Disclaimer: I don't even own a cell phone...how can I possible own rights to Harry Potter? I'd be rich...
Author's Note: This is my first story for Harry Potter. I was watching the fourth movie with my sister the other day, and we were having a running commentary on Ron and Hermione and Harry's love lives. I started wondering how Ron and Hermione would have gotten engaged...I have several other ideas, but this one hit me as being the most plausible. So I decided to write it out and see what happened.
This takes place a couple of years after the Battle of Hogwarts.
Note: Yes, I am a firm supporter of Hermione and Ron. Other pairings hinted at are Bill and Fleur and Harry and Ginny. Super slight mention of Neville and Luna, but that shouldn't affect anyone's intake on the actual events of the story.
"Hermione…can I…well, can I talk to you?"
Hermione looked up from where she had been struggling at a game of Wizard's Chess against Percy. "Sure, Ron." She moved a knight in front of one of Percy's black pawns, giving simple instructions to try to blockade him before making an advance.
Ron sighed, and looked down at the tray of desserts in front of him. Maybe he should just grab a pastry, eat it, and pretend he hadn't said anything…a sharp pain quickly hit his right leg. He muttered a few choice words, flinching when his mother noticed and sent the book she was reading at him, and looked to his right.
"Get a move on!" Harry was mouthing, smirking at him while he and Ginny tasted some of George's newest creations. His arm was around Ron's sister, who was trying to take an animated fire off of her fiery-looking hair—the actual fire, while not dangerous, was courtesy of the new Flaming Bonbons. Ron had helped a bit in making those—well, helped throw away the remnants and clean up the remains of previous errors, that was.
Harry made to kick him subtly again, an art they had grown fond of during long class periods. Ron dodged the blow, getting up and dragging Harry to the kitchen with him. He sent a Muffliato charm to block the entrance way, then turned and faced Harry, a scowl clear on his face.
"You know what? I think I'm going to wait until tomorrow…or maybe next week…you know, I think next year would be a better time…"
Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. "No. Ron, you're my best mate, but sometimes you really are thick. As Hermione would say, you have no tact whatsoever."
Ron shrugged and looked down. "Exactly. I'll do what we know Hermione would say—I'll read up on it—and then I'll try again in a while. A long while." He made to leave the kitchen once again.
Pushing him back, Harry grimaced at his friend. "Ron, I'm pretty good at immobilizing charms. Don't make me put one on you. Now, get your nerve up and just do it already!"
"And what if I say no?" Ron asked brazenly.
Harry let him go and looked around the kitchen. "Then I'll be forced to tell your mother what you did with your collection of sweaters after Christmas every year."
Ron looked at him, aghast. "Come on, Harry, Pig really likes them…they're nice nesting material! This is so not fair!"
"You not doing what you planned is so not fair. Just give it a try. The worst that can happen is you two remaining friends," Harry replied, knowing he had the upper cards this time. "Now, come on. You've fought swarms of Death Eaters, and pretended to have a wife, and ridden a dragon before! This isn't the scariest thing you've ever done!" He quickly grabbed an extra tray of cookies, muttered a charm to dissolve the previously created Muffliato, and left the kitchen, smiling at Ron as he left.
Ron stood there in the doorway for a moment, watching his friend join the fray of Weasleys and select friends. Despite the summer being warm and comfortable, a fire was present in the fireplace, heating the multitude of bodies scattered about, doing random activities in small groups.
"I must be mental," he said as he entered the main room again. Bill had taken Ron's previous place next to Harry, and Fleur was nestled on his lap, her stomach bigger than he thought possible for the slight French girl. She was taking pregnancy with apparent ease, and Mrs. Weasley was fussing over her more than Bill was. Instead of fighting for his seat back, Ron crossed the room, dodging George and Charlie's Gobblestone game; his mother and Mrs. Tonks helping young Teddy, now arrayed with a mess of blue hair, to throw a ball; and his father, Luna, and Neville, discussing highlights to that weeks Quibbler. They had decided to invite those two over to join the small summer party Mrs. Weasley had decided to hold, for no reason whatsoever besides to celebrate the 'joys of the family being together.'
At the side table where Percy and Hermione were playing their game of chess, the tables had turned. As great a strategist as Hermione was, chess would never be her forte. Most of her pieces, minus a few pawns trapped in one corner and a rook as the sole guard to her king, were discarded to the side, where they appeared to be having a tea break.
"Check," Percy said as his queen moved into position. Hermione made haste to try to cover her king.
"Check. Again."
Ron sighed and stepped forward, looking at the game. This was the last time he was letting her borrow his chess set. "Hermione, doing that will only leave this side free to the bishop. Move the king here," he said, pointing, "and you can work on gaining ground back.
Hermione looked at him, smiling. "Thanks. But I think I'm about done with this…this is the twentieth time Perc's said 'check' today, and I think your set is about to perform a mutiny." She and Percy laughed.
"Call it a truce, then?" Percy asked, making to gather his pieces. Hermione nodded.
"Maybe I should stay away from chess…" she said, smiling as she gathered the remaining pieces and gave the bag to Ron. "Here's your set back."
"Your welcome," he said, putting the bag back down on the table and following her to vacated couch. Luna must be out showing his dad and Neville something or other…Ron thought. And from Hermione's silence, she must have forgotten about… "So, Ron, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Ron groaned slightly. "Hermione, I…" He looked toward Harry who was smiling triumphantly at him, and motioning toward the door. "I want to talk to you about something…" He made sure to shoot a glare at his 'best friend.'
Hermione laughed. "Not very descriptive, are you? So, let up, what is it?"
Ron looked around the room. His family: his mother, Charlie, Bill, Ginny, George, Percy, his dad somewhere nearby, Fleur even. Teddy and Mrs. Tonks. His best friends: Harry, Luna, Neville, Hermione right across from him. "Can we go somewhere more…private?"
Hermione smiled. "Where do you have in mind?"
Ron got up, Hermione following him as they left the crowded sitting room for the comfort of the warm night. He led the way through a small path that led to the forest road, a small aisle which almost never saw Muggle use. Broomsticks and sudden Apparation were much more familiar to it than cars, or even bicycles. Hermione was walking beside him now, smiling at the road. She was the first to speak.
"Walks around here always remind me of hiding abroad. So much to see, so much waiting in the shadows—as horrible as it was, I kind of miss it," she muttered, looking at Ron expectantly. He gazed at the familiar road, pretending to think on her words.
In reality, he was trying not to hyperventilate, or run away screaming bloody murder. In no ways would he ever be prepared for this. No one could ever be, he supposed. He'd almost rather relive that night, when he had to destroy the locket filled with his fears, than be out here right then.
Almost.
"Ron? If this was just an attempt to kiss or hold my hand, you didn't need to take me out here. Mrs. Weasley has been turning a blind eye to that," Hermione said, smirking.
Ron shook himself. He was acting pathetic, worse than normal. What would Harry do? He would be cool and confident, like always. Ron didn't think he had those easy defining characteristics. "Hermione," he said, looking at the night sky. "I, um…I wanted to, um…talk."
"I realized that, Ronald." Great. She was a little annoyed with him if she was using his full name. Her lips were upturned in a slight smile, as if she were sharing a private joke, but Ron was too busy trying to come up with a good comeback to notice.
"Yeah. I realized. That you realized. Um. It's pretty here tonight, huh? Nice, warm…" Ron stopped blathering his awesome comeback, making his mouth close. How had Bill managed this? It must be the ponytail, Ron thought.
Hermione stopped walking and was staring at Ron, obvious amusement alight on her face. "The weather? Honestly? Come on, Ron, what is it really?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head.
Ron looked at her. She was beautiful, standing there with a mass of trees and stars surrounding her. She was wearing a denim jacket over what he had seen earlier to be a red tank-top when she had complained of it being too hot. Her hair hung limp and loose in the humidity, partially obscuring her face from his view in the summer night.
He, on the other hand, probably looked pathetic. It was a casual party, just a gathering of family and friends, so he had just pulled on jeans, a brown shirt bearing, in orange letters, The Chuddley Cannons, and his hair was scattered all over. Maybe it wasn't too late to turn back…
"Actually, I think it's getting to be chilly. Here," Hermione said, smiling as she looked to the ground for kindling. Taking out her ivy-designed wand, she muttered a small spell. A haze of blue fire appeared on the ground, creating a small flame before it stopped spreading. Hermione knelt over it, putting her hands on top to warm up.
Ron came forward. "Fire always was one of your strong points. Literally and figuratively," he said, smiling as he joined her.
Her eyebrows raised as she looked at him. "Figuratively? I'm going to take that as a compliment."
He laughed, throwing a leaf into the small blaze. "It's amazing how we've been able to remain friends—you, Harry, and me."
"You sound like you've been doubtful."
The night sky created a sharp contrast to the bright fire. The stars were scattered overhead, the fire in one place, yet he knew the stars were stronger and bigger. At least, that's what his father had told him. He really didn't quite understand Muggle astronomy. "Not doubtful, not really. Just amazed. And a little relieved."
Maybe, just maybe, the stars and the fire were like people. The fire blazing, people flocking to it for comfort, but the subtle stars providing the beauty and mystery the world needed.
"Well, we've all gone through a lot. If we weren't friends, there wouldn't really be a point, would there?" Hermione asked, throwing a stick of her own into her fire.
Maybe he was a star. Harry might be a fire, attracting attention whether he wanted to or not, people looking on with amazement or disdain, or even fear. But maybe he, Ron Weasley, was a star. Sure, not as noticeable, but there, and, if you got to know him, maybe he could manage to be bigger than his best friend.
Just maybe.
"Hermione, I—I wanted to ask you something," Ron said, looking away from the night sky, and the fire, to stare at her. She stared back, her forehead creased ever so slightly as she waited to try to come up with whatever answer she could give to him.
He only wanted one word. That was all he was asking for.
"We've been through a lot together," he found himself saying. "Meeting on the train…"
Hermione laughed. "You had dirt on your nose, remember?"
"Are you going to let me continue or not? Besides, that's ancient history, that dirt." He scratched his own nose, hoping he wasn't dirty right then. "The train, fighting trolls, becoming friends. Every year, something crazy would happen. Whether aimed at Harry or not, we three tried to stick together.
"I know I haven't been the best of a friend at times. But I've tried, harder than you can imagine. And it always works out, in the end," he said, and his hand went into his front pocket on his jeans, grabbing for the small box as if it were a lifeline.
"It always works out in the end. But it's not about who survives. It's about who doesn't," Hermione said, looking at him. "We can't always win. We won't. But we have to try…"
"Hermione. We will always try. Together."
"You, me, and Harry?"
"Well," he said, and pulled his hand out of his pocket, "yeah. We're a trio. But I was thinking more of you and me, together." With that last line, he slipped a small loop out of the velvet box, and held the ring up. It was a silver band, with a white oval stone set smoothly upraised. A small line of red interrupted the white stone.
"Ron…" Hermione was staring at him with a wide expression.
"Hermione Jean Granger. Would you…" he wasn't able to complete his question due to a sudden hug from the bushy-haired girl.
"I thought you'd never…" she said, a little breathlessly as she backed off of him.
"Ye of little faith. Are you going to answer the question or not?"
She gave a mischievous grin. "Ask it, and I'll see if I can come up with the right answer."
Ron smiled. "Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"
Instead of jumping on him like last time, she chose to smile widely. "I'll let you figure out the answer," Hermione said, holding out her left hand. Ron grinned back. Slowly, he put the ring on her third finger.
For a few moments, they sat in the light of their fire, leaning on each other. Then Ron sighed.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, her head resting on his chest.
"I didn't…I wasn't entirely sure you'd say yes," he admitted. She swat at him playfully.
"Ye of little faith. Who knows?" she asked, starting to get up. Ron followed suit, dusting leaves and dirt off of his outfit.
"Only Harry. Firm supporter, he is. He was going to ask you for me, if I didn't make a move on."
Hermione laced her hand in between his. He could feel the ring, his ring, in between his and her fingers. "I think it's high time for the rest of our family to know," she stated, and began pulling him back to the Burrow. He came along willingly, pausing only slightly to cast a quick spell to make the fire dissipate. It was dark outside, but the stars remained, twinkling through the treetops. Maybe we were stars, he thought. Helping to light the way.
The Burrow looked comfortable against the dark sky as they approached it. Nothing major appeared to have changed while the two were gone; Luna, Neville, and Mr. Weasley were back from their mysterious escapade, George was now playing Percy at chess, and Teddy was down for a nap, but everything else was the same. As they entered the house, they felt a comfortable silence, marred only by quiet laughter from Fleur and the cackling of the fire in its pit.
"Where've you two been?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking up from where she was drying a pastry dish. "George wants to set off a few fireworks, and Fleur wants to take a picture of the entire family."
"Ze picture vould look quite 'ideous wit' out un member," the quite younger, and quite French, Mrs. Weasley replied, smiling at Ron before moving her gaze back at Bill.
Harry looked up at them, and, noticing Hermione's smile, grinned and got up from next to Ginny. He went over to the pair and gave them each a big hug. "See, Ron? Told you that this was easy compared to fighting Death Eaters!" he whispered, squeezing between them and putting his arms around each. "Mrs. Weasley," he said, louder, "and Fleur, you've got two members for the family portrait, not one."
Mrs. Weasley barely looked up from her drying. "It's only Ron who's not here, dear. I'm not expecting anyone else to show up tonight."
Harry smiled and pushed Ron and Hermione ahead of him, letting them take hands again. "Nope, I'm pretty sure I can count. One, two," he said, looking at Ron first, then Hermione.
Fleur looked up, this catching her interest. Her eyes went immediately to the ring slightly visible on her hand, and she let loose a grand smile. "Two! I cannot believe it!"
Mrs. Weasley sighed and looked up. "Harry, Fleur, we need to get your eyes checked. Ron and Hermione just came back. And, as much as I love Hermione as a daughter, she isn't blood relation. We're taking a separate picture with close friends…" Luna fluttered past her.
"Congratulations, Hermione! I expect a Flister helped Ron work up the courage…they're great at spurring emotions and confidence," she said, hugging Hermione, and then Ron. Neville got up and gave Ron a high-five.
"Honestly, what's going on with you all? We need to take a family picture, and do the fireworks before it becomes too bright! What are you fussing over, Luna, dear?" Mrs. Weasley got up, heading toward her youngest son and his friends.
"Oh, just Hermione's engagement. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I do suppose it is quite special," Luna said, skipping back to her chair. Neville followed.
Mrs. Weasley reached the three friends still remaining, her son and Hermione in the front, Harry grinning in the back. "Hermione's engagement? Don't be ridiculous…" she stopped when Hermione untangled her hand from Ron's and held it up, showing off the ring. "How—Ron, you…" she said, gazing at the two of them.
Then, before Ron could successfully Disapparate away, she had jumped on him, hugging her youngest son. "Oh, Ronnie, this is wonderful!" She moved off of her son, who started to gasp for breath, moving to Hermione, who she interlocked with another grandiose hug. "Hermione," she said, "thank you! Preparations…if you don't mind, we could use some of the arrangements left over from Fleur's wedding…I still have a few business cards…"
Hermione only nodded. Ron was left sputtering. "What? Shouldn't you be consulting and asking me?"
Harry was the one who answered. As the rest of the family gathered around Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, Harry muttered, "Ron, you may be able to defeat Death Eaters, and ask a girl to marry you, but you do not get involved in the wedding preparations. Unless you want your mother to murder you."
Ron just nodded, before getting slapped on the back by George. "Congratulations, 'ickle Ronnykins," he said in a high-pitched voice. In a serious tone, he went over and hugged Hermione, saying, "Congrats. But if you ever need your soon-to-be husband to be put in line, don't hesitate to ask."
Ron turned to Harry again. "You're my best man, right?"
"Of course. Wouldn't let you live with it any other way," he said, smiling back.
After a few more moments of general congratulatory statements and hugs, the ensemble was moved outside for a quick picture, taken by Mrs. Tonks, and George's firework collection.
It contained all of the usual deluxe set of wizarding fireworks, along with a few heart-shaped ones that would find couples and spin around them before disappearing. (George explained to Ron that he hadn't intended on using it, but that Harry had told him to bring a few for that night just in case.) The red hearts floated amongst Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione. Ron couldn't tell if there was one around Neville and Luna—somewhere in the middle of it all, Luna had created some red sparks to accompany the random fireworks, and, with Neville's help, they were now surrounded by a green mist.
Hermione lay her head on Ron's shoulder as the fireworks died down. The night was quiet and peaceful, and the fire she had created to warm up seemed like a lifetime ago. "Together forever?" she asked. Ron looked at her and smiled.
"Always."
How was my first HP fic? This will/will not remain a one shot, it all depends. I have other stories in other categories to write and work on, so I might not return to this.
This was also one of my first attempts at writing a romance. Did I succeed or fail (please say the former)? Please review and comment!