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The Way You Want It by pottersweetie
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The Way You Want It

pottersweetie

Chapter Three
And It's About Time

Author's Note: Those reviews are the best! And here is chapter three!

I lay in bed waiting for Harry to get out of work. It's become difficult to stifle the yawns escaping my mouth. My eyes are tired, pained and heavy as they fight to stay open. The television is on pretty loud, blaring canned laughter at me as an attempt to keep me awake. My bed is so comfortable though and my whole body is tired and lazy and I just want to sleep.

But I want to stay awake and talk to Harry when he's done with work.

I get out of bed and walk to the kitchen in my flannel bottoms and long-sleeved thermal top. It may be summer outside, but my flat is freezing.

I shiver as I look at the clock; 1:06.

Oh God, where the hell is he?

I pull the elastic band off my wrist and pull my wild hair into a messy bun. Then I reach into the refrigerator for a huge, liter of soda. If I'm going to stay awake I might as well do it right.

About half a liter of root beer and two and a half slices of cold, leftover pizza later I'm still drowsy. Still half-asleep, now with an upset stomach.

I walk around the flat for awhile, trying to wake myself up. I do stretches, I dance, I watch scary movies, action movies that should keep me at the edge of my seat. But nothing seems to work. I come to the conclusion that if I just lay in my bed and rest a little more I'll be more awake for when Harry does call.

I'm passed out within five minutes.
______________________________________________________________________________

I wake up to Harry crawling into bed next to me. He's still dressed in his jeans, but he's taken his shirt and shoes off.

"Harry?" I say quite groggily, turning my head round to see him pulling the quilt over him.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you."

I shake my head, rubbing my eyes a little, "No, that's f-fine," I reply. "Did you just get here? What time is it?"

"Almost two."

"God, what did they have you doing for that long?"

He groans, rubbing his neck a little in the dim light of the bed-side lamp. "They thought the Minister of Magic's niece had been kidnapped. Turns out she was playing hide-and-seek with her imaginary friend, Jasper."

I laugh a little, "Aw, you poor thing."

He shakes his head, "Turns out Jasper just forgot to find her."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell him. "Do you want me to make some tea?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he says. "I much rather just lay here with you," he circles his arms around my waist and nuzzles my shoulder with his nose.

I settle into his embrace, "Hmmmm."

After we lay here in silence for a few minutes Harry says, "Hermione, I wanted to talk to you."

"What is it?" I murmur, my eyes closing heavily.

He takes a deep breath and when he exhales the sigh is shaky. His fingers fumble, moving around as if slow motion along my waist. I can tell he's nervous about something, but I'm so tired right now I don't even open my eyes. I knot my eyebrows though.

"Harry, what is it?"

He clears his throat, "It's just- I'm-"

"You're beginning to scare me," I mutter.

He laughs nervously, and then stays quiet.

"Wh-What-" I yawn. "Sorry. What is it you need to talk about?"

"You sound exhausted," he says.

I sigh, "I am, but I want to walk to you."

"Really? You want to walk to me?" he jokes.

I laugh, "I meant, I want to talk to you."

He laughs as well, "Aw, Hermione you're too tired," he whispers, kissing my neck. "Go to sleep, we'll talk tomorrow."

I'm too tired to even object, "Hmmmm."
______________________________________________________________________________

I wake up with the bright, morning sunlight falling across my face. I stretch in my bed and smile as the light warms my body. The window is open a few inches and a nice, cool breeze is pushing through my room. I smile to myself as I yawn contentedly. What a perfect way to wake up.

Just as I'm staring at the white ceiling, contentment crawling to my very fingertips, Harry walks into the room.

"Hello, sleeping beauty," he says, leaning over the bed, kissing my cheek.

"Hello cornball," I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down onto the bed.

He laughs, "Have a nice sleep?"

I think about last night before I fell asleep, Harry had that thing he wanted to talk about, I wince, and I fell asleep before he could talk about it. Should I bring it up now? or should I wait?

"Yes, very nice," I take a deep breath. "Hey, you smell good," I poke his stomach.

"I do, don't I?" he jokes.

I roll my eyes with a smile, "Did you shower?"

"Yeah, and I found some clothes that I'd left here that were mysteriously clean."

I shake my head as if he's impossible to deal with, "You know I clean your clothes when you leave them here.... I even clean your clothes when you don't leave them here."

He laughs, "That is very true."

We lay there in silence for a few seconds.

I can hear the traffic outside, not as loud as it could be, somehow subdued. It's a nice background noise with no screaming sirens or random beeps. It's just the sweet sound of rolling traffic, people of the outside living a hectic life, on their way to work, or dropping their kids off somewhere. Chaos may reign inside their lives right now, and they're not even thinking about Harry and me here, who are filled with perfect bliss at the moment. They don't even register the fact that there are people in the world who are calm and serene, lounging lazily in bed as they rush past. I love the feeling of being able to think about everyone else's chaos while I'm perfectly content.

Harry wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. I lean into his embrace and snuggle up against him. He smells like my soap and his body spray. I smile to myself and close my eyes for a minute.

"I love you," he whispers into my hair.

My smile widens, "I love you too."

"Hey, do you want breakfast?" he asks softly.

I don't open my eyes or move, only ask: "Do you plan on cooking for me?"

He laughs a little, "Me? Not today. We'll go out."

I groan, "I don't want to go out."

"Sure you do, we'll go to Markie's," he says, shaking me teasingly.

"Nooooo, Harry, their food is so greasy, it's not good for you," I whine.

He laughs at my voice, "It's perfect!" he pats my bum. "Get up, get ready," and then he gets up.

I groan again, reaching out for him to lay back down, but instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me up and out of bed.

"You suck," I say.

He nods, "I know, but you love me," he gives me a sloppy kiss.

And with that, I shake my head and walk toward the shower. After taking a quick, hot shower I wrap a towel around myself and brush my teeth. I open the door a foot or so and ask Harry what the weather's like. After he tells me it's really, very warm, I mentally plan out what I want to wear.

After brushing my teeth I put a fair amount of mousse in my hair so the wild curls will be manageable. Then I get dressed in my favorite pair of bright, plaid linen shorts and a light, white button-up shirt. I grab a pair of flip-flops and my bag and Harry and I are out the door within minutes.

______________________________________________________________________________

Markie's is a small little pub-type restaurant only a few blocks away. At night it's teeming with people, especially on the weekends. The bar is open all the time really, but it's lined with people at night, you can't even get to it sometimes on the weekends. During the day people usually stop in for breakfast or coffee, kids from university, parents with their kids, or workmen to grab a quick lunch.

When Harry and I arrive though, there's many people inside. We walk up to the bar, and the man behind it smiles at us. He's older, tall, with a round stomach. His hair is thin and whitish gray and his eyes are a friendly blue.

"What can I get you guys?" he asks.

Harry looks at me, waiting for me to answer the man.

"Can I just have some toast, with strawberry jelly," I think for a minute. "And some coffee, please."

The man nods, jotting it down, looking up at Harry as he does so.

"I'll have the scrambled eggs and sausage," he says. "Coffee too, please."

"Right-o," the man says. "For here or to go?"

Harry responds with: "Here."

"All right, if you folks would like to take a seat I'll bring it over when it's ready."

We say thank you and make our way to a small, empty table by the window. Around us are many different people. There's a man with his children, scolding them as they dip their pancakes into their juice. I see a woman with a slightly older man, they're arguing about politics over coffee and danishes. I smile as a group of guys, only a few years younger than Harry and I, tell animated stories, making large gesticulations with their hands. One of them knocks over his orange juice onto his friends laps and gets a smack on the head. There's a woman at the far corner of the room, skinny and disgusted, sitting with a man who's rolling his eyes as she dabs the grease off here scrambled eggs.

The man from behind the bar brings us our coffee and a little pitcher of milk, telling us our food will be ready shortly. When he's gone Harry looks out the window, his expression is heavy with thought. He lets out a shaky sigh and starts to fiddle with the silverware on the table. He clears his throat.

After he avoids my gaze for a good long minute I ask: "Harry? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" he echoes, slightly startled. "No, nothing's wrong."

I knot my eyebrows, "Then what is it?"

He nods, "See, Hermione it's just-"

He's about to answer when a loud, raucous bout of laughter and voices erupts from the door and a group of older teenagers go over to the table filled with university kids. They're so loud and distracting that everyone in the entire place stares at them for at least a minute. When they've quieted down Harry and I look at each other again and I wait patiently. He takes a sip of his coffee.

"You were saying?" I prompt.

"Right. Erm-Hermione, do you think- I mean," he clears his throat. "We've been going out now for.... awhile.... And we've known each other forever, right?"

Before I can even answer, a waitress brings us our food. After she's gone I start to spread the butter on my toasted bread, glancing at Harry tentatively. He doesn't touch his food, he doesn't even pick up his knife. I put my knife down and wipe my hands clean on a napkin. I take Harry's hand in mine and he finally looks at me.

"We've known each other forever.... Go on," I tell him.

He looks at his surroundings, "Maybe we should go somewhere else, this place is so-"

"Harry, just- talk to me."

He nods, clearing his throat, "We've known each other forever. And I think-I think maybe it's time," he looks away, wiping his other hand nervously on his pants.

I smile at him, "Harry, why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not good at these kinds of things," he says, mostly to himself.

If we weren't already going out I'd think he was asking me out. I watch him intently, my eyes tearing into his face. I give his hand a squeeze, trying to show him that I'm here for him, for whatever he has to tell me. Unless he wants to break up. Then I might cry. Okay, I'd definitely cry. A kind of fears rips through me, is that what this is? Is that the surprise? No, Robbie wouldn't tell me that I would like it if it was that.

Oh God, Harry just tell me what it is! I think to myself.

He looks up then, his eyes finding mine instantly.

His hand stops its subtle shaking.

"Oh sod it, I know what I want to do," he says, taking both my hands in his. "Hermione, I love you so much, will you-"

"'arry! 'ermione! What a wunderrful surrpreeze!"

I look up to see Fleur, Bill, their daughters, Ron, Luna, Ioan and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walking into Markie's. Harry covers his face in frustration and they all walk over to us.

"Hello!" I say cheerfully. "How are you all?"

They all say good and fine.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Well, Dad wanted us to take him to a muggle restaurant," Ron says quietly. "Harry and I always go to Markie's so I thought I'd take him here. And Mum and Fleur were going to go shopping in Hogsmeade today so everyone just decided to go to breakfast."

I nod an understanding.

"Harry, mate, how's it going?" Ron says to Harry who's still covering his face.

Harry waves at Ron with one hand, still covering his face with the other. I look at him strangely but he doesn't see it.

"Mama," little Patrice says, her strawberry blonde hair in tiny pigtails. "Are we going to eat the crepes?"

Fleur laughs charmingly, picking up her daughter, "Not today, ma belle."

"Harry dear, Hermione, what are you two up to today?" Mrs. Weasley asks.

I look at Harry who looks as if he wants to punch the wall, "Um, I don't think we're doing anything today," I reply.

"Oh, why don't you both come with us to the puppet show in Hogsmeade?" she offers.

"Oh, zhat would be wunderrfull!" Fleur smiles.

Harry shakes his head, "No, we can't go to puppet show."

"Why not?" I ask him.

"Do you have to go to work, then?" Mr. Weasley asks.

"No, I don't have work today," Harry replies.

"Then why can't we go? It sounds like fun-"

"Because."

Everyone begins offering reasons why he wouldnt be able to go, hoping to find the reason. I narrow my eyes at him, why is he being so odd?

"Because, why-"

"Because, I'm just trying to ask you to marry me!" he shouts, standing up, pushing his chair backward.

Everyone in Markie's turns silent. Everyone is staring at Harry. My eyes widen, my heart speeds up. I hear little Patrice make a questioning noise. Harry looks around him, as if he's realizing what he's done.

I stand up and walk over to his side of the table, "Is that what you've been trying to do? Ask me to marry you?" I manage to say.

He sighs, smiling sadly at me, "Yes, oh God, I've wanted to ask you for so long," he takes my hands again and kisses them, shaking his head a little. "I didn't want to ask you like this, not here, not now, I wanted it to be perfect."

I laugh, finding his current state positively adorable. Oh I love him so much, "As far as I'm concerned it is perfect," I throw my hands around his neck and kiss him fiercely.

When we break apart we're smiling, and everything around us is silent.

"So, what's your answer?" one of the university kids questions loudly.

Harry and I laugh and I look at him again, "My answer is yes, a million times yes!"

"Yeah?"

I nod, the smile still on my face, "Yes!"

He leans in and kisses me again, and the whole of Markie's erupts in applause.

"Hermeany and Harry are getting married?" Ioan asks Ron.

"Yes," he answers. "And it's about bloody time."

Author's Note: So there you go! Sorry it's taken so long to update! Hope you liked the chapter! I know I didn't write an uber-corny proposal like I usually do, but I thought this would be cute too! Next chapter coming sooner I promise!