Chapter 1

The stone sparkled under fluorescent bulbs, glowing despite the unnatural spotlight.  A man in his mid-20's smiled and pointed, "This one, Ma'am."

"A teardrop, Ron?"

Ronald Weasley and his soon to be brother-in-law Harry Potter stood in front of a glass counter filled with diamond rings.  It was a contrasting scene, a firebrand fidgeting with his wallet while his best friend leaned back nonchalantly.

"It seems fitting..." Ron trailed off, "Did you know she has this—birthmark, I guess—in the shape of a teardrop between her breasts?"

"No, but only you would know something like that, wouldn't you?" Harry winked and laughed at his friend's creeping blush.

The clerk returned with a small, wrapped box.  As Ron paid, she remarked with a smile, "She must be quite the girl."

Both boys grinned.

"Yes.  Hermione Granger is quite the girl."

:

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"Green tea, please."

It was four o'clock on a Friday afternoon, and the quaint café on 5th Avenue held few customers. It was a perfect, quiet repose for Hermione Granger, executive director of Tomorrow, Tomorrow, the reigning technology tycoon of the muggle world.  Hermione took an early leave from the bustling office, complaining that a noisy environment brew unproductivity, and brought her work to the café across the street.  Despite being seated at a table for four, she had no other company besides papers to be perused, files to be organized, and envelopes to be opened.  It was a busy life she led, and she would have it no other way.

Removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes, she thanked the waitress for the tea and stared at the opened file grasped in her hands.

Sussex Press, September 15

Pearl Abbott of Cambridge University, England has claimed that the future will not be defined by new sources of energy or celestial places of living, but instead, by what we expect the least: nanotechnology.

"It's not about looking abroad anymore; it's not about living large.  We're looking at what can't be seen—the miniscule, the microscopic.  The point is that we are made up of Mother Nature's own nanotechnology, cells, and if we can harvest that same machinery, then we wouldn't need to develop cloning techniques!  We'd just make things from scratch ourselves!"

The Boston Globe, September 22

The most feared killers of mankind, scientists theorize, are the least visible: viruses.  These microscopic murderers aren't animals that we can simply kill or cage.  They are as dangerous as humans, having the assets any power-hungry dictator would want:  regeneration, the ability to shape shift, highly contagious attributes, and the characteristic of never getting captured.

Tami Chiang of Harvard University has compiled a list of the most potent viruses of today, warning the populace of their incurable properties:

...

Hermione sighed.  While the listed viruses were fatal to humans, they were nothing a proper spell or potion couldn't cure.  Frustration was settling upon her, and as she looked around at her muggle surroundings, she had to force herself to remember why exactly she turned down a job offer at the Ministry. 

'Oh, yeah.  Because nine years of this War has brought nothing but casualties and stalemates,' she noted wryly.

The Ministry's forces were dwindling, and it apparently had no more plan Bs to tip the scales.  Knowing the Light side's hopelessness, she turned to the power of muggles for aid.  Even though they were the cause of this war and the ultimate victims, Hermione saw them as the untapped resource and most probably, the deciding factor between victor and loser.  So she enrolled in a muggle university immediately after graduation and steadily worked her way into success, heading the strongest branch of muggles' greatest forte: science and technology.  For days and days, she collected articles and newspaper clippings, recorded television broadcasts and radio interviews, and dug up any useful information that could help win the war.  In her idealized theory, Hermione hoped that some virus or machine could cripple the Dark side like mumps had traumatized the Dark Lord.

And this nanotechnology seemed like something worth looking into.

"Beep beep!"

Her cell phone had just vibrated, and glancing at its clock, Hermione realized that her two hours of pondering brought her to a late date with the crew.  Hastily, she cleaned up her table, gulped down her tea, dropped a tip, and rushed out of there with a single thought in mind.

'Ginny's going to kill me!'

:

"Hermione Eleanor Granger!  I'm going to kill you!"

Sighing at an obviously impatient Virginia Weasley, Hermione opened her mouth in defense—

"I know, I know!  You were caught up with work!  Yes, I've heard it all."

Closing her mouth, she frowned, but realized that if Ginny knew what her excuses were going to be anyway, then she knew what her lectures were going to be too.

"Heard it all, eh?  Then I've heard all the 'You work too much, Mione.' lectures as well," she countered with a smirk.  "Just tell me, when are the guys going to be here?"

"Half an hour.  I told them we're going to need more time, so they should run by later."

"I'm sure it's not hard for them to be running late," Hermione said with a grin.

Laughing, her best friend grinned back and said, "Come on, let's go find something for you to wear."

An hour and three outfits later, Hermione and Ginny walked into the living room where their respective boyfriends were pacing.

"Ginny!  You look great!" Harry exclaimed.  She was sporting a V-neck dress patterned with a large embroidered rose.

"You look really nice too, Mione," Ron admired.  A dark blue dress that flared slightly at the hem hung on her frame.

Ginny grinned while Hermione blushed, and both were escorted outside on their gentlemen's arms.

"Where are we going?" Hermione questioned as she noticed Ginny and Harry veering away.

"Um...well..." Ron started out.

"We decided that as much as double dates are fun, I think we need some alone time," Harry interrupted.

"Alone time?" Ginny raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Ginny!"

"Haha!  Don't worry, Ron.  Your sister is safe with me."

"Safe with you?  What about your safety with her?"

Laughing, Hermione squeezed her boyfriend's arm and attempted to calm him, "Ron, relax.  I'm sure they will be fine, just as we will be fine."  She smiled to support him, and he looked at her with an equally appreciative gaze.

"Ok!" Ginny interrupted. "Then I guess I'll see you later, Mione!"

The quartet waved their goodbyes, and as one Gryffindor couple moved towards the car, Hermione and Ron continued on the sidewalk.  He explained that since he and Harry already had this planned, they were going to continue with the dinner reservations while Harry and Gin found their own interlude.

:

It was a beautiful date at a beautiful restaurant on a beautiful night.  Ronald Weasley couldn't believe his luck at how perfect the evening was progressing, and he prayed to Merlin that it would end just as perfectly.

Merlin wasn't listening that night.

The couple was settled at a cleared table, and all that stood between them were two glasses of champagne and a candle.  Hermione was smiling wistfully while swirling her drink, causing Ron to breathe deeply and exhale loudly at the sight of her perfection.  Somehow, he doubted that the alcohol was what caused her to look so enchanting behind a halo of light and against a sky of stars.

'Deep breaths, Ron.  Deep breaths...'

"Hermione?"

She looked up with that same comforting smile, brown eyes attentive.

Ron slid to one knee.

Her smile fell to parted lips, and her eyes widened with greater attention.

A black velvet box, unmistakably square, was revealed in his hands, and his fingers slowly snapped it open.

"Hermione Granger..."

To live, a girl needs her heart to be beating and her lungs to be breathing, but there are always moments like this when air falls second to a person's heart.

"...will you marry me?"