.
“I take it this was Hermione’s idea,” Harry said.
“Yeah. Her parents make resolutions every year, and she’s done it before as well. It’s supposed to be something for us to do together,” Ron said, glancing at Harry over a large pile of documents.
“Huh,” said Harry.
“So. I’ve decided to go with birthdays.”
“Birthdays?” They were sitting on opposite sides of Harry’s desk in the Auror department, sifting through reams of paperwork as they reorganized some old case files.
“You know I’m bloody useless when it comes to remembering dates.” He handed a couple of papers to Harry. “Though, for some reason, I never seem to forget yours.”
“Yeah, right. Well, that’s probably because Doomsday Prophecies make birthdays more memorable.”
Ron half-smiled, hoping Harry had meant to be funny. “So my resolution is that I’m going to remember everyone’s birthday this year.”
“Everyone?”
“Yeah, you know… immediate family, and Hermione’s family, of course.”
Harry looked skeptical.
“I can do it,” Ron said, insulted.
Harry stifled an unbelieving grin, keeping his head buried in the paperwork. “Whatever you say, mate.”
____
Hermione brought another spoonful of soup to her lips, letting the hot liquid warm her from the inside out. “It’s completely delicious,” she told her friend.
Hannah leaned on the bar and beamed. “It’s my own recipe.” She served a drink to a wizard a few seats down and returned with wide eyes. “I’ve got it! You should learn to cook for your resolution!”
Hermione scrunched up her face. “Are you mad? That’s much too difficult. Besides, I’ve already decided on something.” She sat up straighter for the announcement. “I’m going to stop nagging Ron.”
Hannah laughed heartily at this news. “I thought you wanted something less challenging.”
“Please. I’m not that bad,” Hermione insisted.
Hannah gave her a knowing look.
“All right, then, but that’s why I’m doing it.”
“Well, great!” Hannah smiled brightly as she took payment from an older witch and pocketed the tip. “At the very least, it will be a good learning experience.”
“Learning experience?” Hermione rolled her eyes, seeing right through Hannah’s false optimism. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
“I didn’t say that, did I?” she answered, unable to resist a small grin. “But if it doesn’t work out, and you decide to go with cooking instead… you’ll know where to find me.”
_____
A month later
Hermione entered the living room, saw her husband’s state, and placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you ready to go?”
“Go?” Ron pushed himself up from the sofa and eyed his wife, who was obviously dressed for an outing. “Go where?”
“Oh, honestly! Have you broken your resolution already? It’s only February.”
Ron appeared briefly confused, then rose with an easy grin. “’Course not. It’s Dad’s birthday party.” He brushed past her, tidying himself magically as he walked into the kitchen.
“You forgot!” she scolded, following on his heels. “You broke your resolution!”
Ron saw reproach and amusement on her face. “Fine then, but I’m not the only one, am I?”
For a fraction of a second, her expression read: caught. But she recovered immediately and stood as tall as Hermionally possible. “I’m managing brilliantly,” she insisted. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to look him in the eye, which caused him to laugh loudly in triumph.
“You think I don’t hear you grumbling all the time?” He took on both her posture and her voice. “Socks on the floor, the bathroom sink…” He dropped the act and gave her a pointed look. “You stare holes into my head half the day! That’s still nagging.”
She couldn’t deny it: only last night, she’d lain awake thinking of throttling him over the muddy prints he’d tracked through the kitchen after playing Quidditch. “Well, can you blame me? Your clothes are everywhere! And if I step on that wet bathroom floor in my socked feet one more time, I swear I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” he asked, stepping closer to her.
She pursed her lips, thinking hard and then giving up in frustration. “I don’t know!”
There was a moment of tense silence before a grin broke out on Ron's face and he began to chuckle. “We never had a chance, did we?”
She sighed in defeat. “We could start over,” she offered feebly.
But Ron didn’t seem to mind their combined failure in the slightest. “What’s wrong with how we are?” he wanted to know. “What’s the point of having a brilliant wife if she isn’t in charge of remembering birthdays?” He rested his arms on her shoulders. “And how will I ever become a better husband if you don’t nag me?”
She fingered his jumper. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m sorry?” he said, turning his ear toward her and giving her a look of mock-alarm. “What did you just say?”
She rolled her eyes, failing in her attempt to keep from grinning. “I said, you’re right. And you might as well enjoy it”it doesn’t happen very often, you know,” she teased.
He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “We’re late,” he whispered, though he seemed in no hurry now. When he pulled back, she rose up on her toes for more before they reluctantly parted”Ron to finish getting ready and Hermione to Accio the gift.
When they met in the yard five minutes later, Hermione couldn’t help noticing that her husband looked positively giddy. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.
“You realize what this means for later, don’t you?” he asked suggestively.
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” she said in a playful tone. “That’s a bit of a stretch… it really wasn’t much of a fight.”
“Even so,” he announced happily. Then he took her hand and turned on the spot.
.
Rotten Resolutions by WeasleyMom
Chapter Notes: This was originally written for a drabble challenge of the same name, where resolutions must be made and... well, I'll let you see for yourself. A fluffy little one-shot. Thanks to Natalie for her mad, QSQ-winning beta skills.
Chapter Endnotes: Well, don't just sit there. What do you think? :)