#side hinny

For the drunk prompts, I just totally see Hermione saying this to Ronniekins"I've always loved you. But I will never tell you."

Hi there, anon! Thanks so much for this prompt. It took me a while but here it is!

I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading 😊🍻🍹🥃

Prompt: “I’ve always loved you. But I will never tell you” from @creativepromptsforwriting’s drunken love confessions prompt list here

Amidst the neon lights

Summary: Ron experiences the challenges of keeping his partying friends in check, especially his girlfriend, who experiences her first episode of excessive drinking.

Amidst the neon glow of the club and the smell of alcohol lingering in the air, a lively atmosphere filled with laughter and music enveloped the small group of friends. The past months had been tough on everyone, Auror Training and N.E.W.T.S. had taken a toll on all of them, and tonight was about letting go.

As the night unfolded, Ron watched how Hermione found herself lost in the rhythm of the music, swaying to the beat with an almost contagious energy.

Happy Friday! This week, I picked the theme "Whispers" and here are a few fics that fit that in different ways.

Please give the authors some love! Some of the stories are a little older but they still deserve to hear if you enjoy the stories!

Next week's theme is mail. If you have any favorites, put them in my ask!

Fall Into Place by cirque A one-shot post DH AU where Percy leaves the Weasleys but finds his way home eventually again.

Skin by Will_Solaces_sister Dean overhears a conversation between Ron and Harry.

Rumors by @mertronus A little 6th year AU where Ron hears some whispers about himself and Hermione

Loud As a Whisper by ThisIsMyTruthTellMeYours A great Harry and Hermione friendship during the Horcrux hunt fic with no romantic pretense and no Ron bashing.

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding. 

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend. 

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis. 

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd. 

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face. 

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender. 

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her. 

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes. 

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head. 

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me. 

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?” 

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go. 

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?” 

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand. 

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs. 

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?” 

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest. 

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?” 

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body. 

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant. 

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

In honor of our dearest's birthday, I've written this sweet little thing for the original Romione shipper :D

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY JAMES POTTER!

Enjoy your gift *teeheehee*

TW: mention of sex/sexual encounters (non-explicit)

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“Our first kiss was after the Yule Ball. We argued, and then stormed off to bed, but I couldn’t sleep so I went back to the Common Room to look for my book from earlier. Ron was there staring at the fire. I could tell that the will to argue was gone from him as much as it was from me so we sat and talked. I confessed that I had wanted him to ask me and when he didn’t, I said yes to someone else. He said he wanted to but was afraid, so I told him to grow some bollocks...and he did. He leaned in and kissed me.

Things were pretty awkward for a bit after that. In fact, we didn’t kiss again or even talk about the kiss until we were on the train heading home. He pulled me into an empty compartment to talk about Harry - we were so worried - and that led to him confessing that he was worried about me heading home. Meanwhile, I was afraid for him being in the Wizarding world while I would be essentially hidden in the Muggle world. We were both pretty unwilling to separate.

‘I’ll miss you,’ he said to me.

I smiled up at him and said, ‘I’ll miss you too.’

‘Be careful,’ he practically whispered. ‘Come to the Burrow as soon as you can.’

I promised I would, and he kissed me.

By the time I joined him that summer, we were all heading to Grimmauld Place. We spent a good amount of time alone - Harry had yet to arrive and Ginny was chasing after the twins as the three of them tried to eavesdrop on Order meetings. So, in our solitude we took up snogging in Ron’s bedroom and even started exploring each other a bit - nothing below the waist at my insistence, of course. Once Harry came - and almost caught us - we had to stop. We wanted to focus on Harry anyway.

Fifth year we got lost in a world of supporting Harry. There was so much anger and confusion and fear...our only moments of reprieve were during prefect rounds. Whenever Harry had detentions we were way too worried to snog - I was at least. Ron wanted the distraction but he understood that I was too worked up.

When he gifted me the perfume for Christmas that year, I chastised him later, I’ll admit. I told him that he would give us away, and that was why I acted indifferent towards the gift. The truth was...I loved it. I told him that the homework planner wasn’t my true gift, but that I needed to give him his real gift in private. I uh...fisted him for the first time that evening and had to tell him to stop smiling so hard for several days.

He wanted to reciprocate, but I was in the middle of my monthly ‘curse’ as I sometimes call it. He didn’t get to return the favor until a couple of months later. We were in the Room of Requirement following a D.A. meeting.

We went all the way that summer at the Burrow - in his room before Harry arrived. We only had that one chance that summer, as it is quite hard to facilitate a task like that with Ron’s mum always on guard. We didn’t get to enjoy such intimacy again until after rounds at the start of term. We made use of an empty classroom a couple of times those first few weeks...until he started to pull away and act distant. He denied all of my advances and I had no idea what I’d done to deserve it.

Unfortunately, he didn’t deny the advances of my own roommate. He told me later that he knew it would hurt me as much as I had apparently hurt him - not that I knew I’d hurt him, of course. But by the time we were able to sort that out, it was months later.

Anyway, I allowed him to have his tantrum, but I did write him a letter telling him that the way I saw it, he belonged to me. And that if he so much as looked at her body, or allowed her to so much as look at him, that I would never, ever, forgive him.

Apparently, despite her best efforts, Ron had already decided that the two of them would never go past snogging.

It still hurt, he was right to assume it would, and I attempted to get him back with Cormac but that was its own near disaster. After that, I just acted like I didn’t care. I knew that if he thought I didn’t care what he did, that he would feel even worse.

Godric, we were such children.

I did care, of course, as everyone saw plainly when he was poisoned. I ran to him. When he woke up, I confessed how afraid I was as well as how much he hurt me, and he confessed to his hurt - he thought that he was my second kiss, and not my first. I straightened that out immediately and he felt quite daft. I, in turn, apologized for the birds and the other ways I hurt him.

I didn’t pressure him to break up with Lavender, but he knew what I wanted. I just figured that I would give him time - I knew it was hard for him. He started avoiding her and even promised that he wasn’t snogging her, but eventually I’d had enough and told him to break things off with her or I would.

He actually tried at one point, but she didn’t take him seriously and tried to kiss him, so he fled. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

Just when I thought I would have to do something drastic, the incident with the Invisibility Cloak happened. A week later, we reunited properly after rounds on the Astronomy Tower. Then again in a broom closet. Then once more in his dorm since we found it blessedly empty.

By the summer, after everything happened, we knew we needed to keep ‘us’ under wraps. We would begin a mission with Harry soon, and had no idea how long it would take or where it would take us, and we wanted to focus on Harry and the task at hand. We also didn’t want him to feel like a third wheel and do something thick like try to go at it alone.

We tried, but I know we slipped up a few times. I was way too outwardly worried about Ron the night we got Harry from the Dursleys, but I figured that I was worried about all of us. Ron and I danced way too much at the wedding. We even made plans to slip away but thank Merlin we never did. I still shudder when I think of what could have happened. And then we fell asleep holding hands and I really think Harry noticed.

We tried to keep our distance, but the pull to one another was too strong. We made a habit of stealing time together whenever Harry was watching the Ministry or at night when we were sure he was asleep.

Of course, that locket changed everything. It completely morphed Ron’s perception of why I was adamant we keep us a secret - he thought I was ashamed or worse: that I wanted to be with Harry instead! I mean, honestly.

In turn, the locket made me think that Ron was only using me, first for my brains, then for my body. When he left, he broke my heart for a second time, but I didn’t realize just how broken his was too...for so many reasons.

When he returned, I was torn between forgiving him and taking him into my arms, or remaining angry and letting him suffer. I chose the latter, for a bit, but forgiveness eventually won. We took things slow, and also had to be mindful of the close quarters we were sharing with Harry. We shared a few stolen kisses in the tent and the forest, but nothing else until during our stay at Shell Cottage.

We confessed everything - all of our misconceptions and miscommunications, all of our insecurities and second-guessing. And, we shared our true feelings for the first time. Ron told me he loved me on the beach near Shell Cottage, and after I said it back, we made love under the stars.

But, we still had a mission to complete, and we were so close.

‘Just a little while longer,’ he told me that night. ‘I can feel it...we’re almost there.’

‘When this is over, we’ll tell everyone,’ I told him. ‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’

It was so hard to hold it in. I wanted to tell everyone that this gorgeous, witty, loving man was all mine. Now that everything had been truly said, I couldn’t stop seeing all of the reasons that I loved him. During the battle it all added up - his brilliant ideas, his almost flawless impersonation of parseltongue, his strength, his courage, his faith in my abilities...his compassion. Suddenly, I didn’t care anymore. I needed to publicly show my love for him before it was too late - before one of us was gone.

‘Now or never.’ He had said it that day, didn’t he?

He was right. We had spent so many years hiding - not just from others, but from ourselves. We were done hiding. We were ready to live and come clean. So...that’s why we decided to tell you everything.”

Harry looked between Ron and Hermione gobsmacked, his eyes blinking rapidly. Ron was bright red, but happy that he had Hermione do all the talking. Ginny, sitting beside Harry, looked amused but not entirely surprised. Impressed, maybe?

“So,” Harry started slowly, “you’re telling me, that the kiss in the Room of Requirement during the battle, wasn’t your first kiss?”

Ron smiled shyly. “Nope. Far from it, mate.”

“All those times, all these years...Grimmauld Place, the dorms, while you were on rounds…” Harry sat back, deep in thought. “When I came into Ron’s room, just before the hunt, and Hermione you were sorting books…”

Hermione nodded. “Yup. You’d almost walked in on us.”

“That time that I swore Ron was in the loo but it turned out to be you?” He said to Hermione.

“Ron was in the loo...he had your cloak,” Hermione smirked.

“Figured it best that she be the one to leave...so she wouldn’t uh see anything.” Ron shrugged.

“Ta, good thinking mate,” Harry deadpanned. “When I thought I heard Hermione’s voice in the dorm, and Ron you said it was a dream?”

Another shrug. “Yeah, mate. Sorry. We forgot the muffliato.”

“Harry, if we went through all the times you almost walked in on us, almost caught us, we’d be here all day. And I would like to have some cake.”

Harry still sat and stared at them both in disbelief.

“Harry,” Ginny touched his arm, “are you really that surprised?”

He turned to his girlfriend. “Are you really not?”

She shrugged. “I knew they were likely shagging like rabbits.”

“No you did not!” Hermione said indignantly.

“You two were pretty obvious,” Ginny laughed. Then she glanced at Harry. “At least, to anyone who was paying attention.”

“Oi!” Harry yelled, “I pay attention! I was just...preoccupied.”

Hermione reached a hand out and placed it on Harry’s. “It’s alright, Harry, we don’t blame you for not knowing - that was our goal, wasn’t it? We just really wanted to come clean about it all.”

Harry shook his head. “And you felt that today of all days was the day to do that?”

Ron smiled. “Happy Birthday?”

After a brief silence, Harry grabbed the pillow that was resting behind him and threw it at Ron. Laughter and pillows filled the air of the Burrow’s topmost bedroom, until the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s voice could be heard calling them down for cake.

------------

What? It could have been. Do we really know that the kiss we witnessed through Harry's eyes was actually their first kiss?!?! No....no we do not. And I will stand on that hill forever. LMAO!!!

Edited to add: Dear gentle readers...when I wrote this originally, I had Hermione use an awkward term for an act that she did to Ron ...when it was brought to my attention what it would be read as, I attempted to change it, and the entire Discord server jumped me, so I left it. However, when Hermione says she uh...fisted Ron...she's referring to a hand job. I feel better now. Thanks for reading. Back to your days citizens. :D

Hello Romione lovers! 

I’ve been waiting about a month to post this fic. It was written for the 2020 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange for @gurinpotte​ ! I really enjoyed writing this Shell Cottage fic that explores where Ron and Hermione’s relationship stands. I know it’s not Christmas related, but I hope you enjoy this fic filled with nightmares, pining, angst, and fluff (with a teensy bit of some side hinny as well). I promise the title will make sense once you get to the end!

Please like and reblog/leave kudos on Ao3

Also stay tuned for my Hinny Incognito Elf fic that will be posted soon, too!

******************

Hermione assured him she was fine. That he could go take a break. Eat something, have a shower. Get some sleep of his own. Fleur had just given her a new dose of potions, and had changed her bandages, and Luna would be sleeping in the extra bed. So at her insistence, Ron gave her some space when he saw Luna come into the room to settle in for the night. 

He turned back to Hermione, who smiled and gave him a firm, “go,” and he turned to exit the room, swapping places with Luna. But Luna didn’t enter right away. Instead she shut the door and looked at him pensively. 

“You truly care for her, don’t you?” she asked.

“I- yeah,” responded Ron, a bit taken aback.

“She cares for you, too. And I don’t think she really wants you to go, but she’s worried about you just as much as you are for her.”

Ron looked at Luna in confusion. “She doesn’t need to be worried about me. I’m fine, I’m not the one who was tortured,” he said low in his voice.

“No, but you haven’t slept, you’ve barely eaten and no offense, Ron, you do have a smell to you. Hermione probably feels guilty that you’re so focused on taking care of her that you are forgetting about yourself. You will make her feel better if you take some time for you. I’ll keep an eye on her, and if she needs you, I’ll come find you,” Luna told him.

She really was brilliantly insightful, even if she came off as rather aloof much of the time. “Thank you, Luna,” Ron said sincerely. “I’ll be-”

Hello! So sorry it took me so long to answer - I hope this little bit of fluff (with a side of Hinny whaaaaaat) was worth the wait! Thanks for the ask, I had a lot of fun with this one :)

Pumpkins & Buttercups

“Okay, then we need one and a half cups of sugar stirred in with the butter.”

“You could just dip your finger in there, my sweet little sugar plum.”

“No, you’re the sweet one, my ginger-bread man.”

Ron turned and shot a lopsided grin at Harry. “She calls me that ‘cause of my hair.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Right. Got it.” Beside him at the table, Ginny snorted a laugh. “You two aren’t planning to leave me with any appetite for the cookies you’re baking, are you?”

Ron shrugged unapologetically. “More for us, then.”

Harry turned to Ginny, who was flipping through her new Charms book, and changed the subject in an effort to tune out his nauseatingly-in-love best friends. “Are you looking forward to going back?”

Ginny’s brow furrowed. It hadn’t been easy, that summer, rebuilding any semblance of a relationship after being apart for a year, and a part of Harry had considered returning to Hogwarts just to salvage the momentum they’d been slowly gaining, but Kingsley’s offer to start Auror training without the typically-requisite NEWTs was too good an offer to pass up. He knew it was, because Hermione had accepted his and Ron’s decisions not to finish school without any argument.

“It’s weird, really. If we’d had Quidditch last year, I’d probably bail out with you and Ron, but I need my seventh year to show off to the scouts.”

“And for your education, of course,” Hermione put in from the stovetop.

“Of course,” Ginny echoed, before giving Harry a conspiratorial eye roll. “Plus...I dunno. I don’t want to remember Hogwarts the way it was last year. And I don’t want my last memories to be of the Battle.” She sighed. “It’s a silly reason to go back, I suppose.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all.” Ron slid the tray of cookies into the oven and then took Hermione’s hand to lead her from the kitchen. “Where are you two going?” Harry asked.

“To snog while the cookies bake,” Ron replied matter-of-factly.

Harry groaned as they disappeared and dropped his head to his arms on the table. “It’s not just me, right?” he muttered. “They’re disgusting.”

“It’s just you,” Ginny laughed, “because they are totally taking the mickey.”

Harry raised his head to look at her. “What? You don’t think they’re really sneaking off for a snog?”

“Oh, that they definitely are. But you don’t really think they call each other those goofy pet names, do you?”

“I guess I just assumed they were making up for lost time or something.” Harry cast a longing look over at Ginny, who had gotten quickly reabsorbed in her book in a fine imitation of Hermione. “But yeah, your reason makes much more sense.”

If the proper bake time for a sugar cookie were any longer, Harry would have had serious qualms about hiking up the stairs to Ron’s room to retrieve them, but he reckoned he wasn’t likely to be interrupting anything too intimate after only eight minutes. He stopped short a few steps from the top when he realized they had left Ron’s door cracked open and fought against the instinct to shield his eyes, just in case. But they seemed to just be talking, as Hermione’s voice floated out to the landing.

“I’m just going to miss you so much,” she said softly. “Maybe I don’t need to go back.”

“I’ll miss you too, love, but of course you’re going to go back,” Ron replied. Harry hesitated; had Ron really just called Hermione love? “Besides, I’ll be at every Hogsmeade weekend. You won’t even miss me.”

“I know you will, darling, but—“ Darling?! “—I just don’t know if it’s really worth us being apart.”

Harry retreated back down a few stairs, suddenly feeling like the moment he’d accidentally overheard was much more intimate than if he’d walked in on them snogging. And apparently, Ginny was right—the silly nicknames were for him; the terms of endearment, the ones they truly meant, were just for them.

He made a point to stomp back up the last few stairs, calling as he did, “Ron! Hermione! The cookies are done!” He heard the shuffling from Ron’s room as they emerged, holding hands.

Ron gestured for Hermione to go first. “After you, buttercup.”

“Thank you, pumpkin, you’re such a gentleman.”

Someone in the HPFC discord got me thinking about Remus gardening while wearing baby Teddy and talking to him like a little adult (because he so would) and I had to write some domestic in-universe fluff. I wouldn't call this spoilers, exactly, but it's a HC I play with sometimes that has no bearing on where my plot is actually heading lol. Scene below the cut.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30585935