Title: Remembering to Breathe
Author: elenorecanard
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,722
Prompt: Inhale, Exhale
Author's Notes: This is sort of a sequel to "Trying to Forget". Yes, it's written in a different style, but so it's not a true sequel, but it follows up on the events. It can stand alone however. Also, the usual stuff about not making a profit off of this, and not owning the characters and such.
"You know, if you'd just breathe a bit, you'd feel a lot better, and all this will be so much easier," Ginny tells me. She's sitting cross legged in the middle of my bed, playing with the snitch Harry nicked in our sixth year.
"What are you on about?" I ask, feigning ignorance and untying my tie to start over for a fifth time. "What are you doing in here anyway? I thought you were here to see Harry."
"Harry is taking a shower. I could go join him if you prefer. I'm sure he'd enjoy that…"
"No! No, you can stay right here and tell me whether or not I should wear a tie with this shirt or not." I can't deny that my best mate and my little sister were meant for each other, but I'll be damned if I'll send her in to share his shower.
Ginny stands directly between me and my mirror and dismantles the knots I've attempted to tie.
"Really, Ron, I don't understand how you can dress yourself for school every day for six years and all of a sudden, you get nervous can't decide what to wear? You're like a girl."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Gin." I haven't told anyone about my plans for the night, and I don't want them spoiled by my sister's uncanny intuition. "I have nothing to be nervous about," I lie.
Ginny hangs the tie on the rod in my cupboard door. "Right. That's why your hands are shaking and you're ears are red, and you have that 'I've-just-found-a-spider-web' look on your face." She laughs. "First of all, you don't wear a tie with jeans, Ron, especially to Muggle London. Secondly, don't worry about it so much. She'd be crazy to say no. She loves you. Just breathe and calm down. Inhale, exhale, and all that."
"Gin? Do you want to go to the Leaky or into Muggle London for dinner?" Harry asks, appearing in my door frame in trousers and no shirt. I look from my flat mate to Ginny and back again.
"Oi! Potter! Put a shirt on," I say, taking Ginny by the shoulders and turning her to face the wall.
"Sorry, am I interrupting a sibling bonding moment?" Harry asks, pulling his jumper over his head.
Ginny huffs and turns back around and eyes me for a second. "No, Harry, you didn't. Ron's getting ready to leave. Let's go to the Leaky. Don't worry about it, Ron. It'll be fine," she winks at me and walks past Harry. "Let's go, Love."
It's Harry's turn to look back and forth. "What'll be fine?" He asks me. When I don't answer, he calls down the hall. "Ginny, what'll be fine? What's he done now?" and he disappears too.
I take a deep breath. Ginny was right. I am nervous. Of course I'm nervous. I have no idea how she does that just-knowing thing (I'd like to know how the hell she knows I'm going into Muggle London tonight), but she's always dead on, and sometimes it's dead annoying. Sometimes, though, it's comforting.
The clock on the wall chirps. Yes, chirps. Some crazy Muggle clock with a bird trapped in it. Poor little bloke. But Hermione brought it over when Harry and I moved into the flat, and well, I couldn't not hang it up. It's actually started growing on me. The little bird pops out again and I know it's time for me to pop out too. I open my bureau drawer and take the little box out of the corner I hid it in. I slide it into my pocket and Apparate to Hermione's parent's garden. When Harry and I moved into our flat, we asked her to come with, but she told us she needed to spend sometime with her parents now that everything was over. So I'm picking her up here. Well, I pick her up at the house, but we Apparate to and from the back garden, away from Muggle eyes. So once I've picked my way around the roses and the peonies, I knock on the back door.
"Ron. Good to see you. Come in, come in. Hermione will be down in a minute." Mrs. Granger is friendly and welcoming as always. Mr. Granger is a little more intimidating.
"Ron," he sticks out his hand for me to shake it. "How are you this evening?"
"I'm well, sir, how are you?"
"Fine, just fine. Where might you be taking Hermione this evening?"
There it is. I knew he'd want to know. Damn.
"Er…" I stammer. "Just to a pub, for dinner, Sir." Now, I'm really nervous. I hope he won't ask too many more questions.
"Ron, you and Hermione have been seeing each other for a while now." Oh Merlin. Where's he going with this?
"Yes, sir. Just over a year. And we were friends for a long time before that," I tell him.
"Yes. Yes. Well, young man, I think it's time I asked you what your intentions are toward my daughter," he asks me. What are my intentions?
"Daddy, stop harassing my boyfriend," Hermione says from the stairs.
I let out the breath I was holding. Saved. Saved by an Angel, no less.
"Hi, Hermione," I
breathe. I step forward and kiss her hand. She giggles. She and I
both know that the gentlemanly gesture is for her father's benefit.
"Hello, Ron," she smiles at me.
"You ready, then?" I ask, knowing that if we don't leave soon, her father will start asking questions again. She nods and we slip out the back door, waving to her parents and heading for the roses.
"Where are we going?" She asks me, drawing her wand to Apparate.
I wrap my arms around her. "Just hold on, and close your eyes."
She smiles again, and I draw my wand, and turn on my heel.
When we appear in the alley way behind the pub, I duck my head to kiss her properly.
When I pull away, she slowly opens her eyes. "Snogging in an alley way. Very romantic, Ron."
I just wink at her. "You are beautiful, you know that?" And she is. Her jeans and simple shirt show the natural beauty that she has.
"Thank you," she answers. "Where are we?"
"Muggle London," I answer.
She raises an eye brow in question.
"Clearly. But where?" she asks again.
"Just a pub," I tell her. I've never been good at keeping secrets from her, but I'm determined not to spoil this one.
"There are plenty of 'just pubs' in the wizarding world," she says quietly, as I lead her down the alley and around the corner.
"Yes, but those pubs have witches and wizards, and they all know who we are. Muggles have no clue," I say a little too loudly. I glance around us on the street, but no one seems to have heard us. I lower my voice a bit. "I wanted to be just Ron and Hermione tonight. Not Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."
She smiles brightly again. "Getting tired of the attention, Mr. Weasley?"
I shrug. "A bit. I understand how Harry felt at school. I don't know how he goes to Diagon Alley anymore. That's all." I hold the door open for her and she thanks me.
The night is warm and so is the pub, just as it was the first time we were here and though it is full tonight, I finally see her eyes light up in recognition. She looks at me in question again, but I only wink and lead her to a familiar table in the back of the pub.
We order our meal and talk about work and I finally start to relax a bit when the waitress comes by the table.
"Say," she starts, laying down the bill. "You two look familiar. You been in here before?"
Hermione giggles.
"Yes," I answer. "A while ago."
The girl looks from Hermione to me and shrugs. "Well, have a nice night," she says and walks away.
"So much for not being recognized," I grumble.
"Well, at least it's better than the gawking we'd get at the Hogshead or Three Broomsticks," Hermione says brightly. "Alright, Ron. Why are we here, in this pub tonight?"
That's it. The question I was waiting for. I can hear Ginny's voice in my head. "Inhale, exhale. Just breathe."
"'Mione, do you remember our first kiss?" I ask.
"I try not to," she answers with a small snort.
What? is my first thought. "What?!" also happens to be the first thing I say.
"I prefer to remember our second," she says.
This is not the answer I expected. For a moment, I forget my nerves. "Why?"
"Because the one time I consciously decide to make a poor decision and get totally pissed, I almost blew my chances with you," she says matter-of-factly.
"Well, it turned out pretty well, yeah?"
"It turned out very well, Ron." Her smile lights up her face, like it does so often these days.
I stand and walk around the table to slide onto the bench next to her, like I did a little over a year ago, taking her hand in mine and scuffing her knuckles with my thumb.
"'Mione, you and I both know I'm rubbish at talking," I start, and she doesn't disagree. "But you have to know how much I love you. All I could think over the last year was that if you didn't make it, if, Merlin forbid, you'd have died, I wouldn't survive either. I can't imagine being with out you. You are my heart." I pull the small box out of my pocket and take another deep breath. "I hope your father doesn't kill me for this," I mutter.
"What?" Hermione asks.
"Nothing," I tell her quickly. I hope the box and gently pull the ring out of it. "Hermione, will you marry me?"
For a second she doesn't say anything, and I forget Ginny's advice and stop breathing altogether. Then her arms are around me and her mouth is on mine and when she pulls away she is both laughing and crying.
"Yes, Ron. Yes, I'll marry you."
And then I can breathe again, and I slide the ring on her finger.