It's been a pleasure and a privilege to share this story this week. I'm so glad that other SS/HG shippers want a happy ending, (and middle and beginning – Fluff FTW) for our OTP.
I can't promise to devote a week to fanfic again. (I think I needed it though, obviously…) But I hope to get back to Entangled soon, as that's the closest to being finished. Though this is me. Probably another Severus bunny will strike…
Anyway... onto this little Ron-focused epilogue. Enjoy :)
"Mione, you have to see this!" Ron burst into the sitting room, waving a copy of that night's paper. "Gilly gave me the Evening Prophet. She near cracked a rib laughing so hard. You have to see. The beetle has completely lost it!"
He lurched to a stop, rocking back on his heels. "What…?"
Snape had his hand on his girlfriend's…ex-girlfriend's hip. And seemed to be stroking her with long spidery fingers. Ron shuddered. Wait, why was her skirt all creased?
"Ron have you heard of knocking?" Mione's face was bright pink, her throat and lower —not that he was looking, he had a fiancée now— was just as flushed. She frowned at him. "What do you want?"
"Only you are ever in here. Why should I knock?" Ron frowned. He waved the paper again. "It says you're married to him." He jerked his chin to Snape. "That's wrong, isn't, Mione? I mean…"
She took Snape's corpse white hand in hers and something flared between them. For a second, they bloody glowed. Ron blinked his mouth falling open. What…?
Snape sneered at him. Foul bat. "Please close you mouth, Mr Weasley. I can see the remains of your supper."
Ron's teeth snapped together. He stared. No. It wasn't Rita Skeeter having a breakdown? "It's true?"
His ex-girlfriend smirked at him and pulled her greasy husband –husband!— towards the door. "You know, Ron, you were completely wrong about me. I do very much like that sort of thing."
And Snape's eyes were fucking smug…
The door clicked behind him and alone in the sitting room, Ron caught his hand in his hair. What in Merlin's name had just happened? His nose twitched. What was that smell? It was familiar…
No. No. Absolutely no. They hadn't been— Hermione wouldn't. She didn't do that sort of thing. She was just having a laugh. He'd know if she did like it. She would've let him… And she certainly wouldn't let the Great Greasy Git get his…his, his anywhere near her. No. It was a marriage of convenience. Nothing else. Nothing.
Ah shit. He wiped his fingers across his eyes.
Severus Snape had fucked Hermione Granger in the sitting room. And she'd bloody loved it.
Ron fell into the nearest chair. The paper fluttered to the floor and he dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. Hard. Trying to unthink everything.
He wondered how good his new fiancée was with memory charms…
Let me know what you think! :)