A/N: hey here is another one!! Two updates in one day, because I'm just that cool!

"Ron," Hermione screamed up the stairs of their small, cramped and downright ugly flat. They could not afford anything else so both participants of the relationship were working their butts off to get out of this dump as soon as possible.

"Yes, honey." Ron called back guiltily. Hermione's voice held that tone, that slight edge of screeching that Ron knew so well, when he heard that it was best to run for cover, but she had him cornered. What was he going to do? Face the music.

"Get. Down. Here. Right. Now."

"In a minute," he yelled, praying to God that she would take some cooling off time, before she made good on her threats to rip his head off.

No such luck. "Now!" Hermione yelled violently and in the bedroom farthest away from Hermione, Ron could almost see the violent expression on Hermione's face.

"Coming." He yelled back as he sprinted down the stairs.

"What. Is. This?" When Hermione was angry she tended to speak very slowly, you could almost hear her teeth clenching and grinding against each other.

"Um," Ron shrugged, at a loss for words. He thought they had been going well, no arguments for three whole days. No. Apparently that was the calm before the storm

Calmly she said, "You know who I ran into at Flourish and Botts today?"

"No." Ron answered hesitantly.

"Parvati Patil and her husband Dean Thomas." Hermione still souned remotely calm and that was what was making Ron so damn nervous. "Dean was going off to some Quidditch match that Parvati didn't want to go to, so I invited her back here so we could catch up." Hermione sighed in mock happiness. "Imagine my surprise when I bring her in and the walls are plastered with some sort of green gloop and our house looks like a troll went on a rampage and snotted all over the walls"

"Me and Harry and George were testing out products for the shop." Ron defended himself indignantly.

"I don't care what you were doing," Hermione replied in a dangerously low voice. "Parvati left after five minutes of me making her a cup of tea because of the state out house was in. It is an absolute pigsty! She rushed out of here like she thought the mess monster was going to eat her up."

"Maybe she didn't like the way you make tea? Because sometimes, I find that you-" Ron suggested weakly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ronald!" Hermione cut him off, screeching a blood curdling scream.

"Sorry," the large Ron raised his hands for protection as the slight Hermione advanced on him.

"You. Are. Sorry." She stated bluntly

"Yeah?" Ron tried.

"Sorry doesn't cut the mustard." She yelled. "I want you to clean all this disgusting foul mess off the walls and pack up all of your other crap that is lying around."

"But-" Ron protested.

"No buts," Hermione snapped. "I want all of this useless junk gone by dinner time."

"Hey," Ron yelled. "This is my career that you are calling junk."

"Big. Fat. Hairy. Deal." Hermione said in a low voice. She stalked out of the room and Ron sighed and got to work.

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Ron was crouched down behind the couch cleaning the goo off the skirting boards, how on earth did it get here? He thought to himself as he worked.

"Done yet?" Hermione yelled from the kitchen.

"Leave me alone you bloody-" Ron stopped at that, not wanting any trouble.

"What did you call me?" She asked, her eyes glittering dangerously as she rounded the corner that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"Nothing." Ron said innocently.

"It's a wonder I don't just pack up and leave!" she screamed hysterically. "I'm not appreciated at all."

"Do it then," Ron taunted. "You don't have the guts."

"I would," Hermione screamed. "But you'd die without me."

Ten minutes later they collapsed on the couch exhausted from their afternoon long argument. Into the silence, unexpectedly, decisively and in her best no-nonsense tone, Hermione said, "Marry me."

Ron reached over, took her tiny hand in his large palm and sighed, "Okay."

Review please! What do you think??? Should I keep going???