Whoever thought that Ron and Hermione's relationship after the Deathly Hallows was a smooth ride evidently thought wrong! Though they are slightly older now, they still bicker as they used to...and it's no less amusing!
Category: Romance 
“You and Ron had
another row?” Harry asked Hermione in disbelief as they headed across the Ministry atrium. He’d thought that they had gotten over that phase of life. “What about?”
Hermione sighed, not meeting his eyes. She hesitated, but confessed, “He wanted me to stop spending so much time working on the promotion of better conditions for house elves, and spend more time with him.” She let out a frustrated noise between a huff and a growl. “Did he think after my official SPEW campaign I’d stop there? Honestly, one would have thought he’d pick up on
some things after we’d gone out for two years and…“ she calculated it in her head.
“Three months,” Harry said automatically with a hint of boredom in his voice.
“Two years and three months so far,” Hermione continued, then eyed him suspiciously. “You haven’t been keeping track, have you?”
Harry looked bemused. “Of course not. Ron just mentions it about twice a day.”
“Oh.” Hermione rolled her eyes skyward. “Anyways, after all that time, hasn’t he gotten that he should not even think of condescending my attitude towards house elves? I’m the one working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, after all.”
Shaking his head with a slight smile on his face, Harry commented, “You two should just stop bickering for a change.”
He hasn’t even said ‘I love you’, Hermione mused to herself, punching the little button for the lift.
The golden lift clanked into view not long after. The doors opened and they stepped in without another word. To Hermione’s dismay, the tall figure of Ronald Weasley stood in one corner of the lift.
“Hey Harry!” Ron greeted jovially, and then saw Hermione. “Hi, Hermione,” he added in a hesitant voice, cheeks aflame.
Pursing her lips tightly, Hermione ignored his greeting and stood on the other side of Harry, who groaned inwardly. It was just like being back at Hogwarts. “Nice weather today,” he commented awkwardly.
Hermione and Ron grunted simultaneously in the same tone. Harry had to keep from laughing and instead broke into a coughing fit to hide his amusement.
Level four of the Ministry rose in front of them. The doors slide aside and Hermione walked out coldly.
“Hey, Hermione, see you at lunchtime?” Ron asked hopefully, but she had already turned a corner to her office. He swore under his breath as the lift jangled upward. “Merlin’s beard, why does she have to be that way?” he asked Harry woefully.
Shrugging, Harry said, “Just don’t mention house elves and you’ll be fine.”
Hermione steamed the whole way to her office. When she reached the isolation she desired, she snapped the door shut and relished the silence. A part of her felt horrible for being such a git to Ron, but she told herself that he deserved it.
The morning seemed to crawl by. Her eyes were hurting from reading forms and re-writing letters. The knock on the door was a welcome break. “Come in,” she said impassively.
Marietta Edgecombe, dressed in neat Ministry robes, peeped her curly head in. “Hermione, there’s someone here to see you regarding Crumple Horned Snorkaks.”
Luna. That was the first thought that popped into her head. “Send them in, then,” Hermione answered instantly. She hadn’t seen Luna in a while, and she had to admit that she missed the wispy-haired girl substantially.
But the person who came in didn’t have wispy, blonde hair. Instead, flaming red hair appeared and before Hermione could say,
“Ron!”, he had already shut the door.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, eyebrows contracting over her freckled face. “Since when did you have an interest for Crumple Horned Snorkaks?”
Ron sat down across from her. “It was the only way I could get into your office without you having a fit about it.”
“Who says I’m not going to have a fit right now?” Hermione asked, rising from her chair. Her mass of hair seemed frightening now as she towered over him. “I—I don’t have time for this.”
“Hermione, don’t be like that,” Ron pleaded, standing up so now he was towering over her. “I didn’t mean what I said about house elves.”
Brushing past him to the door, Hermione replied, “Sure, Ronald.” Sarcasm dripped from every word she pronounced. She turned the doorknob and motioned for him to leave.
He stepped towards her, placing his hand over hers on the door handle. “I’m sorry, all right? Honest.” The softness of his voice calmed her slightly, but she stood by her word and jabbed her finger into the hallway. He scowled. “I’ll be back later,” he said tonelessly and shuffled out.
Slamming the door after him, Hermione moaned and rubbed her eyes before sitting down at her desk once more. What a waste of her time. A few angry tears slid down her face and she brushed them hurriedly aside.
Naught but five minutes later, Marietta appeared once more. “Hermione, there’s someone here to see you regarding Crumple Horned Snorkaks.”
I cannot believe this. Hermione growled, “Tell him that if he so much as steps into this office I will curse him till his hair turns purple.”
“Excuse me, but it’s not a him,” Marietta replied, seeming taken aback by Hermione’s fierce manner.
“It’s…not him?” Hermione asked, and Marietta shook her head. “Fine, then. Bring her in.”
The thin form of Luna Lovegood appeared in the opening of the doorframe. Her orb-like eyes roved Hermione’s office and she smiled when she caught sight of the wild-haired girl sitting in the desk across from her.
“Luna!” Hermione exclaimed, a smile leaping to her face. “Take a seat. I haven’t seen you since the battle.” When Luna had sat down after inspecting the bottom of the chair, Hermione continued, “How have you been?”
“Oh, splendid,” Luna replied happily. “I’ve been traveling all around Europe to find all sorts of creatures. I have pictures and reports on each one; perhaps you can validate them for me.”
Dread spilled over Hermione, but she forced herself to cooperate. “All right, let’s take a look at them.”
Luna slid the hefty package onto the shiny tabletop. Uncurling her fingers, Hermione opened the envelope and drew out the first paper.
*
“It was utter rubbish,” Hermione vented to Harry on the level two corridor. “You know how Luna is; she’s lovely, but she doesn’t know what’s sensible half the time.”
Harry stood, silent, knowing not to intervene on one of Hermione’s rants. When she finally ran out of things to say, he gently chided, “Well, it’s over now, isn’t it?”
Nodding wearily, Hermione sighed and tapped her wand. Her eyes glanced around. “Where’s Ron?” she asked nonchalantly, flicking a stray tendril from her eyes.
“He was here just a minute ago,” Harry answered, furrowing his eyebrows. “Where’s he go off to?”
Then they heard Ron’s voice from around the corner: “You use that word one more time and I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what, Weasel? Tell me to eat slugs?” a drawling voice sneered, evidently unperturbed. “If you remember, last time it didn’t work so well.”
“Malfoy,” Harry growled under his breath, and his hand reached for his wand as he turned around the corner.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Hermione hissed as they almost walked into Ron’s back. His wand was drawn and so was Malfoy’s.
The blonde’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, so I see you called your gang to back you up.” He smirked at the other two. His hair was still as platinum blonde as ever, his eyes as ice cold, and his chin as pointed.
“Ron!” Hermione tugged on his arm insistently. She commanded both of them, “Drop your wands at once. There’s no reason to duel, especially in the Ministry.”
Ron reluctantly dropped his wand to his side; he would have kept his wand aloft if Hermione hadn’t been mad with him previously. With a curl of his pale lip, Draco stowed his wand into his pocket. “I’m not looking for fights, Weasley. They’re a bit childish at this point. If you hadn’t drawn your wand I wouldn’t have drawn mine.”
“What brings you here, Malfoy?” Harry interrogated, voice cold.
“Job interview for the janitor position?” Ron put in, raising his eyebrows.
The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched unpleasantly. “The Malfoy family is rich enough without having to work,” he said curtly. When they all gave him quizzical looks, knowing that he had avoided the question, he added, “I’m collecting my father’s will, as he just died. What idiot came up with the Decree of Justifiable Confiscation, anyways?” Shaking his head irritably, he excused himself. “I must be going now.” With a swish of his black cloak, he disappeared down a corridor, reminding the trio very much of his father.
“What were you two brawling about, anyways?” Hermione asked gruffly once Draco was out of earshot, shooting a glare at Ron.
He held his hands up. “Don’t blame me; he used the M word, and it got me fired up, is all.”
“Oh.” Hermione didn’t know what to say. She could not retort, and she felt rather pleased that Ron had defended her; it was perhaps the first meritorious act he had committed in a month. A rush of gratitude flooded her, but she tried to stem it. “I…”
Harry eyed her. “Hermione is trying to say that she’s grateful you stood up for her,” he offered in explanation.
Ron’s gaze swiveled to meet hers, his eyes brimming with compunction. She muttered, “Thank you.”
“Am I in your good graces again, then?” Ron asked expectantly.
She couldn’t keep him at bay for long. “I guess so,” she sighed, not attempting to stop the infinitesimal smile that crept to her face. “But don’t mention house elves again,” she stipulated.
“Of course not,” Ron concurred, looking immensely relieved. He drew an arm around her shoulders and gave her a side hug. “I’m glad we’re on speaking terms.” He stopped walking and tilted her face to look at him. She was a bit reluctant at first, but relaxed. Smiling, he bent low and his lips met hers in the kiss they had both been craving. Harry shook his head, looking away pointedly from his friends’ actions. He wished at that moment he had Ginny beside him.
“You know what?” Ron said spontaneously as they resumed walking. “I think I love you.”
Hermione lifted her head, tickling Ron’s chin with her hair as she did so. “Really, Ronald?” she asked, caught off guard.
Ron rolled his eyes in Harry’s direction. “As I say, always the…”
“…tone of surprise,” Harry finished, grinning.
*
The chatter within the cottage emanated into the street; the clanking of dishes washing themselves could be heard just above the din of children playing with their Christmas gifts in the sitting room.
“Hugo, be careful,” Hermione warned her three-year-old son, watching him gallivant around with his brand-new broomstick (a present from the Potters).
Ron wrapped an arm around his wife. “Don’t worry about it,” he said easily, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Be thankful that Rose isn’t the same way.” They both looked over to where their eldest sat, already reading through
The Tales of Beetle the Bard with Hagrid, who sat beside her.
Laughing, Hermione swatted Ron playfully and moved towards the squashy couch where Harry and Ginny were sitting. “Nothing like Christmas, is there?” she remarked as she sat beside her redheaded friend, Ron sidling next to her.
Swiftly smiling, Ginny nodded in agreement. “They really do love their presents, don’t they?” Her eyes observed her sons zooming about.
The doorbell chimed, and Harry rushed to see who it was. A smile instantly graced his face and he swung the door open, letting a cold blast of winter air in. “Neville and Susan! I’m glad you could make it.”
Neville Longbottom, his round face pink with the cold, and his pregnant wife entered the sitting room, beaming.
“Neville! I haven’t seen you in a while!” Hermione exclaimed as she stood to embrace him and Susan (formerly Susan Bones).
“There are some nice seats right here,” Ginny said, positioning a couch for the couple. “We’re so happy that you came!”
Guiding his wife gently to the sofa, Neville sat down and waved at Hagrid. “It’s great to be here; thanks for inviting us, Harry!” he exclaimed. With a flourish of her wand, Ginny brought over a flask of hot chocolate and cups.
Meanwhile, Hagrid had closed the book for Rose, as they were finished. “Want Hagrid ter tell yeh a story, Rosie?” he asked, patting his lap invitingly. Rose agreed, her eyes shining with excitement as she clambered upon her Godfather’s lap. Beside her, Lily clapped her hands enthusiastically and settled on Hagrid’s other knee.
“Oi! Anyone else want ter hear a story?” Hagrid called hopefully to the boys on the brooms. Albus had already slid off his broomstick and sat himself comfortably at Hagrids’s feet.
Six-year-old James paused, hovering in mid-air. “What’s it about?” The curiosity in his voice had already begun to show.
Hagrid smiled mischievously and chuckled. “Listen an’ yeh’ll find out.”
Suspiciously, James dismounted, which led Hugo to join the listener’s circle as well. Ginny leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder, a cup of steaming hot cocoa in hand. Neville and Susan sipped their hot drinks. Resting her head in the crook of Ron’s neck, Hermione listened intently.
Pleased with this audience, Hagrid started in a mystical voice (as mystical as his rough voice would allow, that is), “Once upon a time there lived a boy with a lightnin’ bolt scar on his forehead—“ at this point, all little heads turned to Harry on the couch. Grinning, Hagrid continued, “As a matter o’ fact, this wasn’t jus’ any old scar…”
Always the Tone of Surprise – Sa13+ 
. i think JKR should use this as her entry for the R/Hr section of her encyclopedia. 
