I Love You Forever, Hermione Granger

I Love You Forever, Hermione Granger

Dear My Dark Sweet Lady,

How are you, my bold Gryffindor Beauty? I hope you are well.

It seems like forever since we parted for the summer. I wish our lips could stay together over these many miles, but I guess that would look rather silly, not to mention the stretching our faces would take. Perhaps Fred and George could invent extendable lips to go with the extendable ears.

As of this moment, the night is seeping into the still, quiet evening. The sky is fading gold; and the first of the stars are already alight. I am allowing my mind to drift along the deep-flowing current of peace. I think of you my love.

I laugh when the muggles say that that Helen of toy or moy, oh whatever, er...troy, that's it. They say that her face brought a few men of might, but they never saw you. Your resplendent face would bring the universe. You possess the beauty that wizards see only in their dreams. You are a woman of grace and fairest form.

Over the years at Hogwarts, discovering our love for each other, we have made our plans and dreamed our dreams. My love, my Hermione, you are an all-consuming flame of an ever-burning fire. I am so happy that you have let me step inside that light of consuming fire and let me share my love with you. Your love is a gentle light that glows in the night. I love you so very much.

The days have been long, but I don't mind the kicking around and relaxing. I am having a struggle with the homework you gave me to do. I realize you gave it to me to stay out of trouble this summer, but this muggle book is kind of thick and I am having an awful time trying to stay in the lines with these things, what did you call them, er...color sticks. Oh wait; color crayons. That's it. Now my darling your "gift" is very precious to me because it wears your love in every line, but luv, I am having a bloody awful time color...er...coloring in those lines.

Ducky-lover, I think trust is the most fragile of virtues; ever brittle, it shatters easily, but this color thing is turning my highly creative, immensly talented brain into a blob of nothingness. When we meet again, you will see nothing, but a blank stare coming from me. You will just have to kiss me, kiss me, and kiss me again to bring me out of that state of mind.

Now that I don't have to do the color thing anymore, because of your great compassion and understanding toward my dilemma, I want to tell you about some of my reflections during the endless hours here at home. My first reflection is on that cat of yours, Crookshanks. You know he doesn't have it so bad, and sometimes I wish I were he. No I am not getting the Polyjuice out. You are beautiful, but face it, when you turned into a cat, my heart almost stopped.

Now back to Crookshanks. That fleabag, I mean that wonderful creature is lucky, because he gets to sit on your lap almost everyday. What I wouldn't give to do that on a regular basis. He drinks, eats, and sleeps. What a way to live life. However, there is one huge draw back that puts all of this into a proper perspective. He has to "Lick His Butt." No Way! No Way! End of reflection one.

Now my second reflection is a bit more on the serious side. You know my love that I have struggled with my family's financial situation for years. Always having to wear hand-me-downs. That lot can be at times very difficult to deal with. Through it all, I think I am a moral person. Okay some of my dreams of you are border- line. I still think of myself as a moral person. Nevertheless, what would I do if I had Harry's invisibility cloak? I could go wherever I wanted, take whatever I wanted at anytime. What power I would have.

I know power is a great quest that always devours its host, but still sometimes I wish I could have a crack at it. Please forgive me when I think what would it be like to be You-Know-Who. I guess this is silly, especially when I know full well that You-Know-Who has been consumed by the power he sought to command. Still my love, it is a thought that flows across my mind on a regular basis, of course not as much as I think of you.

I can't wait until you come here for a few days before school starts. It is really grand of your mum and dad to let you come here at that time.

However sugar, there is a cloud on our horizon. Aunt Finny is coming to the house for a visit. You remember Aunt Finny; she is built like Winston Churchill. I call her ole Winnie behind her back. She is also the one who likes to pinch your cheeks; of course it's the cheeks on that cute little caboose of yours that I like to pinch. Ooh, I hope your mum and dad don't see that line

Aunt Finny wants you and I to take her to Mayfair to what is called a "Spaghetti Splash." There is an eating place there, where the waiter literally uses a muggle instrument called a shovel, to pile spaghetti on to your plate. It's kind of like the Great Hall at school, where we can eat all we want. Now you know I can devour my weight in chicken and drain a lake of butterbeer, but this spaghetti thing sounds positively disgusting.

I am starting to drift away in my thoughts, so soon I will have to close this letter. The house is rather quiet by Weasly standards. Ginny is curled up on a comfy chair reading a weird book called, I Dig a Pygmy, written by an English muggle named Charles Haughtry. Go figure.

This brings my thoughts to the time we were sitting together in the common room; I was reading a book on muggle world history. I asked you who Chris Columbus was. You were studying and were on a rather short fuse. You turned to me and said, that Chris Columbus was the mayor of Ohio, an American muggle city, I guess. I then asked you what he did to make him so great. Again, you gave me a stern look and said, "He died!" I guess you will be the brains in our family. It's not fair that you are so pretty and so smart. Usually it is one or the other.

Well my love, my final thought for now is this. There is a garden where our hearts converse, at ease beside clean water, dreaming a whole and perfect future for yourself, myself, our children and our friends.

I love you forever Hermione Granger!

Your Ron

P.S. I just had an inspiring thought. You can lead a horse to water, but a pencil must be lead. Ha Ha.