A/N: Just a little sugar fix you all you romantics out there.
'Please fasten your seatbelts as we begin descending to London.' Chirped an annoying salesperson voice. 'Once again, we thank you for travelling with International Air. Please remain seated until the plane has come to a complete stop.'
Harry rolled his eyes as he got out of the plane. Thank goodness he wouldn't be hearing that voice in a long time. After all, 20 straight hours from America was quite enough. (A/N: Not sure about exact time from USA - UK, but anyway!)
Being the Boy Who Lived and all, Harry preferred taking muggle transport to stay out of the incessant limelight which he always received. After coming from a few functions in Washington, and meeting with stuffy galleon-crazed Ministry wizards - Harry was glad to be back.
Harry turned into the Leaky Cauldron. 'Hi, Frank.' He said.
'Good day, Mister Potter! And the usual?'
Harry slid into a barstool and flashed a grateful smile, 'Yes, thanks.'
'Frank's special cocktail, coming up.'
'Harry Potter!' said a familiar voice.
'Ron!' said Harry, turning. Clapping a hand on his back, Ron sat down on a barstool next to him.
'How was America?' said Ron, 'Rum, please.' He added to Frank as he handed a cocktail to Harry.
'Same old thing, really.' Said Harry. 'How are your wedding plans going?'
'Ah, well.' Said Ron. 'You know the deal.'
Harry didn't.
'Caterers, decorators and annoying great aunts.' Sighed Ron. 'Geez, once a member of the family is getting married, everyone wants to plan it. Honestly, if it weren't for Lavender and all's sheer determination, the whole reception would look like a pink marshmallow infested hell.'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'I won't even ask.'
'And I didn't even mention the enchanted bunny rabbits Aunt Gertha wanted.' Said Ron sighing heavily.
Harry shook his head, stifling a laugh. 'Listen, would Mrs. Weasley have any - easy - recipes that I could borrow?'
'Sure, I suppose.' Said Ron. He narrowed his eyes mock suspiciously, 'Why?'
But Harry was gone.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Harry walked down Diagon Alley, looking a newsstands with magazines splattered with pictures of his long time girlfriend, Hermione.
"People's Choice: Beauty and Brains!" one headline screamed, with a photograph of Hermione wearing a black suit with a tilted top hat with her brownish-blonde curly locks (now considerably tamed) straightened, reclining on a huge blow up globe.
Harry chuckled to himself. 'May I buy this?' he asked her wizened witch behind the stand.
'O' course, Mr. Potter - oh, I can't accept your money - it's on the house!' said the witch.
Harry smiled, but left the money for the magazine, as well as a little more.
'Bye, Mr. Potter!' said the witch frantically as he walked away.
After framing the front cover, he bought a bunch of pretty roses enchanted to sing and made his way to the house they shared with Ron and Lavender - although, they were moving out after they tied the knot in a few weeks.
He walked up to the house and threw open the door. 'Harry!' squealed Hermione, dashing down the stairs. She looked stunning as always, wearing a pretty white shirt and ruffled denim skirt. She jumped into his arms and he spun her around before setting her down.
'Hi sweetheart,' he said tangling a hand in her loose curls and kissing her gently.
'Mmm. . .' said Hermione, hugging him tightly. 'I missed you - oh, Harry!' she cried when she saw the picture and the flowers.
'So did I,' said Harry, releasing her. At that moment, a magic cell phone rang. Both of them immediately reached for the phones.
'Hello?' they both said at the same time.
'Yes, Gary?' Hermione continued as Harry set down his phone. She gestured to Harry, and walked into the kitchen.
The magic cell or mobile phone was one of Hermione adaptations of a muggle object for wizarding use. This was her first, and after that, she went on to actually invent stuff from scratch. It was her that researched an old spell, the spell that would finally kill Voldemort and from the age of sixteen, Hermione was one of the most sought after witches in the world.
'Can you believe it?' whined Hermione. 'Gary had some weird kind of emergency at the office and I need to go. I'm so sorry, Harry.' She said.
'Don't worry about it.' Said Harry, not worried at all. After all, it was his nudging that actually made Hermione need to go to work. He had special plans for her.
Quickly changing into a business suit and securing her hair in a French Twist, she quickly kissed Harry on the cheek and apparated.
Harry kicked off his shoes and made his way to an unfamiliar territory: the kitchen.
While Ron was a fantastic cook and often made the meals of the house, Harry was often employed as the washer of dishes, famous or not. After getting a recipe owled to him by Mrs. Weasley as well as a cheeky note of good luck from Ron, Harry donned a 'Kiss the Chef' apron and began to cook.
Two smashed cartons of eggs later, Harry sank down on her floor in despair. His menu was seemingly simple; tomato soup, pasta, salad, garlic bread, chocolate coated strawberries and cream and finally, a big chocolate cake. And he was determined to do it the hard way.
After accidentally putting sugar instead of salt in the pasta, Harry finally got it right. Placing a heating charm on it, Harry set it aside to start the garlic bread.
Scented with garlic, Harry put the bread beside the pasta and made quite a spectacle of himself chasing the Hermione's much-hated cat, who wouldn't so much as look at anyone except Hermione without snarling or spitting; Harry walked back into the kitchen, now scratched and smelly.
'Harry!' said a Lavender, coming back from work. 'What is that smell?' she said screwing up her nose.
'Um. . .me?' said Harry. Brandishing a wand, Lavender de-smelled him at once.
'What on earth are you doing?' she asked, collecting her things to put upstairs.
'It's a surprise for Hermione!' said Harry proudly.
'Oh!' said Lavender. 'That is too cute! How incredibly romantic of you, Harry.'
'Yep, that's me.' Said Harry swaggering. 'the sensitive new-age guy.'
'Just don't give her food poisoning.' She said, ignoring his last remark.
Harry groaned.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Setting the table, Harry put out the best silverware and put a bunch of roses in the middle of the table. Straightening the tablecloth and adjusting the decorations, Harry turned to his disbelieving audience.
'Impressed?' he said.
'I hate to say it. . .' started Ron.
'. . .but, yeah.' Finished Lavender.
'I can't wait to see her face!' said Ron.
'Actually, Ron, we're going out for dinner tonight.' Said Lavender. Harry smiled at her gratefully.
'Well, then we should go.' Said Ron, cottoning on.
After they had left, Harry changed into a fancy tuxedo and put on the finishing touches.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
'Hello?' said Hermione opening the door. Inside it was all dark.
She turned on the light and gasped. Flowers were everywhere, cascading over the banisters and scattered everywhere. In the middle of the room draped on white leather sofa was a pretty pale pink dress. A note in the shape of a flower was a message written in cursive writing.
"Wear the dress and follow the trail."
Hermione looked around and saw a trail of whole peach roses snaking up the stairs. Slipping on the dress, she walked up wonderingly. On the landing of the stairs was a huge box. She opened it and pulled out smaller box, then another and another, finally pulling out a small leather box.
Tears misting her eyes, she opened it and gulped. It was empty, except for a tiny spool of gold thread which flew into the air and made itself into the shape of a butterfly which fluttered over to the dining room.
She walked into and saw the dining room transformed into a fairy grotto with a table laid with food. There was only soft candlelight, and from around a corner came Harry.
'Oh, Harry!' said Hermione softly, smiling and feeling as though her heart would explode with happiness.
He walked over to her, green eyes shining, his unruly hair as persistently unruly as ever and bent down on one knee before her. Pulling out another box, identical to the one before, he opened it. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it and stood up.
'Ever since we kids, you were there for me. You helped me with Quirrel. You figured out the Basilik. You helped me fly a hippogriff and believed me when I told you that I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire.' A hand slowly wiped away a happy tear which threatened to drop from her cinnamon eyes. 'You helped me find out my past, and then were there in my final duel.'
'You've seen me at my best and my worst, and you've been at my side all the while. Since we graduated I spent four years happy years with you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.
'Will you marry me?'
Hermione smiled, and clasped her hands behind his neck. She kissed him softly, letting her hands run through his hair.
He wanted no other answer.
He slipped the ring on her finger, a gold ring with a pretty diamond and emerald - just the colour of his eyes, Hermione smiled.
'You made dinner?' said Hermione.
Harry nodded. 'Smashed cartons of eggs, smelt like garlic - everything.'
'For me.' She whispered, running a finger along his jawline.
Pushing out a chair for her, Hermione sat down. Harry offered her wine, and they began to eat. Everything was well, and Hermione murmured appreciation for all his hard labour until -
'Harry?'
'Yeah?'
'Did you put the salt instead of sugar in the cake?'
The elegant meal was interrupted with a loud, 'Oh, crap!'
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
They enjoyed ice-cream cones all the same.
A/N: Hope your enjoyed the little cute fic. Maybe I will write the wedding, but maybe not. Review please! Thank you!
'Please fasten your seatbelts as we begin descending to London.' Chirped an annoying salesperson voice. 'Once again, we thank you for travelling with International Air. Please remain seated until the plane has come to a complete stop.'
Harry rolled his eyes as he got out of the plane. Thank goodness he wouldn't be hearing that voice in a long time. After all, 20 straight hours from America was quite enough. (A/N: Not sure about exact time from USA - UK, but anyway!)
Being the Boy Who Lived and all, Harry preferred taking muggle transport to stay out of the incessant limelight which he always received. After coming from a few functions in Washington, and meeting with stuffy galleon-crazed Ministry wizards - Harry was glad to be back.
Harry turned into the Leaky Cauldron. 'Hi, Frank.' He said.
'Good day, Mister Potter! And the usual?'
Harry slid into a barstool and flashed a grateful smile, 'Yes, thanks.'
'Frank's special cocktail, coming up.'
'Harry Potter!' said a familiar voice.
'Ron!' said Harry, turning. Clapping a hand on his back, Ron sat down on a barstool next to him.
'How was America?' said Ron, 'Rum, please.' He added to Frank as he handed a cocktail to Harry.
'Same old thing, really.' Said Harry. 'How are your wedding plans going?'
'Ah, well.' Said Ron. 'You know the deal.'
Harry didn't.
'Caterers, decorators and annoying great aunts.' Sighed Ron. 'Geez, once a member of the family is getting married, everyone wants to plan it. Honestly, if it weren't for Lavender and all's sheer determination, the whole reception would look like a pink marshmallow infested hell.'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'I won't even ask.'
'And I didn't even mention the enchanted bunny rabbits Aunt Gertha wanted.' Said Ron sighing heavily.
Harry shook his head, stifling a laugh. 'Listen, would Mrs. Weasley have any - easy - recipes that I could borrow?'
'Sure, I suppose.' Said Ron. He narrowed his eyes mock suspiciously, 'Why?'
But Harry was gone.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Harry walked down Diagon Alley, looking a newsstands with magazines splattered with pictures of his long time girlfriend, Hermione.
"People's Choice: Beauty and Brains!" one headline screamed, with a photograph of Hermione wearing a black suit with a tilted top hat with her brownish-blonde curly locks (now considerably tamed) straightened, reclining on a huge blow up globe.
Harry chuckled to himself. 'May I buy this?' he asked her wizened witch behind the stand.
'O' course, Mr. Potter - oh, I can't accept your money - it's on the house!' said the witch.
Harry smiled, but left the money for the magazine, as well as a little more.
'Bye, Mr. Potter!' said the witch frantically as he walked away.
After framing the front cover, he bought a bunch of pretty roses enchanted to sing and made his way to the house they shared with Ron and Lavender - although, they were moving out after they tied the knot in a few weeks.
He walked up to the house and threw open the door. 'Harry!' squealed Hermione, dashing down the stairs. She looked stunning as always, wearing a pretty white shirt and ruffled denim skirt. She jumped into his arms and he spun her around before setting her down.
'Hi sweetheart,' he said tangling a hand in her loose curls and kissing her gently.
'Mmm. . .' said Hermione, hugging him tightly. 'I missed you - oh, Harry!' she cried when she saw the picture and the flowers.
'So did I,' said Harry, releasing her. At that moment, a magic cell phone rang. Both of them immediately reached for the phones.
'Hello?' they both said at the same time.
'Yes, Gary?' Hermione continued as Harry set down his phone. She gestured to Harry, and walked into the kitchen.
The magic cell or mobile phone was one of Hermione adaptations of a muggle object for wizarding use. This was her first, and after that, she went on to actually invent stuff from scratch. It was her that researched an old spell, the spell that would finally kill Voldemort and from the age of sixteen, Hermione was one of the most sought after witches in the world.
'Can you believe it?' whined Hermione. 'Gary had some weird kind of emergency at the office and I need to go. I'm so sorry, Harry.' She said.
'Don't worry about it.' Said Harry, not worried at all. After all, it was his nudging that actually made Hermione need to go to work. He had special plans for her.
Quickly changing into a business suit and securing her hair in a French Twist, she quickly kissed Harry on the cheek and apparated.
Harry kicked off his shoes and made his way to an unfamiliar territory: the kitchen.
While Ron was a fantastic cook and often made the meals of the house, Harry was often employed as the washer of dishes, famous or not. After getting a recipe owled to him by Mrs. Weasley as well as a cheeky note of good luck from Ron, Harry donned a 'Kiss the Chef' apron and began to cook.
Two smashed cartons of eggs later, Harry sank down on her floor in despair. His menu was seemingly simple; tomato soup, pasta, salad, garlic bread, chocolate coated strawberries and cream and finally, a big chocolate cake. And he was determined to do it the hard way.
After accidentally putting sugar instead of salt in the pasta, Harry finally got it right. Placing a heating charm on it, Harry set it aside to start the garlic bread.
Scented with garlic, Harry put the bread beside the pasta and made quite a spectacle of himself chasing the Hermione's much-hated cat, who wouldn't so much as look at anyone except Hermione without snarling or spitting; Harry walked back into the kitchen, now scratched and smelly.
'Harry!' said a Lavender, coming back from work. 'What is that smell?' she said screwing up her nose.
'Um. . .me?' said Harry. Brandishing a wand, Lavender de-smelled him at once.
'What on earth are you doing?' she asked, collecting her things to put upstairs.
'It's a surprise for Hermione!' said Harry proudly.
'Oh!' said Lavender. 'That is too cute! How incredibly romantic of you, Harry.'
'Yep, that's me.' Said Harry swaggering. 'the sensitive new-age guy.'
'Just don't give her food poisoning.' She said, ignoring his last remark.
Harry groaned.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Setting the table, Harry put out the best silverware and put a bunch of roses in the middle of the table. Straightening the tablecloth and adjusting the decorations, Harry turned to his disbelieving audience.
'Impressed?' he said.
'I hate to say it. . .' started Ron.
'. . .but, yeah.' Finished Lavender.
'I can't wait to see her face!' said Ron.
'Actually, Ron, we're going out for dinner tonight.' Said Lavender. Harry smiled at her gratefully.
'Well, then we should go.' Said Ron, cottoning on.
After they had left, Harry changed into a fancy tuxedo and put on the finishing touches.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
'Hello?' said Hermione opening the door. Inside it was all dark.
She turned on the light and gasped. Flowers were everywhere, cascading over the banisters and scattered everywhere. In the middle of the room draped on white leather sofa was a pretty pale pink dress. A note in the shape of a flower was a message written in cursive writing.
"Wear the dress and follow the trail."
Hermione looked around and saw a trail of whole peach roses snaking up the stairs. Slipping on the dress, she walked up wonderingly. On the landing of the stairs was a huge box. She opened it and pulled out smaller box, then another and another, finally pulling out a small leather box.
Tears misting her eyes, she opened it and gulped. It was empty, except for a tiny spool of gold thread which flew into the air and made itself into the shape of a butterfly which fluttered over to the dining room.
She walked into and saw the dining room transformed into a fairy grotto with a table laid with food. There was only soft candlelight, and from around a corner came Harry.
'Oh, Harry!' said Hermione softly, smiling and feeling as though her heart would explode with happiness.
He walked over to her, green eyes shining, his unruly hair as persistently unruly as ever and bent down on one knee before her. Pulling out another box, identical to the one before, he opened it. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it and stood up.
'Ever since we kids, you were there for me. You helped me with Quirrel. You figured out the Basilik. You helped me fly a hippogriff and believed me when I told you that I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire.' A hand slowly wiped away a happy tear which threatened to drop from her cinnamon eyes. 'You helped me find out my past, and then were there in my final duel.'
'You've seen me at my best and my worst, and you've been at my side all the while. Since we graduated I spent four years happy years with you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.
'Will you marry me?'
Hermione smiled, and clasped her hands behind his neck. She kissed him softly, letting her hands run through his hair.
He wanted no other answer.
He slipped the ring on her finger, a gold ring with a pretty diamond and emerald - just the colour of his eyes, Hermione smiled.
'You made dinner?' said Hermione.
Harry nodded. 'Smashed cartons of eggs, smelt like garlic - everything.'
'For me.' She whispered, running a finger along his jawline.
Pushing out a chair for her, Hermione sat down. Harry offered her wine, and they began to eat. Everything was well, and Hermione murmured appreciation for all his hard labour until -
'Harry?'
'Yeah?'
'Did you put the salt instead of sugar in the cake?'
The elegant meal was interrupted with a loud, 'Oh, crap!'
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
They enjoyed ice-cream cones all the same.
A/N: Hope your enjoyed the little cute fic. Maybe I will write the wedding, but maybe not. Review please! Thank you!