She sat in the chair in the corner. Ron tried hard not to stare for he feared that she would at any moment look over and catch him. It didn't matter if Harry, or really any one else in the common room saw; it only mattered if Hermione would laugh at what she would think is just his cute, stupid little crush.
But it wasn't that. No, not a crush at all. This was something Ron felt. To every extent of his body and mind, this was a strong, sensational feeling. Sometimes, he felt as though he may explode. Sometimes he felt as though he should scream it to the world, but no. He would try his very best to keep this a secret.
The dancing light coming from the fireplace made her shadow just barely flicker and Ron's heart stopped for a moment.
She stirred a bit, while reading her book, but didn't look at him. Ron continued to watch her.
When he looked at her, he was quite certain that she was perfect. She was perfect for him. Maybe nobody else knew that. Maybe she didn't even know that, but he didn't care. It was hard to even pay attention to the negatives in love. All he could see were the positives. He saw beauty in the face of an average girl. He saw humor in the bad jokes she blushed to make. He saw uniqueness in a girl who saw herself to be plain.
But until she realized all of this herself, he would be the quiet friend he knew she needed.
He would laugh with her and be there until she told him to stop.
He loved her. He truly did. He had never felt something quite like this, and yet he knew. No one else knew. Just him, quietly studying her features at night by the fireplace. Watching her walk to her classes. And giving her a little insult when he suspected his cover was faltering. He did what he had to to love her, but not love her. He kept up the rouse, though it almost caused him physical pain. Yeah, he loved her, but he had them all fooled.