Hermione Granger was not in a good mood. She was in a downright foul mood if she said so herself, and she didn’t care. Taking the papers left on the kitchen table from the night before, her eyes scanned them with a dark furry, lingering on the red letters stamped across everything.

"Denied.”

Screaming in frustration, her hands crumpled the papers, tossing them into the rubbish bin with a force. The late afternoon’s sun wasn’t doing anything to help her mood, Hermione finally coming to sit at the table. Her fingers tapped the counter; foot tapped the floor, teeth biting her lip as her mind raced. It just simply wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t.

That space in Diagon Alley was perfect, absolutely perfect for her bookstore. And it would have all been perfect, if not for one small factor. The small factor being that she, the greatest witch in a very long time, had been denied buying it. All because of some stupid, good for nothing prats. Which happened to have red hair, and Weasley as a last name, and had been the bane of her existence for as long as she could remember.

"Sod Fred and George!"

Standing, she kicked the table leg in anger, wet hair dripping down onto the floor. Normally, she would have cared. Normally, Hermione would have been up since 7 am, not just an hour ago at 3pm. But this was not a normal day. This was an awful day, one of the worst she had had in a long time. Her only redeeming factor was that Ron was still busy with Auror training with Harry, and he wasn’t around to hear her act like a child. Because quite simply, she was.

But somehow she felt like she had a right to be devastated about not getting the property. She had worked for so long, and so hard to raise the funds, and make the contacts, and do everything that was required. Sure, Hermione could have easily held just about any job she had ever wanted. But she didn’t want any job. She wanted this job; the job of owning her own bookstore and providing knowledge and escapement to the world. This was the job she was always meant to have.

"What now?"

Her hands jerked up the window, letting in the fluttering owl outside. She wasn’t quite sure who it was from, but she hurriedly took the paper from its clutches, watching as it flew back outside. Tossing her slowly drying hair back and spraying the wall in the process, Hermione pulled the paper out of its envelope.


Dear Hermione,
I know you’re still upset about you not getting the property for your bookstore. Harry sends his condolences, and says that if you want, he could kill Fred and George for you. He (and I) don’t exactly see why they need to move into this new shop. Their old one is fine, isn’t it?

That’s beside the point though. The point is, you need to get away. You need to stop thinking about what could have been, and how you’re going to get there. You need a change of scenery. So pack your bags and be ready by five. We’re taking a bit of a mission trip for training, and you’re coming along. Don’t ask questions, just be ready.
I’ll see you in about an hour. Keep your chin up, sweets.

Cheers,
Ron.

By the way, don’t forget a bathing suit.



It was with a flurry of activity that Hermione, smile plastered on her face, rushed around. Gathering things from here and there, she finally collapsed down onto the kitchen chair at the stroke of 5pm. Shoulder bag packed with anything she might need, and suitcase lying on the floor, she was left to wonder over Ron’s note.

A mission trip for Auror training? One that she was allowed to come along on? Her logic (which was quite fine, aside from the tiny breakdown she had twenty minutes ago) complained. Said it wasn’t right, and it wasn’t truthful, and that she should be more aware of what was going on. But Hermione just brushed off her thoughts; eyes popping open at the sound of someone apparating into her flat.

"Ron!"
"Hey, love."

She buried her face into his black robes and Ron smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around her frame. Quite frankly, she was worrying him, being so distraught over this property thing. So it was good to see her smiling at him, Ron bending to kiss her pink lips softly.

"Have a good day?"
"Didn’t get up until three," She bit her lip, "Did you?"
"Of course. Auror training is always a blast!"
"Ron…"

Her voice took on that nagging quality for a second, head tilting to allow her chocolate eyes to glare easier. But all he had to do was grin lazily at her, and she giggled, slapping him lightly in the chest.

"So, where is it that we’re going for the training mission?"
"Somewhere." He teased.
"Somewhere?"
"Somewhere warm. Now grab your bag, and I’ll take your suitcase, and we’ll be off."
"Don’t you need anything?" She asked suspiciously.
"Anything I need is already there, or standing beside me."

She was about to laugh at Ron’s form of flattery, when he held out a worn book with a picture of a beach on it.

"Portkey?"
"Portkey."
"Lovely." She sighed.
"It’s a book though!"
"You’re a prat, Ronald."
"I know."

She spun around and around, feeling quite dizzy but holding tightly onto her bag until her feet hit solid ground once more, and Hermione allowed herself to open an eye. The smell hit her before anything else, the tingling sensation of salt mixed in with fruit overloading her nose so much that she sneezed, Ron laughing as he smiled widely.

The ocean was just meters from them, lapping at the pale white sand that crabs scuttled over. There was a serene innocence about the whole thing, Hermione’s eyes scanning around. Expecting to see Harry, or Dave, or one of the other Aurors training with Ron, her face fell when none of them were located.

“You look glum?” Ron asked.
“This is an Auror mission, right?”
“Uhhh….”
“Because if it is, where are Harry and everyone else?” Her eyes narrowed.
“….Harry’s on a… different Auror mission?”

She seemed ready to hit someone, probably him, Ron thought, holding open the sliding door to the beach house whose back deck they were standing on. Hermione walked through, but not far enough to allow Ron entrance, instead turning to face him with hands on her hips.

“Really now?”
“No,” Ron hung his head, “There is no Auror training mission, and there is no Harry or Dave or Andrew.”
“Then what is there?” She asked.
“You. And me. And the beach. And the next four days to do whatever we want.”
"You're joking?"
"Hardly," Ron laughed, "We’re getting a couple weeks off, before we go back for our final testing. Harry’s locking himself and Ginny up in their flat for a week. I decided to bring you here."
"You did?"

Her eyes were brimming with tears, hands faltering from her hips to lock around Ron’s neck. It wasn’t as if this was the first romantic thing Ron had ever done, but it was the first truly unexpected thing he had ever done. Sometimes Hermione still felt like Ron had the emotional range of a teaspoon; totally oblivious to what she was really feeling. But this just proved to her once and for all that he really had grown up since school. A lot.

"I love you."
"What?"
"I love- Oh!" She inhaled sharply, hand clamping over her mouth.

He was staring at her, lips parted slightly as her cheeks turned red. Had he just heard that? Hermione Granger, HIS Hermione was saying that? Certainly, Ron had known all along that she did. It had been implied everyday since they began dating that the feeling was there. And it was mutual. But over a year into their relationship, neither had actually come outright and said the words.

Ron had wanted to, but he hadn’t quite worked up the courage. Besides, it was nicer the way it was. There was no deeper emotional attachment (or at least, that was what Ron had tried to convince himself for fifteen months), or any anger over those three words. They stayed safe and content if those words weren’t brought into their relationship. But now he couldn’t help but smile slightly, thumb wiping away one of her stray tears. He was tired of things always being safe and content. And she obviously was too.

"I’m sorry Ron, I just didn’t-"
"I love you too, Hermione."
"What?" She asked, voice squeaking.
"I love you."
"You do?"

His head bobbed, and Hermione laughed in surprise, reaching up on the toes of her flip-flops to kiss him.

"I love you too."
"I love you." He mumbled against her lips.
"I love you."
"I love you."

She felt like a teenager, experiencing what Hermione knew she should have experienced during those years. Hearing her first love say those words to her had evoked a permanent glow about her skin, and a smile on her lips for the two days they had been there for now. A smile that only widened as she sat on the sand and watched her dripping wet redhead boyfriend wander up from the water.

"You should come in."
"Not right now." She laughed, handing him a towel.
"And why not?"
"I’m enjoying being in the sun."
"The sun hits the water too, you know?"

And it certainly did seem to do so, Hermione batting away Ron’s arms as he tried to hug her, still dripping wet.

"You’re wet!"
"You know, 'Mione, you’re not as brilliantly observant as you used to be."

This time she really did slap him away, playfully of course, leaning back on her elbows. The sun was glorious, and the company gorgeous, Hermione laughing as Ron shook his head around, water flying everywhere. He was wonderful, and without a doubt the best thing that had ever happened to her.

And he was also sun burnt, something that made him cringe. Tilting his head backwards, Ron couldn't quite determine just how bad he looked, sitting cross-legged beside Hermione, staring at her.

"What?" She asked.
"Do I look like a tomato?"
"Well," The brunette paused, looking him up and down, “I’d say more of a boiled lobster.”
"You!" He raged.

She shrieked, scrambling to her bare feet as Ron made a lunge for her. Hermione was fast, hair trailing behind her as she ran down the beach trying to avoid Ron’s grasp, but not quite fast enough. His arms grabbed her protectively, but they were anything but.

Screaming, she kicked her feet and cursed him to no end, Ron simply laughing. She was truly beautiful even when she was threatening to put him at the mercy of Ginny’s Bat-Bogey Hex. The looks the other beach goers were giving them only fueled Ron more, wading out until he was knee deep in water.

"RONALD WEASLE-"

She went down screaming and came up sputtering, Ron laughing like a maniac as he tilted his head to the side to watch as she brushed the wet hair out of her eyes. She really was beautiful.

"I love you!" He grinned cheekily.
"Prat!"