"Noooooooooooo!"

"What'd you say, Ron?" Hermione poked her head out of her bathroom door just as Ron collected himself from his quiet yell of distress.

Ron turned around and forced a smile that unintentionally contorted his face, making him look like a dried peach, "Er, nothing, love." Hermione narrowed her eyes and Ron could sense an interrogation coming. He quickly added, "Go, er, brush your teeth or… you'll be late."

Hermione frowned but when she checked the time (twenty minutes to eight, three minutes behind her usual morning schedule), her eyes widened slightly and she hastily retreated back to the bathroom. Despite Ron's emotions being a whirl from the news he just heard, Hermione's unwavering punctuality made him smile.

You twit! You do realize she ruined all of your plans in a matter of seconds! You are not happy with her regardless of her adorable eccentricities! Ron closed his eyes in anguish. Merlin, she's leaving. Leaving on that exact day… He let out a low moan of despair and fell backwards onto Hermione's bed.

While Hermione ran around the room trying to collect her paperwork and clothes, Ron merely stared at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself. Hermione was too busy aiming organizing charms to notice the ill look on Ron's face until she had to retrieve her scarf which he lay atop of.

"Dear God, Ron! Are you all right?" She instinctively checked his temperature. "Wait, what am I checking your temperature for? Honestly, I'm becoming your mother; too much time with the Weasley clan…" Ron's eyes closed again, this time for the disturbing thought of Hermione becoming his mum, but the though was fleeting- Hermione's interrogation finally began.

Hermione arched a brow, "Well, what's all this about then?"

Ron tried to look as dignified as possible and replied, "I cannot possibly fathom what you mean by that question at all." The blank but dangerous stare he received made him rethink his response. "I'm just… tired; haven't been getting much sleep lately because of the absolute chaos at work, it being Quidditch season and all." Sympathy was beginning to appear in Hermione's face and Ron continued, "And the news about you leaving Saturday doesn't really cheer me up, does it?"

"Oh, Ron, it's only a week… I would have thought you'd be used to my trips!" said Hermione a little harshly. She lightly moved Ron's fringe from his forehead, "…But I am sorry for your lack of sleep."

Ron smiled softly, "Yes, poor me." He took one of her hands and kissed it. He sighed, "You need to go… you really will be late. Don't give me that look, I'll be fine. They gave me a late start today; I might be able to get a little more sleep." Hermione shook her head a little but got up to get her briefcase from her nightstand.

She came back and kissed him. "You better get some more rest, Mr. Weasley." Hermione lifted her wand and was about to apparate when she suddenly spun around, and Ron's sigh of relief turned into a coughing sputter from choking on his own breath.

"You came over to tell me something, what was it?"

Oh, shite… "Later! Go!" He pointed at her clock, ten to eight.

Hermione left in a huff, "Fine!" Pop!

He stared a little longer at the place Hermione's body once was, then, when the coast was clear, got up and threw a tantrum. He stomped his feet and shouted curse words, and after five minutes of this, he had to admit he was surprised the neighbors didn't hear him. He sat back down on the bed and lowered his head to his hands- partly from exhaustion, but mostly because of his anguish.

He reached over to the nightstand and picked up his wand. Conjuring a list, he vindictively zapped off Saturday morning- proposal and nearly burned the list up entirely, but he was able to restrain himself.

"Honestly, you're being way too dramatic. Why don't you propose before? Or even after? It won't make much difference," said a voice coming from the mirror. Ron looked at his reflection from the corner of his eye and replied quietly, "It's not that simple." His reflection responded with an incredulous snort but said nothing else.

Ron looked around Hermione's room, which twenty minutes ago looked like a hippogriff did a wild dance around in it, and now appeared brilliantly clean. Ron frowned at the doubts now arising in his mind. It can't honestly last between us. We never survived a day without having at least one riff. Think of the children! They'd be so confused by our relationship- they'd probably be in constant fear of us killing each other. That thought prompted a grin when he remembered one time when he and Hermione were arguing heatedly about the existence of something from the Quibbler while trying to make Christmas dinner. The knife Hermione charmed to cut carrots sliced up Ron's shirtsleeve, and Ron's soufflé went up in flames- making Hermione's dress catch on fire. It was the most hilarious event he had ever experienced.

Ron's grin faded a little, and he reached into his pocket and took out a sparkling diamond ring. Every glitter of the ring seemed to bring a happy memory along with it- a stroll through a park, a night of cuddling on a sofa, some laughing moment. And as Ron sat there, staring at the gold band and the intricate design of the gleaming stone, all the planning he did seemed trivial.

A proposal wasn't meant to be gaudy or magnificent- it was simply a promise; the preface of the actual wedding bond, nothing more and nothing less.

And Ron Weasley realized in that moment that he wanted to marry Hermione Granger. No, he really wanted to marry her. Who cares about being romantic? Hermione doesn't. She even said she had enough romantic stories to fill a ten by ten cauldron! I love her and, dammit, I didn't spend the last twelve years of my life with her to not be with her for the next eighty! She deserves the security of knowing I'll be with her forever…

Ron jumped up and shouted with a strong voice filled with purpose, "I'll go right now!" He quickly lifted his wand and disapparated, and he could have sworn he heard a whoop come from the mirror.