A/N: A few spoilers to HBP. The characters belong to Jo Rowling.
All in all, the wedding had been wonderful. A warm Mediterranean breeze blew through the open church doors, and the sunlight filtered in softly through the open windows. Mrs. Weasley – the elder Mrs. Weasley – had broken down sobbing nearly as soon as she had seen her eldest son standing at the altar, and hadn't stopped fully since. Arthur Weasley had offered her a hankerchief, but he soon looked as if he needed one of his own. Ginny and Gabrielle had been lovely bridesmaids, but naturally, the girls had been utterly eclipsed by Fleur. Even as much as Hermione had joined in with Ginny in teasing "Phlegm," she had to admit that even she, - solid, sensible Hermione, - had tears in her eyes and a smile on her face by the time Fleur passed by her, headed down the aisle. It had been nice to watch the ceremony, to be able to sit back and take it all in without worrying about her appearance or expression or her teeth. This was quite different from the last time she had attended a formal event with Fleur, and Hermione was more than happy to fade quietly into the background for this occasion.
The presiding minister was performing the ceremony in French, but translation-spelled scrolls had been provided for the Weasley clan and their guests. Hermione prided herself upon being able to follow along without one, though Ron appeared to be moving his lips along with the scroll, trying to keep up with the service. Harry had given up, merely watching the bridal pair with an absent smile on his face. With or without a translation, the love in Bill and and Fleur's eyes was easy enough to understand. With all the horror they had already witnessed, and the chaos that was to come in the following year, it was comforting to see that some good things were universal.
Hermione nudged Ron to look up from his scroll as the pair completed their vows. He had never been much of a great romantic, either, but she could hardly let him miss the best part of the wedding through an attempt to make sense out of it. Harry had risen from his seat as soon as the ceremony ended, determined to escort Ginny to the reception, but Ron sat staring after his brother and sister-in-law until Hermione took him by the elbow and led him out to the garden where the reception was being hosted.
"Congratulations, Bill," Ron managed at last, once they reached the newlyweds. He took his eldest brother's hand in both of his and pumped it wildly. "And Fleur, it's – it's –"
"Eet iz wunderful to be part ov thee familee, Ronald," Fleur finished the thought for him, kissing him on the cheek. Ron lasped into awed silence again.
"You two do make an excellent couple," Hermione filled the gap. "And thank you once again for the invitations."
Fleur laguidly waved the comment off. "Think nozzing ov eet. You are like a seester to us."
"Much longer and maybe you will be in truth, eh Ron?" Bill teased them. His youngest brother spluttered wordlessly, turning pink.
Hermione felt herself flushing as well. "It was a very lovely ceremony," she continued, acting as if she hadn't heard. "But perhaps we'd best keep the line moving. There are many more who wish to give you their best, I'm sure." Indeed, there was a long line of guests behind them, and Ron had been hard to get moving out of the church. There was no hesitation on his part, this time. He practically pulled her to the buffet.
"Did – did anyone ever talk about that with you before?" Ron stuttered and poured himself a steadying glass of punch.
"Not really. Honestly, Ron, Bill was only having a little fun with that comment; he didn't mean anything." Hermione gave him a gentle smile, accepting the cup he offered hastily after polishing off his first round of punch.
"Yeah, you're right. The twins have tried it too, haven't they? And we didn't get upset about it then." Ron figited with his empty glass.
"Of course not. That sort of thing is too silly to get worked up about." She wanted to deny that she had been upset by Bill's teasing, either, but if it made Ron feel better to think that, she would allow him to think so.
"But if I really asked you, you'd say yes, right?" Ron's face had a certain desperate, hangdog expression. Hermione barely kept herself from spitting the punch back out of her mouth.
"If you really asked me what?" she said, setting the half-finished punch glass carefully on the table. Tenatively, Ron followed her example.
"You know, to – to get married," he answered sheepishly, pulling at the collar of his robes. "Not right away, of course. I'm not even asking formally right now. I – I left the ring back in the car, you know." Ron scratched at the base of his neck, pointing vaugely in the direction of the flying Ford Angelina.
Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she was desperately glad that she had set down her punch. "Ronald Billius Weasley! You didn't!"
"Er, I did, actually. You're not mad, are you? 'Cause Harry's too busy dancing with my little sister to talk with us if you're not speaking to me right now." Ron glanced rather desperately towards the dance floor, where the bridal couple had just finished their initial dances.
Hermione could not help but smile at his expression. "How would we ever get along without Harry? No. No, I'm not mad, Ron." She stepped into his arms, kissing him lightly. He sighed longingly as she released his lips.
"I was thinking, after we finish this next task, you know? Once we've seen Harry through and You-Know-Who is dead, then maybe next summer, once we're of age?" he explained. Hermione laughed, shaking her head.
"Ron, I'm Muggleborn. That means that even if I'd be considered an adult by wizarding standards next year, I still have two years before my parents would consider me full-grown. And even then, there's so much left to do. It's not that I wouldn't like to spend my life with you, but who knows what might happen between then and now?" She reached to touch his cheek, but Ron refused to look her in the eye.
"Who knows, indeed?" he whispered in response. "That's why I'm asking you now, Hermione." Without either of them realizing it, their loose embrace had turned into a dance. Ron manuveured them to the floor, guiding her around other couples as they carried on the conversation.
"You don't know that we'd even feel the same after the war. What if once you're a big hero and Madame Rosemerta smiles at you you decide you'd rather find some pretty creature who won't correct you all the time? What if Krum came back to Britain?" Hermione questioned.
Ron bent and kissed her on the nose. "I'd have to fight him. I'd probably get my teeth knocked out, but I'd give as good as I get. I've found my 'pretty creature,' and you don't correct me all the time. Sometimes you're busy correcting Harry." That got a smile out of her.
"What if I started calling you Won-won?" Ron pretended to consider her question a minute.
"Harry would have to move in with us," he decided at last. "But I still wouldn't give you up."
"I'm not changing my answer, you know," she stated conversationally.
Ron's head shot up guiltily. "You gave me one? Really?"
"Well, not officially, since you never officially asked me. But the informal answer is no, not right now, Ron."
"I never expected now, Hermione," Ron said. "I'm willing to wait."