This story was written for the Hufflepuff House Secret Santa. It was given to Foxy Wolf as a gift, she just let me post it.

And now to the story!



December 24, 1997

Although the numerous candles were setting warm shadows across the walls and cheery holiday music was playing, the atmosphere in the room was less than inviting. They few occupants of the burrow were having a hard time keeping their spirits up this Christmas Eve, with most of their usual guests away. Only Mr. and Mrs.Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry remained at the house. The rest of the Weasleys were off doing various jobs for the Order; it was sickening that Voldemort could cause trouble, however small, on what should have been such a happy night. The only reason the three teenagers had not been allowed to fight with the Order was that they were still considered ‘to young’. Hermione thought that this was understandable, since Ron, Harry and she were still seventh years and Ginny was only in her sixth. Still, some of her friends did not share her opinion. That much was clear from the extremely loud fight that Harry and Lupin had had a few minutes ago about letting them go and fight.

Looking around, she realized what a lame excuse for Christmas Eve this was. Harry was brooding in an armchair in the corner while Ron and Ginny played a half-hearted game of wizard chess. Mrs. Weasley was finishing knitting a pair of magenta hats for George and Fred; Mr. Weasley had gone up to bed already after a long day at the Ministry. Hermione was supposedly ‘reading’, but was really occupying herself by stealing glances at Ron over the top of her book. She had become accustomed to doing that over the past few months. Contrary to what she believed at the end of last year, Ron and Hermione where not yet a couple like she had expected them to be by now. They were stuck at an awkward standstill between platonic friendship and something more, and Hermione was sick of it.

“Hermione, dear, did you hear what I said?”

“What? Oh, no, I didn’t,” she said as she pulled herself of her reverie.

“I was just saying that I have to run to Diagon Alley for a present.” Mrs. Weasley continued as she put her coat on. “Is that all right with you kids?”

“Fine,” they chanted in unison.

“Now, I want you all to be extra careful while I’m gone. You know how to �““

“Mum, we’re not ten anymore,” Ginny said.

“I know, I know,” Mrs. Weasley replied right before she apparated.

Harry picked up his abandoned Quidditch magazine; Hermione went back to her book and the youngest Weasleys continued their game of chess. After a few minutes later Hermione heard a triumphant ‘Checkmate!”

“I went easy on you,” Ron said darkly.

“Sure you did,” Ginny sarcastically replied.

“Hey, Ginny, can I show you something? In the kitchen?” Harry asked as a small blush spread across his cheeks.

“Sure,”

God, Hermione thought, He really is horrible at this.

Ginny and Harry left, most likely to snog, Ron waved his wand set the chess pieces back in their places.

“Do you wan to play?” Ron inquired.

“Sure,” Hermione teasingly grinned as she sat next to the board, “but you know you’re going to lose.”

“In your dreams,” he smiled back as he made his first move.

They continued to play for a few minutes. As she was about to take her hand off the rook that she had progressed he grasped it and her fingers.

“No, you don’t want to do that,” he patiently said.

What is up with him? Hermione wondered.

“Here, put it on c5.” Ron continued, still not taking his hand off of hers.

Hermione looked up into his eyes, the blue orbs that she had hated and adored, loved and despised. There was something in them that she had never seen before and she could not place. They leaned over the chessboard until their lips met . . .

_____________________________________________________________
July 15, 2000


“Ron, where are we going?” Hermione asked as she closed her eyes.

“You’ll see. Grab onto my arm, alright.”

“Where is it?” she asked, groping around the air in front of her.

I can’t mess this up. Ron thought.

“Here,” He said quickly as he grabbed her hand. “Hold on.”

A moment later they found themselves on an abandoned Platform 9 3/4. The Hogwarts Express was stationary on its tracks and the dais was dimly lit.

“Ron, what’s going on?” Hermione questioned as she looked around.

“The first time I saw you,” Ron was almost visually shaking now, “was at this station. This is where it all started.” He got down on one knee. “Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me?”

Hermione was caught off guard. This was the last thing that she had expected. Her hand flew to her heart, yet she could not say anything.

“Hermione?” Ron looked worried now. “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to.” He was standing again. “It was silly to ask �““

“Yes, I’ll marry you!” Hermione practically screamed as she threw her arms around his neck, beaming.

“I got you this.” He said once he set her down.

“Oh, Ron, it’s beautiful!” Hermione gasped as she looked down at the engagement ring. It was a glistening star-shaped diamond on a thin golden band, with several words in Latin inscribed on it.

“Amor Dunicum Sidereus Accido,” Hermione mumbled.

“I means ‘love until stars fall’. The ring’s been in my family for ages.” Ron said as he put an arm around her waist.

“Oh, Ron!” Hermione whispered as he leaned down to kiss her.

_________________________________________________

September 1, 2013

A young girl stood on Platform 9 ¾, anxiously waiting the time when her parents would let her board the train.

“Your first year is going to be tough, sweetie, but you’ll be fine.” Her bushy-haired mother said as she pushed a strand of red hair out of her daughter’s eyes. “Won’t she, Ron?”

“Of course,” the man said as he wrung his hands in nervousness. “Just stick with your cousins and it’ll be fine.”

The girl said good-bye to her parents as the shrill whistle sounded. “See you at break!” She yelled as she bounded to the entrance with her trunk.
“Remember to write, Paige!” Hermione yelled as her only daughter waved out the window as the express bounded out of the station. Soon the train rounded the corner and the girl was out of sight.

“She’ll do fine, Hermione.” Ron put an arm around his crying wife’s shoulders. “She’s probably telling some unfortunate little boy that there’s dirt on his nose right now.”

Hermione chuckled at that. “I don’t know what I’ll do when the next leaves.”

“Well,” Ron said, “you have about 11 years and one month to prepare.”

“You’re right,” Hermione said as she put a hand over her bulging stomach. “I love you, Ron” she whispered.

“I love you, too, Hermione” He murmured.