it’s wishful (not thinking what to do)
For the lovely Lucy @sgtapepper, who gave me so many ideas to work with! I really hope you enjoy this as I had so much fun writing it
PSA: This is set early in the summer before Deathly Hallows
Hermione did not want to go to the Wilson’s garden party. At all. Normally, she wouldn’t mind attending events like this. She generally like summer garden parties. But the fact that the Wilson’s were hosting it made her want to take one of the twin’s puking pastilles. But, she had promised her parents, and she didn’t know how much more time she would have with them. And, since she had received her own invitation, she invited Ron, so it wouldn’t horribly unbearable. At the moment, however, she was severely regretting that decision. She was running around her house like a mad woman, trying to make herself presentable without any magic to help. Her mum had twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, so her curls were in check, but she was struggling to remember which steps to put on her makeup.
“Hermione, you need to hurry up, your friend will be here soon,” her mother shouted from downstairs.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” she shouted back, quickly finishing with her BB cream. “I give up,” she muttered under her breath, shoving the bronzer, blush, and eyeshadows into her drawer. She swiped on a coat of mascara and put on the brown lipstick her mum bought her to go with the light blue dress she was wearing. She slipped into the white heeled sandals that her mum insisted on, and grabbed her purse, and quickly went downstairs.
“You look wonderful, Hermione,” her dad said, smiling at her. “I don’t know why you were so worried for this party,” he admitted.
“I’m not worried,” she started to explain before her mum cut in.
“She just doesn’t want to see Emma Wilson, isn’t that right?” she asked Hermione with an arched eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged, “There are somethings I’d rather not relive from primary school, and she is at the top of the list.”
“I’m sure she’s grown up, Hermione,” her mum reasoned.
“And if not, I’m sure she won’t be that hard to avoid,” her dad murmured, earning him a smack on the chest from her mom.
Just as they started to bicker, bright green light flashed in the fireplace. “Ron,” she beamed as he stepped out of from under the mantle. He was wearing a pair of dark blue slacks that just barely reached the tops of his feet and a crisp, white button down. He was also wearing a pair of brown oxfords that had clearly belonged one of his brothers, but were well cared for. As he straightened up, Hermione released that he had shot up yet again. He had to be at least 185 centimeters and his shoulders had filled out even more. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught staring.
She walked over and gave him a hug, her head barely reaching his shoulder in her three inch heels. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered, giving him a quick squeeze before letting go of him.
“Of course,” he murmured, back as he stepped back.
“It’s good to see you, Ron,” her mum greeted, offering her his hand. Ron shook it.
“You as well, both of you,” Ron said, nodding to her dad as he shook his hand as well.
“We should go. We don’t want to be late,” her dad said, ushering all of them out the door.
Ron quickly looked at Hermione. “We won’t have to take a car, will we?” he asked, a look of pure dread crossing his face.
Hermione laughed, “No, we’re walking. The Wilson’s only live a few blocks down.” As soon as she said it, all of the tension left Ron’s body and he huffed a sigh of relief.
“Not a fan of cars, Ron?” her Dad asked as he locked the door.
“I haven’t had the best experiences in them, no,” Ron explained, smiling slightly. “We don’t really have much use for them, with the floo system and what not. I know a few people who love ‘em, but as no one in my family can really drive them very well…” he trailed off, grimacing. Her dad chuckled at look on Ron’s face before nodding,
“Why don’t we get going?” her mum suggested, trying to move everyone away from the topic.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” Ron told her, the tips of his ear going red.
“You don’t look half-bad, yourself,” Hermione replied, smiling when his cheeks turned bright red as well.
Ron cleared his throat before looking away for a bit. “So, what exactly about this party made you so desperate for company?” Ron asked. “Not that it’s a problem,” he added quickly, “I’m just curious.”
“One of the girls who made my life hell in primary school, Emma Wilson. Her family is hosting the party and I really want to spend as little time with her as possible,” Hermione explained. “I really appreciate you coming. It does mean a lot to me,” she said, moving a little closer to Ron.
“It really isn’t a problem,” He reassured her. “If anything, I should be thanking you. It’s been pure madness at the Burrow, with all the wedding planning going on. I keep thinking Mum is going to have stroke, with how stressed she is,” he told her, both of them laughing slightly. The talked about his family for the rest of the walk, specifically the twins and the shop.
When they turned the corner onto the Wilson’s street, Hermione felt her shoulders tense up. Ron grabbed her hand when he noticed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right here,” he soothed, squeezing her hand. “And she can’t be any worse than Malfoy, right?” he teased lightly, though he didn’t let go of her hand.
Hermione let out a deep breath and squared her shoulders, “You’re right,” she smiled.
Ron smirked playfully, “It’s been known to happen every now and then.”
The first hour or so of the party went by without a problem. Hermione had seen neither hide nor hair of Emma, and she and Ron spent most of their time talking with each other and people from Hermione’s neighborhood. Of course, it wasn’t until Ron had to use the bathroom that Emma decided it was time to greet Hermione herself. Emma had always been the antithesis of Hermione, with her pin-straight blonde hair, fair skin, and perfectly put together outfits. She’d clearly mastered the art of makeup since year five, and her mint green dress was immaculate as ever.
“Hermione, it’s so good to see you,” Emma crooned sweetly. “Ever since you got accepted to that boarding school, it’s like you’re never home, even in the summer,” she pouted, head slightly cocked.
“I tend to spend my summers on vacation with my parents and then with my friend and his family,” Hermione explained, trying to gauge where this conversation was going.
“Oh,” Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m so glad the rumors are true,” she giggled. Hermione raised her eyebrows, not wanting to start anything with Emma, but wanted to know what people thought of her.
“You don’t know?” Emma gasped before all but dragging Hermione towards the corner of the yard. “Some people have been saying that you just spend your summer at the school, cause you don’t have anyone to visit,” she explained, pouting again.
“Is that so?” Hermione asked dryly, lips pursed tightly. She had very little doubt about the origins of that rumor.
“You can understand why they would think that, though, right?” Emma went on as if she hadn’t noticed Hermione’s expression. “I mean, in primary school, you always did spend most of your time by yourself, reading and studying and whatever. You never really had any friends. And let’s be honest, you’ve always been so different,” she said, a small smile on her lips and a vicious look in her eyes. “What else were people to think when we never saw you?” she asked, her voice still sickly sweet.
Hermione took a deep breath through her nose and tried to control her anger. It was not a go idea to goad Emma Wilson on, but everything within her wanted to smack the smug look off the other girl’s face. Before she could figure out a way to leave, she felt an arm wrap around her.
“There you are,” Ron sighed. “I’ve been looking for you for the past two minutes. I thought you had left me stranded,” he said teasingly, before leaning down and kissing her cheek. In her ear, he murmured, “Just roll with it, I’ve got you.”
Hermione quickly glanced at him before nodding. He was always better at thinking on his feet than she was. And she was okay with anything that let her lean into Ron’s side the way she was now. Before she could get too swept up in all of this, Emma cleared her throat. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she smiled at Ron, offering him her hand, “I’m Emma Wilson.”
Ron shook her hand quickly before dropping it, “My name is Ron. Ron Weasley. I’m Hermione’s boyfriend,” he said pleasantly, with a bit of darkness in his eyes. Hermione kept smiling, fighting of a wince. It almost hurt to hear him say that when he was lying to help her out, after how long she had wanted it.
“Oh,” Emma blinked quickly, “I didn’t realize Hermione had a boyfriend.”
“It’s rather new,” Hermione added, leaning further into Ron’s side, resting her head on his shoulder, trying to look convincing. “We’ve been best friends since our first year, but it took both of us a while to figure out what we were doing,” she laughed lightly, silently wishing that the words she spoke were true.
Ron snorted, “I think you mean me, Mione. You’ve always had your head in the right place. I’ve just been particularly slow on the uptake and too scared to do anything about it.”
Hermione laughed and leaned into him further, wondering where he was going with this. “I don’t know, I’ve acted pretty childishly, too. Unless you’ve forgotten about the McLaggen Incident?” she teased, looking up at him, with an eyebrow raised.
“That is something I don’t think either of us will ever be able to forget. Who would have thought the best student at the school could make such an awful decision?” he teased, before looking back at Emma, who had an expression of shock on her face. “Sorry about interrupting you two,” he apologized with no sincerity at all, “What were you talking about?”
Emma quickly shook her head and composed herself, before smirking slightly. “Just how no one here ever really sees Hermione over summer break. You know, she mentioned staying at a friend’s house with his family, do you know them?” she asked, clearly trying to start something.
“Well, given that it’s my family, I’d say I know them fairly well,” Ron joked.
“And you’re parents don’t have a problem with her staying with you?” Emma asked, clearly surprised.
“Are you joking? My mum loves having another girl in the house other than my sister, and Dad thinks the world of Hermione. Having her over is practically tradition. You’ve been staying with us since what, fourth year?” Ron asked, looking down a Hermione with complete adoration. She wished he wouldn’t. She could play this out to get Emma to go away, but she couldn’t pretend it was just that if he kept looking at her like that.
Hermione focused on thinking about the topic at hand, and not Ron’s eyes. “Third, if you could the time we all stayed at the Leaky,” Hermione pointed out, looking up at him before turning to Emma. “Point is, no, his parents don’t mind. They didn’t mind before and they certainly don’t mind now,” She explained.
“Ah,” Emma said, smiling tightly. “I think I see my mom waving at me, I should see what she wants. It was nice to meet you Ron, and good seeing you, Hermione,” she said hurriedly before practically running across the garden.
Once she was gone, Hermione pulled away from Ron. “Thank you for that,” she muttered, not quite looking Ron in the eye, “You didn’t have to do that much.”
“Hey,” Ron whispered, walking closer to her and turning her face towards him. “I wanted to. I saw how angry you were getting and I figured that that was the girl you told me about. I promised you that I would be there for you,” he explained gently. He looked away and scratched behind his ear. “And, maybe it wasn’t entirely for you,” he murmured under his breath, so quiet Hermione almost didn’t hear it.
“Really?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide and locked on his.
Ron huffed out a small laugh, “Merlin, Hermione. It’s not like I’ve been exactly subtle.”
“Neither have it,” Hermione shot back. “If you felt the same way, then why didn’t you-”
“I was telling the truth about being scared. I thought, after everything last year, you well- you wouldn’t want that sort of thing with me anymore,” he admitted, looking at his shoes.
“You’re a bloody idiot sometimes, you know that?” Hermione huffed, shaking her head.
Ron’s brow creased, “What did I do n-” He was cut off by Hermione pressing her lips to his, doing what she has wanted to do for years now. It was long or particularly passionate, after all, they were in public and Hermione was fairly certain that her parents could see them. But it was everything she had wanted, and when she pulled away, Ron was looking at her with complete awe. She had to purse her lips to keep from laughing at his expression and then pulled him in for a hug.
“I’m really glad you did that,” Ron whispered into her hair.
“I am too,” Hermione whispered back, before lifting her head. At some point, someone had started playing music. “Dance with me?” Hermione asked, lifting her head to look at Ron.
“Sure,” he smiled down at her as he lead them to the impromptu dance floor a few other people were using. Hermione put her arms on his shoulders around Ron’s shoulders and he put his around her waist and they both started swaying to the rhythm of the song. They needed to talk about what had just happened, but for now, they were happy, simply swaying to the song and holding each other tight.
We’ve been calling it love
But it’s a dream we’re going through
And if I only had one love
Yours would be the one I’d choose
