The Train Again
A/N – I don't own HP, obviously, because I'm posting to Though, if JKR wanted to do that, and mess with her characters a bit, that would be both awesome and highly encouraged. This takes place a couple of years after the end of the war. If you haven't read DH yet, well, you really should.
It was September 1, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione were at Kings Cross, walking through the barrier at Platform 9 3/4. They towered over many of the children, making their way through the crowd to board the train.
Ron had been insistent about their all going today, and Harry wasn't entirely sure why, but he had a fairly good idea. Hermione fussed that it was a waste of time, that if Ron wouldn't properly tell her what they were doing, she was going to leave soon.
Ron caught Harry's eye, and they both smiled. They knew she was making an empty threat.
"You're such a prat," Harry heard a young, female voice say, and he turned to look. A young girl, who couldn't be more than a second year, was standing with two boys, waiting in line to get on the train.
"And you're a swot," one of the boys returned. The little girl scowled, but it was clear that she wasn't really angry.
The other little boy looked at the first boy and rolled his eyes. They laughed as the girl shook her head in mock disgust. They got to the head of the queue to board the train, and both of the boys took either handle of the girl's trunk as they used their other hands to handle their own.
It was clear to anyone who watched that the three were boarding the train together.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, stop complaining," Harry heard, and his attention was brought back to Ron and Hermione. All three were still standing in the queue.
"Ron, watch your language! There are children around!"
Harry and Ron looked at each other and smirked.
When they boarded the train, Ron led the way to the very back compartment. Harry knew it immediately, and it would always be his favorite; it was the one that he and Ron shared on their first ride to Hogwarts.
There was a sign on the door that said, "Reserved," but Ron walked right in. Harry and Hermione followed. Ron shut the door behind them, shutting the curtains.
Harry looked at Hermione, and she looked fit to be tied. "Are you finally going to tell us why you brought us here?" Hermione had her arms crossed against her chest, and looked moderately annoyed.
Ron simply sat down on one of the benches, and pulled out a box of Every Flavor Beans from under the seat. He opened the box, shoving a handful into his mouth. He wordlessly offered some to Hermione, holding up the box in front of her. She glowered at him.
He smiled larger than ever, and moved the box in front of Harry. Looking at Hermione quickly and making the gut decision that she might kill them both with her scowl, but that he also didn't care, he took a handful from the box and sat down next to Ron.
Harry knew now for sure what Ron was up to, and did the best he could not to laugh. "Hermione," Harry said, "I think you better go ahead and sit down. It seems unlikely that Ron's going to tell us anything unless we play along."
"Well spotted, mate," Ron said, his voice muffled by the beans in his mouth.
"Ronald," Hermione responded, "This is ridiculous." But Harry could tell that Hermione wasn't nearly as peeved as she put on as she sat down on the bench opposite of them.
The train started to move, and Ron continued to occupy himself with the beans, and the other snacks that he'd apparently stashed in the compartment. It seemed that Ron planned on their riding the entire journey.
"Relax, Hermione," Ron said. "I just thought it would be nice if we did this one more time together. We haven't had a peaceful ride on this train in years. I'd hate to remember it only as our transportation to and from danger and despair."
Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but she smiled instead, almost against her will. "Fine," she responded, unfolding her arms. "Toss me a Chocolate Frog."
He did so, also pulling out her copy of Hogwarts, A History and his Wizard Chess set from under the seat. He handed her the book, and turned to Harry.
"Want to play a game?" Ron asked.
"Absolutely," Harry responded. Ron did seem set to do the thing properly.
A few hours passed like this, with Ron and Harry playing chess and Exploding Snap, talking about Quidditch and the new shops opening on Diagon Alley, among other things. Hermione would join in at times, either to add something to the conversation, or quote what she believed to be a particularly interesting fact from her book.
When they were about 30 minutes away from Hogwarts, Ron offered the beans to Hermione again, and she finally accepted. Ron looked at Harry, and Harry almost laughed; Ron's expression was simultaneously fearful and hopeful as he handed the box to Hermione.
It was only seconds before Harry heard he gasp.
He watched her face as she drew a small, black, velvet box from the larger beans box. Harry glanced at Ron – he looked like he might throw up at any moment.
"Don't open it yet," Ron said. Harry had never seen Hermione so confused in his life.
Ron turned to face Harry, and began to speak. "I walked into this compartment when I was 11, and I thought that I'd never have a real friend. All of my brothers were better somehow; smarter, more talented, more well-liked. But when I walked in, you were my friend, Harry. I didn't think I was good enough to have a friend like you, but there you were, and I was immediately The Boy Who Lived's best friend. There were times I resented you for that, and you know that. But I never, ever regretted being your friend. Not when I almost died a million times, or when any number of family members were in danger, not once. You were my best friend, and, no matter what you do or what you need or who you are, you always will be."
Harry wanted to tell Ron he felt the same way; that Ron – his first friend – had been one of the best things that ever happened to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't find the way.
Ron patted him on the shoulder. "Don't try to say something back, mate. We all know you're rubbish with feelings and stuff. The only reason I know what to say is because Hermione makes me talk about my feelings all of the bloody time."
Harry snorted and punched Ron in shoulder. Hermione's eye roll was almost audible.
"Excuse me," she said, half annoyed, and half amused. "But I'd really like to know what's in this box."
"I was just getting to that, Hermione; keep your hair on," Ron responded. "If you remember correctly, Hermione, and I'm certain that you do, you'll recall that Harry and I met you just after we met each other. You popped your head in, looking for Neville's toad, and I almost immediately branded you a know-it-all. Harry did, too, even though he wouldn't say it."
Hermione looked incredulous. "You're speech for Harry was much better," she deadpanned.
"Hush up and let me finish," he said. "The truth is, I had it right from the moment I first met you. You are a know-it-all, Hermione. I honestly have never seen you not know something. Spells, facts, where to go and what to do. You're brilliant, and you always have been. I've known for years that you are usually right; a lot of times I'd just fight with you because it was fun. I'm not as good at school as you are, and I'll never be as skilled with magic, but I've always been able to rile you up when no one else could, watch you throw that mad hair around and see your eyes flash with excitement when you're just getting going on a fight. You know half the reason you put up with me is because you like our fighting, too."
Harry watched as Hermione's cheeks colored, and she fought not to smile. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answered. Harry suddenly thought that he might invest in a Pensieve, just so he could take this memory out and show it to all of Ron's siblings. It was the funniest thing he could remember seeing in a long time.
"Of course you don't," Ron answered, obviously unconvinced, shooting a conspiratorial look at Harry. "Hermione, what I'm trying to say is that, even then, when you walked into this compartment and told me my spell was dumb and there was dirt on my nose, you made me feel like I was better than I was, that I could be better than I thought before, that you expected me to be better than I thought I was. You were my friend, but you've always been more than that. You've challenged me to try, to fight, to see myself like you see me – as someone who you think is worth your time. And being worth your time is more than I ever thought I deserved."
Ron was good, Harry thought. Hermione looked like her face might break, she was smiling so hard, and tears were threatening in her eyes.
Harry very much hoped they wouldn't throw themselves at one another in front of him. Again.
Ron kept talking. "The point is, Hermione, that I fancy you and love you like mad; beautiful, bossy, know-it-all, fighting with me all of the time you, who has never let me get away with a thing and who, I hope, might spend the rest of her life making sure that I never do."
Hermione literally flung herself across the brief space between she and Ron, throwing her arms around his neck. Harry had to move quickly to avoid being tackled.
Ron caught her easily, returning her gesture. "So, is that a yes?" Ron asked. "Or a really enthusiastic no?"
"OF COURSE IT'S A YES, YOU GIT!" Hermione screamed, half laughing, half crying.
Ron pulled back a bit from Hermione. "You can open the box now, if you'd like."
It was clear that Hermione had forgotten the thing all together, even though she held it in her hand so tightly that it reminded Harry of his grip after he would catch the Snitch, momentarily afraid to let go for fear it might fly away.
She pushed back from him, sitting on the floor in front of him. She flipped the top on the box so quickly that Harry realized that sitting back on the bench would have taken too much time, in Hermione's view.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said in a voice that Harry almost blushed at hearing. He would have looked out the window and started humming to himself if the look on Ron's face wasn't so ridiculous.
"You like it?" Ron asked.
"Like it? Ron, its…this is the most amazing ring I've ever seen in my life. I can't take this. It must have cost too much, I-"
Ron cut her off before she could finish. "The shop is making loads of money. George gave me a bonus, we're doing so well, and it's completely covered. Now, put the bloody thing on before you change your mind.
Hermione slipped the ring onto her finger quickly, with an emotion that Harry could only describe as glee written across her face. "I can't believe it," she mumbled to herself.
Ron snorted.
Hermione turned to Harry, finally tearing her eyes away from the ring. "Harry, I'm so glad you were here; it makes all of it perfect. I can't imagine this happening without you here." She sat on the bench between him and Ron, giving Harry a hug after sitting down.
"I'm glad I was here, too, Hermione. 'Bout damn time, if you ask me," he said, smiling. "I've known you two should be together longer than either of you have, I think."
The train stopped, and Ron moved to get up. Harry and Hermione followed suit.
"Yup, I'm pretty much a genius," Ron said, smiling at Harry and Hermione and leading them out of the compartment. "Planning all of this out. Making sure Harry was here. Best proposal ever, probably."
"Honestly, Ron, don't be so modest," Hermione said, mockingly.
"You're going to tell me about modesty?" Ron countered.
Hermione glared, but it was clear that she didn't really mean it. Ron and Harry looked at one another and laughed as Hermione shook her head in mock disgust.
It was clear to anyone who cared to watch that the three were getting off of the train together.