Hermione sat herself down in front of her mirror, idly running her fingers through her now smooth and shining tresses. Still, she could see the ghost of her bushy mane in her mind's eye. With a taut smile, she recalled the taunts and mocking she received over her hair.
"Hey there, bushy!"
"Granger, have all the good grades your head gotten so big? Oh, wait, that's just your hair!
She straightened her posture and shook her head, as if to dispel the unpleasant memories. Letting out a tense breath, she brushed her hair behind her shoulders, the soft strands reaching halfway down her back.
I wonder why Ron asked me to go over to dinner. He was extremely adamant that I attend after I tried to explain that I needed to look over the newest Goblin liaison contract that I had Malfoy to revise for me. Of course, once I mentioned Malfoy was involved he turned even more obstinate. Could… could Ron be jealous of Malfoy? No, that's ridiculous. This is Ron I'm talking about. Ron knows I love him, no matter how swamped I become with work. He should be more than aware of how dedicated I am to my job at this point in life, just as much as he is to his. Besides, he absolutely loathes Malfoy while Malfoy… is fairly indifferent to him. With the exception of when Ron's in my office, giving his best effort to annoy him. But Malfoy always stays cool as an ice cube, smirk in place. How does he do it? Back in Hogwarts, he'd take every single opportunity given to insult Ron but now…
Hermione frowned and forced herself focus on the task of putting mascara on; she'd hate to gouge an eye out no thanks to her lack of concentration. She coated her light brown, naturally curled lashes with a light coat of mascara. She felt silly the way her mouth gaped when she did, but she came to love the ritual of putting on makeup. Not that she needed a lot, anyway. She preferred to let her skin breathe and usually only bothered with the whole works for special occasions. She dabbed a pink cream blush on her cheeks, blending it out methodically with her fingers so she wouldn't have bright pink spots on her cheeks.
Oh, if only Lavender and Parvati could see me now. They were always urging me to borrow their makeup. Needless to say, they'd be proud of me.
Hermione has always considered herself as a person who liked to master anything and everything she set her mind to. That included the girly things she neglected to pay attention to back in Hogwarts, such as makeup and shopping. She had considered the makeup part to be simple enough; she spent most of her time in Muggle department stores. To be more specific, beauty counters. The amount of products that catered to make a woman look more beautiful both fascinated and puzzled her.
After all, Hermione spent most of her youth fighting her roommates, choosing to focus on her schoolwork instead and helping Harry fight Voldemort. She grew up being a tomboy and anything having to do with her two male best friends (who often arrived to their common room dripping in muck and sweat) didn't particularly bother her. But Hermione was a full-grown woman and knew it was high time to learn all about beauty and to get over her aversion to it and any other "girly" things.
She added a bit of tinted lip balm to her lips and stood up, smoothing down her bright floral knee-length skirt and picking off a piece of lint from her cream split neck blouse.
Hermione grew to enjoy shopping (for both clothes and beauty items), often ordering dresses from Muggle catalogs as she took bubble baths. Not that she was able to do it often, but once in a blue moon she'd get all her work done up and would head home to relax in a sumptuous bubble bath and a glass of wine. Of course, that is something she would never confess to anybody willingly.
Slipping her feet into a pair of nude flats, she twisted a front section of hair and pinned it back, pleased at her reflection. She daubed her favorite vanilla-scented perfume on her wrists and neck, setting down the bottle carefully on her vanity and returned to looking at herself once more.
"Who would have ever thought that know-it-all, bushy-haired Granger would ever turn out like this?" she whispered to herself.
I'm sure I would have gotten teased less often. I might have had a boyfriend or two, even…
"What does it matter now, anyway? I'm still the same ol' Hermione Granger… but with more appealing looks."
Her eyes glanced at the clock in her room and she whirled around with a gasp.
Is that the time? I dawdled too much… better get my things and Apparate to Ron's house.
With a flick of her wand, Hermione concentrated on the three D's and soon found herself staring at The Burrow. Smiling fondly, she made her way down the trail (relieved that she'd forgone wearing heels) and raised her hand to knock on the door.
She could hear voices and scuffling going on in the inside of the house and she smiled amusedly as Ginny practically ripped the door opening, grinning widely at her friend.
"Hermione! What a pleasure to see you! Come in, come in… but I'm sure you know you don't need to knock," she scolded playfully, pressing a kiss to Hermione's cheek.
"I know, Gin… but it feels wrong somehow," she muttered, following her red-haired best friend across the living room and into the kitchen.
"How have you been? Ron's mentioned that work's been keeping you busy."
"Definitely, but now with Malfoy as my assistant, it honestly feels like the workload has lightened. Kingsley couldn't have found me a better person for the job," Hermione told her, gripping her purse tightly, somewhat nervously.
Ginny froze and turned around, frowning at her friend.
"Wait… what? Malfoy works for you?" she asked with incredulity.
"He works with me, Gin," Hermione corrected gently.
"So that's the job that he was researching when you ran into him?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed with mild distrust.
"Well, now that you mention it… yes. He is very well-versed with the cases and petitions that have cropped up… and good at referencing old ones, why didn't I think of it before? And it makes sense, Malfoy did have the best marks after me…" Hermione mused.
Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes, an action that reminded her of Ron.
"Hermione, has it occurred to you that Malfoy set himself up to work for you?"
This time it was Hermione who snorted.
"I think not. Besides, he has been perfectly polite with me, not once disrespecting me or my decisions."
"Are you really sure it's Malfoy? Maybe the body snatchers got to him…"
"Ginny, really. Ron is also stubbornly set on thinking that Malfoy has a grand scheme tucked under his robes… you two must be related," Hermione teased, gently nudging her side.
"Some things are hard to forget, Hermione. I know he gave you a terrible time back in school…"
"Ginny, I know. But I'm a firm believer that people can change. Even people that were formerly malicious, cowardly—"
"Bullying, cold, pompous, narcissistic," Ginny interrupted loudly. "But I happen to trust your judgment, Hermione; if you say he's changed then I believe you. Still, if you ever need someone who knows a mean bat bogey hex…"
The redhead winked at her friend, causing Hermione to wrap her arm around Ginny's freckled shoulders.
"So who else is here?"
"Just about everybody," Ginny answered.
Hermione frowned and something that felt like suspicion formed in the back of her mind.
"Hermione, my goodness! It feels like I haven't seen you in ages, dearie!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, entering the kitchen at that precise moment.
"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione cried as the woman took her into her arms in a tight hug.
Once she pulled away, Hermione massaged her sides subtly.
"How are you?" the Weasley matriarch asked fondly, waving her wand at the oven.
"Good, busy with work as always," she answered, knowing better than to mention Malfoy to the Weasley matriarch.
"That's always good. Ron has been incredibly busy too, thank Merlin. Anyway, why don't you two go and head out back? Everybody's out there already. Dinner should be ready soon," she smiled with a twinkle in her eye.
She nodded wordlessly, the feeling at the back of her head growing heavier.
"Ginny, why is everybody here?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her lips.
"Just you wait," she chirped, a twinkle appearing in her eye as well.
Uh-oh, this can't be good. Could they be scheming something? Why does everybody have to be here?
She swallowed nervously as Ginny gave her a friendly shove in the back, causing Hermione to stumble into the backyard with everybody's eyes on her. She gave a little wave as she walked slowly toward the group, Percy and George rising from their seats to welcome her.
After having kissed them all on the cheek, Ron stood before her. She blinked at him, looking at him up and down. He wore a button down white shirt that was (surprisingly) tucked into grey slacks and a grey plaid vest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His feet were clad in black shoes and Hermione couldn't quite help but raise her eyebrows at him.
"Oh, just… y'know, feeling a bit fancy is all," he muttered, taking her into his arms for a hug.
She frowned as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling puzzled.
But Ron absolutely abhors getting dressed up. I practically have to dress him myself for special occasions…
She froze in his arms as it began to dawn on her what was going on. He pulled away and looked at her curiously but all she could do was smile numbly at him, clenching her jaw tightly.
"You look absolutely beautiful, Mione," he muttered, brushing a strand of hair away.
She felt herself relax as he cupped her face gently, his sparkling blue eyes peering earnestly into hers.
"I could say the same for you. You even got a haircut," she smiled, gently brushing the nape of his flame hair.
He chuckled as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.
"Well, you had been telling me that I needed to get it cut," he reminded her with a silly smile.
"I know that. But since when do you ever listen to me?" she teased, loving the way the sun brought out the strawberry tones in his hair.
Ron grinned at her, causing her heart to thump faster.
This is good, this is what I need… with Ron constantly on my back about Malfoy, I can't appreciate all the little quirks I love about him.
Someone behind her cleared his throat loudly, making Hermione laugh.
"Harry James Potter," she said, turning around swiftly.
He grinned at her, holding his arms out for a hug. She gladly hugged him and noticed that Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley come out of the house, the former waving at her enthusiastically. She waved back as she pulled away from Harry and suddenly noticed that everybody was peering at her rather excitedly.
Ron took hold of her hand, giving it a firm squeeze, causing a spike of dread to run up Hermione's back.
"Hello everybody and thanks for coming here on such short notice," he said, smiling nervously at his family. "I just wanted to take this time to stop and smell the roses, as the Muggles say."
Everybody chuckled at this, turning to look at their significant others.
"I don't think I tell Hermione enough that I love her. Or that I appreciate her, for that matter. She's an incredible woman, a woman that I have been lucky to call mine for years. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's moral… but best of all, she loves me," Ron spoke, a tense edge to his voice as he turned to look at Hermione.
Hermione, who at this point was starting to feel the cold spread all throughout her body despite the delicious warm rays of the sun that fell upon.
"Hermione Granger…" Ron spoke, eyes blazing as he lowered himself on one knee, "I want to spend every minute of every day with you, for the rest of my life. I don't want anything to come between us and I certainly don't want there a chance to be. I want to love you, honor you, and respect you until we grow old and grey. So will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Hermione stood frozen, looking down into Ron's serious blue eyes, the sounds of cooing and happy shouts disappearing on her suddenly deaf ears. Ron gulped and she could see his Adam's apple bob jerkily as he gripped her hand a little tighter, the wrinkle between his brows getting deeper the longer she took to respond.
Why am I stalling? I love Ron, this is what I've wanted ever since I was thirteen, is it not? So why do I feel like part of me wants to snatch my hand again and Disapparate out of here?
The breeze ruffled Ron's flaming hair and in that moment, Hermione saw a much younger Ron; a Ron who was scared out of his wits but whose eyes still held the glimmer of hope that his love would be enough for her. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her ears as her heart started to thaw in her chest. Swallowing thickly, she gave his hand a squeeze as she let out a breath of air.
"Yes," she heard herself say.
And for one awful, confusing moment, Hermione could almost swear that she saw a haunting pair of grey eyes surveying her coolly instead of Ron's bright blue eyes.
Just as soon as Hermione said yes, Ron leapt up and gathered her into his arms as cheers and whistles erupted around them. Hermione stared blankly at the sky, everything around her a blur. Ron finally pulled away, a euphoric grin taking over his face as he took out a small velvet box, opening it slowly. He took the ring and grabbed Hermione's hand, slowly slipping the ring onto her left ring finger.
"Ouch, Ron… wait. I think it's a bit too small," Hermione mumbled, a tiny crease forming between her brows as Ron continued to jam the ring on her finger.
"Ah, there we go now, perfect fit," he announced, showing off Hermione's hand.
She pressed her lips into a line, not wanting to complain.
It really is a beautiful ring… I wonder who it belonged to. Doesn't matter now, I guess… it's mine now. Hermione Weasley. It has a… familiar sound.
Hermione looked up and watched how Ron's family attacked him in a hug, making her feel alone. She then felt somebody wrap their arm around her shoulder and she turned to see Harry giving her a kind smile.
"Everything's going to be okay, Hermione," he nodded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
She felt her lips twitch up in response, a sense of reassurance flowing through her body.
It's going to be okay… everything is going to be okay. It has to be.
