Hello all,

Thanks for your support, and your patience. I hope you continue to enjoy this story!

~Dot

It had been one week since Hermione started the library assistant job. It was a simple affair, consisting primarily of stocking and restocking books and checking customers out. The library also hosted many events, including a weekly book club that Hermione readily joined. She found that she was not as up-to-date on muggle books as she would like to be, and saw the book club as a chance to remedy that.

As the days passed by, she was getting to know her coworkers better and better. On a whole, they were easy to be around and matched (if not exceeded) Hermione's love of books. Her boss, Janet, was a middle-aged woman who reminded her of her mother. She was kind and soft-spoken, with a mess of grey hair which she braided into a large loose plait that went down to her bum. She wasn't the most sociable person and prefered to be in the back with the books instead of upfront with people, which Hermione sympathised with.

The social aspect of the job was mostly headed by her coworker, Lucy. She was about Hermione's age, and chatty as all get out. She had cropped black hair, glasses that took up half of her face, and a dainty nose ring. Outside of the library, Hermione supposed that Lucy might look intimidating, but in the library she blended in perfectly, as if she was a part of the library's infrastructure. She was not afraid to ask anyone personal and probing questions. Thankfully, since she was always busy running meetings or leading helpless book readers around the library, she didn't have much time left for Hermione.

Hermione was starting to feel at ease, settling into her new position and life. Though she still hadn't gotten used to being called Heloise. Perhaps that's why, at the end of her shift on her first Friday, it took Lucy three times to call her and get her attention.

"So me and Dan were going to go get drinks, and I was wondering if you and your other half would like to join?", Lucy asked, not deterred by Hermione's apparent hearing loss.

"Oh," Hermione responded, not expecting to be asked out for drinks. It had happened a few times at her job at the Ministry, but it was a rarity, as most of her coworkers either had children or liked to be in bed by 9. She hadn't prepared for this aspect of her new life—for socialising. Their goal of being undercover was to appear normal and do things that normal people would do. But Hermione got a pit in her stomach worrying about the potential danger of the situation. Lucy seemed harmless, though Hermione knew that appearances could be deceiving. And she had never met Dan, though she had seen him pick Lucy up a few times in his beat-up sedan.

"Let me see if Ron can," she said, figuring that he would be a good excuse to get her out of going if he deemed it too dangerous.

They had each been given a state-of-the-art flip phone on their arrival to Whitby. It was preprogrammed with each other's numbers, the emergency number for Aurors (if they were in danger) and a number for the Programme. It also had a plethora of fake numbers, so as not to arouse suspicion if someone were to find their phones. When they first got their phones, Hermione felt a jolt of excitement. Finally, something that she would be better at than Ron! Since their new-found courtship, it was like he was an entirely different man, cooking and cleaning and basically outdoing Hermione in every aspect of domesticity. But there was no way he would be able to use a phone. Or so she thought. Apparently, the Aurors used cell phones when they were in areas where they couldn't use magic. So Ron had no trouble adapting to the technology.

"Hey," Hermione spoke quietly to Ron on the phone (it may be closing time, but she was still in a library).

"What's wrong?", Ron asked urgently.

"Nothing, sorry," Hermione apologised. "It's just that Lucy, my coworker, asked if we'd like to join her for drinks? I didn't know if you were available." She added, trying to give him an out.

"Oh," Ron said, "I had a half-day, I'm at home."

"Do you want to go?", Hermione said, turning away so that Lucy couldn't hear her.

"Erm—I guess," Ron said less than enthusiastically. "It would be good for our cover."

"Oh, great," Hermione said, matching his tone and walking back to where Lucy was waiting. "Do you want to walk over here?"

"We can pick him up," Lucy interjected. "You're not far from here, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "We're going to pick you up," she said to Ron. He agreed, not letting Hermione know if it was a good idea for people to know where they lived. With his approval, Hermione couldn't back out, and she and Lucy headed to Dan's car.

Dan was as affable as Lucy and he easily made small talk with Hermione on their short drive to pick up Ron. Ron was standing outside of their residence, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a light jumper.

"He's fit," Lucy winked at Hermione as Ron headed to the car. Hermione couldn't help but agree, especially now that Ron's clothes were no longer hand-me-downs. Though she found she missed his red hair.

Ron squeezed into the small car, literally. He looked giant in the back seat, his knees to his chest and his arms pressed unnaturally to his side. Hermione was worried he would be upset about being dragged to this awkward lie-fest of an evening, but he smiled at her as he sat—the crooked half-smile that she had missed so much. She couldn't help but smile back, but it quickly faded, as Hermione remembered that it was all an act.

Ron jovially introduced himself and seemed at ease with the muggle couple. Lucy asked them all sorts of questions. What did Ron do? What made them move out to Whitby? How did they meet?

The last question gave her pause, they hadn't devised a story about that yet. But Ron easily answered, saying they met in secondary school. Rowan had suggested that they stay as close to the truth as possible, as it made it easier to remember their stories. Of course, they had to avoid anything too personal, or anything related to magic.

Lucy squealed at Ron's response. "Young love!", she exclaimed. "That's adorable. Was it love at first sight?", she asked probingly.

Hermione laughed, despite herself, and was pleased to see that Ron also found it humorous. "Not at all," Hermione offered. "I'm not sure he liked me at all when we first met, I don't even know if he knew I was a girl until we were 15 or so." When they were dating, this was often a topic of debate; who fancied the other first, who fell in love first, who was more jealous.

"That's not at all true," Ron countered, his smile still shining on his face, "I was 14." Ron took Hermione's hand in his and squeezed it as they all began to laugh. She felt her heart skip a beat, but tried to breathe normally, after all this was all for show.

Lucy distracted Hermione from her introspection as she shared that she and Dan had met in Uni. He now taught English at the local primary school and she became a librarian. A match made in book-lovers heaven.

They made it to the pub, a different one than the one which Ron and Hermione had ventured into a couple of weeks before. Dan and Lucy seemed to be regulars, greeting the barmaid by name and finding a table without assistance.

They ordered drinks and Hermione browsed the menu, sure she could hear Ron's stomach rumble as she did. It was a good thing they were getting food as well as drinks.

When Hermione took Ron's beer from the waitress and handed it to him, she noticed Lucy eyeing her ring.

"That's gorgeous," she said. "Isn't it gorgeous?", she asked Dan as she took Hermione's hand to show him.

Dan nodded his head unenthusiastically. "Even though we've been together for years," Lucy said, "it's been impossible to get this one," she nudged Dan, "to settle down. He thinks weddings are too expensive and he doesn't want to adhere to "societal rules", I think he just doesn't want my parents to be his in-laws," she laughed, but it was easy to tell that this bothered her a bit.

"Sooo," Lucy said with a cheeky smile looking at Ron, "how'd you do it?"

Ron coughed on his beer. "Do what?", he asked.

"Propose," Lucy said simply.

"Oh, erm," Ron stuttered, and Hermione could feel her face go red. Of all of the topics of conversation, this had to be the worst. Proposals were a taboo subject for Ron and Hermione. She wondered what he would say, especially since the truth was so—well, not romantic.

His proposal so many years ago had gone badly wrong, like a bad luck domino hitting another bad luck domino, over and over until the last one fell into the worst proposal of all time.

It all started a few days before their second anniversary, which also was a few days before the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione had suggested they change their anniversary date, to move it away from such an emotional day, but Ron was adamant that they celebrate the actual day they got together. He reasoned that they needed to celebrate the good along with the bad.

At this point, Ron's Auror duties were in full swing and he was often gone on missions. The most recent one had taken over a month and was the longest they had been apart without being able to write to one another. Every day she woke up wracked with anxiety, worrying about his well being. Luckily, a few days earlier, he had managed to send a letter to her telling her that he would be back in time for their anniversary. Even better, he would be back a few days beforehand. She had waited nervously at her fireplace all day for his return. It had been so hard being without him, to the point that she didn't know if she'd snog him or burst into tears when she first saw him.

But he never came that day. Technically it was the next day when he arrived plastered and out of sorts, stumbling out of their fireplace. Hermione had just about given up waiting for him and was shocked at his arrival. She went to hug him but stopped dead in her tracks when whiffed the unmistakable smell of bourbon on him.

"Where have you been?", she asked shrilly, her anxiousness and excitement turning into anger.

"'Mione," Ron said as he stumbled closer to her. "'Missed you," he tried to wrap his arms around her but she pushed his arms away.

"You're drunk," she stated.

"Just a bit," he slurred. "Stopped by the Leaky with the boys."

Hermione could feel herself seething. "You were supposed to be home yesterday. I stayed up all night worried that you were dead and it turns out you were out having fun!"

"Mione," he repeated, trying to right himself as he did.

"No," Hermione shouted, "you should have written, you should have at least told me, instead of leaving me here…" her voice broke. Ron tried to explain, as best he could in his state, that he only intended to be out for a bit. He was peer pressured by his mates to celebrate their win. He told her that he was desperate to come back to her, but the alcohol was stronger than he expected, and he ended up losing time.

The argument only escalated. Hermione began flip-flopping through all of the little things that had ruminated in her—all of the things that he did which bothered her. They were minuscule, unimportant things, but she couldn't help herself from bringing them up. She shouted at him about how he always left his socks in the laundry, even though she had told him many times how it annoyed her. How he never cooked and his letters were often vague.

He took her insults in his stride and easily retorted that her letters were sometimes half the length of his. He exclaimed that she had no idea what it was like to be away, in danger, with no clue when you would get back. He shouted that she had it easy and that she should be more understanding that he needed a break.

The argument ended with Hermione going to stay at her parent's house. They hadn't spoken over the next couple of days, except for Ron to double-check that they were still celebrating their anniversary. Neither of them apologised to the other.

The day of their anniversary was lousy. Hermione had a terrible day at work; she was late because she forgot to set her alarm, her proposal was denied, and, to top it off, it seemed like everyone in the entire building had to come over and either congratulate her or offer condolences because it was the anniversary of the battle.

When she floo'd to their shared flat, she was exhausted and ready to relax. Of course, Ron had planned a whole evening. And even though they were barely on speaking terms, she felt like she had to indulge him.

He took her to a lavish wizarding restaurant, one for which she was far too dressed down. He ordered them champagne and an appetizer that cost more than what she made in a day. Even though she was fatigued, feeling out of place and underdressed, she began to feel at ease. Not because of the expensive food or the champagne she had nearly guzzled down, but because she was with him. She had missed him so much, and she was being reminded why–she loved him and she loved being with him.

She had even suggested they leave after their appetizers so that they could spend more time alone, but Ron (surprisingly) disagreed, wanting them to have the evening he planned.

They had just ordered their main course when she heard it. It was the unmistakable sound of a camera clicking. Behind Ron, and the large French window which framed him, she could see someone squatting in the bushes outside, taking photos of them.

Maybe it was the stressful day she had or maybe it was the fact that they hadn't talked about their earlier fight and her desperation to resolve their problems, but not be the first one to apologise, was causing her uncomfortable emotions to stir in her, but Hermione blew up. It ended up becoming a whole thing, with the manager shooing the paparazzi off as Hermione continued her tirade on them, the entirety of the restaurant watching her explode. The manager apologised profusely and offered them a more secluded place and free meals, but Hermione was done. All she wanted to do was to go home and snuggle in her bed with a good book.

She told Ron as much, he had seemed disappointed but apparated them back home anyway. As Hermione began heating their tea kettle, grabbing some wine to add to her drink, Ron called her over. She grudgingly walked to him, after he insisted it was of utmost importance for her to do so.

There she found him on one knee, holding a ring in one hand. She had frozen, utterly shocked at what he was doing. Of course she wanted to marry him, she loved him. But she wasn't ready; it wasn't a good time. During the times they had talked about marriage previously, she had been sure to mention this. She wanted to wait, at least a few more years. They weren't in a hurry, and she wanted to have settled into her career more. To her, marriage meant starting a family, and they were barely out of their teens—it was too soon.

Thinking back on this moment, she knew she was too harsh to him. After all, one of the things she had loved so much about him was his optimism and willingness to jump headfirst into anything he deemed worthy. But she wasn't thinking about that at the time, she wasn't even thinking about his feelings, all she was thinking about was how exhausted she was.

She had torn into him, stopping his proposal before it started. She yelled that he never listened to her, that he didn't care about what she wanted. Old fights came up, including one about one of Ron's female officers that she didn't trust. She didn't let up, not even to hear his reasoning—that they didn't need to get married anytime soon, that he loved her with all of his heart and he wanted to prove it, and that they didn't have to change anything until they were both ready.

Even though their relationship lasted almost a year longer, thinking back on it, it is clear that that moment was the beginning of the end.

Hermione shook her head, coming back to the present and waited with bated breath as Ron began to tell Lucy and Dan the story of their "proposal". He started with the truth ( though he left out their previous fight and the paparazzi). In this version, they had eaten all of the wonderful, fancy food, before Ron surprised Hermione with a horse-drawn carriage. He noted that it was a bit cheesy to do, but he couldn't think of a better way to get to their final destination. The horse led them to a secluded spot, slightly off of the main road, and into a grove of trees. In the clearing in the middle of the grove, Ron had covered the trees with lights.

It was the place that they had kissed after their first official date. Ron left out that their first date was months after their first kiss when they finally were able to travel safely, and all of the funerals had ended. But Hermione remembered it. Ron had taken her to a seaside town, one that had both magical and muggle people living in it. She hadn't realised at the time that the fancy restaurant was in that town. In fact, she could recall walking past it on their first date, Ron remarking that he would take her there one day.

In the clearing, he helped her out of the coach and proposed. She, of course, said yes, and the rest is history. Just not theirs Hermione thought ruefully.

Lucy was in love with the story (as was Hermione, despite herself) and praised Ron for his romanticism. Thankfully, as their food arrived, the topic was changed, and they spent the rest of the evening talking about everything except romance, much to Hermione's glee.

Hermione went to bed that night tired and full, reflecting on the great night she had. She liked Lucy and Dan. It was nice to have friends outside of Ron and it made the whole bizarre undercover situation feel a bit more normal. Though there was one thing about the evening that she just couldn't shake.

She laid in bed, tossing and turning, contemplating whether she should say something. She decided to whisper his name, hoping that he was asleep and couldn't hear her. But he wasn't, and he did.

"Was that how you were going to propose, if I hadn't messed it up?", she whispered anxiously.

"Yeah," Ron said barely above a whisper. It was hard to tell what he was thinking by his tone, though she could imagine that he was quite hurt by not getting the evening he had worked so hard on planning. She didn't press him further and turned over in an attempt to sleep, something she was sure wouldn't be happening anytime soon.