Who: Ron and Hermione
When: February 14, 2007
Where: Their flat
Status: In progress
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: Hermione is less than pleased when she receives her Valentine's gift.
"At work, Ron!" Hermione cried the instant she arrived home. She had the roses in her arms and the box that he had sent her earlier that day. Her cheeks were red and her
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He'd expected her to lay into him for the fact the kitchen was a disaster. Food stuff's everywhere (that would teach him to attempt to cook with Muggle devices), pots piled in the sink- and a foul odor coming from the disposal. He had not, however, expected to be hit in the head with the box. Blinking in confusion, Ron's self-defensiveness kicked in and he immediately opened his mouth to counter, ears red and eyes darkening. "Oi! Wha's wrong with at work?! I thought you wanted a surprise!!" He blinked, hoping that was what this was about- he'd interrupted her precious work schedule.
Ron was covered head to toe in flour, his cheeks dark from soot, and the apron he wore covered in..well, an unidentifiable substance.
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"If you think it's perfectly appropriate to send somebody undergarments to their workplace, then I suppose it would be fine for me to send you a nice, bright red pair of knickers tomorrow, complete with suspenders and fishnet stockings? Oh, and I'll send flowers with them, too, get everyone's attention, so every employee at the Ministry can crowd around you as you open the box! How does that sound, Ron?"
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He knew this was a horrible idea. He'd kill Harry for it later. His eyes darted to the furball under the couch as if daring the feline to try and get in the middle of all this. He'd been glaring at Ron all day as he tried to cook- fecking cat. "That's the last time I ever do anything to surprise you again, how's that!?"
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She moved to the apron and picked it up, setting it in the sink. Whatever it was that was on it, she didn't want it all over the floor. "Look, Ron, it's not that I don't appreciate the gift, but... honestly! At work?!" she looked around the kitchen. "And what did you do in here?!"
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Of course, Ron knew it was the worst possible thing he could do at the moment, but..he was mad! He'd worked hard on this, and she had given him not even a bloody thank you!
She didn't even get HIM anything! Oi, Ron regretted going through the effort now, realizing that not only did it really not matter, but it had done anything BUT help.
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"What are you?" she demanded, flicking her wand at the mess, though not to clean it up. "Four? I'd expect this from a toddler, not a grown man." On the contrary, Hermione had done something for him for the holiday, but now that he'd went and pulled that, she wasn't going to give it to him, not without a proper apology.
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"Yeah, well I'd expect a toddler would at least appreciate someone doing something NICE for them, huh!?" He could act immature if she wanted- though the smell of something burning and smoke wafting from the stove quickly drew his attention.
A cloud of black had grown over the appliance and Ron almost expected it to burst into flames- well, it did. At least the inside did. Oh, this was NOT happening! "Fecking, hell! Aquamenti!" A jet of water spouted from the end of his wand over the oven, of course splashing Hermione in the process, not that Ron cared at this point.
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He was quickly at the stove, though, and Hermione shook her head with disbelief at what he had done. She could have screamed, she was so frustrated. She watched him for a moment, debating whether or not she should help him, but then figured that if their flat burn down, it would just be one more thing that she could blame on him. She stomped off and flopped down on the couch. Crookshanks guessed that it was safe for the moment and hopped up, carefully, moving onto her lap and rubbing his head against her hand comfortingly. She kissed the cat's head and sighed.
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A few minutes later, Ron was stepping out into the living room, glaring at her and her dumb cat, arms crossed and teeth clenched. "So that's it?" he waited for her to answer, or even look at him. "You're just going to shout out then go crying to the fecking cat? Again?"
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"I already told you, Ron, it's not that I don't appreciate what you've done for me, I just don't understand what came over you to send me lingerie to my work. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, you forgot all about today until someone mentioned it at work."
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Ron was hurt. Even if it was the truth. With a sigh and a groan, he shook his head, marching for the door. "Forget it. Fucking forget it. I'm going to get a drink. When I get back- oh..fuck it!" He all but slammed the door open, stepping outside and into the hallway, needing to walk and a good, strong shot at this point.
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She shoved a handmade card into his hand then stepped back, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I made it years ago to give to you, but I never could." She said, looking away from him, her jaw set. It was a card she had made when she was younger, on a whim before one of the Valentine holidays at Hogwarts. She could, of course, never muster up the courage to give it to him. Now that they were married, she figured it was as good a time as any. She didn't think it was much, but she did get rather mushy inside the card, about how much she cared about him. It was dated for 1996. She added 2007 next to it and added a few more words about how much she loved him. It was sentimental, the kind of thing that made Hermione sick, and she was sure that it showed a great amount of effort on her part, even if it wasn't much of a gift.
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"...You're cheating." He muttered and glared at her, though it wasn't nearly as harsh as before. "And it's not fair!" He sounded more like a whiny child than a grown man. "Fuck..oh, fuck it!" Ron rolled his eyes and before she could utter a word, he was kissing her. Hard, like he'd done the first time, arms around her waist all but lifting her up. It was the only thing he could think to do with all the emotions flooding through him. Sex or bickering. It was their best ways of communication. Or, at least it seemed to work for them.
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After backing herself up against the wall, she pulled her mouth from his, her hand resting against his cheek. She took a breath and kept her eyes closed, not daring to meet his eyes, for fear of completely losing herself.
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His arms were around her, and as she backed into the hall, he didn't even seem to notice they were in the halls. His hands had crept to her rear, hoisting her up just a few inches, pinning her there until she pulled back and touched his cheek.
Shit. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was- well..he had never really, but he'd forgotten how hot she could be when her face was flushed and her eyes were dark. His breath was heavy on her lips. "I forgot how gorgeous you were when you were being a bitch." He meant it as a compliment, though it might not have comed out that way.
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