Darling,
In case you were STILL wondering, your Chuddley Cannons sweater is where you left it.

-Me


The note did nothing to make Ron feel better, shaking his head as he leant back in his chair. Desk duty wasn’t something he liked at all, looking around his cubicle. It had a certain orange theme to it, taking a sip of coffee from the official Cannons mug Harry had gotten him last Christmas. But aside from the Cannons, there were pictures. Three in frames that sat on his desk, and many more tacked up onto his tiny bulletin board.

“Hey mate?”
“Harry?”

He pushed his chair back just a bit, Ron looking to the left at Harry’s cubicle were his face was half hidden with paperwork.

“Who’s the owl from?” The raven-haired man asked.
“’Mione. Gloating over me still not finding my Cannons sweater.”
“You still can’t find it?”
“Shut it, Harry.”

Ignoring his best friend’s laughter, Ron’s eyes turned to gaze at his favorite picture on his desk, watching as the two occupants interacted. Taken almost three years ago, there weren’t many differences. Sure, his hair had darkened a shade or two, and hers had tamed a bit, and she had gained an inch in height, but that was it.

The frizzy curls of her hair were blowing around in the wind from the Hogwarts Lake as the picture Ron held her in his arms, or kissed her with a blush, or spun her around. And the joy in which her eyes showed as he did all of that made the real life Ron shake his head. She was beautiful then, and she was even more beautiful now.

But she had changed. Ron was willing to admit that to himself, as he was willing to admit that he had changed. War changed people. It couldn’t be helped. And while that specific picture might have been their first as a couple only eight days after he woke up, it didn’t depict the real world.

It didn’t depict the aftermath of battle, it didn’t depict the losses they were both feeling, and it didn’t depict the still uncertainty of their future. And for that, Ron was still grateful. That picture was taken in a moment where there was no war, there was no death, and there was no uncertainty. There was only them.

Hermione and him.

“Ron?”
”Yeah?”
“You’ve got another owl.”
“Oh, right.”

Tearing his eyes away from the picture, Ron distracted the parchment from the owl’s leg and opened it up. It took him two tries to read the words correctly, but he eventually just sighed in frustration, tossing it over to Harry’s cubicle. At least someone might get a laugh out of it.

“That’s horrid, Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed.
“No it’s not!”
“Yes, it is!”
“'Dear Ronald, Here’s a hint: Look for something orange.’ That’s horrible, Hermione! Even for my brother!”

The younger red head was leaning against the counter, watching Hermione reshelf books, a smile playing on her lips. The sparkle that twinkled in the brunette’s eyes as she turned to face her best friend caught Ginny almost off-guard. It was a sparkle that was usually only reserved for Ron’s presence in the room.

“Okay. It was horrid of me Ginny. But I’m just getting him back for all the years of torment in school.”
“By hiding his favorite sweater?”
“I didn’t hide it.” Hermione laughed, “He left it on the floor, and it got kicked under the bed.”
“And you as his lovely, charming girlfriend won’t mention that?”
“No.”
“Honestly,” Ginny shook her head, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you ‘Mione. You’re giddy almost.”
“Love does crazy things to you, I guess.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Ginny’s coughing came, Hermione turning around to look at her guiltily.

“What?”
“You confuse me, Hermione.”
”Why?”
“I don’t rightly know. It’s just…” Ginny trailed off.
“It’s still weird to know that your best friend and your brother are in love with each other and might one day get married,” Hermione smiled, “Sometimes I don’t even believe it.”

Before anything else could be said a customer came to the desk and Ginny was occupied with him, as Hermione was caught up with the sound of an owl perching on the windowsill.


‘Mione,
Orange. Really now? Are you certain that it’s orange? Or maybe is it a pumpkin? Or a sunset orange? Honestly woman, you drive me nutters.


Hermione smiled inwardly, leaning against the open window.


But I suppose that’s why I love you. Even though you won’t tell me where my Cannons sweater is? Come on, love! The game’s in TWO DAYS and I NEED IT.

Please?


The scratching of her quill must have alerted Ginny to another secret note being sent away, the red head leaning against the counter once more as she watched Hermione write.

“You know, if you didn’t own this store, the manager would be awfully mad at you for writing notes to your boyfriend.”
“Which is exactly why I do own this store. And you know, I’m sure Harry’s awfully lonely what with Ron getting notes all the time and him not.”
“Shut it, Hermione.”

She snickered, Ginny looking very much like Ron for a moment before she finished scratching her note, tying it onto the owl’s leg.

“Take it to Ron please.”

His head pounded with pain as he filled out yet another report, feeling very much like he were being drowned to death by paperwork. Harry’s pile was slowly decreasing, as his just increased it seemed. And it certainly didn’t help that every few minutes he was distracted by a picture of Hermione, or a note from her. It had been a while since her last though, so he had gotten a bit done. Which is why Ron’s head pounded he figured. Too much work and too little Hermione made Ron a very crabby twenty year old indeed.


Ronald,
Tomorrow is Valentines Day. And Ginny has just informed me that both Harry and you are working? Working?! Honestly. It’s a good thing I had the sense to foresee this and get a reservation later in the evening.

Unless of course, you finish all your paperwork today, and then tomorrow we can spend together. Seeing as I booked the day off work. Just a thought. See you in a few hours!

-Hermione.


Dearest,
I would love you to see just how much paperwork I have on my desk at the moment. Even you wouldn’t be able to finish it in a few hours. I must have a dozen bloody reports to finish!

And of course, you had the sense to ‘foresee’ this and plan ahead. That’s my beautiful know-it-all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have paperwork to do.

Love,
Ron


Ron,
I never thought I would see the day in which you would imply that paperwork is more important than I.

-‘Mione.


Hermione,
I never meant to imply that paperwork is more important than you. Nothing is more important than you.

Except maybe the Cannons.

Just kidding.

-Ron


“You know mate,” Harry smiled, “The two of you are funny.”
“How so?” Ron asked, trying his latest note onto an owl.
“I don’t know. In Hogwarts Hermione was always the serious one, and you were always the one who teased her, and now look at you. She’s teasing you, and you’re teasing her, and you’re both so bloody head over heels for one another. It’s enough to make a bloke feel like a third wheel.”
“Have you gone nutters? You’re not a third wheel, Harry. I mean, we’ve all felt like it at some point or another over the years. It’s part of being in that crap ‘Trio’ thing. Besides, you’ve got Ginny, right?”

Ron raised his eyebrow threateningly, or at least in he hoped it was threateningly, watching as Harry laughed and brushed him off, turning back to his paperwork. The red head shook his head, and following example turned back to his own stack.


Ron,
I’ve been thinking, and don’t act shocked, because you know that’s what I do. Anyways, I’ve been thinking, and instead of going to dinner tomorrow in Diagon Alley, why don’t we go down to Hogsmead to have dinner, and then take in the sunset from Hogwarts?

It’s been forever since we’ve been back, and it would be lovely to sit by the lake again, don’t you think?

Yours always,
Hermione


Beautiful,
Smashing idea! However, one small problem. I NEED MY SWEATER!!!!

I don’t think you understand how much I need it, ‘Mione. Please? Don’t make me beg. It’s really quite unbecoming of someone of my age. You know that. Please? I love you?!

-Ron


Ginny beside her giggled, passing the parchment down to Hermione. Night was beginning to fall, and with the bookstore closed for the day both women were left to clean up and talk some before the apparated home for the evening.

“He sounds quite desperate.”
“He does. I feel bad.”
“But of course, you’re the only woman in the world that could make him even think of begging. It would be a sight.” Ginny mused.
“Ginny! And you talk about me being horrid?”
“Well, it would be!”
“It would.” The brunette gave in, reaching one last time for her quill.

His head was resting on the remaining pile of papers, dozing lightly as Ron dreamt of Hermione and sunsets and Hogwarts and the wind off the lake. All the things in life he loved. Which is why it was a rude awakening to be pecked on the head, Ron moaning as he rubbed the spot, looking around.

“Wha-?”
“Owl.” Harry just muttered from next to him.
”Oh. What time is it?”
”Quitting time.”
”About bloody time.”

His hands fumbled with the parchment, finally getting it off and unrolling it enough to read. It was late, too late he suspected to be from Hermione but at the sight of her cursive Ron smiled.


Ron,
Please calm down. I can assure you that your Cannons sweater safe, and will be returned to you with no begging necessary.

It was tempting, but I’m willing to resist just because I love you. And it would be horrible to have a row with you, when I believe we’ve set a new record: three days. Good for us.

Anyways, do hurry home, please? It feels like days since I’ve seen you, and we’ve been owling each other all day too! Besides, the quicker you come home, the quicker you get your Cannons sweater back. And then you can thank me for remembering you dropped it on the floor and kicked it under the bed last week.

Told you I didn’t take it.

See you soon love!
-‘Mione


HE kicked it under the bed? His memory was jogged by her words, and if Ron remembered correctly it was her that was so intent on getting him out of that sweater that it was thrown haphazardly on the floor and forgotten.

Gathering up his papers quickly Ron shook his head, bidding a quick farewell to Harry. He was going to have to remember to look under the bed in future cases.