Petals Part Deux

(A/N Thank you, kind people who reviewed!! And as for those who didn't, may you be cursed with dreams about mutant bunnies who hate carrots!!!! I added another chapter, because I'm so happy so many people liked my story. This is actually another oneshot, but I added it to this as another chapter, because the content is very alike. Only it's R/Hr instead of LJ. Enjoy!)

You know, after kissing someone once, you generally assume they know you like them. Well, score one for the whole making an ass of u and me thing. It did not work with Ron Weasley.

Sometimes, I wonder what I ever see in him. He is such a thick-headed numbskull! I kissed him! I cried for nights on end when he left! What else does he need, a newspaper headline: HERMIONE LOVES YOU?

Even after the whole battle, there was no immediate boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I had been hopeful at first, but in the midst of all the grieving and sorrow, and the tiredness, I understood how strange it would have been.

But it's been a year exactly since that fateful night, and most people are quite over it. Hogwarts is being rebuilt, and almost everything is back to normal. Harry and Ginny are dating, for goodness' sakes!

And yet, lately, I have barely seen him around. We have Auror training together, but he has barely spoken a word in the last month to me. Harry talks a lot to both of us, but more to Ron, of course. Sometimes, I come into a room, and both of them immediately stop talking, and Ron blushes until his face is the same color as his hair.

Maybe the problem's not him. Maybe it's me. I looked at myself in the mirror in my room. Hmm. I grimaced at my reflection. My hair was all bushy and rumpled as usual. I suppose it was unattractive – wait, no, it was unattractive, but I didn't really have a problem with it, so I had never done anything permanent about it.

My body…well, it did not belong on Witch Weekly, let's just say that. I didn't have a belly, or anything, but I was very flat in an area you shouldn't be flat in. I was very gawky, I suppose.

I scowled at the mirror, and stomped out of the house. I didn't like examining myself like a mind-washed 13year old. It wasn't my fault Ron was incredibly dense!

I mean, the way he thought I liked Harry! When did I ever show any sign of love for Harry? And why would I have been jealous of Lavender if I didn't like him?

I flung myself down on my garden bench. I had been quite lucky to find a place like this. It was only a short distance from Grimmauld Place where the boys lived, and I really liked this private garden. I especially loved the red roses; they always smell so much better than the other flowers.

I plucked one rose now, and held it to my nose. The sweet scent traveled through my nose into my brain, soothing me down a little. I already knew from experience trying to ignore thoughts of Ron never worked, and it was annoying me worse than a mosquito. I had to find out whether he loved me too, or else I might go crazy.

What if he didn't love me, and I told him? How humiliating it would be! My face was blushing at the very thought. It was safest not to tell him anything. The safest course of action, but how long would I be able to stand being around him like that?

Maybe the best option would be to get a job far away, in a place like America, or Australia, and go away for ever. I felt my heart sink at the prospect, but it was clear even to me this was the best path for me to take.

I bit my lip in uncertainty, rolling the stalk of the rose between my palms. I looked at the red petals, and an absolutely crazy idea crossed my mind. I had read about it in so many books, and heard about it constantly from Parvati and Lavender, but the thought of actually trying it had never occurred to me.

Apparently, Muggle girls always tried plucking flower petals off flowers to see if the person they like loves them back. With each petal they pluck off, they whisper "He loves me," and then for the next petal, they whisper "He loves me not". What you say as you tear off the last petal is the answer. It was supposed to be a very accurate way of telling feelings. It's fascinating, you know, the way Muggles manage without magic

I had, of course, never tried it before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I took a deep breath, preparing to mutilate my rose. I carefully plucked off one petal, wincing as I did so. "He loves me", I clearly recited.

This was stupid, I decided. I felt dumb talking to myself. But I supposed it was worth it to know Ron's feelings. Maybe I should just think it in my head. I plucked off another petal. He loves me not.

I went on, all the way through the rose. The bench and the ground was strewn with rose petals. There was only one petal left on the rose. And I knew what it would say. Mentally preparing myself, I plucked it off, and thought, He loves me not.

This settles it. He didn't love me. I flung the stem away from me in anger. He didn't love me. I had to face it. He didn't love me. America was a good idea. I would go, forget Ron, start fresh. I mean, he didn't love me.

A tap at my shoulder startled me. I squeaked, turning, to meet a familiar pair of brown eyes, staring at me concernedly.

"Oh, it's you, Ron" Why did my voice have to sound so strained, like I had a bad cold?

"Er…yes. It's me." He looked so sheepish, sort of nervous. He scuffed a toe behind his leg, rubbing it into the ground. I scrutinized him closely. He looked really good today. He had a new shirt on, I could tell. He had forgotten to take the tag out.

I suppose it was a good last memory of him. Why was he here, anyway? Wasn't he supposed to be ignoring me?

Suddenly, I realized he had started talking. "… saw the door was open, and I came in, I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no." I replied dully. "It's fine." I suppose any other time I might have given him a lecture about how improper it was, but I didn't feel like it today.

Abruptly, he dropped onto one knee. My eyebrows shot up, and my first thought was that he had fallen sick or something. But then, I saw him hastily grab a rose from my bush, and I knew he was fine. But what was he doing? He couldn't be –

"Er – Hermione?" Ron was looking up at me, holding out the rose. My mind went numb, and I couldn't think properly. "Hermione, I – I love you. I really, really love you. Will you m - marry me?"

My jaw dropped at the last line. It had been so unexpected! A smile began to break out on my face. And to think I had hurt my flowers, to find out something untrue! I began to laugh hysterically.

I couldn't help it, it was too funny! But I stopped short when I saw Ron's face. It was crestfallen, hurt, humiliated and ashamed. I suddenly realized what he was thinking, and the situation seemed even more hilarious. I began to laugh again.

Ron got up stiffly. "Right, then,", he said shortly.

That stopped me for a second. "No, no, Ron, I'm not laughing at that! It's just – ", and between bursts of chuckles, I told him about the whole story of the flower.

He blinked for a few seconds. "So you pulled petals off the roses to find out whether I like you?"

I nodded, grinning.

Ron frowned, trying to absorb that. "So…you like me?"

I stared at him in my special, reserved-for-Ron, are-you-really-that-thick look. "Ron," I said slowly. "I love you. I have since…well, a really, really long time."

Then, he smiled, and I figured out why I loved him. "So you'll marry me?"

I smiled at the word. Taking a deep breath, I stated simply, "Yes."

And we smiled at each other.

For a really long time.

What is supposed to happen next?

And then, Ron asked, a little uncomfortably, "But why didn't the petals work?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? It's probably just another one of those silly superstitions."

But Ron wasn't listening. Grinning happily, he told me, "Wait till I tell Harry! Ha! I wonder whether he'll get a yes, too. He's proposing to Ginny today, you know."

I gasped loudly at the news. "They're getting married?"

"If Ginny says yes, yeah! We might have a joint wedding. We spent months preparing ourselves to ask you guys. I was so scared you were going to say no! And when you started laughing, well, I got so embarrassed! I thought you were laughing at me!"

"Ron, I've loved you for years! Honestly, you are so dense sometimes!", I exclaimed indignantly

"So you actually love me?", Ron asked me again, looking into my eyes intensely. The distance between us grew smaller, and my heart started pounding loudly.

"You know, when a girl kisses you, it's safe to assume they love you." I rolled my eyes, even though my tongue had gone dry.

"You could assume the same thing when a boy kisses you", he whispered, just before his lips met mine.

(A/N Hope you liked it! R&R, everyone)