Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything. Give thanks to The Mighty J.K.R. for letting us use her characters.
Author's Note: Anything in **< those will be Harry's thoughts.
He was running as fast as he could.
It had finally happened. He knew it. He could feel it.
He wrenched a door open and raced up a flight of stairs. He stopped, and looked around like he’d never seen this place before. *Why couldn’t I have just apparated? Besides the fact that I would probably be murdered the second I showed up…*
He had gone way too far this time. How he thought he could get by with this, he would never be able to fathom.
Up, up, up, more flights of stairs. Of course they couldn’t be on the ground floor, or even the 1st or 2nd. That would make it too easy for him. They had to be on the top floor of a building with no elevator. Why did he have to pick this place? *Because you're a jerk, that’s why, and unfeeling selfish jerk…*
Why couldn’t he have gotten there in time?! *God, please don’t let me get there too late…please…*
He stopped. He blinked. Somehow he had gotten here, right outside the door, HER door, without even noticing.
He took a deep breath. He absolutely had to have a plan before he went in there. He needed to calm down!
*Breathe, man, breathe…*
Who was he trying to kid?! He couldn’t do this! There was no way in hell…
Resigning himself to the worst, he drew his wand for protection and slowly twisted the door handle. *Easy, now. Please don’t squeak… it’s more than my life is worth right now to let you squeak…*
He slid into the pitch-black room and closed the door behind him.
*Wait a second…pitch-black? It’s not supposed to be dark in here…*
The light flicked on. A woman stood in a separate doorway. She was dressed formally, in beautiful, dark navy dress robes, with her hair pulled back in an elegant bun. She was wearing diamond jewelry and a perfect scowl. In spite of that last bit, you would almost think she was going somewhere.
She glared at the man with obvious distaste and anger. Her arms were crossed, and she leaned against the doorframe, never taking her eyes off him. She spoke spitefully, “Sir?” The man whimpered. “Could you be bothered to tell me what date it is?” She glared at him.
Harry lowered his wand arm and cowered under the woman’s stare. “August 15th.” His voice trembled.
The woman spoke again. “Very good.” In fact, it seemed like this wasn’t very good at all, for despite the woman’s sudden light tone, there was a definite harshness in her features and demeanor. Harry mentally kicked himself for his brief hope. He knew she would never let him off that easy.
“I suppose you wouldn’t know the time, as well?” Her voice was venomous; Harry felt every ounce of pain the woman intended him to.
“After ten.” Harry sighed. He really had gone too far this time.
“Specifically, if you please.”
Harry felt like vomiting. He glanced at his watch hand and told her, “11:17.”
“That wouldn’t make you, oh, about four hours late, would it?” she spat. The woman held his gaze for a moment, and then sighed as she slowly walked to the table in the middle of the room. On the table were two plates, two sets of silverware, and every single one of Harry’s favorite foods. Inside a bucket of ice sat a tall, unopened champagne bottle. Two candles had burned down almost to the bottom at the table’s center.
As the woman slowly walked to and sat down at the table, she dropped any pretense of anger. Instead, she put her head in her hands and started to cry silently. She was hurt.
*You foul, loathsome man…*“Ginny, please-
“No, Harry!” She looked up and yelled, really angry this time. She gazed at him incredulously, but even though, Harry couldn’t be sure if she was looking at him or right through him. Her lip trembled, and tears came back to her eyes. As she looked back down at the table, she almost-whispered, “I know what with Auror work and everything, you can’t always be on time, but I thought at least you would make some kind of effort for our one year anniversary…” Her voice got softer and softer as she spoke.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed. This was the moment of truth. In all honestly, he had only been half an hour late from work. What had taken him the extra three and a half hours was driving to the Muggle shop where his father had bought his mother’s engagement ring, and now where Harry had gotten it cleaned and re-sized for Ginny.
Now, how am I supposed to go about doing this? Harry started to panic. She would never agree to this, with how mad she was… *Why on earth did you think you could get by with being late this evening? What kind of person misses their own anniversary? I mean, who the hell do you think you are?*
Harry took a deep breath and walked over to a sobbing Ginny, knelt down on the floor and wrapped his arms around her. Ginny tensed from the embrace, but slightly raised her head and stopped crying. The room was silent, save minor sniffles coming from Ginny's direction. After a moment, she turned to face him, ready as always to hear his explanation.
Harry lost his breath. Even through her tears, anger, and spiteful tone, Ginny Weasley still managed to be the beautiful and amazing woman he had finally realized that he wanted to spend forever with. As that thought dawned on him, he lost any doubts, bad feelings, or cold feet he had previously harboured and gained his strength.
With a free hand, Harry reached down into his robe pocket and felt the little red velvet box he had found the ring in, savouring this moment. Feelings this great were hard to come by, especially when you were Harry Potter.
Ginny’s eyes questioned him as he pulled the tiny box out of his robes and set it down on the table in front of her. As she slowly began to realize the significance of this box, the expression on her face grew to hold so many different emotions that Harry stopped trying to figure out what she was thinking, and hoped for the best.
Ginny allowed herself a small smile as more tears formed in her eyes. She looked up at Harry and gently pushed the little box back toward him.
Harry was in shock. Did she just say… no? Harry was horrified at the thought. She might have wanted to wait, but he didn’t think she would actually say no… He didn’t know what to do. He had never actually been in this situation before. He felt like sitting with his legs crossed on the floor and bawling, but somehow he thought that probably wasn’t the most mature of reactions…
Ginny must have caught the look on his face, because she laughed and turned in her chair to face the kneeling man. Looking down on her future husband, she said in a very matter-of-fact voice, “You didn’t think you could get by without actually asking, did you?”
Realization slowly showed on Harry’s face as he figured out that he wasn’t going to have to jump of off a cliff or a fast-moving train, or drown his sorrows is mass amounts of firewhiskey with Ron later that night. He said the first thing that came to his mind, which of course was, “Ginny, will you marry me?”
The smile on Ginny’s face told him the answer couldn’t be anything but yes.
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