Current mood:	content
Entry tags:	fiction, h/g

The perfect proposal

Title: The perfect proposal

Pairing: H/G with a side of R/Hr

Genre: Romance/Humour

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Harry wants to pop the question to Ginny, but destiny gets in the way.

Notes: fluffy, silly H/G goodness written especially for velvethope - I hope this will make you smile, my dear ;) (Oh yes, and this is unbetaed... hope there aren't too many mistakes!)

 

 

 

“Ginny, my darling… we’ve been together for awhile now, and – well, I’ve come to realise you’re the most important person in my life. I can’t imagine living without you – you’re the only one I ever loved.”

 

Harry paused and reached inside his pocket for a small, velvet case. He opened it carefully, revealing a glimmering ruby nestled in a gold ring.

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

“Of course, dearie. Shall I ask Mum for Auntie Muriel’s wedding knickers?”

 

Harry let out a yelp and turned away from the mirror, stuffing the ring back into his robes. “Ron, what the hell are you doing here?” he snarled at his red-headed best friend, who was standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face.

 

“Just came to drop by a fresh-printed copy of Hermione’s latest book,” he said cheerfully, entering Harry’s room and handing him a thick volume.

 

Momentarily distracted, Harry admired the cover and flipped through it. “Thanks, mate. The gift of healing : developing magical empathy capacities throughout adolescence,” he read. “By Doctor Hermione Granger-Weasley. Sounds like her best one yet.”

 

“Yes, she’s very proud,” Ron said, sounding even prouder. “I’ve got a copy for Gin, too. I was hoping to meet her here, but I guess you can give it to her when you see her.” He grinned slyly. “Depending on the answer she gives you, of course.”

 

Harry felt his face grow warm. “I wasn’t really planning on – I was just thinking, maybe, in the future -”

 

“Yes, and you bought that ring because it was on sale,” Ron said, amused. “Listen, you’re not talking to an amateur here.”

 

It was true, Harry reflected. Hermione and Ron had been married for three months. It was actually seeing Ginny marvel over Hermione’s dress and the wedding ceremony that had given Harry the courage to follow through with the idea that had been haunting him for ages : binding his life with Ginny’s forever.

 

“So - how do you plan on getting around to it?” Ron asked, sitting on Harry’s bed.

 

“I invited Ginny to dinner in that fancy new restaurant, Chez Flamel,” Harry replied. He started pacing around the room. “I asked for one of their enchanted tables – the candlelight changes colour, and the air around it is guaranteed to look like a starlit sky. I think I’ll wait until they serve dessert.”

 

Ron raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t want to take any risks, do you?”

 

“Well, how did you ask Hermione?” Harry said, stopping to lean against a bookshelf.

 

“Believe it or not, I asked her in my kitchen - under the sink, to be exact.” Ron had a dreamy look in his eyes. “It was a Sunday – I was having plumbing problems. We tried to fix the pipes for two hours without finding a spell that was resistant to pressure. We kept getting soaked.” He gave a little chuckle. “Finally, Hermione decided to go use one of those Muggle contraptions – a money-wrench.”

 

“Monkey-wrench,” Harry corrected automatically.

 

“Whatever. The thing is, Hermione had the sink fixed in fifteen minutes. When I saw her sitting there next to me, dripping wet, her hair a mess, her face red and that look of triumph on her face – you know the one - I realised that I could not bear to call her my girlfriend anymore. I wanted to call her my wife. I wanted to wake up next to her every remaining day of my existence, have her bear our children, have her nag me and scold me and love me until we were both 150 years old.”

 

Harry smiled, and waited a moment for Ron to resurface from the memory. “That’s really beautiful, Ron.”

 

He shrugged. “It’s the simple truth. Don’t worry too much over this proposal thing, Harry – if Ginny feels the same for you as you do for her, it’ll be no problem.”

 

“You’re right,” Harry said, sighing. “I just want it to be perfect, I guess. She deserves it.”

 

Ron stood up and rolled his eyes. “I can only imagine the huge fuss Mum and Dad will make over this – their only daughter about to be sacrificed on the altar of innocence.”

 

Harry had to laugh. “Don’t tell me they think that me and Ginny never - ”

 

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Ron said, but he was laughing too. “I’d rather not think about it myself.”

 

 

*****************************

 

 

That evening, something happened to Harry that he had never thought possible – he spent more time in the bathroom getting ready than Ginny usually did. Vowing to take this secret to the grave, Harry slapped some cologne on his neck. Rummaging through the drawers, he found some products that had to be Ginny’s – moisturising cream, magical shampoo that curled or straightened your hair depending on how many times you shook the bottle, and all other sorts of lotions and balms. He considered giving himself an “Essence of Veela” face mask before setting off, but decided it would be pushing his pampering a bit too far.

 

After slipping on his best robes – an elegant set of a dark golden colour - and combing his hair the best he could, Harry inspected his reflection in the mirror, and decided he liked what he saw.

 

“Come on,” he told his reflection. “You can do this.”

 

He patted his pocket to make sure the velvet case was there, and headed towards the front door.

 

Harry lived in a wizarding neighbourhood of London, not far from Diagon Alley, on a quaint winding street where you could Apparate and Disapparate at will without having to worry about any dumbfounded looks. Usually, Harry liked to walk to his destinations, but he was on a tight schedule. He had to meet Ginny in fifteen minutes, and he still had to buy her flowers. Wizadring florists provided better bouquets than what a simple spell could provide.

 

Standing on his front steps, he was about  to swirl away to his destination, when he heard an ear-piercing scream. He stopped his Apparation just in time not to lose a limb, and looked around, his Auror instincts immediately taking over.

 

“Help!” someone was calling in anguish. It sounded like a child.

 

Harry dashed down the steps into the street, heading towards the sound, then came to a brutal halt when he finally stumbled upon the scene of distress that was playing before him.

 

A little girl was crying and pointing towards the heights of a tree, where a kitten was clutching a branch for dear life. An elderly witch was trying to comfort the girl, to no avail.

 

“He-he climbed all the way up and now h-he c-can’t get down,” the child bawled.

 

“Now, now, hush, dear,” the old lady said. “I’m sure someone will help us get Snowball down from there.” She looked around hopefully and when her eyes landed on Harry, she smiled widely. “Young man, would you be so kind as get my granddaughter’s cat down from the tree?”

 

“Actually, I -”

 

“Don’t worry, Snowball!” the girl called up to her cat, tears streaming down her face. “We’re coming to get you!”

 

“Maybe I can find someone else who - ”

 

Just then, the cat tried to make a few steps and almost stumbled off the branch. The little girl gave such a scream Harry was sure his eardrums had burst.

 

“All right, all right,” he said hastily, positioning himself under the tree and reaching for his wand. He had never been fond of cats, but there was a way to solve the problem fast and good. “Accio -”

 

“Oh, good gracious, no!” the elderly witch interrupted, grabbing his arm and squeezing it vigorously.

 

“Huh?” Harry said. “I thought you wanted -”

 

“If you use that spell, he’ll come rushing down, and he might hit a branch on the way,” the witch explained. “Can’t you find another way to do it?”

 

Harry tried to concentrate, but it was hard when all that was on his mind was the flower shop closing, and Ginny waiting in front of the restaurant.

 

“Okay, let’s try this,” he said, swishing his wand and flicking it. “Wingardium Lev - ”

 

The old witch gasped and held him back. “You wouldn’t dare!”

 

Harry turned around and frowned. “What’s wrong now?”

 

“Kittens have fragile metabolisms,” she told him kindly, as if she was talking to a two-year old. “A spell like that, if concentration isn’t completely mastered, could make the poor animal explode.”

 

The little girl’s chin wobbled. “I don’t want Snowball to explode!”

 

Harry’s patience was running thin. “Listen, madam,” he told the old witch. “I’m a trained Auror, and I believe my concentration is quite good - ”

 

“Well, goodness, young man, there’s no need to be snappish,” she said tartly. “As I always say, bad temper, no fair weather -”

 

“Yes yes, fine,” Harry said, through gritted teeth. “Listen, maybe you could try and -”

 

“It seems to me the only way to get this cat down is to go get him,” the elderly witch said. “But if you’re in a hurry, I’ll do it myself.”

 

Harry’s nostrils flared. “No - madam. That won’t be necessary.”

 

At least I won’t have to hear that old bag talk anymore, he thought to himself as he hoisted himself up on the first branch. By his estimations, he only had a couple of minutes left to get to the restaurant. He’d have to settle for a summoned bouquet. But everything would still be fine.

 

“Young man!” the old witch yelled up at him. “Young man, watch out!”

 

“I know what I’m doing!” he yelled back.

 

That’s when he heard an resounding rip.

 

“Aw, fuck!” he cursed, look over his shoulder to see the bottom of his robes frayed.

 

“You had your robe stuck on a branch!” the woman called. He noticed a small crowd had gathered around her to watch his climb, and were starting to talk among themselves.

 

“Oh Merlin, is that - ”

 

“Yes, it is – look, the hair, the glasses - ”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored them. He had almost reached Snowball’s level. Just a few more branches…

 

“Hey! Hey up there!” a young woman yelled, startling him. “Are you Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?”

 

“No, I’m the freaking Queen of May!” he bellowed, wishing they would all just go away.

 

Snowball was watching him with equal interest, but seemed still a bit reluctant to let go of his branch.

 

“Come on, boy,” Harry said, stretching an arm out to scoop him up. “Come on…”

 

Snowball recoiled and mewed piteously. The voice of the old witch came rising up from the ground.

 

“What are you doing to him?”

 

Harry thought it was best not to answer. There was, after all, a small child amongst the spectators.

 

“Come here, damn you,” he muttered at the cat, sweeping him up in his hand with one swift movement. “There’s a good kitty…”

 

Snowball mewed again and clawed at his skin fiercely. “Son of a bitch!” Harry exclaimed.

 

“Young man, please, control yourself!”

 

“He’s tearing my skin to shreds!” Harry protested.

 

Snowball managed wriggle free from his hand and gripped his shoulder, occasionally pawing at Harry’s cheek as he hurried down.

 

Harry resisted the urge to shake him off. “Will you – stop it – you damn cat!”

 

After what seemed like hours, he reached the ground, and Snowball leaped away into the arms of his mistress.

 

“Oh Snowball!” the little girl said gleefully, suddenly consoled. “You’re saved!”

 

The onlookers clapped, looking at her warmly. Disgruntled and sweaty, Harry tried to brush his robes clean and started to walk away before their attention would turn to him. A forceful grip held him back.

 

“Young man, how can I ever thank you?” the elderly witch gushed.

 

Harry forced a smile. “It was my pleasure.”

 

“Such a display of bravery must not go without a reward!” she insisted.

 

“Oh no, don’t think anything of it. Besides, I really must get going - ”

 

“Perhaps dinner at our place? I have some home-made soup -”

 

“No, thank you,” Harry said more firmly. It was all he could do not to outright growl at the old woman. “You’re very kind, but a friend is waiting for me.”

 

She smiled and winked at him like an overgrown schoolgirl. “Well, off with you, then – shoo! I don’t want to stand in the way of young love.”

 

Harry gave her a tight nod and fled as fast as he could without looking suspiciously eager. The nightmare was over… but he was ten minutes late.

 

 

*****************************

 

 

When Harry finally arrived in front of Chez Flamel, Ginny was standing in front of the door, holding her cloak tightly around her and looking as striking as ever, with her hair pulled up and cascading down her neck in a flow of thick red curls.

 

Harry clutched his summoned bouquet of daisies tightly and walked up to her. When she saw him, she broke into a lovely smile.

 

“Sorry I’m so late,” Harry said, breathless.

 

Ginny’s smile faltered when she got a closer look at his face and the state of his robes. “Harry, whatever happened to you? Did you get in a fight?”

 

Harry touched his cheek. He was bleeding from Snowball’s scratches. “No, actually – well, it’s a long story. I had to climb up a tree to rescue a cat – not just any cat, mind, a little girl’s kitten, you should have heard her crying…”

 

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny said, sounding highly amused. “I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into those situations… but truth to be told, I wouldn’t love you any other way.”

 

“I look awful, don’t I?” he said, laughing despite himself. “But it doesn’t matter, really – these are for you -”

 

He handed her the daisies, and she breathed in their scent, eyes closed. “You romantic fool,” she murmured. “You know I can’t resist daisies.”

 

“Yes, I know,” he grinned, brushing his fingers against his pocket to feel for the velvet case.

 

In the fraction of second it took for him to realise it wasn’t there, he felt his stomach fall down to form a puddle at his feet.

 

Ginny looked at him, perplexed. “Is something wrong, love?”

 

“Is something – yes – I would say -” He covered his face with his hand. “I’m the world’s biggest git.”

 

“You know that title is reserved for Ron,” Ginny said seriously. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“I – I - ” He looked away from her. “I wanted to give you a present – and ask you something that’s been on my mind for months and months. It wasn’t just any present, see… I don’t know if you would have it, and now I may never know, because blimey, I wonder how I’ll ever manage to work up the courage again to do it…”

 

“Harry -”

 

He shook his head, angry at himself. “I wanted it to be perfect, and messed up everything – I can’t even imagine why I went up for that stupid cat in the first place, because really, I should’ve known…”

 

“But - ”

 

He turned to her, looking straight into her eyes. The words seemed to come out of him as if they had always been there, waiting to be uttered. “I wanted it to be perfect, because you’re perfect, Ginny. I mean, you have an awful temper, and you always hog the cover when we sleep, and I know you tell me jokes when I drink on purpose to make me snort it all out, but you’re perfect for me. I can’t bear to imagine what my life would be if you weren’t in it.”

 

He had taken her hands in his, and she wasn’t trying to interrupt him anymore. She was just listening, as if she was hearing something she’d only heard in dreams.

 

“When I returned from the war, when we were together at last, I thought – I thought life couldn’t get any better, really. But now I know what  would make me happier – the happiest man on earth. If you would – if you would marry me - if you would be my wife, Ginny…”

 

Tears had formed in her eyes, and she let her forehead fall on his shoulder. “Oh, Harry, why do you even ask? Of course – of course I will…”

 

His heart soared at her words. He wrapped his arms around her and they kissed, slowly and passionately, crushing the bouquet of daisies between them.

 

“Ginny Potter,” Harry whispered when they broke apart. “I like the sound of that.”

 

“Sounds wonderful,” Ginny agreed, grinning. “Come on, let’s go home – your robes need mending.”

 

“What about dinner?” Harry asked, though it was the last thing on his mind.

 

“Oh, don’t worry about that – I think there might be some chocolate lying around – and some whipped cream -”

 

Harry never argued when Ginny got that blazing look in her eyes. Hand in hand, they walked away from the restaurant.

 

 

*****************************

 

 

The next morning, Harry was awoken by the sound of someone knocking on the door. He grunted and willed himself to get up. Every bone in his body ached. It had been a rough night, celebrating their engagement. He certainly never look at his desk the same way – nor his shower head.

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said as the knocks got louder.

 

He threw on a bathrobe and stumbled down the stairs. When he opened the door, he was shocked to find the little girl from the evening before, smiling up at him.

 

“Um – hi,” he said.

 

“Hello,” she replied cheerfully. “Grandma sent me over to your place to thank you for rescuing Snowball yesterday.”

 

“That’s very nice of her,” Harry said, thinking the old woman could have sent her granddaughter a little later than seven in morning. “I hope your kitten learned his lesson.”

 

“We’re thinking of enchanting the tree so he can’t climb it anymore,” the girl said.

 

Harry smiled. “A swell idea.”

 

“Well, I guess I better go,” she said, then dug into her pocket. “Here, Grandma also told me to give you this, she said it was probably a present for your friend and that you had lost it.”

 

She pulled out the black velvet case and handed it to him. Harry grinned at her.

 

“Thank you,” he said. “This is a very important present indeed. All the best to your grandmother – and Snowball.”

 

The little girl nodded and walked away, waving at him from the street.

 

Harry closed the door and went back up to his room, admiring the ring in its case. It was truly a beautiful jewel. He almost wanted to wake Ginny up to show it to her, but decided it could wait. A ring was just a ring, after all. What really mattered was what Ginny’s answer to his question. In the end, everything really had been perfect.

 

Still sleepy, Harry lay down next to her and watched her sleeping. Her red hair was fanned out over the pillow and she had wrapped the entire cover around her. With the distinct feeling that this was the first day of the rest of a wonderful life, he slipped the velvet case under her pillow and closed his eyes against the morning sun filtering through the window.