Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, am not J.K. Rowling. Therefore, I own none of these characters.
After so long, it was no surprise to Harry to find that he awoke to an empty space beside him. It also wasn't much of a surprise to hear mumbling and rustling in the next room at this ungodly hour. Yes, it was a weekday, but five o'clock was a tad on the absurd side. But leave it to Harry to be in love and living with the world's earliest riser.
He clumsily rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the washroom to try and convince her to come back to bed. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side this morning.
"What on Earth are you mumbling about?" He asked while tiredly wiping sleep from his eyes.
"Why are you still with me? I'm hardly the girl you fell in love with," she grumpily replied to him.
"Love, what are you talking about?" he replied, walking closer to her.
"I think you do know what I'm talking about!" Her anger seemed to be unbound at this point. What set her off this time was beyond anyone's comprehension.
"Please, I really haven't any idea. Explain it to me?" Walking up behind her, Harry put his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder so they were both now looking into the floor length mirror.
She scrutinized his face in the mirror, looking for Merlin knows what, before leaning into him slightly and continuing.
"You just don't look at me like you used to. I feel like you'd rather look at those girls on the telly than me," she started shyly. "You just sort of glance over me when I walk in the room now."
He turned her so she was now facing him instead of his reflection. "Is that really what you think? That those skeleton-like models are what I want? You've known me for fifteen years, 'Mione, and I've been in love with you for more than half that. How can you possibly imagine me wanting one of them?" He gazed into her chocolate eyes and cradled her cheek with his palm, gently rubbing the smooth skin beneath her eye with his thumb.
"So you're admitting that you think I'm fat!" She yelled and wrenched herself out of his arms, tears starting to cloud her vision.
"Wha...No...Hermione, that's not what I said!" Harry stepped towards her, reaching out, but when he got within an inch of her, she darted around him, to the other side of the room.
"It may not have been what you said, Harry Potter, but it sure as hell was what you meant!" She pointed her finger towards him accusingly. "You know I look like a whale compared to when we first started dating! My hips are wider than the English Channel, my thighs are looser than Lavender Brown, and don't even let me start on my chest!" She whipped around in an attempt to hide her tears, and stalked into their bedroom. Harry had to reign in his urge to immediately counter everything he just heard. After knowing Hermione for so long, he's finally learned when he needs to just shut up and listen.
He waited, but she didn't continue. Instead, he only heard her trying to muffle her sobs.
"Are you done being ridiculous, love?" Harry asked cautiously while walking to where she was sitting. But it was fate that day, and his girlfriend, once again, twisted his words around.
"I am not being ridiculous!" Standing from her seat on the bed, she glared at him. "There was a time, long, long ago, when you couldn't get enough of me. When we would have to excuse ourselves during a family dinner just to snog for an hour, when quick, stolen, kisses weren't enough to get us through the night..." she trailed off, sounding wistful and reminiscent.
"Where did all that go, Harry?" she asked, now speaking in almost a whisper. That tone, however, was short lived. "Is it because I'm not as perky as I used to be? Because my body isn't the same as when I was 18? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but gravity affects witches the same as muggle women, Harry!"
"Have you been reading that rubbish Ginny's been printing lately? Because for Merlin's sake, Hermione! You're only twenty-six! You're hardly a quarter way through your life, and you're worrying about how bloody gravity is effecting your body?" He really wanted to slap some sense in her. But he didn't think it right to hit a girl, no matter how irrational they're acting.
"You don't know what it's like, Harry. To always be criticized in the papers. Always having to defend decisions that aren't entirely yours, and situations you certainly don't find yourself in by choice..."
"No. I'm stopping you right there. Because I do know what it's like Hermione! I know exactly what that's like! Do you not remember my entire school career? All the shite Skeeter would write about me, and Dumbledore?" He to end this argument before it even started, because he knew where it was bound to lead.
He slowly walked towards her, hands out apologetically, wanting to take her into his arms and never let go. Again though, Hermione stepped just out of his reach.
"I'm sorry. I know you understand, so why can't you make this easier, for both of us? Make it all legitimate?" Because of her pride, she didn't beg him. But she did make it rather hard to call it anything else.
Harry sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped and elbows on his knees. "Hermione, what day is it today?"
"Monday," she answered slowly, not entirely understanding his rather odd question.
He looked over his shoulder to her and smirked at her.
He has the audacity to smirk at me right now? Really, Harry James... she thought
"Yes it is Monday, 'Mione. But what Monday, more specifically?" His smirk turned instantly to a broad grin.
She furrowed her brow in confusion before glancing at the calendar on their wall. She instantly blushed a shade worthy of a Weasley. "It's Valentine's day," she mumbled quietly, glancing down, and finding her toes instantly interesting.
Harry stood up and made his way to Hermione, this time with no hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her small waist, and pulled her into his body. They instinctively became so entwined, that if an outsider saw, they wouldn't know where one stopped and the other began.
"Yes, 'Mione, it's Valentine's day. A rubbish holiday if I ever heard of one, but you know what happened eight years ago today?" He asked this quietly into her hair. She nodded, but didn't speak, allowing him to finish what he wanted to tell her. "Eight years ago today, I told you I loved you for the first time. We were in the middle of a war, and on the run for our lives. But I had to tell you what you really meant to me, and so I woke up that morning and decided to tell you everything. The greatest part of that day was that neither of us knew the significance."
Hermione was freely crying into Harry's chest and soaking his shirt in the process. "I...I'm sorry, Harry...I shouldn't...I didn't mean to..."
"Shh...no need to apologize, love," he shifted so he was whispering directly against her neck, making her shiver from his breath. "I just want you to know that you looked absolutely beautiful that day. Your hair was dirty, with twigs in it from laying on the ground outside. The clothes you were wearing were torn and wearing thin from all the cleaning charms you had to use on them. But you looked so beautiful that I lost all my words the moment they came into my head. Do you remember how much of a bumbling idiot I was? Probably wouldn't have been able to curse a Death Eater at that point!"
Hermione nodded and choked out a light laugh at this. By now her tears had subsided, though it left her sniffling back the remnants.
"My point, Hermione Jean Granger, is that you were an absolute fright that day, but I still loved every single ounce of you. So why you would think that nature eventually taking it's course would change my mind about that, I haven't the slightest clue." Harry pulled away from her slightly to kiss away the wetness that still lingered on her cheeks. His hands moved from the small of her back to her hands, squeezing them lightly before moving one up her arm to the side of her face, and finally resting around the nape of her neck. He massaged her lightly before she spoke.
Hermione looked into his emerald green eyes and sighed heavily. "I know, Harry. I know how much you love me. It's just that you hardly show it anymore. I'm..." She shut her eyes tightly and bit her lip to fight back another bout of tears before continuing. "Sometimes when I'm out with Ginny, I get so jealous because she tells me about how Neville bought her flowers one day just because. Or how he turns everything off while she's in the middle of cooking because he'd rather take her to the bedroom. I want more of those just because moments, Harry. I want you to show me you actually care, and you still want me. Because as much as you say it, and as much as I truly believe you when you say it, it just isn't enough anymore. Can you understand that?"
Harry rested his forehead against hers, sighing. Of course he understood what she wanted. It was his life's goal to make sure she had it all. "Hermioine, Hermione, Hermione...Whatever am I going to do with you?" He asked, chuckling and pulling away from her warmth.
Completely confused and caught off guard, Hermione was forced to sit back on their bed. Her puzzled expression made Harry laugh a little bit harder as he made his way around the bed to the wardrobe. Opening the mahogany doors, he rummaged through one of the drawers searching for his surprise.
"You sure do know how to ruin a surprise, Granger," he said mockingly from behind her. "I was going to wait until dinner to do this. I had everything all planned out with the restaurant...You would have been so impressed! Your parents were going to meet us there, and the Weasleys were going to come for dessert. But I suppose I shouldn't make you wait a second longer."
He was now kneeling in front of Hermione holding a small, black velvet box. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but this time, from a completely different emotion.
"H...Harry...What are you doing?" She brought her right hand up to cover her gaping mouth, as Harry currently had her left hand clasped in his.
"What I should have done the minute the war was over," he replied simply. "You have been the closest person to me for over half of my life, Hermione. You stood by me when the world turned it's back, and you have never wavered from your trust and belief in me. That alone is what got me through the hardest of times. Every moment I was having doubts, you were there, encouraging me that I was strong enough, that I actually could survive and have a normal life after everything was over." He paused and just gazed into her wondrously beautiful face.
"Your eyes make the stars look like they aren't shining. Your hair falls perfectly, even without you trying. I know when I compliment you, you don't believe me, but when you ask if you look okay, there's only one thing I ever want to say. When I see your face, there isn't a thing I would change. Hermione, you're amazing exactly how you are. When you smile, you don't notice, but everyone stops and smiles with you. You hate your laugh, but I think it's amazing how you can feel so much happiness all at once. I never want you to change, because you are the only perfect aspect of my life. So, Hermione Jean Granger, will you do me the absolute, and completely great honour of becoming my wife?"
Hermione was completely stunned. How had her complaining that he didn't show her he loved her turn into a total confession of his love and amazement of her and a marriage proposal? Of course, this was what she had been waiting for for the past eight years, but it still made her slightly off balance thinking too hard about it.
Long moments of silence passed with Hermione just silently staring in disbelief at the gorgeous ring Harry had picked out. A gold band with a medium sized ruby surrounded by what looked like dozens of small diamonds. It was absolutely perfect.
So perfect, in fact, that Hermione forgot to answer Harry, and he was beginning to get nervous. He was afraid to break the silence, however, in case her answer was anything other than the much desired yes. His worries were dashed when she finally came around and started crying out her answer.
"Yes! A hundred million times yes! Oh Harry James Potter I love you so much!" She was squealing with excitement and pounced on him, clamping her arms around Harry's neck. He hugged her back, just as tightly, though was worried he was going to suffocate if she didn't let him breathe soon. Gently, he released her and reached up to his neck to loosen her grip on him.
"Don't you want to put the ring on?" He asked, reluctantly pulling away from her completely, though relieved to finally able to breathe freely.
She flushed and nodded so quickly that Harry was worried she'd give herself whiplash. He pulled the ring from it's cushion in the box and slipped it onto her finger. They were both kneeling on the floor and so he was looking straight into the eyes of the woman he has loved since before he even knew what love was. This is the woman who had helped him through every trial, tribulation, exam, funeral...She was there for him when everything was at the most bleak, and there was no spare bit of hope left. She had been his light during the darkest of days, and she remained to brighten his brightest. There was no doubt in his mind that Hermione Granger was the only woman he was meant to love.
No matter what she thought about her body, he would always think it perfect, because inside was the most amazing, wonderful human being who has ever lived. And he was going to have her for all of eternity, and then some if he had anything to say about it...
A/N: The second half of Harry's proposal is pretty much directly taken from the Bruno Mars song Just The Way You Are.