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Daydreaming
By the Drunk Elves


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Winky: R/Hr, one-shot, hopefully funny.
Dobby: As was intended.
Winky: Ahem.
Dobby: Yes, well.
Winky: Just read.

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“Hello, Hermione,” said Ron as he passed her in the Gryffindor common room. No wait, she was sitting at an empty table in The Three Broomsticks. For no particular reason, she was wearing beautiful sparkly silver robes – no wait, they were blue – and her hair was straightened to perfection.

“Hello, Ron,” Hermione replied, although that wasn’t what she really said. She said, “So, the Quidditch star Ron Weasley has decided to talk to us common spectators?” and flashed him a playful smile. Actually, no, she didn’t say that because that could be misconstrued as nasty. She really just smiled adorably and said, “Hi, Ron.”

“Mind if I sit with you?” Ron asked, and suddenly he was dressed in navy blue dress robes which offset his blue eyes. Hermione took in the dress robes – they were obviously expensive and Ron must have done a lot to look good for her – and she finally looked up at his eyes before she nervously turned away…no, rather before he nervously turned away because he was the nervous and anxious one.

“Ron, of course you can sit with me,” said Hermione, feeling curious as to what he wanted to talk to her about. “Whatever is the matter?” she asked, for it was perfectly obvious that something was the matter with the boy (the very cute boy) in front of her. Hermione could barely keep from melting at the sight of him, but she did a wonderful job of hiding it and he had no clue of her true feelings, of course.

“You see,” began Ron, his deep blue eyes looking earnestly at her. “There’s been something I’ve been wanting – needing – to tell you for ages, but I just don’t know how to start…” He trailed off and looked deep into her eyes – her soul – no, he didn’t do that. Because he was, as stated above, nervous and anxious, he looked at his shoes and also because showing his nervousness made him look even more adorable.

“Oh, Ron!” cried Hermione, batting her eyelashes. Except of course, she didn’t do anything of the sort because it would’ve made her look like Parvati and Lavender. Instead she said in a sophisticated and empathetic way (for of course, she was extremely sophisticated, regal, stunningly beautiful, delightfully well-mannered, etc), “Oh Ron, you can tell me anything.”

“You see,” began Ron again (but of course, Ron Weasley was not in the least repetitive or boring so he actually said “Well”), “I don’t think I can put it into words…”

Hermione looked surprised and confused (and of course, so adorable that Ron’s ears turned red, making him look even cuter). What on earth was Ron trying to tell her?

“…so I wrote this song a few weeks ago.”

Ron rose suddenly from his seat and climbed up the stairs to a stage that had been left over from some concert (or no, even better, he had planned the whole thing with the stage and the lights – which were dimming – and the music – which was softly playing – as Hermione stared, awestruck at the romantic setting in front of her.)

“Oh Hermione, I love you…

Lalalalalalalalalalalala…

I love you so much, lalala…

I dream only of you, lalala…

I will love you until I die…

And forever after, lalala…”


Hermione watched in rapt silence as Ron crooned into the mike, his blue eyes watching her soulfully. It was perfectly clear that he was putting his heart into it and this revelation caused Hermione’s own to beat erratically.

Once the song ended (to the enthusiastic applause of the extremely large crowd of students who had witnessed it all) he walked over to her, bent down on one knee, looked into her eyes – her soul (now was the appropriate time for such interaction) – and said,

“Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Hermione looked down to see that he was holding out the most beautiful engagement ring imaginable. Her heart stopped…

“Wait, what will Harry say?”

“Oh, Harry, he’ll be fine about it,” said Ron, laughing it off. “In fact he’ll encourage it. Besides, he’s too busy mooning over Cho Chang to worry about it.”

Suddenly, the last few lines of dialogue never happened.

Once Ron was finished singing the heavenly song (to the loud applause of the extremely large crowd of students who were watching for some reason) he walked over to her, bent down on one knee, looked deep into her eyes – her soul – and said,

“Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Hermione looked down to see that he was holding out the most beautiful engagement ring imaginable. Her heart stopped…

“But we’re too young! We’re only fourteen-”

“No, we’re nineteen, silly,” laughed Ron, stroking her cheek. Hermione shivered pleasantly at the touch.

“Oh, of course,” she giggled, then they went back in time so the proposal could happen properly.

Once Ron was finished singing the heavenly song (to the loud applause of the extremely large crowd of students who had walked in and watched for no particular reason) he walked over to her, bent down on one knee, looked deep into her eyes – her soul – and said,

“Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Hermione looked down to see that he was holding out the most beautiful engagement ring imaginable. Her heart stopped…

“Oh, Ron, of course I will!” she cried, and suddenly she was wearing beautiful wedding robes and when she looked at Ron, he was dressed in the proper groom attire. They walked hand-in-hand to the church which was conveniently located inside the Three Broomsticks where a minister was waiting for them. The extremely large audience to Ron’s song became the wedding audience and she could see her mother in the front row, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Do you, Ron, take this woman to be your wife?”

“I do,” said Ron, looking deep into her eyes – her soul – with an expression Hermione knew she would treasure as time passed.

“And do you, Hermione, take this man to be your husband?”

“I do,” she said firmly, not taking her eyes away from Ron’s expressive blue ones.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the minister exclaimed, continuing on with the words Hermione had been waiting for: “You may now kiss the bride.”

Hermione moved in towards Ron, her one true love, her husband. He too was leaning towards her. Her heartbeat became erratic and she began to close her eyes…she saw Ron do the same…she moved her lips into the kissing position…she could feel the touch of his hand on her cheek…his breath on her face…then…

“Miss Granger, may I ask what you find so touching in this number chart? I do not recall being made to sigh lovingly when I looked at it!”

Hermione sat up straight, a guilty look in her eyes as Professor Vector, the Arithmancy witch looked sternly at her.

“A point from Gryffindor for daydreaming. Now, moving on to the changings of the numbers to different positions to cast a…”

Hermione slumped back in her chair and resignedly began taking notes. She had lost a point for her house. Oh well, she thought, some things are worth it.

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Winky: Ahem. -----coughstoopidcough-----
Dobby: Sorry.
Winky: Dobby recently sustained a bad bite from a rabid plot-bunny.
Dobby: Feel sorry for me.
Winky: I feel more sorry for our readers, actually.
Dobby: Ahem, well. Review to make me feel better. Please.

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