House: Gryffindor

Category: Theme

Prompt: Favorite

Word Count (according to Google docs): 2122

Beta: Shay

-AN I went a little Inception with this story. All characters are property of (or are) JK Rowling. :)

"Why did they have to make it the coldest night of the year?" whined Ron.

Harry cocked his eyebrow at his red-headed friend. "I'm fairly certain the organizers didn't specifically plan the weather for the release."

Ron harrumphed. "You know what I mean. But what did they expect, planning the party for January? At least it's not snowing, too." He tightened the scarf around his neck to ward off the bitter, winter wind. "I still don't know why we needed to be here. It's not like they wouldn't have let us hop to the front of the queue if we got here just before midnight."

"Just because they would let us, doesn't mean we should do it. I don't want any more preferential treatment. This was your idea, remember? We will wait in line just like all the other fans."

Ron snorted. "Fans? I could understand if we were waiting for season tickets to the Cannons -"

"- wouldn't be much of a wait seeing as no one but you wants those tickets," Harry muttered under his breath, earning a glare.

"But it's a ruddy book," Ron finished with a huff. The frigid conditions were compounding his nerves.

"It's not any book, Ron. It's Hermione's favorite book. And this is the first edition written since Bathilda Bagshot died."

"Yes. And because it's her favorite, we're standing out in here in the cold with a bunch of swots who are chomping at the bit to meet the author and get a signed copy. And it's some bloke nobody has ever heard of! Robert - Robert something-or-other. I can't remember."

"Hermione is adamant that the author is an expert on the wizarding world. She's read some of his other books and claims that they are very accurate."

"They better be. I don't know if I can deal with Hermione reading another book and exclaiming, 'This is wrong! How dare they try to cover up the important contributions made by house-elves in the Great Cauldron Explosion of 1818!'" Ron's voice rose in pitch to mimic his girlfriend.

Harry laughed at the terrible impression. "Ah, the 'A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School' rant." He shivered as a particularly polar gust of wind ruffled his hair. "She wasn't wrong about that. Let's hope the new edition includes house-elves."

A woman walking by laughed lightly, "Don't worry. It does."

"Oh?" Ron asked. "How do you know?"

"I know the author very well."

"Yeah? Do you think you could get him to sign a copy for us now?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. You'll just have to wait in the queue with everyone else."

"Too bad," Harry shrugged. "Any clue what he's working on after this book?"

"The author's got a five volume series about Grindlewald coming out over the next few years. I know a lot of magic historians are excited about those."

Ron smiled. "Hermione will be so happy to hear that. The only thing we know about Grindlewald is from that Rita Skeeter book. What was it called, Harry?"

"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore," he muttered, grumpily.

"Yeah, that was it. Stupid cow." Ron scowled. "I hope these new books are better."

The woman smiled. "I promise. They'll be just what fans want." She shivered. "My goodness, it's brisk. I must get inside. I'll see you boys in a few minutes when they open the doors."

Harry and Ron stared longingly after the woman after she entered the warm bookshop. Ron sniffled and rubbed at the bottom of his nose.

Harry cast a heating charm that did little to ward off the chill.

"You didn't have to come, you know," Ron said quietly. "You could be nice and warm at home right now. I'm sure Ginny would appreciate having you there."

"I'd rather be with you right now, and I'm sure Ginny will understand." At Ron's inquisitive look, Harry continued, "You've been my best friend for nine years. You don't think I've caught on to why we're here."

A blush crept up Ron's wind chapped cheeks. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. You may be my best friend, but Hermione is too. She prefers books over just about anything. Sure, she likes flowers and chocolate, but that's nothing compared to her love of books. And with Valentine's Day just around the corner, you want to give her something very special."

Ron shook his head. "It's not just Valentine's Day. I - I want," he trailed off as he searched for the words.

"You want to propose to Hermione." At Ron's shocked look, Harry chuckled. "It wasn't hard to figure out, mate."

"Do you think Hermione knows? She probably does and is trying to think of a way to let me down gently. What if -"

Harry cut him off before his ramblings could devolve. "Hermione loves you. I don't think she knows that you intend to propose to her with a signed copy of Hogwarts, A History, but she's going to love that too. It's much more fitting for her than a ring."

"Yeah. She tends to take off the little jewelry she does wear and forget where she's left it." He noticed a staff member preparing to unlock the doors to the bookstore. Ron's anxiety level noticeably spiked. "Thanks for being here with me Harry. You're risking frost bite."

Harry nudged Ron's shoulder. "I've risked a lot more for you before. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. 'Sides, I would have gone with you to pick out a ring. It's my duty as your best man."

Ron snorted. "What makes you think you're best man? I do have four brothers."

"As if Hermione would let you choose anyone else," Harry retorted.

Ron laughed. "True. Very true." He pointed ahead to the author's table. "Hey! Would you look at that? It's the lady we talked to outside."

Harry and Ron slowly wound their way the the bookstore. When it was their turn to approach the table, they greeted the woman.

"Good to see you again, boys."

"You're the author?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "I sometimes write under a pseudonym. Now who am I making this out to?" She hovered her quill above a brand new tome.

"Ummm," Ron gulped.

Taking pity on him, Harry explained. "He'd like to give this to his girlfriend. She's -"

"No, Harry." Ron shook his head. "I need to do this." Swallowing hard, he steeled his nerves. "I love Hermione Jean Granger. More than anything in this world. I'd do anything for her. I've known I wanted her to be my future since I was about fifteen years old. She's so much better than I can ever hope to be, but she makes me strive to want to be more. If she'll have me, I want to ask her to be my wife. Can you make it out to her?"

Harry was impressed at the outpouring of emotion from his best friend. Perhaps his emotional range had expanded beyond a teaspoon.

The author gave Ron a contemplating look.

"I will sign it for her," she said, as Ron smiled jubilantly. "On one condition."

His smile fell. "Anything. Whatever it takes."

The corner of her mouth upturned in a small smirk. "You can't read what I've written. I'll inscribe it and then we will wrap it up."

"Er..." Ron waffled.

"If it makes you feel better, your friend here," she pointed to Harry, "can look it over?"

"Deal!" Ron exclaimed.

The author's quill flew across the page. Moments later, she slid the book across the table for Harry's inspection. He let out a loud laugh and declared, "It's perfect."

Ron arrived at the front door of the flat he shared with Hermione. He could have easily apparated straight inside, but this was a very important night. Wearing an uncomfortable monkey suit and knocking on the front door before taking her out on a romantic date was necessary.

Taking a moment to pause and adjust his tie, Ron listened to his love blunder about inside. "Ooof" he heard, quickly followed by a string of curses. He smiled, knowing that she probably stubbed her toe on the coffee table. Again.

He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, running his fingers gently along the shrunken spine of Hermione's book. He knew she'd love the book. He could only hope she'd love the question he would ask along with it.

Taking a deep breath, Ron gathered every ounce of his Gryffindor courage.

"Coming Ron!" Hermione called through the door. "This was really just silly. You didn't have to go over to Harry's to get ready." She opened the door.

The air rushed out of his lungs and Ron fell to his knees.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "Ron? Are you alright?" She whipped out her wand and started casting diagnostic spells. "I'm getting Harry. Expecto Pa -"

Ron gasped and sprung to action. "No, no I'm fine." She paused for a moment and gave him an incredulous look. "Really. I promise." He reached out for her hand. "You just took my breath away."

A slight blush colored her tanned cheeks. Ron's gazed lovingly at the witch. Hermione's hair fell in glossy curls down her back, tamed only by a diamante barrette. She wore a little black dress, that clung to her form in an elegant, classy way. Ron admired the flat shoes that adorned her feet - Hermione refused to sacrifice her comfort to be "fashionable", much to his sister's chagrin. Hermione knew what she liked and what she didn't, and that was one of the many things Ron loved about her.

"Here," she tightened her grip on his hand and braced her legs, "let me help you up."

"No."

"You're just going to stay down there on the ground then?" She arched her eyebrow at him.

"If you asked me to, I would." Ron readjusted his stance so that he rested on one knee and took her small hand in both of his. "I wanted to do this differently, but Hermione, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Pissing you off for sure, because that's what I'm good at. But I promise to always make it up to you." Ron noticed a slow tear roll down Hermione's cheek. "Oh shite, don't cry. I'm buggering this all up. What I'm trying to say is that I love you. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

She sniffled. "Ron, I -"

"Wait!" he interrupted. "Before you say anything, I got you something." He withdrew the wrapped gift from his pocket and enlarged with a wave of his wand. He shoved the package into her hands.

With bated breath, we watched as she slowly unwrapped it. Hermione always removed the paper from presents with the utmost of care. Ron was more of the rip and throw sort - one of the many ways they complimented each other he thought.

"Oh Ron! Is this the new edition?" She lifted the large book to her nose to inhale the scent of fresh parchment and ink.

"Yeah. Harry and I went to the book release a few weeks ago. We met the author and everything. I asked her to sign it for you."

Gasping, she flipped open the book to find the inscription.

Holding his breath, Ron waited - impatiently - while she read the message. "So Hermione, will you -" His proposal was cut off by her giggles. "What?" Ron demanded. "What does it say?"

"Read it for yourself." Hermione held the book down so that he could see.

To Hermione Jean,

I hope you enjoy this updated version of Hogwarts, A History.

-ROBERT GALBRAITH

p.s. Take pity on this poor sod and say yes. He just stood out in the freezing cold until his bogeys froze into icicles. If that's not the foundation of a good marriage, what is?

Ron swore. "Oh, bugger." He looked down at the floor wishing it would just swallow him up.

"I agree. It is an excellent foundation," she joked. Ron's head snapped up. Hermione's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "Ask me?"

"Will you -"

She cut him off, "-YES!" She fell to the floor and pulled him in for a thorough snog.

When their lungs screamed for oxygen, they drew apart.

"I, uh, I didn't get you a ring or anything. I thought you'd like a book better."

She smiled widely. "You were right. But you know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"We won't be making our dinner reservations tonight."

"Oh?" Ron's eyebrows waggled. "And what will we be doing instead?"

"I don't know about you, but I'll be reading my favorite book." She hugged the giant tome.

Ron grumbled, "I should have known."