So I'm back with a non one-shot, romantic comedy. I know it's been a long time, and I apologize for that. I actually started this fic about a year ago, but I'm always anxious when it comes to posting fics on Portkey because of the high quality of work that everyone expects. I have the first four chapters written out, which means I can post those on a regular (most likely weekly) basis, but after that… As it's summer time, however, and I graduated high school (meaning no summer assignments), hopefully it won't take that long. My writing's a bit rusty, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it. Please let me know if I should continue posting.
Please read and review!!
*****
"I don't know, Gin," Hermione Granger said as she raced through her small, London flat. "I haven't the faintest clue what's going on tonight. He just told me to dress up and be ready by eight."
"And you honest to Merlin haven't the foggiest?" Ginny Weasley demanded, containing the urge to shake her best female friend.
Hermione shook her head. "I'm awful at this sort of thing," she groaned to herself as she pawed through her jewellery box. "These or these?" She showed Ginny a pair of aquamarine hoops and a pair of sapphire studs.
"You're wearing a sapphire dress, so my instincts tell me sapphire," Ginny said with a hint of sarcasm. "Honestly, how dense are you?"
"Well I'm sorry if I concentrated on my education rather than fashion- "
"No, not about that! Well, yes, about that, but about what's going on tonight. Clearly he's going to propose!"
"Don't be silly," Hermione scolded, pushing the studs through her ears. She placed herself in front of her mirror, picking at her hair and frowning. "Merlin, I really am a disaster. I don't know what to do with my hair! Honestly. Dragging me to some black tie restaurant when he knows I hate dressing up. What was he thinking?"
"He's thinking that he wants to propose," Ginny said through gritted teeth. She walked over to Hermione and grabbed her hair. "Here, let me do this." She took out her wand and began making fast work of Hermione's hair, piling it into an elegant, yet youthful, bun.
"Why would he propose?" Hermione scoffed. "We've only been dating- "
"For three years!" Ginny cried, flinging up her hands. "Three years, Hermione! You should be married with two kids by now."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, Ginny, that's such an archaic concept. I'm only twenty-eight! There's no reason to be settled down."
Ginny gave a small scream of frustration. "For one, twenty-eight going on twenty-nine."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, indicating that this clearly wasn't enough to deter her.
"What about the fact that you're in love with him?" Ginny demanded.
"Who says I'm in love with him?"
"Oh come off it. If you didn't, you wouldn't still be dating him three years later. Unless he's a really good shag," Ginny added as an afterthought.
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked.
"Well, is he?"
"That's none of your business."
"So he's not. Pity," Ginny sighed.
"I never said that!"
"So he is?"
"We're not discussing my sex life!"
"Well then let's discuss why you're adamantly against marrying an amazing guy like Andrew," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione and pulling her down so they both sat on her bed. "I mean you do love him, don't you?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Of course I do, Gin, it's just…" she trailed off.
"Just what?" Ginny probed.
"I don't understand why he would want to marry someone like me," Hermione said, fingering the cloth of her dress.
"Because he loves you," Ginny told her bluntly. "What else is there to wonder about?"
"Gin, look at me," Hermione half laughed. "I can barely dress myself!"
"Surprising enough as it is, Andrew loves you for who you are, and really couldn't give a damn about how you look (which is amazing, despite your ridiculous notions). I promise you, he's going to propose tonight. So say yes, wear that beautiful ring he's bound to give you, and have a terrific shag after at that amazing flat of his."
"Gin!" Hermione couldn't help but exclaim. She quickly sobered as she inquired, "You really think he's going to ask me to marry him?"
"I really, really do," Ginny smiled. "Just imagine, after tonight you'll be the future Mrs. Andrew Maddon."
"Ginny, you know how I feel about that sort of thing," Hermione said, crinkling her nose at the idea of relinquishing her last name. "Anyway, if he does propose, I won't accept until tomorrow."
"You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?" Ginny groaned.
"I am not!"
"Yes, you are. You're going to tell him that you need to run it by Harry first, making him think that you're in love with your famous best friend, thus making him feel absolutely inferior. Not to mention paranoid."
"Look, I can't accept a marriage proposal without Harry knowing," Hermione insisted. "He'd do the same by me. He did, remember?" Hermione added pointedly.
"Yes, and when Rebecca discovered he asked you about the proposal before asking her, she called off the wedding and threw a book at his head, remember that?"
"Well Andrew isn't Rebecca. Unlike Rebecca, Andrew actually has an ounce of logic." Hermione muttered a few choice words to herself about Harry's ex-fiancée.
"Why don't you just run it by him now?" Ginny asked. As much as she loved Hermione, Ginny often found her rather tiresome.
"Because I don't want to upset him over something that might not even happen." At Ginny's raised eyebrow, Hermione quickly amended, "Well not upset him of course, because he'd have no reason to be upset, but you understand what I'm trying to say."
"Of course I do," Ginny said, giving Hermione a knowing look. "Though I must say, as much as I want you to marry Andrew, if you're more worried about Harry's reaction than whether the man you're dating will actually propose, then maybe you- "
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione interrupted, a little too quickly and defensively. "He's my best friend. That's all. He's just like you and Ron."
"Of course he is," Ginny muttered, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what she ever did to deserve such an oblivious friend.
The doorbell rang, and Hermione jumped up. "Oh Merlin, that's him, isn't it?" Frantic, she turned to Ginny. "What do I do?"
"Well, and this is just a stretch mind you, but if it were me, I'd open the door and go on the date."
"Oh…" Hermione moaned, wringing her hands. "But what if he does ask me?"
"Hermione," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione by the hand and dragging her from the bedroom, "do us all a favour and, for once in your life, stop analysing. Just go with it. Breathe, and go with it." Ginny flung open the front door, her hand still gripping Hermione's shaking arm.
"Andrew, how lovely to see you again," Ginny greeted the man. "It's been much too long."
"Evening, Ginny," Andrew greeted her, his grey eyes trained on Hermione, who was looking everywhere but at him. "Hermione," he smiled, leaning in and planting a kiss on her cheek (as that's all she was able to offer him with her head to the side). "You okay?"
"Oh, of course, never better!" Hermione cried shrilly.
"Don't mind her," Ginny said complacently. "She's just a bit off tonight."
Andrew nodded, though he still seemed incredibly worried. "Well, we have an eight o'clock reservation, and it's only 7:20. It takes just twenty minutes to get there, so if you want to wait here and calm down a bit…"
"Don't be silly!" Ginny exclaimed, pushing Hermione towards Andrew. "She wouldn't dream of it. Now you two have a pleasant night. Remember to stay safe!" She gave Hermione another shove, forcing her into the arms of her exiting boyfriend. "Tell me everything," Ginny mouthed after her best friend, who only stared in horror as she was carried away.
*****
"Where's Ginny?" Harry Potter asked, rather suddenly Ron Weasley thought.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean normally Ginny and Hermione are here, too. Not that I don't appreciate your company," Harry added when Ron made to object to what he considered a clear insult. "It's just that I know Hermione has her thing with Andrew tonight" - for reasons beyond everyone in the group of four friends, save Ginny, Harry could never utter the words "Andrew" and "date" in the same sentence - "but I thought Ginny was free."
"Slight change of plans," Ron shrugged. "Apparently Hermione was having a mental breakdown - what's new? - and told Gin to get over to her flat immediately."
"Mental breakdown? Over what?" Harry chose to ignore Ron's slight against their female best friend.
"Something about the fact that Andrew insisted on bringing her to some fancy restaurant or something. I don't really know. I heard Ginny muttering something about proposals, but I wasn't really paying attention."
Harry spit out his butter beer. "Proposal? He's proposing?"
"I don't know! I told you, I wasn't paying much attention. What does it matter?"
"Oh, please, you're really asking that?" a voice asked. The two men looked up and found Ginny staring down at them. "No one's that thick, not even you, Ron."
"When did you get here?" Ron demanded. "And why didn't we hear you apparate?"
"Just a moment ago, and perhaps because you were too caught up in your conversation?" Ginny responded, plopping herself on the couch and forcing Ron to move over.
"Is he really proposing to her?" Harry grilled Ginny, more fiercely than he intended.
Ginny smirked at Harry's reaction. While nothing would please her more than for Hermione to finally settle down with Andrew, she couldn't deny that Harry and Hermione's "we're too stupid to realize that we might just want to shag each other" routine was incredibly entertaining. "That's my theory, anyway."
"Again, what does it matter?" Ron cried out.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "As if I'm answering that. Harry knows, don't you, Harry?"
Harry stared blankly at the redhead. "No, actually, I don't," he admitted.
Disgusted, Ginny left the room and headed for the kitchen, muttering that she needed something stronger than a butter beer if she was going to get through the evening.
*****
"You plan on feeding the birds when we leave?"
"Sorry?" Hermione broke from her anxious trance that had consumed her since sitting down at the table and looked up at her boyfriend. He nodded towards her plate, which was covered in pieces of bread. Hermione stared guiltily as her fingers made light work of shredding up another slice.
"Are you sure nothing's up?" Andrew asked, narrowing his eyes in concern. "Because you haven't eaten a single thing tonight, and I'm fairly certain you could feed an army off the bread you've torn up."
"I'm fine," Hermione insisted, just as she sat on her hands in an effort not to dirty the table with even more bread crumbs. "Honestly. I'm just not hungry, and I had something on my mind." She wasn't lying. Of course, she wasn't hungry because she was anxious, and that something on her mind was the idea of Andrew proposing, but why should she worry him with such frivolities? "Why do you ask?"
Andrew laughed. "Do I need a reason to worry about my girlfriend?"
"Of course not," Hermione answered quickly, restraining herself from stating that the phrase "my girlfriend" was a bit too possessive for her tastes. But as misspeaking was one of his few flaws (for she knew he was too forward thinking to actually consider women objects in any way whatsoever), she supposed she could let it pass.
"Okay, good," Andrew said with a small sigh of relief. "Because there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Oh dear Merlin, Hermione thought, and she felt like she was choking on air. What do I do?
"O-oh?" she managed to cough out.
"Well, it's just…we've been dating for three years now, and I really can't imagine living without you."
Clichéd, Hermione could imagine Ginny commenting. But he's cute, so let it go.
"And the thing is, my company is moving me back home, to the US, I mean, and I don't want to leave you behind. I mean I know you could just apparate and visit me, but while I was thinking this over I realize that I, well…I want to always be with you. And not just as two people who are dating. So, Hermione," Andrew approached the conclusion of his speech, and produced a small, black, velvet box, "will you marry me?" He opened the box, revealing a white gold ring with a square diamond.
Hermione had the urge to faint, but as appearing weak had never been her style, she instead drew in several deep breaths.
"Marry you?" she repeated, dazed. "And move with you to the States?"
"I know it sounds insane," Andrew said quickly, scooting in closer, "but you could apparate to work, or even request a transfer to the US Ministry."
"Marry…and move…" she said once more, feeling like she wanted nothing more than to throw up. If only she had eaten something in the last five hours.
"I realize I might be rushing things, but I- "
"No," Hermione interrupted him, putting up a hand. "No, it's not that, it's just…" I need to talk to Harry, she wanted to say. But immediately Ginny's voice popped back into her head. Do you really want to screw this up, Hermione? Do you? Because that's what's going to happen if you keep on this path. "I…" Accept! You accept! "Yes, of course," Hermione finally answered, waiting for her breath to return, only to find she was having an even harder time breathing. "Yes, I'll marry you, and yes, I'll move to the States."
Grinning like a four-year-old on Christmas morning, Andrew slid the ring onto Hermione's ring finger, then leapt from the table and kissed her passionately.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to return Andrew's kiss, but she was a bit caught up with how, exactly, she was going to tell Harry that she was moving three thousand miles away.
And the litte thing involving getting married.
*****
So, should I continue? It's been a while since I've written
a long fic, and I'm anxious to know your thoughts on the subject.
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