"Always There" - An R/Hr Fic Dedicated to Mudblood428
HAPPY BIRTHDAY VENESSA! I hope you like it. :)
Always There
“Well, it looks like there won’t be any Quidditch today.”
Hermione peered out the window as she walked into the kitchen. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets, and the cloud cover made the sky very dark despite that it was well past eight o’clock in the morning. She rumpled Ron’s hair with her fingers as she went past the table; when he looked up from checking the sports scores, their eyes met.
“Guess not,” he shrugged. He continued to watch her as she went to the cabinet to retrieve her favorite coffee mug. The sleeve of her robe slipped down to her elbow as she reached up to get the mug, and she stood up a bit on the balls of her feet. Ron would have gotten up to help her, but she had the cup now. Plus, she looked so bloody cute. It reminded him of the first year Hermione sitting in class at Hogwarts with her arm stretched high above her head as she waved madly to get the professor’s attention, and answer a question that no one else had a clue to what the answer was.
Maybe he should have been disappointed that the game was cancelled for today; he and Harry had been looking forward to the Cannons vs. Puddlemere United match for weeks. But it would be rescheduled. Besides, rain meant that Hermione probably wouldn’t be making the trip to the Ministry to catch up on work, either. When it rained she became a homebody; of course, she could Apparate and be there in a flash, but the foul weather did something to her. It didn’t quiet her need to keep busy - this was Hermione, after all - but she preferred to stay home.
“Oh, you’ve made a pot of coffee already. Thanks, you’re an absolute love,” Hermione said, filling her mug. She glanced at him, and her mouth turned up slightly at the corners. Ron felt a shiver run down his back, and it wasn’t from the draft.
“So, I suppose you’ll be staying in today?” he offered, trying not to sound too obvious.
She sighed lightly, curling a stubborn lock of bushy brown hair behind her ear and took a discerning look out the window as she sat down opposite him. “I really do have a boatload of work to do--”
“Nothing you can’t do at home, though.”
Then Hermione caught on, and her eyes twinkled like a little girl’s. “No, I suppose not.” She reached across the table and touched his wrist lightly with her fingers. Their eyes locked and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Hermione started to pull her hand away, but Ron grabbed it back.
“Not so fast, Mrs. Weasley,” he said with a warm smile, then lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“Mmm. I love the sound of that,” Hermione replied, and her cheeks flushed. “It’s just so…”
“Amazing, brilliant, fantastic…” Ron threw out words, one eyebrow raised.
“Perfect,” she finished.
“Sounds about right.” Ron winked, and released her hand.
“I can’t believe it’s been a month already since the wedding. You know, as of the beginning of this week, they still hadn’t changed my name on the office directory in the lobby? I mean, it’s the ruddy Ministry of Magic! So I just went ahead and did it myself. What are they going to do, right?” She smiled like the cat that ate the canary, lifting her hand to once again curl the hair back around her ear. The gold band of her wedding ring coupled with the modest but pretty diamond engagement ring caught the kitchen light for a moment, and something in Ron’s chest shifted.
There were moments when he looked at his wife and couldn’t believe his luck. It was a far cry from their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, when she’d been a snobby-nosed, bushy haired girl with big teeth and he’d been a gawky boy with dirt on his nose, trying to turn his rat yellow. Then, they were worlds apart. Now…not so much. He smiled to himself.
“Listen, do you really have to do work today?” he threw the question out there; he didn’t expect an affirmative response - she was nothing if not diligent about her work. But he always tried.
“Well, I should do some, but maybe not all day.” Her eyes softened and she set down the mug. “Why, have you got something in mind?”
Ron was momentarily startled by her response, but in a good way; his entire body flooded with warmth and he once again took up her hand. “I always do,” he said.
Hermione leaned closer. “Listen, how about I work until noon, and then for the rest of the day, I’m yours?”
“Make it eleven and we’ve got a deal.”
“Eleven-thirty. And I’ll make lunch.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Ron agreed, and he stood up halfway to share a kiss with his wife over the tabletop. “Eleven-thirty, right on the nose. Not a minute later.”
“If I’m still at my desk you can come in and physically carry me away.”
“Hm. I rather like that idea.” Ron chuckled.
“All right, I suppose I’d better get changed and get to work since I am under deadline.” Hermione winked, and got to her feet. “See you at eleven-thirty, Mr. Weasley.”
“Oh, I’ll be there.”
Ron watched as Hermione left the kitchen and mounted the steps to the bedroom, and he continued to watch the stairs long after he could hear her moving around in their bedroom, right above his head.
“I’ll always be there,” he finished. And smiled.
Always There
“Well, it looks like there won’t be any Quidditch today.”
Hermione peered out the window as she walked into the kitchen. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets, and the cloud cover made the sky very dark despite that it was well past eight o’clock in the morning. She rumpled Ron’s hair with her fingers as she went past the table; when he looked up from checking the sports scores, their eyes met.
“Guess not,” he shrugged. He continued to watch her as she went to the cabinet to retrieve her favorite coffee mug. The sleeve of her robe slipped down to her elbow as she reached up to get the mug, and she stood up a bit on the balls of her feet. Ron would have gotten up to help her, but she had the cup now. Plus, she looked so bloody cute. It reminded him of the first year Hermione sitting in class at Hogwarts with her arm stretched high above her head as she waved madly to get the professor’s attention, and answer a question that no one else had a clue to what the answer was.
Maybe he should have been disappointed that the game was cancelled for today; he and Harry had been looking forward to the Cannons vs. Puddlemere United match for weeks. But it would be rescheduled. Besides, rain meant that Hermione probably wouldn’t be making the trip to the Ministry to catch up on work, either. When it rained she became a homebody; of course, she could Apparate and be there in a flash, but the foul weather did something to her. It didn’t quiet her need to keep busy - this was Hermione, after all - but she preferred to stay home.
“Oh, you’ve made a pot of coffee already. Thanks, you’re an absolute love,” Hermione said, filling her mug. She glanced at him, and her mouth turned up slightly at the corners. Ron felt a shiver run down his back, and it wasn’t from the draft.
“So, I suppose you’ll be staying in today?” he offered, trying not to sound too obvious.
She sighed lightly, curling a stubborn lock of bushy brown hair behind her ear and took a discerning look out the window as she sat down opposite him. “I really do have a boatload of work to do--”
“Nothing you can’t do at home, though.”
Then Hermione caught on, and her eyes twinkled like a little girl’s. “No, I suppose not.” She reached across the table and touched his wrist lightly with her fingers. Their eyes locked and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Hermione started to pull her hand away, but Ron grabbed it back.
“Not so fast, Mrs. Weasley,” he said with a warm smile, then lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“Mmm. I love the sound of that,” Hermione replied, and her cheeks flushed. “It’s just so…”
“Amazing, brilliant, fantastic…” Ron threw out words, one eyebrow raised.
“Perfect,” she finished.
“Sounds about right.” Ron winked, and released her hand.
“I can’t believe it’s been a month already since the wedding. You know, as of the beginning of this week, they still hadn’t changed my name on the office directory in the lobby? I mean, it’s the ruddy Ministry of Magic! So I just went ahead and did it myself. What are they going to do, right?” She smiled like the cat that ate the canary, lifting her hand to once again curl the hair back around her ear. The gold band of her wedding ring coupled with the modest but pretty diamond engagement ring caught the kitchen light for a moment, and something in Ron’s chest shifted.
There were moments when he looked at his wife and couldn’t believe his luck. It was a far cry from their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, when she’d been a snobby-nosed, bushy haired girl with big teeth and he’d been a gawky boy with dirt on his nose, trying to turn his rat yellow. Then, they were worlds apart. Now…not so much. He smiled to himself.
“Listen, do you really have to do work today?” he threw the question out there; he didn’t expect an affirmative response - she was nothing if not diligent about her work. But he always tried.
“Well, I should do some, but maybe not all day.” Her eyes softened and she set down the mug. “Why, have you got something in mind?”
Ron was momentarily startled by her response, but in a good way; his entire body flooded with warmth and he once again took up her hand. “I always do,” he said.
Hermione leaned closer. “Listen, how about I work until noon, and then for the rest of the day, I’m yours?”
“Make it eleven and we’ve got a deal.”
“Eleven-thirty. And I’ll make lunch.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Ron agreed, and he stood up halfway to share a kiss with his wife over the tabletop. “Eleven-thirty, right on the nose. Not a minute later.”
“If I’m still at my desk you can come in and physically carry me away.”
“Hm. I rather like that idea.” Ron chuckled.
“All right, I suppose I’d better get changed and get to work since I am under deadline.” Hermione winked, and got to her feet. “See you at eleven-thirty, Mr. Weasley.”
“Oh, I’ll be there.”
Ron watched as Hermione left the kitchen and mounted the steps to the bedroom, and he continued to watch the stairs long after he could hear her moving around in their bedroom, right above his head.
“I’ll always be there,” he finished. And smiled.