Ron was in the Burrow visiting his family and trying to find inspiration for how he should propose to Hermione. The timing couldn't have been more perfect; they would have known each other for ten years next weekend and he was up for a promotion as Auror. He had bought a ring and asked permission from her father as was the muggle custom, now all that was left to do was find the perfect place to do it. He considered the Burrow, going on the Hogwarts Express where they had first met, the Chamber of Secrets where they'd shared their first kiss and countless others but none of them seemed right.
Giving up, he rummaged through his things to find ink and paper so he could write a letter to Harry and stumbled across an old chest that was currently being used as a sort of memory box. For old times sake he opened it, the box making a satisfying click, and peered inside. His old school robes, books, countless letters from Harry and Hermione and there, shoved down at the bottom of the chest, probably from shame, was the outfit he had worn for the Yule Ball. He hated himself for how he ruined what was supposed to be the best night of Hermione's life. Unfortunately, he couldn't take back all the things he'd done and said during the years he'd been an absolute prick, but he wished he could. Suddenly inspiration struck. He was going to recreate the Yule Ball for Hermione and make it the best night ever.
That night he wrote to McGonagall and told her everything. Soon enough her owl came back with a letter saying the Great Hall was his for next weekend to do with as he wished provided he cleared everything up afterwards. That was that job done. Next he sent some more letters to friends (Harry of course included) asking them to come to his recreation of the Yule Ball and possibly help set up. This was going to be perfect.
The Satureday morning, he woke up early. Hermione was still asleep, hair covering her face and her body sprawled across the bed. Not wanting to wake her, Ron went downstairs to make her usual breakfast. Feeling quite proud of himself he turned on the stove, it had taken him ages to learn how to use it, and started frying an array of bacon, eggs and hash browns and put the kettle on. It had just reached boiling point when a sleepy voice came from behind him.
"Morning Ron", murmured Hermione.
"Morning Hermione. Tea?", he offered.
"Yes please."
Ron poured the tea and gave Hermione a quick kiss before piling up the food onto their plates.
"You know I was thinking, we should visit Hogwarts, just for old times sake, and it'd be nice to see Neville and McGonagall again, it's been awhile."
"I suppose it has been a few years," Hermione laughed, "and I do want to know how Neville's coping as a professor. When were you thinking?"
"How about tonight? I've already asked and it's all been worked out, we could just go."
"Alright then, but it's very generous of Minerva to let us visit so make sure you write a long thank you letter, or send a gift of some sort."
"Hmm, yeah maybe a ball of yarn or something." Ron couldn't help himself. He wasn't about to forget his old professor's feline animagus abilities. It was all Hermione could do to roll her eyes.
By the time the clock struck noon they had made a pack lunch and boarded the Hogwarts Express. The old train brought back a plethora of memories that brought a smile to both of their faces. The things they'd done as children was crazy to say the least, flying cars, fighting dementors and defeating… Voldemort. That was not a happy memory. Ron still had nightmares about the awful events of The Battle For Hogwarts, screams that gave the ghosts a run for their money and the blood, so much blood. But worst of all was the people he'd lost: Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Lavender and for one awful minute, Harry. Ron didn't know what he would have done if-
A hand on his shoulder took him out the spiral of which he was descending rapidly.
"Ron, you're shaking. Were you thinking about it again?", Hermione's eyes were panic stricken.
"No, I'm fine Hermione", he tried to assure her.
"Ron please," her voice quivered, "please don't lie to me."
"Ok yes. Yes I was thinking about it. How could I not be? The Battle of Hogwarts shattered my family and took so many of my friends, our friends, and I don't need to tell you how worried George is that he may never be able to conjure a patronus again after…", Ron struggled to continue.
"…Fred." Hermione finished for him and shifted in her seat, "I don't pretend to know what you're going through Ron, but Harry, Ginny, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Minerva, the rest of your family, me, we're all here, and not going anywhere for a long, long time. Remember that."
Hermione wiped at the tears falling down Ron's face, soothing him with every touch. Her ability to motivate him, comfort him and make him feel like no one else could was truly powerful and Ron couldn't help but suspect that it had some sort of connection to her skill with magic. He wrapped his arms around her and they held each other in a silence that was not unpleasant and filled the long hours left of the journey.
As the sun set and the first stars were blinking into existence, the Hogwarts Express reached its destination with the shrieking of its breaks. Like all good things the train was getting old but somehow it still made Ron's heart race to jump off it after all this time, just like he was a student again. The two lovers took a threstral-drawn carriage and as they turned a corner, caught their first sight of the Hogwarts castle since at least a few years. As students, its grandeur had never failed to elude them, and it did not fail now. The astronomy tower pierced the night sky, the Black Forest swallowed the dark and in the distance Ron could see a cacophony of centaurs gallivanting under the twinkling stars. Hogwarts truly was a magical place.
When they arrived, Ron asked Hermione whether she'd be so kind as to find their rooms, unpack and meet him in the Great Hall in about an hour wearing the dress she wore for the Yule Ball which he had packed. To be fair, subtlety had never been his strong suit. There wasn't a moment to lose, this had to be an exact replication of the Yule Ball and that was no easy feat. Luckily his friends had already started on the decorations which was an encouraging start and the food was promising. An assortment of deliciously appetising flying pastries and cakes and a ginormous bowl of butter beer all made an appearance, just like the original ball and the Weird Sisters were currently setting up although truth be told, they had taken some persuading. Luckily, Ron had managed to bribe them with drink. Everything was going according to plan but there seemed to be something missing. Ron looked at his attire and immediately identified the problem. Crap! No one had changed into their robes or dresses and there was only five minutes left until his hour was up and Hermione would be down. Rushing, he quickly managed to get everyone into their outfits, charms and spells flying everywhere, and just in time too. Everyone turned to face Hermione as she entered the room who immediately turned the same colour as her pink dress.
"What's all this?" she asked, turning to face Ron, feelings of shock and amazement encompassing her.
"Let's just say," Ron took Hermione's hand in his, "you deserved a better Yule Ball than the one you got. I never apologised for being an arse that night, I was hoping I could make up for it by recreating the event. Well, partly anyway, unfortunately we couldn't get Viktor Krum and hopefully there won't be any heartbreak this time. Hermione I… I know I've done a lot of things wrong, especially during my teen years and all I can say is I'm sorry. I wish I could take back everything I did, or said. Is there any way you could forgive me?"
"You are a complete imbecile, Ronald Weasley." Hermione giggled, "A bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates would have been enough, you didn't need to do this! Nevertheless, I'm not going to complain, I'm actually impressed. I mean, you even got the Weird Sisters to get back together and perform again!"
"Well I did offer them free booze."
On that note, Ron quite literally swept Hermione off her feet, the music started and the sweet summer evening was filled with dancing… and food. Evening turned into night and it was long before anyone tired enough to leave or just sleep sprawled across the floor as Seamus was currently doing.
In the small hours of the morning, Hermione and Ron were finally alone. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. The ring sat in his robe pocket, weighing heavier with every minute.
"You know I think tonight you just about made up for all those times you were horrible to me." said Hermione.
Great! Exactly how he wanted this conversation to start.
"Well that was the point," he decided to reply, "and it's true that I have been horrible and don't deserve you in any way but I want you to know that I will spend my whole life trying to make up for it."
"Ron, you don't need to. It was a long time ago and you've changed a lot since then. For example, you've become a lot smarter, but I guess that's just what happens when you live with someone as clever as me. Seriously though, I never would have thought I'd catch you reading To Kill a Mockingbird."
Ron couldn't help but laugh at that. He remembered finding the book in Hermione's personal library and flicking open the first page. He'd found it difficult to keep with the story at first and didn't want Hermione to find out so he read in secret. It hadn't lasted long and eventually Hermione discovered his hiding place. When she'd seen the book her eyes lit up, burning with a passion that he'd never seen before and thus began the first of many animated literary conversations. The story wasn't so difficult to keep with after that.
"It's things like that," Hermione continued, "like planning a recreation of the Yule Ball just to take back one crappy night, that let me know you'd do anything for me and remind me just how much I love you."
"You really love me?" Ron asked sheepishly.
"I really do." replied Hermione.
"In that case," said Ron, getting down on one knee, "Hermione Jean Granger, would you do me the tremendous honour of becoming my wife?"
"Ron," Hermione smiled, "I thought you'd never ask."