It had started as a joke—one of those things Ron would say with his usual lopsided grin, eyes bright with affection. But over time, it had become something more, something that made your heart stutter every time he said it.

“If you were a queen, I’d happily kneel before you.”

The first time he said it, you’d laughed, thinking he was just being cheeky. But then he kept saying it. When you bested him at chess, when you walked into a room looking particularly stunning, when you stood up to Snape in class without hesitation. Every time, his voice held no sarcasm, only unwavering devotion.

Tonight, as the two of you sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, his arm lazily draped around your shoulders, he said it again. This time, though, he proved it.

Without hesitation, Ron slipped off the couch and onto one knee in front of you, grinning up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

“I mean it, you know,” he murmured, his hands resting lightly on your knees as he gazed at you. “If you were a queen, I wouldn’t just kneel—I’d swear my loyalty. No matter what.”

Your heart swelled as you stared down at him, warmth flooding through you. With a smile, you reached forward, brushing your fingers through his ginger hair.

“And if you were my knight, I’d always choose you to fight by my side,” you whispered.

Ron chuckled, tilting his head into your touch. “Well, lucky for me, you already have.”