(To the tune of "Ode to Joy"….more or less)
Joyful joyful I am joyful
Something something purple!
Joyful joyful I am joyful
Puppies and candy on a stick
Rupert Grint makes me so happy
And fan fiction does too!
But right now I am not happy
So will you please just review!
That night at dinner the only person talking was Fleur. She chatted away happily about the wedding which was fast approaching. Mrs. Weasley alternated between listening intently to Fleur and glaring at Fred and George who were unusually quiet, glancing at Harry every so often apologetically. That night before dinner, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione all watched with stern looks as Fred and George apologized glumly to Harry. Although Harry had already forgiven them, the three women didn't seem nearly as gracious.
However, at that moment, Hermione didn't seem to remember her anger towards the twins. She smiled shyly up at Ron whose knee was touching hers under the table. He gave her a lopsided grin back that made him seem more confident, but his pink ears gave him away. She moved her leg slightly so that their legs were now touching completely from the knee down, her right side tingled and her stomach did flip flops. Ron's grin grew ever wider. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear. "Listen, I've been thinking about something that I'd really like to tell you. Meet me in the garden after dinner." Hermione grinned and nodded slightly.
Hermione and Ron weren't the only two people anxiously awaiting the end of dinner. On the other side of Hermione, Ginny sat, feeling nervous, deciding what to say to Harry in her head. Harry, I know you're trying to protect me…but I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. That's why-no…I mean I think I'm going to- She sighed. I'm going with you and Ron and Hermione. I'm not going to take no for an answer. She nodded to herself, glance over at Harry who was staring down at his plate, deep in thought, and finished her dinner.
After quickly eating some dessert, Ron pushed back his chair. He mumbled an excuse and then strode out into the garden. He shivered in the night's cool breeze. He sat on a swing, patiently waiting for Hermione. He smiled to himself, remembering summer days he, Hermione, and Harry had spent playing Quiddtich and lounging in the grass. Now they were going to fight Voldemort and possibly get killed. Not that their lives together had always been care free...but this was serious. What if one of them was hurt? I have to tell her. If this is my last chance to get my feelings out then I have to grab it. What would I do if one of us dies and I never got to tell her? He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up straighter. I won't let that happen. I will never let her get hurt. I will spend the rest of my life protecting my Hermione.