A decent lengh chapter finally! Sorry it's been a while in coming. Next one will be the brothers'night out, and will be angsty, but not Ron-centric.

Please read and review.

1st March 1999 Ron Weasley is 19

II

On Ron's birthday, he and Hermione were sitting at a quiet table in the corner of Carlino's restaurant. Hermione was looking round with frank admiration at the purple and gold décor, the heavy gold drapes at the windows and doors, the dark wood tables and the silver lamps, which were dim enough to give an air of intimacy, and yet bright enough to stop the room from feeling gloomy. Each table was lit with floating silver candles and decorated with dark purple and cream roses.

"I can see why Bill and Fleur like this place," she observed.

"Mmm." Ron was absorbed in reading the menu. "Bill says they change the colours every week. The last time they came, it was pink. Fleur liked it, but he said it was like being trapped inside a mass of candyfloss."

Hermione laughed. "Or a Barbie house."

"Barbie?" asked Ron blankly. "Who the hell is Barbie?"

Hermione sighed. There were so many things she took for granted that Ron had no clue about. "Muggle doll," she explained briefly. "Likes pink. A lot."

Ron frowned. "Muggles are weird," he said.

"And wizards aren't?" asked Hermione raising her eyebrows. "People are just people, Ron, whether they're wizards or Muggles, and some of them are weird and some aren't."

Ron smiled at her. "You'd better start an offshoot of SPEW for Muggle protection, to stop people like me being rude about them," he said.

Hermione frowned, but was prevented from answering by the approach of the waiter to take their order, which was probably just as well.

Conversation was sporadic for a while. Hermione looked at Ron anxiously. It was obvious that he was preoccupied about something, and she was reminded of her own birthday, when he had been worried about George. His worries then had proved only too well-founded. She decided to take the bull by the horns.

"What's up, Ron?" she asked quietly.

Ron jumped, and spilt soup all down his shirt at the question. "Damn!" he said.

Hermione flicked her wand at him to clear up the mess, and repeated the question. "What's up?"

Ron looked at her with resignation. "How do you always know, Hermione?" he asked.

"Because I know you. Is it George?"

Ron nodded, now looking thoroughly miserable. "Yeah. He – it's like he just can't be bothered any more, Since Dad's birthday, he's-he's just going through the motions. He does all the right stuff – opens the shop, even laughs with the customers, but his heart's not in it. He hasn't come up with a proper idea for a new product in weeks. And he's drinking far too much. I don't know how to help him, Mione."

"Oh Ron." Hermione reached across the table and held his hand. "I'm sorry. Poor George."

"I know." Ron pulled away from her, flushing slightly as the waiter came to take their empty plates, He took her hand again though once the man had gone. "He's-he's not like George any more. It's like losing both of them."

Hermione's mouth twisted in sympathy as they both sat back while the waiter placed their main course in front of them.

"I wish I knew what to suggest, Ron," she said. "But I don't. I guess a lot of it he just has to get through on his own somehow. It must be so hard for him."

"Yeah, I know," Ron replied huskily. "There was one day last week when I woke up and I forgot – I just forgot – that Fred was dead. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks that he was, that I'd never see him again. It was so…" He stopped abruptly, blinking rapidly, and when he spoke again his voice was shaking. "If it's that bad for me, what must I be like for George? I can't imagine…"

"No, nor me," Hermione said quietly. "But I guess all any of us can do is to be there for him when he needs us – even if he won't admit that he does." She frowned. "Have you said anything to him about him drinking too much?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Maybe I'm a coward, but I think he'd just yell at me if I did. Katie's tried though. They had a big row about it last night, and she left in tears."

"Oh no." Hermione sounded upset. "If he loses Katie as well…"

Ron shook his head again. "I don't think he will. She cares about him too much to walk out on him, but it's tough on her. He's not the same person he was before Fred died. I don't think he ever will be." Ron took a gulp of his wine. "I'm sorry Hermione. We're supposed to be having a nice time, and I'm being a wet blanket."

"S'okay," Hermione replied. "You can't help being worried about George. He's your brother. And he's my friend. I wish we could do something, but…"

"But the one person who could help is dead," Ron finished for her. His eyes were suspiciously bright. "Dammit. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Mi. Once You Know Who was defeated, we were all supposed to live happily ever after."

"I know, love," Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand. "It's not fair."

Ron shook himself, and made a visible effort to cheer up as the waiter removed their plates and presented them with the desserts menu.

"Anyway, there's nothing we can do about it now," Ron said firmly. "Charlie's coming over for the weekend, and we're all going out for a drink tomorrow night. Perhaps he'll be able to say something to get through to George. Though the idea of Charlie lecturing someone about drinking too much is odd to say the least... But it'd be less big-brotherish coming from him than from Bill. And George isn't likely to listen to anything Percy or I say about it."

"I hope Charlie can help," Hermione said seriously. "But as you say, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Yeah," Ron sighed. "Change the subject."

The waiter returned at that point to take their order for desserts and coffee, and for the remainder of the meal they discussed Hermione's application to the Magical Law Enforcement Department, before branching out to design their dream house which they would buy when "she had earned enough money to keep him in the style to which he would like to become accustomed", as Ron put it. From there, it was just a small step to discussing how many children they would have. (Ron said eight, because he thought they ought o out-do his parents, but Hermione maintained that two was more than enough.)

Suddenly, and at the same moment, it occurred to both of them that they were making assumptions about their future that they had not really discussed before. Ron realised with a jolt how unthinkable a future without Hermione by his side would be. Waving to the waiter, he settled the bill in double-quick time, and grabbed Hermione's hands.

"Come somewhere with me?" he asked, slightly breathlessly.

"Okay. Where?" she asked, looking confused, but half-laughing at his eagerness.

"Not telling." Ron led her outside and put his arm round her and kissed her. "Trust me. Please."

"You? For side-along?" she asked sceptically.

"Please. I won't muck up, I promise."

"Okay." Hermione gripped his arm, but she still looked dubious. "Why can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"That'd spoil the surprise," he smiled. "Ready?"

There was the familiar sensation of constricting darkness, and when she opened her eyes, Hermione found that they were standing next to a waterfall. It was a clear night, cold enough to make them grateful for their thick cloaks, and the moonlight was so bright that she could see the water cascading down behind them, through ferns and other greenery. There was a pool at the foot of the fall, obviously deep, and still enough to reflect the three-quarter moon perfectly, except at the foot of the waterfall, where it was a churning mass of white water. It was a beautiful, magical place, and she felt as if she and Ron were the only people in the world.

"Where on earth are we?" she breathed, looking around with a look of wonderment on her face.

"Like it?" Ron was looking very pleased with himself. "It's in Wales somewhere. We came here when we were kids once. I've always thought it was one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen."

"It is beautiful," Hermione gasped, taking his hand and leaning forward to kiss him. "I love it."

"I love you." Ron tightened his grip around her and kissed her again. "Hermione, I need to ask you something."

"What?" she asked, frowning. Even by moonlight, she could see Ron's ears reddening.

Ron held both her hands, and looked into her eyes. "I know – I know it'll be a while. I mean, you've got NEWTs and then you want a career, and I've got the joke shop to keep me busy and George to look after, but..." He took a deep breath, and tightened his grip on her hands. "Hermione, will you marry me one day?"

"Oh Ron." Hermione's eyes were bright and full of love as she kissed him.

A long time later, Ron realised that she had never actually given him an answer, but it did not matter. He knew what her answer was, without being told.