Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

It had been one year, almost to the day, since she sat there contemplating whether or not she was in love. It had been a long year, one that seemed the longest ever. It was filled with death and change and most importantly, it was filled with self discovery.

She has learned a lot about herself, and love this past year. She has learned enough to conclude that Harry would never love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way he loved Ginny Weasley.

When Harry first showed his feelings a couple of days ago, after the Quidditch game, she felt her heart sink. She spent the rest of the night, in bed, heart broken.

Tonight, she sat in the chair, the very same one she sat in a year before, and watched the flames flickering in the fireplace. She held a book in her hand, as usual. This time though, it was a muggle romance that her mum sent her for her birthday. She's read it twice already. it was about a girl, like her, who was in love with her best fried. The only difference between her and the character though was that the character got the boy in the end.

She groaned in frustration. How is it that people in books always get a happy ending to their sad beginning? Where was her happily ever after? She hated this book, it was like a slap in the face. It showed her what she could never have. What she would never have. This made her so unbelievably angry that in a split second decision, she threw it into the fire.

As it fell, something slipped out from in between the pages, an envelope addressed to her. Confused, she made to grab for it and screamed in pain as the fire licked at her fingers. she was unable to retrieve it from the flames. She watched as it was consumed by the flames, starting from the edges and working its way in, it crumpled and disintegrated into nothingness.

She cursed herself. How could she be so stupid as to not check the pages before destroying the book? Now she would forever wonder what was in the letter and who wrote it.

As she stood up, she heard footsteps coming from the staircase that led to the boys dormitory. Immediately, her mind flashed back to the year before, how Harry had come down, claiming to hear crying. She waited in anticipation to see if it was him again. But no words could used to describe the shock she was in when the person, or people in this case, reached the bottom of the stairs. None other than the object of her affection and his girlfriend walked were standing there in front of her giggling. She watched, flabbergasted, as they walked across the room, heads together, whispering, then disappear as Harry draped the invisibility cloak over them. she listened as the door open and the close shut. They never even noticed her.

She fell back into the chair and let go of a breath that she hadn't even realized she had been holding. She hugged her knees close to her chest and screamed in agony as she began to sob uncontrollably, not caring how loud she was getting. She thought that she was over him,that she had moved on. He had a girlfriend that he loved, she had to accept that, she just had to. But you never really forget your first love right?

Seconds, minutes, an hour passed and her tears began to subside some what. She thought of how pathetic she was, being in love with some one who would only ever love her like a sister.

Her head snapped up at the sound of footsteps that, again, were coming from the boys staircase. She dreaded finding out who was coming now and contemplated whether or not she should grab her stuff and run. But it was to late for that, the footsteps were closer now, if she were to run, she'd surely be seen. So she did the next best thing she could think of, she attempted to dry her tears and, if possible, squeeze herself into an even tighter ball, hoping to remain unseen.

She listened as the unidentified boy reached the last stop. She caught little snippets of what he started mumbling to himself as he began walking around the room, "...hearing things...going insane...back to bed...BLOODY HELL HERMIONE! What are you doing down here?" he yelled, surprised.

She looked up at him, her body tense and watched as his shocked expression turned to confused and worried.

"Are you alright Hermione?" He asked, "I thought I heard crying," he said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "You look like you've been crying," he accused.

"I'm alright, Ron. " She said as she grabbed her potions book that was conveniently placed at her feet and buried her head in it, trying desperately to hide her tear stained face. "Go back to bed and let me study in peace."

"Hermione..." She ignored him. "Hermione..." he said again, trying unsuccessfully to get her attention as her tears start falling again. "Hermione, look at me." She continued to act as though he wasn't there. Then she felt him gently try and take the book away from her, she tried to hold on but eventually, she gave up. She then started to stare at her hands refusing to look at him. He reached out and lifted her chin up, his grip was gentle, but firm, giving her no choice but to stare up at him.

"What's wrong Hermione?" He asked gently.

"I already told you, I'm fine. Everything is alright." She said, unable to convince him as easily as she had convinced Harry a year ago.

"Yeah, I totally believe you," he said sarcastically, as he wiped away the tears that still streamed from her eyes. "Now tell me what's wrong. I'm not leaving until you do."

"Fine then," she said as she made to get up, "then I will."

"Oh no you don't." He pulled her up off the chair, sat down and dragged her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tight around her stomach, "You're not going anywhere." he whispered in her ear as she struggled in his arms. Eventually, she admitted defeat and went limp. Her legs were draped across his, and her head rested on his shoulder. He could feel her tears soaking through his thin pajama t-shirt. He was confused, why wouldn't she tell him what was wrong? He knew that they didn't always get along, but it was odd that she just plain out refused to tell him what was on her mind. She always went to him when she was upset, at least he thought she did.

He looked down at her. She was staring off into space, her eyes looked dead, there was no emotion in them. He followed her gaze to the fireplace, it remained there for a while as he watched the flames. He looked a little lower to see her bookmark laying near the edge of the fire. How strange he thought, he wondered how it got there, he looked around for her book, but it was no where to be seen which was even more strange, she was hardly ever seen without a book. He continued to stare at the bookmark when he realized something, the bookmark was at the foot of the fire place, that could only meant that...his whole body tense up. Could that be the reason why she was so upset. Did she read...? He felt sick.

"Hermione, please tell me why you're so upset." He begged, now panicking.

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. In them, she saw the panic, the worry, the fear. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because you're my best friend. I care about you, it bothers me that you're so upset and it's frustrating that I can't help you because you refuse to tell me what's wrong."

Looking up into those concerned filled eyes, she couldn't help but break down and tell him everything. She told him all about her feelings towards Harry and last years encounter with him. She told him what happened that night and she watched as his face turned red with anger when he heard that Harry and Ginny were spending time together so late at night. By the time she was almost finished, she was crying again, "...and then, before he came down," she sniffled, "I threw my book into the fire and an envelope fell out of it. I tried to grab it but I was too late," she help up her burned hand as proof. "Now, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what was in that bloody letter," she finished dramatically. She looked up at him to see the sad, shocked expression on his face, she wondered what he was thinking right now.

"So," he said slowly, "you never read the letter?" She shook her head. "And the reason you were so upset was because of Harry, not what was in the letter?"

"Right." He visibly relaxed at her words, and a smile broke out on his face. "Why are you so interested in this letter?" his smile fell.

"No reason," he said quickly, his face starting to turn red, "just thought it was strange, that's all. But if you're alright now, I think I'll leave you to study and I'll just go back to bed." He lifted her up off his lap and made to go up stairs but she stopped him.

"You don't know what was in that letter do you?" She asked while he continued to creep toward the staircase. His face, if possible, was even more red. "Ron, you don't happen to know who wrote it?"

"Maybe..." He mumbled. "But I'm really tired Hermione, I'm going to bed, goodnight."

Frustrated at his vague answer, she ran up to him and hugged him tight. "you're not going anywhere." She laughed at the reversal of roles. "I'm not letting you go until you tell me what you know about this letter." His whole body was tensed up and she could tell he was panicking. Then an idea, crossed her mind, "Ron, you didn't write that letter, did you?" His was silent for a minute.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "yeah, I did."

She smiled at him, "Why didn't you just say so?" she asked excitedly. "Why did you write a letter and not just talk to me? What was in it?" She was still holding on to him tightly, refusing to even loosen her grip until he revealed what was in that letter.

"Nothing, it was stupid really." He tried to pry her arms off of him but was unsuccessful.

"Please tell me? I'd really like to know what you wrote." She figured that since she told him what was bothering her the least he could do was tell her what was in that damn letter.

"You just looked so sad lately that I thought I'd try and cheer you up. I knew you'd get a kick out of finding a letter hidden you your book, so I just did it." He put his arms around her so it felt more like they were hugging and less like he was being held there against his will. She rested her head on his shoulder and loosened her grip but was still not satisfied with his answer.

"So now I know why you put it in there, but what was in it?" She asked impatiently.

He squeezed her tight, holding on to her as if he'd never be able to do it again. "Umm...It just said that you were my best friend, that I was worried about you because you've been so quiet lately. There were a few jokes, I think, and just some of my favorite memories of us throughout the years...and..." This was it, he was going to tell her, he had to. If he didn't do it now, he knew he'd never gain the courage to to it again. "...and that I might possibly be in love you." He sighed a breath of relief, glad to have finally told her. She, however, dropped her arms and took a step back.

"What?" She whispered, staring up at him.

He chuckled nervously, "Yeah, you probably weren't expecting that one, huh?" He kept his eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look at her. "It's just, remember two years ago, when you went to the Yule Ball with Krum? I was going to ask you first but I got so nervous and then when I finally asked you, it all came out wrong and sounded more like an insult than me asking you out. And then you showed up to the ball with him and I knew I could never compete with that and I got really jealous and that's when I really messed up. I was so mean, so absolutely horrid to you and I knew I blew it. I thought you'd never speak to me again. Obviously, I couldn't ask you out for the rest of the year, not when you were still with Krum. And then last year, I was still too ashamed to even think of trying to ask you out again. Which brings us to this year and I had that whole embarrassing thing with Lavender. She was just a distraction really, and a really annoying one at that..." He kept rambling on, trying to explain himself while she stood there listening to him.

She was still in shock at his confession. She never dreamed, that he would ever like her like that. They were friends, the best of. But then again so were she and Harry. She couldn't help but compare him to Harry as her rambled on. Ron was always there for her when she needed him unlike Harry, who was always wrapped up in his own problems. Ron knew when she was upset, and refused to give up on her until she told him exactly what was wrong, unlike Harry who easily accepted any lie she told him so he wouldn't have to deal with it. Ron noticed her, unlike Harry. Ron loved her...unlike Harry.

As she thought more about it, she felt this bubble of happiness rise up within her. How could she have been so blind? For years she claimed she loved Harry who would never love her back and for years Ron has always been there, just waiting for her.

"...and then tonight when I saw you crying like that, I assumed that you read the letter and I was like 'Bloody hell, is she crying because of that?' And I felt awful.

"It's okay though, if you don't feel the same way, I don't expect you to. But we can still be friends right? We'll always be friends?"

"Yeah," she smiled weakly at him. "Right."

He gave her a sad smile then walked up the staircase and went back to bed.

-{-

The weeks that followed were spent awkwardly, as expected. Her days were spent in the library, trying her best to avoid any contact with him and his were spent trying to think of a way to make everything right again. Her nights were spent in her chair, by the fire place while his were spent in bed, wishing he had kept his big mouth shut.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see Ron, but after a confession like that, she felt she needed time to think. The look of great sadness that passed over his face that night, was still etched in her brain, she couldn't get it out of her mind. She had missed him these past few weeks. She never realized how much she liked being around him, how much she loved being around him.

It had been a month, a month, since that night and for some reason, she just couldn't understand why it was so hard for everything to be right again. All she wanted was to forget that night, to forget what happened. But she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried.

There was always this thought floating in the back of her mind: she liked Ron, she might even love him, but she was having such a hard time admitting it to herself because for so long she thought she was in love with Harry. But now, she was beginning to question that love. How can someone be in love with someone who will never love them back? Is that even possible? She was now coming to the realization that maybe she never really loved him in the first place, she just thought she was. So then, where does Ron fit in? Are they friends or more than friends?

Just as she came to her decision, the person she'd been waiting to see came down the stairs. She looked up at him and smiled. He didn't notice her at first, his eyes were cast down and he looked thoroughly depressed. He looked surprised when he looked up and saw her, but seeing that smile, he couldn't help but return it.

"Hey Hermione, what's up?" He said awkwardly.

"Not much, I was just thinking."

"Yeah? What about?"

"Nothing much."

"Oh," he sighed. "Look, I've been thinking, and this really isn't working so great is it? I mean we tried and it's just not going as well as I thought it would. But you have to understand, I really don't want to lose you Hermione. I need you in my life. Is there any way I can make you forget what happened that night?"

"I've tried, but I've come to realize that maybe I don't want to forget all that much."

"What do you-?"

He was cut off by her throwing her arms around him and crashing her lips down onto his. He was forced to take a step back by the force of her throwing herself at him, he definitely wasn't expecting that. It took him a minute to realize exactly what was happening, but when he did, he could not contain his happiness. He picked her up and spun her around as she laughed in his arms. Finally putting her down, he rested his forehead on her, closed his eyes and smiled, not believing what just happened.

"Hey Ron?" She said quietly.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Hmm?"

"I think I might possibly be in love with you too."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

"Yeah." She smiled back. So this is what it feels like, she thought, to get a fairy tale ending, to get the happily ever after. To be in love.

A/N I'd like to thank The Invisible Ninja for proof reading and editing this. Reviews would be deeply appreciated.