I own nothing. It all belongs to JKR. I merely take her characters, put them into comprimising situations and see what happens. I get no money. Only sheer and utter joy.

This Story is in Ron's POV. It may switch from his to other characters. I PROMISE it won't suck that much, and I won't repeat things in other character's POVs. Hope it does well.

Thanks to my two beta readers [it's always a good idea to have a back-up, just in case.] Tarma from HOL and Fain, who's been with me since JF? [My first fic.. It seems so long ago..] YOU GUYS ROCK SO HARD!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Read and Review! It makes my day, I could live off of Reviews! Sad, but true. Come one, you know you want to!

Chapter One ::

The Confessions of One, Nearly Headless Nick

I've been sitting in the Common Room for hours. For the most part, Hogwarts has been empty for several weeks. Everyone left; only a few of us wanted to stay. Most of us are Seventh Years, and like Ginny, a rare Sixth Year. The War hasn't started yet, and we're doing everything we can to be ready. The War could start any day now, since with every passing moment, Voldemort gets stronger.
This is the first time I've actually studied. Never in my seven years here have I actually studied. This, this is different. This is my life, and the life of others. I have to protect Harry, well; really I have to protect Hermione. Harry can take care of himself; he's faced Voldemort six times already, and came out just fine. A little bruised, a little broken. He always pulls through; he's always okay in the end. Hermione though, she's never had to worry about facing him. I'm not worried about myself really. As long as Hermione's okay.
I've loved her since Second Year. I knew I did when I puked up slugs for her. My love for her is one-sided. I used to be okay with it, saying that she'd come around if she loved me, that she was clever enough to figure it out. As The War gets closer though, it gets harder to deal with. There are times where I want to scream at her. It's so infuriating that she hasn't figured it out. I want to tell her, but the fear of rejection is too much.
"Ron?" I jerked my head out of the book of spells, to see Harry.
"Harry."
"You're still up?"
"Yeah. I just want to know what I'm doing when I need it."
"I think you'll know, you'll be surprised to know how much you really do know."
"You sounded just like Hermione just then." I smiled at the thought of her.
"You've been thinking about her a lot, haven't you?" He was the only one I told.
"Yeah."
"You should tell her, you know."
"I know, but she wouldn't love me back."
"Ron, come off it. With The War coming, you think you'd want to tell her."
"I used to be okay. I used to be okay without her knowing. Now, it's getting harder to handle."
"It's been ages, you have to tell her. You don't know she won't love you back."
"Why would she? When she could have someone better? Someone much better than poor Ronald Bilius Weasley."
"Oh please. Wait... Your middle name is Bilius?" He shook with laughter as I glared at him. After a few minutes, he was able to continue, "You wouldn't be able to stand it. Remember Viktor?" I cringed at the mention of his name. I was jealous when she went to the Ball with him. No, I was beyond jealous. I wanted to punch him that night, more than once.
"I can't, not with everything that's going on."
"Look at it this way, would you rather die without her knowing, or die with her knowing and being with her a little while?" Now, I don't like the thought of death, even if it is there, but Harry did have a point.
"I know, I know. But it doesn't seem so important in the light of things. I'm more worried about her, than if she knows that I love her."
"Ron, you have nothing to lose, you know."
"Yes I do."
"What?"
"Her." I walked to my dormitory, even though Harry has a point, I can't bear loosing her. Not like this. Not in a time where we need to be so close knit. My body is exhausted, but my mind is racing. Harry makes so much sense. I have to tell her.

The Great Hall is almost barren, with very few students scattered around. It's weird having the space so empty. I haven't eaten much, and I don't sleep. I'm still having nightmares from Fifth Year, but now, they're a little different. Instead of trying to save myself, I'm trying to save Hermione. And I fail. I always wake up then, in a cold sweat and twisted in the bed sheets. After that, I toss and turn, never fully getting back to sleep. I end up going to the Common Room or out to the Qudditch pitch to run a few laps. Lupin and the rest of the Order have been training us, so that we can be ready when The War actually does begin.
I push myself hard, harder than Harry and Hermione push themselves. Harry doesn't really need it, and Hermione... That's why I push so hard, so I can protect her.
I know I'm staring at the Hufflepuff table now, where Hermione is sitting. She's sitting with this guy from her Arithamacy class, Drew. I know he fancies her, I'm not sure if she fancies him or not.
"Ron?" My mind is so far away I barely hear him.
"Oh, Harry."
"You've been staring over there for the past ten minutes. You've really got to tell her."
"Did you not hear I word I said last night? I can't."
"Why again, can't you exactly?"
"Because I know she won't love me back."
"Ron, you do not know that."
"Harry, please. Spare me."
"Well, you don't. For all you know, she loves you just as much as you love her."
"I can't chance her never talking to me again."
"You've got to tell Hermione."
"Tell me what?" I failed to notice she left the Hufflepuff table.
"Oh, it's nothing." How much had she heard? My ears turned pink.
"Ron, your ears are pink. It's not nothing." She had me there, damn my pink ears.
"I'll tell you when I'm ready, okay?" She looked at me questioningly. I can't do it now. I just can't.
"Well, alright."

We're not supposed to be on the Third Floor, but I come here to think sometimes. No one bothers me; no one even knows I come here. Not even Harry, unless he gets out the Map, he'll never know. I'm not sure how long I've been here, or even what time it is. I wish I could tell her, but there's that chance of her being so upset about it and never speaking to me again. I couldn't live if that happened.
"Mr. Weasley?" Whoa, who...?
"Nearly Headless Nick... What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same."
"Thinking."
"About Miss Granger, correct?"
"How did you know?"
"Mr. Weasley, it is not that difficult to figure out. I see how you look at her. It is only obvious. I also heard you talking to Mr. Potter about it earlier this morning. I agree with Mr. Potter. I believe you should tell her."
"What if she's completely disgusted? What if she never talks to me again?"
"I believe that she fancies you as well. I do not think she will be disgusted or never talk to you again. She is your friend after all."
"I just can't think of losing her, not with The War so close."
"I do not think you will lose her. You have not seen the way she looks at you."
"What?"
"In all of my years, I have never seen a look quite like that, but I could tell you what it is in an instant. It is love, Mr. Weasley. Her eyes are a brilliant shade of brown when she looks at you, so full of life, so in love. I believe you make her very happy."
"Are you sure you're not losing it? I have never seen her look at me like that."
"You are truly blind to it then, Mr. Weasley. She looked at you in that way just this morning."
"You are losing it."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Weasley." He floated away. Now if that wasn't the strangest conversation I've had in my life... How did he know so much? If he knew, why didn't Hermione? Why didn't I know she fancied me, if in fact she does?