For Valentine's Day, or as I like to call it, OTP Day, I offered to take prompts+ships and write drabbles for them. I got three and all of them were for Ron and Hermione so... yay!

This was actually the last one I posted, but the first I got beta-read, so here you go! Thanks to ftlhasthetardis for beta-reading this-all the leftover mistakes are mine. Rating is for dirtee words (I really do suck at this game, like Hermione, don't judge me) and mentions of sexy times.

Disclaimer: I don't think you'd mistake me for JK Rowling, but just in case, you know...

Conversation hearts

'Your turn,' Ron said, and tossed her the round, pastel-coloured sweet. Hermione caught it and thought before making her move.

They were sprawled facing each other on opposite sides of the bed, sheets tangled around their legs; Hermione leaned back against the headboard while Ron was half-lying on his side at the foot of the bed, propped up on one elbow. And it was Valentine's Day, but they had been close to forgetting about that.

When Ron arrived the night before after being on a three-day long mission, he had found her agonizing over a giant book; the part of her that desperately needed to sleep fighting the part that needed him back in order to do so. They had kissed thoroughly, but that was it: the exhaustion of Ron's three days of keeping watches and physical strain were matched by Hermione's three days of overworking and tossing around in bed. They couldn't stay awake another minute.

They had woken up that Sunday at 2 P.M., starving but happy to be next to each other after a good night's rest, and only after their improvised lunch had they realized what day it was.

As they hadn't known in advance how long Ron's mission was going to be and it was too late to make dinner reservations, they settled for an afternoon of making up for lost time by shagging in every room of their flat without much discussion.

Afterwards, Ron revealed a pack of Love Hearts. They weren't, as Hermione had first thought, the original Muggle sweets: on the front, the inside of the usual red outline of a heart was blank. He explained that George had ordered them from the Muggle company who made them and requested them to be left without any messages. Then he had put some spells to allow people to write their own messages in the same style without having to custom-order it.

Ron thought they could double the fun by having a little competition: they would try to surprise each other with the messages and whoever surprised the other person most would win.

The game had started off tame, with the usual messages of the likes of "Be Mine", "I Love You" and "You're gorgeous", but they knew that wouldn't take them anywhere near their goal. Hermione had achieved some success after she'd written "My Sweetheart", but she had been trumped by Ron's "Her-MY-Oh-Nee". Hermione had then written "Luv ur hands"; Ron's reply was "Luv ur moans". That's when she knew she had to up her game.

Therefore, feeling bold, she now wrote "Gr8 tool" on the sweet he'd tossed her and waited.

Unfortunately, that had Ron, unable to believe her correctness, rolling in laughter for the next few minutes.

'This is how it's done, Hermione,' he said, and threw her another sweet. Hermione caught it and felt herself blush when she read his retaliation in tightly packed, minuscule-lettered retaliation.

For the next three rounds, she willed herself to be as creative as possible in the little space she had to work with, but Ron's dirty mouth made for a difficult opponent. The game had practically turned into "How randy can you be in less than 1 square inch", which Hermione suspected was Ron's intention all along because what else could possibly be surprising to them?

Hermione took the next sweet from Ron's outstretched hand warily, his previous message still fresh on her mind ('You're making your mother very proud, Ron'). She actually closed her eyes and flinched with feigned fright, earning a laugh from Ron. For a split second, she thought the sound had seemed slightly forced. She didn't know why, but she also thought about the moisture she had felt on Ron's fingers, and she had a brief, indescribable feeling in the pit of her stomach as she opened her eyes.

Her first reaction was to laugh at Ron's shot, but then her mind registered what she was reading and it told her something wasn't quite right.

"Marry me?"

Hermione looked up sharply, her heart racing.

'What?' she asked weakly; once again, her usually acute brain took a couple of extra seconds to take in the little box open in Ron's hand. He looked nervous, his face suddenly pale and his jaw clamped a little too tight. She wanted to kiss it better.

'You—you planned this all along?' Hermione asked, and regretted it at once. Ron's nervousness would only become worse if she didn't answer soon and he'd lose what little confidence he had. But she was stunned, and she knew that the moment she said it, they'd be too preoccupied with other things, other words; too happy to ask for details.

'Not quite,' Ron replied hoarsely, and then he cleared his throat. 'I've wanted to do it for a while now, but I didn't know how. Every idea seemed too cheesy or stupid, and I thought I'd cock it up anyway. But these last days away from you, I thought I just have to do it, first chance after I get home. And I remembered today was Valentine's Day, and that I had those sweets and no plan, so… I went for it.'

Before Hermione could say anything, and maybe because she hadn't said anything, he blurted, 'Was this a bad idea? Merlin, it was a terrible idea, I'm so sorry, Hermione, you—'

'I lost.'

'What?' he said, looking greener by the minute.

'I lost,' Hermione repeated calmly. 'You win the biggest surprise contest. And… yes, Ron, of course I'll marry you!'

She threw herself at him, giggling as his face transformed into a confused smile at first, and then they were hugging each other and laughing loudly, the Love Heart clutched in Hermione's hand.

It didn't feel like losing at all.