It's depressing that I can't stand to hear or see my boyfriend text another girl. It's depressing that not a day goes by that I don't feel like crying. It's depressing that I haven't had a day in more than a year when I haven't felt at least a little anxious. It's depressing that not only is my mom my best friend, but that I only have about four others. It's depressing that writing is my favorite thing to do, period. And it's depressing that this is the happiest I've been in a year.

So here's to a better future, I guess, because things can only go up after you've hit bottom. Right?

"It's your day now," George whispered to his brother. "Don't let another chance pass." One of the most good-humored men Ron had ever met, yet one of the wisest. He always did his best to follow his brother's advice.

"Right," Ron said, swallowing hard. The box in his pocket had felt heavy all day, but he had secretly hoped he wouldn't have to use it yet; he was far too nervous.

It was the day after Christmas and the Burrow was close to bursting. A number of those staying were out for the day, shopping, so Ron and George had found a moment of peace for lunch that afternoon. The two gingers ate sandwiches in the kitchen where Molly had already set knives to work, preparing dinner.

"You know how you're going to go about it?" George asked, taking a drink of milk.

"I've got an idea," Ron said, wiping his hands on his napkin.

After waiting for a second to see if Ron could continue, George spoke again. "Care to elaborate?"

"Well . . . The ring and the question are really all I've got," he admitted. George chuckled.

"Don't worry, baby brother . . . You'll get it when you get the chance with her."

"I'm back," Hermione said, closing Ron's door behind her and sounding out of breath. The number of shopped bags she was holding made it obvious that she had had trouble getting up the stairs.

"What've you got there?" Ron asked, laughing. Hermione used magic to help her shove the bags into her duffle bag.

"Books, mostly," she said. "Flourish and Blotts had the biggest delivery of new books while I was in there . . . I couldn't resist," she smiled.

Ron walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She snuggled her back against him and he kissed the top of her head then released her. She leaned back over to zip her bag back up.

When Hermione turned, Ron was kneeling in front of her on one knee. Her jaw dropped open, her mouth forming a small, perfect "o."

"Hermione," Ron said, his face growing redder by the second. "Will you please, please marry me?"

Her mouth worked open and closed, stuttering. "Of course," she finally choked out, and collapsed, hugged Ron. "I love you," she said, her face pressed into his shoulder, and he could tell she was crying. But he knew that they were tears of joy, so the fact made him happy.

Drabble, drabble, drabble. I like to write drabbles. Ron and Hermione are kind of fun to write, not going to lie. I'm considering combining all of my R&H drabbles into one compilation. Any thoughts?