#it is a flat version of the corner bookshelf I current have

[bookwyrminspiration]

oh also by the way I finished building my new bookshelf today. if you were curious

[sinfully-romione]

Too Much Information

Summary: Dragons are usually the creatures associated with hoarding. Ron discovers that witches could give them a run for their money...

Rating: T

Sin: Greed

Ron staggered under the weight in his arms. “Hermione, you already have a copy of that book.”

Hermione turned and smiled at her husband of six months. “But I don’t have this particular edition. This has additional information from the last four years. I need it for my research at work.”

“Alright. But we’re running out of shelf space in our flat.”

“Oh, I already thought of a solution. We can make our bed a platform bed and use the space underneath it for storage for more books. I can do an extension charm underneath it so more can fit.”

Ron huffed. “And where am I supposed to put my Quidditch gear, dear?”

Hermione’s expression changed, one of cynicism. “Oh, I thought you had that in your wardrobe.”

“No, dear. I have my clothes and shoes in there. There isn’t enough room in the wardrobe for my Quidditch gear. That’s why it’s under our bed.”

She shrugged. “Well, you’ll have to find a different place for it. I need more room for my books.”

“Hermione,” Ron implored. He knew living with her had some issues but her collection of books was growing overwhelming. The way he called her name told her that – if she paid attention.

“Ron!” She crossed her arms and tossed her hip out in a terrific imitation of Mrs. Weasley.

He relented. “You win. I’ll build another set of shelves. But we really need to get rid of some books if we are going to stay in our flat.”

“Whatever,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way to the front with the new stack of books.

Hermione laid down the three books and Ron put down the other five in his arms. “Back again Ms. Granger?”

“Hello, Thomas. Yes, I am. I found these three for work and the rest for pleasure. My dear husband,” Hermione gave Ron a look, “said he would build me more shelves for the collection of books.”

Thomas the bookseller gave Ron a commiserating look and turned back to Hermione. “Let me see what you have here and ring you up.”

The bookseller opened each book and checked the prices, tallying them on an ancient galleon register. “This one is two galleons, and the next is two as well.” Thomas went through each until the last one and stacked it to the side. “The cost is 19 galleons, ten sickles Ms. Granger.”

Hermione opened her coin purse and doled out each gold galleon and the sickles, double checking the amount before pushing the coins across the counter. “I should be back in next week to get the new publishing of the Goblin wars of the 17th century.”

Ron stood there gobsmacked. “Hermione you have three copies of it at home,” Ron said. “Why do you need another copy of it?”

“Yes, but this one has the new chapter on the 1627 Goblin rebellion that I need for work. I have to have this new copy.”

“And the other three copies you already have? What can we do with them? Can we sell them back to Thomas here, or donate them to someone else?”

Hermione laughed. “Oh, I’ll keep them too. You know I loathe parting with any books.” Hermione stepped aside for Ron to pick up the stack, smiling sweetly.

“You’re going to break my back with these,” he said.

“I’ll help,” Hermione pulled her wand and lightened the load, using magic to help him with the burden. Hermione turned for the door with Ron following, wobbling the stack and hoping he’d not drop it. They had some ways to go before getting to their flat, including moving through Muggle London without hopefully being noticed.

“Hermione, when we get home, we need to talk.” Ron wobbled while walking on the cobblestones on Diagon Alley.

“About what?” She ducked and dodged through the crowds, avoiding most but the crowds melted back into Ron’s way.  He constantly felt elbows and toes on his size 12 feet while trying to not lose Hermione. Each elbow threatened to deposit the load on his feet.

He nearly made it into the Leaky Cauldron before being bumped, hard. He lost the stack of books, watching them crash into the gutter.

Hermione turned and huffed, waiting impatiently for Ron to collect the stack again. As he was knelt down, he watched his wife tap her foot and bounce between her feet. He huffed again.

“About your spending habits of books,” he raised his voice to be heard. People continued to flow past them, going in and out of the pub. He struggled to get the last book on the stack before she used magic again to levitate the stack of books into his arms.

She stood there, waiting for him to finally get comfortable with the load.  “Oh, that? I budget the galleons from my paycheck for the books.” She turned on her heel, flouncing away through the patrons in the pub towards the back wall of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Damn it, Hermione,” he growled before going after her, ducking random elbows and servers carrying plates of lunch and mugs of butterbeer and cider. He finally made it, waiting for Hermione to tap the bricks on the wall so they could make their thirty minutes walk back to their flat. Instead, she spun away, apparating home away from the crowds.

“Damn it, Hermione!” Ron growled before stopping. He surveyed the stack of books and realized that he couldn’t apparate all of the books, not without losing most of them. When did she get the idea that she’d apparate home, leaving him to walk the 2 kilometers back to their flat, holding a stack of her books?

Bloody buggering… Ron grumped as he put down the stack of books and pulled his wand, intending to tap the bricks in the right order to traverse into Muggle London. A very soft pop behind him had him spinning with his wand in his hand.

“Why are you still here?” Hermione stood a few paces away, looking impatient. She saw the stack on the floor at his feet and frowned. “Do you need some help?”

“Well, yes I do,” He growled. “Why’d you apparate away?”

Hermione stepped over and picked up three books and put them into her grotty beaded bag and held two more. “Will that help?” she cheeked.

“Considerably,” he replied, deadpan.

Hermione apparated away and left Ron holding the remaining three large tomes. “Damn it, Hermione.” He gripped his wand and apparated away, landing seconds later in the den right by the front door.

Hermione was already bustling around in the second bedroom with the number of sounds coming from their de facto library. She came out within seconds with a huge stack, levitated by magic, into the den. “I think I need to reorganize the bookcases. It’s currently by topic but I think I need them by importance right now. Goblin rights are relevant to my work at this moment and centaur history isn’t.” Ron saw the three bookcases in their den, all double-stacked and double-deep. Hermione lifted her wand and performed a silent incantation. All of the books flew off the shelves and circled her head in a circular pattern. One by one they flew into the bookshelf, starting at the top. Ron watched as it took minutes but all but seven books landed in the newly organized bookcases.

“Why are those seven not in the bookcases?”

“I need to read these two by next weekend and the others by the end of the month. Once I’ve read them, I’ll go next month and purchase more.”

“Why do you need to keep all of them if these are new versions of the old ones? Couldn’t, you know, sell them or otherwise get rid of them?”

“Are you mad? Why would I want to give them away?” Hermione turned and stared at her newlywed husband. “I don’t intend for us to live here forever. When we have a cottage, I will have my library.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “And right now we’re smothered in books. Every square inch of extra space is stacked full of books. Our spare bedroom has a thin path to the desk and bed and that’s it. Hell, there books stacked on the bed, too. We have the room stuffed full of books – books you’ve not touched in a year – in there collecting dust and taking up precious space. Hell, I can’t even work in there because there isn’t enough room in there for me to pull the chair out enough for me to sit.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. There’s room in there for you to work.”

“No, there’s not. I am not five foot three. I’m six four. I need space to stretch my legs out, not have them bunched up under my arse!”

“That’s not true at all. There’s room.”

Ron turned and stomped to the spare bedroom and tried to push the door open. He barely moved it, leaving just enough room for him to squeeze through sideways. Books shifted left and right, nearly toppling on him. He tip-toed to the desk, which was shoved up against the corner and looked on the desk. “She’s barking mad.”

“See? There’s room.” Hermione said smugly.

Run pulled the chair back six inches to show that his size 12 trainers did not fit in the seat of the chair. “And how pray tell, Hermione, can you make this actually work?”

“With magic, dear.” Hermione pointed her wand at the desk and it rose up in the air four feet. “See? You can sit there and work.”

“Well isn’t that effective?” He cheeked. “So the only way I can get in and out of the desk to work is by levitating up above my head before setting it back down where it’s supposed to go. I wonder what would happen if I am distracted for a moment while doing such? I dunno, maybe it would fall on my head. Maybe if I have it hovering and you ask me an important question it falls and breaks my bloody foot.”

“You’re being dramatic,” she huffed. Her hair exploded from the hairband, falling everywhere.

“No, I’m not. One day I’m going to get hurt tiptoeing in my own home because of your compulsive book buying.”

“You are not and it’s not a bad thing.”

“It is when you keep all of the duplicate books of new ones.”

“We still have room in the flat.” She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorframe. “I can enchant the bookcases to hold more, like an extension charm.”

“You’re missing the point. You have a problem. And the only space left is on the bed with us. Sorry, but I won’t have books in bed with us. This problem is getting out of hand.”

“I don’t have a problem. I budget monthly for my book buying.”

“You just wait. One day you’re going to come home and I’ll be buried under the books when they topple over.”

“That will never happen. “

Hermione tapped the knob of their flat and walked in, carrying her work satchel and a parcel from the post. “Ron, I’m home.” She set down the sack of takeaway from the Indian restaurant they both liked along with the parcel in her arms.

She took two steps and stopped. Ron was standing in the hall, looking like a thunderhead, his head wrapped and both eyes blackened. His wand was in his hand, pointed at the floor, and sparks were accidentally flying out of the tip.

“What the hell happened?” Hermione dropped everything, including her over-extended briefcase, making a resounding thud.

“What happened,” his voice was hoarse, “was that stack of books in our office, the stack just inside the door, fell. You told me that you put sticking charms on the piles. Well, you were wrong. Eight stacks of books fell on me, along with a heavy as fuck bookcase. I think I blacked out; at least that’s what the healer said. But I yelled for you when I came to, thinking you were still home but you weren’t. I yelled for you a few times before I wrote it off as a bad job. Good thing I had my wand in my hand and could levitate the entire pile off of me. But this,” he motioned around his head, “was how the healer at St. Mungo’s treated me. I’m also off from work for a week from the nasty bump on my head as well as a sprained back.”

“Oh no! Why didn’t you send me an owl?”

“Hermione,” Ron’s voice got soft, quiet, and ready to explode. “I did when I was at St. Mungo’s. I never heard from you.” He stood like a Sphynx in the hallway, blocking the way back to the bedrooms. “I sent an owl instead to Harry but he said he couldn’t find you either inside the Ministry.”

“Oh dear God!” Hermione turned ashen. “I’m - I am so sorry. I was in meetings with the International Wizarding Confederation most of the day and forgot I had all of my owls held.”

Ron pulled a face. “Well, that explains everything, doesn’t it?”

“I really am sorry.”

“Sure,” he said offhand. “So I fixed the problem.”

“What problem?” Hermione wobbled slightly in her kitten heels.

Ron took three steps backward and pushed open the door to the second bedroom. The door opened the entire way. “I got fed up with the problem. So, I did something about it. It won’t be a problem anymore.”

Hermione stood there, gobsmacked. “You. Didn’t.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Oh, I did.” Ron pushed the door wide open and stood aside for Hermione to look at his work. “Take a look, dear.”

Hermione stepped into the second bedroom which this morning contained thousands of book, collected from Muggle and Magical sources, all stacked up according to the topic. Gone were the myriad of bookshelves, double stacked and double high for each shelf. Gone were all of the books stacked precariously along the walls and on the flood. Gone were the books on the bed, the desk, and under the desk. Almost everything was gone.

All that remained of her gargantuan book collection were two bookcases, approximately seven feet tall, and single row stacked on each shelf.

He turned, feeling smug, and saw enormous tears falling down Hermione’s face.

“All my books, gone.”

“No, they aren’t all gone. There are these bookcases here.”

She turned on her heel, glaring. “I’m not an idiot, Ron. My books aren’t here. The rest are gone.”

“Yes, they are.” Ron smiled mischievously.

“What are you bloody on about? What did you do with my books? Please tell me you didn’t bin them all.”

Ron pulled the wand from his sleeve holster. He tapped four books in a pattern on the second bookcase and stood back. The shelving swung open and behind it appeared another room. “Oh, my Merlin!”

“I know how important your books are, but I need space too.  I need to use this office and, well, frankly, what we had wasn’t working. I asked Harry to have him come to the flat and work with me this afternoon. I had an idea but he knew how to do the magic. We came up with this.”

Hermione stepped into their magically expanded library and gawked at what her husband did for them. Each book in the room was placed in shelves, by subject, along with the four walls, with a row down the middle of the room. “When,… how… “ She couldn’t communicate what she desperately wanted.

“I’ve had the idea for a month, actually. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday but that is still a month away.  Today’s accident changed the timeline. Now, the shelves open up to where you need but when not in use, they line up into a storage space unit. That was the idea I had for making the room small enough but expansive enough to store all of your books. So anything you’re not currently reading can be in here, minus a few for decorations or current reading in the bedroom.”

“You…” her voice trailed off.

“When I was upset, I thought about chucking them all. Then I got smart.” Ron unrolled the bandages from his head and pointed his wand at his face, healing up the bruises instantly.  “But then I realized that I could have what I needed but also keep what was important for you.” Ron smiled. “Dad told me that compromise is a foundation for a good marriage.”

Hermione pointed her wand at the chair and silently accio’d it to her. “You’re so good for me and to me. I don’t deserve you.” Each breath shook her, shuddering to calm down from her anxiety.

“Nonsense.”

She took two heaving deep breaths and calmed down. “When I saw you were hurt, I was going to chuck all of the books, save a few. Well, maybe I was going to send them all to Grimmauld Place, for decorations in the parlour, but then you did all of this, as a gift for me, and I’m just… I’m awed at how thoughtful of a gift this is.” She looked up and while tears were still streaking down her face, her eyes were clear. “We’ve not even been married six months, and you have a birthday coming up and here you are, building me a magical library in our flat.”

“We needed it and this will do until we get us a cottage or at least a larger flat. Your books are important to your work and I realize it. I, though, needed some space to work, too. It’s not like I want to be bent over half in the den with all of my books and paperwork spread everywhere when I’m working on a case.” Ron grinned. “It’s not good for a bloke’s back.”

“You are right and I was being selfish in making you keep that for me without me considering your needs.”

“Yeah, you were. But It’s ok. You’ve had so much on your plate it’s a wonder that you get any sleep at night.”

Hermione stepped out and went across the hall to their bedroom and saw that it was tidied up, clean, and three books on her side table, all of them what she was currently reading for work or pleasure.

“When did you have time to do all of this? The flat looked nothing like this when I left this morning.”

“Well, there’s this little thing called Magic, and I do know some spells that are useful, and – “

Ron barely caught his wife in his arms before they tumbled back into their bed, with Hermione showing Ron how much she appreciated her incredibly talented husband.