So I love Ron/Hermione together (thank you JK!) so I thought I'd try my hand at writing their proposal. I started this ages ago, but only just started writing it again, so I apologise if things are a little disjointed. I had planned on it being more chaotic, but alas, it did not go as planned. Although I'd like to think the lead up on the wedding day would be a little disastrous lol. I've role-played in the wizarding world before, but I've never written cannon, so I dunno how well this went. I think I made Harry joke a little too much, oh well, enough rambling!
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or the wonderful world JK created. Although I'd like to live in it :)
"I'm going to propose!"
The memory of both Ron and Hermione expressing their intent played across Harry's mind as he sat in his study, reflecting the past two days. Ginny had taken off the previous afternoon after the Captain of the Holyhead Harpies had owled an urgent request for all team members to attend an intensive training program after leaked reports of the Wimbourne Wasps' new improved strategy reached her ears. So now she'd be gone a week, at least, and Harry was left to deal with not one, but two young lovers turning to him for advice in their desperate bid for the perfect marriage proposal.
Why they were both suddenly in a rush to do this now, Harry had asked the very same question to both of them and received identical answers. It was August 29th and the day the pair met for the very first time was fast approaching. September 1st, on the Hogwarts express, and they had both had the idea of proposing to each other. Ron had come to Harry first, the previous day, excited and delighted with his ingenious planning.
Then, just this morning, Hermione apparated to his doorstep in a rush, searching for Ginny only to learn, to her dismay, that she was gone. Panicking, she then told Harry of her desires and he had to bite down rather forcefully onto his tongue to stop himself from telling her Ron had the very same idea.
What was going to unfold on the first day of September, he had no idea. How he was going to help them, he had no idea on that either. All he knew was tomorrow he had to meet up with the both of them and to him, time was moving dreadfully fast.
Next day
"Right. So, we um... I get down on one knee." Ron knelt before Harry, his eyes slowly gazing toward Harry's hand.
"You want us to hold hands too?" Harry mused, willing himself not to laugh.
Scratching his chin, Ron's ears began to turn an ever so light shade of red. "Well, maybe we can skip that part and just pretend we did." he cleared his throat and looked up at Harry.
"Hermione... I really like you-"
"You only like me?" Interrupted Harry. "I'd have thought we were on the 'I love you' stage, Ron. Considering you're about to propose."
"Shut it, Harry!" Ron's face growing red as he kicked at Harry with his free foot. "It'd help if you looked more like Hermione. Ginny might think you're handsome, but you're no Lockhart."
"Did you really just say that?" snorted Harry, watching as Ron's face now reached the colour of beetroot. "You think old Lockhart was cute too? Yeah, you and Hermione are definitely suited for one another."
"You owe me! I helped you when you were about to ask Ginny to marry you. I gave you my blessing." he added warningly, as if at any moment he could revoke Harry's claim on his sister.
Raising his eyebrows, Harry said, "Your blessing? I was under the impression your father gave me the blessing. And you didn't help me, you suggested I hide the engagement ring inside Buckbeak's mouth and make Ginny stick her hand in there."
"Yeah, well it symbolises bravery and an adventurous relationship!"
"If adventurous is having my then girlfriends arm bitten off, I think I'll pass thanks."
Ron rolled his eyes, rising off the floor and slumping into a nearby armchair. "You've got to help me, mate. I need this to be perfect. I can't screw it up."
The pleading look on Ron's face made Harry sigh and he too, slumped into the armchair beside him. "Okay, let's throw some ideas around then. You could propose to her in the Ministry of Magic during work... have an audience, everyone applauds. Provided she says yes... which of course she will" he added hastily.
"Nah, I don't want to do it in front of a crowd. I'll have ten times the higher risk of screwing up. What about the Hogwarts express?" he pondered, sitting up excitedly as the idea came to him.
"Yeah! We first met on the train. If I could pull some strings, we could hop on September 1st; I could climb up on the top of the moving train. She fears for my life, begs with me to get down. Then up she comes, trying to save me and I propose! How's that for adventure, danger and bravery in one?"
Harry shook his head and resisted the urge to laugh, mainly because Ron sounded so genuine. "So you're going to risk both yours and Hermione's life on top of a speeding train, in front of hundreds of kids 17 and under, giggling and jeering, then probably being beaten to death by a stricken Hermione unless of course you don't fall off the train beforehand. Sounds like a great plan, I hope you live to see your wedding day."
Ron grimaced and folded his arms across his chest. "Fine. No train then. What else?"
They both kept coming up with ideas and schemes, each time having the other shoot it down until they were now at the stage where craziness was a staple, dreaming up the most ridiculous plots.
"Have a group of merepeople sing the chorus to one of Celestia Warwicks songs while I emerge from the water on top of the giant squid." Ron rose from his chair, imagining himself rising from the lake at Hogwarts.
"You could enchant a giant book to propose to her. She might be more inclined to say yes to it than you" Harry joked - Ron leaning over to punch him in the arm.
"I could take her to Romania, battle a fierce dragon, finish it off by transfiguring it into an engagement ring and pop the question."
"You seem to be under the impression that you'll win against a ferocious, fire-breathing dragon." Harry quipped.
Ron ignored this. "What about a poem?" he thought aloud, staring off into space for a moment as inspiration burst to mind.
"Oh Hermione, Hermione,
You're oh so fine-ee
Your hair is like is a bushy tree,
Let's get married, then do 'it' times three!" he looked over at Harry, pure delight shining from his face. "How's that?"
Harry stared at him for a moment before refusing to dignify it with a response. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel about her, take her on a romantic dinner or something."
"That's boring," Ron shrugged, picking at a stray piece of cotton on the worn armchair. "It's got to be remembered, something memorable. Everyone does romantic dinners."
They both lapsed into thoughtful silence for a few minutes, the definite sound of the cogs working over in their brains the only thing piercing the stillness. Ron chanced a sideways glance at Harry before quickly taking his chance:
"You make my heart explode like an erumpant horn
The place where our special love was born-"
"Your love was born in an erumpant horn?" Harry questioned, unable to suppress the grin forming on his face. Ron, however, frustrated at being cut off mid-poem, frowned at him.
"No! From our heart, you dung-brain. Now shut up, I want to finish it." he cleared his throat and began again.
"You make my heart explode like an erumpant horn
The place where our special love was born" - he shot Harry a glare -
"So I ask now, will you marry me?
Our babies will look better than mandrakes, I can guarantee!"
He finished with a slightly smug look etched up his freckled face, folding his arms across his chest and awaiting Harry's response. Sure as he was, that this poem would achieve a much more enthusiastic response than his last.
Harry simply stared at him, trying with all his will not to burst out laughing. "Are you serious, Ron?", he asked, but seeing his best friends face fall, Harry cleared his throat, swallowing the laughter. "Just... no poems, okay? It's for your own good."
Ron mumbled something inaudible under his breath, slouching in his chair as they lapsed into silence again.
"I could fake an arrest," Ron suggested, five minutes later. "Get the Ministry to arrest her for a stupid thing... attempted murder on a goblin by means of poisoned Canary Creams while heavily under the influence of Butterbeer, they start to drag her off to Azkaban and the hero, that's me" he indicated, jabbing at his chest. "Apparates onto the scene, shoves the ministry officials out the way, blasts her out of chains and proposes!"
"I think charging her for break and entering into a high level security vault at Gringotts, theft and releasing a dangerous magical creature, more commonly known as a dragon, would be more elegant." Harry laughed, remembering back to journey for horcruxes in what would have been their 7th year at Hogwarts.
"Ah, memories," Ron said fondly. "I wonder whatever happened to that dragon, they never reported finding it. Maybe Hagrid found it and has kept it in hiding ever since."
"Wouldn't surprise me, although the fact that he's still alive and breathing kind of dampens that theory."
"Anyway," Ron sat up a little straighter. "We're supposed to be planning. Listen to this one!" his face lit up again, since he had finally perfected this little beauty in his mind.
"I could smash you in the face with a dangerous bludger
And still you'd be more beautiful than old Filch or Fudge...er
Even if your cheeks were covered in pulsating boils
I'd still want to marry you and forever be loyal"
Silence elapsed for a moment. "Wow," Harry stared him dumbfounded, unable to quite express the words fit to describe Ron's latest attempt at expressing his love.
Rather than looking crestfallen for the third time, Ron's face suddenly illuminated to the high heavens, mistaking Harry's words. "Serious? I knew you'd like it! It's a good one, yeah? It shows how much I love her and I'd stay with her no matter what. Think I should use it?"
Harry closed his eyes for a second, wishing with all his might that Ginny would suddenly appear before him, whisk him away from the disaster zone of a mind sitting before him.
"Ron, mate, I'm going to be brutally honest here. You really suck at writing poems. If you try and say that in front of Hermione, I think we'll be testing that theory in reverse when you're sprouting boils and have a bludger smashed into your face."
Ron's ears started to grow red once again as he absently scratched at the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, "I guess it might be a bit insensitive. But it's true... that she's beautiful no matter.. and I'd always be loyal.... there's no one like her ..." he trailed off, leaning forward in his chair and burying his head in his hands.
"This is pointless, Harry!" he groaned desperately, his voice slightly muffled. "I'm useless. Why would she want to spend forever with me? I can't even get the stupid proposal right. Should just give it up now, save me he embarrassment later-"
"No, Ron," Harry cut in, leaning forward to put a hand on his friends shoulder. "You and Hermione are meant for each other. You love her and she loves you, that's all there is to it. You're making this proposal into a bigger deal than what it is. You're not giving up."
After bringing out some butterbeer and spending half an hour taking a break from marriage talk, Ron had considerably brightened up. And so they then spent the remainder of the afternoon coming up with feeble, though mostly stupid brainwaves and only cut it short when Harry insisted he had to leave due to the amount of paperwork he had building up from work.
Really though, he had promised to meet up with Hermione at his house and discuss options.
With a loud crack, Harry apparated into his kitchen, wearily sighing to himself. Before he had time to turn around though, a familiar voice reached his ears.
"I've been waiting for ten minutes, you know." she said in a slightly huffy tone. Hermione Granger stood up from the kitchen chair she had been occupying.
Harry frowned at her, annoyed. "It's rude to apparate directly into peoples houses you know, not to mention against the law."
"Yes, well considering it's rather overcast outside I didn't think you would mind if I came in. Besides, your anti-burglary charms really need updating, Harry."
Muttering something inaudible under his breath, he sat down in the chair opposite to where she had previously sat and waved his wand toward the fridge. A second later, two cups of steaming hot chocolate delicately sat themselves before them.
"So, to what does this day bring us, oh lovesick one?" he grinned up at her.
Hermione glared at him, sitting down again and cupping her hands around the hot mug. "Don't test my nerves today, Harry. I just need someone to give me constructive feedback and advice. Considering you know Ron so well, you should be of help."
"Hermione," Harry began, mentally trying to organise his thoughts before he spoke, fearing if he didn't, he'd blurt out Ron's intentions. "Why do you want to propose to him anyway? Normally it's the man who does the asking..." he trailed off after being subjected to her stern gaze.
"So just because I'm a girl, that means I can't ask the man I love to marry me? You think a girl is beneath that, that her rightful place is to be quiet and wait for the man to take action? That the man is above the woman, that she should-"
"That's not what I meant!" he interrupted, her voice had grown steadily more angrier. "I don't think girls are beneath men and I'm a little hurt you think that's how I think."
She recomposed herself and took a sip of her drink. "I'm sorry. I just don't see why it should be a big deal. I want to spend the rest of my life with Ron and I've finally built the courage to take the first step, since he's not planning to do so himself." she added airily, placing her mug back down, the amused smirk playing across Harry's face went unnoticed.
"So I'm warning you, if you dare breathe a word of this to Ron..." she gave him her most threatening glare.
"What? You'll give the glare of death and I go poof?" he joked, but quickly decided to cover his tracks for her expression had not changed. "Come on, would I?"
"You better not. Remember that sneak Marietta in our fifth year? I'll make you wish it's your face covered in them rather than your-"
"Alright, alright!" Harry interrupted her, holding securely onto his wand in his pocket for protective reasons. "I said I wouldn't. I'll keep my mouth shut up, just keep your jinxes to yourself."
Hermione seemed satisfied with his response, as her face now relaxed and she pulled out a thick folder from her bag. "So," she began, placing it on the table and opening to a page covered in faint pink roses and elegant script. "I've been going through books and reading accounts of woman, both witches and muggles, who have taken initiative and proposed to their partners."
Harry raised an eyebrow, was there ever an occasion when Hermione did not turn to the books for help? " I thought it was supposed to come from your heart, not reusing someone else's ideas."
She glanced up at him. "I'm not stealing other peoples ideas, I just want to get a feel for the different paths that I can take. Some woman get down on one knee, but I'm not sure I like the idea of getting on my knees for any man. It feels a little degrading." she informed him, turning the page, a small frown creasing across her forehead as she read.
Harry just sat there, mildly amused. While Ron sat dreaming up ridiculous ways in which to propose, she, in typical Hermione fashion, had instantly turned to the books to aid her through this expression of love and commitment. They were a mismatched couple, but that, he thought, was probably what made them work so well.
"Aren't you going to help me?" she frowned at him, drawing her gaze away from the pages. "I didn't tell you just to confide in you. I told you because I want to make this perfect, so I need another's insight. It would be so much easier if Ginny were here." she sighed, pausing for a moment before shutting the cover of her folder.
"Well, what exactly do you want me to do? Pretend to be Ron while you practice your speech? Look lovingly into your eyes while you take 'intiative' in a 'non-degrading' manner?" he questioned her innocently.
"Stop making this into a joke!" she hissed at him, pulling out her wand and threateningly placed it on the table in front of her. "Yes, I need you to pretend to be Ron. I need to get this right, so stop being so insensitive, would you?"
Harry, realising that Hermione was clearly in no mood for jokes or wisecracks, decided to keep them to himself. Keeping a cautious eye on her wand, he stood up and raised his hands up in the air. "Fine. I'm all yours."
Following his lead, she too stood up, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I can do this. You're Ron. I'm in love with you. I want to marry you. Right," she nodded to herself, raising her chin and staring Harry directly in the eye.
"Ronald Weasley, it has been five years since we have embarked upon our journey of love. In that time I have..... I have grown to... It has come to my attention that it's time we...oh no, oh no, oh no!" Her faced turned into one of despair as she looked desperately into those green eyes. "It's all wrong. You're not Ron! I'm not feeling it when I look at you, I need to feel it, Harry!"
Harry couldn't respond, mainly due to the fact that Hermione's face was now resembling a similar expression to that of a once constipated Percy after George had 'accidentally' slipped some U-NO-POO into his evening cup of tea. Shaking off the urge to laugh at such a despairing moment in his friend's day, he tried to place a consoling hand on her shoulder.
"Listen, I may not have the red hair and freckles that you so lovingly adore, but I'm here for support. I know you can do this, you just need to calm yourself, pluck up the courage and let it flow." he tried to soothe her, which appeared to have worked relatively well, for her face had relaxed a little and Harry was now certain that George hadn't tainted his milk or hot chocolate.
"I'm just nervous," she admitted, a troubled sigh escaping her lips. "This is a big moment and I don't want to mess anything up. I only get one chance to do this and I want to do it justice."
"And you will, you'll get everything right, Hermione. Have a little faith in yourself. Now come on, let's try again."
Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded and stared deep into Harry's eyes. "From the moment we met... well no, actually. We didn't really get along very well when we first met did we? That won't work. From the moment you saved my life from an out of control Troll, I realised... no I didn't!" she cried out, the constipation-look of despair had returned, Harry noticed.
"It just developed over time. And didn't reach its pinnacle until sixth year and then he began that ridiculously sickening relationship with Lavender Brown. Oh don't get me started-" she broke off, clearly not wanting to think so far back into those hurtful times.
"Yeah, let's not go there," Harry suggested, fearing an outburst or perhaps even tears. "That happened ages ago, you're the one he loves now. Just think about all the good times you guys have had together and why it's worth it, you'll be fine."
And so she began practicing her 'speech', while Harry silently endured the task of listening over and over again why Ron was so wonderful, why Ron was so amazing, why Ron deserved every ounce of love she could offer him and more. As the day wore on, Harry was amazed that such Hermione was capable of such sappy and mushy declarations, but hoping with all his might that a bottle of Firewhiskey would assist him in forgetting the details later on.
However, Hermione's burst of ideas had not lasted long. She was now chiding Harry for the simplest of things and getting more and more frustrated by the minute when nothing sounded right. They had since moved into the living room, but clearly the change of setting had not helped matters.
"No, no, no! I told you not to say anything, you have to wait until I'm finished talking!" Hermione shrieked at Harry, stomping down her left foot, her face manic, her hair getting frizzier and bushier by the minute due to her constant pulling and ruffling at it in frustration.
"But you said-" Harry began, exasperated.
"Be quiet!" she said at once. Taking a calming breath, Hermione began pacing back and forth. "Ronald.... Ron.... there is no other man... no, there is no other wizard..." she began, trailing off, a look of deep thought etched across her face.
"Hermione-"
"Just sit down, Harry. Please be quiet for a moment, I'm thinking."
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He sat down on one of the cushions on the floor.
After a moment Hermione glanced back at Harry, frowning deeply. "No!" she cried at him, a note of hysteria in her voice. "Why are you sitting!? Stand up, Harry, stand up! I'm the one proposing to Ron, you shouldn't be kneeling!"
"I wasn't kneeling!" he yelled out defensively.
"You were! And I told you, no kneeling. It's degrading, Harry. Just do as I say, please, or this is not going to work!" Hermione snapped at him. She began her pacing again, muttering under her breath, her hands wringing together at various troublesome thoughts. She pulled out her wand and began tapping it nervously against her palms.
Harry grudgingly stood up. He was getting tired of being the guinea pig, stuck in between Ron and Hermione's quest for the perfect proposal. He thought perhaps it would be wise to inform at least one of them that the other was intending on proposing aswell, but he wasn't too keen on the explosion that surely followed if he was found out.
If he told Hermione, Ron would never forgive him for ruining the surprise and possibly one of the biggest moments in his life. If he told Ron, he would more than likely burst out in a number of unpleasant hives, in very unpleasant places before he could finish the sentence.
And if he didn't tell either, they'd both kill him. Suddenly, Harry wished Ginny were here aswell. At least he'd have someone on his side for support. Hermione was beginning to remind him of herself during their school years, her manic, slightly psychotic air of hysteria she usually displayed during the lead up to exams as beginning to shine through. How wonderful it was that some things never changed, he thought wearily.
He let a sigh escape his lips, a move highly recommended against seeing as Hermione had her wand in hand. Jerking her head toward Harry, deep frustration boiling over that he had interrupted her train of thought again, sparks flew from the tip of her wand, singeing the sleeve of Harry's shirt.
"Watch it!" he cried out, shaking his arm, a small wisp of smoke moving upwards. "I didn't do anything!"
"Oh Harry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she cried, raising her wand desperately as to wipe away any evidence that she had tortured the cuff of his sleeve.
"No!" he quickly said, taking a backwards step. "You keep that wand away from me until you've got your emotions in check, Hermione. It'd be nice to be alive to see your wedding you know, considering I've had to go through all of this."
Hermione quickly laid her wand to rest on a nearby coffee table and stared at him despairingly. "I'm sorry, I really am. Oh why is this so difficult? The stress feels worse than exams ever did."
She sank into an armchair and took a deep breath to steady herself. She hated feeling so out of control of her emotions; she liked to keep things in check, in order. Asking Ron to marry her felt like one of the most natural and fated decisions she could make, yet why was this turning out to be such a nerve-wracking and stressful moment?
"Hermione," Harry sighed, clearly exhausted from the days conversations with both of them. He sat in the armchair beside. "On September 1st, just walk up to him and say whatever comes from the heart. Don't worry about all the romantic planning and long thought out speeches. When I proposed to Ginny, I just said what was true, how I felt. It's better than stressing yourself out for days on end, just be yourself with him." he said, hoping that this might relax her. Hermione never did particularly well in the lead up to an important affair.
Letting out a long sigh, she nodded her head. "You're right, of course you're right, Harry. I just wanted to make this something special, but it won't be worth it if the future wife is having an anxiety attack and then starts throwing hexes at the groom-to-be when he doesn't respond in the way she had planned out." she allowed a smile to play across her lips
"Glad we've crossed that bridge before you turned Ron into something resembling a blast-ended skrewt." Harry said, to which they both laughed at.
"So where we were you before you came here?" Hermione asked.
"Uh..." Harry started, looking around the room for a moment to buy himself some thinking time. "I had a lead on a case I'm working on, just had to interview a suspect, he was pretty messed up, started reciting love poems to me. It's been a long day."
Reviews are very much appreciated! :)