''Mione?' At the sound of his tentative voice, she turned slowly and leaned back against the railings of the balcony. He stood in the middle of the hotel room, watching her cautiously through the open French doors. 'You OK, Love?'
She sighed. The honest answer was no. No, she wasn't OK. She was tired and emotionally drained and homesick. She desperately wanted to take a long, hot bath, but the heat here would make it very uncomfortable, and she knew that it wouldn't do what she wanted it to right now anyway.
She heard him move, and blinked, surprised to find him suddenly so close. She'd been so lost in her brooding that she hadn't even noticed. He was looking down at her, his clear blue eyes also showing exhaustion, but there was a large amount of concern there as well as he scanned over her face.
'I'm fine, Ron,' she murmured, and turned her head away from him, to look over the edge of the balcony towards the sea. But he slid one of his hands along her jaw and turned her back again to look up at him.
'Please don't hide from me,' he said, and the softness in his tone broke her. Her view of his worried face went fuzzy as tears filled her eyes, and before she knew it she was pressed to his chest, sobbing freely as his arms encircled her, holding her close.
It had been a very difficult week. They had finally decided that it was time for Hermione to go to Australia, to find her parents and restore their memories. Hermione had known that she was putting the trip off, always finding convenient excuses. She needed to finish her schooling first; she needed to get established with living in Grimmauld Place first; she needed to get through the first six months of her new Ministry job first.
And then all at once, it had been a full two years since she'd wiped her parents' memories. She still didn't really understand how the time had gone by so quickly, and she was laden with guilt that it had taken so long for her to approach Kingsley and request his help in finding her parents. Of course, the Minister had immediately contacted the Australian Ministry to pull them in on helping, and within mere days they had tracked her parents down.
They were living happy, quiet, normal lives, their minds easily following the narrative she'd carefully planted there - that they had chosen to emigrate for the warmer weather. They had set up a small dentistry practice in their local town, and had become ingrained in their community. Hermione had debated with herself for weeks about whether she should return their memories, or if she should leave them as they were.
It was Ron who had convinced her. He'd watched her turmoil, had listened to her go over the same list of pros and cons countless times, and he'd been so very patient with her the whole time that she'd fallen impossibly deeper in love with him than she already was. But one night, he'd stopped her pacing and made her sit while he gently reminded her of the things she'd told him about her childhood, and his prompt to consider whether she would be happy without her parents for the rest of her life had made up her mind.
They'd flown to Australia together the next week. She'd asked Ron to go with her, and he'd accepted immediately. Kingsley had given him permission to take leave from his Auror training schedule for as long as they needed, which had set Hermione's mind at ease. When they had landed in Australia, a Ministry representative had collected them from the airport and taken them to their hotel, and from their room they'd begun the painstaking process of planning the reversal of Hermione's spell.
She'd had to recall every single detail of what she'd done and how she'd done it, and had had to repeat this several times so that the counter-spell could be performed correctly. She'd gone over and over plans about how they would persuade her parents to let them into their home. Hermione had been adamant about not using magic for this, and when the Ministry officials had protested, Ron had added his voice to side with her, and they'd had to acquiesce.
So they'd gone in under the pretext of wanting to discuss developments in the community, and as she'd known they would, Hermione's parents had welcomed her, Ron and one other Ministry representative into their home. Her stomach had lurched at how similarly decorated it was to their home in London, but she'd made herself focus as she'd sat down in front of them and finally looked at them properly for the first time in two years.
They were just how she remembered them: warm, welcoming, easy smiles and gentle laughter. Her heart had nearly broken and she'd almost lost it, but Ron had held her gaze over their heads from where he stood behind them, and he'd given her the strength to hold it together. The plan - which was to have Hermione sit in front of them while Ron and the Ministry wizard performed the spell - had gone smoothly, and she'd watched the light of recognition slowly return to her parents' eyes.
The spell had been the easy part. After they had gathered Hermione to them, and they had all cried, her parents had then come to understand that they belonged to a community now that didn't really know them, not truly. But they loved their new lives here, and didn't know what to do. They'd also been honest about their hurt and confusion about Hermione using magic on them, and there had since been many lengthy discussions and explanations about the war and the need to keep them safe.
She and Ron both had visited her parents every day for the last four days to try and explain what had happened, with an agreed policy for honesty at all times. There had been tears and disagreements, and Ron had very nearly lost his temper when Hermione's dad had told her in a fit of anger that it was selfish of her to have sent them away without talking to them first, but Hermione had accepted it, knowing that it was part of the processing of emotions that they were all going through.
Finally, today, her parents had decided that they would like to return to England, but that they needed time to arrange their affairs in Australia. Hermione had been delighted and saddened - they obviously loved their lives here, but the whole point of this process had been to bring her parents home, after all. She and Ron had returned to their hotel room with the knowledge that they'd be returning home without her parents, but that they'd be following behind when they could.
Hermione sighed into Ron's chest and her tears slowed as this realisation settled into her again. Home. They would all be going home. A gentle nudge of fingertips under her chin made her tilt her head back to look up at him, and his creased brow smoothed slightly as she offered him a watery smile.
'You're amazing,' he murmured, then gripped her chin when she tried to bury her face again. 'You are, 'Mione. You've been so bloody brave and strong this week. I'm so proud of you.'
'You shouldn't be,' she muttered, cringing as his words ignited her guilt again. More hot tears sprang to her eyes as she whispered, 'We wouldn't even be in this mess if it weren't for me.'
'You did what you thought was best to keep them safe,' Ron said soothingly, his hands raising to cup her cheeks gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears as they fell. 'None of us really believed that we were coming out of that war. If I'd been in your position, and if I was even a fraction as smart as you are, I would have done the exact same thing.'
'Really?' Hermione hiccuped as she stared up at him. She knew she must look such a mess right now, but Ron was staring down at her as though she was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing he'd ever seen, and she felt herself melting, letting herself lean into his body, letting him hold her up.
'Really,' he murmured, dipping his head to brush a tender kiss over her lips. And maybe it was something in the way his touch always sparked something inside her, maybe it was the sheer emotional upheaval of this past week, maybe it was the relief of knowing that it was over. But something made her chase his kiss, pushing her to stand on her tiptoes and press her mouth more firmly to his as he tried to pull away.
''Mione,' he murmured against her lips before he broke away with a slight groan as she reached up to wind one hand into his hair. Even as he leaned back into her touch, he continued, 'You must be exhausted. Why don't I run you a bath, yeah? I'll even put a cooling charm on the bathroom so -'
'Don't want a bath,' Hermione grumbled, before stretching up to nip at his exposed throat. Ron swallowed what sounded like a deep groan, and tried to extricate himself from her grip with feeble protests about her well-being, until she sank back to her feet and stared up at him. He stopped too, taking in her expression, and she whispered, 'Please, Ron. I need you. I need you to ... to make me feel good.'
'Oh,' he breathed out, sounding as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He rallied excellently, though, pulling himself up before he wrapped his arms around her once more. 'Whatever you need, Love.'
She let out a small whimper as he bent to kiss her again. His movements were so gentle that she felt as though he were taking her apart, piece by piece, with nothing but his lips on hers and his hands splayed along her back. She might have been frightened by the feeling, if she didn't already know that by the end, he'd have her put back together again, whole and most likely better than before.
His lips slid across her cheek and down her throat, and he turned them towards the room so that he could walk her backwards slowly in the general direction of the bed. She went willingly, trusting him implicitly. Her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she reached for the buttons of her blouse.
'No,' he murmured, breaking away from her neck and covering her hands with his. 'Let me, please?'
She nodded, and he took over, his long fingers deftly popping her buttons one by one. For each button opened, he placed a soft kiss against the skin it exposed, and soon he was on his knees in front of her, his lips just below her navel. She let the shirt fall from her shoulders, and he started on the button on her jeans. His movements were almost reverent as he slid the jeans and her underwear off, and she stepped out of the items to let him throw them across the room. When he looked up, she held his gaze as she unclasped her own bra and tossed it to join the rest of her clothing.
'Beautiful,' he rumbled, his eyes darkening as they scanned slowly down her naked body before flicking back up to meet hers. Her breath hitched at the evident want in his gaze, then he was pressing her back again, prompting her to lie back on the bed. He made no move to get up, instead nuzzling and licking at the inside of her right knee.
'Ron,' she sighed, and he hummed in response as his mouth moved higher up the inside of her thigh. Her head fell back and her legs fell further open automatically, giving him more access, and his lips vibrated against her skin as he growled his approval. She was almost panting by the time he reached her centre.
'Love you like this,' he groaned, his voice thick with lust, and she raised her head again to look down at him. His eyes were fixed on her face, and she could barely see any of the blue iris around his blown pupils now.
'I love it when you make me like this,' she admitted, and he smirked at her smugly before dipping his head forward and running his tongue over her wet folds. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking up when he did it again. One of his scarred, freckled forearms snaked up and over her waist, pinning her hips to the mattress below her as he dove into his assault.
She moaned and writhed as best she could as he flicked his tongue against her, alternating long licks up her entire core before latching onto her clit and sucking. His name was on her lips as he worked her, and this seemed to spur him on. His tongue drove in and out of her entrance, her mind going pleasantly blank as he lapped at her insides, then he replaced his mouth with two long fingers. She cried out as the intrusion had her seeing stars, gripping the sheets underneath her for something to hold, to keep her grounded. But then his unfairly skilled mouth as back at her clit, and it didn't take long for her to fall over the edge.
When she came to, panting and tingling all over, he was crawling up the bed towards her. She gave him a satisfied smile and reached for him, groaning when the taste of herself on his tongue sent a throbbing pulse of need through her oversensitive body. He carefully slid one arm under her waist and lifted, pulling her up the bed with him so that he could nestle between her hips, propping himself up on his elbows to lean over and kiss her languidly, giving her time to come down.
'Ron,' she murmured after a while, when the tingling in her body had faded to a pleasant buzz. 'Please.'
'I've got you,' he breathed back, and when he shifted she felt his cock, straining against his jeans, brush over her hip, causing her to bite into her lower lip in anticipation. She watched as he made quick work of shedding his clothes, then he was back, nestled between her legs. He kissed her deeply as one of his hands slid between them, and he lined himself up before rocking his hips forward, slowly sinking into her. She gasped into his mouth as he stretched her, and when he was fully seated she let her head fall back onto her pillow as she panted for air.
'More,' she whispered, and he immediately obliged. His hips rolled against her, and he set up a leisurely pace, his mouth and hands skating over her neck and torso. She whimpered and wound her hands into his hair, holding him close as he slid in and out of her. He raised his head to meet her gaze, and one of his hands disappeared between them. Her fingers tightened in his locks as his thumb brushed over her clit, and she bit into her lower lip to hold back a scream.
'Good?' he asked, a tender lopsided smile tugging at his mouth.
'Gods, so good,' she breathed, and pulled him down to kiss her. His movements sped, and he broke their kiss to stare down at her, love burning in his gaze.
'Marry me.'
'What?!' She froze under him, her eyes jolting wide. Surely he hadn't just said what she thought he had ...
'Marry me, Hermione,' he repeated, his face so sincere that her heartbeat stuttered. 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to give you anything you could ever want, everything you could ever need. I'll give it all to you, Love. Just say you'll marry me.'
She stared up at him, fighting through the haze of pleasure in her mind to try and make sense of what he was saying. 'I ... Ron, what ... You're only saying that because we're, um, busy ...'
'You ...' His movements slowed to a halt as he gaped at her. 'You really think that I'm only asking this because we're ... busy?'
'Well,' she murmured, suddenly uncomfortable at the scrutiny of his stare.
'Hermione,' he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious, his eyes glowing as he reached up to cup her face. 'Love, I've been wanting to ask you this from the moment I came back on the hunt.' She blinked. That long? His thumb grazed her lower lip as he murmured, 'We could be doing anything right now and I would still ask you. I'm sorry if my timing is terrible, but it just, I dunno, it felt right. We've just wrapped up the last missing piece of our lives. I'm ready to take the next step forward with you.'
Hermione's chest felt so full, and tears were prickling at the backs of her eyes. She looked up at this man. This wonderful man who had been her best friend for more than half of her life. This man who she had loved so hard for so long, much longer than she had been willing to admit to herself for years. And now he wanted her to be his wife. He wanted her to wear his ring and become an official part of his family. He wanted her.
''Mione?' He raised his eyebrows, his face now a little nervous. 'Any chance you might put me out of my misery any time soon?'
'Yes.' His eyebrows rose higher, and she laughed at the slightly incredulous look on his face.
'Yes?' His voice was awed, quiet, as though he thought that if he spoke too loudly, it would somehow shatter the moment.
'Yes, Ron, I'll marry you,' she clarified, and felt the tears well in her eyes at the pure joy that flooded his face.
'You'll marry me,' Ron repeated back, sounding dazed, then he was pressing kisses to her damp cheeks, her forehead, her lips. She giggled under his enthusiasm, but then his vigour caused him to shift inside her, and her laugh turned into a breathy moan. His gaze sharpened, and suddenly he was thrusting into her again, his pace now powerful, purposeful. He kissed her lips again and hummed, 'I love you.'
'I love you,' she replied, tears still rolling down her face and she reached up to cup his cheeks between her palms. 'I love you, so very much.'
Her words seemed to snap his restraint, and his buried his head in the crook of her neck as he rocked into her, hard and fast now. She wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him close, her back arching when his thumb found her clit again. He pressed down, and her eyes rolled into her head as she came, harder than before. Her orgasm triggered his, and he groaned against her throat as he spilled into her, pushing himself to keep moving until his legs shook with the effort and he collapsed onto her.
She wound her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his slightly sweaty hair, just breathing him in. The heaving of his chest slowly eased, and she lazily stroked up and down his back as he came back to himself. Finally, he shifted, raising himself up onto his elbows so that he could look into her eyes but keeping close enough that he stayed inside her.
'Did you mean it?' he asked, his voice suddenly tentative.
'If you meant it, I meant it,' she answered quickly, and despite the exhaustion clearly creeping across his face, he grinned.
'I meant it.'
'Me too.'
'Good,' he sighed, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips before dropping down and snuggling against her again. 'Sorry. Gotta sleep.'
She chuckled as she wound her fingers into his hair, fond thoughts of him running through her mind as his breathing grew deeper, and before long she found herself unable to keep her own eyes open.