Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognize from the Harry Potter series.

Fight

Now that the war was over, things were almost back to normal. After spending an entire school year under the control of Voldemort, Hogwarts was Hogwarts again. Professor McGonagall was the new Headmistress of the school, the Transfiguration teaching position replaced, oddly enough, by a very capable Celeste O'Connell, the thirty-something-year-old daughter of McGonagall's sister. The Muggle Studies profession was taken up by a middle-aged wizard named Theodore Potts, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was replaced by a former Auror named Lachlan Morrow, a young man who was not even thirty and knew Nymphadora Tonks well.

"Oh yeah, Tonks and I went way back to Hogwarts," Professor Morrow had told the seventh-year N.E.W.T.s students on the first day of class. "We were in the same year, did Auror training together and all. Had a crush on her since fourth year and dated her a bit in sixth year, but during training I got with Fran…." Here he had drifted off fondly and looked at a photograph he had put up on the wall of a pretty young witch with a baby in her arms who were his wife and son, who lived at the school with him (Fran had found employment in Gladrag's Wizard Wear in Hogsmeade because she apparently had talent with a needle).

Since Dobby's death, a number of house-elves were now asking for wages, obviously inspired by the late free elf. Kreacher took charge of the kitchens as Head Elf; he was also being paid. Hermione still preached heavily on elf rights; enslavement was still going strong for almost every rich wizarding home.

Every student left from the end of the war had returned to school to complete the year of teaching that was missed due to the misconduct of a few of the previous year's Hogwarts professors. Those subjects that had been dutifully taught during the last year were reviewed upon and more deeply explored. Even Draco Malfoy had bothered returning, but he was not much of a nuisance to anyone anymore.

Everything was almost back to normal. Even the regular argument between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in the Gryffindor common room one evening in late April.

"He wrote to you?! After all these months and you didn't even bother to mention it to me?!" Ron demanded of her.

The two were standing a foot apart from each other, their faces close and expressions angry. Hermione had just accidentally let slip that Viktor Krum had written to her in July, and she had written back.

"He was just checking in on me! He wanted to be sure that I was okay!"

"Yeah, only because he wants to jump at the first chance he can to get with you!"

"Honestly! Ron, how could you think that he would try to steal me away?! It's not like that, it was never like that! Even in fourth year he was concerned because he had detected how you felt about me!"

"Yeah, but you got with him then! Why should now be any different?!" Ron demanded.

"Because this time I'm actually with you Ron!" Hermione shouted back. "But you're getting all protective just because an old friend wanted to make sure I was all right! I love you, Ron, so much, but if you won't quit acting like this I don't know what--!"

"Marry me," Ron interrupted abruptly.

"What?"

"Well, I'm tired of arguing, and I figure we needed something new, so I'm asking you to marry me."

Hermione deflated, the heels of her feet slowly sinking to the floor so that she was back to being a foot shorter than her red-headed boyfriend. "Marry you? But Ron, I…. You can't just ask me that…on a whim—"

"It's not a whim," Ron answered, sounding slightly punctured. He fished around in the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small, velvety box. "I've been planning it for ages."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, Ron, I…you…. I'm so sorry that I doubted…" At this, she burst into tears and sunk into the squishy armchair that she had previously leapt out of upon arguing with Ron.

"Oh, no," Ron muttered, rushing to kneel in front of her. He took her hands in his. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I thought that we were ready for this…I mean, we're of age; we're nineteen…we love each other…I mean, we never really talked about it or anything, but we can wait, if that's what you want…." He trailed off, his throat catching on the last word.

"Ron, Ron, it's not that," Hermione replied, giving him a watery smile. Even kneeling, he was taller than her sitting height. "I was just shocked, you know how I am when even the slightest bit of emotion comes over me…" She waved her wand and a handkerchief appeared out of midair; she wiped her eyes. "I do love you, I do, I swear…."

Ron continued to stare at her, cracking a weak smile. "So…what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that I want to see my engagement ring, if you don't mind."

Ron's grin grew, and he opened the small box. Inside was a simple gold ring with a ruby embedded in the center of it.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione breathed as he removed the ring and slid it onto the third finger on her left hand. "Where did you get it?"

"Diagon Alley. I Apparated over there for a quick stop at Christmastime. It's goblin-made, you know. I had to take out a loan from Gringotts and everything, but it was worth it. I wanted to ask you on Christmas Eve, but we started arguing about something—can't quite remember what it was now—and you didn't speak to me again until we came back to school. I've been carrying around in my pocket ever since, trying to find a romantic moment or something, but studying for N.E.W.T.s and everything, those have been a little hard to come by. I didn't plan to do it tonight, but it just sort of came over me and, well, here we are."

Hermione stared at him with more fervor written across her face than he had ever seen. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately, her now adorned left hand cupping his face. The common room, which had disappeared around them, now came back into view as the on looking students clapped, whooped, and cat-called.

Hermione giggled feverishly as she and Ron stood up, arms around each other. Harry and Ginny (who had been "discussing Quidditch tactics" in a dark corner just moments before) came forward and hugged Hermione and Ron. Harry clapped Ron on the back, roaring with laughter. "Knew it would be sometime soon, mate. And, er…."

"You're the best man," Ron interjected automatically.

"Good," Harry replied, and then he leaned forward to say lowly in Ron's ear, "because hopefully I'll be asking you to return the favor soon."

Ron raised his eyebrows. Next to them, Hermione and Ginny were already discussing the color of Ginny's dress, as she was to be the maid of honor. Hermione turned to Ron with a half-scornful, half-playful look in her eye.

"I only wish you'd asked me sooner, Ron. I have so many things to arrange, because it has to be this summer, obviously. I mean, I want to have it at the Burrow, like Bill and Fleur, but I have invitations to send out, and we somehow have to get all of my Muggle relatives there, and your relatives, and then I have to find a way to quietly kill your Aunt Muriel before she decides to—"

She was immediately silenced by Ron's lips closing upon hers, and suddenly everything was so right that it wouldn't cause a wrinkle in between Hermione's eyebrows to be cursed for skinny ankles and bad posture even on her wedding day.

Author's Note: This fic is very old. I wrote it last summer as soon as I finished Deathly Hallows, and when I reread it just today I decided what the heck. I would go back and change a lot looking at it now, but I'm really too lazy. But here it is, and feel free to review!