Author's Note - PLEASE READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: Hi everybody! Serah Rose here. This is the first Harry Potter fanfic I've uploaded to the site; up till now I've preferred to write Inuyasha fics, mostly, with one High School Musical one thrown in there as well. I wrote this fic in the summer of 2003, which was obviously a very long time ago. I was rummaging through my binder of old stories and poetry and came across this little piece. I decided to improve it so that it would be fit to upload to (because obviously my writing has improved somewhat in the past five years...ha ha). In this fic, it's implied that Harry and the gang graduated Hogwarts normally instead of leaving to go after the last few Horcruxes, and the entire ending of the series has been changed, but obviously, if it was the same ending, it wouldn't truly be my story, would it? Also, this was written long before the series ended, so I can't technically be blamed for how I decided to write this. Ha ha. Just completely disregard The Deathly Hallows (book seven), if you can. Thanks everyone! So anyway, enough of my rambling. Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I owe J.K. Rowling a great debt for bringing Harry Potter to life. If only I could legally say that this wonderful series was of my own invention. Ha ha. Sadly, however, it is not. I own no rights to any of the characters or anything else in this story except the plot.

Chapter 1 - The Letters

"Are you completely mad? You haven't even seen Hermione since we left Hogwarts seven years ago! You're not actually thinking about asking her to marry you, are you?" Harry Potter asked his best friend of fourteen years, Ron Weasley. The two men were sitting in the den of their shared London flat, having a few drinks before they turned in for the night. Ron had just told his friend of his intentions to write to Hermione Granger, the woman for whom he had nursed affections for the nearly fourteen years it had been since he had met her during their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had also told Harry that he planned to propose to Hermione if she would agree to meet up with him. It was an idea he'd had for quite some time now.

At first, Ron did not respond to Harry's outburst, but simply stared at the floor and sipped his scotch as his face began to turn the same colour as his hair: flaming red. Well, maybe I am mad, Ron thought to himself, but I'm going to propose to Hermione, no matter what it takes or how stupid an idea Harry thinks it is. Ron did have to admit that Harry had a point; neither of them had seen Hermione in seven years. They had all kept in contact as best they could, but life had gotten in the way and now their relationship with her was reduced to a few short letters each year. Not having a phone, Harry and Ron had not been able to keep in touch with Hermione in that way since they had first moved to the flat several years before. There were, of course, other methods that they could have used to visit each other, but it seemed that neither of them had ever had sufficient time to even manage that much. Still, Ron had not been able to get Hermione out of his mind lately. She was all he'd been thinking about. He had even been getting stern reprimands from his boss at work because he'd been letting his mind wander on the job. For fourteen years now, Ron had nursed feelings for Hermione that were, as far as he knew, unrequited, and it seemed that they had recently come to a head. It had gotten to the point that if Ron Weasley was not thinking about Hermione Granger, he probably wasn't conscious.

There was nothing you could do about romantic feelings. They were not simply things that you could discard or ignore. This was why Ron knew that he had to get in contact with Hermione, and that he wanted to propose to her.

"Harry, I think I'm just going to go to bed," Ron told Harry, standing up and pushing his right hand through his hair, making it look more unkempt than usual, "see you in the morning, mate."

With that, Ron jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stalked out of the room without another word.

The next morning, Ron awoke at 4:00. He had formulated a plan the night before to write a letter to Hermione and send it with Hedwig, Harry's owl, before he went to work. Ron, who had been working at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley for several years, had a very unfortunate work schedule. He always started at 6:00 am, while Harry was rarely known to get out of bed until at least 7:00. If Ron sent Hedwig off with his letter before Harry awoke, Harry would assume that she had gone off hunting in the middle of the night. He need never know that Ron had already sent it, and would assume that he had abandoned the notion of trying to write to Hermione. Ron knew that Harry would try to talk him out of contacting her, and that this was the one way to ensure he wouldn't be bothered.

As quietly as possible (so as not to wake Harry, who was still fast asleep in the next room), Ron rummaged around in his chest of drawers until he found some parchment, a quill and an inkwell. When he had found the items he needed, he sat down at his desk, dipped his quill into the ink, then moved his hand so that the tip of the quill rested just above the parchment. For the longest time, he sat in silence, staring at the wall behind his desk but not actually seeing it. Deciding what to write to the girl he loved (whom he had not seen in seven years) proved to be much more difficult than he had anticipated.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ron finally managed to scratch out a short letter. Once he had finished, he sat back in his desk chair and re-read his words.

Friday, 21st March

Dear Hermione,

Hello! How have you been? Everything is fine here. I'm still working at Quality Quidditch Supplies; pay is still terrible and my boss is still a holy terror, but at least it keeps me occupied...

(Ron had considered omitting this part of the letter, realizing that he sounded completely dull and somewhat petty - who cared what his pay and boss were like, after all?)

Listen, the reason I'm writing this is because I wanted to ask you if you'd like to come for a visit sometime next week. If you're not busy, of course, which you might be. I can completely understand if you are. But if you're not...well, I'd love to see you.

Send your answer back with Hedwig A.S.A.P.

Take care,

Ron

Once Ron had finished reading his very short letter, he added in directions to the flat, in case Hermione should decide to take him up on his offer and come to visit. She had never been to the flat before, of course, and would have no idea where to go if she wasn't told.

Looking up at the clock on the wall, Ron realized that he had been working on that short excuse for a letter for over an hour, and that he would most certainly be late for work if he didn't hurry.

Ron dashed out into the hall, and turned right to go into Harry's bedroom. Normally, Harry kept his door unlocked at night, so Ron pushed on the wood of the door, expecting it to swing open. When it didn't, the red-haired Weasley began to panic. Under normal circumstances he would have simply used his wand and performed Alohomora, but he had been unable to locate his wand in several days (much to his displeasure).

Why would he choose last night of all nights to lock this? Ron wondered miserably as he tried the handle. No luck. If I don't get Hedwig soon, I'll be late for work. Can't really afford any more screw-ups, either, what with already being on probation for not paying attention to anything I'm doing while I'm on duty.

There was nothing for it. He was going to have to wake Harry up and simply deal with his reaction when it came.

Not bothering to be courteous, Ron pounded on Harry's door with all his strength, stopping only when he heard a muffled grunt coming from inside the room. At this, Ron backed away slightly and waited for Harry to come to the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened slowly and a half-asleep, tousle-haired Harry Potter poked his head out into the hallway. His eyes were halfway gummed together with sleep and he looked a little disoriented.

"Whassamatter?" Harry asked his friend in a thick voice.

Ron inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and spoke. "I need to borrow Hedwig," he said simply.

"What for?" Harry asked. Then, suddenly, as though a sudden burst of understanding had hit him like a cast iron frying pan over the head, his eyes flew open. "You're not still on about sending a letter to Hermione, are you?" he asked skeptically.

Ron sighed. He had expected this, and it was for exactly this reason that he had hoped to take Hedwig in silence before Harry woke up.

"You know, mate," Harry continued, stepping out into the hall and closing his door once again so he could lean against it, "it's been seven years. Don't you think it's possible that she might already have a boyfriend by now, or a fiancé, or even a husband, come to that?"

Ron was stung by Harry's words. "Don't you think she would have told me?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, mate. Two or three letters a year aren't really enough to cover that kind of thing, are they?"

Outraged, Ron's eyes flashed and narrowed slightly. "Listen, Harry, I haven't got time for this. I'll be late for work, and I can't see why you've got such a problem with me writing to Hermione! Can I borrow Hedwig or not?"

Harry looked startled. It was a very rare occasion when he saw his best friend look quite this angry. "Ron," he began, trying to speak as slowly and gently as he could, so as not to arouse Ron's anger any further, "I just don't want to see you get hurt, all right?"

Ron relaxed slightly but said nothing.

"I'm not going to stop you," Harry began, "you can borrow Hedwig, mate, I don't mind," Harry told his friend, before disappearing into his bedroom to fetch her from her cage. When he had gotten her, he brought her out to the hallway, where she hopped onto Ron's shoulder, as if she knew exactly what was going on.

Without another word, Ron returned to his bedroom. He sealed the letter in an envelope and tied it quickly to Hedwig's leg before opening his window and sending the beautiful snowy owl off into the inky black sky. She could have no way of knowing that, in essence, she was carrying Ron's entire future with her as she flew toward Hermione.

On Sunday morning, Ron woke up to a tapping sound coming from outside his bedroom window. With much grunting and groaning (Sunday was Ron's only day off that week and he'd been looking forward to a much-needed opportunity to stay in bed as late as he wanted to), he fought his way through several layers of sleep, opened his eyes, and stared at the window above his bed.

It was when that he saw Harry's owl, Hedwig, hovering on the other side of the glass, a letter clasped in her beak.

Ron sat bolt upright and threw open the window for the owl. She flew majestically into his bedroom, dropped the letter onto Ron's bedspread while still in flight and then took off out of the window again - she obviously was in the mood to do some hunting.

Once Hedwig had departed, Ron snatched the letter up from his bed and ripped the envelope with such speed that anyone watching would probably have thought it hadn't even happened. Heart pounding out of his chest, he began to silently read the neatly written words that were written on the parchment.

Dear Ron,

Thanks so much for your letter. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to hear from you! It's been much too long.

My life has been fairly eventful lately, I must admit, but the things that have been happening aren't really fit to be explained in a letter, which brings me to my next point: I would absolutely love to come for a visit! We have so much catching up to do!

How would Thursday, the 27th, be for you? If this is inconvenient in any way, let me know.

Hoping you are well, and looking forward to seeing you and Harry,

Hermione

Wishing to reply to Hermione immediately, Ron found some parchment and his quill, and scratched out a letter to send back to the woman he loved (and, with any luck, would be proposing to by the end of the week). He told her that the 27th would be fine, and that he was ecstatic she was coming.

It would only be a matter of time before Ron would finally get to see his Hermione again, and "ecstatic" wasn't actually a strong enough word for how he was feeling at the moment.

A/N: So what do you think? Should I work on the rest and submit the next chapter or two? This isn't going to be a very long fic; three to four chapters maximum, I would estimate, but if you guys don't think I should bother with the rest then I won't. Either way, it's up to you guys! I'd love to hear what you all think, whether you hated this or loved it. :) Let me know!