This is my little one-shot of Ron's proposal :) let me know what you think!
Ronald Weasley took a deep breath and uttered the words that ended the most important speech he would ever give.
"There is no pretending" Ron said with absolute clarity. "I love you and I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then. So...will you marry me?"
He looked deeply into the eyes that were staring back at him, anxiously awaiting the response. Silence hung in the air, only for mere seconds but to Ron it felt like a lifetime, he couldn't help but break the lull.
"Well?" he demanded rudely.
"Perfect." His best friend, Harry Potter finally responded.
"She'd be mental to say no." He then added, "not that that would ever happen, you two have been together for five years, if she's put up with you for this long she obviously quite likes you." Harry grinned and dodged a punch aimed at his arm by Ron.
"Seriously though, don't change a word. And don't mess it up!" Harry glared at Ron, who nodded solemnly.
He had been planning to propose to Hermione for weeks, months even. The problem was, he had struggled to find the right ring, time, place and words. Harry had been brilliant. Though Ron hated to admit it, Harry was much better at relationship stuff; probably because of the book Ron had given him for his seventeenth birthday. He had successfully proposed to, and married, Ron's younger sister, Ginny. They had married a year ago and were expecting their first child. Harry had taken Ron to muggle London several weeks previously to help him choose the perfect ring for Hermione. They had been in more jewellery shops than Ron could count and he had been on the brink of giving up completely when he noticed a tiny antique shop tucked away down a cobbled side street. He had only inspected the street further after noticing the cobbles were similar to those down Diagon Alley and the little shop had caught his eye. Inexplicably, he had convinced Harry to take a look with him and was thankful that he had. In a glass cabinet, right at the back of the shop, sat the ring he knew he would propose to Hermione with. The band was thin and made of white gold, a large ruby sat with two smaller diamonds either side. It was beautiful and delicate; just like Hermione herself. Harry paid for it with the Muggle money Ron had given him earlier; he still wasn't sure how it worked despite multiple explanations from both Hermione and Harry. The ring had sat in Ron's jacket pocket ever since.
After buying the ring, Harry and Ron had numerous discussions regarding the time and place in which the proposal would take place. Hermione's birthday had been and gone, as had Christmas. Valentines Day was approaching but Ron had ruled that out as it was simply too cheesy. The pair had concluded that it would be best to do it on a day that did not coincide with any other event; that way Hermione would be completely taken aback. Ron finally decided on a Saturday a few weeks after Valentines Day, surmising that if Hermione had any expectations of a proposal, they would be on the most romantic day of the year, not a fortnight afterwards.
With the ring and the date arranged, there were now only two things left to prepare: the place and the speech. Ron would never in a million years pop the question in a public place, he had immediately said 'no' when Harry suggested doing it in a restaurant. He had never understood what possessed people to display one of their most personal moments in their lives for all to see. Ron imagined it would be mortifying and , quite frankly, couldn't imagine anything less romantic or more ridiculous. What if the other person turned down the proposal? Or laughed in their face? There was no way Ron was taking such a risk. At least if Hermione didn't want to marry him there wouldn't be witnesses to his humiliation. No, proposing in public was not an option.
Instead, he had decided to ask her in the comfort of their own home. They were living in a small but cosy flat above a Muggle coffee shop in London. It was within walking distance to the Ministry of Magic where both Ron and Hermione worked. He in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They had both worked there for a few years, Ron one more than Hermione as she had returned to Hogwarts after the war to sit her NEWTs, which, of course, she had passed with flying colours.
Their flat had two bedrooms, one of which Hermione had converted to an office-come-library to hold her vast collection of both Muggle and magical books. It also contained a beautiful solid oak desk at which Ron would find her sitting most nights when he arrived home from work.
The kitchen wasn't big enough to swing a kneazle and Hermione often complained that there wasn't nearly enough space to cook a decent meal in. This was often the beginning of a familiar heated discussion between the two, for Ron always told her to cook using magic and Hermione would argue that just because she could use her wand to cook doesn't mean she had to. They would always make up soon after and Hermione's cooking was always delicious regardless of the means in which it was made. Despite the small kitchen, the combined living and dining room was plenty spacious. Ron loved nothing more than sitting down with Hermione on their large charcoal grey corner sofa after a long day at work. Although he had some trepidation about it at first, Ron loved the television, it was by far his favourite muggle invention. Growing up with a father obsessed with muggles and their customs, he had seen televisions before, but never one that worked properly as the one he now owned did. He loved putting his feet up and watching muggle soap operas, though even under interrogation he would never admit to liking them to anyone other than Hermione.
Yes, their little home was definitely the ideal place for the proposal. It was where they both felt happiest and had been the first serious step they had taken both into their relationship and into adulthood, it made perfect to take the next step there too.
And so, weeks after buying the ring, the day had finally arrived. Ginny had been informed of Ron's plans and after several minutes of excited squealing and crying; both of which were blamed on pregnancy hormones, she had agreed to assist in keeping Hermione out of the way for the day so that Ron could prepare. The two women had left early that morning for what Ginny had described as 'a mammoth shopping trip for baby things'. Ron had spent the last week writing and re-writing, practicing and changing what he would say to Hermione when he finally proposed. Harry had apparated shortly after they had left so that Ron could share the speech he had finally settled on and get Harry's opinions of it. Speech approved, Ron set to work cooking Hermione a romantic meal: the Muggle way. Harry agreed to stick around to make sure Ron didn't set the kitchen on fire.
Several hours, countless swear words, two huge tantrums from Ron and one laughing fit from Harry later, the meal was made. Ron had also set the dining table, complete with confusing restaurant-style cutlery layout, candles, wine and wine glasses. He had even cleaned the kitchen, admittedly he had used magic for that part.
He was now sitting at the dining table, in his best muggle suit, ring in his pocket, facing the door that Hermione would be walking through any second.
A few hours later, Hermione finally laid down her knife and fork and pushed her plate away from her, hand resting on her full stomach.
"Well, Ronald, I have to say I'm impressed; that was delicious. I'm still confused though. This was such a lovely surprise to come home to, you realise that it's not my birthday?"
Ron chuckled nervously. "Give me some credit Hermione, I've known you for twelve years, I know when your birthday is!"
"I know, I'm teasing. Are you sure you're alright? Not only did you actually enter the kitchen and cook a meal, the muggle way nonetheless, you've been acting weird since I arrived home..."
"I'm fine, honestly. Actually...I'm more than just fine." This was it. Ron sat up straight in his chair and took a deep breath in. He felt sick with nerves and wished that he hadn't eaten so much. He continued, "I've been so much more than fine since you let an idiot like me be your boyfriend. You are so much more than I deserve; gorgeous, kind and smarter than anyone I have ever met, or will ever meet."
"Ron, I-" Hermione began but Ron cut her off.
"Please, let me finish. I know that I can be a total pain, that we bicker, and for the first six years we knew each other I was a prat to you. I know that I'm not as clever as you, I don't like the same books as you, or any books for that matter. I know that sometimes I spend my days of watching the Chudley Cannons playing absolutely abysmal quidditch instead of spending time with you and I know that you hate it when I tell you to cook with magic in our too-small kitchen. But I also know that you are wonderful enough to love me in spite of all that. That you are the most infuriatingly intelligent woman I've ever met, and that you love when I call you that. I know that you love when I watch those Muggle programmes with you and you love me enough to keep that a secret between us. I know that you love when we have a lie in on Sunday mornings and I read the Daily Prophet to you in bed. And there is one thing that I've known for longer than I care to admit and will know for the rest of my life. It's simple." For the second time that day, Ron ended the speech that he knew would change his life. "There is no pretending." He said with absolute clarity. "I love you and I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then. So...will you marry me?" He got down on one knee and held out the box that contained the ring he had been so meticulous in choosing.
Hermione, for once in her life, was speechless. Ron had never been the most loquacious person and yet she had just heard him give the most beautiful speech she'd ever heard. She could not find the right words to express how desperately she wanted to marry him, how she had been waiting for him to say those four words that would change her life, how she loved him the same way. She simply could not speak. Instead, she wiped away the tears that were now cascading down her face, uselessly as they were instantly replaced by more, and nodded her head.
"Y...is that...was that a yes?" Ron stammered.
Hermione nodded once more and Ron stood up from his kneeling position, put the ring on the table and pulled Hermione out of her seat. He placed both hands tenderly on either side of her face and kissed her as though his life depended on it. Tears fell down both of their faces now. Suddenly, Ron realised that he was supposed to have given Hermione the ring once she had said yes. Very unromantically, he pulled away, dried his eyes on his shirt sleeve and sniffed heavily. He removed the ring from it's box, took Hermione's left hand in his and gently slid the delicate ring on her finger, where it would stay for the rest of their lives together.