Chapter Two � Ron

Harry did not speak a word until they had reached the glittering school grounds. There was a thin blanket of white as far as the eye could see. If not for the footsteps imprinted in the powdery snow and the children trying to stuff the cold substance down other�s backs, the view would have been a romantic, peaceful sight. A few snowmen and a few mounds that were all that remained of other snowmen seemed to litter the terrain as well.

Harry moved to the rock beside the lake. The water had not frozen over yet, but it would be dreadfully cold never the less. He sat down on the snow while Hermione brushed it away before taking a seat.

�So, what do you want to tell me?�

Harry�s emerald eyes avoided her gaze and were fixed blankly on the first years instead. �My scar was hurting last night.�

Hermione�s eyes widened. �But how? Voldemort�s gone! You killed him! Why would it hurt?�

�I don�t know,� Harry replied.

�Did you have a dream or something of the sort when it happened?�

Harry shook his head. �I was just chatting to Seamus, about the Feint and all, and it started to hurt.�

Hermione�s coffee eyes were perplexed. �Maybe� maybe it�s nothing at all?� she offered. �Do you think you should tell Dumbledore?�

Harry shrugged. He stood up, leaving an impression in the snow.

�It might be an after shock or something of the sort. Like a volcano,� Hermione articulated.

Once more, Harry shrugged. �Harry�� Hermione started. �Say something.�

�I � I don�t know. Let�s just� wait it out. And see what happens. Okay?�

�Alright�� Hermione stood up as well and gave Harry a reassuring hug, trying to console him as well as herself. �I think it�ll turn out to be nothing at all. Don�t worry.�

*

It was late at night when Harry and Hermione left the common room to go to their separate dormitories. Hermione was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. She couldn�t sleep. Her thoughts were jumping around.

She had a new computer! Ron� Harry�s scar had hurt. Ron� What did it mean? Ron� All the research she could do with the internet! Ron� Chatting online with all her friends and family! Ron�

Clearly, something was tugging at her mind like a child trying to get his mother�s attention. She sighed. How was she supposed to get him out of her head? Thoughts of him floated into her brain whenever she wasn�t busy with something else. She didn�t like him. She just couldn�t put him out of her mind. Then she remembered�

Harry�s book! Or rather, the book Harry had given her. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and retrieved the book from the small pile of novels. Hermione opened the book and rested it on her pillow. Gathering her quill and wand, she settled into a comfortable writing position.

�Lumos� she whispered, setting her wand above the book so that the light was shining directly on it. The artificial light illuminated the blank pages.

Hermione put her quill in her mouth, thinking of how she should start this entry. She set the tip on the page, about to write, then propped it against her lip again. Should she start with how she felt right now? Or how she had made a complete fool of herself? Perhaps the best way would be to start from the beginning. After dipping her quill into the ink, she placed it on the page, ready to write.

�Ever since his jealous reaction in our fourth year, I�ve always wondered about Ronald Weasley. He is one of my best friends, so naturally, I was taken aback by the thought that he may have feelings for me -- �

Hermione was about to write, �How very foolish I was to think so� but decided against it.

�It haunted my mind at night. All I could think of before going to sleep was, �Is it true?� Ginny insisted it was. I had asked Harry about it and he had said that he thought Ron fancied me as well. I even took to asking Parvati and Lavender and they agreed with the others! With practically everyone saying Ron liked me, it was really hard for me to think otherwise.

�Then new thoughts started flooding my mind. What if he did? Would he do something about it? If he asked me out, would I say yes? Do I like him? This was all in our fifth year. With Harry being a real pain to be with, I was often with Ginny. When she wasn�t talking about Michael, she was talking about how wonderful it would be if Ron and I had gotten together, how she always wanted a sister. The things people kept saying got caught in my head. Once, I had overheard Lavender and Parvati thinking of who would make a good couple. �Definitely Ron and Hermione!� �They�re so cute together!� �They�re definitely gonna end up with each other!� they had said.

�I started looking at Ron, to see if there was some sort of affection in his eyes. I kept on trying to see how he reacted around me. He was awfully quiet when he was near me. He denied liking me with indignation. He criticized anyone who supposedly liked me. We constantly did our homework together (of course I usually ended up doing most of his assignments). When I watched Harry and him practice Quidditch together, he constantly messed up. �Was it because I was watching?� I would ask myself. I was convinced that he liked me.

�But the question I asked myself now was �Do I like him?� I analyzed how I was around him. I looked at whether or not I felt shy near him. I added the fact that I was constantly thinking about him to the list. By this time, I had come to the conclusion that I liked him. This was around the end of sixth year. I tried not to think about it. I was scared. If he knew that I liked him, what would he do? (You have to take into account that I thought he liked me at the time.) I did not want to think about it, so I forced myself not to.

�After the frightening summer of sixth year, the summer where the Dark Lord was defeated once and for all, I was convinced that I had gotten over him. However, Ginny and Harry refused to believe me. They thought I was in as much denial as Ron was. They took it upon themselves to get us together. They left us alone in would-be romantic spots throughout Hogwarts. I was too embarrassed that I had liked him that I behaved shyly and couldn�t really say anything. Ron didn�t say much either. Awkward silence after awkward silence, Ginny and Harry refused to quit their matchmaking. After a couple weeks� time, I had started to feel for Ron again. All the more, I couldn�t talk to him. When Harry and I were with him, the conversation would be mostly between either Harry and I or Harry and Ron. As seventh year courses were very specific, I only shared a few classes with him. We almost never talked unless he was getting homework help or it was something completely useless like �Pass the wormwood.�

�I started to doubt whether or not he liked me again. This time, I sent him a note, asking him for advice on a boy that I liked. It was so obvious who the boy was, so I never mentioned the name. I asked him to reply, telling me if he thought that the �boy� might like me back. A couple of weeks later, I received his reply. It was rather odd. Its basic message was that �the �boy� wants to tell you, but there�s things that are holding him back.� What things? What could possibly be holding him back? I never learned the answer to those questions, but I took the note as a sign that he fancied me. I had heard from Ginny that a lot of people had sent him notes and he almost never replied to them! I felt so special. The foolish girly feeling of being liked swept over me.

�Finally, I got sick of the lack of communication between us. Thinking that he returned my affections, I started to hug him. He usually stood still as a board or tried to get away, as if I had some infectious disease. However, I didn�t see it that way at the time, so I continued. Knowing that it was slightly annoying to him,� ��Slightly!� Hah!� Hermione let out a bitter laugh before continuing. �I decided to stop my foolish, immature, and oh-so-obvious hug crusade. I avoided him as much as was possible. However, I longed to watch him. I stared at him intently during Quidditch matches and practices. I was happy with viewing from afar. I didn�t really want much more. No, I lie. I wanted more -- but not much more. All I wanted were a few hugs. But I knew how much it irritated him. What was I to do?

�Eventually, Ginny got fed up with my constant complaining for a hug and dared me to hug him. So I went up to him, and calmly told him that I had been dared to hug him. Then Ginny suddenly said she hadn�t dared me! I felt so betrayed. (Later, I realized that she was putting up a play, but I hadn�t seen it at the time.) He started to back away immediately. I would have been hurt if I�d had the time. But instead, Seamus showed up and looked me straight in the eye. �Ya like �im don�t you?� there was so much suspicion in his eyes. I gave a �No!� but it may have been voiced too quickly. My heart was pounding in my throat. Oh how embarrassed I was! The next thing I heard sent my temper through the roof. Ron had just muttered under his breath �Yeah, that�s it.� As if he knew! Oh how could he know? Was I really that obvious? Oh right, it was the letter that probably informed him of my feelings. I wanted to hit Ron, make him feel pain! When he turned around, I gave him a quick hug. His shoulder dug into my neck. I probably choked him considering how tall he was and the rough manner in which I had slipped my arms around his neck. Oh well, he deserved it. I was filled with such hatred for him that I couldn�t stand being in the same place as him. But all too quickly, my detest for him faded and I was swooning over him once more.

�I decided I wanted to hear the words straight from his mouth. At one of our Hogsmead trips, I caught Ron alone and asked him to tell me whether or not he liked me. He looked at me uncertainly. He muttered something too quietly for me to hear. �What?� I asked. �I�ll write you a note ok?� I agreed and departed to one of the shops. Every morning, I waited for Pigwidgeon -- or any owl for that matter. I didn�t receive anything. I was lost in some weird trance. I still cared for him, but I was lost and doubtful.

�Then, this part of me kicked in. It would yell at me in the middle of the dark nights, it would scream and wail whenever I started to think of Ron. �WHY HIM?� it would question. �HE�S NOT EVEN GOOD LOOKING! HE�S NOT SMART AT ALL! HE�S FORGOTTEN HOW TO TALK! AND OH HOW HE SUCKS AT QUIDDITCH!� On and on it would go. I felt so ashamed afterwards. How shallow I felt! How could I think those things? And about one of my best friends too! I felt dirty and horrible. I was a horrible person for even thinking them. As I write the words now, my stomach still twinges with the guilt. No matter how much I resented myself for thinking that, every night, when I was just about to drift into sleep, or every morning, right after getting out of bed, the thoughts would come to me. What was worse was that they rang through my head so loud, I wouldn�t have been surprised if Ron himself heard them, all the way over in the boys� dorms. It tormented me to think of these things. Perhaps it was my mind�s way of making me put him in the past. After all, if within two years, he could not see that I liked him, if he wouldn�t do anything, maybe he didn�t like me. Maybe he wasn�t going to do anything. If it was a trick my mind was using against me, it had worked.

�I was over Ron. Totally and completely over him. It was rather odd though. One morning, I woke up, thankful that the voice in my head had been silenced, and I just felt so clear, so pure. I knew right then and there that it was over. I would not like him any more. I would not feel anything for him ever again. We were friends now, and that was all we�d ever be.

�If only I�d left it at that.�  

Hermione, awake as she had been, felt so overcome by sleep. No, she had to continue writing. She needed to get it all out. But, it was so hard to fight her drowsiness. How great, how relaxing, sleep would be right now; to wash away her current emotions and neutralize her feelings down to a stately nothingness. She could not fight it any longer and gave into sleep, her eyelids slowly drooping lower and lower and finally, shut. Her head was leaning on one arm, while the other arm was outstretched, her quill falling out of her limp hand.