Twenty-three days, four hours and sixteen minutes after Voldemort was finally (and exhaustively) defeated, I watched my first and best friend propose to my other best friend.
We were at the Burrow, having gone there to celebrate (again) the announcement of the birth of Bill and Fleur's baby girl. The proud parents had just taken her upstairs when there was a definite lull in the conversation. I was sitting on the opposite side of the room Ron and Hermione were on, avoiding them and Ginny and the twins. I was only there because I had to be and Ron would have killed me if I wasn't.
Hermione had her back to most of the room, sitting on a stool facing Ginny, and happening to be facing me. I could watch her every gesture and smile as she spoke with my ex and everyone would think differently. They wouldn't notice me watching her, all of my thoughts taken by her. She was confident, unlike me, of her place in this family and her eyes shone with the knowledge of such.
Ron stood up quietly and placed his finger against his lips so no one would give away his game. He snuck up behind Hermione, who hates it, and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up from the stool. She caught her feet and whirled to face him, away from me, to where I couldn't see her face, only to have him take one knee. Her hands flew up, covering her mouth as he looked up at her, a broad grin on his face. Even from my position across the room I could see the tips of his ears turning pink. He reached slowly in his picket pulling out the traditional black jeweler's box, opening it in front of her. I couldn't keep a small scowl from my face.
She didn't squeal or jump; Hermione didn't do that. Despite me not being able to see her face, I knew tears were welling up in her eyes as she began to nod yes.
Bill and Fleur came down the steps at this, effectively breaking the silence. Spontaneous applause broke out as Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, beaming at the couple. In the commotion I scowled and left the room. I waited a minute, waited for Hermione to notice my disappearance like she always did. Finally I disapparated home, still waiting for her.
~*~
The next few months flew by. I became busy at work for all the wrong reasons. I was avoiding both my roommates and my home because I didn't think I could handle one more instance of them either bickering (more vicious than usual) or happily snogging (sometimes more) all over the damned place. Also, I refused to participate in the planning of the wedding, mostly because the youngest Weasley and the Weasley matriarch were shooting me identical hopeful looks. I did not want to be part of the Weasley family in that sense. Ginny was just too, well, young for me. She's my best friend's sister! I did still plan Ron's stag night, my crowning involvement.
Predictably, he got trashed, along with everyone else while I sat, sober, watching them make fools of themselves. Someone had to make sure Ron got to the altar on time the next morning. I couldn't let Hermione down like that. During the night as Ron got steadily worse, he said some things to me that I had rather not he had. He dogged Hermione left and right, for one thing. He called her "that annoying bookworm" among other things. I wanted to ask the git why he proposed then, but he passed out before I had the chance. Frustrated and angry, I took him home, throwing him on his bed and returned to my own.
Because Hermione's parents had died in the war (Voldemort had personally murdered them) and she wanted me to be part of the wedding on her side, I reluctantly gave her away. Having done that, I stepped to Ron's side as best man. When I gave Ron the rings, I caught her eyes. She smiled at me and I faltered.
I barely made it through the rest of the ceremony and reception without fleeing. For their wedding present I bought them a tour of wizarding France because I know it's Hermione's favorite country. They left just in time for me to smile once more than return home to collapse in my chair, my head in my hands.
~*~
Three weeks later they returned, Hermione her usual brown but with her arm in a sling. Ron was pink around the edges. I guess France was warm and bright. When I asked about the sling, Ron started and Hermione blushed. Inwardly I recoiled but Hermione explained she fell down the stairs at one of the museums they had toured. They were happy and smiling and returned to one room instead of two.
~*~
I didn't mind them living with me; I actually talked them out of renting a flat together so they could save for their own house. I knew I'd be lonely without them and I know I'd miss her, them, more than I care to admit. You don't spend practically every day for the last seven years with someone not to get used to them. We shared Grimmauld Place like I always thought we would after I accepted that it was mine. I knew we'd each have our own wing if we wanted it. I chose Sirius' old room; I didn't think I could at first but I kept coming back to it after making this my home. Hermione convinced me it was for the best; there I'd feel closer to him. She's right, you know. Ron chose our old room, I'm sure out of convenience and familiarity. And Hermione took the room closest to the Black Library, of course. Now, however, they shared a new room. That happened to be just down the hall from mine.
It didn't bother me. Except the several times I caught them going at it against the wall. The vision of Ron slamming Hermione against the wall and her whimpering like some, well, some sex-starved whore haunted my dreams from night to night. Particularly when they hadn't renewed the silencing charm recently. And I didn't like it when I'd bump into either of them, disheveled, on my way to the loo. Most often it was Hermione, a strap of her nightgown falling off her shoulder as she made her way to the library when she couldn't sleep. Ron usually headed towards the kitchen, hoping for some leftovers or a mug of warm milk like his mum always had handy.
It was hard getting used to them being married, I'll have to admit. Not the rampant, blatant obviousness of their sex life. But their everyday bickering. It increased. Exponentially. About everything. I guess it was their closer proximity that fueled it. Hermione looked more haggard and worn down and stressed. Ron, too, was tired, but he had just started Quidditch practice once they got back. Their constant bickering and sex and opposite schedules forced a strain on their new and different relationship. And I'm sure I'm part of the cause as well. More than once I've walked in on them to see them stop their interaction immediately.
It was driving me insane.
So I kept myself busy, much like I had during the planning of their wedding. I started to work longer hours and hang out with my coworkers more often. I got up early to fly and came home late after finishing my reports at the office.
Soon enough they had been married six months. My birthday had passed without pause. The newlyweds were busy, I was busy. We had dinner together but that was it. Hermione's birthday passed in much the same way. I cooked her favorite breakfast and Ron took her out for dinner. They spent the weekend in their bedroom. I like to think she was teaching him to knit.
Christmas arrived. Dreary, cold, snow up to my knees and an outburst of Dark activity summed up my holidays. Ron's season had stopped for a break at the beginning of December and he wouldn't go back until mid-January, so he was always around the house. Hermione and I were both busy during the few final days before Christmas. It was getting close to the year anniversary of Voldemort's demise and the natives were restless. She put in extra long hours at St. Mungo's while I filled out file after file, report after report filled with the kind of information that puts you to sleep.
Christmas day was quiet. I made it first down the stairs to the tree we had decorated together. I organized and placed presents under the tree while I waiting for them to come down. As I entered the room carrying a tray with three mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of biscuits, Hermione padded sleepily in.
She had on her traditional Christmas pajamas: red and green flannels with a candy cane striped shirt and reindeer slippers with a nose that lit up red when you walked. Only now they were so old only one of the lights worked and then only intermittently. She was pushing sleep from her eyes when I set the tray down. I greeted her with a "Happy Christmas" and noticed she had a black eye.
I crossed to her and gingerly touched it. "How'd you do this?" I asked her.
She smiled guiltily and looked at me. "Oh, I hit it on the towel rack last night before I went to bed." She laughed shakily. "I'm so clumsy sometimes."
I smiled back but I was a little suspicious. Hermione had never usually been clumsy; that was Tonks. I saw her when she came out of the loo last night and she was not sporting a new shiner. My musings were halted though when Ron walked into the room.
"At last," I grinned at him. He threw a pillow at me.
We all exchanged a look and then, as one, dove into our respective piles of gifts. It was great living with my two best friends, especially on mornings like Christmas.
~*~
For Ron's birthday Hermione and I threw a surprise party at the Burrow. We invited everyone: his teammates, family, friends from school, random people off the street, you name it. Ron loves meeting new people and celebrating his birthday, so that was no problem. Mrs. Weasley insisted on cooking, which was lucky because Ron loves his mum's cooking almost as much as he loves Quidditch. The party went off without a hitch and Ron made some new friends. Or groupies. Quite a few were female, but that fazed neither me nor Hermione (oddly enough). We got home early the next morning after staying to clean up and bringing home a tipsy Ron.
They forgot their silencing charm that night. They woke me up, which is disturbing in and of itself. But what I heard… Hermione is one lucky woman based on the screams I heard before I placed my own silencing charm over their room. The morning after Ron's birthday found me grumpy in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast that I shoved in my mouth. Hermione came in shortly after I began staring at the table. She looked worse than I felt. As she reached for my cup to refill it I noticed scratches on her arm, as well as bruising around her elbow. She missed my inquisitive glance and she didn't seem to favor it so I knew she was alright.
It still bothered me though. She returned my cup with a smile that promptly distracted me. We talked a little before we both had to leave. Ron was still in bed; practice didn't start until the afternoon.
Lunch time came and I remembered Hermione's weird bruising. I dropped by the hospital to take her to lunch so we could talk. I hoped to probe slightly, the good Auror I am, to find answers to the questions I wouldn't ask. Lucky for me she wasn't busy and we walked to the nearby café. She chatted happily about her day so far and about how her special patients were progressing. I complained about paperwork, like I always do. She just punched me on the shoulder and laughed.
During lunch I probed and prodded but for nothing. Either Hermione had been brushing up on her Occlumency or I had lost my touch. Her bruises were too new for me not to be suspicious. However, we parted ways with plans for dinner that night since Ron would still be in practice.
~*~
We were in the middle of doing dishes the good ol' Muggle way when Ron came home. I had just splashed Hermione with a flick of a spoon when she retaliated by pouring a whole pan full of water over my head and onto the floor. She tried to make a run for it but slipped on the water, grabbing me so she wouldn't fall. We were laughing so hard and having such a good time together (especially since they had gotten married) that we didn't hear him come in until after she had pulled me down with her. I just happened to land mostly on top of her when Ron stormed in looking absolutely livid. I stood up quickly as he yanked Hermione to her feet. To my surprise he pulled her out of the kitchen despite both our stunned and ineffective protests. I heard him slam their bedroom door. Perplexed, I finished the dishes and cleaned the kitchen myself.
I didn't see either of them for the rest of the night. I returned to my room, deep in thought. Ron's reaction had really surprised me. I mean, he's always been a little jealous but not like that, especially about me. I surmised practice must have gone badly and he was just stressed out. I know when I'm down the last thing I want to hear is two people laughing. Well, except if one of them is Hermione.
The house was quiet again in the morning as I left for work. There wasn't much left for me to do, as it was a Tuesday, so I skipped lunch and went home early.
~*~
A/N: The title of the story ultimately has nothing to do with the plot, I just like the way it sounded. Okay, well, it kind of has a point. Here's a hint of what's to come: If you haven't listened to Harmony Podcast #9, then you really need to. It, and a couple songs that you'll see later, inspired this fic.
Also, I hoped the R/Hr didn't turn you off! Stay tuned.