Four little words
Summary: Sometimes, being honest is harder than it looks, especially when you add Harry and Ginny's 'help' into the mix. Fairly long one-shot. Ron/Hermione. Pure fluff!
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling. I just like to play with them now and again.
Rating: K+
"Will you marry me?"
"Nah, that was a bit too feeble. Try it again."
"Will you marry me?!"
"Too overdone," Harry Potter decided, tapping his jaw thoughtfully as he pondered what he'd just heard; "even for a practice, that was a bit too emphatic, mate."
Ron Weasley exhaled loudly in exasperation and lowered his voice several decibels; "Will. You. Marry. Me?"
"Gods Ron, you say you love this woman, you aren't trying to lure her to a dark corner of Knockturn Alley are you? Less of the gritted teeth next time please."
"Will you marry me?" Ron proclaimed, rolling his eyes in annoyance, though he actually followed instructions and didn't grit his teeth this time. Not without supreme effort though. They'd been at this for hours already.
"Not enough oomph," came the critically analytical response.
Ron put down the velvet ring box he was holding and gaped at his little sister in astonishment; "oomph?" he repeated blankly, scrunching his freckled brow, "what in Merlin's name is 'oomph?'"
Ginny rolled her eyes as she exchanged a glance with Harry; "you know, you need to really mean it. When Harry proposed to me, he almost cried, he was so emotional."
Ron gaped at his best friend, who although looked sheepish, was nodding in somewhat embarrassed agreement.
"I do mean it!" Ron protested hotly, the tips of his ears turning red, "why in Hades name would I want to CRY about it, though? That's just weird! If she's going to marry me there's no way I'd be upset about it. Is there?" He lowered the ring box, confused. Maybe he was missing something here.
Ginny rolled her eyes once more, in a characteristic gesture that was really beginning to make Ron angry. "And that Ron, is exactly the reason why Hermione used to think you have the emotional range of a teaspoon."
Ron looked baffled and then desperation filled his blue eyes as he considered his planned proposal which did seem rather… puny all of a sudden. "So first it's 'feeble' then overdone, then it's scary, then according to you two, it's not exuberant enough and I can't cry on command. How in Merlin's name am I going to propose to Hermione if I can't even propose to the pair of you?!"
Ron had been wanting to propose to Hermione for the last three months. Well, actually for the last 92 days, which was around 2208 hours, 132480 minutes and approximately 7948800 seconds if you wanted to get technical about it. Which Ron was, surprisingly.
He could even pinpoint the exact split second he'd realised he wanted to ask her, which was firmly imprinted on his mind: they'd been sharing a big bag of chocolate frogs whilst listening to a quidditch game on the WWN (or rather he was listening and Hermione was reading a book) and she'd saved the last frog in the packet for him, just like she always did. He'd thought with sudden clarity that it was simply brilliant that Hermione was always willing to share things with him, be it her house, her bed, her life generally or even just a bag of chocolate frogs and he'd thought how nice it would be to have her with him all the time. His thoughts had spiralled from there with the dawning realisation that he really couldn't imagine being without her, ever. And it was all thanks to a chocolate frog.
He sighed gloomily now as he buried his head under his pillow dejectedly and thumped the mattress with a scowl, causing Hermione to roll over in bed and look at him in bleary-eyed confusion. Maybe Ginny had a point: perhaps he did need to be more romantic after all.
After dwelling on his predicament for another couple of days, the perfect idea for proposing to Hermione in a flourish of romance and tenderness suddenly hit him. Infact, he was so excited he instantly apparated back home from the Auror office with a crack, rummaging through the cupboards to be sure he had all he needed. Candles? Check. Wine? Check. Fancy goblets? Check. The ring? Um…
Ron fumbled through his pockets in panic-stricken horror, breathing a big sigh of relief once he located the velvet box once more and checked the dainty, sparkly ring was still inside it. "Check," he mumbled, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. This romantic malarkey was more complicated than it looked.
And so the stage was set. He was going to propose. To Hermione. Tonight.
"Mmm, this is nice," Hermione said appreciatively as she curled up on the comfortable couch and accepted the silver goblet from Ron later that night, "what's this in aid of?"
"You work so hard, love, I just wanted you to relax and put your feet up for a change," Ron mumbled, feeling his heart constrict as she smiled up at him. She looked so lovely just sitting there and he was suddenly hit with a moment of panic as she raised the goblet to her lips. What if she said no? Bloody hell, what if she swallowed the ring? This was a stupid idea after all. Nowhere near romantic enough either.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron suddenly said, flicking his wand at her.
Hermione started in surprise as the goblet was suddenly wrenched from her grasp and suspended in mid air. "Ron!" she exclaimed, baffled.
Ron snatched the goblet with a sheepish expression; "um, I thought I saw a fly in the wine," he offered apologetically, "sorry 'Mione, I'll get you a fresh glass." With those words, he effortlessly vanished the goblet away before she could protest.
Hermione narrowed her eyes a tad suspiciously as he darted to the kitchen without another word, though his cheeks looked pink. Weird, she thought to herself intrigued, even for Ron.
Since the 'ring in the goblet' idea had been a bit of a flop, as well as any conversations he'd since had with his girlfriend where he'd tried to steer the conversation onto romance only to have her look at him strangely, Ron knew he needed to think of an alternative way of proposing.
He racked his brains all the next week and it was Friday night when it finally hit him: chocolate cake. He could cook Hermione a chocolate cake (her favourite, not to mention his) the muggle way and bury the ring inside the cake for her once it was cooked.
"I'm bloody brilliant!" Ron thought gleefully. Of course, there would be two problems: the fact that a) Hermione might actually swallow the ring and choke on it and b) he might get the piece of cake with the ring in instead of her. To combat the problem, Ron decided he'd ice the cake in a different way, clearly marking the slice he'd stuff the ring in.
Friday night was the perfect night to try muggle cooking for the first time, he was sure. Besides, how difficult could it be to make a cake? Hermione worked late on her House Elf Welfare Project on Fridays and he knew that if everything went according to plan, the cake could be cooked and all ready when she got in from work. Add some candles, some nice red wine and ta-da! Instant romance. Much better than the goblet idea!
Ron felt quite proud of himself for his brainwave actually. It wasn't every day that a girl could say her boyfriend had proposed via cake, after all.
Ron was desperately reconsidering his idea nearly two hours later when two cakes had already been ruined, or rather two 'attempts' at cakes, for they in no way resembled anything remotely edible. The first one had sunk because the oven wasn't hot enough and the second one had burned to a crisp, much to his annoyance. Ron was about ready to tear his hair out and had come close to simply magicking a cake instead, but that would have taken away the sentimentality. Instead, he soldiered on.
The third cake actually looked like a cake, which Ron had to admit was definite progress, though when he looked at the flour and eggs littering the kitchen bench, he cringed. He needed to get rid of all the mess before Hermione got home, that was for certain. Hermione hated mess.
Whistling merrily to himself, he assembled the ingredients for the chocolate icing and was just lifting the beautifully decorated cake into the fridge, in preparation of slipping the ring inside it later on, when a loud crack in the next room indicated Hermione had apparated home. Early.
Panicking and realising the kitchen was still an absolute disaster area (icing had taken longer than he'd thought), Ron turned around sharply feeling flustered, only in his hurry, he slipped on a piece of spilt eggshell and tripped literally over his own feet.
Ron watched as if in horrified slow motion as the cake slid from the plate to the floor where it splattered in all directions, crumbling instantly. NO!
"I'm home!" Hermione announced brightly as she scurried into the kitchen, loosening her robes, "mmm, something smells good--" she stopped abruptly, her brown eyes widening as she spotted firstly Ron's appalled face, then the messy kitchen and then finally, the ruined cake on the floor. "Ron…?"
"Sorry 'Mione," Ron whispered, feeling incredibly defeated all of a sudden as his shoulders sagged.
"Ron, what—what happened?" Hermione asked him, bewildered, "were you… muggle cooking?" her eyes were bewildered as the scent of rich milk chocolate assailed her nostrils.
"Nothing ever goes the way I want it to, that's what happened!" Ron burst out frustratedly as he slowly sank to the tiled kitchen floor, heedless of the spillages and crumbs and put his head in his hands, "I bugger everything up! Even tonight!"
Hermione was looking puzzled as she eyed the mess on the floor, then with a quick flick of her wand, it was instantly charmed clean, though not without regret. That cake had smelled bloody good. The cleanliness aspect couldn't be said for Ron however, who was liberally covered in melted chocolate, powdered flour and icing sugar. It was even in his eyebrows. Hermione didn't laugh at her sticky, chocolate coated boyfriend though, it was rare to see Ron this upset about something and she was worried. More to the point, why on earth was he using muggle cooking methods when he had a perfectly decent wand in his back pocket?
"What was so special about tonight?" she asked instead, carefully, dusting some icing sugar out of his red hair, her hands gentle.
Ron shook his head, "s'nothing," he mumbled.
"Ron," Hermione sank to the floor beside him. The floor was cold but she didn't care; "Ron, please talk to me. You just haven't been yourself lately."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, lifting his head.
"Well," Hermione chose her words carefully, trying to mask her fear, "you've been a bit distracted for one thing- Harry even managed to beat you at wizard chess the other day! And you're not eating much…" she eyed him with concern now, "even chocolate frogs."
Ron groaned out loud at the mention of chocolate; "honestly 'Mione, I don't know why you put up with me sometimes, that's all. I mess up everything, even something important like a bloody proposal."
He stopped short in complete and utter horror, realising what he'd just inadvertently blurted out and if possible his ears turned even more scarlet. Hermione's mouth fell open as she cottoned on to what he'd just said. "M—marriage proposal?" she squeaked uncertainly.
Ron groaned again and put his head in his hands once more, his face felt flaming hot now too. "See, I even mess that bit up!" he grimaced, his voice rueful and eyes disparaging. He was such a bloody prat.
"You want to marry me?" Hermione asked him incredulously. Suddenly the fact that the tiled floor was freezing under her bum didn't matter one iota. Nothing would have made her move a muscle now for the world.
"Of course I bloody want to marry you," Ron's voice was matter of fact and his eyes met hers in disbelief, "I love you Hermione. I've wanted to ask you to marry me for months."
"You have?" she stammered, her heart rate quickening.
"Only every time I've tried to propose, I've cocked it up," Ron plunged on, "and when I was practising with Harry and Ginny--"
"You were practicing?" Hermione couldn't prevent the smile from creeping across her lips at that image, it was so patently Ron.
Ron nodded, his ears the colour of a tomato; "—well, Ginny made me think I wasn't very romantic, so I've been trying to come up with the perfect proposal… only," he looked down at his chocolate splattered robes, "this wasn't quite what I had in mind," he conceded with a grimace, licking the tips of his fingers with a sigh.
Hermione thought back to his awkwardness over the past couple of weeks, his tentative 'romantic' conversations. How he'd snatched the glass of pumpkin juice away from her and seemingly spotted a 'fly' in it, vanishing it before she could even see it. Suddenly it all fit into place.
"What was this proposal going to be?" she couldn't keep herself from asking.
"Ring in the cake," Ron confessed, biting his lip. "I was going to make sure you didn't swallow it though," he added quickly.
"They're food-orientated proposal ideas," Hermione commented lightly, taking his sticky hand and twining her fingers with his, not caring that chocolate squelched between their palms. "Why?"
"Well, I thought it might fit," Ron said hastily, "you see, the first time I ever saw you on the train, I had a mouthful of sweets and I can still remember the way they tasted; chocolate always makes me think of you, you know. Then the first time you told me you loved me it was over dinner at the Burrow, the first time we well, you know, it was after all that wine and pasta we had in muggle London…" he hurried on at Hermione's arched brow; "and well, when I realised I wanted to ask you to marry me, we were sharing a bag of chocolate frogs and you saved the last one for me. It made me realise how I want to share everything with you, that's all. For the rest of my life." He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the sparkling diamond ring, which he'd planned to slip discretely into the chocolate sponge cake at the appropriate time.
Hermione's eyes were damp and Ron suddenly realised to his horror that she was crying. Oh gods, he'd ruined everything. "I'm sorry!" he blurted, panicked, "I'm really sorry 'Mione."
Hermione was gaping at him; "what on earth are you sorry for, Ron Weasley?" she demanded fiercely, "that was the most beautiful, romantic proposal I could ever imagine."
"Wh--" suddenly Ron found himself with an arm full of happily sobbing Hermione and as he felt his own eyes growing wet too, he finally understood what Harry must have felt. It really was the best feeling in the world when they said yes.
Though Ron being Ron, he had to check of course.
"Does—does that mean yes?" he asked her tentatively, his voice faltering uncertainly.
"Yes!" Hermione giggled, kissing first his lips and then the sticky melted chocolate that covered his cheeks and neck, causing him to shiver joyfully as he finally slipped the ring on her finger; "a thousand times yes!"
"Brilliant," Ron smiled contentedly as he pulled her closer.
And it really was.
A/N: Please let me know what you think! Reviews are my chocolate frogs.
