A Different Kind of Magic

Ron closed the book with a nervous sigh.

“I hope she likes it,” he whispered to his empty flat, rising from his favourite armchair. It was the morning of Hermione’s birthday, and he had just put the finishing touches on her gift. Well, part of her gift, really. He still needed to fine tune the arrangements for the rest of it. He looked at the clock on the wall, which was telling him to hurry or he’d be late for his lunch date. Not a good move… especially on her birthday, he thought as he grabbed his favourite coat and headed out the door. Apparating to his usual spot near the Ministry, he waited for her to arrive.

It had been just over 3 years since the final battle, and Ron and Hermione had been nearly inseparable ever since. While each had their own flat, they were almost always together at one of them. Ron had only recently finished Auror training, as he had taken some time after the end of the war to help George and Lee with the shop. Hermione was finishing her third year at the Ministry, during which she had proven to be one of the top young researchers on the entire staff.

“Where are your robes? Don’t tell me you’re skipping work already?” Hermione said as she approached him. “Honestly! You just became a full Auror, Ron! You should be trying to make a good impression!”

“Well, hello to you too!” Ron chuckled, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I was given a direct order to take today off, so here I am, complying with my orders,” Of course, having Harry let it slip to our boss that I was planning a surprise for your birthday tonight probably had something to do with this particular order, he thought as a grin slowly spread across his face. Being one of the so-called “Heroes of Hogwarts” sometimes has its advantages.

“Oh,” responded Hermione, a brief look of confusion crossing her face. Shaking her head and smiling, she continued. “In that case, let me just tuck my robes in my bag and we can go to that little coffee shop around the corner you like so much.”

**********

As they walked back from lunch, Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and slowly turned her to face him. “What do you have planned for tonight?” he asked, knowing that she had nothing on her agenda. He had talked with both her parents and his, making sure that they kept her evening free.

“Nothing, really. My mum and dad are busy preparing for a dental convention next week. I thought I’d let you cook me dinner, and then we could just have a relaxing evening at your place.”

“I’ve got a better idea. After you’re done here, go home and get changed. I’m going to take you out for a special birthday dinner.”

“You don’t need to do that, it’s really not a big deal,” she replied.

“I know I don’t need to… I want to.”

Ron knew that was the right answer as a smile lit up her face. Hermione pushed herself up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning and heading back to work.

As he watched her head back to the Ministry, he gave a wave before she disappeared into the large crowd of witches and wizards returning from lunch. All I need to do now is finalise the arrangements and wrap her gift, he thought. As soon as she was out of sight, he walked to a safe Apparation point and disappeared with a pop.

**********

Hermione arrived home and immediately sunk down into her favourite chair. Because it was her birthday, her supervisor had let her leave a little early, but she was still tired. Her eyes drifted closed as she began pondering what Ron might have planned for this evening. She was startled when Crookshanks jumped into her lap and began to settle in. “I’m sorry, Crookshanks. I know you want some attention, but you can’t curl up on me right now,” she said, gently picking him up, standing, and setting him gently in the seat she had just vacated. “I need to get ready. Ron will be here any minute.” He looked up at her for a moment with what Hermione was sure was a distinctly sour expression, but then turned around and settled into the warm spot that she had created.

After a quick shower, Hermione felt amazingly refreshed. She wasn’t sure where Ron was taking her, so she selected a casual outfit that she thought would be acceptable almost anywhere he might choose. She figured it would be either The Leaky Cauldron or The Three Broomsticks. Aside from the Burrow, those seemed to be his favourite places to go for a bite to eat. As she was just finishing what she considered a losing battle with her hair, she heard a knock at the door. She glanced towards the enchanted picture frame on the side table, which confirmed that the visitor at the front door was indeed Ron. “Come on in, I’m almost ready” she called out, unlocking the door with a casual wave of her wand. Taking one last swipe at her hair, she wandered out to meet him.

“Let me just grab a robe and my wand and we can be on our way,” she said, moving towards the closet.

“No. No robes tonight. Grab a jumper instead,” Ron replied, “and… well, after everything we’ve been through, I wouldn’t even consider asking you to leave your wand, but you won’t really need it. We’re going into London… Muggle London.”

Hermione turned to him, a confused look on her face.

“I know how much your Muggle heritage means to you, so we’re going to celebrate this birthday with a completely non-magical evening. I’ve made reservations at a restaurant in town, and then maybe we’ll do a bit of sightseeing. Now let’s go, our ride is waiting.”

Hermione looked at him for a moment, and then broke into a big smile. This was one of the reasons she was so in love with him. Just when she thought she knew what to expect, he would surprise her with something completely different. The idea of a Muggle evening in London had to be intimidating to him, and he must have had help arranging it, but it was so generous and thoughtful. It was so him. This was going to be fun!

They stepped out of her building to find a black London taxicab waiting at the curb. “Er… I kinda had to ask dad for some help with the arrangements. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Ron, you didn’t need to do this. We could have just Apparated.”

“No magic… remember? This is going to be a completely magic-free evening” he insisted as he reached down to open the taxi door.

“Oh… right. Okay,” she replied, grinning as she slid onto the seat and moved over for Ron to climb in next to her.

“The Empire Grille, please” requested Ron, as the driver turned questioningly to the pair in the back.

**********

“That was an amazing meal! How did you find out about this place?” Hermione asked as they made their way to the exit of the small restaurant.

“Well, actually, it was your mum’s suggestion. Even my dad didn’t know enough to recommend a place to eat, so I stopped by after training a couple of weeks ago and asked your parents. They said that this was one of their favourite places when they were dating, and they still come here to celebrate special occasions.”

Hermione was shocked. She knew that Ron was still a bit uncomfortable around her parents, especially since they had officially begun dating. It amazed her that he had worked up the courage to visit them by himself. Will the wonders never cease? she mused to herself.

As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, she reached out and touched his arm. “We should have asked them to call us a taxi. I don’t know if we’ll be able to find one ourselves.”

“Umm… don’t worry. I’ve actually made other arrangements,” he replied mysteriously. Turning to the street, Ron put two fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. A moment later, a beautiful carriage appeared from around the corner of the building, drawn by a pair of spectacular Friesian horses.

“Your carriage awaits,” offered Ron with a dramatic bow and flourish of his arm. As soon as the carriage drew to a halt at the curb in front of them, a traditionally dressed coachman, complete with black top hat, hopped down and opened the door. Ron stepped aside and gestured for her to climb aboard. Hermione looked from the carriage to Ron and back again, a mixture of wonder and disbelief on her face. How did he come up with all this? she asked herself, as she stepped up into the lavishly appointed coach.

“Once around the park and then home to this address, please,” Ron requested, handing over a small piece of parchment on which he had written the address of his flat. The coachman glanced down at it, nodded, and with a tip of his hat he climbed back to his perch at the front of the carriage.

As they drew away from the curb, Hermione turned to Ron and smiled. “Where did you get the idea for this?”

“Ginny, actually. I think she read about it in one of her magazines. She wouldn’t stop pestering me until I agreed to set it up for your birthday. I hope you don’t mind…”

“No, not at all… this is amazing!” she said, snuggling deeper into his side and staring out at the passing scenery.

“Are you cold?” Ron asked, as he started to slip off his jacket.

“A little,” she replied, instinctively reaching for her wand to cast a Warming Charm.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her. “This is a non-magical evening, remember?” He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, pausing only to remove a small package wrapped in shiny gold paper from the inside pocket.

“What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the package on the seat next to him.

“That is for you. Happy Birthday, Hermione,” he replied, picking it up and handing it to her.

She carefully removed the wrapping paper to discover a small photo album. Glancing up at Ron, she opened the front cover to find a note written in his scratchy handwriting.

Hermione,

I really didn’t know what to get you, but I wanted it to be something special. In this album, you will find photos of some of ‘our’ special places. This is a journey of sorts, starting with the Hogwarts Express where we first met, and stopping off in places like the Room of Requirement, where we shared our first real kiss. I hope you like it.

Love,

Ron

Hermione flipped the page and immediately smiled. There in front of her, as expected, was a picture of the Hogwarts Express. As she stared at the photograph, though, she noticed something different.

“Ron, these photographs… are these Muggle photographs?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well give you wizard photos on a non-magical evening, now could I?” he replied, grinning at her obvious surprise.

But…how? Most of these places are part of the Wizarding world…” she started.

“Let’s just say I had some help, and I called in a few favours.”

Hermione just shook her head in wonder and looked back at the album.

“I’m sure you recognize this one. I decided to start the journey here, as it was where we first met,” he offered, sliding closer to look over her shoulder.

“In some ways, it seems like it was just yesterday, and in others it feels like a lifetime ago,” she murmured, running her hand lightly over the photo.

Flipping the page brought a smile to her face. “The Girls’ Toilets,” she said, looking over at him expectantly.

“Yeah, well, I earned more points in there than anywhere else at Hogwarts,” he replied laughingly.

Hermione turned and swatted his arm, pretending to be annoyed. Unfortunately, the huge grin on her face betrayed her. “Honestly!” she huffed, shaking her head.

Turning the page, the grin disappeared, and she simply stopped and stared. “McGonagall’s Chessboard,” she whispered, a tear threatening to drop from the corner of her eye. “That was where I thought I lost you for the first time. I really thought you died when you sacrificed yourself for us.”

Ron reached over and wiped her now damp cheek with his thumb. “But you didn’t. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood. There was still a long way to go on this journey.

Hermione paused, looking down at the picture with a slight frown. “Ron, where did you get this picture? Is the chessboard still there?”

“No, it’s not. When I started putting this together, I went and talked with McGonagall, and she was really helpful. I think asking about the chessboard probably helped. She really didn’t want to go to all the trouble of reproducing it, so she suggested I use the Room of Requirement to recreate it instead. While I was there, I took the opportunity to recreate a few other photos as well.”

He really put a lot of thought into this, she thought, nodding her head in understanding.

She flipped the page again, a look of confusion appearing on her face. “The Quidditch Pitch?”

“For some reason, Harry insisted I add this one. I told him you were never much of a Quidditch fan, but he said that this particular spot was probably important to you for other reasons and insisted I include it. You can always take it out if you want…”

Suddenly realization dawned on her. This wasn’t about Quidditch, or even flying. Leave it to Harry to remember. This was the spot where Ron had defended her from Malfoy for the first time. Malfoy had called her a Mudblood and Ron had tried to hex him, even though his wand was broken. As a result, he had belched slugs for hours. “No, this picture means just as much to me as all the others… I never want to forget this place either.” When Ron looked at her with a puzzled expression, she chuckled. “You don’t know why I like this picture, do you? I’ve got just one word for you… slugs.”

Ron’s face started to colour as he remembered the events of that day. “Oh… right...”

Hermione turned the page yet again to find herself staring at a row of beds. Upon closer inspection, she realized that they weren’t just any beds. They were the beds in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. “We spent more than our fair share of time in these beds, didn’t we?” she asked, turning to look at him knowingly.

“Yeah, I guess we did. But to tell you the truth, sometimes I think it was worse being the one sitting beside the bed…” he mumbled, turning to avoid her gaze.

“That’s true. Harry couldn’t seem to go a month without spending at least a day or two with Madam Pomfrey,” offered Hermione, still not grasping what he was trying to say.

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I was thinking about. I was actually thinking of 2nd year, when you were Petrified, and again during our 5th year, after our visit to the Ministry. Although 5th year I wasn’t exactly sitting next to your bed… I was in one of my own,” said Ron. “Being there and seeing you hurt but not being able to do anything was like torture.”

“Well, 5th and 6th years weren’t exactly a holiday for me either,” she replied, reaching out and taking his hand. “But that’s all behind us now. We got through it.”

Hermione squeezed his hand, and Ron lifted his gaze to look at her as he squeezed back. He nodded towards the album, and she turned her attention back to her gift. “What’s next?” she asked, flipping the page anxiously. There on the page was a picture of a particular storefront in Diagon Alley. “The Magical Menagerie? What… oh… Crookshanks!” she exclaimed, a smile forming yet again.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell him I said this, but I’ve rather grown to like the furball,” he confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione laughed as she turned the page. “It’ll be our secret!”

Seeing the next photo, Ron immediately spoke up. “I figured I should include this one, seeing as how it was where we found out that Crookshanks was right all along. I should have let him have Scabbers… I mean Wormtail… from the start.”

“Actually, I remember the Shrieking Shack as the place where you stood up to defend Harry and me, even though you had a broken leg. It was like the chess game in 1st year all over again,” she said quietly. Ron’s ears turned his trademarked shade of red and he said nothing.

As she flipped the page and looked at the next picture, she let out a little chuckle. “I know you like to eat Ron, but was a picture of the Great Hall really that important to you?” Hermione challenged, expecting to get a rise out of him.

Ron shot her an exasperated look before responding. “Actually, I took this picture with something else in mind. 4th year… Christmas… ring any bells?”

Of course she remembered. The Yule Ball. It had been an emotional roller coaster of an evening, and she had thought about it many times since, wondering what she could have done to make it work out differently.

“That was one of the worst nights of the year,” Ron began. “I think it was also when I really figured out how I felt about you. I wouldn’t admit it though. I guess I figured, you had an international Quidditch star, so why would you want anything to do with me?”

Hermione set the photo album on the seat and wrapped her arms around him. “You were wrong, you know. I never really had any interest in Victor. He was nice, but I was already falling for you. I just wish I could have convinced you of that sooner.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore. We worked it out…eventually,” Ron said, smiling and nodding towards the album. “There are more pictures in there… keep going.”

The next photograph showed the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. “Ron… how did you get a picture inside the Department of Mysteries? If the Ministry knew…”

“Relax. This isn’t the real Department of Mysteries. They wouldn’t let me take any pictures inside, decorated war hero or not,” he joked. “Room of Requirement, remember?”

“Oh… right. Well, regardless of how you got the picture, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night. We were all just lucky to survive. Well most of us, anyway,” she replied, pausing for a moment to think about Sirius.

The next photograph showed a simple looking tent. However, this was not just any tent. This was the tent that they had spent months living in before losing it to a band of Snatchers during their hunt for the Horcruxes. “I don’t think I ever want to go camping again,” Hermione announced, trying to suppress her laughter.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It took me weeks to get used to sleeping in a bed again.”

The next photographed location turned out to be the drawing room of a very stately mansion, complete with an ornate crystal chandelier. “Malfoy Manor,” she murmured, her face losing a bit of its colour.

“Yeah, well, it may not be a fond memory, but it’s definitely a powerful one,” Ron offered, once again wrapping his arms around her. “One I’ll never forget. I felt completely helpless. I really thought I was going to lose you before I got the chance to tell you how I felt. I don’t know what I would have done. I…” Ron trailed off as a tear escaped his eye. Looking down, he saw Hermione struggling with tears of her own. He lifted his hand and gently wiped her cheeks before continuing. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to make you cry,” he apologized. “Let’s keep going. We’ve still got several more to look at, and I know the next picture reminds me of a happier memory.”

Hermione sniffled as she nodded, slowly turning the page. She smiled broadly as she identified his intentions with this photograph. “The Room of Requirement,” she said, looking closely at the picture. He had obviously taken some time to set up this shot. “And if I’m not mistaken, those are two piles of basilisk fangs. Now what could have happened in here?” she pondered, trying to keep the grin from overtaking her face.

“Well, for one thing, this…” responded Ron, leaning over and bringing his lips to hers.

The next page held a photograph of the Hogwarts Battleground. A small stone marker had been inlaid into the floor where Voldemort had met his demise, and a plaque memorialising all who had died in the defence of the school had been mounted on the wall nearby. “Even now, it’s hard to believe that it’s over,” Ron commented, looking up at the starry September sky.

“Yes, but it is… it truly is. We fought, we survived, and most importantly, we won.”

She could tell she was getting closer to the end of the album. The next page held a photograph of one of her favourite places. “The Burrow,” she sighed, leaning back against him.

“I figured I should include the place where I finally got up the courage to officially ask you to be my girlfriend.”

“It’s also the place where we made up for all the time we lost during the hunt,” she added with a smile.

The next photograph showed a small house with a neatly kept flower garden. “The house in Australia where we finally found my parents. I was so worried I had done something wrong and they wouldn’t remember me when I lifted the charm.”

“You would never have done it if you hadn’t researched it thoroughly and known exactly what you were doing,” Ron replied.

Turning the page, she was greeted by another familiar building. “The Leaky Cauldron. Hmm… I take it you remember our first date?” she inquired, trying to stop the smirk that was threatening to take over her face.

“Yeah, well, I think everyone who was there remembers our first date. At least it didn’t take them too long to repair all the damage,” he replied, his ears turning their traditional shade of red. “I was just so nervous. I didn’t want to do or say anything wrong, and my brain just locked up.”

“Unfortunately, your feet were still working,” Hermione added wryly.

“I still swear that table with the oil lamps wasn’t there when we came in…”

Hermione couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “I know, and it was obvious that you were trying so hard. It was actually very sweet.”

The next page held a photograph of a place that Hermione knew better than almost anywhere. “My mum and dad’s garden?”

Ron reached over and took hold of her hands. “After we got back from Australia, we spent those two weeks at your parents’ house. Well, that was where it happened. The chilly night that you found me out there staring up at the stars. It’s where I first heard the words that I desperately wanted to hear from you, but never thought I would…”

“Would you like to hear them again?” she whispered, a slight shiver running through her body as she remembered the sheer intensity of her emotions that evening.

“Yes… always,” he replied.

“I love you, Ron” she said as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

“I love you too,” he responded. “I have for ages.”

Several minutes later, Hermione reluctantly pulled away and reached for the album that she had hastily set on the seat next to her. Feeling Ron’s whole body go tense, she glanced up to see a very strange look on his face. He looked almost scared, or maybe it was nervous. “Let’s see, it looks like there’s one more picture here,” she said turning to the last page in the album. “What is this? It looks like a carriage, just like the one we’re in now? What’s this about?” she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

“Umm… I guess I got a bit ahead of myself… You see, that carriage, err… actually this carriage…” he said in a shaky voice, indicating the carriage in which they were riding, “is very special to me, and I hope it will be special to you. This is the carriage where I am asking you to be my wife.” Ron slid off the seat and down onto one knee in front of her, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth, failing to stop a gasp of surprise. She hadn’t seen this coming, although she had hoped that eventually he would get up the courage to ask her. As she looked at him kneeling in front of her, the sound of the horses’ hooves clacking on the pavement, she realized he was trembling. “Oh… Yes! Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” she exclaimed, holding out her hand to let him slip the ring on her finger. “Oh, Ron, it’s beautiful!” she gushed, lifting her hand to admire the perfectly cut diamond.

“And so are you,” he replied, reaching out and pulling her into his lap.

Several minutes later, Hermione raised her head off of his chest and smiled. “Ron, you know what? You were wrong.”

“Oh? What was I wrong about this time?” he asked with a grin, knowing that nothing could ruin his good mood right now.

“This was a very magical evening after all…”

A/N: I’d like to thank allybee over at CM for her masterful beta work. She kept me honest and didn’t let me cut corners with this story, so for that…thank you! Also, as far as I know, the restaurant mentioned here does not actually exist anywhere in London. I borrowed the name from an upscale restaurant in Ottawa, Canada.