, making their way down to the water. It was a steep, rocky descent to the water's edge, but considering they were in an all wizarding section of Falmouth, they lit their wands and cast cushioning charms just in case.

They reached a thin, sandy strip where the water was softly lapping at their feet.

Ron smiled, staring down at it. "What was your favourite present?" he asked as Hermione slipped her hand in his. They started walking along the edge, allowing their shoes to get wet.

"I liked them all," Hermione said.

"And if you had to pick one?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then said, "You, I suppose."

Ron laughed. "I'm not an option. I'm always here, no matter what. I think you liked the roses."

"They were beautiful," Hermione agreed. "But five hundred was a lot."

"So, what was it, then?" Ron said. He stopped walking and faced her.

She was smiling. She was happy, she was relaxed. "I think the last one."

"The dinner?"

She nodded.

"Good."

Ron thought they were going to start walking again, but instead she stepped forward, weaving her arms around his neck and kissing him. Long and deep and passionate.

He moved his hands to her waist, drawing her even nearer. He revelled in the taste of her — everything about her was beautiful. His heart beat so quickly in his chest, it was like experiencing their first kiss all over again, but even better.

She pulled away slowly, keeping her arms around him. He gripped her tightly — partly because he wanted her close, but mostly because he was rather breathless and needed to steady himself.

Her eyes glowed under the moonlight and subconsciously, because he had become an expert at reading that look in her eyes, he dragged one of her dress straps down her arm.

She pulled away and her whole face became illuminated.

"Let's go," she said softly, offering her hand.

He nodded, but didn't speak. He suddenly couldn't, as enraptured by her as he was.

Before they Disapparated, he took in the water again, smelling the salt, hearing its gentle ebb and flow. But then they landed in their living room, and all of that was forgotten.

It was just them now — her — and he was completely consumed by her and the love he knew they had for each other.

One of my favourite chapters, because I enjoyed writing the fluff. I hope you all enjoyed too!