"I can't think of anyone else I would rather have marrying my little sister, truth be told, there is no one. He's my best mate, got a bit of a good reputation," Ron paused for the expected laughter. "He's bloody honorable and he's a good man. To Harry and Ginny." After two years and the completion of his auror training, Harry had finally married Ginny. It was mid August, just under two years since their engagement. They were at the Burrow, underneath a large white pavilion tent. They happy couple was standing by the beautiful tiered cake, made by Mrs. Weasley, smiling at the speeches being made. Ron, Harry's best man, was first. Next was Hermione, the maid of honor and three year girlfriend of Ron.

"I can't think of anything to describe Harry and Ginny except perfect. They are the perfect couple, made for each other. I can remember Harry spending hours just thinking of her, wishing he were with her, in what was supposed to be our seventh year at Hogwarts. In her seventh year he was always sending off owls, thinking of excuses to visit Hogsmeade, and surprising everyone at the ministry by nearly not passing his auror training. I remember him asking if his idea for proposing to her was good enough, I laughed and nearly cried just hearing about it. Everything is perfect. I can't imagine seeing them anywhere but together, and I know I never will. To Harry and Ginny."

"Care to dance?" Ron lifted Hermione's hand. She sat watching Harry and Ginny, who were celebrating their first wedding anniversary. Ginny had announced that she was pregnant, due in spring, and Hermione was watching her, half jealous.

She smiled up at her long time boyfriend and the love of her life. "I would love to." They had set up a makeshift dance floor and music for the afternoon party and Ron led her out, smiling into her honey brown eyes. A slow song came on and Ron pulled her close, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as they swayed.

"Let's get out of here for awhile." He whispered into her ear.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. I just want to be alone with you."

Hermione looked curiously into his blue eyes, they held a smile she didn't quite understand. "Okay. Shouldn't we tell your mother first?"

"No. It's okay. Let's just go, come on." Grabbing her hand, he led her out of the crowd and out the garden gate. Wrapping her in his arms, he apparated away.

"Hogsmeade?" Hermione recognized the small town at once. They had years of good memories here, many in school and many after.

"Yeah. We haven't been here in awhile." Which was true, they hadn't been there since last April. Everything they needed was in Diagon Alley and there was no real reason, besides the excellent butterbeer, to visit. George, who had opened a branch of the joke shop there two years before, was the only one who really went there regularly. Ron's explanation made sense, but the way he said it made her think there was something else behind his choice.

"That's your only reason?"

"Do I need another one?"

Hermione wondered when he dodged the question, but had no real reason to suspect something. She shook her head and took his hand. "Alright then, where to first?"

"Why don't we go to The Three Broomsticks? Madame Rosmerta still has the best butterbeer anywhere." Hermione nodded and they spent half an hour over their drinks, reveling in the memories they had made in the booth they occupied. The surface of the table was scarred from long use, initials and hearts were carved into the edges, some with dates, and she even recognized a couple of them.

"Where to next?" She asked Ron as they left the tavern.

"Why don't we go to the book shop?"

"Really?"

"I'm wounded Hermione!" Ron mimed being stabbed dramatically. She laughed and put her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry honey, it just isn't your usual suggestion."

"Quidditch isn't my only interest you know. I read."

"Quidditch magazines." He gave her a mock glare and she laughed. "Okay, and the Daily Prophet."

"Really Hermione, and you call yourself the love of my life. You don't even know me hardly at all. I read books."

"Fine. I guess you do read a little bit of fiction now and again." She teased as he opened the door of the book shop for her.

"Good afternoon ma'am, sir. What can I do for you today?" A small portly wizard asked them cheerily.

"Just browsing." Answered Hermione. She smiled at Ron and went off on her own, knowing he would understand, and ran her fingers along the spines of the volumes. Ron smiled as she did, loving the old and recognizable habit.

"I actually have a question about a book." She heard him say in the background. "It's quite rare."

"Of course sir, this way." Ron followed the shop owner away to a dusty section, leaving Hermione to peruse the books alone. She had been reading about a new discovery concerning the uses of dragon's scales when Ron called for her.

"'Mione! Come here sweetheart." She put the book back on the shelf and followed his voice to the rare collections section. He was holding a leather bound book in his hands and was grinning at her. "Look at this honey, you'll love it." The shop keeper beamed and moved away.

"What is it?"

"It's an original copy of The Art of Arithmancy from 1642." Hermione's eyes grew huge. "I thought you might like it."

"Oh! Ron that's wonderful. How much is it?"

"Don't worry about it. I already bought it for you."

"Oh thank you love, but my birthday isn't until next month."

"I don't need an excuse to buy something for you." He handed her the book, grinning goofily.

"Are you okay Ron?"

"Fine. Brilliant. Just look at the book." Hermione gave him an odd look, but lifted the heavy tome to look at it, turning to a reading stand to lay the heavy book down. Opening to the first page, she gasped. Not a title page, as she was expecting, but a piece of parchment, quite new.

My Dearest Hermione,

I love you so much, more than anything in this life or any other. We have both lost loved ones and have seen suffering and pain. I never want to lose you, I never want to let you suffer or feel pain. I want to spend every sunrise with you, and every sunset by your side. I want to wake up in the morning and see your face. I want to grow old with you, raise a family with you, and love you forever.

Will you marry me?

Ron

Hermione whirled around to face her boyfriend. He had silently changed positions. Now he was kneeling on one knee, a ring held up before her. A look of nervous anticipation was on his freckled face. That face she adored so much, the shining eyes she loved.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes. Oh Ronald, yes!" He slipped the ring on her finger and stood.

"I was so nervous, I rehearsed that for hours 'Mione!" He exclaimed." Hermione laughed softly.

"It was perfect Ron. I'll think of this moment for the rest of my life when I look at the cover of a book."

"So it was okay? I did it right?" She just kissed him.