Asking Her Hand
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Hey guys! Once again, this is an entry in a competitive forum. My topics were:
Write about your character(s) taking a first step towards something
9) (word) Present
12) (feeling) Lonely
And the captains got to pick our topic, so here comes a…. ROMIONE! Ugh, not my favorite. I prefer a Dramione. Anyways, here you go.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, only the plot.
Asking Her Hand
It has been five years since the Blood War ended; five years since the Boy who Lived became the Boy who Conquered. And, five years since Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley started dating.
And now, Ron believed that they were ready for the next step.
"How am I supposed to do it?" he yelled irritably at his best friend Harry, whose house he was currently invading. Ron paced anxiously around the living room, wearing holes in the carpet of Grimmauld Place. Harry sat, looking amusedly at his oldest friend from the comfort and relative safety of the couch. You never knew when Ron was going to start flailing his arms, he reasoned.
He waited patiently while Ron continued to rant. "I mean, I just can't waltz up to her and ask 'Will you marry me?' It would be completely tactless!"
Harry smiled. "She's already starting to rub off on you, mate."
"Hermione deserves something more. She deserves something special, something unique!" Ron nearly screamed out of frustration. Harry decided it was time to let the torture end, both his sake and the sake of his new Great Horned owl, Godric, who looked to be extremely stressed about the raised noise level.
"I agree with you. I think I know one thing Hermione would love. In the Wizarding world, do men ask the father of the bride for his daughter's hand in marriage first?" Harry asked. He knew that Hermione, while thoroughly buried in the Wizarding world, still loved some Muggle traditions.
Ron stopped his pacing puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Harry smiled to himself; so he didn't know. That would make it all the more special to Hermione. "In the Muggle world, when a man wants to marry a woman, he goes and asks her father for permission first. Although, a lot of people have stopped doing it lately…" He trailed off, pondering, then shook himself from his thoughts. "I know Hermione would love it, though."
Ron paled. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Wha?" he mumbled.
"It's a way of asking a man to give up his greatest treasure: his little girl." Harry hummed, wondering whether he should ask Mr. Weasley for Ginny's hand.
Ron now resembled something of a candy cane, with white skin occasionally garnished with splotches of red and, of course, his Weasley hair. "How am I supposed to do that? I've only met the man once, Harry, and that was at the funeral. I'm not sure he'll be fond of me!"
Harry shrugged. "Just go and ask him. And do it now."
All of Ron turned bright red. "Now! Why now?"
Harry shrugged again. "No time like the present. The more you wait, the more you'll lose your nerve."
"I've already lost my nerve!" Ron screamed. Harry looked at him coolly, waiting for him to calm slightly.
When Ron was calm enough that Harry was no longer in danger, Harry said cheekily, "See? Then you have nothing to worry about!"
From the look on Ron's face, Harry was suddenly glad that Ron's wand was on the table and not in his hand.
The time for teasing had passed. Harry stood and put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder. "Ron, if you keep putting it off, then you are never going to do it. Do you want Hermione to be happy?" He nodded.
"Do you want to make her feel special?" Again a nod.
"Do you want to show her just how much you care?" He gulped, and nodded once more.
"Then suck up your manhood and go and ask her father one simple question!" Ron seemed startled by Harry's sudden outburst. Harry pushed him to the door. "After all, they call now the present for a reason. It's a gift!
"Now, go and use your gift! No exchanges or refunds allowed!" Harry pushed his friend fully out the door, conveniently forgetting to hand him his wand.
You don't want an armed Ron if things turn sour, he reasoned.
~oOo~
Francis Granger stood staring blankly at the one picture on the wall. It was a family portrait, the last one they had ever taken.
His wife, Jean, stood grinning by his side. She was always happy, he remembered wistfully. Always smiling and laughing and joking, right up until the minute the cancer took her.
His daughter, Hermione Jean, sat on a chair between Francis and his wife. She was smiling as well, with that ever-present intelligent gleam in her eye. Francis smiled shakily as he noticed her wand sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. She used to visit so often, until her mother died.
And then there was Francis himself. He stood grinning, a hand on a shoulder of each of the most brilliant women in his life. He looked as if he couldn't be happier.
As if he didn't have a care in the world.
Francis turned away, unable to bear looking at the happy picture any longer. How quickly things change, he thought.
Starting to walk, he ambled throughout the silent house. It had lost more and more of its personality as it lost its occupants. Now all that remained were faint memories of days gone by, like a ghost of years past.
With a slight creak, he walked into Hermione's old room. It's faded old walls seemed to smile faintly at him. The room had been the same pastel purple for as long as Francis could imagine. Walking up to Hermione's neatly made bed, he gently picked up her old stuffed bear, George, and carefully fingered his delicate ears, held on by a thread. Francis allowed a small smile, remembering the time that Hermione had tossed him off the roof with a bag tied to his arms, yelling, "Fly George, fly!"
Gently, he set the bear down and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. The whole house was silent.
Francis had never felt more alone.
Gingerly, he started walking to the living room, thinking that maybe a good book would shake him out of his sentimental mood. His feeling of nostalgia was interrupted, however, by a knock at the door. Quickly, Francis went to open it. He was startled by the shock of red hair that greeted him.
"Erm, hello, Ron?" He thought that was the boy's name, but he wasn't completely sure.
"Hello sir. I was wondering if I could talk to you?" The boy looked around nervously.
"Um… sure." Francis opened the door fully and the boy walked in, nodding his thanks. Francis led him to the living room, wondering what on the boy wanted to talk about. They both sat down, Ron on the couch and Francis on the chair facing him. "So, what did you want to talk about?" he questioned.
Ron seemed to gulp. "Sir…" he paused, as if not sure how to continue.
"Yes?" Francis prompted.
The young man turned a bright red, which clashed horribly with his hair. "IwouldlikeyourpermissiontoaskHermionetomarryme," he stuttered out.
Francis raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
Ron took a final deep breath before stating slowly, "I would like you permission to ask Hermione to marry me."
Francis sat back, shocked. He had only met this man once, yet he wanted to marry his daughter! This man would take his daughter away from him once and for all!
Francis took a deep breath, calming himself down. He just needed to focus. Francis surveyed the young man before him. He looked honest. And he had the determination to come and ask Francis's permission first.
Francis stole himself for what he was about to do. He couldn't let his personal loneliness ruin his daughter's life. "Tell me, Ron, do you love my daughter?"
The young man nodded enthusiastically. "Yes sir, with all my heart."
"And how do you know that?"
For the first time, Ron looked him square in the eye. "At the Yule Ball in our fourth year, Hermione wore a beautiful, flowing dress and had her hair tamed from her normal curls into a sleek up-do. You ask me how I know sir. I know that I love her because I can still remember exactly what she was wearing the first time I noticed her. Your daughter is amazing, sir. I know that I don't deserve her. I can't think of anyone that deserves her. But I will dedicate my whole life to trying to deserve her, no matter how much I have to change.
"I love you daughter more than myself, sir."
Francis nodded. This boy truly did love his little Mya. "I happen know that Hermione has always dreamed of being taken to a private little corner of nature, like a waterfall or a garden, after a nice dinner. That place would be little with gently, multicolored lanterns, making it look like a scene from a Midsummer's Night Dream, with the man she loves kneeling before her and proclaiming his love for her."
Ron looked flabbergasted. "Sir, does this mean…? And how do you know…?"
Francis felt a true grin rise to his face. "Yes it does, Ron. You have my permission. And I overhead Hermione and her mother having girl talk a few years back."
Rising to his feet, Ron reached out and started pumping Francis' arm up and down. "Thank you, sir!"
Francis chuckled. All feelings of loneliness left him. "Well, get going, son! You need to prepare! No time like the present!"
"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?" Ron mumbled. He walked quickly out the door. "Thank you, sir!"
Something else occurred to Francis. "Oh, and Ron? I happen to know that Hermione loves sapphires!"
At the answering call, Francis smiled, truly happy for his little Mya.
And so, when two days later, Hermione burst into the house sporting a sapphire ring on her finger, Francis only smiled.
So, did you like it? I don't think that it's my best, but then again, it is a Romione… ;)
Tell me what you think! Love y'all!
~Boogalee