"Ron, we need to talk," she said, glancing around the room of the fancy restaurant he had taken her to. She had wanted to stay in, but he had insisted. Nonetheless, she was resolute- she was going to break up with him tonight.
"You're right, we do need to talk," he responded, a nervous grin on his face. "But first, I have to do this." He stood, walked around the table and knelt in front of her, pulling a small box from the pocket of his robes. She sat there, aghast, as all present turned their heads, noticing the about-to-be proposal between two-thirds of the so-called "Golden Trio."
"Ron, please don't do this! Let's go back to your flat and talk!" she quietly pleaded, her words falling on deaf ears.
He continued what he was doing, focusing on not fumbling the box. He opened it, showing a stone that was much larger than she knew he could afford. "Hermione," he started, his voice wobbling slightly, "I am not as good with words as you are, so let me say this plainly. I have loved you longer than even I knew, and I will continue loving you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, and share that life with me?"
Others through the restaurant were smiling, women wiping their tears, men looking on interestedly, all in anticipation for her answer so they could tell all of their friends how they had been present when the great Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had gotten engaged, but Ron only had eyes for her.
Tears were streaming down her face, and contrary to the assumption of all, they were not happy tears. "Ron... I… I… I can't!" she stuttered, not giving any explanation as she grabbed her purse and ran from the building, down Diagon Alley, through the Leaky Cauldron, and into Muggle London where she hailed a cab, attracting the attention of all she passed. The scene she created was to be the front page of the next day's Daily Prophet, complete with pictures of her running past the shops, her make-up streaked and her long dress streaming behind her.
Even if she had been in a proper emotional state, which she was not, she was in no physical state to Apparate- it could hurt the baby that was growing inside of her, which she had only learned of the day before. Not even thinking of Flooing from a public place, she gave the cabbie the address of her destination.
The ride took nearly fifteen minutes through London traffic, and in that time, she was able to collect her bearings and clean her face, even if each of those things were not fully accomplished. Upon arriving at her home, a townhouse in a Muggle neighborhood, she paid the man behind the wheel, got out of the car, squared her shoulders, and walked up to the front door.
The door opened, showing the backlit silhouette of the man she loved- the man she knew to be the father of her child. "How did it go?" he asked, fully taking in her appearance and reaching out to take her in his arms.
"I didn't get the chance to tell him," she responded with a sniffle, as she buried her head in his strong chest and breathed in his scent before looking up into his eyes. "Instead, he asked me to marry him. I said no, and I ran. I was such a coward, but he took me to a fancy restaurant, and everyone was looking. I couldn't think of what to do!" she sobbed anew.
Bill Weasley picked her up in his arms to carry her into her home, his wedding ring glinting on his hand under the street light. He closed the door behind him and cooed softly in her ear that everything would be alright, trying to soothe her with words they both knew to be nothing more than pretty lies.