you jealous hermione

anonymous asked:

“Who were you with?” + romione please ! thank you !

He’s talking to another Auror. A girl one.

Normally, Hermione would not think twice of it. But she’d just gone off to get drinks for the two of them to help them get through this stifling Ministry function, and as soon as she’d left him this woman had her hands on his arms like she were an octopus.

And the brightness of his eyes as he laughs with her hurts a little, because he doesn’t seem to be doing anything to stop her touch, and the woman is awfully pretty and fit.

Hermione presses her lips together tightly, feeling as though she might look like she’s eating a lemon, and she marches over, drinks in hand.

“Here,” she says primly, interrupting them mid-laugh and offering him a glass.

“Cheers, love,” he says, taking it from her and giving her a kiss on the cheek in gratitude. This mollifies her slightly, but she can’t help but give a glance over at the woman, silently surveying her. The woman notices her discomfort and glances over at Ron.

“I’ll see you around then, Ron,” she smiles, and walks off to chat with someone else.

Hermione looks up at Ron as soon as she’s out of earshot.

“Who were you with?”

“Just now?” Ron asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s Jenny, she’s part of the team.”

“Your team?”

“Yeah, why?”

“And what was so funny?”

“Hm? Oh, just having a laugh at the new captain’s fitness camp. It’s bloody brutal.”

“Then why did she need to wrap herself around you like the Giant Squid?”

“Giant Squid? What are you– oh,” Ron’s eyes widen in realisation and he grins down at her. “Are you jealous?”

Hermione scoffs. “No,” she insists. “I’m just curious as to why she thinks she needs to touch your arms.”

“When only you can.”

“Exactly,” Hermione says without thinking and blushes bright red. “Oh, bollocks.”

And then Ron laughs loudly, tilting his head back in joy. She ignores her embarrassment for a brief second, allowing herself to enjoy the sight of Ron so relaxed and happy. 

He looks happier than he was with Jenny, that’s for sure. And that’s saying something.

She relaxes a little.

Ron smiles down at her, placing a hand around her waist and pulling her in closer towards him. He tilts his forehead, letting it rest against hers. “You’re right,” he murmurs, “only you can.” He kisses her forehead gently, and returns back to their position, this time a bit more serious. “Don’t need to worry, love. She didn’t mean anything, and even if she or anyone did, everyone knows I’m yours.”

Hermione grins up at him. “Alright,” she says, leaning up to kiss him on the lips, claiming him as hers for everyone to see. 

just-things-i-like-mostly  asked:

36. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Harry x Hermione... please... and thank you :)

drabble prompt list


White linen greedily absorbed spilled red wine faster than the server could siphon it away with his wand. Broken crystal scattered between the serving plates dressed with artfully plated roots, greens, and cheese, fallen soldiers waiting for the inevitable. The wine was their blood and the linen would be their grave.

Apologizing profusely, the server cleared what they could of the destruction left after an elbow was where it shouldn’t and an entire tray of water glasses fell over the patron’s table, destroying everything laid in preparation. Draco stared at the wreckage in disbelief, too stunned to be angry. Yet. With a wordless and wandless accio, he summoned the piece of jewelry previously hidden by a spell near Hermione’s glass of wine she declared was too expensive.

He had pushed Hermione away with a spell as soon as he saw the glasses falling, getting her out of harm’s way. As easy as it was to pull pieces of crystal out of wounds with a spell, it would be incredibly painful. He also really didn’t want to have to explain to his mother how her favorite restaurant had destroyed the dress she had picked for this particular date with Hermione. As much as his girlfriend thought the dress was her idea, he knew better.

Hermione stood and charmed away some of the debris on the floor near her, but Draco could tell by the way her neck started to flush that she was acutely aware of the attention the spectacle was giving her.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said gently as he stood. The ring was hidden inside of his jacket pocket. “Go.”

A grateful smile and swift kiss on his cheek later and Hermione was on her way to the loo to compose herself.

Draco assured the server it was fine, and that he would step away as well to give them a chance to clean up before anyone was hurt accidentally. Obvious relief filled the wizard’s face that he hadn’t completely botched a night out for Draco Malfoy and his company. While his first few steps were directed towards the bathroom, movement caught his eye, and he made his way towards the hallway that connected the restaurant to the alleyway.

Dark lapels of a leather jacket filled his palms as he grabbed the scruff of the man whose elbow had knocked into the server.

“What are you on about, Potter?”

Harry let the smoke in his mouth from the cigarette knocked to the ground to blow out of his nose. “Let go of me, Malfoy.”

Draco pushed Harry away from him when he let go, but boxed his way from leaving. Another cigarette filled the small space with the stench of burning tobacco.

“Why are you here?”

“Can’t a bloke have a nice dinner?”

Draco punched the brick wall nearby. “You know why I brought her here tonight, why are you here?”

Harry didn’t answer. It took two more drags before Draco’s anger went back to a simmer instead of a boil. He stared at Harry in disbelief. A stone grew in the pit of his stomach as he took in the other wizard’s body language.

“Wait a minute…are you jealous?”

Nine Hundred and Sixty-Two

This was an anon request for a jealous Hermione. You had asked for it to be about an Auror colleague of Ron’s and I tried but I couldn’t make it work. Sorry, anon, I hope you still like it and thanks for sending it in.



If Hermione was certain of anything in this life, it was that Ron Weasley loved her with all his heart.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t worry a little.

After the war, the trio had reached an odd, feverish level of celebrity in the wizarding world that brought with it a crush of attention and many ardent admirers. Harry was used to the scrutiny, Hermione brushed it off but Ron, Ron had been overlooked and underappreciated his whole life and some of those ardent admirers were busty and blonde…

“Ah, come on,” Ron said. “Why would I go for those stewed mushrooms when I already have a bacon sandwich?”

“How flattering,” Hermione sighed.

“Are you thinking about that girl from this afternoon?” he said. “She was getting a little touchy, yes, but I was just being polite. When dealing with difficult women, I have found it works best to be complimentary.” He paused. “Have I mentioned you look lovely tonight?”

She swatted at him half-heartedly.

“Hermione?” he said and there was no more joking in his voice. “Do you really not know?”

When she didn’t reply he took her face in his hands and gave her a firm kiss. And not just any kiss, but one of those ardent, slow, toe-curlingly wonderful kisses that he was so terribly good at.

“Nine hundred and sixty-two,” he said when he finally let her resurface.

“What?” she said dimly, still trying to regain her bearings.

“Nine hundred and sixty-two. I have kissed you nine hundred and sixty-two times.”

She laughed. “You’re counting?”

“Yes,” he said seriously. “I’ve been keeping track since the first one. Mouths only. No cheeks or, uh, other parts. It gets a little hard because they sometimes sort of run into each other but I think I’m pretty accurate. Plus or minus five, anyway.”

She looked at him, amused and flattered but also rationally skeptical. The number couldn’t possibly be that high. They hadn’t been together all that long, and she’d have to subtract all the time she spent with her parents and those first horrible days that had been filled with funerals and tears. But on the other hand, there had been some secret, wonderful days where it seemed like all they had done was kiss each other and if she averaged them all out…

“See?” Ron said smugly. “Coming up on a thousand. Cause for celebration, that, and I’ve planned accordingly. We might even get there tonight if you play your cards right.”

She stood up on her toes and kissed him. “I think we can do it.”

“And just wait until you see what I’ve got planned for ten thousand,” Ron said, pulling her closer. “And then one hundred thousand. I’ve already got them all sorted.” He gave a sad shake of his head. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

But that was something that didn’t scare her at all.

anonymous asked:

hermione/ron “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Why thank you anon <3 I’m aware this took months to complete for such a short drabble but I hope you like it anyway!

The door closed with a gentle ‘click’ as Fleur exited Ron’s tiny attic bedroom. 

Hermione made a small ‘hmph’ sound and continued sorting through books, albeit with a bit more ferocity than before. 

“What?” Ron asked, immediately defensive.

She met his gaze briefly, only to tear her eyes away in anger. “You!” Another book joined the pile with a thud. “You’re practically drooling over her- it’s pathetic!”

Ron frowned. Hermione’s attitude towards Fleur had never been particularly friendly- he used to think it was because she was scared Fleur would run off with Krum, but now he knew that wasn’t the case. “I don’t drool…you’re only saying that because you don’t like her.”  

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed derisively, “Yes, well, she hasn’t exactly been very friendly now, has she?”

Ron felt this was an unfair assessment on Hermione’s part; Fleur was plenty kind to him. He’d never detected even a hint of malice in her character before. “Oh come on Hermione, you know that’s not fair. You haven’t given her a chance!”

“Yes I have! She’s just stuck up, with her ‘I’m so much better than you’ attitude- she thinks she can get anything she wants just because she’s pretty!” Another book was slammed unceremoniously onto Hermione’s ever growing pile, and Ron watched as it collapsed. Hermione let out a frustrated growl and set about picking them all up again. 

Having never recognised that attitude in Fleur before, Ron frowned. Hermione’s argument had no basis, and besides, his brother wouldn’t marry someone if they were as bad as Hermione seemed to believe. It just didn’t make sense. Unless… 

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” 

Hermione froze, mid slam, and Ron could practically hear the cogs whirring in her brain. “No.” she denied a little too quickly. “Of course I’m not jealous. Why on earth would I be jealous of her?” She paused to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and stuck her chin out stubbornly. ”I may not be conventionally beautiful, but so what? At least I have brains.”

Most of her sentence went unheard to Ron’s ears; his brain could only focus on her brief self-deprecation, and how badly he wanted to contradict it. “I think you’re beautiful.” was out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

Fighting the urge to slap himself, Ron mentally cursed. How obvious could he be? And now Hermione was likely to be even more pissed off at him if she thought he was only saying it to appease her. He was prepared for her to either start yelling at him or otherwise ignore him completely. But she did neither.

“Really?” Hermione turned her eyes to him, surprised. 

“Yeah. I mean- yeah. Of course I do, you’re… umm… very, y’know, beautiful and stuff.” he blundered. The expression she was wearing told him she very much doubted his sincerity, and he tried to recall advice from the book Fred and George had given him. Be specific, it had said. “You have very nice, um, hair. Yeah, I love your hair. And… your eyes! They’re, um, a really nice colour. And… and your.. skin! You have really nice skin.” 

How much was it possible to fuck up in one sentence? Because Ron was pretty sure he’d just broken the record.

Despite his lack of eloquence, Hermione seemed flattered. She was fiddling with the hemline of her shirt and offered him a timid but still slightly puzzled smile. “That’s… really sweet of you. Thanks, Ron.”

“No problem. Anytime.”  He returned the smile a tad too enthusiastically.

Hermione was giving him a look she reserved for studying the board during chess. The look she used when she wasn’t sure whether to move her bishop or her queen, or when she tried to predict his moves ahead of her own. 

He studied her in return, and they engaged in a very strange battle of wits. Ron wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, only that he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to look at Hermione like this forever. Openly, unabashedly staring at her sharp features and dark eyes. Endlessly staring at the intriguing magnificence that was Hermione Granger. 

The moment felt incredibly intimate, just staring into each others eyes, so silent you could practically hear it, their faces slowly getting closer. 

Bloody hell. It had slipped up on Ron before he had time to register anything, but his face was close enough to hers that their noses were almost touching. 

He felt as if he were on autopilot as his head turned to the side. Hesitant to close his eyes, sound in the belief that everything would be gone when he re-opened them. He could almost feel her breath on the skin of his lips when the door burst open. 

He jumped back from Hermione in a flurry, heart pounding wildly. “I’m doing it! I’m doing- Oh, it’s you.”  

Ron Weasley spent the next half hour discussing their plan for the horcrux hunt, desperately trying to forget about what had almost happened between him and Hermione, and plotting all of the different ways in which he could kill Harry James Potter for his bloody inconvenient timing.

anonymous asked:

"Wait a minute. Are you jealous?" Hermione x Tom 😊

“Wait a minute.  Are you jealous?”

“Yes.”

Hermione jumped, her eyes snapping open in shock. To say that she had not expected such a straightforward answer would be an incredible understatement. She had prepared herself for flowing words, half truths, taunts, or outright lies, but to be faced with a fact was quite beyond her current comprehension. Particularly considering that she was speaking to a consummate liar and sociopath.

“Jealous of what?” She demanded, quickly catching herself, but knowing by the amused curve of his lips that he had apparently caught her slip up.  “Of Ronald?” She pressed in an undertone, as though speaking of him might summon him up out of nowhere.

He laughed softly, his thin fingers folding neatly together as he waited patiently for her to make her next move. Her chess pieces were not going to move themselves. Well, not without her orders anyway.

“Answer me.” She snapped angrily.  Hermione was one for facts, logic, and solid proof. These mind games, the were absolutely maddening. Yet, in response, Tom’s smile only seemed to widen, a cold smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“I’m jealous of the one that feels entitled over you.” Tom replied, his voice as smooth as silk, as comforting as velvet. His eyes traced everything about her features, from the shock of curly hair to the gentle curve of the dark skin of her cheek to the graceful arch of her neck.

“Why…?” Hermione hadn’t wanted to ask. She felt she already knew the answer.

“Because he’s infringing on my territory.” Tom replied softly without hesitation, turning his attention back to the board without a second glance. “Make your move. I’m about to win.”