Pitch-hitting for Miss L. Towe
Title: In This Corner
Author: Ruby Jean
For: Miss L. Towe
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 300
Note: Set during the first Christmas after the series ends.
The Weasley house was filled with people; family and friends alike drinking eggnog and eating the mountains of food Mrs. Weasley had prepared. Ron and Harry stood in a corner while Hermione chided them for pooling their money together to buy a measly present for their hostess: a Muggle egg timer that couldn’t have cost more than a few pounds.
Harry was tuning her out, while Ron’s face became increasingly red, which matched his mum’s homemade sweater. If he hadn’t been tired of the constant arguments, Harry might have found it funny that both his friends were directly under the mistletoe.
Actually, he did find it amusing, so he said as much. “Hermione, Ron, look above you.” Pointing out meant watching them both turn pink and stutter excuses as to why they couldn’t possibly kiss. “Tradition, you know.”
He neglected to mention that the party had stopped around them to watch the exchange. Also didn’t mention he saw a few side bets made between the Weasleys as to the outcome. Motioning to the twins, he set up his bet of friends kissing and then separating for the rest of the night.
Stepping back, he waited while the two shuffled in front of each other and exchanged uneasy glances. As Ron bent down, Hermione rose on her toes and they both collided with a loud thud. Rubbing their heads (and ignoring the soft laughter from across the room), they tried again. This time she aimed for his cheek, barely grazing it. Ron blinked and stepped back. Both pretended the small event hadn’t happened but still avoided the corner for the rest of the night…along with each other, ignoring the telltale sign of a deep blush that spread along their cheeks whenever they caught the other staring.
Grinning, Harry collected his money.
Title: Wedded Bliss
Author: Ruby Jean
For: Miss L. Towe
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 402
Note: Just a little fun moment in the world of the disorderly and tidy Weasley-Granger household.
“Ronald Weasley.” An exasperated brunette called to her husband from the kitchen. Said man walked from the bedroom into the room with his wife wearing a guilty expression.
Looking at her irritated face, he gulped loudly. “Yes, Hermione?”
“Why is there a mess in my just cleaned kitchen?” Bare foot tapping and a scowl on her face, he was reminded of Mum.
“Well, you see, I wanted to bake some cookies in that uven, so I mixed up a batch like Mum used to do at the Burrow, and -“
Furious, she didn’t let him finish. “And you thought that it would be brilliant to attempt to use my oven to cook with. That of course would explain the charred bits in the sink since you’ve never cooked in your life.” Grimacing, she hated the idea of cleaning up the room. The floor was covered in flour, the sugar canister was on its side, milk was dripping down the lower cabinets and drawers, oatmeal had collided with the milk on the floor next to the sink and had created a gooey mess, and vanilla extract had stained the center rug. Truly it would take hours to clean it by hand and not a swish of one’s wand, which was a new rule in the Weasley-Granger household. Magic was only used when necessary. Hermione had laid the rule down when she found she was expecting their first child, due in May. She wanted the children to know both sides of their heritage.
“Hermione, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I only went into the bedroom to take a nap-“
Again, she cut him off. “And upon waking up, you accidentally forgot the mess. Honestly, Ron.” With a long-suffering sigh, she grabbed a broom to collect the flour. However, before she could begin, he stepped in the way (and the flour, to her dismay) and presented a nearly black cookie that looked hard as a rock. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
Forgetting the mess they were standing in the middle of and just focusing on the fact he had tried, she leaned against him and gave a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Ron.” With a slightly diabolical look that made his eyebrows rise, she reached around, grabbed his wand out of his back trouser pocket and flicked it. Just like the Disney cartoon, the house started cleaning itself, leaving its owners to welcome the holiday’s arrival properly.
Author: Ruby Jean
For: Miss L. Towe
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 300
Note: Set during the first Christmas after the series ends.
The Weasley house was filled with people; family and friends alike drinking eggnog and eating the mountains of food Mrs. Weasley had prepared. Ron and Harry stood in a corner while Hermione chided them for pooling their money together to buy a measly present for their hostess: a Muggle egg timer that couldn’t have cost more than a few pounds.
Harry was tuning her out, while Ron’s face became increasingly red, which matched his mum’s homemade sweater. If he hadn’t been tired of the constant arguments, Harry might have found it funny that both his friends were directly under the mistletoe.
Actually, he did find it amusing, so he said as much. “Hermione, Ron, look above you.” Pointing out meant watching them both turn pink and stutter excuses as to why they couldn’t possibly kiss. “Tradition, you know.”
He neglected to mention that the party had stopped around them to watch the exchange. Also didn’t mention he saw a few side bets made between the Weasleys as to the outcome. Motioning to the twins, he set up his bet of friends kissing and then separating for the rest of the night.
Stepping back, he waited while the two shuffled in front of each other and exchanged uneasy glances. As Ron bent down, Hermione rose on her toes and they both collided with a loud thud. Rubbing their heads (and ignoring the soft laughter from across the room), they tried again. This time she aimed for his cheek, barely grazing it. Ron blinked and stepped back. Both pretended the small event hadn’t happened but still avoided the corner for the rest of the night…along with each other, ignoring the telltale sign of a deep blush that spread along their cheeks whenever they caught the other staring.
Grinning, Harry collected his money.
Title: Wedded Bliss
Author: Ruby Jean
For: Miss L. Towe
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 402
Note: Just a little fun moment in the world of the disorderly and tidy Weasley-Granger household.
“Ronald Weasley.” An exasperated brunette called to her husband from the kitchen. Said man walked from the bedroom into the room with his wife wearing a guilty expression.
Looking at her irritated face, he gulped loudly. “Yes, Hermione?”
“Why is there a mess in my just cleaned kitchen?” Bare foot tapping and a scowl on her face, he was reminded of Mum.
“Well, you see, I wanted to bake some cookies in that uven, so I mixed up a batch like Mum used to do at the Burrow, and -“
Furious, she didn’t let him finish. “And you thought that it would be brilliant to attempt to use my oven to cook with. That of course would explain the charred bits in the sink since you’ve never cooked in your life.” Grimacing, she hated the idea of cleaning up the room. The floor was covered in flour, the sugar canister was on its side, milk was dripping down the lower cabinets and drawers, oatmeal had collided with the milk on the floor next to the sink and had created a gooey mess, and vanilla extract had stained the center rug. Truly it would take hours to clean it by hand and not a swish of one’s wand, which was a new rule in the Weasley-Granger household. Magic was only used when necessary. Hermione had laid the rule down when she found she was expecting their first child, due in May. She wanted the children to know both sides of their heritage.
“Hermione, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I only went into the bedroom to take a nap-“
Again, she cut him off. “And upon waking up, you accidentally forgot the mess. Honestly, Ron.” With a long-suffering sigh, she grabbed a broom to collect the flour. However, before she could begin, he stepped in the way (and the flour, to her dismay) and presented a nearly black cookie that looked hard as a rock. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
Forgetting the mess they were standing in the middle of and just focusing on the fact he had tried, she leaned against him and gave a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Ron.” With a slightly diabolical look that made his eyebrows rise, she reached around, grabbed his wand out of his back trouser pocket and flicked it. Just like the Disney cartoon, the house started cleaning itself, leaving its owners to welcome the holiday’s arrival properly.