Chapter Text
Hermione was not a girly girl. She considered logic and practicality more important than vapid things like make up and fashion. But she was a young woman and she did want to look good for her husband. Husband! It had been a year since she and Ron became husband and wife and it still thrilled her to say it out loud. She hoped her husband would like how she looked tonight; they were celebrating their first anniversary and she wanted to look beautiful. Ron had handled all the plans and only told her to be ready by 7pm and “dress to impress”. It was 6:55pm, she gave herself one more look in the mirror and was satisfied. She exited their bedroom, walked into the lounge where Ron’s back was to her and cleared her throat to get his attention.
“Early, just as I suspected,” he said as he turned around to see her and the next word died on his tongue. He didn’t know how she did it but Hermione could look both sophisticated and sexy at one time. Her dress was a beautiful green color which was hitting her curves in a way that made him want to take it off. She knew he liked her hair down so it was pulled half up and her curls cascaded down her back. He knew she didn’t love wearing make-up but she had a little on tonight, including something shiny on her lips which was drawing his attention.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered as he crossed the room to her in a single bound. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck making her giggle, something she only did in his presence. “You are the most beautiful women. How did I get so lucky?”
“You clean up nice too,” she responded. He was dressed in a Muggle suit that fit him like a dream. Since becoming an Auror and earning a good living he insisted his clothes fit properly after a youth filled with ill-fitting hand-me-downs. Not to mention his body was impressive given the physical regimen he had to follow for his career. All in all, they were a handsome couple.
“So,” she asked before they abandoned their plans for the bedroom, “Where are you taking me?”
Ron removed his lips from where he had been nibbling on her ear and smiled at her. “It’s a surprise. But I suspect you’ll be happy.” He glanced at his watch and jumped slightly. “And we have to go. Take my hand please.” She smiled at him, took his hand and he apparated them away. She found herself in an alley in Muggle London. “Come on, Mrs. Weasley,” he tugged her hand, “We have a reservation to keep.”
Since they got together, they ventured into Muggle London more often and Ron had gotten much more comfortable with it. The magical world still treated them like celebrities and they came to appreciate the privacy the Muggle world provided for them.
They turned a corner and he walked them into an intimate, French bistro; it was a very romantic setting. He spoke with the host who led them to their table by the window which already had champagne on ice. Ron pulled out Hermione’s chair and kissed her gently on the lips. Once he was seated, he held her hands and said, “Happy Anniversary, love.” And one of the best evenings of Hermione’s life began.
After an amazing dinner, dessert and champagne; they took a romantic stroll around London. They talked about their past, their future, their hopes and dreams. It was perfect. When Ron kissed her by the Thames where they had been walking, the intensity picked up quick; one wolf whistle from a passerby reminded them they were in public. He whispered, in the husky voice that always undid her, “I need you, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Feeling’s mutual Mr. Weasley. Can you apparate us?” She asked.
“Absolutely.” He tugged her arm to a small alley, checked they were alone and turned on the spot.
If it was possible to disrobe someone mid-apparation, then Ron would have. Needless to say by the time the couple arrived in their lounge they were making short work of their clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Clad only in under garments, Ron grabbed Hermione’s backside and lifted her up; consequently she wrapped her legs around his waist and he led them to their bedroom, never removing his lips from his wife’s.
Sometime later, after enthusiastic love making, they were wrapped in each other’s arms. Ron, who was spooning Hermione, nuzzled her ear while she traced mindless shapes on his arm wrapped around her waist.
“Tonight was perfect, Ron. Thank you so much.” She sighed.
“You deserve nothing less, love.” He replied as he kissed her neck eliciting a moan from his wife. But the moan quickly morphed into a sigh when she remembered what was happening tomorrow morning.
“I wish you didn’t have to go on this mission, Ron. I mean you came home from the last one not even 3 weeks ago and you have to go again. Are you sure they aren’t taking advantage of you and Harry?”
She hated to sound like a whining wife but he had been gone quite a bit lately and it was starting to feel like every mission that required an extended period away from home, he was called for it.
“I know, love, but Harry and I are still the youngest members of the Auror Corps and we have to earn our stripes. The new recruits join the ranks in a few weeks and then they can start taking more of these missions.”
She continued to trace his arm and nodded in silent understanding.
“Not to mention, we’re tracking Alexis Dolohov. And she has gone mental since Antonin was killed earlier this year. She’s got to be stopped.”
Hermione’s shivered ever so slightly remembering when Ron came home from a mission about 6 months earlier happily announcing the death of Antonin Dolohov. Not only was he one of the Death Eaters they had been diligently searching for since the end of the war but Ron wanted a piece of his downfall after what he did to Hermione in the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year. The scar that ran between her breasts and to her abdomen was constant source of insecurity for Hermione and Ron hated that for her. The plan, obviously, was not to kill Dolohov but when Ron shot off a spell that collapsed a wall, he happened to be crushed by the rubble. Dolohov’s devoted wife Alexis was enraged at the loss of her husband and since was leading a group of new Death Eaters. They were responsible for kidnappings and tortures of Muggle borns all around England. Luckily no one had died yet but the Aurors knew it was just a matter of time.
“I know,” Hermione said placing gentle kisses on her husband’s large and calloused hands. “She’s going to kill someone soon; she has to be stopped.”
She turned around to face her husband, “And I know you want to stop her.” She cupped his left cheek and rubbed her thumb down his jaw, “Just promise you’ll come back to me.”
He looked deeply into her chocolate brown eyes, “I will. I promise.” He leaned in and kissed her. She quickly deepened it, rolled him to his back and straddled him.
“How about I remind you what’s waiting for you at home?” She said with a seductive smirk.
“Yes, please, remind me.” He just got out his reply before she eased on top of his hardened length. “Hermione,” he hissed as she slowly rocked on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him, sucking his bottom lip.
“Come back to me,” she repeated.
“Always,” he moaned. There was no more talking just passion and bliss.