In the middle of the marquee, there was a square lit with bewitched candles. The sea of guests had wandered over and stood around the outside of the square. Ron took Hermione by the hand and led her towards the dance floor. As they walked, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. The newly weds reached the centre of the floor and pulled into each other: Hermione's hand on Ron's shoulder, his on her waist, and their other hands held together at shoulder height. The music began with a simple nod from Ron. He had let Hermione choose their song. It was her parents wedding song, and seeing as they weren't there, Hermione thought that it might bring them into the occasion just a little more.

The soulful voice of her dad's favourite muggle singer filled the tent. With her head in Ron's chest, they twirled around the dance floor, watched upon by all their guests. Occasionally, Hermione would lift her head, just so she could stare into Ron's eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. And he spared no attempts at looking at her in return. With every glance came a smile. Hermione adored that Ron still got flushed at being with her. It was like he still wasn't used to it.

Everytime Hermione stared up at Ron with her indulgent brown eyes, he felt himself going red. He still wasn't quite over the fact that Hermione was in love with him. Him. Simple Ron Weasley from Ottery St. Catchpole. The dirty boy with ginger hair, ragged clothes and a dysfunctional household. The funny boy with the broken wand and mouldy pet rat. She was in love with him. She. Hermione Granger. The clever girl with the curly hair and perfect robes and the seamless spells. The beautiful girl with supreme intelligence and the kindest heart. She loved him. And he loved her right back.

Ron held Hermione close to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. They were so close, that as they waltzed around, sometimes their knees would touch. That was until there was small, knee-height, red haired interference. Rose began tugging at her mummy's dress. Hermione let go of Ron's shoulders and bent down, scooping their daughter into her arms. Rose had one arm around Hermione's neck, the other was bouncing up and down, held tightly in Ron's hand. Hermione jigged her daughter around, all the while kept contact with both of them.

As the song continued, more people began to join the floor. First Mr and Mrs Weasley, then Harry and Ginny, Bill and Fleur, Neville and Luna. The small, candlelit square was not the only dancing space anymore. Couples and guests were scattered in and around the dance floor. Few people seemed know the muggle song, but appreciated it anyway. Mr Weasley, however, beamed and sang along. And then the couples began to break up and to dance with other people. Mrs Weasley politely forced herself between George and Angelina, making her son dance with her. Rose had stolen Ron, and Hermione watched in admiration as the little ginger duo danced together. Rose was stood on Ron's shoes as he strode around the floor, her face glowing with happiness. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Molly's ditched me. Care to dance?" Mr Weasley held out his hand. Hermione took it gladly and danced with her father-in-law around the floor. He spun her around, making the curls fall out of her hair. She laughed. And then stopped. Mr Weasley looked at her.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

She was. Better than alright.

"Thankyou," she said, her eyes glistening with tears. "for being there. When my dad couldn't be." She smiled. Mr Weasley let go of Hermione's hand and proceeded to link arms with her. He walked away from the dance floor.

"He'd be very proud of you, you know. Your dad and your mum would." Hermione nodded.

"You miss them don't you?" Hermione nodded again.

"They're here. If you really want them to be," Mr Weasley continued. "They're here". He was pointed to his own heart. And with that he patted her hand, before he was whisked away by Ginny, who had clearly had too much firewhisky and some alone time with a certain scar-headed boy.
Her hair, which previously had been perfectly curled and pinned, was tousled, like she'd been caught in the wind. And there were traces of her lipstick smudged slightly around her lips. Hermione also noticed that her dress wasn't zipped up properly. As Mr Weasley and Ginny turned away from Hermione, she sleekly pulled the zip to the top. Ginny turned round and winked, before rushing her father to the dancefloor.

Hermione wandered around the marquee, stopping for chats with the guests. She was looking for Ron. But he was exactly where she'd suspected: still in admists with the guests. He was dragging a slightly reluctant Professor McGonagall around the dance floor. She chuckled and hurried over. The professor was smiling when Hermione approached.

"Oh Miss Gra-Mrs Granger-Weasley. My congratulations. You can have him back now if you like." The professor had, like Ginny, definitely had something to drink.

"It's okay-" Hermione chuckled.

"No no no, he's all you yours!" insisted McGonagall as she dismissed herself to a new dance partner.

"For old times sake huh?" Hermione smirked.

"What?" Ron questioned.

"Fourth year. Yule Ball preparations." Hermione laughed as the memory came back to Ron. His face said it all.

"Oh shut it you" he retorted. Hermione laughed. Then she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the jaw.

"Hermione - not with other people around" Ron said, drawing her head away from his. "We've got all of later for that" he whispered in her ear. Hermione smiled as shiver went down her spine. But she sighed.

"We can't really though. Not with Rosie in the house." but Ron pushed a finger to her lips before she could say anything more.

"Mums having her." He said. "Like I said. All night." Then he winked and kissed her lips again.