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Title: To Be Expected
Author: me
Pairing: H/D (with some Hr/R)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry's nearest and dearest discuss the situation.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. But the situation does because I don't think JKR will ever do this...
Marriage Arc parts One Two Three Four Five Six
Part 7:
To Be Expected
Ronald was ranting. And there were a lot of swear words. Hermione was glad it was still April, and not some other month. Say, January. If he were still at it in January, she would have to put her foot down.
“Ron, calm down,” she said pleasantly. “It’s just an invitation, isn’t it? Just a piece of paper.”
“Bloody hell, Hermione, it’s not just a piece of paper! It’s evil! It’s a sodding piece of demonic whatdoyoucallit, pappyroos or paparus — fucking hell, it’s a bloody trap!”
“Trap, Ron?” Now really, she’d gone and thrown a stitch. “Ooh— Blast.”
“Damn straight it’s a trap. And Harry’s falling right into it, isn’t he? Sodding idiot, can’t he see what he’s gotten himself into? They’re already— I mean, they’re…” Ron’s eyes suddenly lit up and he grinned triumphantly, pointing at Hermione. “Living together out of wedlock, for Merlin’s sake!”
Hermione uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, trying to sink back into the fluffy couch cushions. At least she still had the ability to get out of them. “Oh, honestly, Ron. We’ve been living together for nearly four years, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but… but… Oh, bollocks, Hermione, it’s different! We had five years of school with crushes on each other, and then five after the war for dating. They might as well have just bloody met!”
She shook her head, tugging at the green thread with her teeth. Sod these socks, they were much too small. “That’s hardly realistic, Ron.”
"Well, we are planning to get married, at least!” His smile had turned smug.
Hermione put down her sewing, picked up the invitation, and glared at him. “I should think this shows their similar intention quite well. And besides, I don’t remember anything so final as a proposal from a certain someone, Ronald, thank you very much.”
“Oh, Hermione, you know I’m going to. I don’t have the money for a proper ring yet. Hmph, bet that git cursed Harry’s ring to give him nightly warts starting the day after their honeymoon.”
Hermione wanted ginger tea. Yes, ginger would be lovely. Too bad she was so cozy under the living room throw. “Ron,” –she pointed her wand through the kitchen doorway and set the teapot bubbling— “don’t be ridiculous, he hasn’t done that in ages.”
“They’re so bloody incompatible! End up killing each other before their first anniversary, they will. Well. I don’t intend to be around to see it. If Harry wants to go marry that prick, I will not help him do it.”
“Oh, yes you will. You’re to be best man.”
“Beside the point, Hermione. I’ll bet Harry doesn’t even know about it. I’ll bet it’s the ferret’s attempt to get me in some floofy set of dress robes again. Small mercy you haven’t been forced to be bridesmaid or something equally horrendous.”
“As a matter of fact, I am going to be a bridesmaid,” she said, summoning teacup and saucer from the kitchen. She tapped the steaming cup thoughtfully. “Or… groomsmaid, I should think.”
“This is absolutely mental, this is! Last I heard, they were having problems, and now suddenly they’re getting married in March of next year?”
“April, Ron.”
“Bloody— April, March, what’s the difference? He sprung it on me, that’s what he did! Some best friend, off shagging and then marrying his oldest friend’s mortal enemy without even a by your leave, and while pretending to be having relationship troubles! I tell you, Hermione, the next time anyone springs something like that on me, I am going to give him what for!”
Hermione leaned back, settling the socks on her stomach and peering down at them quizzically as she sipped her tea. Oh, she was feeling better already. Ginger did wonders. “I didn’t know you had such trouble with surprises.”
“This one is an absolute outrage! I ought to Floo Mum and just see if she doesn’t stomp over to Harry’s house and set him straight. I ought to go myself!”
“For goodness sakes, Ronald Bilius Weasley, leave your poor mother alone, she’s worked herself hard enough raising the seven of you.”
“I can’t believe him. I just can’t bloody believe him! Hermione, he’s actually going to marry the ferret! It’s not right. I coughed up slugs! From my own wand! And he didn’t even have to touch it to make it turn on me. Now if that’s not an example of the git’s penchant for absolute evil, I don’t know what is!”
“So I’ll just owl him tomorrow and say yes for you, shall I?”
“The nerve! The absolute nerve! I’ve never felt so betrayed!”
“Mmmm,” Hermione said, hemming the ends of the socks once more. It was only to be expected, after telling Ron of Harry’s wedding in the middle of the day. Ron was still barging about, waving his hands and exercising his tongue. Well. She’d have to wait on the news about the baby until he’d had his slice of cherry pie after supper.
...
Part 8: Overly Dramatic
...
*grin*
Author: me
Pairing: H/D (with some Hr/R)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry's nearest and dearest discuss the situation.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. But the situation does because I don't think JKR will ever do this...
Marriage Arc parts One Two Three Four Five Six
Part 7:
To Be Expected
Ronald was ranting. And there were a lot of swear words. Hermione was glad it was still April, and not some other month. Say, January. If he were still at it in January, she would have to put her foot down.
“Ron, calm down,” she said pleasantly. “It’s just an invitation, isn’t it? Just a piece of paper.”
“Bloody hell, Hermione, it’s not just a piece of paper! It’s evil! It’s a sodding piece of demonic whatdoyoucallit, pappyroos or paparus — fucking hell, it’s a bloody trap!”
“Trap, Ron?” Now really, she’d gone and thrown a stitch. “Ooh— Blast.”
“Damn straight it’s a trap. And Harry’s falling right into it, isn’t he? Sodding idiot, can’t he see what he’s gotten himself into? They’re already— I mean, they’re…” Ron’s eyes suddenly lit up and he grinned triumphantly, pointing at Hermione. “Living together out of wedlock, for Merlin’s sake!”
Hermione uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, trying to sink back into the fluffy couch cushions. At least she still had the ability to get out of them. “Oh, honestly, Ron. We’ve been living together for nearly four years, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but… but… Oh, bollocks, Hermione, it’s different! We had five years of school with crushes on each other, and then five after the war for dating. They might as well have just bloody met!”
She shook her head, tugging at the green thread with her teeth. Sod these socks, they were much too small. “That’s hardly realistic, Ron.”
"Well, we are planning to get married, at least!” His smile had turned smug.
Hermione put down her sewing, picked up the invitation, and glared at him. “I should think this shows their similar intention quite well. And besides, I don’t remember anything so final as a proposal from a certain someone, Ronald, thank you very much.”
“Oh, Hermione, you know I’m going to. I don’t have the money for a proper ring yet. Hmph, bet that git cursed Harry’s ring to give him nightly warts starting the day after their honeymoon.”
Hermione wanted ginger tea. Yes, ginger would be lovely. Too bad she was so cozy under the living room throw. “Ron,” –she pointed her wand through the kitchen doorway and set the teapot bubbling— “don’t be ridiculous, he hasn’t done that in ages.”
“They’re so bloody incompatible! End up killing each other before their first anniversary, they will. Well. I don’t intend to be around to see it. If Harry wants to go marry that prick, I will not help him do it.”
“Oh, yes you will. You’re to be best man.”
“Beside the point, Hermione. I’ll bet Harry doesn’t even know about it. I’ll bet it’s the ferret’s attempt to get me in some floofy set of dress robes again. Small mercy you haven’t been forced to be bridesmaid or something equally horrendous.”
“As a matter of fact, I am going to be a bridesmaid,” she said, summoning teacup and saucer from the kitchen. She tapped the steaming cup thoughtfully. “Or… groomsmaid, I should think.”
“This is absolutely mental, this is! Last I heard, they were having problems, and now suddenly they’re getting married in March of next year?”
“April, Ron.”
“Bloody— April, March, what’s the difference? He sprung it on me, that’s what he did! Some best friend, off shagging and then marrying his oldest friend’s mortal enemy without even a by your leave, and while pretending to be having relationship troubles! I tell you, Hermione, the next time anyone springs something like that on me, I am going to give him what for!”
Hermione leaned back, settling the socks on her stomach and peering down at them quizzically as she sipped her tea. Oh, she was feeling better already. Ginger did wonders. “I didn’t know you had such trouble with surprises.”
“This one is an absolute outrage! I ought to Floo Mum and just see if she doesn’t stomp over to Harry’s house and set him straight. I ought to go myself!”
“For goodness sakes, Ronald Bilius Weasley, leave your poor mother alone, she’s worked herself hard enough raising the seven of you.”
“I can’t believe him. I just can’t bloody believe him! Hermione, he’s actually going to marry the ferret! It’s not right. I coughed up slugs! From my own wand! And he didn’t even have to touch it to make it turn on me. Now if that’s not an example of the git’s penchant for absolute evil, I don’t know what is!”
“So I’ll just owl him tomorrow and say yes for you, shall I?”
“The nerve! The absolute nerve! I’ve never felt so betrayed!”
“Mmmm,” Hermione said, hemming the ends of the socks once more. It was only to be expected, after telling Ron of Harry’s wedding in the middle of the day. Ron was still barging about, waving his hands and exercising his tongue. Well. She’d have to wait on the news about the baby until he’d had his slice of cherry pie after supper.
...
Part 8: Overly Dramatic
...
*grin*
