Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, places, or things- those belong to J. K. Rowling. Also, I don't know if the Deluminator can actually do the extra thing I have it do, and if you're mad at me, please don't hex me.

Deluminator

(Ron's Point of View)

"Ron?" I look up at Hermione with my toothbrush in my mouth.

"Mmph?" I attempt to answer, but only succeed in spraying my new bride with flecks of toothpaste. I spit, rinse out my mouth, and hand her a towel. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I've had worse stuff on me. Like blood." She grins, and I give an inward shudder. I hate the fact that she's had to deal with so much blood. But at least we made it out of everything alive, and together, at that. Who would've thought?

Hermione and I have been married for only a month, but it has been one of the best months of my life. I know that sounds really, really sappy, but it's true. We'd been engaged for exactly one year when we got married. Which also happened to be the exact same date and time as our first kiss. And also where and when we started dating after the Battle of Hogwarts. Halloween, 3 pm. The kiss was an accident. To make a long story short: 3rd year, 1st Hogsmeade trip. We were exploring the village when we came upon a clump of trees, went in, discovered a pond, and had Hermione burst past me. Running to touch the water, she slipped on a wet rock and I caught her- face towards me. Either it was whiplash or the old magic of the place, but we kissed. We were both shocked out of our minds and agreed never to tell- but we now agree that we should tell, or at least can. Anyway… fast forward until after the battle. Wait for things to simmer down a little. Get talked into taking a summer course… And managing to do well enough on N.E.W.T.s to become an auror, or, in Hermione's case (though there was never any doubt), a ministry personel (who works with house-elf rights). Fast forward a year of hard training and a quickly developing relationship, and suddenly I'm doing my best to get up enough gut to propose. Zoom forward a month and she's accepted, and we're secretly planning a wedding. One year later, the two of us are saying our vows in front of a priest, Luna, and Neville. Over the next month, we find a home, buy it, move in, and boom, we're standing in our bathroom, talking about toothpaste and blood.

"So, anyway, what were you going to ask?" I queried as we walked back to our bedroom.

"I was wondering where you keep your Deluminator-I think I might have an idea for the two of us," she says, giving me a grin. "Also, I have a few questions for you, and you probably have some for me." I must look really confused, so she says, laughing a little, "You know, things we never really smoothed out- things that happened in 4th and 6th year."

So, sitting cross-legged and face-to-face on our bed, Deluminator between us, Hermione asks the first question. "Were you ever really… serious…about Lavender? I mean…did you two," she winces, "ever 'sleep together'?" I am completely appalled by the thought, and I tell her so. She looks tremendously relieved. Letting out the breath that I didn't notice she was holding, she said, "I was just wondering, because I overheard Lavender talking to Parvati in the dormitory after they thought I was asleep, and she mentioned the fact of how close you two were getting, and said she'd try to see if she could 'learn' anything from you at night.… For obvious reasons, I was worried."

I reach over and stroke her cheek, and say gently, "She did imply a little of that, but I just ignored her. I wasn't ready for that- and never would've been, not with her." I pause, looking into her eyes, and drop my hand to her shoulder. Smiling slightly, I add, "Anyway, when Dad explained 'the facts of life', he made me promise not to… you know… with any girl until I married her." I feel my ears go red, and her cheeks mirrored them. We haven't, not yet, anyway…

Searching for a different topic, I pick up the Deluminator. "What is this for, anyway?"

She seems relieved, also, at the change of topic, and explains, "I found a paper on them recently, written by Dumbledore, explaining the many uses. For example," she gave me a small smile, "helping someone find their way back when they truly need to, putting out lights, and acting as a sort of portable pensive." I blink, extremely confused. "What I mean is," she amends hastily, "you can connect a memory to it, to share with someone else. I thought it might be useful, especially concerning some of the 4th year stuff, since you probably won't believe me, even though I'll tell you the truth." I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. She puts one finger beneath my chin, and pushes up, closing my mouth. Then she kisses me, and ends up sitting in my lap. I bury my face in her long, chocolaty hair, and breathe in the smell of cinnamon. Hermione always smells like cinnamon, even right after a shower. But for some reason, her kisses taste like pears. Need I add that I love both of those? Ever since I was little…

"Your turn for a question, Ron," she says, sliding out of my lap so I can see her face. I search my brain, and come up with a question almost instantly.

"What really happened with Krum? Ginny said that you snogged him, but I don't want to believe her."

She shakes her head, smiling slightly. "Viktor only ever kissed my forehead and the back of my hand, Ron." Seeing the incredulous look on my face, she exclaimed, "Aha! See, I knew it! I knew you wouldn't believe me- that's why we need the Deluminator for this! I was right!" And then she starts laughing really, really hard. I love it when she laughs- her face gets this rosy hue to it, her hair bounces around her like chocolate springs, and her eyes get this beautiful sparkle that I could just look at for hours and hours. The laugh itself is simply spectacular- light and shimmery, and something I can't describe.

After taking a few gulps of air to calm herself, Hermione picks up the Deluminator and grabs her wand. Muttering something about needing to have a talk with Ginny, she pulls the strand of memory out of her mind and connects it to the Deluminator, and then to my head. She clicks the Deluminator once.

We are standing right outside the portrait hole, to the left of the frame. Turning, I see 4th-year Hermione, beautiful then as ever, coming towards us, talking with Krum. "I had a very nice time tonight, Viktor, thank you," she said, giving him a smile.

"Ze pleasure vas all mine, Herm-own-ninny. I cannot recall ever dancing in my life, and I am very sorry for stepping on your feet so much." He spoke in an odd tone, and it was completely obvious (to me, at least,) that he did not want to be 'just friends' with Hermione. It burns me up to think that he can't even pronounce her name correctly! I give my head a little shake to clear it as present-day Hermione rests hers on my shoulder. Looking back at the two of them, I see Hermione bade Krum goodnight and turn to the Fat Lady.

"Vait," he calls out, and whirls her around, pulling her in for a kiss. She claps a hand to her mouth just in time to block him, and as she told me, he kissed the back of her hand. He drew back, looking confused, as if he had never expected this to happen.

"Vh-vhat?" he stuttered, "Vhy-?"

"Viktor, I'm sorry," Hermione cut in, "but I can't kiss you. I-"

He looked angry, and interrupted, "I vanted to kiss you goodnight. Vhy don't you let me? You have enjoyed ze night, have you not? Vhat is ze matter? You have given me ze impression zat you have been flirting vith me, talking, have you not?"

"Viktor, I cannot accept a goodnight kiss from you for one reason, and one reason alone. Yes, I have enjoyed the night, and yes, we have been talking. But I haven't been flirting- I've only been being friendly because you seemed nice."

"Oh. I vas mistaken- I am sorry," he then looked curious, "Vat is ze reason?"

She took a deep breath, and answered, "I can't kiss you goodnight because it would be a lie. I have feelings for someone else- not Harry," she added, seeing the look on his face. "My other friend- the one with the red hair. I just couldn't kiss anyone but him. I'm sorry, Viktor, but could we just be friends?"

"Yes, zat vould be good," he replied, "I vould like zat. Perhaps I could give you advice, and you me. Ve could be pen pals."

She looked relieved, and smiled, "That would be great, thank you for understanding. Goodnight." He kissed her forehead, and she went through the portrait hole, smiling slightly.

We land back on our bed with a thump, my head spinning, my heart doing a dance for joy in my chest. "You didn't let Krum kiss you, you didn't let the grumpy git kiss you, ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Ron?" She looks at me, one eyebrow raised. Whoops.

"I didn't mean to say that out loud," I explain, my ears growing hot. She smiles slightly, shakes her head, and puts the Deluminator down.

"Ron, why did it take this to convince you? Why wouldn't you believe me before?"

"Is that your question," I ask, "Or just an add-on?"

She hesitates a moment, then answers, "Yes, that's my question." Crud. Now I really do have to answer, and tell her the reason that I've been trying to deny for several years. The fact that I'm not good enough for her, the fact that I am not even close to being equal to Krum or Harry. I take a deep breath, and, staring at my lap, try to make the words come out.

"It- it's just-," I stammer, "sometimes I think I'm not good enough for you- I- I…" I let my voice trail off, and look up to see Hermione looking at me in a completely unexpected way.

(Hermione's P.O.V.)

I honestly cannot believe my ears. Ron, not good enough for me? How can he even think that he, Ron Weasley, could not be good enough for me? I stare, dumbfounded and a little angry, at him as he lifts his eyes to my face, his ears as red as his hair.

He gulps loudly, and continues, "I just am not the kind of guy, or am even on the right level, that you deserve to be with. I mean, I'm not particularly good at magic, or lessons, or Quidditch, or much of anything- and I'm not even handsome. I- I just don't know how an amazing girl like you, who's smart, good- really good- at magic, kind, generous, and drop-dead gorgeous to round it all off, ever ended up with a guy like me. You deserve to be with someone better, like," (it looks as if it pains him to say this) "Krum or Harry or-"

My anger and absolute disbelief overflow at this point, and I shout, "Stop! Stop all this blithering nonsense right now, Ron! How dare you even think that you're not good enough for me? How dare you? How dare you say all those terrible and completely untrue things about yourself? How?" Ron is actually leaning back, looking terrified and completely stunned at my outburst. But I'm not done yet. "How dare you say that you're not good at anything? You destroyed a bloody horcrux! You are good at magic, you are smart, you can fly really well- and you're the best-looking guy I've ever laid my eyes on! So don't you even think that you're not good enough, Ron, or I'm going to hex you," I pause for breath, feeling very shocked and angry, wondering what could've put this

ludicrous idea in his mind in the first place. "And one last thing," I say, as he opens his mouth to try to speak, "I have never been attracted to Viktor in that way, as the memory proves. And as for Harry, are you kidding me? He's like a brother, and for me to kiss him would be like if you kissed Ginny." My heart is pounding like crazy, and I'm panting as if I've run a mile. Where did all this fury come from? And how can Ron even think stuff like that? I've been head-over-heels for him since first year, and it's never going to change. I know that much. We've been through too much together to let that even be a possibility.

Closing my eyes, I lean back against my pillow, still breathing hard. I hear a soft meow from the doorway and open my eyes to see Crookshanks enter the room. Hissing slightly at Ron, who he never really got used to (and probably never will), Crookshanks settled himself on my stomach, nudging my hand in sympathy, and faces Ron, fixing him with a rather nasty stare. I feel calmer now, and lift my eyes to my husband's face. He seems to sense that I've calmed down a little, and looks relieved. I think I seriously scared him, though- he looks slightly pale, and his ears are bright red.

Clearing his throat, Ron blinks, looking nervous. "I- er," he stammers, "was just telling you the truth- what-what I've been denying now for several years, these last two in particular. I was only trying to answer the question, 'Mione." He's using my nickname, the one I only ever let him call me when we're alone- especially because I can't stand anyone else calling me that.

I smile at him, and admit, "The reason I got so angry was that a lot of the time, especially during sixth year, I was wondering if I was good enough for you. I guess neither of us need to worry about that anymore, do we?" I shrug, watching him process this information, feeling kind of silly, then add, "We were both worrying the same thing, only with opposite ends! How ironic can you get?" He cracks a smile, that lop-sided, roughish grin of his that I love, and starts to laugh. I join in, and then Crookshanks, looking confused, jumps off my stomach, onto Ron, and then bounds off the bed and out off the room like a wild animal, causing both of us to laugh even harder.

After a few minutes, we regain control of ourselves and Ron pulls me into his lap. I settle against him, feeling, as always, safe and comfortable in his arms, and he kisses me. I love it when we kiss. He's very gentle, and always knows how much pressure to apply, and when to rub my back or run his fingers through my hair. It doesn't hurt that he smells like pumpkin and tastes like honey (probably due to the amount of sweets he eats). We hold that kiss for several long moments, not wanting to let go. Eventually, I pull back.

"So," I say, "I think that it's your turn to ask a question, Ron."

"Okay," he responds, "why did you ask McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party- and did he kiss you?"

I feel my cheeks turning hot. "I asked him because I figured that he'd annoy you the most, and no, he didn't kiss me, but not for lack of trying. He almost managed, but I got my hand up in time."

Looking enormously relieved, he asks, "So you managed to block your mouth?" I smile.

"Well, I guess you could say that- I'd gotten so tired of his constant blather and his attempts to kiss me that I punched him in the mouth when he came at me for the third time, and then managed to get away. I had an awful time, to tell you the truth." Ron grins widely, and I add, "Did you know that you're the only person outside my family that I've ever kissed?"

He blinks in astonishment. "Really? But doesn't that mean-"

"Yes, really- I'm 100% yours. And it's going to stay that way."

Ron stood up suddenly. "'Scuse me a minute, 'Mione." He slipped out of our bedroom, and I followed silently. Once he thought he was out of earshot, he did an odd little dance, punching the air with his fists and whooping. Slipping back to our bedroom, I settle down among the blankets as he comes back in and kisses me. When we break apart, I say, "I've got one more question, Ron."

Grinning, he says, "Fire away."

"Do you like my kisses or Lavender's better?"

Folding me in his arms and looking me straight in the eye, he answers, "Hermione, I'd prefer to get one kiss from you than one hundred from Lavender."

"Just checking."

"One last thing, Hermione."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"I have one last question, 'Mione."

"And that would be…?"

He looks suddenly shy as he asks, "When would you like to start trying for a baby?"

Looking him straight in the eye, I answer, "Now."

*Fin*

Author's Note: although Ron and Hermione start trying when they are 21 and 22, they don't have Rosie until they're 25 and 26, and Hugo at 27 and 28(this is counting in Hermione's early birthday).