Disclaimer:I don't own the characters or locations of the Harry Potter universe. They belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc and Scholastic Books. I am in no way affiliated with any of the aforementioned parties. I am also making no money from this fanfiction and intend no copyright infringement.

Author's Note: Thanks goes to my lovely beta Oppungo for the wonderful job she did. Thanks a million.



“How much more pathetic could I be?�

This one thought echoed in her mind over and over again as she sat in her empty office. The scratching of her quill was the only sound breaking the monumental silence that had taken hold of the building. Her quill flew across the parchment as she tried to distract herself from the fact that she was the only one working on a day like this, St. Valentine’s Day. Everyone else spent the day at home or out on an incredibly romantic date with their significant other, and so they should. But she should have been one of them, she should have spent the day far away from anything work-related.

But Ron hadn’t asked her out as she had expected him to. Hermione heaved a sigh. She didn’t know what she was to him, if he ever gave it a thought at all, and their lack of communication for the last week just added to her confusion. Hermione could still recall the day all of it had started, vividly.

*~*

She’d been racing down the hallways, desperately trying to catch her boss to give him some last-minute information before he left for a meeting. She rushed around a corner in a flurry of robes and untameable hair, not paying attention to her surroundings. Next thing she knew her parchments and quills were flying through the air and she had landed unceremoniously on her bum. The person she had run into chuckled and extended a hand to help her up.

“Whoa there. What’s got into you, Hermione?� Laughter rang in Ron’s voice as he gathered her things up from the floor.

“I’m sorry, Ron. I don’t have any time right now, we’ll talk later, ok?�

Without waiting for his reply she continued down the hall at a rapid pace. His next words stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Would you go out for dinner with me tonight?�

Hermione whirled around, her errand completely forgotten, and stared at him wide-eyed. Was he really asking what she thought he was? Did he want to go out on a date with her?

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Minutes passed but neither of them moved. Ron’s face fell when she didn’t reply. It had taken a lot out of him to gather the courage to ask her out and now she wouldn’t even say anything. He was about to turn around and walk away, but Hermione had finally gotten over her shock.

“Y – Yes!�

It was Ron’s turn to look surprised, he had been convinced that she would turn him down. He was afraid that she would change her mind if he waited too long with his answer so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, “I’ll pick you up at eight!�

Hermione nodded and all of a sudden squeaked in horror as she remembered why she had been outside of her office in the first place. Sending Ron an apologetic look she hurried on, hoping she wasn’t too late already.

*~*

So much had happened since then, so much had changed.

That first date had been a complete disaster and they had ended up fighting half-way through their meal. Hermione had gone home that night thinking she had ruined the only chance to be with him. The next day had been a nightmare, her co-workers had suffered because of her bad mood until she had come back from her lunch break to a big surprise.

A gorgeous bouquet of white roses had been waiting on her desk. Attached to it had been a note saying “Sorry for being a git. Mum’s inviting you for dinner tonight. Ron�. She had later on found out that the roses were Ginny’s doing, as she had pestered Ron until he had complied with her wishes, but she still appreciated the gesture, even if it was kind of forced.

After their rather rocky start they had quickly fallen into a comfortable routine. They would meet up for lunch on most days, Hermione would come to the Burrow for dinner every Sunday, and Ron would take her out on a date almost every Saturday.

They had never talked about what they were to each other, though. And when, after two months, Ron still hadn’t kissed her, Hermione had taken matters into her own hands.

*~*

All the way up to her flat, which was situated in Muggle London, Ron had been ranting about the Quidditch game they had seen that afternoon. The Chudley Cannons had lost again, something Ron couldn’t seem to accept.

Hermione let him go on about how partial the referee had been without interrupting. She herself couldn’t understand what people found so fascinating about Quidditch. The only reason she had accepted Ron’s invitation to watch the game with her instead of Harry, who had fallen ill a few days before, was to spend some more time with him. She had had a busy week into which she couldn’t fit any lunch dates, so Sunday had been the last time she had seen him.

That week had been the turning point of their relationship. Her days had been dull without him in them, she had still enjoyed her work, but all she had really wanted was for him to hold her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot all about her troubles. But she was realistic enough to know that Ron wouldn’t come out and kiss her, even if Ginny insisted that he was madly in love with her. It had been during that week that Hermione had resolved to take matters into her own hands and make the first move.

They neared her door when Ron suddenly asked, “What did you think of the game? Did you have fun today?�

“I had a lovely time, Ron. Thanks for taking me with you.� It hadn’t been a real lie, she had enjoyed herself, although not because of the game but because of Ron’s enthusiasm, with which he had commented the entire game. “Would you like to come in for tea?�

Ron’s face lit up only to fall again a second later, “I can’t. I promised Harry to call into him after the game and give him a play-by-play. I’d have loved to stay though, if I hadn’t promised.�

“Don’t worry about it. Say ‘Hi’ to Harry for me.� Hermione could still see the distress etched into his features so she did the only thing she could think of. Standing on tip-toes she lightly brushed her lips over his.

Ron looked shell-shocked, and for a second Hermione thought Ginny had been wrong after all, but her fears were dispelled when a goofy grin spread across his face. Ron took a step closer to her, gently lifted her chin with one of his fingers and lowered his head to give her a proper kiss. When they finally broke apart Ron trailed his hand across her cheek and down her neck. A slight smile played on his lips when he spoke again, “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner. Mum’s planning something special because Charlie’s coming to visit us for a while.�

*~*

Hermione had never thought she would enjoy the physical aspect of their relationship as much as she did. Although they never did more than kissing she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

The only shadow on their blossoming relationship was cast by the fact that they never talked about what they were to each other. They could talk about everything else, but every time Hermione tried to steer the conversation to their relationship Ron would withdraw into himself and fall silent until she changed topic again. He hadn’t even really asked her out, she just assumed they were dating because she knew that he wasn’t seeing anyone else and she was sure he wouldn’t string her along for fun either. Hermione knew that Ron wasn’t good when it came to talking about his feelings. They had been friends long enough for her to know almost everything about him, which was why she didn’t try to force him towards talking about them. But she couldn’t help feel a little dejected that he’d never made their relationship official. She still couldn’t help but feel insecure about all this at times and would have liked the reassurance.

And now it seemed as if she was going to spend Valentine’s Day alone.

Why? She asked herself. Was it supposed to be a hint of some kind? A not-so-subtle sign that their relationship was nearing its end? She didn’t know what to think anymore and it was driving her insane, like that awful tapping sound that just wouldn’t go away!

Wait … a tapping sound? Hermione lifted her eyes from the parchment she had been mutilating …, and sure enough, there was Pigwidgeon, tapping against her window, asking to be let in. Hermione quickly opened the window, wondering how long he had been trying to get her attention. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she couldn’t even remember when the annoying tapping had started.

She tried in vain to calm the excited owl down enough to be able to take the letter tied to his leg. She finally gave up and decided to wait until Pig came to her of his own accord.

After five minutes the hyperactive bird landed on her desk and allowed her to untie the letter. Her fingers trembled slightly as she offered a treat to Pig, her eyes glued to the scrap of parchment in her hand. Ron’s sloppy handwriting was unmistakeable.

She had waited so long for him to contact her, but now that she held the letter in her hand, she was afraid to open it, afraid of what it might contain.

Hermione shivered violently as a cold breeze blew through her office. At once she remembered that she had forgotten to shut the window again after Pig had flown away. Dropping the letter, she quickly crossed the room and closed the window against the cold February air.

Returning to her desk she stared at the letter for a long moment. She tried to tell herself that she was being unreasonable, that there was nothing to be afraid of. It just wouldn’t be like Ron to break up with her in a letter. But although she willed herself to pick it up her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Her arms felt like stone but she managed to move them a little bit more with each passing second.

“Don’t think about it, just open it,� she repeated the mantra over and over in her head. What was wrong with her anyway? She was never this afraid of something she knew couldn’t hurt her. It seemed as if every last bit of logic had left her and she was reduced to being a bumbling idiot. She realized with a start, that Ron had always had that effect on her, even when they had been in school had she reacted more emotionally to things he had said and done than to things Harry had said.

While she was still contemplating this, she had opened the letter and was holding it in front of her face, not noticing what she had done. The words in front of her eyes finally registered in her brain and a small smile curved her lips.

Hermione,
Meet me at the Three Broomsticks at seven. It’s important.
Can’t wait to see you,
Ron.

Whatever would happen later on, this didn’t sound as if he wanted to break up with her. Hermione sighed in relief, at the same time berating herself for being so foolish and forming rash conclusions, something she always accused Ron of doing.

Valentine’s Day wasn’t looking so dreary after all!

*~*

Apparating just outside of Hogsmeade, Hermione silently made her way towards the Three Broomsticks. Even after they had graduated from Hogwarts she and her friends had often met up here and enjoyed afternoons together. A lot of happy memories were interwoven with the light of the lamps illuminating the windows to both sides of the road.

Entering the pub her eyes roamed the patrons, quickly settling on a mop of orangey-red hair. Ron was standing with his back to her talking to Madam Rosmerta in a low voice. She took a few uncertain steps towards him, unsure if she should interrupt the conversation or wait until it was finished.

Madam Rosmerta saved her the decision when her eyes landed on her. She said something to Ron who suddenly whirled around and came towards her, a big smile on his face.

“There you are. I got us the table in the corner and Madam Rosmerta is making sure that no one disturbs us.�

Hermione nodded, but couldn’t help to detect a slight trembling in his voice. The way he kept fiddling with the hem of his jumper was also a tell-tale sign of his nervousness. She wondered why he would be nervous when he didn’t have any reason to be. They had been on loads of dates before, granted none of them had been on Valentine’s Day, but she doubted that the day held a great importance to him. Quite frankly, she was amazed that he had remembered at all.

Ron escorted her to their table and sat down opposite her. Before an awkward silence had the chance to settle in Madame Rosmerta brought two Butterbeers. Ron’s ears turned slightly pink, when he muttered, “I ordered for you already. I …erm … hope you don’t mind?�

“Of course I don’t, Ron.� Hermione couldn’t keep the smile off her face any longer, he was just so adorable when he was embarrassed, especially when his ears turned red. Trying to ease the tension between them, although she had no idea why it was there in the first place, Hermione made an attempt at making small-talk. Soon enough they were chatting and laughing again comfortably with each other.

It was getting quite late when Ron asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. Hermione agreed, curious to see what he was planning. Until now nothing out of the ordinary had happened and she still couldn’t explain why he had been nervous earlier on.

Holding her hand Ron led her out of the village towards the Shrieking Shack. They stood in silence for a while until Ron cleared his throat and drew her attention away from the peaceful scenery around them.

“I - I know you’re upset with me ... or something ... because I never really talk about ... you know ... us. But it’s not because I don’t love you … because I do! L - love you that is … I guess maybe I always have ... ever since I was just a dumb kid, and didn‘t even realise it! But I remember feeling that you were special … that you were different from all the other girls … It just took me a while to figure out what you meant to me, and what I wanted to do about it …�

Hermione’s eyes had grown wide as saucers during this little speech. She’d never, even in her wildest dreams, imagined Ron could say something as romantic as that. She was about to tell him that she loved him, too, when he continued to speak.

“I guess, what I’m asking is … do you feel the same? … Hermione, do you want to marry me?�

Hermione was speechless. This had to be the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her. This whole moment, it was just perfect. She hadn’t even seen the little black box in his hand until he held it up to her, showing her a simple silver engagement ring.

“Yes! Of course I want to marry you - I love you!�

The smile Ron gave her shone brighter than the stars above. The last coherent thought that went trough her mind, as he engulfed her in a big hug, was, “How could I have ever thought he would break up with me?�