Chapter 58

It was the fanciest and most pointless spellwork Ron had ever had to perform, but it was also the one that made him feel the most pleased with himself.

In the weeks leading up to his first wedding anniversary, he'd been practicing conjuring and assembling an arrangement of flowers into a bouquet that he could give to Hermione. He'd had to do it in secret so he could surprise her with the real deal, and finally he'd managed to get it looking exactly how he wanted it to.

He wasn't sure on the exact names of the flowers, but they'd appeared in an assortment of colours and styles that he thought looked nice.

He grinned.

One year.

It was crazy how quickly their first year of marriage had gone. This time last year, he remembered waking up with a giant knot in his stomach and questioning whether he was worthy of even marrying Hermione, wondering if he was holding her back from doing everything that she wanted to do. And then he remembered Harry telling him to pull his head in, that Hermione loved him and wanted to marry him, and they had so many moments to look forward to once married.

Moments like today.

One year.

What a year it had been. From their honeymoon, to Hermione changing jobs, to everything else that had happened. It had been eventful, but amazing, and one year on, Ron felt incredibly in love and happy and pleased that they were here.

Even now, it sometimes surprised him that this was where his life had taken him. So normal after a tumultuous and dangerous education in a place that was supposed to be safer than any other. He and Hermione could easily have been dead and not here, in their house, celebrating their relationship.

That was the most amazing part.

Still smiling, Ron picked up the bouquet that even had a white ribbon tied around it, and left their room. They'd both taken the day off work to spend it with each other. Hermione had apparently organised something that she refused to tell him about, and Ron had gotten her flowers.

As he thought he might, he found Hermione in the kitchen. But she wasn't making her breakfast. She had gone beyond that. Spread out on the kitchen table was a selection of food, from bacon, eggs, sausages, toast…

When she saw him, she smiled, setting down a plate of something else on the bench, and came over to kiss him. "Good to finally see you down here," she said, her arms slinking around his neck and drawing him into a long, deep kiss.

"I was doing these," Ron said when she let him pull away. He passed her the bouquet. "Made them myself. Pure magic."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said affectionately, accepting the flowers. "They are beautiful. You did this?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Ron said, grinning at her. "I can do magic like that."

"I'm not surprised, I'm awed at your never-ending ability to be incredibly romantic." She moved to the kitchen to find a vase and filled it with water.

Ron moved to the table where all the food was. It was a late morning for him, and he was kind of hungry. "And you did this? I didn't realise I was upstairs that long."

Placing the vase on the windowsill overlooking the garden, Hermione came back to join him. "Long enough to cook all the food."

Ron looked at it for a moment, then back at her. He smiled. "I love you so damn much, Hermione. I love being married to you."

"I love being married to you, too," Hermione replied. "One whole year. It's gone so quick."

"I hope I've made you happy," Ron said, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him. "As happy as you've made me."

"So incredibly happy." Hermione kissed him again, pressing her whole body against his. Ron sighed at her closeness. Hermione's new job had stolen her away from moments like this in past weeks. There had been many mornings that had consisted of them quickly kissing each other goodbye and then not seeing each other again until dinner time.

Such was their life, Ron was beginning to realise.

He felt her try to pull away, but he gripped her tightly, savouring her lips on his.

"Ron," Hermione laughed against him.

"What?" Ron asked.

She smiled up at him. "I need to breathe."

"Oh."

"There's plenty of time for that later, but don't you want to eat? I'm trying to make this day for you."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, finally letting her go. "It's our day."

"I mean... I want today to be a repayment for all those times you've done something for me. All the times I've kind of just accepted it without doing anything in return for you. You're a romantic, I'm… not so much. But I'm going to try, at least."

"You're a romantic," Ron said. "You're very romantic. You like to cuddle a lot. You like to kiss a lot. You exist. I like that."

Hermione gave a small smile, though it looked as if she didn't quite believe him. She'd always struggled a little with what she seemed to think was her lack of ability to do the things Ron did for her. No matter how many times he tried to assure her that he really didn't care and that he loved her just the way she was, she always seemed to feel guilty whenever he randomly came home with a small gift for her or was the one to ask her out on a date.

It just never occurred to me, she'd say. Is that bad?

The answer was always no. It wasn't bad. Ron knew she loved him just as much as he loved her. She showed that in her own way all the time. Those things he did — they were his way. Her way was letting him be the only one on the planet she actually listened to when he said she needed to take a step back and breathe, or putting important paperwork away when he asked her to do something with him. He absolutely loved her the way she was and sometimes she didn't seem to realise that.

"You're amazing," Ron assured her, sitting down at the table. "You're truly amazing."

"I suppose I can be," Hermione said, joining him.

"You are," Ron corrected, "and I just love you so much. Every day I wake up and think just how lucky I am to get the chance to spend another day with you — even if we hardly see each other sometimes."

Hermione's mouth twitched slightly. "Even when I come home in a mess over something?"

"That's when I love you the most."

"That's when I need you the most," Hermione said, and she looked down at the food that neither of them had yet touched. "You're, I think, the one person who knows when I'm pushing myself too hard — even I don't realise it. And you know exactly how to take all that stress away when no one else does." She laughed to herself. "I've learnt to listen to you when you tell me to relax."

"That's what husbands are for, right?" Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. "Not all. Maybe only the best husbands."

"Ha!" Ron said. "I wouldn't call myself the best."

"I would," Hermione replied. "And I'd mean it. You're at least the best for me, and that's all that matters."

Ron watched her for a moment, not knowing how to respond. There was something in her expression that moved him. Something tender, loving — like she meant it. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

He reached across the table, his arm unintentionally resting in the food, and took her hand. He squeezed it. "Well, if I am the best, it's only because you make me. You're the love of my life and you make me so damn happy all of the time. Happy anniversary. I hope this is just the first of many."

"Me too," Hermione said, squeezing his hand back. "I hope we can be like this when we're one hundred."

…

Gone were the days where Hermione got a little bit adventurous on their dates. Ron still remembered the times they'd gone out and she'd kissed him against walls in alleys, or when she'd not resisted him kissing her in an empty Hogwarts classroom, or even that one time — the night before their wedding — where she'd even gone as far as to instigate the only time they'd ever had sex in a public place.

These days, things were a little more subtle, like holding hands across tables or walking hand-in-hand through the city.

She wasn't completely against kissing in alleys, nor was she opposed to sex, but apparently now that she was Head of an important office at the Ministry of Magic, she seemed to think that doing any of that in public was off limits. What if someone saw them? What if it got in the paper? She was enjoying her new job too much to risk losing it over a moment of weakness for her husband.

But apparently their anniversary was an exception. Mostly because they were alone and it was near impossible that anyone would stumble upon them if they decided to do anything that would offend onlookers.

She'd taken them to their favourite spot — the lake that they had been to so many times now. The place that they'd only told their friends about, never given away its exact location. To be honest, Ron wasn't even sure he knew of its exact location. He just knew how to get there.

This was the place they'd started to repair their relationship at when it seemed it was momentarily falling apart. This was the place he'd planned to ask her to marry him if he'd not done it on the floor of their bedroom instead. In between those big moments, sometimes they just came out here to do exactly what they were doing now — lying in the long grass, the ebb and flow of the water tickling at their bare feet.

He should have guessed this was where they would end up. It was the best place aside from their home.

"You know," Ron said, sitting up on the picnic rug. He'd spent the past however many minutes completely lost in Hermione, but even he needed a few moments to breathe every once in a while. "I once thought that maybe we could live out here." He waited for her to also sit up and placed an arm around her.

"Here?" Hermione asked, turning her head to look around at the grass that grew up to two feet in some places.

Ron nodded. "I thought it would be nice to build a house right by the water. There's enough room for a huge house — could have the Quidditch pitch I still haven't put up at our place, also. And I always thought that it would be the perfect spot for our future children to grow up, whenever we had them."

Hermione gave him a strange look. "You never said anything to me."

Ron shook his head. "That's because in the end, I decided I liked this being our special place that no one else knew about. If we lived here, then everyone would know about it." He shrugged. "And… promise you won't laugh?"

"I can't make any promises," Hermione said. "You say some pretty funny things sometimes."

"This is more stupid," Ron said.

"I won't laugh," Hermione promised, the corners of her mouth turning upwards.

He looked at her, feeling his face go a touch red before he even got the words out. "I kind of enjoy living where we do."

"What's funny about that?" Hermione said, frowning all of a sudden. "I like it, too."

"Yeah, but I mean… it's more normal for you, the lifestyle we lead. You're familiar with it. I've had to learn and I like the fact that we live a life that is a mix of magic and Muggle. I like all the things Muggles have, and I like all the things magic has, too. I like televisions, and our neighbours, and I really like your parents. I like the Muggle city of Nottingham, but I like that we can travel to places that are essentially undiscovered and private like this one, and how we can get to London in a few seconds. I don't think I could ever go back to living a full wizard life anymore. I've become too comfortable in what we have, and the house we have, and just how effective Muggles can be when they don't have magic."

Hermione did laugh, but it was a small chuckle that she tried to suppress.

Ron gave her a you promised look.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, "but that's just so sweet. You're incredibly sweet." She kissed him lightly on the lips.

"That's me," Ron said, shifting his body and placing his arm around her waist now. "Sweet. I'd rather be amazing, incredible, awesome one day, you know?"

"You're all those things, too," Hermione assured him, her tone taking on humour.

They sat in silence for a moment, Hermione picking at a thread on the picnic rug, then decided she didn't like it, so she used her wand to put it back in its place.

Ron watched the water for a moment, absently taking her left hand in his free one. His thumb traced the two rings that sat on her finger, touching one another. She'd worn them proudly since he'd given them to her, never taking them off.

He looked down at the engagement ring, the three diamonds sparkling slightly under the cloudy sky. He smiled to himself. Maybe it was about time he came clean.

"Promise you won't get mad," he said to Hermione.

"Nothing ever good comes from that sentence, Ron," Hermione replied.

Ron smiled again, still looking at the ring. "Alright, at least promise you won't yell at me."

Hermione didn't respond at all, so Ron took that to mean she'd at least try.

"This ring," he said. "It didn't cost me one hundred and fifty Galleons."

There was silence for a moment. Ron still had her hand in his, and she just sat there, now also looking at it. Eventually, she said, "Ron, the cost doesn't matter. It's the fact that it's from you that —"

"It cost five hundred."

"RON."

"You just said the cost doesn't matter," Ron said quickly.

"Yes, but that's because I thought you meant —"

"You thought I'd bought you something cheap and tried to pass it off as something more expensive," Ron said, and he looked up at her, grinning. She turned pink. "I'd never. You're worth every Sickle I spent on that."

When she didn't say anything in response, but kept her eyes fixed on the rings, Ron added, "I don't regret it at all. The only thing I do regret is that I wasn't able to give it to you sooner."

Until now, he'd never found the right time to tell her about the ring. He'd never lied to her as such — he'd just never said that those one hundred and fifty Galleons she discovered missing from the account was not the only money he'd spent on it. He knew she'd be furious with him if she ever found out how much he'd actually spent, and he'd been slightly afraid to tell her.

"Well," Hermione said after another moment, "I still stand by the fact that the cost doesn't matter… but, please tell me, Ron… how did you find the money for that…"

Ron smiled. "Small payments weekly, for almost a year before Harry convinced me to just get it and ask you. I told you I'd been wanting to ask you for a year before I did. You just assumed I was too afraid, when truthfully, I just didn't have everything I needed to do it."

Again, Hermione turned slightly red at what he knew to be the truth. He'd told her he'd planned to ask her after Percy and Audrey's engagement party, and she'd just made the assumption that he hadn't because he was too scared to do it and her accusing him of smuggling money out of their account was what had urged him into action.

"I was never afraid to ask you, Hermione. I just wanted to do it right. And I couldn't afford it upfront."

"Ron —"

"I never told you because it didn't matter in the end. We're here, aren't we? We got married, we're planning on spending the rest of our lives together. Who cares that I did it later than I wanted? We still got to spend that year together, and we got the house in that year, and everything like that. We still got what we wanted."

Hermione was on him before he'd barely gotten the final word out. For one brief terrifying moment, he thought she was going to throttle him, but it seemed she'd decided to suffocate him in a much more pleasant way.

She kissed him hard, forcing her whole weight against him. Ron's arms grabbed her around the waist, pulling her on top of him and they collapsed onto the blanket, the water still splashing at their feet.

That was how they stayed for some time. Ron didn't even know how long. He didn't care. It could have been five minutes or five hours, but whatever time it was, he savoured every moment of it and lost himself in her once more.

The thing that finally broke them apart was the splattering of rain drops that began to fall, the intensity of it increasing by the second. And even then, it wasn't until their clothes were almost soaked through did they actually bother to separate.

Her body still on his, Hermione looked him in the eyes. Her cheeks were red and flustered and her hair now stuck to her face, and her voice was soft and weak. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he said. "Please don't move. It's just a little rain." As he said it, there was a distant rumble of thunder.

She smiled, but despite his request, pulled herself back into sitting.

The rain fell freely on Ron's face and it wasn't as pleasant now that Hermione wasn't with him. He groaned, also sitting again. The rain grew heavier.

"Maybe we should finish this at home?" Hermione asked.

"I like that you said 'finish'," Ron said, "because you can't kiss me like that and then stop."

Hermione stood and attempted to pull Ron up with her. The tide in the lake was increasing with the rain, the water now halfway up their legs rather than just on their feet.

"Thanks for today," Ron said. "My favourite day with you… maybe except for the day I married you, of course."

The sky lit up, and somewhere far in the distance was another thunderclap. Hermione rolled the picnic rug and shrunk the food basket with her wand, and the moment she was finished, Ron grabbed her hand and Disapparated them directly into their living room.

It wasn't until they were in the warmth of their house did Ron realise just how soaked they were, water dripping from their clothes onto the carpet.

"Oh —" Hermione began, but Ron didn't let her finish. He kissed her.

"Simple fix," he said, dropping his hands from her face. "We take our clothes off."

He thought she might have admonished him for such a bold statement, but then he remembered they were at home and Hermione was an entirely different person when in the safety of their house.

He brushed her drenched hair behind her shoulders and kissed her again, his hands playing with her wet clothes that were firmly stuck to her body.

"You know," Hermione said against his mouth, apparently not at all against what he was doing, "if every anniversary is like this one, then I've got a lot to look forward to — being married to you."

Ron kissed her for a third time, but chose not to respond. Sometimes, words were not needed, and sometimes Hermione talked far too much.

More fluff! Sorry for anyone who was hoping for angst lol. There'll be time for angst in future chapters, I promise, but an anniversary is not the time. Not their first one, anyway. I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for the reviews!