Falling

Fic Title: FallingAuthor Name: honouraryweasley12Primary Trope: HBP Missing MomentOther Represented Tropes (if any): N/ARating: PG-13Trigger Warnings (if any): Some swearing, a bit angstyBrief Summary: Only Hermione can bring out the best in Ron, especially during a tumultuous sixth year.

“Attention, please!”

Professor Flitwick took his place at the head of the class, drawing all eyes to him. The diminutive teacher cleared his throat and continued on.

“Today, and over the next several weeks, we will be working on NEWT-level charms. These are meant to help prepare you for more advanced charm work that will be required of you in your seventh year.”

Ron was trying his best to listen to his Charms professor, but it was difficult to concentrate. Hermione had actually asked him to go to Slughorn’s party with her! Despite their argument in the previous class, he admired the courage it took to ask, having been in the same situation two years ago.

It was finally a chance for something to happen, something that had been building for years. Now that they were on the cusp of potentially becoming more than friends, he could finally admit to himself how badly he wanted that to happen. Ron assumed it was supposed to be a date, though she’d said guest. He frowned for a moment, unsure of whether he was misinterpreting things.

He tried to replay what happened in his head. The way she’d reacted signaled to Ron that she meant it to be a date, and not just as friends. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so flustered and defensive. It was a moment of perception and he felt proud that things were suddenly so clear in his head.

He glanced over and caught her eye, giving her a grin. She smiled prettily at him and his heart soared, confirming his assumption. His smile grew larger as their eyes remained locked together. She finally shook her head and signalled to him to pay attention to the lecture.

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Really enjoyed this introspection into Ron's mind ❤

Title: Ron’s helping hand

Author: Iris_Blanche or Imnotfunnsblog 

Trope: Half blood prince missing moments

Rating: Teen and up 

Summary: What did Ron and Hermione do while Harry was away with Dumbledore? 

Harry looked at his watch and hurriedly put the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making back into his bag. I glared at it briefly wondering what evil it might hide within its pages. I rubbed the back of my neck the crick that had been bothering me since summer started acting up.  

“It’s five to eight, I’d better go, I’ll be late for Dumbledore,” he sighed tapping his foot on the ground. 

“Ooooh!” I gasped, looking up at once. “Good luck! We’ll wait up, we want to hear what he teaches you!” 

“Hope it goes okay,” said Ron, and we watched Harry leave through the portrait hole. I watched him go for a moment before following Ron to the common room. Ron sat himself down onto a Chesterfield near the fire. I continued to pace around the empty common room, people having long since gone to the dorms to lay and read. 

I could see Ron smirk from the corner of my eye and I rolled them, “Oh Ron do you think he’ll be ok?” 

It was Ron’s turn to roll his eyes, “he’ll be fine, they’ll be in the castle, and Dumbledore will be there,” he reasoned laying his head back. My eyes wandered to the column of his neck before I forced my eyes away. 

“I don’t trust that book,” I hissed the book’s mysterious origins wighing heavy in my already clouded mind.  

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So cute and flirty ❤

Fic Title: Markers and Signs

Author Name: grace_under_pressure0510!

Primary Trope: HBP Missing Moments

Rating: Teen

Brief: HBP missing moment immediately following Ron and Lavender’s breakup. What do Ron and Hermione get up to that night?

It was over. Lavender had cried and yelled and blamed and stomped her foot and waved her arms. But it was over. And honestly, it didn’t feel as great as he’d thought it would feel.

Lav was clearly pretty cut up over it and had accused him of all sorts of things, most of which Ron knew were not true or had never happened. But he hadn’t felt very motivated to speak up or defend himself. Now he was wondering if he’d ever participated in this relationship at all. Sure, there had been a lot of snogging at the beginning, but now, mixed in with his feelings of relief, he felt like a bit of a prick about the whole thing too.

Getting dumped was never a boost for one’s ego, so perhaps it was normal that he felt a bit down about it. It was sort of an odd thing really. He hadn’t set out to hurt her, and in reality, he wasn’t guilty of cheating on her, but he still had hurt her quite a bit. And as much as Ron had wanted to be rid of her the past few months, now that she’d finally granted him that wish, his relief was tempered by something heavy, like a weight bearing down on him. He really didn’t want to think about it anymore, but he hadn’t been able to focus on much else.

It was late now, and he was sitting across from Hermione and her stack of books, both of them waiting for Harry to come back. The Gryffindor Common Room was nearly empty except for a few stragglers heading off to bed.

“Do you think he’s still down at Hagrid’s?” Hermione spoke for the first time in hours, voicing her worry that Felix Felicis may have taken Harry down a wrong turn.

“Maybe. I’m sure he’s fine though. Whether or not he gets to Slughorn.”

Ron looked at Hermione to reassure her, but she kept her eyes on the page she was no longer reading. She was trying to gather her courage. She’d been desperate to say something to him the past few hours but she didn’t know how to bring it up. She didn’t want to seem overly interested in Ron’s love life, but she needed to know what had happened.

After all, it was a fair question, she reasoned to herself. They were friends. Friends asked each other how they were feeling, friends asked each other about their romantic relationships, especially after a very public display of crying and yelling. Half of Gryffindor had seen it walking by on their way back from dinner. Ron’s other friends would probably ask him about it, why shouldn’t she?

Keeping her eyes cast down, she willed herself to just say it.

“What did you…say to her?”

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Such a sweet cathartic moment! ❤

The Nature of Arthur Weasley

Fic Title: The Nature of Arthur Weasley Author Name: Mertronus Primary Trope: HBP Missing Moment Rating: G

—

“How’s school going, Ron?” his dad asked as he took a seat in the sitting room beside him. There was a dull excitement throughout The Burrow due to the holidays, if you could call it that. The decorations were up and music playing from the old wireless, and the many smells of his mum’s roast as well as other treats filled the air…but the war seemed to have dampened the atmosphere a bit.

That and a certain missing person, Ron thought glumly. He had no right to be upset, however. He was the reason she was absent after all.

“It’s going,” Ron thought, racking his brain for more to give him. He knew that his dad, while preoccupied with everything going on, still made an effort to stay on top of what was going on in his kids’ lives.

“Slughorn treating you well?” Ron gave him a look and he laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t exist in his line of sight, either. Don’t worry about that.”

“At least one Weasley is in Slug Club,” Ron muttered sardonically.

Arthur nodded. “It does seem like Ginny caught his attention. I’m sure if he truly gave you a look you would too.” He patted Ron’s knee affectionately and Ron gave him a wry smile. “Other classes going well?”

Ron nodded. “It’s a lot more work than I expected, but we’re managing. Harry and I.” Ron winced as soon as the words came out and he hoped his dad didn’t catch that.

“Hmm,” Arthur said, giving him a sideways glance. “I’m sure Hermione is keeping you both focused as well?”

Ron shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck, which was suddenly feeling warm under his dad’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Erm…well…” Ron sputtered unsure of what to say.

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LOVE this! Molly & Arthur always know what's up!

with wildflowers in her hair - romione trope fest submission

fic title: with wildflowers in her hair

author name: roonil_bilius_wazlib (ao3)

primary trope: hbp missing moment

rating: t 

trigger warning: mild language 

brief summary: Ron and Hermione enjoy a picnic at the Burrow in the summer before sixth year. Mutual pining and banter ensue. 

“Hermione! Oh, it’s so lovely to see you!” Mrs Weasley enthused as she pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace the moment she stepped out of the stone hearth and into the Burrow’s cosy kitchen. Despite only having been to the Weasley abode once before, Hermione immediately felt completely at ease — like she was exactly where she was meant to be. And truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to spend her summer anywhere else. Or with anyone else, other than one of the Burrow’s many residents. 

Upon releasing her, Mrs Weasley held her at arms’ length and scanned her from head to toe. “You’re looking a bit peaky, dear. Was it the Floo? Or, are you maybe feeling peckish? I was just about to put something on for lunch,” she fretted, before brushing off a bit of soot from Hermione’s shoulders.

And she probably was a bit peaky, but not from the Floo journey or from hunger – but in anticipation of seeing Ron. It was ridiculous, really. After all, she had spent countless hours upon days upon weeks in Ron’s company over the years. But the prospect of spending so much time with him alone – until Harry arrived, at least – had her nerves positively jangling. 

Admittedly, things had been a bit different between them since their time together in the hospital wing at the end of last term. Each evening, after their visitors had departed and Madam Pomfrey had turned off the lights and retired to her quarters, they would quietly rise from their beds and push them closer together. Once settled back under the covers, they would turn on their sides, facing each other, and talk quietly until they inevitably surrendered to sleep. The twilight hours made everything feel safer – they talked about everything and nothing, and every topic in between, lifting layers previously untouched, admitting insecurities and sharing stories long-forgotten. Though that time had been marked by the unbearable sadness of Sirius’ passing, Hermione had valued it for providing this new level of intimacy and solid friendship between her and Ron. It had always been there, deep down, but this extended time together had only made it more evident, more obvious. 

“That’s alright, Mrs Weasley. Thank you though, I appreciate it,” she assured her. “My parents said hello, by the way, and wanted me to thank you for having me.”  

“Oh, nonsense. You’re always welcome here,” she patted her cheek affectionately. “I dare say Ron would be quite pleased to have you here all summer if he could.” 

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Such a sweet summer moment! 🌻

Stale Biscuits and Desperate Kisses

Author Name: rlcandlejack

Primary Trope: Tent Angst

Rating: Teen

TW: None

Word Count: 3917

Summary: Alternative version of when Hermione nurses an injured Ron back to health right after escaping the Ministry of Magic

Author’s note: The following scene is inspired by Ghibli’s Princess Mononoke which I found very powerful and has stuck with me since I was a kid. This is NOT a kink, but it’s ok if you find it kinky.

“Over here, Harry!” I panted, as we stumbled through the tent flap, the pale late morning light casting our long shadows over the sofa and coffee table. Dust swirled around us as we supported Ron from both sides and carried him towards the nearest bunk, his feet dragging along the dusty floor. I laid Ron down on the threadbare bedding as gently as I could, propping his torso up with a couple of pillows, and pulled one of my Dad’s sleeping bags out of my beaded handbag to cover him. He’d been conscious momentarily while Harry was setting up the tent, but this excursion to the bed seemed to cost him the rest of his energy. He now laid in bed, eyes closed, his breath rapid and shallow, and a green tinge creeping up his already pale face. 

“Ron, how are you feeling? Would you like some tea?” I asked apprehensively. I barely caught the slight nod from Ron, the only response he could muster at the moment, and I shot a sharp look at Harry, who thankfully caught on and hurried over to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. For the next few minutes, I busied myself with cleaning the blood stains off of Ron so I could get a better look at raw skin covering his shoulder, the effect of the dittany on the splinched part of his shoulder. Thankfully the wound was completely closed now, so Ron wasn’t in danger of bleeding to death anymore. 

Harry returned with steaming mugs of tea, setting one down by the nightstand next to me, and handing one to me. As I waited for the tea to cool down, Harry and I planned our next steps. Our top priority would be nursing Ron back to health, but I hadn’t packed any Blood Replenishing Potion, and told him as much.

“It’s not your fault, Hermione,” He said, gently patting my shoulder. He could probably sense the guilt I’d been overcome with ever since we apparated here from the Grimmauld Place. Well, it was all my fault. If I hadn’t been caught by Yaxley, we wouldn’t have needed to disapparate again, and Ron wouldn’t have been splinched and lying here near death. On top of all of that, I had stupidly overlooked packing any kind of medical potions, even though I knew we would be embarking on this deadly mission. There might have been some useful potions in Moody’s trunk, but all I nicked from it was Polyjuice Potion! 

How could I have been so idiotic! 

Half of the space in my bag was taken up by books, which were utterly useless at the moment. My eyes burned as tears of frustration welled up in them. I felt so useless. Perhaps everyone at school was right. Perhaps I was just a know-it-all that was only good at answering questions in class and taking exams, skills that would be needed on this mission surely.

“None of our plans will go flawlessly on this mission,” Harry continued, firmly grabbing my shoulder now, “but we managed to all escape alive and in one piece, so stop beating yourself up Hermione.” He waited silently as I wiped away the dampness from my eyes, “So… What can we do?” Harry finally asked.

“Well, without a Blood Replenishing Potion, all we can do is let Ron rest and let his body naturally recover, and to do that he’ll need some food - Madam Pomfrey always fed us chocolate, remember? But… I didn’t pack any food either…” I trailed off and hung my head in shame, the steam from the mug in my hands billowing into my face.

“Don’t worry,” Harry responded quickly, “We can just go find some once we’re near a muggle village. Are there any nearby?”

I shook my head. We were camping where the Quidditch World Cup took place, which was chosen specifically because it was far from any muggles.

“Should we move then?” Harry looked between me and Ron doubtfully. We were in a dilemma. Ron wasn’t in any condition to move, but without any food he wouldn’t be able to recover enough to move.

“I could go find some. I have my cloak and - “

“No!” I cut Harry off, glancing towards the tent opening, where it was already getting dark, “at least not today. I don’t want to risk it yet. And you might not be able to find your way back in the dark. Let’s - Let’s at least wait until tomorrow and see how Ron is feeling.”

Harry ruffled his hair and gave Ron a worried glance. “Fine,” he eventually sighed, “I’ll keep watch outside tonight then.”

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I've Heard It All

Fic Title: I’ve Heard It All 

Author Name: Purple_Damianya/daehyunsbabyelf

Primary Trope: Tent Angst

Rating: General

Trigger Warnings: None

Brief Summary: Hermione misses Ron and realizes that she wasn’t alone in her self-loathing.

The ache in her stomach was killing her and the thought of having nothing else but water of mushroom soup made the pain sharper as the deep pangs of hunger also set in. Why, of all the myriad of things she had considered, did she forget about this – her own body? The first time she bled, she had consoled herself that at least they were at Grimmauld’s Place and there was access to stores to buy anything she needed. She had rifled through her books but for some reason books about the dark arts and Hogwarts A History did not contain any spells to help with the female reproductive system. And of course, she’s never had anyone to ask about how to stop a period, nor any reason to, until now. Suddenly, she really missed Molly Weasley and the warmth of the Burrow.

“Hey,” suddenly pulling her out of her misery was the voice she least wanted to hear right now. She looked up from where she was curled on the armchair and saw a gaunt face with solemn green eyes looking back at her. She felt a pang of guilt at her previous ill will. She wasn’t the only one suffering. Her eyes dropped to the heavy, grotesque item he held between his fingers. His wrist was turned away from him and she knew the feeling well. Neither of them liked the feeling the locket gave them.

Hermione’s hands reached out automatically to grab the locket but Harry pulled it away. “Listen, I can take another watch if you like. You… don’t look so good.”

His offer was tempting. Ever since He Who Must Not Be Named left them, the two of them had taken to shorter, more frequent shifts, and the constant exchange of the locket only made each wear worse. But, they were on a mission – a mission where Harry was the protagonist, the hero, the one who had to survive above all odds. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

It was with immense reluctance that Hermione took the locket and placed it over her head. Why they decided to wear it was beyond her. It was like having a piece of Voldemort branded against her skin and each time she moved, the heavy sway of the pendulum made it feel like a heavier burden than it already was. She grabbed a few blankets and a pillow which she charmed to remain heated and made her way out of the tent.

It was frigid. Thanks to her ailment, she’s been keeping track of how many months they’ve been on the run. It was almost Christmas. He has been gone for nearly two months. She shook her head to rid it of any thoughts of the bane of her existence.

He will never love you. And there it was. The voice that had haunted her ever since they found the locket. Ronald Weasley is a pureblood. No matter how he was raised, he would never sully his line with the likes of you, filthy Mudblood. The voice was a chill that wormed its way into her heart and slithered its way down her throat. It settled, heavy and coiled, in the depth of her stomach and she felt another stabbing pain. He left because he finally realized you weren’t worth fighting for. Not when he has so many other pureblood girls. You’re too serious for him. Look at how Lavender made him laugh. You’re too flat and even skinner now. Do you honestly believe a healthy, red-blooded man like him would look at you with anything akin to desire?

Each word cut into her heart and Hermione bit back a sob. There was a sharp ache in her breasts that had nothing to do with her monthly courses. None of this was real, she had to remind herself. It was just hormones and despair at their lack of progress. That was all. She looked down at the pillow she was holding to her womb. It was just a lumpy gray thing but she saw the vibrant shock of hair lying on top of it and the bright eyes which often looked up at her while the owner of said eyes rested on the pillow. Hermione bit back a sob that gripped the back of her throat. She missed him and hated him so much.

And that’s all you’ll ever do. He’s safe at home and you’re out here, starving. You’ll likely be killed by Death Eaters and the Boy Who Lived with you. He would know he did the right thing. You were useless and never meant to be on this hunt anyway. What have you contributed? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You splinched the only man you ever wanted and can’t even cook to keep him nourished. Why would he want you? You’re better off dead like Mudbloods deserve to be.

Luckily, it was at that moment that the tent flap opened and Harry walked out with a steaming cup in his hand. “I found some tea leaves in your bag. Have some. Give me the locket too. Go in and rest.”

She took the cup gratefully from him and brought it to her lips. The liquid scalded her lips but it was a welcome sensation from the coldness she had felt just minutes earlier. She yanked the chain over her neck and handed it off. The relief didn’t come and the sinister words from earlier echoed in her mind. She tried to ignore it and reminded herself fiercely that it was just her hormones and they too shall pass.

~*~

The image of the snake bursting from Bathilda Bagshot’s decaying body still haunted her. The massive head rearing out and the bag of skin falling apart moments before utter mayhem ensued. She had woken up from several naps with a scream building in her lungs at this very image and tonight was no different. But when she looked at the mouth of the tent, she no longer saw the tip of wand light and the hunched shadow which indicated Harry was on watch.

Alarmed, Hermione swung her legs over the bed and grabbed the first sweater she could find. It smelled achingly familiar and when she looked down, she saw the giant ‘R’ knitted into the maroon and felt tears prick behind her eyes. But she didn’t have time to think. Where was Harry? Hermione wished she had her wand but knew that without Harry, she would be useless even with a thousand wands. She stuck her feet in her boots and walked out.

In the distance, she saw a silvery glow of what looked like a patronus. Surely not. Not here where nobody knew where they were. Through the trees, she saw a figure dart into the light and then the sound of water splashing. “Harry!” She forced her legs to propel herself forward, hurrying as much as she could despite the icy ground and branches blocking her way. There was another sound and another splash and her heart was pounding in her ears. Who else could there be? Was this it? The end of their journey? The end of the wizarding world as she knew it? She pushed through branches but nature was determined to hinder her. In her haste, she cut herself on thorns and tripped over vines. By the time she reached the area where she thought she had heard Harry fall into water, the soft glow was gone and all was dark.

Suddenly, she saw an eerie green light. There were whispers, not unlike the ones she heard in her mind whenever she had the locket, and suddenly shadowy figures. Figures which looked perversely like herself and Harry. Hermione found herself unable to look away. “Ron!” She barely registered that it was Harry shouting and shouting the one name that neither had spoken in the last two months.

The figures were speaking now and her eyes filled with tears, blurring the fiendish images before her. “We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence…” The Harry pantomime was saying. “Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One?” The words coming out of her, not her, voice was worse and she wanted to scream and drown them out.

“Your mother confessed that she would have preferred me as a son…”

“Who wouldn’t prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him.” Hermione watched in horror as the distorted version of her stretched up and entwined itself around the image of Harry and kissed him. Her stomach turned and she wanted to throw up. Unable to watch anymore, Hermione turned and stumbled her way back to the tent.

How dare he? She was furious. Her ears burned hot with betrayal and also a sinking realization. How foolish was he to think that she would ever prefer Harry when he was the one she wanted to make laugh, to make happy, to be with? Was that why he left? Was this petty reason why she had to cry herself to sleep every night for the last sixty days? She somehow found her way to the tent and yanked his sweater over her head and threw it into the depths of her bag, hoping somehow that she would never see it again. Never see him again.

Hermione crawled into bed and tried to ignore the throbbing in her uterus as she clamped a hand over her mouth and sobbed. She hated him. She hated him. She hated him. But when she drifted off to sleep, she could only dream about the boy she loved. The one with the cornflower blue eyes, loose smile, and a million freckles which spread across his face like secrets she wanted to kiss. Her subconscious ached for him, pitied him that he had those dark thoughts, and realized that she wasn’t alone in her self-loathing. Her fingers curled around the blanket over her and she wished that it wasn’t too late for her to show him that she loved him.   

Hermione’s Cake

Fic Title: Hermione’s Cake

Author Name: misfit_romione 

Primary Trope: Tent Angst

Other Represented Tropes: Magical Mishap

Rating: T (but later chapters will be E)

Brief Summary: Hermione concocts an interesting way to get Ron to reveal everything he had been hiding from her

—

Ron was moaning across from her, and Hermione couldn’t stand it. 

She supposed she should be flattered. After all, it was her cake producing the effect.  

“Sowwy.”

Hermione looked up from her cauldron to find Ron staring at her across the kitchen table, mouth bulging and white frosting dotting his lips. Her heart softened despite herself. 

“I’s jus’ so goo’,” he added. 

As much as she still harbored resentment towards Ron for leaving, she wanted to do something special for his birthday. Between galvanizing the horcrux mission while Harry descended into hallows madness and being exceedingly patient with Hermione on her path to forgiveness, there was no denying Ron had been on his best behavior since his return. He even took the lead in cooking and, much to the ire of Harry and Hermione, discovered he had quite a knack for it. The cake she had made wasn’t anything special (chocolate with buttermilk frosting), but it was the most she could do. It was, in fact, thanks to Ron’s insistence to plan a one-time Muggle market excursion to buy enough kitchen staples to be replicated for a year that Hermione was able to sneak the necessary supplies.  

“It’s alright,” she said with a small smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

Ron took a massive gulp of milk to clear his airway. “Like it?” he repeated. “I love it! I can’t decide if I had a better birthday this year or the last.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Last year you nearly died, Ron.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, looking at his empty plate with a soft, wry laugh. He was quiet for a moment before adding, “But you came back into my life after I thought I’d lost you forever." 

Hermione’s heart stopped for a moment, but she looked down and remained silent, even as she felt his eyes on her. Yes, such a confession was unbearably romantic and yes, she wanted more, but something kept holding her back…

"So how’s the veritaserum coming along?” Ron asked, ultimately taking the hint.  

Hermione sighed. “Poorly. I was sure the Saraca asoca would be a suitable replacement for Saraca indica, but I should have known…Golpalott’s Sixth Law—”

Ron covered his ears. “Merlin, please don’t remind me about Golpalott’s damn laws. I had enough of you yammering about them last year.” Inexplicably, he cast her a shifty glance before curving his mouth into a half-smile. “You know, I can’t really say I’m disappointed the potion didn’t brew." 

"Why not?”

“Well, I’d’ve been your experimental pixie, yeah? Don’t reckon I’m ready to share all my secrets with you just yet.”

Hermione gasped. “What…?”

She trailed off, for Ron had suddenly gotten up from his seat and crouched in front of her. His mysterious smile was gone, and his blue eyes bored into hers searchingly. Once he had found what he was looking for, he leant forward, brushed curls away from her face, and kissed her cheek. His lips on her skin was a soft shock. Cheek kisses had become somewhat of a norm between them between the end of sixth year and the ministry mission. But it had been the first time while they were on the run.

“Thank you for the birthday cake,” he said with such tender sincerity that it made Hermione ache. “It was really lovely and far more than what I deserved after, you know, everything.”

Without another word, Ron walked off towards the living room to begin planning for their next foray. 

Hermione turned back to her potion, her mind furiously working up a plot. As far as Hermione was concerned, Ron’s referencing of his secrets was an invitation to dig deeper. It may not be the most ethical option, but it was clear neither of them were happy with the status quo. It was clear that Ron, just as she did, wanted to move far beyond melancholy glances and timid cheek kisses. They had to fully clear the air, and Ron owed it to her to start the process. Even if he didn’t agree, all’s fair in love and war… Isn’t that what he said after all…?

Half an hour later, she approached him in the sitting area. Ron sat on the floor, resting his back against the sofa as his legs sprawled under the coffee table. Open before him was a map that he looked upon with such concentration that she had only ever seen with chess. Hermione stood patiently by the sofa’s armrest for him to look up, which he did not long after she had joined him. 

“It’s done,” she said with confidence. 

Ron took a moment to work out what she meant. “The veritaserum? You did it?" 

She nodded, biting her lip.  

"But how did you work around Golpalott’s Sixth Law?”

“I figured it out,” Hermione said smugly. She tutted as Ron looked at her in disbelief. “Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me."  

Still skeptical, Ron lifted himself from the floor and walked to the cauldron while Hermione remained rooted by the armrest. She observed him even as he had his back to her. 

"Well, it’s certainly not cloudy anymore…” Ron mused. He suddenly lifted his head and took a very large sniff in the direction of the cake before whipping to face Hermione. 

“Did…did you put an Appetizing Charm on the cake?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coolly 

He continued to gaze at her suspiciously while clearly fighting the lure of her charm. With a groan, he turned back to the table and cut a sizable piece of the cake before sitting down and shoveling forkfuls into his mouth.  

“Urg-ni-anee,” Ron groaned. He closed his eyes and titled his head back in bliss as he chewed and swallowed. “If we ever get married…" 

His head snapped back into place while Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. 

"Fuck, Hermione, I- I didn’t-”

“You…you want to marry me?” Hermione breathed.

Cake! 🎂

Voices

by Wallenby

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Honey, I Shrunk my Best Mate

Fic Title: Honey, I Shrunk my Best Mate

Author Name: grace_under_pressure0510!

Primary Trope: Magical Mishap

Rating: Teen

Brief: A magical mishap causes Harry to help Ron and Hermione get together in Sixth Year. A “fix it” dear to my heart where Ron and Lavender never happened.

Warning: may contain Lavender bashing. But I do love writing her as a Girl Boss / Mean Girl.

  “I’m telling you, Malfoy is up to something.”

“Whatever mate.” Ron sighed. “I really don’t care about what stupid shit he gets up to late at night.”

“Just come check it out with me.”

They were already walking in that direction. Ron could certainly think of better ways to spend a Saturday, but Harry had been so fixated on this Malfoy thing, he was momentarily distracted from Quidditch.

“As long as you’re not dragging us to another practice today,” Ron muttered.

The two of them arrived at the Room of Requirement, finding it packed full of all sorts of stuff. Harry began a methodical search, looking diligently at each item, while Ron poked around for anything interesting. He blew the dust off a heavy book.

“You really think Malfoy’s up here reading A History of Trolls between the Wars?”

“No, but he’s doing something up here.”

“Well, what could he possibly be using this for?” Ron juggled an odd looking coil slinky between his hands.

“Just keep looking.”

“For what? Something all evil and ferret like?”

Harry was opening and closing trunks and cabinets, intent on his search. Ron kicked a box over and a spider crawled out from underneath it. He screamed.

“Ahhh!”

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I will never get enough of HBP Romione!

Don't You Remember

Fic Title: Don’t You Remember Author Name: voldemorts-tap-shoes/smjl Primary Trope: Magical Mishap Other Represented Tropes (if any): Second Chance, All Grown Up Rating: M Trigger Warnings (if any): divorce (happy ending, I promise) Brief Summary: After her research into memory charms goes awry, Hermione is left without any memories of the last five years of her life. Including how her relationship with Ron fell apart. Now she has two weeks to fix things before she loses him for good.

Consciousness seeps into her slowly, one sense at a time. Touch: the stiff, uncomfortable mattress beneath her. Taste: her own tongue, heavy and awkward in her mouth like she’s swallowed a bag of cotton balls. Smell: the sterile, overpowering aroma of strong cleaners. Sound: the rhythmic beeping to her left and the flurry of hushed voices to her right.

Finally, Hermione’s eyes crack open only to shut again quickly against the blinding white light above her. She turns her head and tries again, a single eye this time through which she spies a putrid but familiar shade of lime green. Merlin knows once they left Hogwarts, they’d merely replaced their frequent visits to the hospital wing with trips to St. Mungo’s. Her surroundings are obvious, but despite her body aching like she’s been trampled by a dragon, the reason she’s here isn’t so clear. Usually she’s a visitor to the hospital, sitting at the bedside of one of her nieces or nephews or her two idiot best friends—one of whom she’d married, of course.

As her vision begins to adjust to the light, Hermione takes a measured look around the room, finding herself alone. Whoever the voices from a few moments ago belonged to, they’re gone now. Where is Ron? She can’t remember either of them ever being in the hospital alone, even if they had to defy stern looks and rigid visiting hours from the healers to do it. Was he on a mission? No, that doesn’t sound right, although Hermione couldn’t say that with any certainty. Everything seems a bit fuzzy at the moment. She must be on some heavy-duty pain potions.

Before Hermione can begin to make sense of the machinery she’s hooked up to—which also looks quite serious—the door to her room opens and a healer bustles in, a witch who looks just a bit older than Hermione. “It’s nice to see you awake,” the healer says as she fiddles with the machine by Hermione’s bedside, casting a series of nonverbal spells and then making notes on the clipboard at her hip. “We’ve all been so worried about you.”

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😭 you better put my heart back together, @voldemorts-tap-shoes

An Astounding Sense of Direction

An Astounding Sense of Direction

adenei

Primary Trope: Magical Mishap

Secondary Trope: HBP MM

Rating: T

TW: None

Brief Summary: Thanks to Draco’s stunt on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the year, Hermione and Ron are now stuck sweeping the train upon its arrival from London after the holidays. Everything is fine until they need to get back to the castle. Will that finally be the moment that breaks their months long silence?

_______

Hermione stepped off the Hogwarts Express after waving her wand one last time to check for any stragglers. It was a new rule, apparently, or so they’d learned during the Prefects’ meeting an hour prior. The Head Boy and Girl said they were given instructions to do a final sweep of the train upon arrival after an ‘incident’ in September. An incident Hermione knew everything about—because Draco had purposefully cursed and left Harry there to travel back to London.

Naturally, Hermione hadn’t agreed with Harry’s intention of spying on his arch nemesis, but Draco really shouldn’t have done what he did either. And now, thanks to him, a new set of responsibility had been set upon the rest of them.

Except it wasn’t all of the Prefects. No, the Head Boy and Girl decided to assign the duty to a Prefect duo, replacing it with one of their round assignments. And, unlucky for Hermione, she and Ron were the ones up next on the schedule. Which meant they had to complete the sweep.

It had taken everything in her to remain passive and not argue once it was announced. If she said anything, she might risk something worse than the quiet schedule switches she’d been arranging with Hannah and Padma. Besides, it wasn’t like they needed to patrol the train together. He could start at one end, she on the other. They wouldn’t even have to speak.

And that’s exactly what they did.

Now that it was over, she could go back to pretending he didn’t exist, and he could go back to Lavender Brown to continue sucking her face off.

The cold wind hit her face so forcefully that she’d almost forgotten she’d even cast Homenum Revelio. But it’d come up empty anyway. Looking ahead, she was disheartened to realize there weren’t any more carriages waiting to depart for the castle.

I swear, if I have to walk all the way—

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Such a subtle magical mishap that packs quite a punch! Loved this ❤️

Hexed And Vexed

Fic Title: Hexed And VexedAuthor Name: honouraryweasley12Primary Trope: Magical MishapOther Represented Tropes (if any): HBP Missing MomentRating: PG-13Trigger Warnings (if any): Some swearing, a bit angstyBrief Summary: A spell accident leads to an unintended kiss and a very tricky Valentine’s Day.

Lavender was hanging all over Ron as they waited impatiently outside of the DADA classroom with the rest of the Gryffindor sixth-years, for a special evening class. “Won-Won, you just have to do something special for our first Valentine’s Day together! It’s tomorrow!”

Ron grunted noncommittally and looked away from his girlfriend. The thought of Valentine’s Day was already making him queasy, and worse of all, guilt gnawed at his gut. He didn’t think he and Lavender would still be a thing by now, and he hadn’t worked up the courage to ditch her, as much as he wanted to. He still answered since he felt bad.

“You know we can’t go anywhere because of what happened to Katie Bell.”

Lavender dropped her head onto his shoulder. “You can whisk me away for a special night. It’ll be so romantic.”

Ron furrowed his brow, exasperated at her daftness. “Valentine’s Day is a Wednesday. Besides, even if we could, that wouldn’t be safe.”

“But Wonnnieee, it needs to be memorable.”

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Hermione-Lav body swap!

I Have No Cock and I Must Cum: Ron

Title: I Have No Cock and I Must Cum: Ron

Author: rlcandlejack

Primary Trope: Magical Mishap

Rating: M

Word Count: 3202

Brief: Takes place in an AU where Ron joins WWW right after the war instead of following Harry to the Aurors. Ron starts the adult line of WWW and becomes a sex god to Hermione, who is a high achieving ministry member in this AU.

A green flame appeared in the fireplace, and I jumped up from the sofa where I had been sitting, awake, and tapping my feet for the whole night, waiting for Hermione to arrive home from her conference in Denmark. Finally, my suffering would come to an end now that she was home. 

“Hermione!” I let out a high pitched bark that ended in a whimper, making her jump out of her boots. “Where’s my cock?” I held out my hands desperately and stumbled forward. 

“Ron! Wha- Why are you naked!” She spluttered, backing away. 

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One Mind

Fic Title: One Mind Author Name: Mertronus Primary Trope: Magical Mishap Other Represented Tropes (if any): Tent Angst Rating: T Trigger Warnings (if any): none

—

Hermione stood outside the tent with her arms crossed across her chest.  In the distance she could see a tall redheaded figure skipping stones across the lake where they were camped.  He’d been back just a couple of weeks and she had yet to have an actual conversation with him—a fact that she was perfectly fine with.

Who was she kidding…she was not.  She was not fine with any of this.  Godric she missed him.  And yet he infuriated her.  He’d hurt her so badly.  He’d LEFT her.  He’d left THEM.

She wanted so badly to hold onto the anger, so she did.  She held every move he made over his head in contempt.  She fussed if he snored, despite the fact that his soft snores comforted her at night. She fussed at him over his lewd table manners, despite the fact that she found herself mesmerized by every single movement of his mouth, lips and tongue as he ravished whatever he was eating.  She fussed when he needed a wash, despite the fact that she found his scent intoxicating.  She fussed at him when he took too long having a wash, despite the fact that she was able to steal looks at his hard, wet chest and follow the little line of ginger hairs that disappeared behind his towel leading to—

Hermione shook the thought from her head, thankful that he couldn’t read her thoughts.  She focused back on Ron, only to find that he was no longer by the lake.  He was walking toward the tent—his eyes locked on hers.

“Walk with me,” he said.  His tone was soft, but there was no question in his voice.  This was a command.  His blue eyes stared into her round, brown ones…his gaze somehow softened her.

She glanced back into the tent, where Harry was trying to tune into Potterwatch on the wireless.

“He’s fine.  And we won’t be long.“  Hermione looked back at Ron and he jerked his head.  "Walk with me.”

“Why?”

“We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Hermione,” Ron gritted his teeth, “we have everything to talk about." 

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FINALLY they can be honest with each other ❤ loved everything about this!

The Truth of It

The Truth of It

By HPFanTed

A Magical Mishap

Ron has one of those days where nothing goes right. It’s chaos and carnage from the beginning, here’s hoping there’s a silver otter lining for the pandemonium the poor fella has had to endure.

Kudos always to KateNotEight! The bestest beta, who has the patience of a grammatical saint and writes wonderful Romione ❤️

3k words - Chapter 1 of 2

Rating: M (language)

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There was a hubbub of disjointed chatter in the potions classroom, a clear indication that Professor Slughorn did not hold the 6th year student’s attention. The cauldrons were bubbling with potions of varying levels of success, and apart from Harry’s, none of them looked even remotely acceptable. 

Neville had a dark green sludge trying to escape its pewter confines, Seamus and Dean were displaying a great show of teamwork as they stoked and dampened their fire while passionately discussing the finer details of last week’s Quidditch match, while Hermione pushed frizzy hair from her face counting clockwise motions. 

“Right then, everyone. Settle down, settle down. Next, we need to locate the fire seeds. I’ve left a selection of various seed-like ingredients on your benches. We find the correct ones by gently touching it to the very tip of the tongue. You should feel a gentle warmth, like you’ve eaten a Scotch Bonnet.” The Professor instructed as he meandered between their stations. “Give it a go, then.”

“What the hell does she even see in that idiot McLaggen? What would they even talk about?” Ron said in hushed angry whispers. “Shit, what did Slug say?”

“Dunno.” Harry looked up from his text book. He’d buried his head the minute Ron started to discuss Cormac for the hundredth time. “Something about checking seeds?” He looked around the room and watched Ernie lick a small brown sphere. “Eat it? I’m not sure, let me check what the Prince says.” 

Ron lifted a seed from the first pile and popped it in his mouth before crunching down on it. “Ugh, aniseed. Gross! What am I supposed to be looking for here, mate?” 

“Dunno.” Harry repeated, flicking through his intricately annotated textbook. Ron lifted a red seed from the pile. “WAIT…” but the warning was too late. 

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Ron Weasley - "a verbal bomb about to explode" this was so clever, excited to read more!