The Burrow's spacious backyard was splendidly decorated for the reception by Molly's own hand, as she would have it no other way; white doves with the voices of songbirds perched in the ancient oaks and elms, singing gaily for passersby; thin tendrils of emerald ivy crept up the very same trees, intertwining themselves in swirling patterns, maps as old as time, and also curled delicately over the flowered arch that the bride and groom had been wed under; glass lanterns, levitated every few feet, glowed with the pale blue light of tiny faeries, and soft music reverberated through the air around the couples dancing in the grass.
Ron watched from off to the side as Hermione danced with his brother. Bill had abandoned his beloved fang earring at the polite request of his wife-to-be and the shrill demand of his mother, but as always, his long red hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that fell just below his shoulderblades. He was chuckling at something Hermione had told them as they danced, and when she looked pointedly over at Fleur, he followed her gaze almost longingly.
Laughing again, she released his hands and gave him a gentle shove in the direction of his wife, who walked into his open arms and stepped into the dance without missing a beat. Ron smiled fondly and fingered the small box in his pocket, which caused an icy chill to wriggle around in his stomach. Damn nerves. If it weren't for them, he would have had the courage to do it already...
Hermione walked up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Want to dance?"
He took his hands out of his pockets and locked them with hers, spinning out into the open space of their yard that was half-filled with dancing couples. By then, however, the song had ended, and they paused in step as they waited for another to begin. At the request of Arthur and Molly Weasley, a slow, beautiful waltz struck up, that was relatively unfamiliar to most of the guests, being an American tune. Arthur and Molly had loved the Tennessee Waltz for years, though, and soon everyone had fallen into the pattern without hesitation.
I was waltzing, with my darling,
To the Tennessee Waltz
When an old friend I happened to see,
Hermione's deep brown eyes were staring into his, looking through to his very soul, and the sensation that the look caused nearly made him melt. Her dark, curly hair had lost its unattractive frizzyness over the years and hung in thick ringlets at her shoulders, shimmering slightly in the dim light. The silvery-blue satin of her dress was draped perfectly over the curves of her body, almost liquid-like in the way it glimmered when she moved a certain way. But Ron's sole focus was on her eyes, and he was so lost in her beauty that it was a wonder he didn't crush all ten of her toes.
With complete disregard for the fact that it was his own brother's wedding reception, Ron probably would have pulled the velvet box from his pocket and dropped down on one knee right there, if at that moment, Hermione's eyes hadn't snapped away from Ron's gaze to look over his shoulder. The dull murmur of voices that surrounded them had gone silent, and a few people stopped dancing.
"Harry...!" breathed Hermione, releasing Ron's hands and rushing towards the tall figure who had suddenly appeared at the back, his untidy black hair still dishevelled as always, his round glasses slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose, and his lightning bolt-shaped scar right there for everyone to see in the center of his forehead. Ron could feel his face burn with suppressed rage.
Did he have any idea how long it had been? Three years. Three damn years since he had disappeared entirely in the middle of the Great War's final battle, just moments after defeating Voldemort. It had taken months to keep Hermione from bursting into tears the moment she stepped out of her dormitory at Hogwarts, to return to decent eating habits, and it had taken two and a half of those three years for her to accept that Harry really was gone.
And now, true to his love for the dramatic, the bastard was back.
Molly, who was closest, grabbed Harry and Hermione by the wrists and led them speedily to the back door of the Burrow, shoving them both inside and shutting the door behind them. Anyone with half a brain could gather, just from her expression, that no one was to enter that house for... oh... a good four days, at least. The performers, who had stopped the music to stare in awe at the Boy-Who-Lived, quickly returned to the melody while Ron simply stared at the back door where Harry and Hermione had disappeared.
Introduced him to my loved one,
And while they were dancing,
My friend stole my sweetheart from me.
It wasn't as though he wasn't happy Harry was alive and back, Ron assured himself as he marched determinedly towards the house, but he wouldn't be able to bear it if Hermione was still in love with Harry. He opened the back door and slipped inside, shutting it with a soft `click', and heard voices from the living room. Hermione was obviously in tears as she asked breathlessly
"Harry... three... three years... it's been three years, Harry... where have you been?"
Harry made a series of soft, comforting noises that nearly sickened Ron. "When Voldemort fell, Lucius and Bellatrix knew he wouldn't rise again. I was so weak that they stunned me and dragged me away easily. I've... I've been in the Forbidden Forest this whole time.
"What?!" Hermione gasped, her wide eyes shining with tears. Harry nodded gravely.
"They wanted to take over in Voldemort's place; reunite the Death Eaters who were still living, and start a whole new war. Lucius thought they could do it together... Bellatrix wanted the power for herself. She tried to kill him, but he anticipated it and killed her first. Pettigrew released me, because of the bond... Lucius killed him. I took his wand and apparated to Hogsmeade, but the school was empty for the summer, and..."
He practically collapsed into a sitting position on the floor, as if just talking about it had exhausted him, and it probably had. Weak and emaciated, he had dark shadows under his eyes and he was far dirtier than he had first appeared. Ron watched from the doorway as Harry pushed himself into a kneeling position and thrust his hand into the pocket of his robes - his Hogwarts robes, the ones he had been wearing the night of the final battle - and pulled out a black velvet box. Ron's blood ran cold.
"Hermione, I wanted to do this that night before we left the castle, but the Death Eaters attacked so fast that there just wasn't time... I wanted to look into your eyes, and to tell you how much I loved you... and then I wanted to slip this ring onto your finger and ask you to be my wife. I want to do the same thing right now that I should have done three years ago, because I love you now more than ever and I couldn't bear being without you again."
He swallowed.
"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"
I remember the night,
And the Tennessee Waltz,
Now I know just how much I have lost,
Hermione's breath caught audibly in her throat and tears streamed from her eyes, sliding down her face like liquid diamonds. Releasing the breath she had been holding in a sigh that sounded suspiciously like `Ron,' she threw herself forward and flung her arms around Harry's neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Yes, yes, oh Harry, I will! I love you..."
As Harry held her in his arms and ducked his head to kiss her, Ron stared blankly at the two before turning on his heel and marching silently from the house. He jammed his hand into his pocket and whipped out the velvet box, not even pausing to look at the ring inside, the ring that he had saved his sickles for two and a half years to buy, and marched out into the street with his wand in his other hand.
"Lumos."
"Where to, lad?" Stan asked a moment later as the Knight Bus ground to a screeching stalt in front of him. Ron tossed the box up to the young man, who flipped it open and goggled at the piece of jewelry inside.
"Where can that get me?"
"Hey..." said Stan, ignoring his question, "You're Ron Weasley! `Ey, `ey Ern, this is `Arry Potter's best friend right here!"
"I said, where can that get me?" Ron insisted, grinding his teeth furiously.
"Anywheres your heart desires!"
"Good. Take me as far away from here as possible," he said, and stepped up into the bus, ignoring Stan's odd look.
Yes I lost my little darling,
The night they were playing,
The beautiful Tennessee Waltz.
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