Four Letters

Four Letters

What do you do when you first realize something? Do you tell someone? Do you tell that person? Or do you do nothing about it? Those were the exact thoughts going through a certain redhead's mind as his heart pounded hard against his chest. He had finally realized how much of an ignorant prick he was, and he could not believe how oblivious he had been. This realization had come earlier that day.

* * * *

It was a hot, sweaty, sticky, summer's day. It was one of those days where you could not go outside because of the heat and you could not stay inside because of the heat. You sweated so profusely that when your clothes stuck to you because of all the moisture, it seemed as if you had gained ten extra pounds.

On this sticky day, Ronald Weasley was doing the one thing he did best - nothing. He was lying shirtless on his bed watching multiple depictions of his favorite Quidditch team buzz around in the countless posters that decorated the walls. Smelling wonderful smells from the kitchen below; listening to his mother and soon to be sister-in-law, Fleur Delacour, argue over what colour the icing on the cake should be for the upcoming wedding. Listening to the birds chirp outside and trying his hardest too not to think about several things. This list of several things was actually a list of many things, some of which included the raging war, Dumbledore's death, the fact that Hogwarts might not re-open, and also that he had to help Harry find the Horcruxes even though he had no idea where to begin to look for them or even research the topic. So on this hot, sticky, summer's day, Ron was lying on his bed, attempting to not worry.

Suddenly he heard a loud "screech" come from his window. He jumped about ten feet in the air (the most energetic thing he had done all day) and with his heart beating in his chest, he looked to the window. There sat Hedwig, Harry's beautiful, snowy white owl, with a letter attached to her leg.

Ron slowly walked toward to window to take the letter, all thoughts of the worries he was trying to avoid running through his mind. 'Do we have to help Harry? Did something happen? Do we have to go? What's the bad news this time?' Quickly untying the letter from Hedwig, and there saw neat writing that was not Harry's small scribble but Hermione's curvy, elegant hand. A wave of relief overcame him as he began to read.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Is everything okay at your house? Everything is fine here. I borrowed Hedwig from Harry to write this letter because it is so hard to find an owl to send post nowadays. Have you been reading the paper lately? I have, and I can't believe all the deaths and ruckus since Dumbledore passed away! It's horrible! I believe fully that we are now at war.

Mum and Dad wanted to vacation in France again but because of all the happenings they decided not to. I can't say I am very happy about it but I understand that they would rather be safe then sorry. I liked France but my life is more important to me than museums and beaches.

Are you excited about Bill and Fleur's wedding? It's coming up pretty fast. Ginny's told me that she has stopped calling Fleur Phlegm behind her back because she respects her. After all, Fleur really does love Bill, even though he has those awful scars and a taste for expensive meat. (It's not like Fleur can't afford it.)

So what are your plans for the summer? I know Harry mentioned that he has to stay at his aunt and uncle's until his birthday and then he is going to go where we were two summers ago. Everyone is still there so I expect he will be brought in when he turns seventeen. I plan on helping him clean it up once he moves in. There are many protection spells that will have to be put in around the house, so I am going to be doing a lot of reading. Hopefully you can come too.

Anyway, this is where I will leave you. Stay safe and be careful. Hope to hear from you soon.

Love always,

Hermione.

As Ron re-read the letter, he noticed something he must have skipped his first time reading it. His pulse quickened again. How could he have missed it? Was it really as it seemed? Was he just making a big deal out of nothing? What do you do when you first notice something? Do you tell someone? Do you tell that person? Or do you do nothing about it?

'What should I do? I can't just ignore it, I have to go,' thought the redhead.

Running down the stairs, he could not imagine how four letters could disturb someone so much. Those four bloody letters. They made him realize how oblivious he had been and what a fool he was. Those four letters revealed to him his true feelings; feelings that involved those four letters. Four damned letters mixed up his emotions entirely. Everything he had felt before was completely erased, just because of those four damned letters.

He arrived on the landing and rushed by his mother and Fleur.

"Ron, what's the rush?" asked Molly.

"Yes, Ronald, vere are you going?" asked Fleur in her French accent.

"To do something I should have done a long time ago," he sputtered, sweating profusely.

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and rushed to the fireplace, knocking his forehead on the mantle above him. Muttering a quick spell so he could get back in, he threw the dust down, and muttering many other words he had never before dared say in front of his mother, yelled, "The Grangers'."

And off he went. He felt the familiar swirling about and saw all the odd colours. He saw many fireplaces all around him before finally he felt a "swoop" and landed onto a hardwood floor, in what looked like a study, on his back. Standing up, he took in his surroundings. He was, indeed, in a study. There were pictures and books all around. In front of him was a dark wooden desk with a leather chair and paper, pens and pencils scattered all around. Lamps decorated the walls and placed in the far-right corner, there was a grand piano. Ahead of him was a pair of glass double doors. He quickly sprinted towards them and yanked them open.

He found himself in the main hallway. It was white with a door on each side. One was cherry wood and the other, a glass door with curtains on it. Pictures decorated the walls; he could see Hermione as a baby, as a child, and as a teen, in each one with her parents. There were pictures of them on beaches, in front of the Eiffel Tower, and near the Trevy Fountain. He yanked open the door that seemed to lead outside and caught a glimpse of a large backyard with a pool and a rocking swing. She was not there, but Crookshanks rushed in and towards the door across from him.

He stood in front of the cherry wood door and looked at it. He could hear a soft humming coming from it. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The humming stopped and he heard someone softly walking toward it. The knob turned and the door slowly opened. Crookshanks darted in past Hermione, who stood with a dumbfounded look upon her face. She was wearing a white tank top and a pair of denim shorts. Her brown hair was softly cascading down her back.

Looking over her shoulder, Ron could see the inside of her bedroom. All painted in a rich red and gold, the Gryffindor colours. A bookcase made of cherry wood overflowed with books of all kinds. He could see the corner of a cherry wood desk and a matching bed. There was a glass door open to a balcony outside where, a table and chairs were set up.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" she asked.

At the sweet sound of her voice, Ron lost all the nerve he had had only minutes ago. He suddenly felt very nervous and clammy. His whole body was cold, even on such a hot day, and goose bumps had begun to form on his arms. Ron's heart beat through his chest and as he looked into her eyes, he felt deflated, like Hermione could see right through him.

"Ron, are you okay? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked for the second time.

Taking a deep breath, Ron nervously said, "Hermione, I just...I just realized something; something I should have realized a long time ago. I received your letter, and it jolted my memory of how much I actually like you. How much I...how much I...I...I love you," he finished and held his breath.

For the second time in five minutes, Hermione looked dumbfounded. An expression he had never seen before came across her face. She just stared at him in awe, looking like she was going to faint.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly and slowly, "you...you have no idea, no possible clue, of how long I have waited to hear you say that. I love you, too."

Ron nearly jumped three feet in the air in shock. He could not believe his ears. His whole world felt like it was spinning around him. A jolt of electricity surged through him. He moved closer to Hermione and placed his right hand on her face and cupped her chin with his left. He pulled her closer to him and pulled her face towards his. Lightly, he placed his lips over hers.

A feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before rushed through him. This feeling had not been there when he kissed Lavender, his mother, his grandmother, or his Aunt Beatrice. It was different and sweet, a spark of sorts, but one that did not hurt. It made him feel even better than he was. It was like a fire had been ignited in his chest when he kissed Hermione, making him feel as if he was the only man in the world.

'Is it possible to even feel this just from one kiss?' Ron asked himself.

As he and Hermione ended the kiss and pulled away, Hermione looked deep into his eyes and said, "Ron, what made you notice how much you loved me?"

Ron chuckled to himself as he said, "Hermione it came from four little letters. L-O-V-E."

Fin