New chappie :D. It turns out our hotel in Scotland has free wifi! So I finished it up. I'll update soon.

Ronald Weasley woke up with a ring on his finger. It was the first thing he noticed when he cracked open his eyes that morning. It was a pretty ring - a platinum one, a cluster of tiny emeralds surrounding the central drop-shaped diamond. But the ring looked very out of place on his large, calloused hand.

"What the-" he mumbled groggily as he raised his hand to his face, trying to examine the ring. His vision was blurred and it felt like there was a marching band playing inside his skull. He kept his hand up for about twenty seconds as he peered at the light metal band, before his eyes widened as he realized what it was. He bolted upright with a yelp.

A quick glance around told him he was alone in Hermione's room. So there was no one there to explain what he was doing in Hermione's bed with a giant rock on his little finger. Feeling slightly panicky, Ron looked back down at the ring and tried to slide it off. His efforts were in vain and the ring was undoubtedly stuck. It couldn't just be that it was too small for his finger, Ron figured.

"What. Kind. Of. Stupid. Git. Would charm. A ring. To stick. On. A finger," the readhead grunted with every tug on the delicate-looking silver band. With a groan, he gave up, and flopped back on the bed. His vision had cleared and he stared up at the pictured of Him, Harry and Hermione stuck on the latter's ceiling.

He scowled as he noticed the fourth face on the ceiling. Of course she put Malfoy up there. There was a picture of the two of them, right next to the snap of their trio. They were in formal clothes- she was in a beautiful red gown, while Malfoy was in a tux. The ferret had his arm around her shoulders, and was smirking infuriatingly at the camera. Hermione looked radiant, and was laughing about something Malfoy had said. The photo was taken on the day of their seventh year farewell- the same day Hermione had told Ron and Harry about her relationship with Malfoy.

He snarled at the moving picture, before pulling himself off the bed.

"Er-my-nee..." he called, stumbling through the apartment. "Where are you?"

He entered the living room and looked around. The house seemed to be pretty empty, except for...

Ron squinted as his blurry vision began to clear. Was that really...?

"Harry? Bloody hell mate, what are you doing on the dining table?"

His best friend looked up at him. He was curled up comfortably on the oak table top.

"Mornin' Ron," he groaned, sitting up and swinging his legs off the table. His dark messy hair was sticking up all over the place and was worse than usual, if that was even possible. He looked like he had received a mild shock and then been mauled by a bear. The chosen one patted around looking for his glasses, finally finding them in his front pocket. He slid them on and looked up at Ron.

"What the-"

Ron stared as Harry broke off, dissolving into muffled sniggers.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Um... " Harry looked up at Ron, laughter in his green eyes, "You should take a look in the mirror, Ron. Or should I say, Harry?"

The redhead gave his best friend a dubious look before marching across the living room to an ornate bronze-framed mirror that hung near the window. One look in it cleared up his doubts about his best friend's sanity.

A rather exaggerated version of Harry's lightning scar and round frame glasses were graffitied on his face in what appeared to be black sharpie.

Harry laughed even harder as Ron gaped at his reflection, his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish.

"What in Godric's name happened last night?" he cried, as he rubbed his hand frantically over the 'scar', attempting to make it go away. To be honest, the whole of last night was a blank...

"You're only making it worse mate." said Harry, grinning at Ron - who had managed to smudge the black ink all over his face, "We have wands for a reason. Here, let me."

Ron stood to face Harry, as the bespectacled man pulled out his wand and pointed it at the red head's face.

"Scourgify."

"Argh!" Ron yelled, as his eyes filled with soap. Harry stared at him, quite alarmed, as Ron yanked off his shirt over his head and tried to wipe the soap away. He flicked his wand again, causing the soap to disappear. Ron glared at him with bloodshot eyes, the black ink stains on his face only looking worse.

"That's funny," mumbled Harry, "I thought that would've done the trick. Hey Ron, you have any idea of what to do?"

"No." he snapped icily, "No, I don't."

Harry shrugged, not looking remorseful enough for Ron's liking, and looked around, "We're at Hermione's place."

"Way to state the obvious, mate."

"No, I mean, let's just ask her. She'll get it off in a sec," Harry stretched, and yawned, "Where is Hermione, anyway?"

"Dunno. Went out, probably," Ron shrugged, still trying to rub off the sharpie glasses, trying not to flinch at his reflection. Red hair, black face and red bloodshot eyes. He could easily pass off as the family ghoul.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Meanwhile, Harry had made himself at home in the kitchen. A pot of coffee was boiling on the stove while he rooted around in the fridge. Ron came in and plonked himself down at the kitchen table, groaning as the pounding in his head got worse with his less than gentle movements.

"Here," Harry put a cup of coffee in front of him,.

Ron reached for the cup, but never made it as Harry had snatched Ron's hand up to his face, nearly dragging his best friend off the chair in the process.

"Harry, what-" Ron started but his best friend shushed him as he examined the platinum ring on the redhead's little finger. The dark-haired man's eyes widened as he stared at the teardrop diamond.

"Ron, how-"

Ron shrugged irritably, tugging his hand back out of Harry's grip," Don't ask me, mate. I've been trying to figure that out this whole morning. What's worse is that the stupid thing won't come off."

Harry fell into the chair beside him, put a hand over his eyes and groaned, "I don't know what happened last night. Can't remember squat but I know that THIS was not supposed to happen."

The redhead stiffened, coffee cup halfway to his lips, "What was not supposed to happen?"

Harry shot Ron the 'Are you really that thick?" look.

"Ron." he said, patronizingly slowly, "There is a ring on your finger. It's obviously an ENGAGEMENT ring. It is a ring that a bloke gives a girl when-"

"I know what an engagement ring is!" Ron snapped. Harry looked considerably relieved.

"Someone we know wants to propose to someone else."

Ron looked at the ring in horror. Harry was surprised, he didn't think his best friend would catch on that fast.

"Am I wearing Ginny's ring?!"

Harry promptly smacked Ron over the head.

"No, you git. She's already wearing our engagement ring."

"Right," mumbled Ron. "So whose is it?"

The dark-haired man sighed.

"Look at the emeralds Ron. Green. Does anyone in particular come to mind when you think of the color green?"

"Well, yeah mate," he said, sipping his coffee, "You do. It matches your eyes. Are you sure this isn't Ginny's?"

He received another smack over the head. Harry decided to give it one last go.

"Someone, among the four of us-" He immediately cringed at his choice of words. Draco tagged along with their group so often, the trio had become a quartet. But it was either put up with him, or suffer Hermione's wrath. He took a breath, and continued, "One of the four of us, that is Malfoy, Hermione, you and me, wants to propose to someone else from this same group. Get my drift?"

"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Ron, realisation dawning on his features, "Hermione wants to marry me!"

Harry gave up.

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