Standard disclaimers apply!
I do not own Harry Potter. I have nothing to do with Scholastic, Warner Bros or Bloomsbury. I'm not JKR and I am certainly not making any profit out of this.
27th December, 1998
Hermione Jean Granger. Book lover. Model student. Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1998-1999. War Veteran. One of The Three. Holder of The Fawkes Medal. Order of Merlin, First Class.
Ronald Bilius Weasley. Chess lover. Average student. Reluctant Gryffindor Prefect, 1995-1997. War Veteran. One of The Three. Holder of The Fawkes Medal. Order of Merlin, First Class.
Two normal people, sprawled comfortably on the bed in the top room of The Burrow, wondering how to go about things.
"So are we going to tell them or what?" Ron aimed his wand at a crack in the ceiling and shot off a quick spell. The crack only sealed half way, so he tried again. Success. "Good spell that one; I'll have to remember it for the house."
"I don't know." Hermione closed her book and let it fall to the floor with a thud. "Part of me wants to keep it to myself." She twisted round and leaned up on one elbow so she could see his face, and was rewarded with a lazy smile. "A happy secret I can pull out and look at when I'm back at school. Is that silly?"
"Nah, that's not silly," he absently twirled a lock of her hair around his little finger, "I'll be doing the same thing. What about the other part?"
"The other part," Hermione giggled, "wants to put a full page announcement in every damn newspaper in the country just so everyone knows who happy I am."
"And here I was just wanting to shout it from the rooftops and all that," Ron laughed.
"Well have to tell them eventually."
"Not yet," he pulled her closer. "Let's save the shouting for another day ... or we could just send out invitations a couple of weeks before, technically that's telling them."
"Your Mum would kill us!"
"Wouldn't she just!" Ron sniggered. "I suppose we really shouldn't deny her the pleasure of organising something."
"I wouldn't dare," Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck, "can you imagine?"
"All too well. That means eloping is out of the question," Ron snorted.
"Completely," she agreed. "There is something we can do now though!"
"What?"
"Get up!" Rolling off the bed, despite his grumbled protests, she held out her hand and then pulled him up with her. "Get flying clothes on and meet me by the broom shed in five minutes."
oOo
Ron waited until she was settled comfortably behind him and holding on tightly before he kicked off. "Where are we going?"
"Head for Bude," she stated baldly.
"Bude?" He twisted around to gape at her and the broom dropped sharply, eliciting a squeak of alarm from Hermione. "Sorry love, but WHAT? That's hours away."
"That's why I asked Harry if we could borrow the Firebolt," she told him.
oOo
"Down there alright?" Ron yelled, not entire sure if Hermione could even hear him through the rushing wind surrounding them, and the scarf he had wrapped around his face. She must have done though, because he felt her nod against his back; so he eased down carefully, all the while keep a look out for hiking muggles, and came down with a soft landing beside a straggly clump of bushes. "This is great!"
"Isn't it beautiful," she pulled her own scarf down t her throat and took in a deep breath of the frozen, salty air. "Even better, feel free to shout!"
"You are mental!" Ron laughed. "Utterly, completely mental!"
"Shall I take that as a compliment?"
"Absolutely," he nodded enthusiastically and hugged her to him, then turned to the vast ocean.
"WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!"
"Feel better now?"
"Just about," he was fishing around in his coat pocket. "There's one more thing that needs doing. Got it." He thrust a small purple box into her gloved hand. "It's not technically an engagement ring, but I think you'll like it."
Hermione laughed as she opened the box. "You're unbelievable, you are!" She pulled the glove of her left hand with her teeth and passed the now open box back to him. "You should do the thing right and put it on me."
"Happy to ... hang on a minute, if we're going to do this properly we might as well go the whole hog." He dropped to one knee, held out the box and effected a solemn expression. "Hermione Granger."
"Ron," she giggled, "really ..."
"Hush," he scolded gently, valiantly trying to keep from laughing. "I'm trying to be mature and romantic here!" Clearing his throat loudly, he started again. "Hermione Granger. I love you so much I can't even believe it myself. Would you do me the honour of being my wife and putting up with me for the rest of our natural lives, and even after that?"
"Forever and ever, amen," she promised, feeling oddly teary as he slid the ring onto her finger.
"Good. Now can you help me up?" He grimaced. "I banged my knee on a rock."
"Goose," she chortled, pulling on his arm.
"Thanks." He shook his leg around experimentally and pulled a face. "It's a bit big, isn't it." He wiggled the ring around her finger. "I can fix that if you like; but it's really supposed to be a dressing up ring."
"Well now it's my engagement ring, so if you can make it fit? When was I supposed to get it, really?" She watched, fascinated, as he turned her hand palm up and touched the tip of his wand to the band. "And how do you know how to do that?"
"So many questions," he smiled as he turned her hand back around and looked at it. "It was going to be for Easter, to go with the necklace and bracelet. Fleur showed me the spell when she went with me to buy them."
"I'll have to remember to thank her," she murmured, brushing her finger gently over the sparkling stones, "and I'm going to hate taking it off. I suppose I can put it on a chain around my neck, but it's not quite the same thing."
"Oh well. Don't worry about that now, there's no one here to see it anyway." He handed her back her glove. "Better put that back on though, it's freezing."
"I've got a better idea," she raised her eyebrows and took off the other glove.
Ron knew that look. "You're brilliant, you are. It has been a while since we've been outside."
oOo
Molly and Arthur were standing by the sink peeling potatoes for dinner when Ron and Hermione flew back into the garden. They landed with a thud, both of them covered in snow and laughing hysterically.
Silly children, flying on a day like this. "Ron and Hermione are back," she said casually.
"Righto," Arthur glanced up from his work. "Just in time to clean up before dinner."
"They'll have a bit of clean up to do," she laughed, "covered in all that snow. Merlin knows where they've been."
"Snow? It didn't snow today, did it?"
"Not anywhere near here," Molly shrugged. Just as she was about to return her attention to dinner, a bright flash of light caught her eye. "What was that?"
"What was what, dear?" Arthur squinted. "Hmph. Need new glasses."
"Never mind, I must have imagined it." But she knew she hadn't, and her suspicions were confirmed when Ron and Hermione came bounding through the back door cheerfully. As if they didn't have a care in the world, until they saw Molly and Arthur standing by the window. She could have almost laughed at the looks on their faces. What have you two been up to? Although they covered up quickly enough. Well, Hermione did ... there wasn't much Ron could do with those Weasley ears of his.
"Hello dears," Molly said mildly, "hurry upstairs to put on some dry clothes, and then could you call Harry and Ginny for dinner?"
oOo
"Don't be silly Mollywobbles," Arthur laughed, "they were probably just off somewhere having sex."
"Rubbish," she snorted, "they're always doing that. I'm telling you, they've gone off and got married."
"I'm quite sure they would have mentioned it," Arthur pointed out, sliding into bed next to his wife and taking off his glasses. "They both know perfectly well that you'd skin them alive if they didn't."
"Hm. You have a point. But they've still been up to something more than the usual roll in the hay ... or snow, as the case may be."
"What makes you think that?"
"I know what I saw! When they were playing around outside there was a flash of light, and it came from Hermione's hand. Ohhhh." Molly burst into sudden laughter.
"Ohhhh?" Arthur put his glasses back on. It was just much easier to talk that way.
"It was an engagement ring!"
"Oh, bloody hell." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Tell me you're joking."
"What?"
"They're far too young to get married!" Taking off his glasses, again, he rubbed his face.
"They're the same age as we were when we got engaged," she pointed out.
"Totally different," he mumbled, "not the same thing at all."
"How do you come to that conclusion?" Molly asked sharply.
"It just isn't," he scowled. "They're supposed to be doing stupid young people things, not running around being responsible."
"I don't believe you!" Molly slapped his arm. Hard. "You're perfectly happy for them to live together like a married couple, as long as they don't actually get married? How is it any different?"
"It's different," Arthur snapped, "because Ron is our youngest son and it makes me feel like an old man."
"Oh, now you're just being ridiculous!" Molly sniggered.
"So?" Arthur folded his arms. "I can be ridiculous if I like."
"Clearly," Molly's lips twitched.
"You didn't have to agree with me." Arthur pulled a face. "What you're supposed to say is 'It's OK Arthur, you're not an old man yet, I still love you!'"
"Oh for goodness bloody sake!" Molly rolled her eyes and sighed. "It's OK Arthur, you're not an old man yet, I still love you. Is that better?"
"You could say it like you actually mean it," he grumbled.
"Oh, come here you silly old man," she gathered him in her arms and hugged him tightly. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Wild hot sex?" Arthur suggested hopefully.
"Only if you promise me that you'll be happy for them when they finally get around to telling us."
"Alright, I can do that," he laughed. "We've had this conversation before."
"Yes we have, and I was completely wrong. So no trying to talk them out of it!" She waggled her finger at him.
"OK, I'll behave. But you'll have to keep on reminding me that I'm not an ancient old fart with dodgy knees and no lead in his pencil."
"I can do that."
Ooops! I'm really pushing the Molly and Arthur angle, aye? LOL. Sorry, it just sort of happened!