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Movie Night by pumpkintoasty
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Movie Night

pumpkintoasty

A/N: So, this little plot bunny hopped into my life and refused to go away. Writing it was a lot of fun and I think we can all enjoy this little piece of pumpkiny goodness. Enjoy!

Movie Night, the Second: A Comedy of Errors

"Rocky?"

"No."

"Goodfellas?"

"Hermione…"

"Oh, we could go rent that new one, Fight Club."

"I don't think so."

"Why not? I heard it's really good and I promise not to salivate over shirtless Brad Pitt too much."

"Hermione, I just don't feel like it."

"Harry, I certainly hope you aren't trying to get me to watch The Godfather again. I told you after the last time that I wasn't watching it for at least another six months."

"Hermione, it's not that. I honestly just don't feel like watching a movie."

"Well, of course you do. It's Friday night, Movie Night, our weekly celebration of the evening we discovered our mutual undying affection."

"Yes, I know Hermione. And it's very nice, but tonight I'm just not up for it."

"Harry, you can fall asleep while watching it. I mean, movie watching is a passive activity after all."

"Not with you it isn't. You are an extremely interactive movie viewer. You may deny it, but you very much expect me to keep up conversation with you about why this-and-that character is doing this-and-that, things you've noticed since the last time we watched something, how would things change if such-and-such thing went differently…"

"Harry, you said you liked that."

"I do, dear heart. I just can't tonight. I just don't feel well."

"You do look a bit peaky- you're all pale and- are you sweating? Are you running a fever?"

"Uhm, no. I don't feel warm"

"You're right. Your forehead doesn't feel a bit warm. Rather clammy, really."

"What a precise diagnosis, Dr. Granger."

"Oh, bugger off. But, come to think of it, you've been acting a bit off all week. Don't go all manly-man on me here, are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, Hermione, I feel fine. I'm just …nervous."

"Oh, you are? About what? Is it work? I swear if Moody is overloading you again I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. I know, I know, you're one of the best, they need you, but honestly, he needs to keep a closer eye on you. I mean, it really wouldn't do at all for you to defeat the most evil wizard of our times only to be taken out while on stakeout because you're completely knackered and don't notice the lug creeping up behind you."

"Plus, you'd be rather upset as well."

"Well, of course, it goes without saying. But yes, I don't want you getting irreparably harmed at the hands of some goon after all the work I put into keeping you alive so that you could one day satisfy all my carnal desires."

"So that's what you keep me around for."

"Hmm, yes, funny boy. You are my sex slave and nothing more. What a load of hogwash. Love, truly, is it something at work?"

"No, no, work's fine. Moody fears you to much to let anything happen to me. `Most formidable witch he's ever had the misfortune to cross.'"

"Well, he shouldn't have pulled that stunt with the Amortentia. It was not in the least bit funny."

"As you demonstrated to him amply. Not nice at all to take away a man's roving eye."

"I gave it back eventually."

"A month later! After he walked into a wall and broke his leg!"

"He and Slughorn should have known better. They were grown-ups."

"Moody was ancient! The mediwizards weren't sure they would be able to mend his leg!"

"Hush, it wasn't nearly as bad as what I did to that horrid Skeeter woman. And stop tying to distract me: if it isn't work, then what's wrong?"

"It is something of a sensitive matter."

"A `sensitive matter' which is unrelated to work. What has Voldemort sprung back to life through a series of unfortunate events?"

"Uhm, first, no. And second, would that not be related to work?"

"I suppose so. But, honestly, Harry. It's me here, Hermione. What on earth is there in the universe that you cannot talk to me about, unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Well, unless it relates to me in the first place, but what could make you so wretchedly nervous that relates to me… unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Bloody hell, you're breaking up with me, aren't you."

"No!"

"You are; you've decided that I'm not pretty after all and you've realized how I nag at you constantly and you're annoyed about how I'm always at you about your work and everything and you've decided to break up with me!"

"Oh for cripes sake, Hermione, I really wish you had never dated Ron because your relationship really buggered up your self esteem. I love you, I am not breaking up with you, rather, I am asking you to marry me!"

"You're what?"

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

"Well, of course I will, but why would that make you so bloody nervous?"

"Well, asking someone to marry you is not the sort of thing you do everyday."

"Well, no, it isn't, but you just got me into a right state and I've just gotten engaged to the most wonderful man in the world with my nose all red and my face all blotchy from crying."

"You're still crying actually."

"Well, yes, but now it's because I'm happy and I already looked a wreck, so it doesn't much matter anymore."

"I think you look beautiful. And you'll look even more beautiful wearing this."

(Pause)

"What?"

"You have been saving that line for ages, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"That line. That line about the ring. You've been saving it since, oh, about the moment you bought it."

"Perhaps."

"`Perhaps'? I'll perhaps you, Harry James Potter. `Perhaps' he says, like I haven't known him since he even knew how to try the enigmatic stare and eyebrow raise. `Perhaps.'"

"Well, `perhaps' you wouldn't like this ring after all."

"Oh, no, no you don't. I deserve a gift after the emotional roller coaster this has been. Gimme."

"Are those the manners you plan to teach our children?"

"Gimme, please."

"Much better. Here we go…oh, thank Merlin, it's the right size… and there, we are officially engaged."

"Oh, Harry."

"Yes, dearest?"

"It's just… it's just beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so. Your mum might have offered some advice."

"We're getting married. You are going to be my husband. I am going to be your wife. I… I just can't tell you how happy I am."

"I know. It's pretty overwhelming."

"No, I mean, I really can't tell you."

"That's all right. We don't always have to talk."

"I know. That's why I think I'm going to have to show you."

And she did.


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