Chapter 1

Ron reached into his pocket for perhaps the millionth time that evening. He was growing incredibly paranoid, he thought as he flattened his hair nervously, but with due reason. He wanted the evening to go as smoothly as possible - hopefully he would only have to do this once, and he didn't want any hitches...

Hermione was still shut up in the bathroom, primping furiously, so he chanced his bets and pulled the ring out of his pocket. There had been a great deal of debate over which ring he should pick. He wanted to get her the most expensive one in his price-range, a multi-coloured gem-encrusted sparkler which was very expensive, and therefore obviously the best. Ginny, however, was not so keen - she thought that Hermione might prefer a more modest diamond solitaire. A forty-minute argument had ensued between them, eventually being settled with a compromise - a diamond with a sapphire set on each side. Ron flicked open the box and gazed admiringly at the ring glittering back at him - he was glad he had asked Ginny's advice. He wanted everything about his proposal to be perfect, and that included the ring.

He had the perfect plan for the evening - drinks in a really fancy bar, followed by a play at a Muggle theatre in Central London which he knew Hermione wanted to see, then dinner at Café de L'Amour, a restaurant in Diagon Alley where they always went on special occasions. They would have their favourite meals, then a bottle of the best wine, and just before they served dessert he would get down on one knee and propose with his perfect ring. This was going to be the best night of his life...

He looked at the clock before letting out a gasp of horror. "Oh my God!" he yelled. "We're an hour late! We're going to miss the start of the play!"

"WHAT?" Hermione exclaimed, popping her head around the door.

"We've got to hurry!" Ron said, pulling on his coat. "We're too late for drinks - come on!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" Hermione said, slipping on her shoes and hurtling out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.

She shot up behind Ron, who was flinging a handful of Floo Powder into the communal fireplace in the front hallway. He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her into the glittering green flames, before yelling "The Princess and the Pea!"

Moments later the two lovers appeared in the fireplace at the entrance of The Princess and the Pea, where Ron instantly shot out of the fireplace and began running, hauling Hermione along behind him. Scratch the drinks, he thought as he hurtled along the pavement. They were twenty blocks away from the theatre- if they ran they'd just be able to catch the start of the show...

Hermione and Ron marched away from the theatre, bickering amongst themselves.

"I can't believe you forgot the tickets!" Ron moaned irritably at Hermione, his ears red at the memories of the laughing staff.

"Well, you hauled me out of the flat so fast that I didn't have time to get my bag!" Hermione snapped back, before whispering, "Besides, now we're really stuck. We're in Muggle London, so there's no place to Floo and all my money and our wands are in my bag at home, which means it's too risky to Apparate in case we get stuck!"

"We'll just have to walk then, won't we?" Ron said, taking her arm and swerving down a smaller, almost completely deserted side street. "It's not that far to Diagon Alley, and there's a shortcut through the residential area."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said, forcing a smile. Ron had put so much effort into planning a romantic evening- it wasn't his fault that it had gone wrong, so she really shouldn't spoil it by sulking.

A bus drove by, splattering the pair with mud and gunk from head to foot. They stood there in shocked silence for a few seconds before Ron took off his right shoe and hurled it at the speeding bus in a fit of rage. The shoe disappeared off into the darkness, leaving Ron muddy, furious and with only one shoe, making walking somewhat of a challenge. He flung himself down on the curbside with an enraged grunt and folded his arms across his chest. Hermione crouched down beside him.

"It's okay, Ron," she said calmly, putting a comforting arm around his shoulder - she had decided that scolding him for losing his temper would be of no benefit whatsoever. "It's not your fault that things went wrong. It's just bad luck."

Ron felt all of his anger melt away. "Everything's collapsed," he sighed. "I had the perfect evening planned, everything organised, and one by one all of the screws have fallen out. We miss the drinks, forget the tickets and end up stranded in Muggle London, late at night, covered in mud with no money and only three shoes between us. This is the worst night out of my life."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box and flipped it open. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me," Ron repeated.

Hermione stared at him as though he was speaking Mermish, before saying "Why? Why would you want to marry me?"

"How about because I love you?" Ron said, moving in closer. His hands were trembling with nerves. "Or how about because, even coated in mud, with moldy leaves in your hair, you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Or how about the fact that I've spent the whole evening acting like an irrational, disorganized, stupid wanker and you still haven't dumped me, which, believe me, you are perfectly within your rights to do? Are those good enough reasons?" He paused for a few seconds to catch his breath, before asking "So will you? Will you marry me?"

Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. Ron's stomach was rapidly trying to exit his body, along with almost every other vital organ that he owned. The next few seconds felt like an eternity, before Hermione finally broke the silence with one syllable which rang in Ron's ears for the next few weeks.

"Yes."