Ron's Birthday Wish
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Disclaimer: I'm currently convincing JKR to leave these characters to me in her will.
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Ron, Harry and Ginny were lying on the floor, each with their own separate thoughts tumbling through their heads.
Ron had moved on from considering different ways to kill his ex-best friend, and was now wondering what he should have for breakfast. Harry was wondering how on earth to get out of this engagement. Ginny was wondering whether Harry would like her hair better up or down for the wedding. She was just about to ask him, when they heard the front door slam.
All three got up and peered down the hallway. There was no one there. Ron looked in his room to see if the noise had woken Hermione up.
There was no one there. Hermione had gone.
oOo
At work on Monday, Hermione was noticeably distracted. It wasn't until she screwed up her 9th piece of parchment, threw it in the wastepaper bin and then set fire to it, that the other workaholics in her department realised something was probably wrong.
"Hermione," said Lemon, a short, plump witch in tie-dyed robes, tortoiseshell glasses and a 'Save the Dragons' t-shirt. "Is something the matter?"
Hermione sighed irritably.
"It's this boy," she said.
"Do you like him? Is he good-looking? Is he rich? What sort of broom does he have? What are his thoughts on the 'Save the Dragons' proposal?"
"Er. . ." Hermione chose to avoid those questions. "You see, the thing is, he likes me. But he doesn't know I know. I read his diary you see."
Lemon looked slightly scandalised.
"He *likes* you?"
"Apparently."
"Do you like him?"
"Er. . . you see. That's the thing. I've never really thought of him as more than a good friend. A completely mad friend, yes, but a good one."
"Oh. And now?"
"Now. . . I dunno. . . maybe. . ."
oOo
George walked into Ron and Harry's flat late Wednesday afternoon, carrying Fred the Frog in a glass jar.
"I've decided," he announced. "That I rather like Fred in this form, and I shan't be taking him to the doctor."
Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows.
"He's blue," said Harry bluntly.
"And slimy," Ron pointed out.
"Yes. I think it quite becomes him."
Fred croaked loudly, possibly agreeing with his twin. He could, of course, have been disagreeing or talking about a different subject all together, but George chose not to consider these options.
"*Anyway*," continued George. "What we've really come around for is to show you the video we made from last Friday. Well, when I say *we*, I really mean *me* as Fred can't hold the camera any more. But he was there."
George put the tape labelled 'Harry Proposes' into the VCR and turned the TV on.
"Er. . . do I really want to see this? It's bad enough just remembering it. . ."
"Of course you do. It's really quite interesting."
George pushed play and the TV screen fuzzed to life. The camera work was very wobbly (probably owing to all the cocktails George had consumed that evening), but Harry was clearly identifiable. He was kneeling in front on Ginny, holding her hand.
"Ron," he slurred. "Is that you?"
"No, Harry, it's me - Ginny," she giggled, blushing.
"Ron. I think we should get married. Will you marry me?"
"I'm Ginny, Harry. And YES! I *will* marry you!"
Ron and Harry looked at each other.
"You didn't propose to Ginny! You proposed to me!"
~*~
Hermione paced around her room.
How on earth was she going to face Ron now?
Sure, he didn't know she knew. . . and that was good. She could just pretend she had never read his diary. . . yes, that was a good idea.
But. . . what if she didn't want to pretend? What if, perhaps, she DID like him. . .
Did she?
Hermione thought back over the 10 years she had known him. . . the arguments, the talks, the laughs. . . she saw it all in a new light now? How long had he liked her?
How long had she liked him?
~*~
"Gods, Harry. You thought you were proposing to me."
Harry's eyes lit up.
"I didn't propose to her! I don't have to marry her! I love you, George!" Harry ran up and ecstatically ran around the room like an escaped lunatic. "This is the best day of my life! Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!" He picked up Fred's jar and shook it. "I didn't propose to her! I DIDN'T PROPOSE TO HER!!!"
Still singing, Harry danced out of the room. Ron looked at George.
"You knew that the whole time didn't you?"
"Hell yes. Of course I did. But wasn't it funny watching him squirm?"
"Bags not telling Ginny."
"Er. Yeah. Harry can do that for himself."
"Harry can do what?"
Ron and George turned around to see who had just entered the room. It was Ginny, her arms full of bridal magazines, swatches of fabric and samples of wedding cake.
"Er. . . Harry has something to tell you. . ."
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Disclaimer: I'm currently convincing JKR to leave these characters to me in her will.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Ron, Harry and Ginny were lying on the floor, each with their own separate thoughts tumbling through their heads.
Ron had moved on from considering different ways to kill his ex-best friend, and was now wondering what he should have for breakfast. Harry was wondering how on earth to get out of this engagement. Ginny was wondering whether Harry would like her hair better up or down for the wedding. She was just about to ask him, when they heard the front door slam.
All three got up and peered down the hallway. There was no one there. Ron looked in his room to see if the noise had woken Hermione up.
There was no one there. Hermione had gone.
oOo
At work on Monday, Hermione was noticeably distracted. It wasn't until she screwed up her 9th piece of parchment, threw it in the wastepaper bin and then set fire to it, that the other workaholics in her department realised something was probably wrong.
"Hermione," said Lemon, a short, plump witch in tie-dyed robes, tortoiseshell glasses and a 'Save the Dragons' t-shirt. "Is something the matter?"
Hermione sighed irritably.
"It's this boy," she said.
"Do you like him? Is he good-looking? Is he rich? What sort of broom does he have? What are his thoughts on the 'Save the Dragons' proposal?"
"Er. . ." Hermione chose to avoid those questions. "You see, the thing is, he likes me. But he doesn't know I know. I read his diary you see."
Lemon looked slightly scandalised.
"He *likes* you?"
"Apparently."
"Do you like him?"
"Er. . . you see. That's the thing. I've never really thought of him as more than a good friend. A completely mad friend, yes, but a good one."
"Oh. And now?"
"Now. . . I dunno. . . maybe. . ."
oOo
George walked into Ron and Harry's flat late Wednesday afternoon, carrying Fred the Frog in a glass jar.
"I've decided," he announced. "That I rather like Fred in this form, and I shan't be taking him to the doctor."
Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows.
"He's blue," said Harry bluntly.
"And slimy," Ron pointed out.
"Yes. I think it quite becomes him."
Fred croaked loudly, possibly agreeing with his twin. He could, of course, have been disagreeing or talking about a different subject all together, but George chose not to consider these options.
"*Anyway*," continued George. "What we've really come around for is to show you the video we made from last Friday. Well, when I say *we*, I really mean *me* as Fred can't hold the camera any more. But he was there."
George put the tape labelled 'Harry Proposes' into the VCR and turned the TV on.
"Er. . . do I really want to see this? It's bad enough just remembering it. . ."
"Of course you do. It's really quite interesting."
George pushed play and the TV screen fuzzed to life. The camera work was very wobbly (probably owing to all the cocktails George had consumed that evening), but Harry was clearly identifiable. He was kneeling in front on Ginny, holding her hand.
"Ron," he slurred. "Is that you?"
"No, Harry, it's me - Ginny," she giggled, blushing.
"Ron. I think we should get married. Will you marry me?"
"I'm Ginny, Harry. And YES! I *will* marry you!"
Ron and Harry looked at each other.
"You didn't propose to Ginny! You proposed to me!"
~*~
Hermione paced around her room.
How on earth was she going to face Ron now?
Sure, he didn't know she knew. . . and that was good. She could just pretend she had never read his diary. . . yes, that was a good idea.
But. . . what if she didn't want to pretend? What if, perhaps, she DID like him. . .
Did she?
Hermione thought back over the 10 years she had known him. . . the arguments, the talks, the laughs. . . she saw it all in a new light now? How long had he liked her?
How long had she liked him?
~*~
"Gods, Harry. You thought you were proposing to me."
Harry's eyes lit up.
"I didn't propose to her! I don't have to marry her! I love you, George!" Harry ran up and ecstatically ran around the room like an escaped lunatic. "This is the best day of my life! Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!" He picked up Fred's jar and shook it. "I didn't propose to her! I DIDN'T PROPOSE TO HER!!!"
Still singing, Harry danced out of the room. Ron looked at George.
"You knew that the whole time didn't you?"
"Hell yes. Of course I did. But wasn't it funny watching him squirm?"
"Bags not telling Ginny."
"Er. Yeah. Harry can do that for himself."
"Harry can do what?"
Ron and George turned around to see who had just entered the room. It was Ginny, her arms full of bridal magazines, swatches of fabric and samples of wedding cake.
"Er. . . Harry has something to tell you. . ."