The Letter

She had to tell Harry. She couldn't keep it from Harry for much longer. She had to do something. So she took out a roll of parchment, and began to compose a letter. Now, all she had to think about was the right words to say.

Dear Harry,

I once looked up the word friend in the dictionary. Please don't groan and give me that do-you-really-have-nothing-better-to-do-with-your-time-than-to-read-and-reread-nostop? look. Just hear, or rather, read me out. The first out of five definitions I saw said, one attached to another by affection or esteem. By definition, you, Ron and I are all friends. We are attached by affection for each other. We care about each other, and help each other out in times of need. And for this, I am more than grateful for you and Ron.

But in all the definitions in the dictionary, I think that it missed out on something I personally think is key to friendship: that friends are loyal and honest with one another. This makes me feel really guilty about last year. Ron and I haven't been completely honest with you, and it's killing the both of us. So I'm writing you this letter to tell you the truth about something...er...rather important.

You see, Ron and I are...

Ack. I can't write it. I know what you're thinking now. Hermione Granger? The Girl Not Without a Thing to Say has trouble saying something? It's as hard for me to believe too, if you can believe it yourself. But I really need to tell you this. Ron really needs to tell you this. And if I don't say anything now, I never will, and this could cause incomparable damage in the wonderful friendship that the three of us have. So I better just write it out.

Ron and I...are involved.

Romantically.

I know this must come as a shock to you. I mean, Ron and I bicker non-stop. We've had numerous amounts of fights that could've ended our friendship. And we've called each other numerous amounts of names. Know-it-all. Insensitive prat. Tattletale. Lazy git. And the fact that it seems like we always fight. But in spite of all this, I like him. A lot. And he likes me, too. I'm happy being with him.

You're probably wondering how in the world Ron and I could've possibly realized our feelings for each other. Well, truth be told, it began during the summer before our fifth year, right before the Advance Guard came to get you at Grimmauld Place...

(flashback)

Hermione Granger sat at the desk in the room she shared with Ginny at 12 Grimmauld Place, all alone. Hedwig was right next to her, peering at the parchment she was tapping the top of her quill on. She was about to send off a birthday package to her best friend Harry Potter (a huge box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, she was short on money) and was thinking about what to say to him. Of course, Harry's fifteenth birthday was not bound to be his most enjoyable one. After all, Hermione has guessed that he'd be incredibly upset with Voldemort's resurrection and Cedric Diggory's death. So she sat pondering what to write, not knowing that someone else had entered her open door.

"Hey."

She looked up and saw her other best friend, Ron Weasley leaning in the frame of the door, smiling at her. For some reason, now whenever she saw him, she could feel her temperature rise. She couldn't explain to herself why, though. "Hey."

"What 'cha doing?"

"Just writing something to Harry before I send his birthday gift to him," Hermione replied. She ran her fingers through her tangled brown mane in frustration. She couldn't concentrate before what to say, and with Ron there her concentration definitely was lacking. Before she could think of something better to say, she wrote a quick note that read as follows:

Hey Harry,

Happy fifteenth birthday! There's so much I have to tell you, but I can't say anything now. See you soon!

Love,

Hermione

She looked at what she wrote, and thought she sounded more like an insensitive bitch than a good friend. She folded the letter up, resolving to burn it and write something more meaningful. But before she could put it away, Hedwig took the letter out of her hand, picked up Harry's brown birthday package by the string, and flew out of the open window to Hermione's left.

Hermione leaned back into her chair, defeated. Ron picked up on her unhappiness. "What's wrong?"

She sighed. "I wanted to write something meaningful to Harry, and wrote something stupid."

"Let me guess, you wrote something like happy birthday Harry, sorry can't say much more, your friend Hermione?"

She looked at him, amazed that he was so accurate. "Something like that."

Ron came into the room and closed the door. He then walked over to her desk and sat on top of it, right next to her. "I wrote something similar when I sent Harry my gift. I sounded like a prat. What did you get him?"

"Candy. You?"

"Candy."

They both looked at each other and started laughing. It was amazing, Hermione thought, that even though they were complete opposites, they got Harry the exact same type of gift and wrote the same thing to him. Once they had both calmed down, Hermione looked up and took a good look into Ron's eyes. She had never noticed exactly how blue his eyes were. They weren't a light blue like she thought they were before, but rather a deep blue, like the depths of the ocean, only with more color. It was, for a lack of a better word, intoxicating. She quickly turned her head, embarrassed. Ron noticed this sudden movement. "Are you okay?"

She sighed and buried her head in her hands. "Do you think we're doing the right thing, not telling Harry much about the Order and all?"

"Well, Mum told us that Dumbledore didn't want us to say too much to Harry, so I guess we are." Ron began swinging his legs back and forth a bit.

Hermione pushed her chair back. "Well, I'm sick and tired of all this bull shit," she said softly. She got up from her chair and turned around and started walking to her bed.

Ron was confused. Hermione rarely cursed, and often told him off for his own foul language. "What do you mean?"

She turned around, slightly red in the face. "I'm tired of having to tell Harry so little. All of yours and my letters are the same: hey-Harry-what's-up-with-you-can't-tell-you-what's-going-on-here-hope-to hear-from-you-soon--love-your-friends-Ron-and-Hermione." Her voice grew louder with every word. She was beginning to loose her cool, something that she hadn't done since she was thirteen and beginning to crack from the heavy workload of her classes. "Harry has the right to know what's going on here! He's not a child! None of us are! He doesn't deserve to be left out in the dark!"

Ron slid off the desk, shocked by Hermione's outburst. "Dumbledore told us not to say anything, Hermione. You would break an order that Dumbledore gave us?"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, RON! HARRY DESERVES TO KNOW!" Hermione stopped to catch her breath. The last time she had yelled at anyone like this was when she had the huge fight with Ron after the Yule Ball only seven months before. It still brought tears to her eyes to even think about it. She lifted her hand to her forehead and held her head. She didn't want to Ron to see her teary-eyed. She didn't like having anyone see her crying, but especially not Ron.

As much as Ron was surprised at Hermione's outburst, a sinister idea began to clock in his mind. "Why do you not want to follow orders, Miss Rule-Obey-er?" His voice began to grow dangerously soft. "Why do you care about what Harry knows? Is Rita Skeeter right about what she wrote?"

Hermione came to a resolve and lifted her head up. "What are you talking about?"

Ron couldn't believe that Hermione hadn't figured it out. His voice reflected his frustration better than his words did. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Do. You. Like. Harry?"

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. How could Ron think of something so stupid?

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! NO! I DON'T LIKE HARRY! I NEVER LIKED HARRY AND I NEVER WILL LIKE HARRY!"

Ron began yelling too. "DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU DON'T LIKE HARRY! YOU KISSED HIM ON THE PLATFORM BEFORE HE LEFT!"

"THAT WAS A FRIENDLY KISS! IT MEANT NOTHING!" Hermione stopped to catch her breath again. "Besides," she said softly, looking down at her feet. "I like someone else."

Ron threw up his arms in frustration. "I knew it. You like Krum."

That was it. Hermione had had it. "ARE YOU DEAF, DUMB AND BLIND?! I DON'T LIKE KRUM, I LIKE YOU!!!"

Ron stumbled back into the desk. "What?"

"I LIKE YOU! I LIKED YOU SINCE THE THIRD YEAR! I WANTED YOU TO ASK ME TO THAT DAMN YULE BALL! BUT YOU WERE SOOO WRAPPED UP IN THAT FRENCH VEELA BITCH THAT YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TO THINK ABOUT ME! I ONLY WENT WITH KRUM BECAUSE HE WAS THE FIRST GUY WHO ASKED ME BECAUSE HE LIKED ME FOR ME! AND THEN YOU ASKED ME, BUT WANTED TO USE ME AS A LAST RESORT! I DON'T GO WITH PEOPLE WHO USE ME, RON! YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW MANY NIGHTS I CRIED OVER THAT FIGHT AFTER THE YULE BALL? YOU WANNA KNOW? I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COUNT THEM! I STILL CRY OVER IT! I CRY BECAUSE I WANT YOU AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE ME!" Hermione tried to catch her breath, but ended up falling to the floor on her knees and buried her face into hands to keep Ron from seeing that she was sobbing uncontrollably.

Ron ran his fingers through his hair in shock. "Hermione..." He ran over to Hermione's side and crouched down beside her. "Hermione..." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tightly. "Hermione, why would you think that?"

She buried her head into his Weasley sweater-ed chest and continued sobbing.

"'Mione...please tell me," Ron whispered, holding onto her as if he didn't want to let go.

Through her sobs, Hermione tried to communicate her reasons. "Because...you call me...a know-it-all...and...I'm ugly...and...you only...like...pretty girls."

Ron lifted up Hermione's head. "Those are reasons why I like you."

"What?"

"You know everything from Herbology to history and never hesitate to give me or Harry help when we ask. You pester me about how lazy I am with my work and that if I don't shape up, I'll pay for it at the end-of-term exams. You're always prepared for everything. And you're not ugly." He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to find the right words to put his thoughts. "...you're pretty."

Hermione laughed through her sobs. "No I'm not."

Ron nodded. "You are," he admitted. "You can fix your hair any way you want, but no matter how much you complain about it, it adds to your...er..."

"Charm?" Hermione smiled. Tears were still running down her eyes, but she wasn't sobbing anymore.

"Yeah, charm." He smiled. "And your eyes, they're like milk chocolate."

Hermione giggled in a very un-Hermione way. "I like your eyes too."

Ron continued to hold her. They sat on the floor in each other's arms in silence for ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Hermione. She didn't want this moment to ever end. But eventually, Ron had to let go of her, but he continued sitting by her. "Just one question, though."

"Yeah." Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Did you ever like Krum?"

Hermione let out a small laugh. "Not really."

"What do you mean, not really?"

"Well, he was nice, but I liked him more as a friend than a boyfriend."

This was startling to Ron. "So you never..."

Hermione shook her head. "No, we were never going out. He wanted to, though. He pulled me over before he left to ask if I still wanted to go to Bulgaria. I told him I was sorry, but no. He's agreed to be just friends. He and I now just write each other."

Ron beamed. "Is this a wrong time to kiss you?"

Hermione thought about it. "Er...yeah. It is."

The both of them laughed. Ron pulled her in for another hug and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "What do we do now?"

"I dunno. Tell Harry, I guess."

"Okay," Ron said. "We tell Harry when he comes to visit."

(end of flashback)

But when you came, you were so upset about being expelled and not being told about the Order that we couldn't tell you. And when you said that while you were stuck at your miserable Aunt and Uncle's while Ron and I were having a fine time without you, it particularly stung. It was not the right time to tell you, since you were so upset with us already, God knows how you would've reacted to the fact that we liked each other.

I was really surprised when Ron became prefect. I had always thought it would be Dean or you. But in case you're wondering, Ron and I did spend some time alone in the prefects' section of the train. And no, the prefect meetings were not excuses to have make-out sessions. They were actually prefect meetings. We actually had to sit in the same room as Malfoy and Pansy and listen to how many people they took points off for the stupidest reasons. Ugh.

Ron and I have spent a lot of time together alone. Why? Because you were too busy moping over no one believing you about You-Know-Who's return and Cedric's death. You didn't want company so that you could wallow in your self-pity. Rather pathetic, if you ask me. You know you can always talk to Ron and I about whatever's bothering you.

Ron and I would often talk about you. We were worried, Harry. You pushed everyone away, what were we supposed to do? And yes, Harry, Ron and I have kissed. But it hasn't gone any further. Ron says he doesn't want to screw up his first time. Kind of cute, at least, you'd find it funny. I guess this explains much of our actions towards each other this year. Ron's not the most insensitive wart I've ever had to misfortune to meet, that would be Malfoy. I think we all agree that boy has no ability to have human emotions.

I miss talking to you, Harry. So does Ron, maybe even more than I do. I know you've had a lot to be upset over: the dementor attack before the Advance Guard came for you, your near-expulsion from school, the attack on Mr. Weasley, the whole Department of Mysteries thing, Sirius's death...It's been a lot for you. But you know that Ron and I will always have your back. No matter what. We really wanted to tell you sooner, but we were scared. Ron was worried that you'd angry and that you'd think he lost his mind over a girl. Me. But I really think you should know. Just remember what I said before: Ron and I will always be there for you.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me (not to mention Ron) for not telling you sooner,

Hermione

Hermione folded up her letter and silently thanked God there was no owls around. She looked at it carefully, then put it into her desk drawer muttering, "When the time is right..."