A/N: This is my first HP story. I've had it in the works for a while now, and thought to myself, "What a better time to post it than for Valentine's Day?" Sorry, if it's a little out there, I've never been one to write romance. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dude, if I owned Harry Potter, Fred, Sirius, Tonks, Lupin, Mad-Eye, and Dumbledore would SO be alive. And Bill wouldn't have married Fleur.

"Sometimes it's like I don't even know you, Ron!" Hermione shrieked as she stormed into the kitchen. He turned an even darker shade of red as he slammed the front door to their flat. She picked up the soiled dishes scattered on the countertops and continued. "Seriously, every time, every single time, things start to go good with us and I can see us with a future, you have to bring that hope down on me and make me wonder." She put the dishes in to the sink and began to scrub them furiously. He walked in and leaned against the fridge, watching her every movement with an ever-darkening expression. She pushed right on, totally oblivious of him. "Where is the Ron that I love, the one I've been through hell with? Has he just completely gone and left me with this, this bloody nutter and absolute control freak?"

"Hermione, I…" He started to speak, and then noticed she was cleaning like a muggle. "Why aren't you using your wand?" She spun towards him, and glared at him while she drew up to her full height.

"Because I don't trust myself with a wand around you right now, you twit!" She shook violently as she spoke, and her mahogany hair started to fall from the elegant twist it was in. Her midnight black gown was soaked from the dishwater and her feet swollen from the strappy shoes she had worn that night. "I have tried so hard to make this work, but I can't see it working anymore. Do you even know one word I have said, Ronald?"

He looked up from his feet and looked her in the eye. "Yes, Hermione, I've heard every word you've said tonight. But being the genius you are I'm surprised you haven't figured out the whole point of this evening yet." She gaped at him, his eyes smoldering under his lashes. He looked quite stunning in his black tuxedo, his fiery hair shining under the light. Her mind started to review every moment of the night, searching hopelessly for a clue to tell her what on earth he was talking about.

When she awoke, the day started like any other, with the exception of it being Valentine's Day. She grumbled at her alarm before dressing and flooing to work at the ministry. There she had received a note, along with a dozen roses, telling her to dress up (as a muggle, for some odd reason) and be ready by eight sharp. Although she thought it a bit odd, she acquiesced and had just put the finishing touches on her hair when Ron had shown up in a tux with yet another dozen roses. They walked a few blocks away to her favorite 5 star restaurant that they never went to because it was always full with "Snotty muggles" and was much too expensive. They talked all through dinner in the candlelight, and everything was perfect. Until dessert, that is.

"I'll take the Chocolate Mousse and she'll have the…" Ron was telling the waiter their orders when she cut him off.

"Excuse me, Ron, I do believe I can order for myself." She frowned at him and turned to the waiter.

Ron grabbed her arm. "Please, Hermione, just trust me on this one." After a resigned sigh and look of annoyance, she nodded. He turned to the waiter and ordered a cherry tart. The waiter turned on his heel and headed to the kitchens, and Hermione turned her attention to Ron.

"Ronald, what exactly do you think you're doing? I can order for myself, thank you very much!" She snapped at him, and he looked up, his ears a shade of puce.

"I thought you liked me to be in charge, Hermione, and relax, I know what's good for you." She glared at him, an indignant look tainting her features.

"Oh, you know what's good for me, do you?" Her voice steadily rose. "I would like to be at home working, that's what I should be doing. How are we going to pay for this, Ronald, I thought this place was too expensive? And where'd you get that tux, anyway?"

"Hermione, please keep your voice down, people are starting to look," he hissed while flushing even darker. And they certainly were. As she looked around, snooty looking people quickly turned their heads away, still darting looks from the corners of their eyes.

"I certainly will not, and stop trying to tell me what to do! You're starting to sound like your mum." She almost felt regret at these words, for they obviously struck a chord. At that moment, the waiter returned carrying a tray. He put the desserts on their table with his nose in the air.

"Monsieur, Madame, far be it from me to be rude, but please keep it down or we will have to ask you to leave. You are disturbing our other customers," the man spoke with a heavy French accent before he left.

"Look, why don't we just enjoy our dessert? I'm sorry I upset you, love." Ron muttered to her as he stroked her hand once. With a sigh she nodded and picked up her fork. Ron watched her every movement with anxious features. She put down her fork and looked at him.

"Do I have something in my teeth or something?" He shook his head quickly. "Then stop staring, Ron, you make me feel nervous." She quickly picked up the fork and took a bite. She froze after a moment, and started to choke. Ron quickly ran across the table and, grabbing his wand in his pocket, muttered "Anapeno" and her airway instantly cleared

After a few gasped breaths, she turned to face him, still pink in the face, and whispered, "You know what's good for me, do you?" With that, she spun on her heel (breaking it in the process) and walked out of the restaurant. She had kept walking with one heel in her hand all the way to their flat without him. She assumed he had stayed behind to pay their bill but in all honesty she hadn't cared. She was so cross with him she couldn't see straight, and had let him know as soon as he was in the door.

She thought for a few moments, and ended up even more frustrated that she couldn't find what he was talking about. Reasoning was her cup of tea, after all. "What do you mean, the point? There was a point to this…this fiasco, was there? You couldn't just take me out for no…"

"Don't even try to turn this around on me, Hermione!" His eyes were glittering, his body flushed as he interrupted her in a quiet, dangerous tone. "Just because you're a bit miffed that there's something you can't figure out…" She tried to interrupt him, but he refused to be ignored.

"No, listen to me. You are the most brilliant, most beautiful woman I've ever met. Yet there is one thing that you can't seem to grasp. Not everything in this world makes sense! Not everything can be analyzed logically, Hermione! In a logical world, you would be with Krum, Harry would be dead and Fred would still be here. But Fred's gone, Harry's not, and for some reason that makes no sense, you're here, right now with me. Why is that, Hermione?"

"Because I love you, you twit!" She jumped at the chance to speak, but he quickly took control again.

"Exactly, Hermione, that's just it! Love. It makes absolutely no sense at all, yet it is the strongest thing in this world. It's the reason we're alive, the reason Voldemort's gone, the reason for everything! I love you, more than you will ever know. We fight a lot, we always have, and we always will. But we always came back to each other, no matter what. And that's why I wanted to do this."

He pulled out his wand and waved it, causing a dozen white orb-like lights to float over their heads in a circle. He put his wand into his pocket and kept his hand there as he slowly approached her, his eyes meeting her wide, confused ones with an intensity that she had rarely seen. When he reached her, he took her hand into his free one and sank to one knee. Her eyes, if possible, widened even more at this act.

"Well, this is no where near how I wanted this evening to be, but here it goes; Hermione Jean Granger, I love you more than anything. We don't always get along, but nothing changes how I feel for you. Nothing has since the day of our sorting, honestly." He chuckled. "We've been through absolute hell and back, we've almost died together too many times to count, and when we do, that's how I want it to be. I want you by my side forever. I mean, bloody hell, what would I do without you?" He looked up at her. She had tears in her eyes, but her expression told him that she didn't quite know where this was going. He took a deep breath, and holding her gaze, continued. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…Well, will you marry me?"

He took his hand out of his pocket and pulled out a brilliant diamond ring, and her reaction was instantaneous. She drew in a quick breath and the tears in her eyes finally spilled over. She pulled him up and whispered one word.

"Yes." He grinned.