Romione❤️ one-shots

The only time I ever stopped loving you

I'm on spring break!! That's why I have time, I'm so sorryyy

"Ron!" Hermione protested, trying desperately not to laugh, "I need to focus!"

"You already left work for the week, love," Ron said, smiling as he leaned in so that his lips were almost touching her ear, "That means you're mine for two days."

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing, "Yes," she allowed, "However those two days don't start until midnight, which means that I have five hours to finish this paperwork."

Ron pulled back reluctantly. "Why do I put up with this?" He asked, intentionally attempting to get under Hermione's skin. He ran a hand through his red hair as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the dining room table in their flat. "You know, there are other girls who would love to have someone who wants to give them as much attention as I'm trying to give you."

Hermione brushed off his comment, continuing to fill out her forms with her neat and precise script, responding without taking her eyes off the papers. "Well, I suppose you put up with it because you've been in love with me since before you even understood what love was."

"Actually, there was some time where I didn't love you at all."

That was enough to catch her attention. Hermione narrowed her eyes down at the paper, unsure of how to respond. Was he kidding? Of course she wasn't vain enough to believe that his entire life had centered on his love for her, but what was he saying, that he hadn't loved her at some point? After a moment, though, she decided to play along with whatever he was plotting.

"And when would that have been?" She asked calmly, her voice sounding cool and unconcerned, contrary to her inner state of panic, a state which she was not about to confess to.

"Guess." Ron said.

Hermione finally looked at him. Sitting there, leaning back while the chair balanced precariously on only two legs, his hands behind his head and an easy smile on his face, he looked as if they were having any other conversation, if anything a particularly enjoyable one. She just glared at him, her expression betraying her desire to appear unbothered.

"Come on, Hermione, you of all people are bright enough to figure this out." Ron told her, his smile growing.

Hermione merely narrowed her eyes at him.

Ron sighed, taking his feet down and allowing the chair to stand on all four legs properly again. He looked at Hermione gently and told her, "The only time I ever stopped loving you was when I wasn't in my right mind."

A breath that Hermione hadn't meant to hold in escaped her lips as everything clicked inside of her head. "When you ate the spiked Chocolate Cauldrons," she said breathlessly. "Of course."

Ron took Hermione's hands as she looked over at him, embarrassment clear in her face as her lips were quirked up at the sides in a shy smile and her cheeks were ever so slightly tinged pink.

Hermione shook her head, "That inane Amortentia."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Ron said, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "If I never took that potion I never would have been accidentally poisoned, and if that never happened, who knows, maybe Lavender and I—"

"I understand your point, Ronald." Hermione cut him off.

They just stared at each other for a moment before simultaneously breaking out in bashful smiles, mutually agreeing that no matter how many times they insisted that they were alright with each other's past indiscretions, it was still best not to refer to them.

"Sorry if I scared you, love." Ron told her.

Hermione nodded, sliding her chair so that she was side by side with him, "As you should be."

Ron's only response was a kiss.

Minutes later, after both had lost their breath and had to part for a moment to reclaim it, Hermione admitted, "If I hadn't already been sure that I loved you, the day that Slughorn had that cauldron of Amortentia in the classroom was sufficient assurance for me."

Ron's eyebrows knitted together, "How so?"

"It smelled a lot like you." She said, a smile working its way onto her face. "For me, it smelled like parchment, which is understandable given my tastes, but it also smelled like grass and your hair and...it was a smell that reminded me of summer, the afternoons we'd spend in your room at the Burrow."

"It smelled like you for me," Ron confessed, "Old books, vanilla, just so much warmth and—"

The rest of what he had planned to say was cut off by Hermione's lips crashing onto his own.

"Hermione?" He tried to ask as they continued to kiss, "What—what's—th-this—for?"

She pulled back, a sheepish look on her face. "It's just nice to have another indicator, another confirmation, that we are definitely meant to be together. Maybe that potion is good for something after all."

"Maybe." Ron agreed.