A Little Left To Give
Originally written for the Ron/Hermione Colorful Winter Quote!Fic Challenge at Checkmated
Title: A Little Left To Give
Author: MsChangifyourenasty (fai_believes)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 5,007
Prompt: "There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint." -- Gandhi (color: gold)
Summary: “I think, when we’re old and grey, I’ll remember this.”
The scent of her mum’s cinnamon cake wafted through the warm room. Hermione couldn’t wait to tuck in with a mug of hot chocolate afterwards. This was the only time of the year that her mum let her indulge and really enjoy proper sweets. And after they ate, her dad would read from his book of Christmas stories while she curled up by the fire near his legs. She just loved this time of year…
A knock at the door caused Hermione to wake with a start. She straightened up quickly looking around the room, her dreams of Christmases long since passed fading already, before realizing someone was the door.
“Yes?” she said, trying to sound alert to make up for the fact that she had just been asleep at her desk.
“Finish those reports yet? Great. Got some more for you,” said Roy Maes, a fellow coworker who always looked rather harried and spoke very quickly, dropping a stack of files on the edge of her desk. “Try to have those reports on four plus legged magical creature registration done by tomorrow morning so I can got those filed away into the system as soon as possible. Don’t want to fall behind anymore than we already are. Have a good evening.”
He was already out the door before she could respond, as usual. “Good evening to you too,” Hermione muttered to the empty room. She sighed and pulled the stack of files over to her, settling in for the evening.
******
Pushing open the door to their flat, Hermione dropped her bag on the floor and dragged herself the four short steps it took to walk over to the sofa so she could flop down onto it. She kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the cushions so she could stretch out and close her eyes. Just for a moment, she told herself.
She felt a pair of lips press against her forehead. She just grinned without opening her eyes, already seeing the face of her perfectly loving husband clearly.
“How was work?” he asked, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. “You still have your cloak on, must have been a bad day.”
“No, just a very long one,” she said, finally opening her eyes. “And I still have some things to go over.”
“Not until you get some food in you first. I picked up some fish and chips take away from our usual chip shop on my way home. I’ll heat it up,” Ron said, already in the kitchen.
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Hermione called back sleepily.
“Probably starve,” she heard him say.
Hermione pushed herself up off the sofa and shrugged off her cloak before sitting at the table. It was small like their kitchen but didn’t do anything to make to the room seem less cramped. Yet despite the tiny size of their flat, it still felt a bit empty without their former roommate.
Harry had moved out a few months ago when he and Ginny had married this past July. Hermione thought of those two with a smile-only weeks after they had married, they announced that they were expecting a baby. It wasn’t long before Ginny had started to show and now four later, Ginny looked as though were due very soon. Ginny had eventually confessed to her that she had known she was pregnant since April. She and Harry had wanted to get married before telling anyone, which explained their rush to get married this past spring, but Mrs. Weasley had wanted the chance to plan her only daughter’s wedding. Hermione was fairly certain everyone had already figured it all out especially Mrs. Weasley but everyone seemed to overlook that whenever the baby came up.
She was happy for them, of course, but it felt like she hardly ever saw them anymore. Occasionally she saw Harry at the Ministry but he was as busy as she was these days. Ron would sometimes fill her in on Harry but it wasn’t the same as seeing him at the breakfast table every morning. Hermione knew it couldn’t be like that forever, Harry had been talking of moving out since she and Ron had said they were getting married. But she didn’t think it would take so much getting used to.
She started when Ron placed a plate in front of her. The smell of fish and chips made her wrinkle her nose slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Ron.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked his brow creasing. He worried too easily over her these days, which worried her.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“Then what’s with the look?” he asked.
“It’s just…” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but she knew he wouldn’t be satisfied unless she told him whatever was bothering her. “Fish and chips again? Why does it seem like we’re always eating this?”
Ron shrugged. “I like fish and chips.”
Hermione sighed and a bit a chip in half. She was starting to regret introducing him to his first fish and chip shop that began this slight obsession he had. She ought to take him out for curry a bit more or anything that wasn’t fish and chips.
“You don’t have to eat if you don’t like it,” Ron said stiffly as though she had personally offended him.
“It’s not that I don’t like fish and chips, it’s just that I get a bit tired of eating it all the time, that’s all,” she said trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“Well, if you’re so bloody tired of it, then you could always do something about dinner once in a while,” he said through his teeth.
She knew that he was trying not to row with her so she tried not to be too difficult. “Never mind, Ron. It’s fine. Really.” She ate a few bites as enthusiastically as she could so he would stop wrinkling his brow.
“You don’t have to pretend, Hermione. I’ll make you something else if you want.”
“No, you already too much for me as it is. I don’t want you doing anything else,” she said without thinking. It was true. Ron always seemed to be taking care of her these days when it felt like she did so little for him.
He turned away from but she didn’t miss the hurt look cross his face. A look she’d seen too often lately, it seemed like.
“Ron,” she said, setting down her fork.
He went into the kitchen, making a lot noises with the dishes. He came out a few minutes later and sat across from her, eating his dinner without looking at her. She wanted to say something to get him back into a more pleasant mood or at least make him smile. But she never seemed to know the right thing to say anymore to put things right. And she was exhausted and not sure she was capable of making the effort.
They ate their dinner in silence and then Ron disappeared into their room while Hermione went into Harry’s old room, which had been converted into her study. Ron’s idea, of course, she thought with a frown. Things between them were becoming frightfully unbalanced. She tried to put a dent in some of her work but she couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t long before she threw her quill down in frustration. She would never be able to get any work done this way.
With a sigh, she rose from her spot and went to go seek out Ron. After all these years, she thought that she and Ron would be past childish bickering and cold silences, but they hadn’t quite been able to break that habit, and their not talking bothered as much as it ever did.
Ron was sitting on the bed looking over some documents and making little side notes here and there. His head was bent towards the page so that his hair hung in face and she couldn’t see his eyes. She knew he’d probably trim up soon before Mrs. Weasley could be after him with her wand, but she liked his hair this way. It tickled her neck while he slept, a sensation she found to be rather pleasant. She realized then, that she missed Ron too. It seemed silly; she saw him every day. But she missed just being with him.
He looked up at her and frowned slightly. “Don’t you have lots of work to finish?” he asked. She didn’t hear any tension in his voice so she edged closer.
“I can’t concentrate. What are you doing?”
“Just going over some inventory lists for the shop that I meant to do last week. We’re already falling behind as it is. Hopefully we’ll catch up before the holiday crowds pick up.”
Hermione sat down on the bed. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Everything,” she said, waving her hands. “I’m starting to get a little envious here.”
“Everything?” he repeated, confusion etched on his face.
“Yeah. You help out at the shop and you’re in Auror Department and you take care of things around here. I think must be lacking quite a bit.”
“You’re not lacking. I just…got a bit better at balancing. Oh Merlin, I’m not becoming you, am I?”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a small smile. He smiled back. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting everything lately. All the important stuff.” She sighed and laid back on the bed.
“Your work is important. You’ve really done a lot for the Ministry, for everyone, really,” Ron said.
“I’m not talking about work. I meant you. And Harry and the rest of our family and friends. And all of the goals we had. We were supposed to have been moved out of this cramped flat by now,” said Hermione, biting her lip to keep from letting out all her worries out and piling on top of them.
“Well, we won’t be here forever. And everyone else is busy too, no one feels neglected, Hermione,” Ron said in the voice he used whenever he wanted to calm her nerves.
“Not even you? You’re most important to me, you know,” she said.
“Really? Wow, you really know how to make a bloke feel honored.” She swatted him on the arm. “Okay, no, I don’t feel neglected or anything of the sort. Hurt maybe, when you insult my cooking, but not neglected.”
She pulled a face at him. “We still argue a lot though. I don’t want our marriage to suffer because of it.”
“Hermione, you’re killing me here.” He flopped down next to her and propped himself up on his elbow. “Yes, we row, over stupid things most of the time too, it’s just what we do. I’d have thought you would’ve accepted that by now. Honestly, you can’t worry over every bleeding thing. You’ll drive yourself mad that way.”
“It doesn’t worry you at all?” she asked, not really understanding his thought process sometimes.
“Not really. If I worried as much as you, they’d have to put me in St. Mungo’s. I’d be completely loony.” He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her on the nose. “I guess one of us has to be a worrier.”
They lay like that for a while, keeping their fingers intertwined until Hermione broke the silence first. “All the same, I still don’t like it when we argue.”
“I don’t mind it so much,” Ron said casually.
“What?” she said, turning her head to the side to look at him.
“Especially when you get into it and your hair falls into your face and your skin starts to turn pink. Reminds of more favorable activities,” he said, grinning at her sideways.
She pulled another face at him and nudged him with her elbow. “Well no wonder you’re always trying to provoke me.”
“I’m not always trying to provoke you. You’re just easily provoked, is all.”
“I am not.”
“Oh really? Do you want to bet?”
“Oh you-” She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. He just laughed. “I am not,” she repeated calmly.
“If you say so, love. If you say so,” he chuckled.
******
Hermione ended up falling asleep next to Ron who, of course, didn’t bother to wake her until the next morning. She was behind on her work and running late. That continued into the rest of the week so that she always seemed to be behind, trying to catch up. Ron wasn’t much help when he was around; he would just say that she worked too hard or distract her with his long fingers and his perfect ears wishing there was some way she could use those particular body parts in her work.
It seemed like the work always piled up at the end of the year. She barely registered all the holiday buzz going on around her. She made lists of things she needed to do and then they were promptly pushed to the back of her mind or the back of the desk.
Ron finally managed to drag her away for lunch one afternoon. They went to a nearby chip shop, of course. She always found their fish to be a little on the greasy side so she ordered sausage. Ron just stared at her as though she were mad for even considering ordering something other than fish and chips in a fish and chip shop. She ignored him and dug into her own meal.
After Ron had sufficiently scarfed down half his meal, he paused, glancing at her. “What?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking…” he trailed off, looking at her expectantly.
“About what?”
“Us moving?”
“Where?” she said, confused.
“Out of our cramped little flat.”
“Oh, that. Well where to? Is there some bigger place already waiting for us to move in that I’m not aware of?”
“Well, no, not exactly, but there could be,” he finished, raising his eyebrows.
She wasn’t in the mood for any guessing games. “What did you have in mind, Ron?” she sighed.
“I’ve been doing a bit of looking and I think I may have found us a place,” he said slowly as though he weren’t sure of how she would react.
She just stared at him blankly. “You did?” He nodded. “When?”
“These past few weekends while you’ve been busy at work…I’ve had a bit of spare time so I thought it couldn’t hurt to look. I know it’s been on your mind but you just haven’t had much time so I figured it’d take a bit off you.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “So did you find anything nice?”
“Nothing too spectacular but we could make it our own.”
“That’d be nice.” She smiled at him. “You’re so thoughtful sometimes, Ron. I think you do too much.”
He shrugged and reached for one of her chips. “Can’t believe you didn’t order the fish and chips in a fish and chip shop. I always knew you were mad, woman.”
“You don’t have to order the fish and chips just because it’s a fish and chip shop. I don’t know how you can eat so much of it anyway. I think I need to introduce you to some new foods or we should mix it up and go for curry more often.”
“C’mon, Hermione, the golden brown color and that mouth watering fishy smell and the taste! I don’t know how you can resist it. I like to indulge myself a little. It’s not a crime.”
She snorted. “A little? There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint.”
“Mmm-hmm, says the woman who’s outstanding in the area of self-restraint. Yes, you show such admirable restraint when it comes to work,” he replied nonchalantly.
“That’s different. It’s my work.”
“Maybe I can pull some strings and get you a Time Turner so you can squeeze it all in,” he said jokingly.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, prodding him with her foot.
******
The next few weeks leading up to the holidays passed by in a colorful and snowy blur. Ron had strung up lights in their flat and on their small tree. Hermione did take care to wrap all the gifts herself one evening. She found doing such a mindless repetitive task to be calming. It seemed the pile of gifts got bigger every year as their family grew bigger.
Hermione thought of their first Christmas together after they had married. It had felt like such an occasion. They had dragged Harry out of bed and opened their gifts together. She had attempted to make her mum’s cinnamon cake with interesting results, luckily they’d had a better version later at her parents’ home for tea and then they’d all gone to the Burrow together to celebrate with all the Weasleys. A picture of their first married Christmas hung up on the tree now.
Christmas finally came and they carried on with some of their traditions from last year, minus the opening presents with Harry and Hermione attempting to make anything, she had forgotten to get the recipe for her mum’s bread pudding. The day ended at the Burrow with wrapping paper strewn everywhere. Andromeda had just taken Teddy home with his gifts in tow and the various small Weasley children had already been taken home or were asleep among the wrappings.
Harry was dozing on a corner of the sofa with his glasses askew. He didn’t get too much sleep these days between the Auror Department and Ginny being near her due date. Ginny sat next to Harry with her feet propped up and her third glass of eggnog. Hermione, who had been listening to the wireless with Molly, looked up as Ron entered the sitting room with Bill.
Ron cleared his throat. “Er, Hermione, I’ve been waiting until it was a bit quieter to give you your gift, and well, I-here,” he said, handing her a small box.
She took it from him and shook it. Something small hit the sides of the box.
“Don’t sit there shaking it, open it already,” Ron said. He glanced at Bill who just shook his head, looking amused.
“All right, I’m opening it. See.” She untied the bow and opened the lid. Everyone leaned forward curiously. It was a key. She held it up and stared up at him, confused.
“Thanks, Ron, but what’s it supposed to go to?”
“Well, it’s more of a symbolic gesture than anything. We’ll be putting up protective spells, of course.”
“Putting up protective spells to what?”
“Our house?”
“But we don’t have a--” She stopped and stared at him, wide eyed. “You didn’t?” she gasped.
He nodded, grinning now. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
“You-by yourself-a house?” she exclaimed. He seemed to mistake her horrified speechless shock for the good kind of speechless shock. “When? How?”
“Well, it was really very recent. I wasn’t sure whether it’d work out or not, but it all came together. I told you I’d been looking, which you said was thoughtful, and I know it’s been on your mind for some time…I thought that this would be ease things a bit for you…” Ron trailed, looking uncertain now, at her apparent lack of enthusiasm.
“But how could you just decide to--to do this without even talking to me first? It’s not as though you decided on spur of the moment to change our dinner plans for the evening; this is a major decision that is supposed to involve both of us,” she said, getting worked up now.
“I’m just trying to take care of you.”
‘Take care of me? Maybe I don’t need to be taken care of by you, you insensitive, foolish, completely obtuse…” she spluttered, not sure how to even finish.
Everyone seemed to retreat to the corners of the room. Bill shot Ron a sympathetic look and hurried into the kitchen. Harry stirred and adjusted his glasses. “What’s wrong? Ginny?”
“Right here,” Ginny replied. “Ron and Hermione are having a row. I think it’s time for us to get home now.”
Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and then said, “For the record, I told Ron the house thing wasn’t the greatest idea but he really thinks you’ll love it.”
Before Hermione could round on him next, Ginny spoke up, “Don’t start on him yet. He’s got to concentrate on getting me up and home. Wait till Christmas is over.”
Hermione turned back to Ron, but just settled for giving him a withering stare. She bade goodnight to the Weasleys and Ginny and Harry and then made to Disapparate home.
******
Hermione spent the next few days in stony silence whenever Ron was around. She just bit her lip when he tried to talk to her and glared at him. She knew if she spoke, all the things she’d been wanting to say would come pouring out completely jumbled and she wouldn’t get her point across. It would probably be best to get out whatever she wanted to say but she decided to wait until she felt a bit more calm about the situation though she wasn’t sure when that would be.
She couldn’t believe him! How he could do something like this without even consulting her, she didn’t know. She supposed he had her best interests at heart, but this was completely ludicrous and she couldn’t understand his thought process.
He wanted to take care of her. How could she ever match him? It seemed like he was doing all the giving and she could feel herself almost starting to resent the fact that it was always that way. Despite his foolishness, Ron was just naturally so caring. She didn’t know if she’d have enough to ever give back to him.
By the time the new year came around, Hermione finally relented and broke her silence. She didn’t really want to start the new year off not talking to her husband. She went up to him while he was making tea. “Will you make me a cup, please?”
“Course.” He looked at her. “So you’re talking to me now?”
“I suppose.” She took the cup he handed her and blew on it.
“So…do you want to at least see it?” he asked cautiously.
******
“Okay, Ron, so where is this house that you so lovingly picked out all by yourself?” Hermione said shrilly. She folded her arms to her chest tightly trying to keep her hands warm and look cross at the same time.
“Just up the way,” he said in his calming voice though she didn’t find it quite so calming at the moment. “I wanted you to see it properly for the first time.”
Hermione followed him, making sure to walk very slowly despite the cold. She couldn’t help but look around at the surrounding area. There were some houses much farther down the lane; she could see the holiday lights left up on the houses twinkling in the distance. It seemed almost homey.
She stopped walking when she caught up to Ron. It was much darker over here and she couldn’t make out anything beyond the shadows that the trees cast over the path. She hugged her arms tighter to herself and turned to look at Ron, but he had disappeared.
“Ron?” she called tensely.
“Take three steps forward and then stop,” she heard him shout from somewhere to her left.
She did so grudgingly. “All right, let’s see it, already,” she grumbled.
“Ready?” he called and then without waiting for a reply, a burst of golden lights shone down over her. It took her a moment to realize that they were coming from a modest white house that was directly in front of her just beyond the tree lined pathway.
At first, she thought the lights were Christmas lights strung up on the house, but it looked as though they were floating all around the house. The lights appeared to be shining over the entire house. It seemed as if they winking at her mischievously. The effect was rather dazzling.
She dragged her eyes away from all the lights to Ron who was watching with a cautiously hopeful look on his face. She wasn’t sure what to say; it was a bit overwhelming so she moved closer to the house. Once she got past the glittering lights, she noticed that the shutters and front door were painted blue. It looked like a fresh paint job compared to the rest of the house which had a weathered look and the paint was peeling in some places.
Hermione felt some of the anger and dizziness drain out of her. “So what does it look like inside?” she asked Ron.
He seemed pleased with that response and led her inside the house, giving her an enthusiastic tour of the place. There were three bedrooms upstairs with faded wallpaper and a kitchen that overlooked the back garden. A smaller room down the hall from the kitchen had book shelves lining one wall; she heard Ron say it could be expanded later and they could always add in more shelves. But she was already imagining her books lining the shelves. In the sitting room, there were more shelves on either side of the fire place and a wide window reflecting the twinkling lights from the outside.
She realized Ron had grown quiet and was waiting for her reply. She met his expectant stare. “It’s…lovely,” she said finally, surprising even herself. A grin broke out over Ron’s face. “But I’m still mad at you,” she added.
“But you like it, right?” he asked, still grinning like a prat.
“That’s beside the point. This is…it’s just absurd. I can’t believe you went ahead and did this all on your own with out taking my thoughts or concerns into consideration,” she fumed.
“Of course I took you into consideration. You’re what I thought of most while making the decision. I know what you like and you do like it.”
“If you really knew what I liked, then you wouldn’t have done this,” she said.
“But I did this for you,” he said. “To make things easier for you.”
“You mean to make things easier for you,” she snapped.
“Well, it does benefit me somewhat, yeah. But if things are easier for you, then they’re easier for me.”
“You’re always trying to make things easier for me and take care of me so I don’t have to worry so much, and I do appreciate, Ron, but there are certain things that I want to be apart of. Like this! I don’t want to feel like I’m missing out on important parts of our relationship. It seems like you do everything these days and I don’t do enough. It throws everything off balance,” Hermione explained, all the anger had worked its way out of her by the end of her rant and now she felt tired. She sat down on the cold floor and hugged her knees to her chest, drawing her cloak tighter around her.
“What do you have against me trying to take care of you?” Ron muttered.
“You’re just so…bloody good at it, makes me feel a bit inadequate sometimes,” she mumbled.
“Inadequate?” he repeated sounding annoyed.
“Marriage is supposed to be a partnership, isn’t it?” she shot back.
“Well, I’m not disagreeing with you but we’re also supposed to take care of each other and let ourselves be taken care of. You don’t have to do everything, Hermione. Maybe it seems like I’m doing a lot right now, but it shouldn’t be something you have to measure,” he said, his voice going soft now. “When we’re old and grey, are we going to sit around adding up who did what, and whoever ended up doing the most wins? No, we’re going to remember how often we ate fish and chips for dinner, and how often our rows led to a shag on the kitchen counter, and the first time we sent our future children off to Hogwarts. I’m going to remember how beautiful you looked on our wedding day and how I excited I was to know that we were going to be spending our lives together even if I, at some point, happen to forget the date.” He conjured a fire in the fireplace and sat down next to her.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione said, “I know marriages have their rough patches especially in the early days, but is it always going to be full of well intention but misguided deeds and foolish arguments and make us go completely round the twist sometimes?”
“I dunno, why don’t we ask my parents or your parents how barmy this’ll make us?” Ron replied.
“I think their answers might be something like yes.”
“Yeah.”
“But they seem to be doing okay.”
“They do.”
“Can’t you just indulge me and all my worries somewhat?” she asked.
“I think you give into them bit too much as it is,” he said. “There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint,” he said a pretty spot on imitation of her voice.
She just pulled a face at him.
There was another lapse of silence and then Ron spoke first, “If you’re really still upset about the house, I’ll try to see if I can fix--”
“No, I like the house. I still can’t quite believe this all and that you actually do know me so well. Did you paint those shutters and the door?”
“Yes. I thought you might like blue.”
She shivered and noticed Ron shivered slightly as well. “Still cold?” he asked.
She nodded but before he could do anything, she transfigured her coat into a blanket and wrapped it around both of them. They huddled closer together and Ron put his arm around her. She could feel herself warming up.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm.” She snuggled closer to him. “I think, when we’re old and grey, I’ll remember this.”
Title: A Little Left To Give
Author: MsChangifyourenasty (fai_believes)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 5,007
Prompt: "There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint." -- Gandhi (color: gold)
Summary: “I think, when we’re old and grey, I’ll remember this.”
The scent of her mum’s cinnamon cake wafted through the warm room. Hermione couldn’t wait to tuck in with a mug of hot chocolate afterwards. This was the only time of the year that her mum let her indulge and really enjoy proper sweets. And after they ate, her dad would read from his book of Christmas stories while she curled up by the fire near his legs. She just loved this time of year…
A knock at the door caused Hermione to wake with a start. She straightened up quickly looking around the room, her dreams of Christmases long since passed fading already, before realizing someone was the door.
“Yes?” she said, trying to sound alert to make up for the fact that she had just been asleep at her desk.
“Finish those reports yet? Great. Got some more for you,” said Roy Maes, a fellow coworker who always looked rather harried and spoke very quickly, dropping a stack of files on the edge of her desk. “Try to have those reports on four plus legged magical creature registration done by tomorrow morning so I can got those filed away into the system as soon as possible. Don’t want to fall behind anymore than we already are. Have a good evening.”
He was already out the door before she could respond, as usual. “Good evening to you too,” Hermione muttered to the empty room. She sighed and pulled the stack of files over to her, settling in for the evening.
******
Pushing open the door to their flat, Hermione dropped her bag on the floor and dragged herself the four short steps it took to walk over to the sofa so she could flop down onto it. She kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the cushions so she could stretch out and close her eyes. Just for a moment, she told herself.
She felt a pair of lips press against her forehead. She just grinned without opening her eyes, already seeing the face of her perfectly loving husband clearly.
“How was work?” he asked, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. “You still have your cloak on, must have been a bad day.”
“No, just a very long one,” she said, finally opening her eyes. “And I still have some things to go over.”
“Not until you get some food in you first. I picked up some fish and chips take away from our usual chip shop on my way home. I’ll heat it up,” Ron said, already in the kitchen.
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Hermione called back sleepily.
“Probably starve,” she heard him say.
Hermione pushed herself up off the sofa and shrugged off her cloak before sitting at the table. It was small like their kitchen but didn’t do anything to make to the room seem less cramped. Yet despite the tiny size of their flat, it still felt a bit empty without their former roommate.
Harry had moved out a few months ago when he and Ginny had married this past July. Hermione thought of those two with a smile-only weeks after they had married, they announced that they were expecting a baby. It wasn’t long before Ginny had started to show and now four later, Ginny looked as though were due very soon. Ginny had eventually confessed to her that she had known she was pregnant since April. She and Harry had wanted to get married before telling anyone, which explained their rush to get married this past spring, but Mrs. Weasley had wanted the chance to plan her only daughter’s wedding. Hermione was fairly certain everyone had already figured it all out especially Mrs. Weasley but everyone seemed to overlook that whenever the baby came up.
She was happy for them, of course, but it felt like she hardly ever saw them anymore. Occasionally she saw Harry at the Ministry but he was as busy as she was these days. Ron would sometimes fill her in on Harry but it wasn’t the same as seeing him at the breakfast table every morning. Hermione knew it couldn’t be like that forever, Harry had been talking of moving out since she and Ron had said they were getting married. But she didn’t think it would take so much getting used to.
She started when Ron placed a plate in front of her. The smell of fish and chips made her wrinkle her nose slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Ron.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked his brow creasing. He worried too easily over her these days, which worried her.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“Then what’s with the look?” he asked.
“It’s just…” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but she knew he wouldn’t be satisfied unless she told him whatever was bothering her. “Fish and chips again? Why does it seem like we’re always eating this?”
Ron shrugged. “I like fish and chips.”
Hermione sighed and a bit a chip in half. She was starting to regret introducing him to his first fish and chip shop that began this slight obsession he had. She ought to take him out for curry a bit more or anything that wasn’t fish and chips.
“You don’t have to eat if you don’t like it,” Ron said stiffly as though she had personally offended him.
“It’s not that I don’t like fish and chips, it’s just that I get a bit tired of eating it all the time, that’s all,” she said trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“Well, if you’re so bloody tired of it, then you could always do something about dinner once in a while,” he said through his teeth.
She knew that he was trying not to row with her so she tried not to be too difficult. “Never mind, Ron. It’s fine. Really.” She ate a few bites as enthusiastically as she could so he would stop wrinkling his brow.
“You don’t have to pretend, Hermione. I’ll make you something else if you want.”
“No, you already too much for me as it is. I don’t want you doing anything else,” she said without thinking. It was true. Ron always seemed to be taking care of her these days when it felt like she did so little for him.
He turned away from but she didn’t miss the hurt look cross his face. A look she’d seen too often lately, it seemed like.
“Ron,” she said, setting down her fork.
He went into the kitchen, making a lot noises with the dishes. He came out a few minutes later and sat across from her, eating his dinner without looking at her. She wanted to say something to get him back into a more pleasant mood or at least make him smile. But she never seemed to know the right thing to say anymore to put things right. And she was exhausted and not sure she was capable of making the effort.
They ate their dinner in silence and then Ron disappeared into their room while Hermione went into Harry’s old room, which had been converted into her study. Ron’s idea, of course, she thought with a frown. Things between them were becoming frightfully unbalanced. She tried to put a dent in some of her work but she couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t long before she threw her quill down in frustration. She would never be able to get any work done this way.
With a sigh, she rose from her spot and went to go seek out Ron. After all these years, she thought that she and Ron would be past childish bickering and cold silences, but they hadn’t quite been able to break that habit, and their not talking bothered as much as it ever did.
Ron was sitting on the bed looking over some documents and making little side notes here and there. His head was bent towards the page so that his hair hung in face and she couldn’t see his eyes. She knew he’d probably trim up soon before Mrs. Weasley could be after him with her wand, but she liked his hair this way. It tickled her neck while he slept, a sensation she found to be rather pleasant. She realized then, that she missed Ron too. It seemed silly; she saw him every day. But she missed just being with him.
He looked up at her and frowned slightly. “Don’t you have lots of work to finish?” he asked. She didn’t hear any tension in his voice so she edged closer.
“I can’t concentrate. What are you doing?”
“Just going over some inventory lists for the shop that I meant to do last week. We’re already falling behind as it is. Hopefully we’ll catch up before the holiday crowds pick up.”
Hermione sat down on the bed. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Everything,” she said, waving her hands. “I’m starting to get a little envious here.”
“Everything?” he repeated, confusion etched on his face.
“Yeah. You help out at the shop and you’re in Auror Department and you take care of things around here. I think must be lacking quite a bit.”
“You’re not lacking. I just…got a bit better at balancing. Oh Merlin, I’m not becoming you, am I?”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a small smile. He smiled back. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting everything lately. All the important stuff.” She sighed and laid back on the bed.
“Your work is important. You’ve really done a lot for the Ministry, for everyone, really,” Ron said.
“I’m not talking about work. I meant you. And Harry and the rest of our family and friends. And all of the goals we had. We were supposed to have been moved out of this cramped flat by now,” said Hermione, biting her lip to keep from letting out all her worries out and piling on top of them.
“Well, we won’t be here forever. And everyone else is busy too, no one feels neglected, Hermione,” Ron said in the voice he used whenever he wanted to calm her nerves.
“Not even you? You’re most important to me, you know,” she said.
“Really? Wow, you really know how to make a bloke feel honored.” She swatted him on the arm. “Okay, no, I don’t feel neglected or anything of the sort. Hurt maybe, when you insult my cooking, but not neglected.”
She pulled a face at him. “We still argue a lot though. I don’t want our marriage to suffer because of it.”
“Hermione, you’re killing me here.” He flopped down next to her and propped himself up on his elbow. “Yes, we row, over stupid things most of the time too, it’s just what we do. I’d have thought you would’ve accepted that by now. Honestly, you can’t worry over every bleeding thing. You’ll drive yourself mad that way.”
“It doesn’t worry you at all?” she asked, not really understanding his thought process sometimes.
“Not really. If I worried as much as you, they’d have to put me in St. Mungo’s. I’d be completely loony.” He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her on the nose. “I guess one of us has to be a worrier.”
They lay like that for a while, keeping their fingers intertwined until Hermione broke the silence first. “All the same, I still don’t like it when we argue.”
“I don’t mind it so much,” Ron said casually.
“What?” she said, turning her head to the side to look at him.
“Especially when you get into it and your hair falls into your face and your skin starts to turn pink. Reminds of more favorable activities,” he said, grinning at her sideways.
She pulled another face at him and nudged him with her elbow. “Well no wonder you’re always trying to provoke me.”
“I’m not always trying to provoke you. You’re just easily provoked, is all.”
“I am not.”
“Oh really? Do you want to bet?”
“Oh you-” She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. He just laughed. “I am not,” she repeated calmly.
“If you say so, love. If you say so,” he chuckled.
******
Hermione ended up falling asleep next to Ron who, of course, didn’t bother to wake her until the next morning. She was behind on her work and running late. That continued into the rest of the week so that she always seemed to be behind, trying to catch up. Ron wasn’t much help when he was around; he would just say that she worked too hard or distract her with his long fingers and his perfect ears wishing there was some way she could use those particular body parts in her work.
It seemed like the work always piled up at the end of the year. She barely registered all the holiday buzz going on around her. She made lists of things she needed to do and then they were promptly pushed to the back of her mind or the back of the desk.
Ron finally managed to drag her away for lunch one afternoon. They went to a nearby chip shop, of course. She always found their fish to be a little on the greasy side so she ordered sausage. Ron just stared at her as though she were mad for even considering ordering something other than fish and chips in a fish and chip shop. She ignored him and dug into her own meal.
After Ron had sufficiently scarfed down half his meal, he paused, glancing at her. “What?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking…” he trailed off, looking at her expectantly.
“About what?”
“Us moving?”
“Where?” she said, confused.
“Out of our cramped little flat.”
“Oh, that. Well where to? Is there some bigger place already waiting for us to move in that I’m not aware of?”
“Well, no, not exactly, but there could be,” he finished, raising his eyebrows.
She wasn’t in the mood for any guessing games. “What did you have in mind, Ron?” she sighed.
“I’ve been doing a bit of looking and I think I may have found us a place,” he said slowly as though he weren’t sure of how she would react.
She just stared at him blankly. “You did?” He nodded. “When?”
“These past few weekends while you’ve been busy at work…I’ve had a bit of spare time so I thought it couldn’t hurt to look. I know it’s been on your mind but you just haven’t had much time so I figured it’d take a bit off you.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “So did you find anything nice?”
“Nothing too spectacular but we could make it our own.”
“That’d be nice.” She smiled at him. “You’re so thoughtful sometimes, Ron. I think you do too much.”
He shrugged and reached for one of her chips. “Can’t believe you didn’t order the fish and chips in a fish and chip shop. I always knew you were mad, woman.”
“You don’t have to order the fish and chips just because it’s a fish and chip shop. I don’t know how you can eat so much of it anyway. I think I need to introduce you to some new foods or we should mix it up and go for curry more often.”
“C’mon, Hermione, the golden brown color and that mouth watering fishy smell and the taste! I don’t know how you can resist it. I like to indulge myself a little. It’s not a crime.”
She snorted. “A little? There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint.”
“Mmm-hmm, says the woman who’s outstanding in the area of self-restraint. Yes, you show such admirable restraint when it comes to work,” he replied nonchalantly.
“That’s different. It’s my work.”
“Maybe I can pull some strings and get you a Time Turner so you can squeeze it all in,” he said jokingly.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, prodding him with her foot.
******
The next few weeks leading up to the holidays passed by in a colorful and snowy blur. Ron had strung up lights in their flat and on their small tree. Hermione did take care to wrap all the gifts herself one evening. She found doing such a mindless repetitive task to be calming. It seemed the pile of gifts got bigger every year as their family grew bigger.
Hermione thought of their first Christmas together after they had married. It had felt like such an occasion. They had dragged Harry out of bed and opened their gifts together. She had attempted to make her mum’s cinnamon cake with interesting results, luckily they’d had a better version later at her parents’ home for tea and then they’d all gone to the Burrow together to celebrate with all the Weasleys. A picture of their first married Christmas hung up on the tree now.
Christmas finally came and they carried on with some of their traditions from last year, minus the opening presents with Harry and Hermione attempting to make anything, she had forgotten to get the recipe for her mum’s bread pudding. The day ended at the Burrow with wrapping paper strewn everywhere. Andromeda had just taken Teddy home with his gifts in tow and the various small Weasley children had already been taken home or were asleep among the wrappings.
Harry was dozing on a corner of the sofa with his glasses askew. He didn’t get too much sleep these days between the Auror Department and Ginny being near her due date. Ginny sat next to Harry with her feet propped up and her third glass of eggnog. Hermione, who had been listening to the wireless with Molly, looked up as Ron entered the sitting room with Bill.
Ron cleared his throat. “Er, Hermione, I’ve been waiting until it was a bit quieter to give you your gift, and well, I-here,” he said, handing her a small box.
She took it from him and shook it. Something small hit the sides of the box.
“Don’t sit there shaking it, open it already,” Ron said. He glanced at Bill who just shook his head, looking amused.
“All right, I’m opening it. See.” She untied the bow and opened the lid. Everyone leaned forward curiously. It was a key. She held it up and stared up at him, confused.
“Thanks, Ron, but what’s it supposed to go to?”
“Well, it’s more of a symbolic gesture than anything. We’ll be putting up protective spells, of course.”
“Putting up protective spells to what?”
“Our house?”
“But we don’t have a--” She stopped and stared at him, wide eyed. “You didn’t?” she gasped.
He nodded, grinning now. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
“You-by yourself-a house?” she exclaimed. He seemed to mistake her horrified speechless shock for the good kind of speechless shock. “When? How?”
“Well, it was really very recent. I wasn’t sure whether it’d work out or not, but it all came together. I told you I’d been looking, which you said was thoughtful, and I know it’s been on your mind for some time…I thought that this would be ease things a bit for you…” Ron trailed, looking uncertain now, at her apparent lack of enthusiasm.
“But how could you just decide to--to do this without even talking to me first? It’s not as though you decided on spur of the moment to change our dinner plans for the evening; this is a major decision that is supposed to involve both of us,” she said, getting worked up now.
“I’m just trying to take care of you.”
‘Take care of me? Maybe I don’t need to be taken care of by you, you insensitive, foolish, completely obtuse…” she spluttered, not sure how to even finish.
Everyone seemed to retreat to the corners of the room. Bill shot Ron a sympathetic look and hurried into the kitchen. Harry stirred and adjusted his glasses. “What’s wrong? Ginny?”
“Right here,” Ginny replied. “Ron and Hermione are having a row. I think it’s time for us to get home now.”
Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and then said, “For the record, I told Ron the house thing wasn’t the greatest idea but he really thinks you’ll love it.”
Before Hermione could round on him next, Ginny spoke up, “Don’t start on him yet. He’s got to concentrate on getting me up and home. Wait till Christmas is over.”
Hermione turned back to Ron, but just settled for giving him a withering stare. She bade goodnight to the Weasleys and Ginny and Harry and then made to Disapparate home.
******
Hermione spent the next few days in stony silence whenever Ron was around. She just bit her lip when he tried to talk to her and glared at him. She knew if she spoke, all the things she’d been wanting to say would come pouring out completely jumbled and she wouldn’t get her point across. It would probably be best to get out whatever she wanted to say but she decided to wait until she felt a bit more calm about the situation though she wasn’t sure when that would be.
She couldn’t believe him! How he could do something like this without even consulting her, she didn’t know. She supposed he had her best interests at heart, but this was completely ludicrous and she couldn’t understand his thought process.
He wanted to take care of her. How could she ever match him? It seemed like he was doing all the giving and she could feel herself almost starting to resent the fact that it was always that way. Despite his foolishness, Ron was just naturally so caring. She didn’t know if she’d have enough to ever give back to him.
By the time the new year came around, Hermione finally relented and broke her silence. She didn’t really want to start the new year off not talking to her husband. She went up to him while he was making tea. “Will you make me a cup, please?”
“Course.” He looked at her. “So you’re talking to me now?”
“I suppose.” She took the cup he handed her and blew on it.
“So…do you want to at least see it?” he asked cautiously.
******
“Okay, Ron, so where is this house that you so lovingly picked out all by yourself?” Hermione said shrilly. She folded her arms to her chest tightly trying to keep her hands warm and look cross at the same time.
“Just up the way,” he said in his calming voice though she didn’t find it quite so calming at the moment. “I wanted you to see it properly for the first time.”
Hermione followed him, making sure to walk very slowly despite the cold. She couldn’t help but look around at the surrounding area. There were some houses much farther down the lane; she could see the holiday lights left up on the houses twinkling in the distance. It seemed almost homey.
She stopped walking when she caught up to Ron. It was much darker over here and she couldn’t make out anything beyond the shadows that the trees cast over the path. She hugged her arms tighter to herself and turned to look at Ron, but he had disappeared.
“Ron?” she called tensely.
“Take three steps forward and then stop,” she heard him shout from somewhere to her left.
She did so grudgingly. “All right, let’s see it, already,” she grumbled.
“Ready?” he called and then without waiting for a reply, a burst of golden lights shone down over her. It took her a moment to realize that they were coming from a modest white house that was directly in front of her just beyond the tree lined pathway.
At first, she thought the lights were Christmas lights strung up on the house, but it looked as though they were floating all around the house. The lights appeared to be shining over the entire house. It seemed as if they winking at her mischievously. The effect was rather dazzling.
She dragged her eyes away from all the lights to Ron who was watching with a cautiously hopeful look on his face. She wasn’t sure what to say; it was a bit overwhelming so she moved closer to the house. Once she got past the glittering lights, she noticed that the shutters and front door were painted blue. It looked like a fresh paint job compared to the rest of the house which had a weathered look and the paint was peeling in some places.
Hermione felt some of the anger and dizziness drain out of her. “So what does it look like inside?” she asked Ron.
He seemed pleased with that response and led her inside the house, giving her an enthusiastic tour of the place. There were three bedrooms upstairs with faded wallpaper and a kitchen that overlooked the back garden. A smaller room down the hall from the kitchen had book shelves lining one wall; she heard Ron say it could be expanded later and they could always add in more shelves. But she was already imagining her books lining the shelves. In the sitting room, there were more shelves on either side of the fire place and a wide window reflecting the twinkling lights from the outside.
She realized Ron had grown quiet and was waiting for her reply. She met his expectant stare. “It’s…lovely,” she said finally, surprising even herself. A grin broke out over Ron’s face. “But I’m still mad at you,” she added.
“But you like it, right?” he asked, still grinning like a prat.
“That’s beside the point. This is…it’s just absurd. I can’t believe you went ahead and did this all on your own with out taking my thoughts or concerns into consideration,” she fumed.
“Of course I took you into consideration. You’re what I thought of most while making the decision. I know what you like and you do like it.”
“If you really knew what I liked, then you wouldn’t have done this,” she said.
“But I did this for you,” he said. “To make things easier for you.”
“You mean to make things easier for you,” she snapped.
“Well, it does benefit me somewhat, yeah. But if things are easier for you, then they’re easier for me.”
“You’re always trying to make things easier for me and take care of me so I don’t have to worry so much, and I do appreciate, Ron, but there are certain things that I want to be apart of. Like this! I don’t want to feel like I’m missing out on important parts of our relationship. It seems like you do everything these days and I don’t do enough. It throws everything off balance,” Hermione explained, all the anger had worked its way out of her by the end of her rant and now she felt tired. She sat down on the cold floor and hugged her knees to her chest, drawing her cloak tighter around her.
“What do you have against me trying to take care of you?” Ron muttered.
“You’re just so…bloody good at it, makes me feel a bit inadequate sometimes,” she mumbled.
“Inadequate?” he repeated sounding annoyed.
“Marriage is supposed to be a partnership, isn’t it?” she shot back.
“Well, I’m not disagreeing with you but we’re also supposed to take care of each other and let ourselves be taken care of. You don’t have to do everything, Hermione. Maybe it seems like I’m doing a lot right now, but it shouldn’t be something you have to measure,” he said, his voice going soft now. “When we’re old and grey, are we going to sit around adding up who did what, and whoever ended up doing the most wins? No, we’re going to remember how often we ate fish and chips for dinner, and how often our rows led to a shag on the kitchen counter, and the first time we sent our future children off to Hogwarts. I’m going to remember how beautiful you looked on our wedding day and how I excited I was to know that we were going to be spending our lives together even if I, at some point, happen to forget the date.” He conjured a fire in the fireplace and sat down next to her.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione said, “I know marriages have their rough patches especially in the early days, but is it always going to be full of well intention but misguided deeds and foolish arguments and make us go completely round the twist sometimes?”
“I dunno, why don’t we ask my parents or your parents how barmy this’ll make us?” Ron replied.
“I think their answers might be something like yes.”
“Yeah.”
“But they seem to be doing okay.”
“They do.”
“Can’t you just indulge me and all my worries somewhat?” she asked.
“I think you give into them bit too much as it is,” he said. “There are limits to self-indulgence, none to self-restraint,” he said a pretty spot on imitation of her voice.
She just pulled a face at him.
There was another lapse of silence and then Ron spoke first, “If you’re really still upset about the house, I’ll try to see if I can fix--”
“No, I like the house. I still can’t quite believe this all and that you actually do know me so well. Did you paint those shutters and the door?”
“Yes. I thought you might like blue.”
She shivered and noticed Ron shivered slightly as well. “Still cold?” he asked.
She nodded but before he could do anything, she transfigured her coat into a blanket and wrapped it around both of them. They huddled closer together and Ron put his arm around her. She could feel herself warming up.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm.” She snuggled closer to him. “I think, when we’re old and grey, I’ll remember this.”