It wasn't that Ron disliked summer - in fact, when he really thought about it, it was probably his favorite season. Had his stomach not been filled with swarming butterflies, he would've enjoyed the weather by playing a game of Quidditch with Harry and his brothers in his backyard. Instead, he was spending his Saturday afternoon searching frantically for something he couldn't seem to find.
"Come on, mate. There's still one shop left," Harry said from beside him, his green eyes looking tired behind his round spectacles.
"We've been searching all bloody day, and we still haven't found anything she'll like," Ron complained, sounding forlorn and extremely put-out. His eyes searching along the crowded cobblestone street, he shoved his hands deep into his robes, idly twirling his wand between his fingers.
Harry eyed him in annoyance, running a hand through his untidy black hair. "I don't know what you're going on about. I've seen plenty of rings Hermione would fancy. You're being the picky one, mate."
Ron groaned loudly, earning him several reproachful looks from a flock of passing witches clad in dark green robes. Feeling his cheeks burning, he averted his gaze and instead focused on the one shop he hadn't yet ventured inside of. His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as the thought of more fruitless searching crossed his mind. He would've rather watched Viktor Krum snog Hermione senseless than go back to his flat empty-handed.
What Ron Weasley wanted was a ring. Not any ordinary ring; he wanted something beautiful, yet simple; dazzling, yet refined; magnificent, yet elegant. In short, he needed something very Hermione - something understated, simplistic and classy.
"Come on, then," he said, motioning for Harry to follow him into the shop. "I reckon there can't be any harm in looking round in here."
"You know, I still can't believe that you've decided to do this," Harry mused as they entered the shop, long strings of golden beads serving as the doorway. An elderly witch with waist-length silver hair glanced up from her position behind the jewelry counter, flashing the two young wizards a toothless smile.
"'Ello, lads," she said, her voice gruff and low. "Can I help you find anything?"
Gulping, Ron shot a skeptical look at Harry, motioning wildly toward the door. Harry merely shrugged and walked over to the counter, ignoring Ron's attempts at leaving.
"We're looking for a ring," Harry said to the witch, running his hand nervously through his hair as her eyes darted toward his scar.
"A ring," she repeated as she moved along the counter, her long, wrinkled fingers tracing over the dirtied glass.
"Yeah," Ron said, his voice high. "An engagement ring."
"Oh, lovely, lovely," the witch said with another smile, causing Ron to visibly shudder. Harry nudged him, shooting him an annoyed glare. His face burning, he followed the witch's fingers down the counter, scrutinizing the small selection of rings as he passed.
He felt his insides twisting as he studied the rings, realizing once again that he wasn't going to find what he was looking for. From what he'd seen so far, the shop didn't seem to carry anything remotely normal; it did, however, seem to be exceptionally stocked with an odd assortment of jewelry that would've suited Luna Lovegood's taste remarkably well.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath, lazily drumming his fingertips against the countertop.
He momentarily shifted his gaze away from the jewelry and stole a glance at Harry, who was inspecting something at the far end of the counter. The old witch was standing in front of him, nodding as she tapped her long, yellowed fingernail against the glass. Harry seemed to be listening intently to every word that fell from her lips; he appeared very interested in what she had to say, and judging from the jewelry he saw on display, Ron couldn't imagine why.
"Hey, mate," Ron said as he approached Harry, confusion clearly evident in his voice, "I think we should go. Hermione's expecting me home early."
"Shut up and look at this," Harry replied, pointing to something sparkling brilliantly inside of the glass case.
Reluctantly, Ron allowed his eyes to wander over to the small ring, a small smile finally creeping onto his face as he realized that he'd found what he'd been searching for. Shining dully in the remaining sunlight that streamed in through the shop's tall windows, the ring was exquisite and refined and a million other adjectives Ron's brain couldn't quite seem to process. He had never imagined himself here, ready to make the biggest commitment of his life, but as he stared at that ring and thought of everything it would symbolize, he couldn't help but feel that he was one of the happiest men in all of England.
Harry nudged him, jolting him out of his reverie. He coughed and grinned embarrassedly, his ears flaming a shade reminiscent of his fiery hair.
"I'll take that one," Ron said to the witch, pointing to the ring.
She nodded, her toothless smile once again spreading across her face. "Wonderful choice, lad. Beautiful ring."
Ron nodded his agreement, stuffing his hands inside of his robes to pull out his moneybag. He looked up at the witch expectantly as she placed the small box into his hand, its smooth velvet material soft on his skin. He wrapped his fingers tightly around it, somehow feeling as though he literally held his future in the palm of his hand.
"That'll be 200 Galleons, lad," the old witch croaked, her hand extended out toward him.
Ron gulped as he reached into his bag, emptying most of its contents into the witch's wrinkled hand. He sighed, placing his bag back inside of his robes.
"So much for finally having money," Ron said to Harry as they exited the shop, walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley that led to the Leaky Cauldron.
"You have a job, Ron," Harry pointed out, dodging a group of teenage witches as they passed Madam Malkin's. "Or have you forgotten the two years of training you went through to become an Auror?"
"Shut up, Harry," Ron said tiredly, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as they neared the entranceway to the pub. "All I want to do is go back to the flat and sleep for two or three days."
Beside him, Harry grinned. "Too bad you've got more important things to attend to. Like proposing to Hermione."
Ron's face paled slightly at these words; gulping, he wrapped his fingers more tightly around the small velvet box in his pocket, apprehension and anxiety beginning to spread rapidly through his thoughts. What if I muck up this entire situation? he thought miserably. His stomach lurched unpleasantly as an even more terrifying thought crossed his mind - what if she doesn't want to marry me?
"Oh, there you are."
Startled, Ron looked up and found himself inside of The Leaky Cauldron, his younger sister standing across from him wearing a look of sheer annoyance.
"Ginny, what're you doing here?" Ron blurted, his eyes scanning the tiny pub for any sign of Hermione. If his sister was around, there was a good chance that Hermione was as well.
Ginny's eyes narrowed at him as she sighed heavily. "Looking for you, as a matter of fact. Mum's sent me because she needs you two" - she motioned toward Ron and Harry - "to come round for dinner tonight. Bill's going back to France in the morning with Fleur, so she wants everyone together tonight to give him a proper send-off."
"Tonight?" Ron asked, his eyes wandering to Harry as he shot him a fearful glance. "I thought the dinner was tomorrow!"
Ginny looked at him quizzically, shaking her head. "Change of plans. Why do you seem so flustered all of a sudden?"
"Dunno what you're talking about," he muttered, wracking his brain for possible solutions to his most recent dilemma.
"Ron, your face is positively flaming," Ginny remarked, a hint of amusement evident in her voice. "I know you're quite taken with Fleur, but try to remember that she'll be back soon enough. There's no need to get so upset over it."
"Shut up, Ginny," Ron barked, glaring at Harry as he chuckled at Ginny's comment. "This isn't about bloody Fleur. It's about Hermione."
"What about Hermione? I've already talked to her, you prat. She's over helping Mum with dinner."
"Bloody hell," Ron groaned, running a hand nervously through his mane of ginger hair.
"What Ron is trying to say," Harry began, rolling his eyes at his best friend, "is that he planned on spending the evening alone with Hermione."
Ginny made a face as her gaze fell upon her brother. "You two can shag anytime. Come round to dinner tonight to say goodbye to your brother, for Merlin's sake."
"Ginny!" Ron hissed, his face turning an intense shade of purple. "This isn't about shagging! It's about marriage!"
Ginny's jaw dropped as the impact of her brother's words hit her, her bright brown eyes growing wide in amazement. "You're proposing to Hermione?"
"Yeah," he replied, feeling his blush deepen in his cheeks.
"Oh, Ron! That's wonderful!" Ginny squealed, throwing her arms around her brother in a congratulatory hug.
Ron allowed a faint smile to spread across his lips as he hugged his sister, excitement and fear coursing through him as the thought of proposing to Hermione flashed across his mind. "Ginny, I want you to promise not to say anything to anyone. Not even Mum and Dad, all right?"
"Oh, right, of course I won't say anything. I promise," she said as she pulled away from him. "Now, Harry and I will go back to the Burrow and keep Hermione occupied for a bit, you know, to give you a bit of time to prepare. I'll send her back to your flat in about an hour."
Ron nodded, watching as Ginny and Harry waved their goodbyes and shouted words of encouragement as they walked away from him, their hands lightly entwined. He sighed heavily, his fingers wrapping around the small box in his pocket as he Apparated home.
"What...oh, bloody hell!"
Ron raced into the small kitchen, his heart sinking as he observed the catastrophe sitting atop the stove. He groaned, waving his wand to clear away the ruined food.
"Damn," he muttered, his hand once again tugging at his hair, his movements full of frustration.
"Ron?"
Ron yelped and spun around at the sudden noise, his wand pointed at the intruder. His panic subsided considerably as his eyes lingered on the surprised face of Hermione Granger, her arms crossed neatly across her chest.
"Oh, it's just you," Ron breathed, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. He glanced at his watch and smiled nervously. "I didn't expect you for a bit longer."
She smiled slightly and craned her neck, examining the now-empty pots and pans that sat atop the stove. "Were you cooking?" she asked curiously, her smile growing a bit wider.
"Oh - well, erm, not exactly," Ron replied. "I tried, but things didn't go too smoothly. I'm going to give it another go if you don't mind waiting a bit."
"That's fine," Hermione said, her inquisitive expression still lingering on her face, "but I honestly don't understand why we didn't stay for supper at your parents' house. It was Bill and Fleur's going away dinner, you know."
Ron nodded. "Yeah. I know. But I fancied myself a quiet evening alone with you tonight."
"Still, I think we should have eaten with your family tonight," Hermione said, clucking her tongue quietly.
"Hermione," Ron began, trying desperately to keep his temper under control, "I talked with Bill and he said he completely understood. We'll see him at Christmas anyway, won't we?"
"I suppose," she replied as she strode over to him, her arms slinking around his neck as she pressed her lips gently to his. After a few moments, she pulled away, her eyes twinkling happily. "Do you need any help with this? I'm sure I can conjure something up for us quickly."
Ron shook his head, still a bit dazed from her kiss. "No, I've got it. You just go and wait while I finish this."
"You're sure?" she said skeptically, slowly edging closer to the kitchen door. "I don't mind helping, honestly."
"I'm not helpless," Ron replied a bit indignantly, once again wrapping his fingers around the smooth velvet of the box that rested in his pocket.
"All right," Hermione said with an uncertain smile, wringing her hands together nervously. "Erm...if anything happens to catch fire, just remember Aguamenti."
"Hilarious, you are," Ron replied with a scowl, glaring at her as she exited the kitchen.
Grabbing the necessary utensils, Ron set to work on creating what he hoped would be a delicious, romantic dinner for two. "I'll prove her wrong," he said with a determined glint in his eyes, a sly smile spreading across his lips. "There will be no more burned food this evening."
"Aguamenti! Aguamenti!" Ron shouted as flames erupted from the stovetop, bursts of bright orange dangerously licking the ceiling. "Aguamenti!"
"Ron!" Hermione cried as she ran into the kitchen, her eyes wide, reflecting the orange flames. Quickly gathering her composure, she joined Ron in extinguishing the fire by shouting, "Aguamenti!" at a flaming pot atop the stove.
"Damn it!" Ron bellowed as the last of the flames were extinguished by the cool jets of icy water. "I can't believe I let that happen again!"
"Again?" Hermione questioned, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "It's a miracle that you didn't burn down the entire flat!"
"Not now, Hermione," Ron said in agitation, his face steadily growing redder by the second.
"I don't understand why you're trying to cook all of a sudden," she replied heatedly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Normally I can't get you to come within five meters of the stove."
"Maybe I wanted to learn!" Ron shouted, his frustration finally bubbling to the surface.
"I would've been more than willing to teach you," she snapped back, eying the burned ceiling in annoyance. "You couldn't have possibly expected to learn something as complex as cooking in a night's time, could you? Honestly, Ron. It's not as simple as you think, even with magic."
"Well thank you for pointing out the obvious, Hermione," Ron retorted, his face now matching his fiery mane of hair. "Excuse me for trying to do something nice for you!"
"We weren't supposed to eat supper here tonight anyway!" she argued. "We were supposed to be at your parents' house, but for some reason you refused to go over there!"
"Because I was going to propose to you tonight and I didn't want to do it in front of my entire bloody family!" Ron yelled, catching his mistake a moment too late. Slapping himself on the forehead, he closed his eyes and groaned, realizing that he'd completely ruined his elaborate plan.
Hermione stood before him, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Her eyes were wide and surprised; the impact of Ron's accidental confession had not fully hit her yet, and she was left in a state of shock, unable to process the meaning of his words.
For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was rendered speechless. Despite her greatest efforts, she could not seem to form the words she wanted, needed to say to Ron. She could only continue to stare at him, flabbergasted, her hands shaking slightly from nerves.
Ron took a step closer to her, his eyes finding hers as he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. Hermione stared at it incredulously, feeling her eyes burning with unshed tears.
"I wanted this night to be special," Ron said quietly, taking hold of her hand. "The most special of your life, actually. But in typical fashion, I managed to completely muck things up."
Hermione emitted a soft chuckle, one that sounded choked and muffled, as though she were restraining a sob from escaping her throat.
"But I suppose I should have realized that those sort of things don't matter to you," he said, his eyes penetrating hers. "If my constantly mucking things up bothered you so much, I don't think you'd be standing here now."
Hermione did not say anything; she felt that words were not needed. She smiled up at him, tears spilling over onto her cheeks, staining them.
"But I'm not going to ruin this, Hermione," he continued, opening the velvet box and extracting the ring, holding it up so she could see it properly. Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open slightly. "I love you more than anything in the world. I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He slipped the ring delicately onto her finger, watching as more tears of happiness traveled down her face. "Hermione, will you marry me?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation, her lips catching his as her arms found their way around his neck. "Yes, yes, yes!"
Ron's hands were tangled in her hair, and as he continued to kiss her he realized that everything he had ever wanted - and everything he could ever want - was right there, wrapped securely in his arms.