Improvisation
Author's Note: Originally published on February 14, 2011
"Bloody hell."
Ron pushed aside the curtain and peered out at the steady rainfall, his heart sinking with each raindrop. The weather had been warm and dry recently, so he'd made some outdoor plans to celebrate Valentine's Day.
Big plans.
The small box was burning a hole in his pocket, and he was determined to follow through with his proposal today. He'd have to think of a different way to ask Hermione to be his wife.
He continued to stare, his mind conjuring a vision of Hermione dancing in the rain, drenched but having the time of her life.
A wet Hermione tempted him greatly.
Inspired, he raced down the stairs of their cozy two-story home and found Hermione cuddled up with some thick, ancient-looking book—a common scene most mornings.
Grabbing it out of her hands, he tossed it onto the unoccupied end of the sofa. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he entwined his fingers with hers and grinned down at her.
"Come and dance?"
His transgression forgotten, she gave him a strange look and nodded as he pulled her up to her feet.
"What has gotten into you, Ron?"
"It's Valentine's Day!"
"I'm aware," she said, a wide smile blossoming across her face at his enthusiasm. "I received a rather large bouquet of flowers at my office yesterday... even though it was a day early."
"I figured that everyone would get flowers today, so I wanted to be different."
"It certainly was, especially when the flowers started singing 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' to me."
"That was George's fault, sorry 'bout that."
"Why am I not surprised? Anyway, you promised me a dance?"
"Right."
He pulled her towards the door to the garden, much to her bewilderment.
"Where are we going?"
"Outside."
"But it's pouring out there!"
"I know."
"At least let... RON!"
The laughter was evident in her screeches of protest as he scooped her up over his shoulder and carried her out the door.
Setting her down gently on the grass, he wrapped his arms around her and slowly began swaying. The water soaked them through as they danced, clothes sticking like a second skin as she rested her head on his chest.
They slowed, as did the rain, and his hands slid up her body, his thumbs softly brushing away rivulets of water flowing down her cheeks.
"You are so beautiful, Hermione."
She blushed prettily. "Thank you, love."
His fingers tangled in her wet hair, their lips meeting in a heated, passionate kiss. As they broke apart, he quietly whispered a phrase he'd been waiting to say for a long time.
"Marry me."
Hermione stared, her eyes wide.
Slicking his hair out of his eyes, Ron got down on one knee in the drenched grass of their garden before fishing the box out of his pocket and presenting her with the ring he'd worked hard to buy.
It was no longer water that was rolling down her rosy cheeks.
"Yes."