Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't need to be writing fanfics about Ron being unable to confess to Hermione because he would've already done so :) The song is by a Portuguese band called TwentyInchBurial

30 minutes journey

Once more we sat in the perfects room of the Hogwarts Train… only this time we were alone, all other perfects were patrolling the corridors. I sat across her, trying to say something but the words wouldn't come…

I wish that I could know

What I'm supposed to do

In moments like this one

I can't break this silence that surrounds us

'I think I'm getting more coward every year… I should tell her how I feel and get this over… maybe she likes me back but,… what if she doesn't? What if I ruin our friendship?' these thoughts run through my head as I try once more to look at her.

Once again, your eyes…

Have stolen…

Your eyes have stolen my breathe

Only thirty minutes left to Hogwarts… this was usually the time we got up and went after Harry, but I was still not ready to leave, I wanted to stay in that room forever, even if that silence was starting to become uncomfortable, even if I couldn't bear to stare into her eyes, even if my legs were shacking and my mouth was dry… I just wanted to be with her…

So here we are, sitting in this train

In a 30 minutes journey

My mouth is dry and

My legs are shacking with fear.

- Maybe we should get up and meet Harry – she says in her heavenly voice, but I barely hear her, my thoughts are no longer in that train, but far away, in what we could become.

click she snaps her fingers in front of me as I turn back into reality.

- Were you listening to anything I was saying, Ronald Weasley?

- Huh, sorry Hermione, I wasn't really here… - not really a lie, not all the truth, but how could I explain her I had been day-dreaming about her ever since we were left alone? – Let's go meet Harry, then – I said, trying to hide the "sadness" in my voice.

Once again, your eyes…

Have stolen…

Your eyes have stolen my breathe

She looks at me in a weird way… maybe I couldn't hide my sadness at all, maybe she will ask me what's wrong, maybe…

It's just one station left

And you get up, and smile to me

Should I go after you?
I can't go, I won't go…

- Maybe she will just smile and leave – I mutter as I see her do so. I try to go after her but my legs don't move… Her scent is still in the air, and I smell the perfume I gave her once… Maybe I should go too…

And now you're gone.

Finally I manage to open the carriage door and step outside, to go after her. And all will return to normal.