InsaneJournal

By Any Other Name - R/Hr - G
Title : By Any Other Name
Summary : It’s not that she wanted him to propose, but why hadn’t he?


Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she watched Ginny slowly revolving.

It wasn’t that she was jealous. Not exactly. Not envious. She didn’t want all the attention; she hated being stared at.

It wasn’t the wedding she wanted; she just wanted to know that it was out there somewhere. One day. In the future. That they had a future. That he thought about the future.

He used to.

When they had got together at school he had been more demonstrative. Practically romantic. Almost. Hadn’t he?

He’d even made the first move – something she’d never thought would happen. Admittedly he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye. He’d gazed into the fire in the Gryffindor common room and asked her to go to Hogsmead with him. On a date. And his red face could have been from the heat of the flames.

So that was almost their entire seventh year, seeing each other every day, and he’d not tired of being with her.

Then they’d left school and Harry and Ron had soon got sick of living at the Burrow and they’d shared a flat. She still saw him most days and stayed at the flat several nights a week.

Their relationship had always seemed to progress, to deepen; their sex life was always good – from pushing each other’s buttons to trigger a passionate argument it had been a short step to keep the passion and drop the argument part.

And he’d always told her how he felt about her.

In comparison Harry had always seemed rather clueless. Hadn’t Cho made the first move in fifth year? And Susan in seventh? Ginny had patiently waited until she’d left school and then pounced, so he’d never made the first move.

OK, he’d asked Ginny to move in with him, and when they’d found their own place Ron had asked her to move into his flat, but not just to keep up with Harry. And she’d never dropped a hint about it; they’d never discussed it; it had come from him.

So they’d dated for three years. They’d lived together for two years. And that was when he’d changed. When Harry asked Ginny to marry him.

It wasn’t some sort of contest. So what if they’d been together for two years more than Harry and Ginny? Did she see them married some day? Well, yes. This was it as far as she was concerned. This was already ‘til death us do part, and it would be nice to make it official one day, but her feelings for him didn’t depend on a white dress and a wedding cake.

So what was wrong with him? Did he think she was waiting for him to propose? Waiting to pounce? Did he think that Harry had upped the stakes and put pressure on him to get married too? Honestly, it wasn’t some sort of competition.

It was like having clueless, teaspoon Ron back again, and she was so out of practise arguing with him that she didn’t know where to start.

What could she say? “You don’t touch me any more – are you scared I’ll clamp a wedding ring on it if you lay a finger on me?”

She looked at him now. He usually looked uncomfortable in formal robes – the colour scheme Fleur had chosen last year hadn’t suited him at all, but whatever suited Ginny, suited Ron. Especially as the robes had been chosen to compliment her groom’s eyes.

So there he sat. Gorgeous flaming red hair; deep frown; serious blue eyes; freckles standing out against pale skin; teeth catching nervously at his bottom lip; tall, lanky body in beautifully fitted green silk robes.

God, she loved him, but she wasn’t sure she could feel the connection between them any more.

Finally looking up from the serviette he’d been shredding, he caught her eye. “Um,” he said “d’you want to dance?”

A slow, romantic song was playing and Ginny and Harry were gazing so fatuously at each other that she felt like slapping them. But Ron was making some sort of effort, and so should she. So she rose and put her hand in his and let him lead her onto the dance floor. Of course he may not be making an effort. He could just be using a different method to avoid talking to her. Harry had never been very tall, and he and Ginny gazed fatuously at the same height. As Ron took her in his arms she leant her head on his chest and tucked it under his chin. He was far too tall to talk to this close up. Hermione sighed. Ron rested his cheek on her hair and they moved slowly around the floor. He seemed to be relaxed against her; had he even realised that anything was wrong?

As the song ended, they found themselves next to the Happy couple, and Ron claimed a dance with the bride without a backward glance. Harry gallantly offered her his hand and she smiled as he took her into his arms.

“You look fantastic Harry,” she said, looking up into his happy face “everything went beautifully, Ginny must be so relieved.”

“You look a bit grim though,” he murmured, peering down at her “is everything ok with you and Ron? We’ve been so swept up in this wedding, we’ve been neglecting you, sorry.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed, “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like the moment you proposed to Ginny he panicked. I don’t expect him to propose too. Well, not yet. He looks at me like Seamus looks at Lavender and he knows me better than that. I’m not desperate to get married just because everyone else is. You’ve been organising this wedding for six months now, and he’s been avoiding me the whole time. We haven’t been out to dinner, he never makes the first move in bed any more, he… oh listen to me! You don’t need this on your wedding day!” She sniffed.

“I didn’t realise anything was wrong.” Harry frowned and thought about it. “He seemed fine at the robe fittings; he and the Twins teased me mercilessly at my stag night – but when George was getting gloomy about being alone, Ron went on and on about how lucky he was, and how much he loved you. Maybe now the wedding fever is over he’ll be able to tell you to your face again.”

“Oh I hope so, Harry. I never thought we’d grow apart – not after taking so long to get together.” She laughed nervously and leant her head against his shoulder. He hugged her tightly and they danced on.

****

The evening was finally over and Harry and Ginny were about to leave the reception. Hermione and Ron stood with the Twins and their dates, but although she could feel the heat from his body, he didn’t touch her.

Before Ginny stepped into the fireplace to Floo away with her new husband, she turned around and scanned the crowd with sparkling eyes. As she saw Hermione she grinned evilly and tossed her bouquet blatantly towards her. Hermione felt Ron tense beside her and, making not the slightest effort to catch the flowers, allowed Angelina to snatch them up and turn on Fred with glee.

Feeling everyone’s eyes upon her, Hermione moved briskly away, not meeting anyone’s gaze, and not aware of the look on Ron’s face.

****

Back at the flat, Hermione drifted around the bedroom, idly removing her robes and smoothing them before hanging them in her wardrobe.

Ron sat on their bed, his robes open, hands in his trouser pockets, looking rather alarmed.

“Hermione,” he finally said, and she turned to face him, now clad in her dressing gown “what happened?”

“Happened? I don’t understand Ron.”

“At the wedding. I mean, Ginny wasn’t exactly subtle, but you just stepped away from the bouquet – everyone noticed. Mum asked me what I’d done to make you angry with me.”

“Angry with you?” she came and sat on the bed next to him “Oh Ron, I’m not angry with you. You’ve seemed so freaked through this whole wedding thing, ever since Harry proposed; I thought you’d be angry with me if I caught it. I couldn’t face embarrassing you in front of your whole family. They’d all tease you about being next. And I know you don’t want that.”

“Don’t want what?” Ron looked confused.

“Don’t want to get married. Look, Ron, I really don’t expect you to, it’s ok.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t expect you to.”

“But you do want to?”

“Don’t do this Ron. Yes, I want to. Some day. When you’re ready. But not because everyone else is doing it.”

“Who says I’m not ready?” Ron asked indignantly.

He opened her mouth, found she had nothing to say, and closed it again.

“We’ve never even discussed it Hermione. When did I say I wasn’t ready?”

He looked most put out, and Hermione shook her head, baffled.

“Well, Ron,” she said, “it’s just because we’ve never discussed it, and then Harry got engaged and you just pulled away from me. You did. What could it be but the thought that I was waiting for you to do it too? All I want is to know we have a future – it doesn’t have to have a wedding in it.”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed me worrying Hermione.” Ron shook his head. “But it’s not because I thought you were expecting a proposal. Everything about our relationship has always been so easy.” Hermione snorted. “Ok, ever since we’ve been together everything has been so easy! And you are my future.

“It’s just that Harry getting engaged did make me think of our wedding and, oh this is just going to sound silly, now that I know how much I’ve worried you!”

“Our wedding? What about our wedding, Ron?” Hermione asked, now utterly baffled.

“Well, I was imagining it. I know just how you’d look, and you’d walk towards me, and you’d be the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And I was going to do it, I was going to propose. And then Harry was having such a hard time with the Twins, and I know what they’d tease me about if I was getting married, and my whole beautiful picture just shattered.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Ron? Apart from the fact that they always tease you anyway, what would be so bad about getting married? Would they tease you because you were marrying me?”

“Hermione, no!” Ron looked appalled, “well, they’d probably tease me about the ‘take thee Herm-own-ninny’ bit too, but I just froze. The thought of a year’s teasing while we organised a wedding and I froze.

“You’ve only known them since they got better ammunition on me and teased me about the prefect thing, or how crap I was at Quidditch. You don’t know what they were like when we were little.

“Just the thought of them saying ‘I Ronald Bilius’ every time they saw me – for a whole year – for the rest of my life!” Ron looked past her, into the future and shuddered.

Hermione looked over her shoulder and, seeing nothing there, shook her head. “I don’t understand, Ron. That is your name…”

“But it’s an awful name, Hermione.” Ron interrupted. “They’ve always teased me about my middle name, and I hate it.”

Hermione blinked.

“Do you mean to say,” she said, slowly “that you made me think you didn’t want to be with me any more. That you acted so strangely through all Harry’s wedding preparations. That we haven’t had sex for a month. All because the Twins would tease you about your middle name?”

“It’s Bilius!” he exclaimed.

Hermione looked at him. He looked embarrassed, yet defiant. She had known him for eleven years. Fought with him for almost as long. Loved him for almost as long. And this was the man she loved and he wasn’t going to change, and she wouldn’t change him.

He’d belch slugs for her.

He wanted to marry her.

But he hated his middle name.

“Oh Ron!” she finally sighed. “D’you know how much easier my life would have been without you and Harry in it?”

He looked hurt.

“No evil maniacs trying to kill me for one thing. But without you there’d be no love in my life. You are utterly infuriating, but I love you so much.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, will you marry me?”

“Hermione!” He tried scowling, but he couldn’t stop beaming at her. “Yes, of course I will – but promise me you won’t tell the Twins it was you who proposed – they’d never let me hear the end of it!”