Unofficial Portkey Archive

TITLE: All Roads Lead Back

KEYWORDS: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. Primarily H/Hr, but a slew of various ships as well. Post-HBP.

SYNOPSIS: Harry Potter always figured that once his destiny was fulfilled he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him, he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to Hell! A very gradual, slow moving H/Hr love story told through multiple canon character perspective as well as several flashbacks. Set 7 years after the final battle.

SPOILERS: All six books.

WORD COUNT: 15,699

RATING: NC17 for language and later sexual content.

BETA: Padfoot & murphsmine

WARNING: Tons of R/LB action and some background on how Ron and Hermione eventually got together. They were once VERY much a couple. If that kind of talk makes you angsty you might want to hit the little red X. You have been warned.

DISCLAIMER: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

Thursday, 05/26/05

"I'm a house-elllllf for you

I can't fight it; I'm not trying to hide it

I'm a house-ellllf for you

I can't fight it; I'm not trying to hide it"

As he opened his right eye, the one not currently pressed into his pillow, and caught his first ray of sunlight; Ron Weasley silently cursed his inability to no longer be a heavy sleeper. When he was a teenager he could sleep through any disturbance, probably due to the fact that he had to put up with a certain ghoul clanging above his head through out most of his childhood. His friends used to jokingly say he could sleep through a hippogriff stampede and they weren't really that far off.

That was then.

After the War...not so much. Just about any creaking noise in the night would jolt Ron awake. He had gotten progressively better, though. At first he would always wake-up, wand at the ready. Being tortured by a maniac would have that effect on anyone. But seven years since those dark days had tempered that impulse reaction to defend his life.

Ron rose to a sitting position in his bed and stretched his sore and aching muscles. He was exhausted! All day Wednesday he and the rest of his team mates had been put through their paces by Russell Talbot, his Wimbourne Wasp team captain. The team was just one win away from taking the British Cup, and just needed to defeat the Arrows to do so. The game would be played on June 4th. Ron was terribly excited. He was finally on a winning team! Although in his heart he would always be a faithful Cannons fan (he always rooted for the under dogs in life), he had to admit that his ego took one too many hits during his few years on the Chudley squad.

When Wimbourne made the bid to bring him on as their Keeper, Ron at first was annoyed that the Cannons were so willing to trade him. But then he saw the money that the Wasps would be paying him and that dried up his annoyance quickly. He soon realized that the Wasps wanted him because they thought that his talents were being wasted at Chudley. That gave him a huge sense of pride, as well as a much needed ego boost. Back when he was 18 he was barely able to get a job as the Cannons reserve Keeper, but at 24 he was being courted by the top franchise in the league. After one year with his new team he was about to play for his first British Cup and might actually get picked for the English National Team. Plus he would get to play against Wood's team. The thought of destroying Appleby made the thought that much sweeter!

"I'm a house-elllllf for you

I can't fight it; I'm not trying to hide it

I'm a house-ellllf for you

I can't fight it; I'm not trying to hide it"

Ron winced as he heard the nowhere near dulcet tones of his girlfriend...fiancée...floating out of the bathroom connected to his bedroom. Lavender was many things; gorgeous, sexy, funny, caring. But a singer, she was not. She usually sang when she was in the shower, much to his anguish, so he usually tried to keep her occupied to spare his eardrums the distress. But this morning he was much too tired to initiate their usual morning activities.

Normally Ron's morning would begin with a quickie in the shower with Lav before heading over to the Burrow for breakfast while she went home. Lavender officially lived with her mother in Exeter, but she spent so much time in his and George's flat that most of her clothes and other assortments were there. There was, however, no room for her shoe collection. Lavender always had to pop back home to get the right pair of shoes to match her robes. She also had to pick up her 4 year old daughter, Violet. After bathing and dressing the little girl, the two of them would Apparate over to the Burrow to eat with Ron, his parents, Bill, Fleur and their four children; Marcel, Lionel, Rosemary, and Dashiel who all lived in the old Weasley family home. Every now and then George would drop by for a quick bite.

After eating, Arthur would portkey over to the Ministry with Marc, Leo, and Vi in tow. The Ministry had instituted one of the best day schools for the children of wizards only a few years ago, and Arthur's high position made it possible for his grandchildren and Vi to be students there. Rosie, not yet 3 years old, and Dash, just turning 18 months were still far too young to attend.

With Vi taken care of, Ron would then go to his team's pitch in Dorset and Lavender would make herself busy...doing something. Ron was never quite sure what Lavender did in her spare time when she wasn't at his side. He suspected it involved a lot of shopping. Her dead husband had left her a sizable inheritance when he kicked.

Today, however, was different. Ron was taking the day off to go with Lavender into town to see their wedding planner. He couldn't help but grin to himself every time he thought of his impending marriage in little less than one month's time. Asking Lavender to marry him was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Friday afternoon after practice he was going to make another important decision that involved him, Lav, and a certain little strawberry blonde princess who owned his heart as well. In Ron's opinion life just couldn't get any better!

"I can't fight it; I'm not trying to hide it"

Although if Lavender decided to stop singing that would go a long way to help.

Ron heard the running water of the shower stop. He moved his long, hulking body to the end of the bed, stretched out on his bare stomach, and patiently awaited Lavender's emergence from the bathroom. After a bit, the lady came into the room.

"Morning love," she said sunnily as she adjusted the large white towel wrapped around her still dripping hair.

"Morning," he gruffly answered as she stooped down and placed a quick kiss on his lips. The movement made her thin silky purple dressing gown gape open a bit and Ron caught a quick glimpse of a milky mound before she righted herself and strengthened the tie of her robe. The little Weasley in Ron's black and orange boxers instantly made its presence known. Maybe he wasn't as tired as he thought.

"Eww," Lavender admonished playfully, "morning breath." She crinkled her nose. "No morning nookie for you I'm afraid."

She turned to walk to her dressing mirror, but Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her down so that she got on her knees before the bed and was face level with him.

"You usually like my morning breath. And the gunk in the corner of my eyes too," he teased, his lips curling into a sexy smile that almost made Lavender woozy.

She ran her fingers through his flame colored hair and scratched behind his ear; an act she knew turned him on greatly.

"Of course I do, luv. I love everything about you," she said sweetly and kissed him again, this time deeper than the one before. "But this morning we have plans," she remarked after breaking the kiss. She then got up and made her way to the chair before her dressing table. "So no nookie!"

"We could always reschedule, ya' know."

Lavender turned from her mirror and looked at Ron, a cute pout gracing her face.

"You know we can't do that. The engagement party is Sunday. Sunday! There just isn't enough time. Moreover, our appointment is with the owner. She doesn't just take on any old body. We can't miss it!"

Ron rolled his eyes. He didn't know why they even needed a wedding planner. He was certain that his mother and Ginny could do a fine enough job for them.

"Besides," she began nervously, "we still are going to the Ministry tomorrow to...you know. Right?" The unsure look that crossed her face almost tore at his heart.

"Of course we are," he reassured her. "After tomorrow our little girl will officially be considered a Weasley."

Lavender smiled prettily at that statement.

"I just don't see why we can't be a little...late," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Won-Won," she sing-songingly whinged using the pet name she gave him back in their schooldays. "Don't you want to marry me?" That pout was doing very bad things to his libido.

"More than anything," Ron replied honestly.

That won him another glowing smile before Lavender turned back to her mirror and began her morning beauty regiment.

"Did my singing wake you?"

Ron had momentarily closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep when her question interrupted him. It was a long running joke between them that her singing left much to be desired.

"What; wake me?" he asked in a mocking tone. "Never! These bags under my eyes are only decoration."

She stuck out her tongue at him teasingly as she began to vigorously rub a sweet scented cream onto her hands, arms, and elbows.

"By the way, what was that you were singing anyways? It sounded more like noise than music."

"That was only one of the biggest songs out right now on the wireless. It's from The Gorgons, you know, that group with the three slutty witches who don't wear much clothing. One of them went to Hogwarts with us. If I remember right, she didn't seem to like to wear much clothing then either. Or knickers, for that matter. She was constantly in detention with Filch, though I don't think he minded much."

"She was a few years younger than us, wasn't she?"

"Yes, but still. Any-the-hoo, they take these old Muggle songs and totally revitalize them for the wireless. It's all the rage!"

"And still I say noise," he cracked derisively.

Lavender answered him in kind by tossing one of her bottles at him. It sailed over Ron's head and bounced off of his bottom before hitting the floor.

"Oi! Watch the goods!"

"Oh I'd never want to damage the goods. Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, my bum is still sore from sitting on my broom all day."

"Sorry, luv," she innocently apologized as she lotioned her long, lovely legs.

Ron momentarily forgot his annoyance at his girlfri...fiancée to admire them.

"Talbot still working you lot like mad?"

"The man is obsessed! But it all will be well worth it to see the look on the Scotsman's face when we topple Appleby."

"I would think you would care about winning the cup more than some stupid old grudge against Oliver Wood," she muttered as she began to put the cream on at a more furious pace. Ron couldn't help but hear the slight edge in her voice.

"Of course winning the title will be right nice, Lav. It would be my first. Harry in his day won three. I've got to catch up. But still it would be nice to take Wood down a peg or two," he confessed, narrowing his eyes.

Lavender merely huffed. Ron knew exactly why Lavender was annoyed. She thought that he was still jealous of the burly Scotsman. That couldn't be further from the truth. He just hated the git!

Ron lifted himself up from the bed and walked over to Lavender. He knew he had to do some serious damage control. He placed his hands lovingly on Lavender's narrow shoulders and placed his chin affectionately on the top of her towel wrapped head. He gazed at their reflections in the mirror as she willfully ignored him by trying to apply her make-up.

"Just think," he said in a wheedling tone, "of all the bragging rights you're going to have when your future husband comes home the big, conquering hero."

She failingly tried to smother her smile.

Lavender met his eyes in the mirror and said, "You've always been my hero."

His heart fluttered, and Ron briefly cursed himself for the pansy he was becoming in his old age. He kissed the top of her head and was about to walk over to the bathroom when his eyes landed on a thick book on the table before her.

"What's this?" he asked as he reached to pick it up. "From Shakespeare to the Beatles: A Comprehensive Study of the Muggle Arts," he said, reading the title out loud as he went to sit on the bed. He could hardly contain his laughter. "Are you serious?"

"Don't you dare laugh! I was never more embarrassed than I was last week at the Burrow."

A week prior he and Lavender had dined with his parents and a few of his father's staff from the Ministry. After the War a new department was formed, The Department of Magical/Muggle Brethren Affairs. Its intention was to make the relationship between the two societies run more smoothly then it had in the past. Arthur Weasley was promoted to head the office. His family couldn't have been more proud of the newly minted Liaison to the Muggle World, his prestigious sounding title. Arthur was ecstatic that he could finally study his favorite subject in earnest without being made a laughing stock for it. He had a small staff, but they were dedicated and the most knowledgeable when it came to anything Muggle.

"What the bleeding hell is a Posh and a Becks anyway?" Lavender grumped.

"Dunno, disease maybe?" he offered.

"Well whatever it is I'll know next time," she said. "You know how important it is to me that your father likes me."

"Dad likes you!"

"Maybe. But not as much as he liked...her," Lavender said as the steady hand that was applying her eye-liner faltered. She silently swore as she smudged the line, then tried to correct it.

At first Ron didn't know how to answer that remark, but he tried to make his way around it.

"Lav, I told you, if you want to stay in good with the Weasleys you have to butter up me mum."

"Pish posh, your mum adores me," she arrogantly said. "She's always after to baby-sit Violet, isn't she?"

Lavender examined the various shades of lipstick on her dresser and selected a frosted pink color.

"Besides it's your father who always acts uncomfortably whenever I'm around. You would think that he didn't want you to marry me."

Ron hated to admit it, but Lavender sort of had a point. Arthur was a tad cool towards Lavender, although he would deny this accusation wholly when confronted with it. The truth was that the Weasley patriarch would always have a soft spot in his heart for Hermione, Ron's former girlfriend. He had come to regard her as a second daughter over the years, especially after she went to work for him at the Ministry as his Administrative Assistant. It was a very lofty position for a girl not yet in her 20's. After Arthur had offered Hermione the job she had mulled over the decision for days. She had been torn between taking the offer, or going into the two year training program at St. Mungo's. Though the opportunity Arthur was offering her was tempting, Hermione still had her doubts.

"Isn't it a bit like nepotism?" she asked worriedly.

"No, it's a lot like nepotism actually," replied Ron.

It was the summer just after the end of the War, and at the time his recent break-up with Hermione was still fresh and he was still bitter. Despite that fact, they were trying to maintain their friendship, even living together with Harry in a Diagon Alley flat.

"You know you would be brilliant at it, Hermione. This job would be perfect for you," Harry assured her. "And who would be better at bridging the gap between Muggles and wizards than a Muggle-born?"

That answer was enough to make her smile.

"Besides I'll wager three quarters of the stiffs at the Ministry got there because of someone they knew," Ron said which earned him a swat to the head from Harry and barely a scowl from Hermione. He had recently started dating Lavender again to make Hermione jealous, but all it seemed to do was make her indifferent. "Well it's true! That's how dad got in. Uncle Gideon put in a good word for him to hear mum tell it."

"Never mind all that, Hermione just take the job," Harry pressed.

Hermione ended up taking Harry's advice. And as predicted she was more than brilliant at it. Arthur called her his right hand. No one was sadder that Ron and Hermione couldn't work out the issues between them more than Arthur Weasley.

"Maybe he's just in awe of your stunning good looks," Ron mused trying to diffuse the uneasy silence in the room made by Lavender's last remark.

"Or maybe I'm just not the girl he wanted you to marry."

Lavender rose up from her seat and walked to Ron's nearly bursting closet to the left of the bed to choose something to wear. In truth, most of the clothes in there were hers.

As Ron watched her every move, he sighed to himself softly. He'd hoped that Lavender wouldn't notice Arthur's reticence to their relationship, but it looked like she had. Lavender could be accused of being flighty, an airhead, and scatter-brained, but she was no idiot. She was usually well skilled at reading people. That's why he supposed she tried so hard to win his father's approval, even going so far as to read just about every book on Muggles she could find so she could have some bit of knowledge to impress him with. Ron had almost thought it a gag when he found her Muggles for Dummies book a few months prior.

Lavender had never really been interested in anything Muggle before then. She didn't even take the Muggle Studies course back at Hogwarts. But one thing Ron had come to learn over the years was that Lavender Brown was one of the most determined witches he would ever meet. She had been intent that eventually she would be Mrs. Ron Weasley and it looked like she was finally going to get her way. So now she was unwavering in her goal to win over his whole family. His mother and Ginny liked her. Bill, Percy, and their spouses got along well with her. Charlie seemed to find her charming. Harry, the twins, and Glinda tolerated her. All that was left was for Arthur to come around. Knowing Lav's commitment to achieving this goal Ron highly doubted that this wouldn't eventually happen.

"I think the Prophet will run a notice about the party either today or tomorrow."

Lavender was walking back towards the bed, a huge haul of robes and other clothing in her arms. She unloaded them onto the bed, rummaged through them a bit, and chose a smart gray skirt set out of the pile. She held it up along with salmon colored robes to go with. Ron nodded his head in approval. Ron loved the fact that she appreciated his opinion on her clothing and that she seriously took into consideration his likes and dislikes when she dressed. It made him feel appreciated. Needed.

"Is Daphne going to be at the party?" he asked.

"I should hope so. It will all be for nothing if it doesn't make the papers." Lavender had already crossed back to the closet with the reject outfits, so she missed his quirked eyebrow at the remark.

"Well even if she doesn't Luna will be there," Ron replied. "Ginny said that the Quibbler would definitely run something about the Commencement ceremony."

Lavender walked back to the bed, a disgruntled look on her face.

"Oh goodie, the Quibbler. I wonder if it's going to be next to the article on how to breed a pygmy Cyclops."

"Lav, be nice," Ron warned putting down her book and folding his arms before him. Although he would occasionally tell a joke at Luna's expense, he did not take kindly to other's mocking her.

"I am being nice," she countered. "I invited your ex-girlfriend to my engagement party didn't I?"

In answer to her question, Ron only fixed her with a stern eye.

"Oh Won-Won, don't look at me like that."

Lavender walked over to Ron where he sat on the messy bed, and placed her arms lovingly around his neck.

"It's just that Loony Lovegood makes me so nervous," she said trying to get him to understand her point of view. "She's just...it's just...ARG! She's so bloody weird Ron! You never know what she's going to say at a moments notice," Lavender cried, clearly vexed at the conversation.

"Cor! That's half the fun of Luna Lovegood," Ron answered her.

"I don't see why you're so bloody anxious to have her over at the Burrow. You know she's just going to bring that wanker boyfriend of hers."

"Git's not half-good enough for her!" Ron said tersely.

Lavender looked down into Ron's face stonily.

"You know, if I didn't know better I would think you still had feelings for Lovegood."

Ron hardly paid the accusation any mind. He knew Lavender like a book, and knew that she wasn't jealous of Luna in the least.

"I'm marrying you aren't I?"

"You almost married her didn't you?"

"Yes, and we both no why I didn't, don't we?" he answered shrewdly.

Lavender blushed at the statement all the way to the edge of the towel still wrapped around her head.

"Point taken," she bashfully said.

He grinned at her embarrassment and she good-humoredly returned the grin.

"Listen, luv, I'm going to finish my hair in the bathroom. Then, after I'm done, I suggest you take a shower." She gathered up the outfit that they had chosen.

"Are you trying to tell me I stink?" he joshingly asked as he placed his rather large mitts on either side of her waist.

"Mmm...Only of sky, and testosterone, and quaffles; my favorite smells," Lavender said dreamily. "However I don't think Madame Borghese will appreciate your distinct odour."

He scoffed at her remark and she playfully kissed his nose before she turned to walk to the bathroom.

"Just so we're clear, no more mocking of Luna, right?" he called after her.

At the doorway Lavender turned back to him and smirked.

"You know I'm not really jealous of Lovegood."

She removed the white towel from her head and shook out her still damp hair.

"Besides, I guess you just can't help it if you prefer blondes. It worked out in my favor didn't it?"

She then winked at him before closing the door.

Ron could only laugh at her brass. In a way he supposed he did have a thing for the fairer haired lovelies. And apparently women whose names began with the letter L, to hear Fred tell it. But usually, when out on the street, his eyes generally fell on a platinum colored witch here, an ash blonde beauty there. Whenever George was able to get him to go to a Muggle club for kicks he usually ended chatting up women with golden locks. The first female whom he had a sexual thought about of any kind was Hannah Abbot, a blonde pigtailed girl back when he was a Third Year at Hogwarts. Of course it could also be argued that she was the first girl to grow breasts in his year, and that was what caught his attention.

He was willing to admit that a tawny lass was enough to capture his interest. But oddly enough the first girl for whom he truly fell head over heels was no blonde. When Ron Weasley first fell in love the girl's hair had nothing to do with it, although he did think hers was rather wicked. No, he fell in love with her courage, her intelligence, her confidence, and her kindness. He fell in love with his best friend. Ron fell in love with Hermione.

In fact he remembered the first moment he realized that he was in love with her. He had just woken up in the Hogwarts Infirmary after drinking Slughorn's poisoned mead. He was groggy and confused, and barely knew where he even was. Due to the stark darkness of the room he could tell it was rather late in the evening. Before he could call out for anyone, he heard a soft voice whisper "Lumos" as the lantern by his head came to life. His vision was blurry, but a beautiful worry lined face surrounded by an expanse of bushy brown curls came into focus. She grabbed a hold of one of his hands and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Am I dead?" he asked, voice aching from non-use.

"No silly, you're safe and sound here with me," she admonished him, but her voice was warm and thick with caring. "Why would you think you had died?"

"'Cause you look like an angel."

Hermione's eyes had gone wide at the statement, but she didn't look like she was upset by it.

"Let's see if you say that the next time you see me out of bed first thing in the morning with my hair in tangles."

Her smile was enough to bewitch him into saying things he normally wouldn't.

"I'm just glad to be seeing you," he whispered as he finally squeezed her hand back.

Hermione gingerly took a seat on the side of his bed, hand still in his. She was wearing her school robes, her Prefect badge pinned firmly in place. He would have been content to sit there with her all night, just holding her hand and looking into her big brown eyes, but his curiosity demanded answers.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell happened to me?"

She told him the story as best as she could, from Romilda Vane's part in it, to Slughorn's. When she was done Ron could barely turn his horror struck eyes from her face.

"I'm never eating again," he firmly pronounced.

Hermione softly laughed.

"I heard from Dobby that the house-elves were making Sheppard's Pie tomorrow."

At that bit of news Ron's stomach growled. He looked down at it as if it had betrayed him. Hermione only laughed louder.

"Well, I'm going to go," she told him as she got off the bed. Ron immediately felt an almost frantic rush to keep her near.

"Please...stay!" His eyes pleaded with her as well as his words.

"I traded with Padma so I could patrol the First floor and visit with you, but even Prefects get in trouble for not being in bed on time," she joked. "Besides, I should have gotten Madame Pomfrey as soon as you woke up. She's going to be so cross!"

Ron couldn't help but chuckle. That was Hermione for you; she hated to break rules even though she did it time and time again for him and Harry.

"If I hurry, I can run up and fetch Harry. He'll want to know you're awake as well. We can then sneak back down under his cloak and sit with you for a bit longer. Would you like that?" she shyly asked.

"I'd love that," he earnestly replied. He then watched as she scurried over towards Madame Pomfrey's office, a goofy, gooey smile plastered all over his face.

Ron supposed he had always known he fancied her a bit before then, at least since he was 14. For one he always thought she was kind of cute, even before teeth shrinkage. And he had to admit that he did have a tendency to go a little nutty with jealousy if another boy looked her way. He even caught himself looking suspiciously at Harry a time or two. How ridiculous was that?

But love? That was a whole other can of pixies. You just don't go falling in love with your best friend…especially when you're dating her room mate to make her insane with jealousy. Ron could have kicked himself for the mess he had made of everything.

As soon as he got the nerve, he chucked Lavender. She cried and wailed at him, but really if Lav was the only obstacle standing between him and Hermione, Ron would have gladly pushed her into a room crawling with acromantulas back then if he had to. Unfortunately for him, he and Hermione's relationship remained frustratingly platonic for six more weeks after that. Ron was sure that it would take a miracle for him and Hermione to finally get together. Instead it took a death to make it happen. Dumbledore's death, to be exact.

It was the night before the Headmaster's funeral. A pall of deep and weary mourning seemed to cling to everything and everyone on or near the Hogwarts school grounds. He and Hermione had escaped the doom and gloom of the castle to go walking near the lake. Ron didn't know where Harry was, he just figured that his best friend was probably off snogging Ginny in some broom closet. His usual unease at what his baby sister and his best mate could be getting up to was momentarily on hiatus. Ron figured that Harry deserved a good snog after everything he had gone through in the last few days. Just not too good a snog.

There was an aura of unease surrounding him and Hermione, as though both of them were waiting for the other shoe to drop. They were barely talking, or even looking at each other. No holding of hands whatsoever, this was no romantic stroll. They had come to her favorite tree near the lake when suddenly Hermione came to a drastic stop. Her face was upturned to the sky and Ron lifted his head to look in that direction as well. What he saw made his heart throb painfully. It was the solitary figure of someone flying solemnly across the sky. Ron didn't need omnioculars to tell him who the person was.

Ron turned then to Hermione, mouth open to say...something...when suddenly he couldn't remember the words he was about to speak. All he could do was gape at the girl standing next to him.

She looks as though her heart is being torn to shreds.

This was the first thought that ran through his head. Ron had never seen an expression like that on anyone before. Sure he had seen Hermione cry, a lot of times because of some stupid thing he had said to her, but he had never experienced anything like her soundless, desolate weeping. She didn't even bother to wipe at the tears that were trailing all the way down to her charcoal colored jumper. Instead her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Ron was at a loss of what to do. If Harry was bad at dealing with over emotional women, he was even worse. When he had broken things off with Lavender he had wanted her to stop crying because it made him feel guilty and annoyed. But with Hermione, Ron would have given his whole Chocolate Frog card collection to get her to stop. He hated to see her hurt, even when he was the one causing the damage. Instead what he did was grab her by the shoulders, pull her towards his chest, and kiss her hard on the mouth.

It was really over before it started. One minute he was kissing the lips he had dreamt of kissing for the last few years. The next thing he knew he was flinging himself backwards from her, eyes wide with terror, mouth opened in horror at what he had just done. She's going to kill me, he briefly thought before he muttered quickly, "I'm sorry!"

If Ron thought he was shocked at his own actions, he was doubly amazed when she answered back.

"I'm not!"

Then she smiled at him as her eyes glistened from the tears she had shed. Ron had been so bewildered that he could barely enjoy the sensation of her taking his hand in hers.

"It's late; we should get back to the castle. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day," she said as she steered him back towards the school.

Hermione held his hand all the way back. It wasn't until he was settled snug in his bed that the realization of all that had just transpired fully hit him. He couldn't keep the big happy grin off of his face. Ron was certain Harry had noticed his good mood, but he didn't tell his friend what the cause of it was. Harry probably thought he was a gigantic prat for being so happy when everyone else was in mourning for Dumbledore, but Ron didn't care! The time for being sad again would come tomorrow. Tonight he would revel in the fact that he had finally kissed Hermione Granger and he was in love with her. To top it off, something in her smile told him that he would get to kiss her again.

Of course that next kiss didn't happen for another month. Ron didn't mind it so much at first. There was just always something to do. First there was the funeral to attend, and then there were Harry's stupid Muggle relatives to deal with. He and Hermione had made the decision to join Harry on his quest to defeat You-Know-Who, and one of the first stops they had to make was to his aunt and uncle's. The three teenagers' friendship with one another blossomed further in those few weeks spent on that quiet street in Surrey, and their bond became even stronger.

Nevertheless, Ron couldn't help but wonder if he was going to get a spare moment alone with Hermione ever again. There were times before then that Ron would almost think that his kiss with her had been all part of some beautiful, wonderful dream. But then she would squeeze his shoulder, or send him a cheeky little grin while Harry wasn't looking that would make Ron's spirits soar. We got a secret, we got a secret, we got a secret oh yes we do, that smile seemed to say. It was nice having something that belonged to just Hermione and himself.

They stayed at the Dursleys' up until the eve of Bill and Fleur's wedding and then made their way back to the Burrow for the ceremony. As weddings go Ron supposed it was a nice one. Fleur was mesmerizing in her snow white satin robes, Bill actually cried while reciting his vows, and nearly all of Ottery St. Catchpole turned out for the nuptials. After the ceremony, which everyone kept commenting was very, very French, he danced with Hermione at the reception. Three times! Of course Neville danced with her twice. Git. This fact did not distract Ron from noticing that Harry and Ginny seemed to be avoiding each other like the plague. He briefly wondered if the couple had a fight and almost asked his sister, but before he could Hermione sidled up next to him, looking very pretty in pale yellow, and sweetly asked him to show her his Chudley Cannons poster collection.

For a moment he wondered if she had gone barmy because a: he knew she didn't like Quidditch, and b: she had seen the same posters on his bedroom walls plenty of times. It wasn't until Ginny nudged him in the side, hard too, that he realized that Hermione had no interest in actually looking at the posters. He practically flew with her out of the Burrow's backyard, up the stairs, and to his room on the fifth floor landing. Quicker than you could say Firebolt, Ron had Hermione on his bed and on her back for a long, drawn out and highly anticipated snog.

It was brilliant kissing Hermione! It was Quidditch, and Christmas morning, and all the good Bertie Bott's flavors mixed up in one. At first she was quite tentative, especially when he first tried to guide his tongue into her mouth. But as time progressed, she gave in equally to the passion of his kisses. Ron almost passed out from joy when she began to nibble at the corner of his mouth. He felt like he was going to explode when she began to languidly graze her nails back and forth down the back of his neck.

They had long since removed their restrictive dress robes so that he could feel her bare arms wrapped around him. He could hear the sound of his dressy cotton slacks rubbing against her linen slacks. He wondered what her silken spaghetti strapped blouse would feel like against his bare chest. Ron wanted to just get lost in all of the sensations he was feeling, seeing...tasting. If he could just spend the rest of his life, lips fused to Hermione's, he would pay any price to make it happen. He was so caught up in waves of ecstasy that his mind had momentarily gone on auto-pilot. All he could think was: touch, squeeze, feel.

"Ronnie."

"Hmmm..." he answered, lips trailing their way down the side of Hermione's soft neck.

"Ronnie," she half-whimpered, half-sighed again.

"What?" he absently asked as he licked at the pulse point he found.

"Your h-hand," she said as she began to tug half-heartedly at his right arm.

She could have been speaking Mermish, for all he was paying attention.

"My what?"

He was hoping that she wasn't going to interrupt what they were doing to talk about their feelings or something Hermione-ish like that. Not now at least.

"Your hand, Ron," she repeated.

Ron slowly opened his eyes and looked into her flushed, rosy face. She looked wild and ravished with her hair fanned out on his loud orange bedspread. Her eyes were foggy, yet serene, while her lips were kiss swollen. Ron was just about to lean in and kiss them again when he glanced down and noticed that his right hand was resting comfortably, yet boldly on Hermione's left breast.

Bugger me.

"Oh shite...oh damn...OH BLOODY HELL!" he loudly exclaimed as he wrenched his hand from where it had been and quickly rolled himself off of her.

His hand felt as though it were on fire, although he couldn't be sure if that was because he had liked what he was doing, or because he was terrified that she was going to hex him for it. He imagined she would do something drastic like turn him into gnome food.

"Ronnie, it's ok." She pulled herself into a sitting position and brought her knees up so she could rest her chin on them while she sat against the headboard of the bed.

"Oh Merlin Hermione..." he continued.

A horklump. Gnomes like those little buggers don't they, he wondered. He was going to spend the rest of his life looking like a frilly pink mushroom. By this time he was on his hands and knees on the bed, looking at her as if he were a small child waiting in fear of his mum's wrath. Hermione merely stared at him as if he had lost all of his sense.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" she questioned. "It's alright."

"You must think I'm some kind of animal," Ron answered, voice muffled due to the fact that he had dropped his face in the palms of his hand to hide his shame. Hermione, however, reached to pull his hands back and looked him in his eyes. Hers had an encouraging little twinkle in them.

"Really Ronnie, it's ok."

"I mean I would never-" take advantage of you he started to say, but he was interrupted by Hermione's shocked gasp.

"Never?"

For a moment Ron was at a loss for what to think. Quite frankly he didn't know what she wanted him to say. That was until she gave an impish little giggle.

"You should see the look on your face," she teased.

At first he felt a fleeting wave of irritation that she would make fun of him like that, but then the surge of relief that she didn't want to turn him into something slimy made that all go away.

"I'm not mad," she said finally, completely assuaging his fears.

"It's just..." Ron began, pausing to search desperately for the right words to express his concern. "I...look; I know you want to take things slow. I want to take things slow," he hurriedly stated. "I'm just scared shitless that I'm going to cock up every thing. I mean finally we are going to..." he paused to catch her eye and bashfully turned his head to blush, "be together."

He looked back at her, and was calmed to see that she was blushing too as she bit at the corner of her mouth. This gave him the courage to go on.

"There is finally no McLaggen-"

"No Lavender Brown," she swiftly countered.

"No ickle Vickie Krum standing in my path. Sometimes I'm just terrified that I'm going to do something to make you go away."

"I'm not going anywhere, Ron. I'll never leave you," Hermione said calmly as she turned her body to face his squarely.

She shyly played with his fingers on the bed spread while keeping her face down so he couldn't see her blushing. He felt like he could float right off the bed at that very moment, he was so happy.

"And why do you keep bringing up Viktor?" she asked, finally making eye contact with him. "I've told you over and over again that nothing ever happened with him. You know very well that you're the first person I ever..." she turned her face away to hide her pink cheeks again and whispered softly, "you know...kissed."

He did. She had told him so not too long after their magical night at the lake. He could barely contain the joy he felt whenever she said it, just like now.

"And tonight I had my first ever celebratory snog," she said saucily. The look on her face made Ron want to get back to the snogging immediately.

"And what did you think of it?"

"Definitely O-worthy work," she answered him, lips stretched into a naughty smile. She was comparing him to school work. Hermione loved school work. This was definitely a good sign, he thought. He chuckled along with her until his mind unhappily drifted onto Lavender.

"I wish you had been my first kiss," Ron wistfully remarked as their fingers continued to twine themselves in and around each other.

"It's ok," she replied. "We'll have other firsts."

Ron's fingers instantly stopped their play as he stared back at her, agog. Did she mean what he thought she meant, he wondered.

"W-w-what?!" he stammered.

Smooth.

"There are tons of firsts. First...date. And first fight, although I think you and I have already covered that one ad nauseam, don't you think?"

He wasn't quite sure he knew what that word meant, but he was starting to think that she was toying with him again.

"First break-up, but let's not do that one shall we?" She twirled a curly lock around her finger as she humorously continued. "Of course a first massage would be nice, but only with clothes on. And then there is first-"

"You're killing me, Hermione."

"...time," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "There's always your first time, the biggest first of them all. The one you can never get back."

Ron swallowed the lump that had begun to form at the middle of his throat. You-Know-Who could have fell from the sky in the midst of this conversation, and Ron wouldn't have batted an eye at him.

"When that time comes I want it to be the right time and for all the right reasons. I want to be sure. I want it to be because he loves me and because I love him. I want him to be the only one...forever."

She demurely dropped her eyes back to the spread and traced the large letter E of the Cannon emblem.

"Terribly idealistic, I know. I want a lot of things, don't I?" she asked, haltingly raising her gaze to his.

"No," he barely choked out. "I want that too." He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed it and said, "No rush."

Her smile at this was beatific.

"Good."

"Someday."

"Someday," she answered back.

"Sunday?"

He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled at his lips when she eventually realized that he was having her on.

"Prat," she muttered cutely.

"That time you should have seen your face," Ron told her. "Besides, there's plenty of time for all of that. We have to have something to look forward to on the honeymoon, right?"

Hermione drew back from him at that remark.

"H-honeymoon?" a surprised Hermione stammered.

Ron could understand her shock. Seventeen year old boys rarely talked about wedding nights, much less getting married at all. But Hermione clearly underestimated Ron Weasley's determination to never let her go. He was ready for the full commitment after dancing around her for so many years. His own parents had gotten married not too long after leaving school, so it wasn't that crazy of an idea.

"Just something to think about," he offered.

"Y-yes...um...well..." she stuttered, "...you are definitely a marvelous kisser Ron."

"And she changes the subject."

He was amused. It was usually hard to unsettle Hermione, so moments like these were rare. He and Harry practically lived for them. Besides, she looked so darned cute when she was flustered.

"Lav-Lav obviously taught you well," she continued, desperately trying to throw him off of his game. She knew how much he hated those pet names.

"Arg! Can we not discuss her, please?"

It had worked.

"And why not?" she primly asked. "She was your girlfriend, was she not?"

"She never would have been if it wasn't for that precious baby sister of mines telling me all that rubbish about you and Krum."

At this Ron flung himself back on the bed. He was always quick to anger whenever he thought about the dirty trick Ginny had done him.

"Ron, just let it go," Hermione sighed.

The two of them had gone over this issue time and time again. It was a bit of a sore subject between them. He personally wanted to pluck his sister's hairs from her head one by one over it, but Hermione wouldn't let him.

"Sorry Hermione; I won't let it go. I just can't! After Ginny told me that lie, I don't know, I kind of went...loopy. All I could think about was you, snogging that Bulgarian pillock."

"So in turn you snogged Lavender."

There were no hurt feelings in her voice. She was simply stating the facts. Still Ron felt the need to impress upon her how much he wanted to be with her and only her.

"I swear I never cared for her half as much as I care for you!" he declared.

"But you did care? For Lavender, that is?"

Ron could barely meet her eyes. In truth he really did feel more for Lavender than he let on. She had a way of making him feel like he could soar over mountains. With Hermione he usually felt like he was desperately trying to catch up with her, but Merlin did he want to hold on tight when he finally did.

"It's alright, Ronnie. You wouldn't be the boy I fancied since I was 12 if you didn't care for Lavender at least a little."

"I..." he started to answer until the full meaning of her words reached him. "Hang on, you've fancied me since you were how old?" he blurted out. He could barely believe what he thought he heard.

Hermione found his awe struck demeanor amusing.

"A girl tends to fall for a bloke who vomits slugs in defense of her honor," she answered as she slid her body down the bed and turned herself on her side so she could face him.

"You're taking the piss!"

Somehow he knew she wasn't.

"I am not," she responded. "My little girl heart nearly swooned at the gallantry of it all."

Ron just looked at his brown eyed girl, amazed. He just never knew what to expect with her.

"How come you never told me?"

"What would you have done if I had?" she asked him.

"Dunno. I might have at least gotten the nerve to ask you to the Yule Ball if I knew all of that."

"Honestly Ron, if I had told you all of this beforehand you would have gone running for the Forbidden Forest, never to been seen again. Trust me. Besides back then we had finally gotten to a place where I believed that you really did want to be friends with me. You and Harry, that is. There was no way I was going to mess that up."

"Like we did this year?"

Hermione made a disgusted noise.

"Don't remind me. However I am glad that you had Lavender to get through it all. And Harry had Ginny. It was really a tough year from start to finish."

"You're being awfully nice about Lavender," he said half-mockingly, half-suspiciously. "Especially for a girl who sent a flock of parakeets at my head."

Hermione furiously blushed as she remembered her little stunt with the birds in the deserted classroom.

"Look, I was all mixed-up in the head. I mean, forgive me for being a teen aged girl and going all nutty with hormones," she playfully remarked before her face slackened into a more somber expression. She wasn't even looking directly at him.

Her eyes took on a misty sheen.

"I was confused about...something."

She then shook her head as if coming out from under a spell. Her eyes fell on him.

"But I'm all better now. I can think clearly now. I know what I want now."

She said all of this while slowly twinning her fingers in his hair.

"And they were canaries!"

Both of them grinned.

"Well they were bloody brilliant! I just wish they hadn't been directed at me so I could have fully appreciated them."

She laughed loudly at that and the sound of it made him puff out his chest with pride.

"Seriously though, I don't hate Lavender. I'm not her biggest fan, but I don't abhor her. Besides I can be magnanimous when it comes to Brown. I got the boy, didn't I?"

A sly smile formed on Hermione's lips that completely captivated Ron.

"Merlin! I might have actually understood that word. I think snogging you is making me smarter by the second."

"Alas, I always knew you were only after me for my mind," she tittered loftily right before her lips met his for another kiss.

Although that bit of snogging didn't last as long as the first, it was still just as good. When they finally came up for air, Hermione turned herself onto her stomach. She folded her arms and laid her head upon them. She was still looking at him, dreamily, but he could tell that she was a bit worn out. He was resting once again on his back, arms folded behind his head. For a brief moment he closed his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Ginny," he replied, eyes still closed.

"Goodness! Was I that bad?"

His eyes snapped open and he turned his hear towards her quickly.

"W-what? Of course not!" he blustered. "And eww," he said with an exaggerated shudder.

That made her giggle and he realized she had been joking with him again.

"I'm still cheesed off at her, ya' know. I still can't believe she did what she did."

"Maybe she was trying to light a fire under you," Hermione limply defended Ginny. "She knew that I fancied you, and that you felt the same about me."

Ron just stared at Hermione in shock. If it was true that Ginny knew all of this she had never shared the info with him.

"Maybe she thought if she got you good and jealous over some imagined Krum kisses, you would finally get off of your duff and ask me out."

Ron merely shook his head at the innocence that was Hermione.

"You see the only problem with that argument, luv, is that Ginny Weasley never does any thing that does not directly benefit Ginny Weasley."

"Ron," Hermione said, abashed at his candor, "that's a horrible thing to say about your sister!"

"Maybe. Still doesn't make it any less true."

"What about the Department of Mysteries? She almost gave her life for Harry just the same as you or I, Neville or Luna."

"Yes, but not for some grand cause or anything. It was more likely 'ooh Harry, look at me. I can be a great brave Gryffindor too'. Didn't you tell me she had never really given up on him?"

Hermione said nothing to this; she knew he had her there.

"Look, I love my sister. She's fun to pal around with and she's damned good at Quidditch. That still doesn't stop me from seeing straight through her. When Ginny wants something she isn't above playing dirty to get it. She wanted to hurt my feelings; she knew just what to say to set me off. See?"

Hermione just stared at him disbelievingly. She couldn't believe that the girl that Ron was describing was the same girl she had shared secret after secret with on many a summer night.

"I don't blame her really. She's just used to getting what she wants. She just was spoiled."

"Your mum?" Hermione tentatively asked.

"No, mum was more apt to spoil Bill or Charlie; Percy even. You know before she had Bill the Healers told her that she might never be able to have any children."

"Come again?"

She was completely dumbstruck at this bit of information.

"It's true! I figure that's why she coddled them so much. But then by time Fred and George came mum was letting them swing from the curtains," he joked. "No, dad was the one who spoiled Ginny. I guess he was just so happy to have a little girl. He would do anything for her."

Hermione looked at him sadly.

"Who spoiled you?" she wondered aloud.

Ron rolled over on his side to face her and began to trace the lining of her face. It was a tough question for him to answer.

"No one really, I guess. I mean, I know mum and dad love me. Just sometimes I can't help but feel that they...forget me."

Ron shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," Hermione announced resolutely. The firm set of her jaw told him that she meant every word.

"Merlin help me, but I'm in love with you."

His heart was in his eyes as he softly said this. Hermione stared into the deep blue of them and knew that he was speaking the truth. She honestly didn't know what to say to a pronouncement like that. No one had ever said those words to her. The first thing that crossed her mind was to repeat them back to him, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Ron cut her off.

"Don't say it."

She looked at him perplexedly.

"Don't say it unless you mean it."

Her eyes narrowed the way they usually did when she was about to start a row with him. She wanted to ask him just who the hell he thought he was telling her that she didn't know what was in her own heart. Ron saw every word written out on her face as if she had spoken them aloud.

"For me it's enough that you want to be with me. It's all I could have hoped for. I mean, I'm a right lucky bastard to have snagged a girl like you," Ron bashfully admitted. "I'm just waiting for the day that you come to your senses and realize that you don't really want me."

"Never!" she declared.

"Hermione, I want you to tell me that you love me only when you're sure that you love me. I'll be ready to hear it then."

"Well can I at least spoil you for now?" she flirted.

Ron tried to make a joke of it. In an exaggeratedly serious voice he said, "I don't know, it's a tough job. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Depends I guess," she volleyed back. "Am I your girlfriend?"

"Depends I guess," he teased then closed his eyes as though he were going to take a nap.

His eyes were closed for no more than ten seconds before Hermione began playfully beating him across the face and chest. He then pounced on her and began to tickle her all over. She shrieked and yelled and threatened to curse him as soon as she got a hold of her wand. The clamor then awakened the ghoul upstairs which caused them both to only giggle louder. They twisted and turned all over the spread until eventually they both somehow ended up at the bottom of the bed, Hermione laid out on her back with Ron straddling her hips. He held her arms above her head by her wrists so she couldn't tickle his stomach any longer, he was quite sensitive there.

As Ron held her down, he couldn't stay immune to the burst of sexual energy that seemed to instantly permeate the room. Hermione was flushed all over, from her hairline down to her chest. Her erratic breathing made it hard for him to take his eyes from the heaving swell of her bosom. With her arms pinned back the way they were, it only helped to make her breasts seem more enticing. Inviting. Her pearl colored camisole barely covered them. Ron was so enraptured by the sight of her that he didn't hear the shocked gasp from the doorway. He didn't even know that there was another person in the room until he heard Hermione's mortified voice greet their uninvited guest.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley."

For almost two weeks after that incident, Ron could not look his mum fully in the eye. Hermione would run from the room if the Weasley matriarch entered it. In spite of their odd behavior, no one else seemed to realize that the dynamics of Ron and Hermione's relationship had changed. Certainly not Harry. There were times that he seemed to be in his own little world and there was nothing his two best mates could do to draw him out. Hermione hypothesized that Harry's dour mood had something to do with the fact that in a few days the three of them would be leaving the Burrow to head off to Harry's parents' home in Godric's Hollow, a tiny little village in Nottinghamshire. Hermione had already told them that Apparating there wouldn't be possible since they didn't know the exact physical location of the place just yet. Otherwise they could end up splinching themselves. Ron was not looking forward to this part of the journey. Everyone knew the story of how the Potters met their end. The scene they were going to encounter more than likely wasn't going to be pretty. Thankfully for him he would have Hermione with him.

"You've been calling me Ronnie lately."

He and Hermione were sitting out by the pond in the garden. Ron had his head in her lap as she played with his ginger hair. They were positioned so that no one could see them if they happened to look out of one of the Burrow's windows.

She stopped what she was doing to his hair. He let out a little whinging sound that let her know that he wanted her to continue.

"What's wrong, you don't like it?" she asked as her fingers resumed their play.

"No, it's not that," he assured her. "It's what my family calls me sometimes."

He saw her bite her bottom lip pensively.

"I know. I just thought it was...affectionate. But I guess it is kind of weird for me to call you by something your mother does, yes?"

"No," he grinned. "I like it." He closed his eyes as he said; "Now all we have to do is find a name for you."

"Hermione will do just fine, thank you very much. My mother gave me a perfectly lovely name."

She teasingly pinched the tip of his long nose.

"I've got it," his vibrant blue eyes shot open. "Herms."

A loud guffaw erupted from him at the affronted frown she made.

"Goodness, that sounds like some sort of disease. 'Say, what did your first cousin die from'," she said in a fake deep voice. "'Oh, just a bad case of the Herms'," she replied in sotto voice. She crinkled her nose in disgust. "No thanks."

"Ok, ok. What about 'Mione then? That sounds rather pretty."

"Might as well call me your elbow, your ear, you big left toe," she grumbled as she rolled her eyes to the sky in exaggerated exasperation. She looked so cute when she did that.

"How does Hermy sound?"

She lifted her nose primly.

"Only one man in my life is allowed to call me that."

"I knew it! I knew I saw Grawp making eyes at you at the funeral," he said playing along with her. "I was ready to go up to him and make my intentions known. Only reason I didn't was because...well...you know, giant and all."

She giggled madly at that and he felt his head go light at the sound of it.

"Well I like my name, although it did take me a while to grow into it. When I was little it was just one more thing that made me..." she paused in search of the right words, "different...than the rest of the kids."

He imagined just how different his brave, brilliant Hermione would have been at that age. All big haired and big named. She probably was smarter than most of her teachers even then. She had shared with him and Harry that the children used to tease her relentlessly before Hogwarts. They thought she was odd. The ruddy idiots! They just didn't know what they were missing knowing her. It always made Ron wonder, if not for a blundering Mountain Troll, would he have been permanently left in the dark as well?

"Eventually though I began to appreciate the things that made me different. Although I don't know how well I would have handled being saddled with Perdita. Luckily dad put his foot down on that one. Imagine; you could have been dating Perdita Granger right now."

Ron's smirk at her story wavered slightly as he cleared his throat to bring up a slightly sore subject between them.

"I think we should tell him," he said seriously.

"Tell who, what?" Hermione mumbled absentmindedly.

Ron rolled his eyes at her dimness. And they say that I'm thick, he thought.

"Harry. I think...I think we should tell him about us," he clarified.

Hermione dropped her hands from his hair.

"Ronnie," she whinged, "I thought we already discussed this? I...I don't think that's such a good idea right now," she awkwardly responded.

Ron sprung up from where he was laying and turned hurt eyes towards her.

"And why not? Don't want anyone else to know that I'm your boyfriend, eh?" His body language was combative.

"What? Oh come off it Ron. Let's not play the injured prat yet again, shall we?"

He bristled at the fact that she would bring that up so soon after he thought they had settled the matter.

"Harry has a bit too much on his plate to worry over. We shouldn't burden him with our drama as well. Especially now after Ginny..."

"What about Ginny?"

"Harry broke up with her, Ron."

"So that's why they've been acting so strangely," he said, finally understanding his sister and Harry's odd behavior at the wedding and for the last few days.

Hermione looked at him in constrained disbelief.

"Sometimes I think I seriously over estimated, and that you really only have the emotional depth of a thimble!"

"Well how was I supposed to know?!" he exclaimed indignantly. "And why'd he go and do a thing like that for?"

"To protect her. He didn't want the huge bulls-eye of being Harry Potter's girlfriend sitting on Ginny's back," she replied. "And to tell you the truth, I've been living in abject fear that one of these mornings we're going to wake-up to find Harry gone off to face Voldemort all alone."

"The git would do something like that. He would think he was saving us."

"Precisely. That is why we can't let him. You and I Ronnie; we have to get Harry through this! Until then every thing else is trivial."

"You're right of course," admitted Ron anemically.

"And above all else, none of us are allowed to die!" she stated forcefully. "Or I'll kill you both myself, I swear!"

She had said it in such a serious tone that Ron wasn't quite sure if she meant it or not.

"Somehow I don't doubt that," he sniggered.

"Then afterwards, when the dust settles, Ginny and Harry can be together again."

"And you and I..."

He timidly took her small hand in his.

"And you and I..." she demurely answered back. "We'll all get our happily ever after."

Ron wrinkled his nose.

"That sounds a bit girlie."

Hermione shook her head jovially.

"How's this then...'Snogs for all'!"

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before jumping to his feet and grabbing her hand to help pull her up with him.

"Now that sounds more like it!"

Lavender came gliding out of the bathroom looking radiant as usual. She had changed into her clothes already and had her hair pinned up.

"Daydreaming, are we?" she beamed at him.

"Only about you, luv."

She smiled even brighter at the comment.

"What took you so bloody long in there?"

She walked over to her mirror and bent down to get a better look at her face. He sat up on the bed so he could get a better look at her bum.

"I couldn't decide if I wanted to wear my hair up or down. I finally decided to go with up. Makes me look older, don't you think?"

Ron knew that the proper way to answer that question was to just nod and shake his head ambiguously. The same went for the perennial, "do these robes make me look fat".

"I want Madame Borghese to know that she is dealing with a mature young woman, and not some little girl she can just push over."

"I don't even see why we need a wedding planner," Ron grumbled.

He watched in the mirror as Lavender frowned, just as she had the first time she told him of her idea to hire someone to organize their ceremony and all of the other events leading up to it, and he gave a similar lackluster response to her enthusiasm. She turned to face him.

"We need a wedding planner because this wedding is just going to be too big for your mum to accommodate everything for the Burrow's back paddock," she explained as though she were teaching a small child his letters.

"The Burrow was good enough for Bill," he muttered.

"Yes, I'm sure it was. But need I remind you that Fred got married in that simply gorgee cathedral, Percy and Penelope were joined at the Ministry, and Ginny got married at Hogwarts."

Ron looked at her, aghast.

"But those were completely different circumstances! Perce...well Perce is just a show-offy prat. Fred had to get married in that church because his wife is one of those Catha-holic jigga-ma-whatsits. He said her mum would have had a fit if she didn't. And Harry and Ginny had their wedding at Hogwarts because the whole bloody world wanted to come to it! You know that."

"Yes. And the whole wide world will want to come to ours just as well," she huffed. Her voice was steeped in annoyance. "Why are you fighting me on this? Is it the money? You can afford this!"

Ron got off the bed and walked over to his girl...fiancée and grabbed her hands. He knew that she was one step away from crying herself dry. He knew the signs well. He wanted to head it off before it got out of hand.

"I just wanted you to have a wedding you could be proud of," she sniffed, her eyes slowly watering. "So you could be proud of me."

He gathered her into his arms to try and soothe her, but she was already past the point of no return.

"A girl only has one chance to get married!" she wailed loudly.

She cried onto his bare shoulder as Ron gently stroked her hair. He neglected to remind Lavender that this would actually be her second walk down the aisle. In his old age Ronald Weasley had learned a very important skill. Diplomacy.

"There, there," he comforted her. "Of course I'm proud of you," he said as he softly rocked her to and fro.

Lavender sniffed.

"You mean it?"

"Of course I do. You are the woman I want to marry."

This earned him a smile as she pulled back to look in his eyes. Their heads were slowly drifting towards each other when there was a knock at the bedroom door.

"YOU LOT DECENT IN THERE?" a voice bellowed.

"NO!" Ron yelled back. "I'm having my way with my lusty witch as we speak."

"Oh good, I'm not interrupting anything too important then," said George as he barreled into the room.

He was already dressed for the day in his black robes with the WWW stitched in swirling loops at his left shoulder. He and Fred had adopted this quasi-uniformed look after they acquired their second Weasley Wizarding Wheezes joke shop in Hogsmeade village. Fred ran that one, while George was in charge of the one in Diagon Alley.

"Lavender, your mum is in the floo and she seems to be in a strop over something."

Lavender looked up havenward.

"When isn't my mother in a strop over something?"

She disentangled herself from Ron's embrace and passed by George to head out the door.

"Going over to mum and dad's?" George asked after Lavender left the room.

Ron, dispirited over the lovely meal he was going to miss, sighed forlornly.

"No, we'll probably eat at the Cauldron later. Me and Lav have an early appointment with some wedding planner."

George's eyes went bright with mirth, and Ron instantly regretted his slip.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath.

"Ooh, la dee da! Ronniekins is off to see a wedding planner."

"Shut it, you!" Ron said, grinding his teeth in irritation. "It's what Lavender wants."

"Of course," George said in a cloyingly sweet tone. "Just remember Won-Won that if the planner tries to get you to wear white you can't, you brazen trollop you!"

George was already out the door by time Ron threw one of Lavender's face cream jars at him. It hit the door with a dull thud, before Lavender came back into the room. She did not look too happy.

"Violet threw a tantrum again," she explained to him. "I've got to go home real quick to settle everything. Circe! How in the world my mum managed to raise three girls is beyond me when she falls to pieces every time my child cries for more than a minute."

Ron took her in his arms again.

"Go on, go see about the midget."

"I'll have you know that my daughter is not a midget. She's a perfectly lovely little girl," Lavender said in mock indignation. Her arms slowly came around his neck.

"Of course she is. Just like her mum."

He kissed her forehead and then her lips.

"Go on. I'll be ready when you come back."

"You had better," she said before giving him a quick kiss in return and walking out of the room.

Ron hoped that Violet was alright. She could be a bit fussy at times, and was known to cry over something as simple as her peas touching her meat. She also had an aversion to all things maroon, just like him. As he walked into the bathroom, he made a mental note to buy his little girl a gift as soon as he got a chance.

His little girl! Ron's heart swelled every time he thought of her as such. Although biologically she wasn't his daughter, Ron had practically helped Lavender raise the child since her husband's death. For reasons beyond his comprehension, Violet had simply stolen his heart right from the start. He adored her! In fact he had wanted to adopt Violet even before he was fully convinced that he wanted to marry Lav.

Ron still remembered the day that Lavender came to him and told him that she was getting married. It was the day before Valentine's Day. He and Hermione had only been back together for twenty-one days (he had counted). This was their third shot for a reconciliation and Ron was hoping that this was going to be their last. He still had the engagement ring he had bought her, with the twins' help, way back when they were both 18. He had tried to give it to her two times before, but they had broken up after each proposal. But this time Ron had hope. He was counting on the third time being the proverbial charm.

He had contemplated doing it on Valentine's Day, but he nixed the idea for seeming too cheesy. He was so wrapped up in thoughts of Hermione, and rings, and weddings, that he barely heard it when someone rang the doorbell. It was Lav. She showed up at his and Harry's flat to tell him that she was going to marry her boss, Cornelius Pye. Lavender had been working as a personal secretary for the man since leaving Hogwarts. Pye was the last remaining heir of a pureblood family that had once owned a profitable broom company, Pye in the Sky. Even though they had long since sold the company, the Pyes still remained a wealthy and influential bunch, and Cornelius would often hire pretty little things to help him run his philanthropic organizations and take care of his personal needs. All of his personal needs. Lavender was the first one he had actually asked to marry him, though.

"I think I could grow to love him," she told Ron that day.

She sounded as though she was desperately trying to convince herself.

"I think I could be happy. He even reminds me of you a bit. I like to think that's how you'll be when you grow up. He even had Weasley red hair once," she joked referring to Pye's now bald pate.

Ron was dismayed at her plans. Even though he had been a lout to Lavender over the years, quickly discarding her every chance Hermione looked his way, he had still grown very fond of his Lav-Lav. In his own way he figured that he even loved her. He was surprised to find that he was actually jealous over the prospect that she would be another man's wife. Besides, Cornelius was much too old for her. He was 78 for Merlin's sake! Dirty old coot!

But Ron told Lavender that if marrying Pye would make her happy, he would be happy for her. She bravely informed him that the only thing that would make her happy was if Ron married her instead. Ron reluctantly told her that he couldn't, not as long as there was a chance that he could be with Hermione. She said that she understood. Two weeks later he read in the Prophet that Lavender and Olde Pye (he, Harry, and the twins had taken to calling the bastard that) had run off and gotten married in Gretna Green, Scotland on Valentine's. Nearly eight months later Violet Elvyrah Pye came into the world.

By time Lavender got back to his place after settling things with her daughter and her mum, Ron was dressed and ready to go. It was 10 o'clock. Their appointment was for 10:30. Since he lived in Diagon Alley, in a sky rise building that stood where Ollivander's used to, he and Lavender were able to walk arm in arm to the wedding planner's shop. It was a dazzling white building located right before the turn into Knockturn Alley, across the street from Gringotts. There was a mannequin dressed in a lacy bridal robe in the store front window. She winked at them as they walked up. The gold block lettering over the dummy's head said Blissful Brides by Borghese.

"Try saying that three times fast," Ron cracked.

Lavender smacked his arm.

"Behave," she warned him.

When they finally entered the shop, they were both surprised to see that it was much larger on the inside than it appeared to be from out on the street. That didn't stop it from being packed to the gills with people. Young girls running here and there before mirrors trying on bridal robes and veils, groups of women dressed in olive walking back and forth jotting down notes on pads, little witchlets taking their first tentative steps in low heels; the place was buzzing like an overactive beehive. To the right of the entrance way Ron saw a flock of women examining a table full of expensive looking dinnerware as an older woman, who clearly worked there judging by the color of her robes, explained the prices and details of them all. Ron was quite bewildered by the whole scene, but Lavender merely pulled him along to the receptionist. As they walked up to the desk, a pretty dark haired girl, dressed in olive as well, looked up and greeted them.

"Welcome to Blissful Brides by Borghese," she said perfectly and perkily.

Ron fought down the snigger at the back of his throat.

"Hello. I'm Lavender Browne-Pye. I'm here to see someone about my wedding."

"But of course," the girl answered. "Let me see if I can get one of the associates to squeeze you in. You have to forgive us though; it's summer and everyone wants to get married," she said as she stood up from her chair and looked around the shop for an available planner.

"No, no, you don't understand," Lavender smugly interrupted. "I am Lavender Browne-Pye and this," she gestured over to Ron, "is my future husband. Perhaps you have heard of him, Ronald Billius Weasley? As in Ron Weasley, star Keeper for the Wimbourne Wasps, finalists for the British Cup. Also known as Ron Weasley, co-defeater of He Who Must Not Be Named, does that ring any bells?"

The young girl looked at Ron and Lavender with huge, star struck eyes. The whole congregation by the table had gone quiet during Lavender's speech and was still watching them.

"Gracious me! The Weasley wedding, I'm so sorry! The Madame asked me to let her know as soon as you arrived. I'll just go run and do that," the flustered girl said before she turned on her heels and fled the room.

"What?" asked Lavender as she turned to see the nonplussed look on Ron's face.

"Bit rough on her don't you think, Lav? Poor kid looked like she probably just stepped off the Express."

"Listen, luv," Lavender said as she wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and kissed his cheek, "you deserve the best. And I," she placed a hand on her chest, "am always going to be here to make sure you get it."

She then kissed his cheek again. He could only smile at her balls-iness.

Soon the kid, who introduced herself as Paloma, was back escorting them into the back office of the shop. At least it was supposed to be an office, but instead it looked more like some kind of back room boudoir. It was decorated in dark mauve and lilac colors, there were large pillows scattered all over the plush carpeting, and silk veils and multi-colored beads hung from the ceilings every where. To the left of the door there was a marble sculpture of a pair of dancing cupids. They were currently doing the Cha Cha.

But the soft sensuality of the room was dominated by a large desk. Sitting at the desk when they walked in was a stately looking woman with obviously dyed red hair. She was an older witch, perhaps in her late 80's or 90's, but she still had the air of a vital, energetic young woman. Ron figured that it must be her bright green eyes that gave that impression. Her face still retained a bit of the prettiness that must have been hers in her youth, although now it was gracefully lined with age. Instead of the olive uniform that everyone else around her wore, her robes were a dynamic aqua shade. She was stout, yet not fat; regal, yet not imposing.

She was standing up to greet them.

"Buon Giorno."

Both he and Lavender turned to the receptionist with perplexed expressions.

"She said 'morning," the girl answered brusquely.

"That will be enough, bella. Could you run down to Tom's and see if he has any more of that sinfully delicious pumpkin spice latte from the other day?" the woman asked in a voice that carried a trace of an Italian accent.

"Sì, Madame."

The girl exited the room after briefly curtsying.

"Come, sit," Madame Borghese entreated, pointing towards the two comfy looking wing back chairs before her desk.

She took her own seat as the two of them did the same.

"The Cauldron may not be very chic, but those lattes are to die for. 'Course they are so good that they must be a sin. But I'm sure a little sin in the morning never hurt anyone. Don't you agree, Signor Weasley?"

Ron was at a loss for words. The woman, seeing Ron's stunned face, merely grinned at his stunned reaction. He turned to Lav hoping that she would help him out.

"She's just teasing you, luv," she reassured him as she placed a calming hand on his knee.

"Your charming fiancée is correct, Signor Weasley. Forgive me; I tend to flirt with my impending grooms. I am an old woman, it is my way," she said giving a nonchalant wave with her hand.

She then straightened in her seat.

"Now, to the business at hand," she said as she drew her wand out of her right robe sleeve. She conjured a fancy looking quill; Ron suspected it was made from a Phoenix feather, and a note pad. "I believe we are here to discuss your wedding."

"My favorite topic," Lavender squealed, voice bubbling over with excitement.

"And are you doing things in the old Briton ways?" the Madame asked, hands clasped before her as her quill began to record their conversation.

"Oh yes, Ron and I both come from families that would like to retain some of the old rituals." Lavender looked over to him and gave him a sweet smile. "But at the same time we would like to add some modern influences as well."

"Of course, of course, and I will be more than happy to help you with that," said the Madame as she pointed her wand at the desk and an object that looked like an old Muggle adding machine appeared on it. She pressed a few buttons and a slip of paper printed itself out.

She tore the paper off and read it.

"Let's see, that would make the wedding date...June 24th, sì?"

"No, no," Lavender quickly corrected. "Won...er...sorry, I mean Ron proposed Tuesday."

"Dio mio! Cara, you should have come to me since yesterday. Don't you know that the Olde Rites are the number of days of a complete lunar cycle?"

"I know, I know..." Lavender nervously answered.

"That would mean that your Commencement is..."

"Sunday."

"Dio mio!" she exclaimed again. "That only leaves me two days to plan."

"Plan what?" Ron spoke up. Up until that moment he had felt completely useless in the whole conversation, but talk of the engagement party caught his attention. "My mum has already taken care of the whole thing."

The Madame let out a sigh of relief.

"Ah, that is good then. In the first years it was the mother of the groom's responsibility to host the Commencement besides."

The Madame then began to calculate the new information. Once the paper rolled out she looked over the information and then handed the slip to Lavender.

"All the things I handle and the fees are listed there. Thankfully the party Sunday gives me one less thing to worry about. That would just mean that I would take care of the Naming Tea, the Ending Party, and the culminating Wedding ceremony of course. I'm sorry, but I don't do the Temptations. That's completely up to the Maid of Honour and the Best Man."

The Madame sniffed at the very idea that she would handle something so base.

"Have you decided yet on who will fill these roles?"

Lavender looked up from the sheet.

"Oh of course! Ron's sister, Ginevra Potter, and her husband, Ron's best friend."

"Ah yes," said Madame Borghese. "Harry Potter. This is going to be quite the wedding indeed."

Lavender had brought up Harry's name innocently enough so that if one didn't know her, one would think Lavender's vague mention was completely innocuous. But Ron knew her quite well, and he didn't appreciate her use of Harry's name to score herself points with Madame Borghese. He let her know by shooting her a reproachful glare the moment that the Madame took her eyes from them and looked back at the door.

Paloma had arrived with the Madame's latte and had even brought steaming cups of coffee for the couple. While the Madame held a short conversation with her receptionist in Italian, Lavender looked over to Ron and mouthed the word "sorry". Ron merely nodded his head back at her in acceptance. Paloma then exited the room again.

"Now if you want, Blissful Brides can help you with all of your important needs. We help with ribbon selection, finding the new home, and we even offer instructors who can coach you and your party on the various charms and spells. As I'm sure you glanced in our show room up front, we also offer a wide selection of bridal robes. Only the latest fashions, of course," she said as though anything else would be sacrilege. "You have all of the prices listed there, but my basic fee is what is circled. I think it's more than reasonable."

Lavender nodded her head in response as she handed Ron the slip with the fees. Ron causally looked down at the paper, then did a double take.

"Bugger me!"

Lavender turned cool, angry eyes on him.

"Ron!" she fumed. She was able to sound both terribly embarrassed and wrathful at the same time.

Madame Borghese only chuckled at the couple.

"It's quite alright, dear. I've yet to have a prospective groom who didn't react in much the same way."

Ron didn't think of himself as cheap, but having grown up being a tad...impoverished, he learned early on the importance of a galleon. When he became a young adult and first started earning a wage, he earned the reputation of being thrifty and smart with his gold. Although the salary the Wasps paid him was no small amount, he didn't believe in being extravagant with his money. The figure that the Madame was offering for her services was more than he got for his signing bonus! What did Lavender take him for? Bloody King Midas!

"Signor Weasley, let me see if I can help you understand," Madame Borghese said making her way from behind her desk and settling herself in front of the couple.

She plucked the price sheet out of Ron's hands before leaning against the desk.

"In the days since past, all the services that I, and the other wedding planners like myself take care of, used to be the responsibility of the Maiden, what we now call the Maid of Honour. She was supposed to be a representative of the bride's purity. She was also responsible for executing the wedding Cycle to the bride's exact wishes. Back then there was no more important job for an unmarried witch! Essentially she would want to do a good job because soon it would be her turn to choose the proper Maiden."

The Madame left her perch and crossed the room to a bookshelf on the right side wall. She drew out a heavy book, brought it over to Ron, and placed it on his lap. She then went behind her desk and took a seat again. Ron opened that book, a photo album, and began thumbing through it. Page after page contained the animated photos of wedding ceremonies. He assumed that they were all former Blissful clients.

"Times, however, have changed," she said returning to her subject. "Some say for the good. Some...disagree. Things have been taken from and added to the Cycle. Once upon a time the groom's family would be in the room as the marriage was first consummated."

"Blimey!"

"Indeed, Signor Weasley," she softly laughed. "Thankfully that was done away with. Why now there are even Matrons of Honour. Trust me; that fact scandalizes anyone born before the 1900's."

Ron began studying the pictures as Madame Borghese continued to speak. He had to admit, the couples in the pictures all looked blissfully happy.

"Now days though not as much importance is put on the ancient rites. Some wizarding couples opt to have Muggle religious ceremonies. Some even elope. The old ways are no longer enforced, and because of that sometimes a bride will choose a Maid of Honour who isn't...how does that clever little saying go...up to snuff. As your planner I will ensure that every thing goes according to plan under my watch. I am thorough, I am attentive to details, and more than anything else, I live for making a young bride's dreams come true."

Ron's attention was caught by a photo of a young couple kneeling before a feeble, nearly bald old wizard who was dressed in shiny golden colored robes. Ron recognized the man immediately. It was Armando Dippet, the fellow who was Headmaster before Dumbledore. Ron recognized him from his portrait hanging in Dumbledore's, now McGonagall's office. The picture was taken in profile, but he couldn't exactly see the couple's faces because the two tiny images were too enrapt in each other.

Soon that's going to be me and Lav, thought Ron excitedly.

"Do you love your fiancée, Signore?"

Ron answered the question so quickly that he didn't even have time to be offended by it.

"'Course I do!" he exclaimed forthrightly.

"Wouldn't you like to make your bride's dreams come true?"

Ron looked at Lavender, his sunny, funny Lavender. She meant everything to him! From the very beginning she always let him know that she put him first before anything. She knew that they belonged together long before he finally figured it out. He knew deep down that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. She was his heart! She was his fiancée.

"Of course I would," he promptly answered Madame Borghese.

A smile spread across the old woman's face.

"Then let me give you and the Signorina a dream wedding, one that will live in your memories and fantasies forever. Let me plan your wedding."

She handed him back the sheet of paper with her fees on it and he leaned across her desk to take them. He could feel, rather than see Lavender go stiff with anxiousness. He looked at it again briefly before plucking the Madame's quill from its spot where it was still writing. On the line where it asked for his form of payment Ron wrote down his Gringotts vault number. He then handed the slip back to Madame Borghese.

"Whatever Lav wants, do it!"

You could have heard a pin drop in the room for a moment before Lavender sprung to life beside him, and reached over to grab him. She placed a huge kiss on his cheek before squealing for joy.

"Quello è buono," said the Madame. "We will meet in a few days to begin making plans in earnest."

She stood up, and he and Lavender followed suit.

"Thank you, thank you Madame Borghese," Lavender cried jubilantly, extending her hands to take those of the older witch.

"Cara bella, it is I who should be thanking you," she said as she clasped Lavender's hands and placed first her right cheek, then her left against either side of Lavender's and made a kissing sound. "It's when I meet a couple so obviously in love, as the two of you are, that I remember why I started this company in the first place."

If those words had come from anyone else, Ron was sure that it would have sounded like a load of dugbog dung. But something in the Madame's demeanor told him that she meant her words wholeheartedly.

"And you may call me Filomena. After all we are going to be spending an awful lot of time together these next few weeks."

Filomena then bade farewell to Ron in the same manner as she did Lavender.

"Trust me Signore; you will not regret your decision. I will make your wedding perfect and not a thing will go wrong."

"I sure hope not," Ron responded. "'Cause I'm going to be paying for this thing all the way to the Old Wizards Home!"

A/N: Next up is Draco's POV. Things to look forward to: the identity of Draco's girlfriend, more on Cadmus, and the beginnings of an unlikely friendship.

A few more points of interest...

1) All characters other than Russell Talbot, Violet Pye, Cornelius Pye, Marcel Weasley, Lionel Weasley, Rosemary Weasley, Dashiel Weasley, Madame Filomena Borgehese, and Paloma are canon.

2) "I'm a house-elf for You" is a parody of Britney Spears' "I'm a slave for You". (heh, just covering my bases)

3) Perdita is a young heroine in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. Her mother was named Hermione.

4) Gretna Green is a small village in Scotland that is near the English border. It was once a popular spot for teenagers to elope to because Scotland had no real age of consent. According to Scottish law as long as a declaration was made in front of two witnesses almost anyone had the authority to marry a couple. Oftentimes this was the village blacksmith (or anvil priest). A blacksmith marries hot metal to metal in much the same way an anvil priest would forge a union between two people.

5) According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them a horklump is a garden pest that resembles a pinkish, bristle covered mushroom. It is a carnivore, but is the favorite meal of gnomes. A dugbog is a strange creature that resembles a piece of dead wood flaoting in the marshes in which it lives.

6) I tried to make the Italian understandable in the text but just in case it wasn't clear...

Buon Giorno.= Good day.

Dio mio!= My God or My Goodness!

Quello è buono.= This is good.

7) More on The Olde Rites later.

8) The Gorgons, the Ministry Day School, the Department of Magical/Muggle Brethren Affairs, the Liaison to the Muggle World, Blissful Brides by Borghese boutique, Pye in the Sky Ltd. broom company, and the books From Shakespeare to the Beatles: A Comprehensive Study of the Muggle Arts, and Muggles for Dummies are all original to this story.

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.