A few weeks after his homemade lunch, Ron saw a similar sight to what his wife experienced. This time, Hermione walked into the room with a haggard look. Dark circles developing under her eyes, he caught the notion that she hadn't taken a nap in the last week, dead on her feet so to speak. The last time he saw her like this was when she worked on Hagrid's case in their third year, with all that time-turner nonsense. Still thinks she can do it all…
"Hey you," he said. She didn't reply but came over and hugged him tight, arms around his torso. He put his hand on her head and held her close. Kissing her lightly, Ron asked her, "What have you been doing? You look worse than me a few weeks ago. Hard case?"
"I'm just so sick of these inconsiderate, unfeeling, illogical people," she murmured to him. "Can't see any reason…" She faltered. Ron saw her lids drooping. He could feel her burn up under his hand. Ron wasn't sure if it was a fever or if it was because she sat under a desk lamp for most of the day… and night.
"Are you okay? Do you need some pepperup potion?" Ron made to get up to the kitchen, concerned.
"No, I'm fine. Just need a nap. If I have a hope in this case I need to…" Hermione started to drift off in her unintelligible big-word vocabulary, swaying slightly, turning to take the stairs.
"Hermione, maybe you should sit fir---" Before he could finish and she could walk more than a couple feet away, her legs started to give out. Jerking to catch her, he found Hermione in his arms, drifting in and out of consciousness. Her body drooped like a blanket over the side of a couch. He was wrong. She wasn't close to this bad in their third year. She hadn't started fainting then. Falling asleep, but not fainting. She's so concerned for everyone else she doesn't take care of herself.
"Ron, I can walk, I'm fine. Put me down… really…" Without a sound and trying not to jostle her, he lifted Hermione in one motion. Even Ron knew she was in no condition to debate. He carried her up the stairs. She protested no longer and was fast asleep before he reached their bedroom.
"Goodnight," he whispered. Hermione turned over. Ron tucked her in, running his fingers through her hair before he left the room. Ron walked over to the phone, calling her office at work. He didn't want someone shadowing her in case she fell. She needed, at the very least, a day off. Going to kill herself before she gets the chance to help someone. Once her boss allowed it, he hung up the phone, thinking of how panicked she would be in the morning. He smiled. You know, she might not be up until noon if she keeps sleeping like that. He went to the kitchen.
An hour later, he joined her in bed and rolled to face her. She slept like an angel but her face bunched up periodically, her mind wandering. Ron looked at her with a sigh. You can take the book out of her hands but not her from the book… Of course, if it were any other way, it wouldn't be Hermione. He smiled, thinking of all the times they argued, all the times they insulted each other, every time he made her cry, and every time she made him furious. It was worth it, just to see her next to him. I don't deserve this…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione twisted and stretched. Yawning widely, she felt the sun on the left side of her face. Sun? She looked out the window, past the curtains to the outside. Her head swiveled automatically to the clock. Eleven thirty?! She jumped to her feet, almost blowing away a piece of paper on the bedside table. On it was Ron's handwriting. Gingerly, for she still was not completely awake, she read what it said:
Morning Mrs. Weasley,
I almost wrote "Mrs. Sleepy" but I think Mr. Grumpy would keep his wife Mrs. Sleepy awake so… Okay, that sounds really dumb but to the point so you can stop fretting. I called your boss and you're off from work today. He agreed with me too. He said you work too late for too little pay. If I heard right, I think you're getting a raise. But you don't care about that stuff; you just like helping people to the point where you can't help yourself. So, enjoy your day. Take a rest. I'll be home before you know it. I love you Hermione. You already knew that. Otherwise, you wouldn't be Hermione, cleverest witch of the age.
- Your Very Lucky Husband
P.S. – Look in the kitchen.
Look in the kitchen? she thought. I hope he hasn't burned the house. I'm not great at cooking but Ron… She went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Brushing her teeth thoroughly and taking a shower, she went downstairs to see what Ron could have possibly done to the kitchen.
Nothing appeared to be out of place. It looked normal. Hermione stood there. Maybe he wanted me to look for something? She checked the counters, cupboards, and shelves to no avail. I must be thinking about it too hard. I suppose I'll go fix myself a sandwich… She walked over to the fridge and opened the large, white door. Sitting there was a brown paper bag with her name on it in Ron's untidy scrawl. She laughed. Oh, my. What has he made for breakfast? Or would it be lunch?
Taking the bag out carefully, she placed it on the table, the same one where she made those pancake sandwiches. She ripped it open to expose the contents. Inside she found a bagel, with an apple slice, cheese, and cinnamon on top. In another handwritten message it said to, "Heat it up in the oven, to melt the cheese. I thought I was going to burn it so… I didn't want you to worry about fixing the kitchen today." There was also a bottle of orange juice, just like last time, and strawberry yogurt, her favorite. Hermione paused while in midstride towards the oven. Why do I need the oven? This is quite small, and I don't have to warm it for long. Couldn't I just use my wand? But Hermione kept walking on to the oven regardless. She placed the bagel in plus all the toppings. But it wouldn't go inside. What's in there? Setting down her lunch, she stuck her hand in and pulled out a tray. When she looked at it again, she realized it wasn't a tray but a muffin tin. Inside were small blueberry and chocolate chip muffins, all slightly burnt. Hermione chuckled. I was wondering where those were. Maybe he was hiding them. Honestly Ron... She thought of her, well, thoughtful husband, though she would probably make a list of things she couldn't find, mainly food items to ask about later.
She took everything to the table. Once her bagel was warmed up, she took that out too. She finished it and sighed in contentment. But she couldn't sit idle for long. Already her mind was on work. When she realized this, she stopped and thought of all the trouble Ron went through to give her a day off. "I'm off today. I'm not going to think about work." As if in response, she heard someone at the door. They did not ring the doorbell so she didn't answer it, but she went to the sink to wash the dishes. Sooner, rather than later, Hermione went on a cleaning spree for something to do. She couldn't find her book, even though she was sure she put in on the table; she would have to ask Ron about that too.
Finally, with the house clean, she went to the door to see if the person left anything or just figured they came to the wrong house. When she opened it, she found nothing, so she went outside the house and looked at the door. An advertisement was hanging from the knob. She pulled it off and went back inside. It was advertising Chinese food. She grinned. I think I know what we're having for dinner tonight.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She ordered a couple of dishes. Hermione didn't really know what to get Ron. She just figured he would end up liking anything placed in front of him. He's never had Chinese food before. But I guess he didn't need it when his mother was the one cooking. She sat on the couch waiting for him to come home. The food beat him to it. Hermione wasn't used to delivery either. She didn't know where the place was. It seemed like somewhere out of town. Besides, she figured, it's time to see if muggles can find our house. Apparently they could since the doorbell rang. She got up and paid the man delivering. Hermione thanked him and went to the kitchen, placing the bag on the table.
She heard a click. Ron walked through the door. "What's that?" he asked. He smelled nothing like it before, but it smelled good.
"Chinese food," she answered. Hermione ran to him, giving a big hug before he could put anything down. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and felt him smile. Then, she felt him push her lightly.
"Hold it, Hermione. Wait until I put this away…" She helped, taking things from his arms to set them on the floor by the door.
Hermione went to go get plates. Ron stopped her then. "Wait."
"Yes?"
"Could we um… I don't know… not eat at the table today? It's too formal."
That's an odd request. "Sure Ron. Um…" She wasn't quite sure what to say next. "Well, we have paper plates. Do you want to use those instead?"
"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind."
Hermione started up again, getting paper plates. Ron assisted by retrieving plastic utensils and napkins. He sat on the couch and turned on the radio to listen to what was on.
"Um, Ron?" Timidly, she held up a pair of wooden sticks.
"Hmm?"
"Well, I was thinking… Did you want to learn how to use chopsticks?"
In confusion he stared. "What are chopsticks?"
She smiled and taught him what they were and how to use them. It took him many tries and he was very frustrated at them. Hermione just told him to keep trying and eventually he wasn't dropping the food quite so often.
"We need to order this when the kids are around. This is good stuff," he said. He wrapped his arms around her suddenly, putting the plate on the arm of the couch. "How was your day off?"
"I don't know Ron. It scared me silly when I saw the sun out." She smiled at him. "Thank you for lunch." Snuggling closer, she whispered, "I'm just glad you're home."
"Me too." Ron kissed her on the forehead, then on her cheek. She giggled.
"Just eat, Ron. I know you're hungry."
"How am I supposed to eat when I can't get the food in my mouth? Who uses sticks to eat besides at a campfire? Can't I just skewer them?"
"Do you want me to feed you?"
He looked at her funny. Then he gave her a lopsided grin. "You know, that idea is certainly appealing… I---" Before he could finish, she stuffed a piece of beef in his mouth. He laughed, with the food getting ready to come out.
"Ew Ron. Chew and swallow first!" She was laughing right along with him. Soon enough, both of them got tired and Ron attempted to carry her to bed again. Hermione complained loudly. "Oh, not again. I'm not having you carry me on a full stomach. Come on Ron." She almost skipped upstairs, holding his hand as Ron followed closely behind her. Both got ready for bed.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Hermione." Holding her close, she fell asleep in his arms. He did the same in a minute, snoring loudly. She woke up to his snoring. Hermione kissed him on the nose, making him snort. She laughed again. "Go to sleep Hermione." He smiled and stroked her cheek.
"Yes Mr. Weasley. Or is it Mr. Grumpy now?" He just stroked her face again and she closed her eyes, falling into slumber.
Before she could really dream, one thought formed in her head. How did I get so lucky?
AN: Personally, I think this chapter didn't do the last one justice. However, I felt the need for Ron to do something in return so I kept typing anyway. I wasn't planning on continuing this at all but I might add to it later if I come up with something. I hope you've enjoyed my story. Happy reading! And writing too! :D