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A Question by GinnyPotter25
Chapter 1 : A Question
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 9

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[Disclaimer: I own nothing...Ms. Rowling and Old 97's are the mind behind this fan fic.]  
   The first rays of the April sunshine flooded in through the window panes, hitting Hermione’s sleeping form just as her old-fashioned alarm clock began to clang exuberantly. Her eyes automatically snapped open. Usually this was a very ordinary part of her daily routine for Hermione. The clock would signal the end of her sleep, and she would energetically get out of bed for a brand new day. There was nothing that held her back, longing for a moment or two more in her soft, comfortable bed.

   But today, as she basked in the warmth of the day, Hermione did not want to leave. She curled up closer to the light sheet her body was wrapped in, and snuggled into her pillows. There was something about today that she did not fully understand, but it was a strong enough feeling to make her want to take in every moment that passed by. But her darned alarm clock would not let her venture from her set pattern. It clanged louder and louder, till Hermione’s temples throbbed.

    “All right, all right,” she grumbled, untangling herself from the sheets and pulling on a light blue robe. The moment she left the bed, the alarm clock stopped ringing. She paused and looked at it in annoyance, wishing she hadn’t charmed the stupid thing in a fit of righteousness and punctuality.

    Sighing, she turned back to her bed to check if Ron was still asleep. He usually was. Even the godforsaken clock wasn’t loud enough to wake him up. The man slept not like a log, but a forest. So it was a little surprising for Hermione to find an empty space where Ron should have been. Not only that, the bed was impeccably made on his side. The pillows were perfect, the comforter tucked in where it should have been, and it basically looked like no one had slept in it for a long time. It looked Hermione thought, like how it would if she had made it. Not Ron.


   Puzzled, Hermione turned away from the bed and began walking toward the bedroom door. Maybe Ron woke up early and went down to the kitchen to find something to eat, she thought as she reached the landing and began climbing down the stairs. Like everything else about today, she felt a difference as she walked down…something wasn’t right.


   Just before she reached the bottom step, Hermione realized what had changed. She stopped walking and turned to look up at the stairs she had just climbed down.


   At the end of every day, these stairs were always covered with old newspapers, empty soda cans, and whatever clothes Ron decided were dirty and in need of a wash. Every morning, Hermione woke up and cleared away the debris Ron had left for her and then put the clothes in the wash before he woke up so that he would wake up to a spick and span path into the kitchen.


   Some might say it was excessive behavior for a girlfriend, something that might be expected from a very organized housewife maybe. But Hermione did it anyway. However, today, what had changed was that there was nothing – nothing – covering the stairs, except the thin, scarlet carpet that ran all the way down. It looked, just as the bed had, as if Hermione had already been through it and cleaned up the mess.


   Just as she was thinking this, the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted out of the kitchen. Obviously Ron is in there, Hermione thought, truly bamboozled about all this deviation from her normal, everyday life. Maybe now she would finally get an explanation from Ron himself. She strode into the kitchen…where she saw an even more amazing sight. 

She woke from a dream
Her head was on fire
Why was he so nervous?

   Ron was standing at the stove tossing pancake after pancake into a stack. Not only that, he was doing this dressed in his most formal outfit of pressed – pressed – black trousers, an emerald green button-up shirt (that was actually buttoned-up), and shined – shined – black shoes. He had even put on a tie, which Hermione recognized as the one she had given him as a present on their first anniversary. At that time he had scoffed and said he would never wear it because “it wasn’t him,” but now, here he stood, trying carefully not to get pancake batter on it.

   Hermione stood quietly by the kitchen door. She realized that she was slightly slack-jawed. She hadn’t seen Ron look this way since Harry and Ginny’s wedding two years ago, and even then he had been as disheveled as he could be without Mrs. Weasley ripping him into little pieces for ruining the wedding pictures. He had combed his hair today. Every strand lay perfectly on his head. It was all too, too much for Hermione to bear. That and the fact that the pancakes smelled absolutely incredible.

   She took a step into the kitchen and cleared her throat softly. “Ron?” she said quietly, now noticing the shiny countertops and organized dish racks. He had cleaned up here too.

   Ron jumped when he heard her, and the pancake he was flipping flew sloppily onto the floor. He turned and blushed when he saw her, his burning cheeks taking on the color of his hair.

   “Hermione!” he smiled sheepishly, quickly picking up the pancake that had fallen down. He didn’t put it on top of the stack he had already made, but threw it into the trash can. Another surprise. “You’re awake!”

   Hermione nodded. “Yes, I am. What…” she paused, looking around at everything once more. “What exactly happened here?”

   Ron’s face became anxious. He walked over to her and put an arm around her. “Why, what’s wrong here? I thought everything was perfect. Did I put something where it shouldn’t be? I’m so sorry!”

   “No,” Hermione shook her head, suddenly smiling. “Everything is perfect, Ron. That’s what I meant. Why is everything perfect?”

   Ron smiled; his face was still pink. He withdrew his arm from around her and beckoned her to the table. They sat down at the table and he began to pile pancakes on to her plate. Hermione looked at the table. Perfect. The setting was in order, the pancakes were amazing, and he hadn’t forgotten the maple syrup she loved with them either. To top it all off, there was a bouquet of freshly picked flowers sitting in her turquoise vase, instead of the fake plastic ones she had to resort to due to lack of time.

   “Ron, seriously, you’re scaring me,” Hermione laughed nervously, as he poured grape juice into her glass. “Did you break something? Because really, I forgive you!”

   Ron grinned and sat across from her at the kitchen table. “No, I didn’t break anything, Hermione.” The tips of his ears turned pink again. “I just…well you’re always doing stuff around the house to make it all clean and nice for me, and I just thought this would be a nice surprise for you. One entire day, you and me, just doing things your way, doing things you like.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Nothing, um, well, not a big deal you know.”

   Hermione eyed him suspiciously as she forked a bit of pancake. “Are you sure you didn’t break anything?”

   Ron rolled his eyes. “Eat your breakfast, woman, and don’t complain. And once you’re done,” he smiled, “put your best dress on.”

   “Why?” Hermione asked, confused. She poured more syrup on her pancakes. “These are really good, Ron!”

   “Thanks, and I thought, you know, you like the park. So we could…go there.” Ron blushed, rubbing his thumb distractedly across his nose.

   Hermione looked up from her food. “The park?” she echoed. “Is that what the office wear is all about?” She laughed and poked him with her fork. “You didn’t have to dress up for the park, silly!”

   Ron nodded. “I know, I know. I just thought you’d like it,” he grinned. “You always say how you wish I dressed like this once in a while, so I thought I would. Do you…like it?” he asked hesitantly, brushing bits of pancake off his tie.

   Hermione beamed. “I absolutely LOVE it.”

He took her to the park
She crossed her arms
And lowered her eyelids

   “I still don’t get why exactly you’re doing all of this.”


   Little kids were playing on the swings and their mothers were sitting on the benches, swapping horror stories of child rearing. Athletic looking senior citizens were jogging at five miles and hour, all over the park with no clear route. Amidst of all that walked Ron and Hermione, hand in hand. Hermione had shed her fluffy robe for a deep red knee-length dress that she felt encompassed everything that day was making her feel. The sun was shining brightly, she was walking along her favorite path…and this time Ron was with her, smiling down at her as she skipped on a couple steps out of sheer joy.


   “I’m doing this because it makes you happy, Hermione.” Ron ran his fingers gently against hers. They were warm as always, but there was something special in his touch, and she could feel her heart beating faster, expectantly.

    They were walking now in the secluded part of the park that she loved. No one ever came here, because the benches were broken down and there were weeds everywhere instead of the abundant flowers that covered most of the park. No swings meant no children, and the silence was beautiful to her. She laughed in glee and Ron looked at her, a smile on his face. No flower in the park could compare to how gorgeous she looked at that moment, her honey hair in glorious curls and swung as she made her way to a tree stump in the middle of the wild weeds.

   “This is where I always sit,” she told him as she sat down on the weather-beaten wood. “I can see the entire park from here. Oh Ron!” she gasped, her eyes shining, “you don’t know how happy I am that you’re here. Do you like it?”

   Ron kneeled down by her feet and took her hands from her lap. “It’s amazing, Hermione.” He looked up at her as she smiled, obviously happy at his reaction. “But you…you’re the most amazing thing in this world.”

   Hermione blushed. Her eyes sparkled, but she nonchalantly pushed his hands away. “Oh Ron…”

   “No, I’m serious. Listen to me.” Ron straightened his spine so he could rest their intertwined hands on her knees. “I didn’t just bring you here because you like it. I…well, the thing is, I…” he looked up, his eyes filled with emotion Hermione couldn’t quite interpret. “I have something to ask you, ‘Mione.”

Some day somebody's gonna ask you
A question that you should say yes to
Once in your life
Maybe tonight I've got a question for you

   “Go on, Ron,” Hermione touched his cheek gently. His hands tightened around hers and his eyes were more intense than she had ever seen them.

   “I want you to listen to me completely okay? Hear me out,” Ron paused as she nodded and then continued. “You should know by now that I love you. I love you more than any person, any place, and any thing in this whole entire world. And you should know that it’s been that way for quite some time now. I know that it’s not easy for you to be with me. You’re perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, and you’re everything I want…and I’m a dumb slob who makes you clean the stairs every morning because I can’t bring myself to throw my clothes in a hamper. But Hermione,” Ron’s voice shook like his fingers were shaking, and she strengthened her hold on them, “I’ll change all of that for you. I’ll make the bed and clean up after myself, make you pancakes, take you to parks…I promise I’ll do anything to keep you smiling, if you promise me that you’ll never leave me.”

   Ron’s voice broke and he buried his head in her lap. Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his bent head.

   “Silly Ronald,” she whispered, half-laughing, “how could I ever leave you?”

   Ron lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Marry me then.”

   The silence that had been broken by them was reborn. Hermione sat there, dumbstruck, staring at Ron, and he sat by her feet, watching her. Every second that passed by tore into his heart. Would she say no?

   Finally, she spoke. “Oh, Ron…”

   And his heart sank. “Yeah?”

   Hermione laughed a peal of joyous laughter that was like a favorite song to his ears. “You did all this so I would say yes when you asked me that?” She shook her head. “Oh you are silly. Ron, how could I ever say no?”

   Ron’s face, worried and anxious moments before, broke into a beatific smile. “Because you deserve so much more than me, ‘Mione. I don’t even comb my hair…”

   Hermione ran her fingers through his neat her, messing it up as well as she possibly could. She pulled off his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. “There!” she exclaimed. “That’s the Ron I fell in love with and that’s the Ron I want to be with for the rest of my life.” She leaned toward him till their foreheads touched. “You don’t have to change for me, ever. Because I love everything about us, exactly the way it is.”

She'd had no idea
Started to cry
She said in a good way

He took her by the hand
Walked her back home
They took the long way

   Ron beamed. “So you’ll marry me?” His hair on end, he looked like her Ron again, all red and grinning.

   Hermione laughed again, pulling him toward her. She lightly touched her lips against his. “Yes,” she whispered, her mouth moving gently over his. The kiss they kissed was magical. The silence broke into a love song, and Hermione melted into Ron’s arms, knowing that they would be in love this very same way for the rest of their life, no matter how many soda cans she had to pick up from the stairs.

Some day somebody's gonna ask you
A question that you should say yes to
Once in your life
Maybe tonight I've got a question for you
I've got a question for you


[A/N: Did you like it? Huh? Huh? Well what are you waiting for? REVIEW! Haha, this is my first extremely fluffy fic, so I really would value criticism! I was majorly inspired by the Scrubs episode where Turk proposes to Carla for this fic. I hope I did a good job showing that. If yes, let me know, if not, well still let me know! XOXO<3]

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