"Hermione…"
"Yes?" Her long, bush-like hair whipped around her face. I loved Hermione's hair, even when she didn't put hair product in. Especially then. And when she tossed her hair, even just a bit, I could always smell her sweet perfume — cherry and vanilla.
Suddenly, I felt very nervous about what I was about to do. I couldn't understand why—this was my girlfriend, who loved me, who was carrying my child. We were soul-mates and we both knew it.
"Yes?" she said again, interrupting my thoughts. Her hands were massaging her swollen belly. She was three months along with child — my child, I thought again with pride. If it looked anything like its mother, it would be most beautiful baby in the universe.
"I wanted to ask you something," I began, feeling my ears turn red. "Will… will you marry me?"
Hermione froze. She was obviously not expecting that question. "What?"
"Will you marry me?" I repeated, shaking inside. What if she said no? Then what?
My heart sank when her bushy mane swung back and forth. "No," she answered.
"But… but…" I sputtered. "Why not?"
"Don't think that I don't love you, Ronald," said Hermione quickly, "because you know I do. But it's just… too much with this baby coming, isn't it? We'd have to wait for a few years after the birth, anyway."
Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them away. "I just want everyone to see that you're mine. Forever," I whispered.
Hermione rolled those beautiful chocolate eyes that I loved. "Ron, I'm pregnant with your baby."
"You could still leave me," I protested.
Again, she rolled her eyes. "Ron, why would I leave you? I've been asked millions of times to marry a handsome and rich wizard, and every time I said no. Don't you think if I were to leave you, I'd have done it then?"
She was right. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid," I told her.
"I know." Hermione laughed, the most glorious sound I have ever heard. "And I love you for it."
