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The Proposal by Angel-Wing
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The Proposal

Angel-Wing

Author Note: I know, I took really long again. But it was only because I wanted this update to be the last one. Yes, you read right, the story is finished! Finally! Took me almost a year, which is totally unaproppiated for such a short fic, but I lost interest in the middle and started really hating this story. I'd be satisfied if at least you had fun while reading it.

That said, I want to thank Nitya for betaing this and Kris, because if it hadn't been for her nagging I would have taken much longer to finish this.

Chapter 14 - It's All Over

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry hesitated . . . Those words had come out of his mouth without him planning it. Hermione was looking at him expectantly. Was he about to propose? Why not? Why keep procrastinating? But once look around him made him desist. He was in a hospital, with Ron about to come in any minute now and there were too many eyes on them. Not to mention that he wasn't carrying the ring with him and there were still things that needed to be cleared up between him and Hermione. They had apologized because of the things said during that fight, but the problems behind it were still there. Certainly not the romantic environment he had planned all along.

"Umm . . . Here is not the right place to talk about that," Harry said, stealing a glance at Mrs. Weasley, who was whispering something with Mrs. Greene and pointing at them.

Hermione followed Harry's gaze and understood what he meant. Harry could tell she was curious and wanted to ask, but maybe because they were still shaky after their fight, she didn't. Instead she leaned back on the couch. "We indeed have a lot to talk about," she said in a low voice.

Harry nodded his agreement. "Tomorrow we could go out of London for the day . . ."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I have to help my parents, remember? They're moving."

The Grangers were moving to a new house and had asked their daughter for help, since her spells would definitely help to make the work faster and easier. Harry had offered his help as well, but Hermione had insisted he should rest on Sunday after the match. He was still in the middle of the Quidditch season and needed all the rest he could have.

Harry thought that having Hermione away for the day could be a good thing to clear up his thoughts a little. He was very confused by all the things they had "discussed" earlier in the day and he wanted to make sure there would be no sore spots between them when he finally asked what he had been wanting all this time.

* * *

Ron stared at Liz with a perplexed expression.

"You mean that Hermione is waiting for Harry to propose?"

Liz nodded.

"And she thinks he doesn't want to get married yet?"

Again, she nodded.

"And Harry, on the other hand, thinks that Hermione doesn't have plans to marry yet?"

Liz sighed and nodded for a third time.

"And all this time they've been fighting because of that misunderstanding?" He stood up. "Honey, if you knew this, why didn't you say something? You're letting them act like that just because they're too stupid to realize that they want the same thing."

"Ronnie, it's not my position to solve this." Ron opened his mouth, and she shook her head slowly. "And as much as you love them, you can't meddle either."

"You're asking too much. I can't stand seeing them like that with no motives. If only I could tell Harry that Hermione . . ."

"No," Liz interrupted. "They have to do this for themselves."

"Obviously, they alone can't do it, Liz," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "It wouldn't be meddling, just encouragement."

Liz patted the spot beside her on the bed and Ron sat down. "Don't you see? All their relationship had been on everyone's eye. Not only the press, but their friends, Hermione's parents, your family . . . even us. If someone interferes in this, then they will never learn to shut the door."

Ron looked confused. "I wish I knew what you mean by that."

Liz laughed. "It's okay if you don't. The important thing, Ronald Weasley, is that you promised you wouldn't say a thing. So I'm expecting you to keep your word."

"Fine," Ron sighed. "I better go and knock some sense into them now . . . And I mean because of their fight," he added when she glared at him.

"Ron?" Liz called when he reached the door. "I would look out for that Cho Chang."

* * *

"Be careful with that honey, it's the only memory I have from my grandmother," my mum said looking apprehensively at the crystal vase flying over her head.

We had already unpacked everything and I was helping them to move the things around the house. I was in a particular good mood that day. I had talked to Ron in the morning, who had said that Liz had been allowed to go home but was supposed to rest for a few days. Harry and I had been on very good terms. I was glad we weren't angry at each other anymore, although I knew our argument wasn't really solved. Only on the surface. The motives behind it still needed to be discussed. But I was hopeful that everything would turn out fine this time. Harry had said he would have dinner ready when I came back. I was looking forward to that.

It was almost six o'clock in the evening and I was helping my mum to organize her photo albums. That task was taking us a lot more time than all the previous things we'd done, because we opened every album and commented on each picture.

"Look, here is my wedding album," my mum said, looking at the white book fondly. I had seen that book a million times, and as much as I loved it, I had learnt to back away from my mum when she started thinking about the word wedding.

She must have sensed my vacillation (mothers know everything, don't they), because she said "Don't worry, I won't bring the subject of your engagement to Harry up."

"Mum, we're not engaged," I said, grabbing another album and flipping the pages. It was from my fifth birthday party.

"But you will be sometime, won't you?" she said, smiling at me.

I didn't answer and kept looking at the album.

"You know what your problem is?" my mum asked, taking the album from my hands and forcing me to look at her in the eye. "You're too schematic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"it means that you have all this outlines of what do you want in your life . . . You overanalyze things, and if I didn't know better I'd say you even have charts for all your moves. You're obviously expecting Harry to go and propose to you in some traditional way and you can't take to break that scheme . . ."

"That's not exactly true-" I tried to protest.

"It is, and you know it. You know, you should just sit down and tell him what you've been thinking. So what if he doesn't surprise you. So what if he doesn't get on his knee with a ring and ask you to marry him. Sometimes, women have to take this matter into their own hands."

I didn't give my mum the satisfaction of knowing her words had made more sense to me than most of the things I had heard lately.

* * *

When I arrived to my flat that night, I had decided something. Who cared about old fashion? It would be better to just talk to Harry and ask him how he felt about our relationship. Was he ready for the next step? Did he think we needed some more time? I was sure that once I got out off my chest all my doubts and concerns, thing would start to get better. Much better.

I quickly changed my clothes - which were full of dust, honestly, I had forgotten how dirty and messy was the basement of my parents' house - and apparated in Harry's flat. I felt like this would be a great night for us.

I should have known I was expecting too much when I heard that first sob.

Because, you see, the first thing I saw when I set foot in Harry's living room was the person I wanted to see the least.

Yeah, you guessed who it was.

Cho Chang, looking a lot less beautiful that she always does. She was sitting on Harry's couch, clutching a glass of water and sobbing. She looked very distraught, and it took me a whole minute to forget my soft heart and remember who are we talking about.

Harry was kneeling in front of her, looking extremely complicated. He was obviously trying to comfort her, but his face revealed that he didn't know exactly what to do. He noticed I was standing there and looked at me, helpessly.

"What's going on?" I asked aloud and Cho turned her head to look at me briefly.

"Er . . ." Harry stood up and walked towards me. "Cho is crying," he said in a barely audible voice.

"Really." I folded my arms. "Why is she here?"

"She got kicked out of her building. She has nowhere to go, and she came here . . ."

"Of course she came here! Why would she go to any of her other friends' houses? To Padma's, for example?" I asked, not caring if she heard me.

"Hermione," Harry said, looking at Cho, "she's in trouble."

"And why do you have to help her, Harry? I've already told you that she's not a nice person! And you and I were supposed to have a conversation tonight, remember?"

"I didn't know she would come," Harry whispered furiously. "Look at her, she's not alright!"

"That's not my problem!"

"Hermione, you've always been the first to offer a helping hand . . . I can't believe what you're saying now."

"I'm willing to help anyone, but not her! Not after what she's done to me!"

"I can let her stay here and I can't go to your flat tonight-" Harry started, but I shook my head.

"If she stays here, I'm leaving."

"What are you asking? I can't just throw her out!"

"That's an idea."

"But . . ." Harry fell silent and gave me an anguished look.

I glared at him. "Fine," I whispered and disapparated.

* * *

"I'm sorry if I caused you trouble," Cho managed to say between sobs. "I can leave--- if you want."

"It's okay," Harry said, still looking at the spot where Hermione had just disappeared. "You can stay here if you want. I have something to do."

And before Cho could say anything else, he disapparated too.

* * *

Ron was having his second piece of cake when the banging on the door startled him. He shot a look at his wife, who was resting on the sofa near the fireplace, and stood up quickly to open the door and whoever was causing so much noise. He was ready to tell off anyone who was daring to wake up his son on his first day at home, but the angry words stayed inside his mouth when he saw it was Hermione, teary eyed and rapidly breathing standing in the doorway.

She saw it was him the one who had opened the door and quickly jumped into his arms, crying. Ron had seen Hermione and her emotional outbursts more than once and he had never been sure what to do in those cases. He managed to close the door behind them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, although he had the feeling it involved Harry.

"He's a prat, Ron," Hermione said, pulling apart from him and wiping the tears that were on her face. "He's the thickest, most insensitive arsehole in the world!"

"I thought those lovely adjectives were reserved only for me," he commented, but knew in an instant that she wasn't in the mood for jokes. "What happened now?" he asked, sighing.

"She is staying at his apartment!"

"Who?"

"Cho!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Cho is staying at Harry's apartment?"

"That's what I said, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Why?"

"Do you have time to hear it?"

* * *

Ron nodded and motioned me to follow him to the living room. I sighed, and discarded my cloak. I didn't want to go back to my flat, and though I knew I shouldn't be barging into Ron and Liz's house like that, it was either that or going to my parents' and facing a million questions I didn't feel like answering.

What I didn't expect was seeing Remus Lupin sitting on Ron's couch, talking to Liz and having a cup of tea.

They both looked up when I entered, and I realized I must be quite a sight. My cheeks were red with anger and my eyes accused that I had been crying.

"Hello, Hermione," Remus said, smiling and acting as if nothing was going on. "I came to meet the new member of the family and Ron and Liz were nice enough to invite me a cup of tea . . ."

I greeted him, trying to smile, but it was easy to tell I wasn't in a cheerful mood.

"Ron," I said, pulling him to a corner, "do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

He gave me a look. "You know I don't, but wouldn't it be better if you went back and talked to-"

"I don't want to talk to him now! I don't want to be close to them."

He knew he wouldn't get anywhere pressing the situation, so he nodded and led me to one of the many rooms in his house. I thanked him and promised I would explain everything in the morning.

Needless to say, this was going to be one awful night.

* * *

"What happened?" Liz asked as soon as Ron came back to the living room.

"Guess," Ron supplied, sitting down.

"Don't tell me she and Harry had another row."

Ron nodded. Remus looked at both with raised eyebrows.

"Harry and Hermione are having trouble?"

"As weird as that sounds, yes."

"I had no idea . . . Why?"

Ron and Liz explained the situation to him. Remus was trustworthy so they told him everything they knew, including Liz's theory about the non meddling thing.

"Well . . . It's understandable, I guess," Remus said when they finished, leaving his now empty cup of tea aside.

"Understandable?" Ron asked, surprised. "Care to explain to us?"

"Harry is not used to see everything going right in his life, Ron," Remus said, simply. "That's why he is so insecure about proposing to her. He still can't believe that he is living a peaceful life with the woman he loves. Somewhere in his mind, he believes that it could disappear any minute. And Hermione . . . well, she must have insecurities of her own. Besides, she can sense Harry is insecure, and she must be interpreting that as an insecurity about their relationship . . . It's strange how the mind of those in love works, really."

Ron looked at him slightly confused, but Liz smiled. "You're right, Mr. Lupin. That must be it."

"I still think we should just tell Hermione what Harry has been doing, or tell Harry what Hermione wants so they can stop this nonsense now!"

Both Remus and Liz shook their heads. "If they don't overcome those insecurities by themselves, they will most likely have trouble later. Trust me, they'll come up stronger after this," Remus said.

"How come you know so much about this stuff Remus?"

"The fact that I'm not married does not mean I don't know about how relationships works, Ron," he replied patiently.

* * *

I was aware that Ron and Liz were looking at me while I was picking at my food. I could see them making signs at the other to say something. We were having breakfast in their big dining room. Ron was already up, ready to go to training and Liz, who was supposed to be resting, had insisted on having breakfast at the table. Brendon was sleeping in his cradle. According to Ron's first comment in the morning, he spent half of the night crying, but I didn't hear him. I guess I was too focused imagining what Cho could be doing in Harry's apartment . . .

"Hermione . . ." Ron started, finally, "are you going to talk to Harry?"

"Maybe," I replied curtly.

"He must be really worried . . ."

"You think so? I think he's too busy with Cho," I said, scowling.

"You don't mean that," Liz cut in.

I looked up, defeated. "What am I supposed to think? After all that has happened lately, he should know that her presence in his apartment is not exactly the way to fix this relationship."

"Come on, Hermione, try to put yourself in his place," Ron said, in a small voice. "If Cho arrived to his flat crying, what was he going to do but let her in? You know how he is. He wouldn't have kicked her out even if she was Snape."

I knew that. My logic had been shouting that at me all night. But the emotional side had evidently won, as I felt angrier at him for letting her get in the middle with every passing minute.

"Maybe this is a sign . . ." I said, sighing.

"A sign of what?"

"That maybe this was never meant to happen."

Ron snorted. "That's crap." Liz elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, looking at his wife. "It is! Hermione, you really don't believe that."

"I don't know, Ron," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, look at us. Friends for fifteen years and we rarely ever argued. And now we can't even be in the same room without having a go at each other. I always thought that this was the future I would have with you . . ."

"Hermy, everything would be solved if you and Harry just talked about it."

"Well, tell that to him . . . I was ready to talk to him yesterday-"

My rant was cut off by a loud banging on the door. Ron grumbled and stood up quickly before Brendon was awakened by it. Three seconds later, I heard Harry's voice clearly.

"She is here, isn't she? Please, Ron, tell me she is here!"

"Calm down, Harry," Ron's muffled voice said.

"I know she didn't go to her parents' and she didn't go back to her apartment last night-"

Harry's voice disappeared and before I had the chance to wonder why, Ron and him came inside the dining room. Ron drank the last sip of coffee before saying a quick goodbye and Liz apologized and left the room with Brendon, while Harry and I just stared at each other.

After a long moment of silence, he said: "I was worried."

"You shouldn't have been," I said slowly, playing with my toast. "I'm alright."

"Yes, but you didn't come home last night," he said, sitting across from me. "Before you left, I went to your flat and waited for you there . . ."

I didn't say anything. At least he hadn't slept in the same place than Cho, or so he said.

"Hermione, I am really sorry for what happened. When she came to my place, crying I really didn't know what to do-"

"You don't need to explain me anything, Harry," I said.

"Yes. Yes I do, or else you wouldn't be here, would you?" he sighed. "Look, I know you are upset-"

"You know what makes me upset, Harry?" I interrupted again. He waited. "That after I told you she's been clearly doing something to create trouble for us you still keep letting her do it."

He was silent for a second. "Do you really think that any trouble we might have is because of Cho Chang?"

Something stung in my eyes, but I forced myself to look at him. "You're right. It's not her. It's us."

I stood up and he followed me. "I-I didn't mean . . ."

"No, Harry. I think that's exactly the problem. We don't know what we are doing anymore." He opened his mouth to speak but I waved my hand. "Let me finish." I took a deep breath. "I think . . . I think we need some time apart."

"What? That's not . . ."

"I'm not saying this is a definite thing. We just need to be alone and think about this . . . I'm afraid that if we keep pulling the string it will all fall apart, Harry. I don't want that. I couldn't bear to lose you. So please, please just take sometime to reflect on what you really want to do, okay?"

Harry looked at me, shocked. He stood up too and walked over to where I was. I had to look down to avoid his intense green gaze.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered.

Not finding my voice, I nodded.

"Fine."

Looking down, he left Ron's house.

* * *

It had happened. Somehow, she knew it had. The breaking down she had been expecting was there. She had to be quick before they fixed it. She wished she had had more time to plan something better. But really, who cared about originality when what she had in mind would be effective anyway?

Cho gazed at Harry talking quietly to Wood in the corner. He looked awful. He hadn't even apologized for leaving her alone at his house all night. She guessed he had been too busy with Hermione. Cho couldn't describe how good it felt to turn the tide. Long ago, it had been her who was getting jealous over Hermione. And now, she had taught that petty witch a lesson.

She had observed Harry most of the day. He seemed pretty off . . . even angry. He didn't talk to her, and she knew it was wiser to keep a little distance. The last thing she needed was Harry snapping at her. During a training match, Harry somehow had managed to throw a Bludger to Alan square in the head. He had muttered an "oops, sorry," but anyone could tell he didn't mean it. Oliver had yelled for half an hour. Alan had looked really confused. Harry had stormed out of the Pitch to the locker room and had only come out a half hour later.

In the state Harry was in, it would be all easier for her.

* * *

I couldn't stop thinking about Harry all morning. Had I made the right choice? Thinking about it, the idea of taking some distance was quite absurd considering we lived right next to each other and we had the same friends. Maybe it was better to settle this right away. Argh! Why did it have

to be so complicated?

At lunchtime, I closed my office and went over to the Cannons' pitch, determined to talk to Harry and tell him my new resolution. The sad look that he had in the morning had been haunting me until it had become unbearable.

When I apparated there, they were still training. Only Oliver and Alan were on the ground, Oliver with his arms folded and looking quite upset, while Alan was holding a bag of ice to his head.

The last thing I wanted was to talk to Alan after all the troubles that had caused our last conversation, but, to my dismay, as soon as he spotted me he approached, smiling slightly.

"Hello Hermione," he greeted.

"Hey Alan," I said half heartedly.

"I didn't know you'd come here today."

I didn't say anything and my eyes searched for Harry who was flying up. I couldn't see his face but their lunchtime was about to start. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me talking to Alan, and I racked my brain to find a good excuse to get away from him without being rude.

"Listen, Hermione, we never got the chance to finish our conversation . . ."

"Hermione, fancy seeing you here."

I turned around and looked at Cho Chang who had just landed next to us. She had a small smile and I felt the urge to take my wand out and wipe it from her face.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, looking at Alan and then at me.

"No," I said.

"Yes," Alan said at the same time.

Cho's smile went wider. It was then when Harry appeared out of nowhere. I didn't even notice when he landed, but he has obviously seen us from above.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, his eyes more fixed on Alan than on me.

"I . . . came to talk to you," I said in a low voice.

"Right. Then what are you doing here with Wagner?"

I felt my face growing hot, and I'm not sure if it was because of the anger or the embarrassement.

"We were just talking, Harry," Alan said in a calm voice before I could respond.

"I'm not talking to you," Harry snarled in a tone I hadn't heard in a long time. I noticed that Oliver was coming closer and the rest of the team was landing close to us.

"Hey, calm down, what is it-"

But before Alan could finish that sentence, Harry hit him square in the face and he stumbled backwards, looking at Harry with widened eyes.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing!?" growled Oliver stepping in front of Harry.

"Stay away from this, Oliver," Harry said, still looking at Alan. "My patience has a limit."

"I have no idea what are you on about," Alan said, touching the place where Harry had hit him and wincing.

"I'll tell you what this is about," Harry said, and took a step towards him.

"Harry, stop!" I exclaimed, with the intention to get in between, but it wasn't necessary, since Oliver and the rest of the team got in the middle and a heated argument began.

"Unbelieavable, isn't it?" Cho asked. She was standing beside me, looking at the scene with an amused expression. She didn't wait for me to say anything. "How can a man like Harry even bother for a witch like you?"

"You'd want him to care about you instead?" I asked, turning to look at her in the eye. She just smiled. "I know what you are doing. And if you think I'll let you, you obviously don't know me at all."

"Oh, but I do know you, Hermione. I know what kind of woman you are. Strong and smart, but full of insecurities." She chuckled. "You may be a great witch, but you know you are not what Harry needs."

I stayed silent, looking at her dark eyes while they twinkled.

"Harry, whether he likes it or not, is a celebrity. People look up to him and soon enough he'll realize that he needs another type of girl at his side. You know you are not good enough for him," she whispered in my ear and then walked away.

"Hermione, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave," Oliver said, walking to me. He gave me an exaspearated look before going back to where the argument kept going.

He didn't need to say any more.

* * *

I don't know how much time passed after I left that place. I was sitting in a small cafe that was next to the Ministry, trying hard to control my emotions. I was angry at myself for not having been able to retort to Cho like I had pictured so many times in my head, but when she had said those things, my mind had gone completely blank. Now I wanted to say so many things to her, that I would have gladly went back to the Pitch . . . But I couldn't.

And what the hell was wrong with Harry, anyway? Why did he react with such violence? Everything was going so disgustingly bad . . . I felt like my relationship was going directly to the trash can and I was helpless to do anything about it.

"They told me in your office that you were here."

I looked up at the sound of that voice that I didn't want to hear again. There was Alan, standing in front of me. His face was a little flushed, and he looked slightly unnerved.

"Alan, I really don't want to talk right now," I said, taking a sip of my already empty cup of tea.

He sat in front of me, as if he hadn't heard me. "Look, I must say I'm extremely confused about what happened today . . ."

"That makes two of us," I said. "Listen, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not having the best of days, so could we please leave this for later? You have caused me enough trouble already," I blurted. There went my politeness.

Alan blinked and look down. "It was never my intention to cause you any trouble," he said. "I just needed to talk to you about this thing I'm feeling."

"Alan, please . . ."

"I don't understand!" Alan interrupted. It seemed that he wasn't even hearing what I was saying. "First, Harry throws a Bludger to my head, and then he hits me because I was talking to you . . . I mean, I knew I would have trouble with Weasley, but not with him too."

I looked at him blankly . . . That didn't male any sense.

"Are you talking about Ron?"

He nodded.

"Why would you have trouble with Ron? He is not my boyfriend."

He looked at me strangely. "I know that," he said. "But he is Ginny's brother."

". . . Ginny?"

"Yeah... I've heard terrible stories about him hexing the men that approach his sister . . ."

"You fancy Ginny? Is that what you are saying?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, that's what I've been trying to tell you all this time! I don't know how to talk to her, and I doubt she would ever notice me, that's why I thought that maybe you, who are her best friend could . . . Why are you laughing?"

I couldn't stop the laughter. The whole situation was so ironic that if I didn't know better, I would have said that someone was playing a prank on me. Alan stared at me with confusion while I laughed so hard that the people at the other tables were probably wondering if I was drunk. Of course, there was a lot of bitterness mixed in there . . .

"For Merlin's sake, Alan," I said, when I was finally able to talk. "Ginny fancies you . . . She has for a long time. All you have to do is go and ask her out. And those stories about Ron . . . Well, they were true before he got married. Now I think you are safe."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes lit up. I nodded. "I know you would help me . . . And I didn't mean to cause you trouble with Harry . . . Although I still can't figure out what his problem is."

I shook my head and watched him leave; wondering what would Ginny say when she realized that her beloved Alan wasn't really a very bright guy.

* * *

Harry was flying in circles on his broom. He remembered fondly those times when flying had the ability to take his mind off his problems. Everyone was gone already, but he didn't feel like going home yet. The least he wanted to do was to be close to Hermione if he couldn't actually be with her.

But she had come to the pitch today. That would have given him a little hope if he hadn't acted like such a prat. What had gotten into him? Punching Alan . . . He couldn't remember punching someone before, except Malfoy, maybe. But he couldn't help it. He was upset because of Hermione wanting to take some time off . . . And that bloody Wagner taking advantage of that was something he wasn't willing to accept.

And to think that only a week ago he was thinking about proposals. He couldn't even have a normal relationship.

He got tired and landed on the ground. Maybe he could go to Ron's . . . Although Hermione might have had the same idea. He wasn't sure if it would be good to run into her now. Perhaps visiting Hagrid. Yes, that would be nice . . . He started walking towards the lockers when he noticed Cho standing by them, her arms crossed and a serious look on her face.

"I was waiting for you to come down," she said. "There's something I'd like to talk about with you."

Harry eyed her warily. Ever since Hermione had told him about her suspicions concerning Cho, he had tried to keep his distance. Even more that day, now that Hermione was on the brink of dumping him forever, thanks to her brilliant idea of showing up at his house.

"I'm in a hurry," he said. "Can it wait?"

Cho shook his head. "Please. It's really important."

"But . . ."

"I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't crucial, Harry."

Harry looked at her pleading eyes, hesitating. It seemed really important, but he didn't want to have more problems with Hermione . . . After a moment, he made a decision. "I'm sorry, Cho, but it will have to wait," he said, passing by her.

"I love you, Harry."

* * *

The breeze had turned colder and I was still sitting in the same spot. The momentary amusement that had enveloped me after Alan's confession had been replaced with even more bitterness. To think that Harry and I had argued about an inexistent problem!

But that wasn't the root of it and I knew it. With or without Alan, Harry and I would probably still be like this. I wasn't even sure if it was Cho's fault anymore . . . Her words, that at first had sounded so absurd, were eating me up inside now. What if she was telling the truth? What if I wasn't the woman that Harry needed? Sure, I had done a great job as his friend, but what about as his girlfriend?

Maybe that was the reason why Harry didn't want to get married.

"Excuse me, young lady."

I looked up and saw an old woman smiling at me. "Yeah?" I said, wiping a tear and trying to hide the fact that I was feeling miserable.

"Would you mind if I sit down? I'm waiting for my husband and all the other seats are taken."

I motioned for her to sit down, not very happy about it. I wasn't in the mood for chatting with a complete stranger.

She sat down, and for a while remained silent. I was entertained looking at my already cold cup of tea, but after a moment I looked up to find the old lady staring at me.

"You look sad," she said, opening her bag and lending me a tissue. I took it, still looking at her. "May I ask why such a young and beautiful girl is sitting by herself, looking so gloomy?"

"I have problems with my boyfriend," I said reluctantly.

"Ah, figured it was a problem of the heart," the old lady said.

"We've been together for a while . . . We were best friends before . . . And for sometime everything was wonderful," I started babbling. It actually felt good to tell this to an objective person that didn't know me or Harry, and could actually say what she really thought. "But now all is a mess. His old girlfriend came back and is determined to take him away from me."

"Is she succeeding?" she asked gently.

I pondered the question. "I don't know. But with or without her, things are bad," I said, blowing my nose. "I think he's having second thoughts about us."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, he seems terrified of getting married, for example. After all we've been together, he is still unsure about our relationship to hold back . . . Don't you think that's strange?"

The lady shook her head. "Sometimes we only see what we want to see, don't you think so?" I looked at her strangely. What kind of answer was that? "I have some experience in this engagement area, you know?" she continued, giving me another tissue. "I happen to have a store . . . I sell engagement rings."

"Really?"

She nodded. "It's called 'Bonds'."

The name was familiar but I didn't know the store myself. "You must know a lot about this kind of problem between couples then," I said. "Although you get the easiest part, when they have already decided to commit."

The old lady smiled. "I've seen everything, dear. Sometimes, I see men that are so nervous about buying the ring, that I have to choose it for them. Others have a woman who's the one who drags them there. But I've also seen young men determined and very much in love. With one look in their eyes, I can tell they are making the right choice. The other day, for example . . ." she paused for a second and asked for a cup of tea to one of the waiters. Then she turned to me again. "Where was I?"

"You were going to say something about the other day . . ." I said, my head in my hand and looking at the lady with interest.

"Oh yes! Well, I was saying that there are some men that are able to make a right choice. For example, Harry Potter."

"Who?" I snapped.

"Harry Potter. You surely know him, right?"

"Yeah . . . What was he doing at your store?" I asked, a strange feeling inside.

The old lady looked around. "I shouldn't tell you this, after all, discretion is our motto at 'Bonds'. But he bought a ring for his girlfriend. He even had it pictured in his mind how he wanted. He took my favorite one. Then, he came back few days later. Apparently, he had lost the ring, so I made another one exactly like the first one for him."

I looked at her with my mouth opened. "He bought an engagement ring?"

"Yes. And he seemed very happy about it. He even said he'd invite me to his wedding. Can you imagine me? At a celebrity's wedding?" she said, giggling.

I didn't know what to say or think. Harry had a ring . . . Could it be possible that I had mistaken his attitude? That he was, actually, planning to ask me to marry him while I was thinking he didn't want to? I remembered that night in the Burrow when I had said out loud that I didn't want to get married. That I wanted a career. I had followed Ginny's stupid advice . . .

That's where things had started to go wrong. We both wanted the same, yet were thinking the other didn't. It was a terrible mess!

I stood up and almost knocked the chair. "Thank you," I said to the old lady.

She looked up at me and winked. "No problem, Miss Granger."

"You . . . you know who I am?"

"Of course. Now go, child, I'm sure he is waiting for you."

* * *

Kudos to the smart readers that had figured out about Alan and Ginny =D!