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Title: Who Said It Was Easy? – Part 2
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Ron and Hermione during that first year after Hermione is back form Hogwarts.
Word Count: 1415
Beta: [info]exartemarte
Warnings: Lots of fluff.
Summary: Hermione tries to surprise Ron but it doesn't go quite as planned.
A/N: Originally written for [info]urbanmama1 who bid for this on the community [info]helpbrazil2011. Not as late as part one, but still... it's embarrassing. I think I'll write at least one more part of these (even if it was supposed to be 2000 words total). [[Here's Part 1]]

Ron glanced at the clock for the tenth time in five minutes. He tried to focus on the papers in front of him and make good use of the thirty minutes he still had ahead before he could rush off to his apartment. Hermione had promised a surprise and his mind raced trying to figure out what it could be. More often than not, his guessing process ended with images of her naked wearing just his Chudley Cannon socks and Honeydukes' melted chocolate smeared in interested places.

Thankfully, today's tasks consisted of nothing but paperwork. Ron normally dreaded days like this, but he was so excited he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on a mission or deal with life-or-death situations.

"Ron, would you relax? Tapping your foot on the floor like that won't make time go faster," Harry whispered loudly. Their desks were right next to each other, only separated by a thin wall that barely reached half of Ron's chest when he was standing up.

"Well, I can't help it, can I? How would you feel if... if..." Just the thought of his sister doing to Harry any of the things he imagined Hermione doing to him made him want to have an aneurism. "Never mind," he muttered, sighing in defeat and trying to complete the form in front of him.

"Mr. Weasley, you have a call. Fireplace number 325," said Maxindra, the floor secretary. "Family emergency."

Ron stood up immediately, looking worriedly at Harry whose face paled as well. What could have happened? He ran to the fireplace indicated and knelt in front of it, seeing a very distressed but slightly amused George.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

George stifled a laugh. "I really don't know. Your bird has gone bonkers, Ronniekins. I was enjoying the amusing soundtrack of clattering pots and muttered curses coming from upstairs, but now there's smoke coming out of our apartment and I would like to keep my place not so coal-like if you know what I mean."

"What? Is she all right?"

"Well, I went to check but she screamed at me to get the hell out of there if I valued my 'future babies maker'," George said, shuddering but never letting the smile fall from his face. "She scared the crap out of my customers so I'm closing the shop for the day and spend the night at Angie's."

"Okay. I'll be there in a minute."

"My property had better be in one piece when I get back tomorrow, Ron!" George threatened before ending the communication, the threat losing some credibility as he failed to suppress a chuckle.

Ron went back to his desk to grab his coat.

"What's happened?" asked Harry anxiously.

"I don't know. Something about Hermione cursing and smoke coming from upstairs..." he said shaking his head. "I'll have to go."

"Okay. Let me know if she's all right," Ron heard Harry say as he rushed to the Apparition point.


To Ron's surprise, for the first time ever, George wasn't joking. The shop was half filled with dark smoke that came through the stairs leading to their apartment. As he made his way upstairs, the sounds of pots, things falling and – Oh, no – curses became louder. Nothing meant trouble like Hermione cursing. Suppressing a shudder, Ron banged on the locked door.

"Hermione! Open up!"

"Ron?!" Hermione's voice sounded really distraught, making him even more worried. "What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be here for another half hour! I still ha—Aaaahh!!"

"Hermione! Are you okay?! Open the bloody door or I'm gonna bust—" Before he could say another word, the door opened and revealed a wild looking Hermione.

Her hair was bushier than ever, her face was covered with flour and some kind of red sauce, and she was wearing an apron that was burnt at the bottom. Hermione looked like a complete mess; however, Ron couldn't find it in him to laugh as he would have done under other circumstances. Her bottom lip was quivering a bit and he noticed she was holding one hand tightly with the other. He took a long step forward and hugged her tightly to his chest, caressing her untamed hair.

"I burnt my hand," she practically whimpered, making his heart break a little.

"Let me see," he said quietly, taking her small hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you're okay," Ron whispered, pressing his face against the top of her head. "George scared the crap out of me."

Hermione just buried her head in his chest and didn't say anything for a while until a small whimper escaped her lips. "I don't deserve you," she said in a small voice.

If Ron hadn't actually felt her hot breath against his shirt, he would have thought he had imagined her saying those words. "What? How can you ever think that?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Well, how could I? I'm the worst girlfriend in history!" she said stepping away from him and pacing around the small hallway next to the door. "I cannot even cook a homemade dinner for you. You!" she exclaimed, playing with her hair and making it crazier by the second. "Of all the people..." She chuckled in disbelief.

As Ron stood there, he wasn't sure whether she was insulting him or... Oh, Merlin. She was regretting being with him. She didn't love him! He'd feared this day might come but that didn't make the blow less painful. Ron watched her hopelessly as he tried to recover the breath that had been knocked right out of him.

"The girl who cannot cook even if life depended on it falls in love with the one man who loves eating more than breathing! Talk about irony," she finished with a humourless laugh.

Her words repeated in his head over and over again. "Falls in love"... That meant... For the second time in the last ten minutes he breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione loved him. She still loved him. So much so that she would burn her hand attempting to surprise him with dinner she had prepared from scratch.

In one stride and with a huge smile on his face, Ron pressed his hands on either side of Hermione's face and started kissing her deeply. Her soft lips parted as she gasped in surprise and he instantly thrust his tongue to caress hers, earning a moan that sent goosebumps down his arms.

The smartest, kindest and most beautiful witch to ever live was putty in his hands as he kissed her brains out for loving him enough to cook. Ron knew how much Hermione hated exposing her weaknesses – not that she had many – and cooking was definitely not her forte.

Way too soon for his liking, the need to breathe made it impossible for them to continue snogging. Pressing their foreheads together, he savoured the sight of a flushed and breathless Hermione in front of him.

"You cooked dinner for me?" His face was going to break from grinning so widely.

She bit on her lower lip in embarrassment, making him groan. She was sexy without even trying and the simplest things could set his pulse racing.

"I burnt dinner," she muttered, pouting without even realising.

He chuckled. "I'm sure it's not that bad," he tried to console her. He kissed her softly. "Thank you. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"No, I'm not. I ruined your surprise and almost set your and your brother's kitchen on fire."

Ron smiled adoringly at her, gently caressing her soft cheeks with his thumbs. "Good thing you're the brightest witch of our age then," he said with a wink. "I love you, Hermione. To me, you're the best girlfriend I could ever ask for because it's you, with or without cooking." She slapped him playfully, making him laugh. "C'mon. I'm sure it's not that bad," he said, sliding his arms around her waist and walking to the kitchen.

It was a war zone: worse than Hogwarts after The Final Battle. Hermione must have seen the shock in his face and groaned loudly in despair.

"I told you!" she cried, burying her face against his arm.

"D-don't worry. It- We can-" he sighed in defeat. There was no way around this. "Well, look at it this way, here's another chance for you to teach me how to use the fellytone and order the Muggle delivery stuff!"
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