Watching Ronald Weasley sleep could be very interesting sometimes. The way he moved in his bed, letting out uncomfortable sighs once in a while. He spoke often, saying things that usually referred to quidditch, like catch it, or the longest phrase he ever said: Weasley is our king. But almost always, only one word was said through his lips during all night: Hermione.

Interesting indeed.

When he said that magic word, his body relaxed and he could finally find himself comfortable. He would stretch unconsciously, and yawn. The image of the brown-haired girl made his heart beat a little faster, but that helped him to sleep. And just to remember the sweet scent his friend emanated made him breathe deeply, in hope that maybe he would smell it.

Oh, yes, Ron Weasley was very much in love. He was only sixteen, and yet he had already found that person people often call soul mate. Of course he didn't know that at first. When he was twelve he thought he had a crush, a simple thing that could easily go away. But, to his surprise, it only increased as the years passed, and soon he learned to think about it like love. It was a good thing Viktor Krum didn't study in Hogwarts, and even more luck was that Durmstrang was so far from their school. God, he hated that boy.

Just to start with, he wasn't that handsome, was he? The expression he always had in his face made Ron sick. Krum thought he was the super star just because he was a professional quidditch player… why would he want to date Hermione? She was beautiful, of course, but she was so much more intelligent than him…he probably didn't understand a single thing she said. Stupid I-am-so-cool Bulgarian quidditch player.

Hermione drove Ron crazy. He didn't get her. There was the rebel Hermione: the same Hermione that hit Malfoy across the face when he insulted Hagrid, the Hermione that broke rules when necessary. There was the quiet Hermione: The Hermione Ron caught staring at him with a strange look on her face sometimes. And there was the angry Hermione, the same one that usually fought with him about nonsense stuff, the same one that made Ron feel so bad and guilty.

Even with all the confusion that girl was, Ron loved her the same. He loved every bit of her: her big brown eyes, her smile, her rudeness when she was angry. Ron had always thought that when Hermione was angry she looked incredibly cute.

Even though, Ron had never said any of these to Hermione. He was afraid- too afraid, that she might not like him back. He was also afraid that… well, that she might like someone else. Someone like Harry.

That possibility tortured him so much.

It was Christmas and it was snowing quite hard. Thick carpets of snow could be seen from the Gryffindor tower through its crystal windows, and the smell of turkey, sausages and hot chocolate was completely enrapturing. Ron woke up with the feeling that he was going to pass a perfect day with his family, Harry… and, of course, Hermione. He smiled at the thought.

Ron glanced at the little mountain of presents that rest on his bed and threw a pillow at Harry, who continued snoring loudly. He threw him a second pillow casually.

His friend finally opened his eyes slowly, while the light started to enter the dormitory.

"Merry Christmas Harry" said Ron while he unwrapped his mother's gift: a blue sweater with a golden "R" in the center, and a big massive chocolate cupcake. Ron wondered why his mom never grew tired of giving away the same presents every year. I don't mind, though he thought when he gave a big bite to the cupcake.

"Merry Christmas Ron" his best friend answered from his bed, starting to unwrap his presents as well. "Oh!" He exclaimed, suddenly awake.

"What?" Ron stopped eating, and looked at Harry. He was holding something in his right hand.

"Hermione." He said simply, and showed him what he was holding.

It was a golden snitch-shaped necklace. It was a little smaller than a real snitch, but it had wings as well: wings that moved softly against his new owner's hand. Harry opened the snitch, and threw it at Ron, who catch it easily.

There was a small picture of him, Harry and Hermione. In the other side, Harry's parents, Lily and James Potter, smiled brightly and waved at him.

"Wow." Ron said. He felt a rush of jealousy invading him, and he tried not to make a face: He knew Hermione quite well: That gift must have taken her a lot of time.

"Wow." Harry agreed, but then he added: "It freaks me out a little bit, you know. Reminds me of the Slytherin locket"

Ron nodded. He was thinking exactly the same thing. Harry excused himself and went to the bathroom.

When Harry was gone, Ron started searching frantically between his presents, wishing eagerly that Hermione had sent him an equal present, or else he would feel horrible. He hit himself with his Advanced Potion Making book in the head when he didn't find anything. Anything at all: not even a chocolate frog. His throat went dry, and he blinked a couple of times. He felt disappointed…and pathetic.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…was all he could think of. Ron had sent Hermione a muggle novel he knew she'd enjoy called Pride and prejudice, a pair of beautiful leather gloves with her name, and bunches of chocolates. He'd spent all of his money not even thinking clearly, just picturing in his head that beautiful smile, knowing she would dedicate it to him when she opened the gifts…

He had never felt dumber in his entire life, so embarrassed. When Hermione woke up, and saw his presents for her, his feelings would be too clear. She'd know immediately how he felt about her.

Why would she tell him when she saw him? I'm sorry Ron, I don't feel like that. Even worse: I'm really sorry Ron, but I love Harry.

Ron put his pillow inside his mouth and bit it so he wouldn't scream in frustration. He knew for instance that there was only a solution.

Go to the girls' dormitory. Take the presents…and that way Hermione would never find out.

He thought about it for a short instant until he decided it was the best he could do. He vacillated. He could hear the water of the shower- Harry was still in the bathroom.

"Harry, I'm going for a walk! See you at the Great Hall!" Ron shouted. He rolled his eyes at how fake his voice sounded, and was afraid for a moment that Harry would laugh at him, and tell him he already knew… he had always known, but Hermione preferred him anyways, so he didn't need to bother…

"Okay!" Harry shouted back.

Maybe he was a little paranoid, after all.

Ron went downstairs to the common room, and he felt a wave of relief when he didn't see Hermione. She was sleeping.

Ron hit one of the bricks of the staircase to the girls' dormitory. There was a loud crack, and Ron knew he had done it right: the staircase wasn't going to object when he climbed it.

What have I done? He thought when he arrived at the front door. He stopped there, and breathed heavily. He wasn't so sure about his brilliant plan anymore. The other girls weren't there, of course, but…

Hesitant, he decided to do what Hermione Granger would have never: he stopped thinking, and let his instincts do whatever they wanted.

The girls' dormitory wasn't as horrible as he had secretly thought: it was pretty much like his own dormitory, except that there weren't any Chudley Cannons posters. The walls were painted of a soft pink, also. There were four canopy beds, three of them empty. The bed that was occupied was the one which was next to the only window in the room: Hermione breathed slowly and peacefully, unaware that she was being watched by the one and only boy that had given her his heart entirely.

Ron watched Hermione, amazed. She looked even more beautiful sleeping.

He shook his head, trying to control his emotions, and he saw the presents that were near her feet.

Slowly, he approached Hermione's bed. He found his presents so fast he was disappointed: he didn't want to leave. Instead, he seemed tempted to see what Hermione had received…what Harry had given her, all right.

Hermione had quite a lot of presents. There were books, candies, jewelry, long letters, drawings, plush toys, sweaters and scarfs… the red-haired boy almost gasped when he saw a little box that read: From Viktor, to Hermione. He didn't need to unwrap it to know what it was, because the shape of the box was too obvious: Krum had bought her a necklace. God, he hated that boy.

Ron was too immersed in what he was doing he didn't really notice when a pair of brown eyes opened. He was going to put Krum's present down, after fighting with the temptation of burning it, when he heard a sweet voice and froze:

"Feeling like being a stalker, are we?"

Ron jumped of the bed, and three big presents fell to the floor. He blushed furiously, and managed to look straight into Hermione's eyes.

"I'm sorry. I- I'm going now. I'm sorry." He repeated clumsily, tripping with one of the fallen presents while he made his way to the door.

"Don't! Come here." Hermione called.

Ron turned slowly, and walked to Hermione's bed.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, truly worried.

"Nothing." Ron lied unsuccessfully.

"Ronald, you come to my dormitory alone, and start checking my presents when I'm still asleep. That may not be wrong, but you can't say it's normal." The girl said, rolling her eyes.

Ron sighed and sat down near Hermione.

"It's a long story." He murmured.

"We have time."

"Harry must be downstairs."

"He can wait."

Ron didn't answer.

"Ron, this is irritating me, really."

Ron tried to find a soft way to tell her the truth. But there wasn't a soft way, and that didn't surprise him, because a complicated feeling like the one he felt could't be told just like that. Love could suck, but it was specific, and Ron understood that. He couldn't tell her "I like you", because that wouldn't be the entire truth, he did like her, but it wasn't just that. Ron had been confused for a very long time, and it thrilled him that he had finally understood love's unique complexity: the way of saying without speaking, of loving without liking.

It wasn't really that complicated, but he liked to dramatize.

"Hermione" He started, slowly. "I know I'm dumb. I know I'm dumb, irritating, stupid, and much more. But I happen to have a good mentality, and I decide- I choose the best. Always. So I'm never wrong in that sense. Yeah, I can be a complete idiot when you're talking about History of Magic, or Potions, but when it's about making choices… I'm never wrong."

"Ron, I…"

"No, listen! I made a choice years ago, without even knowing: I chose you to be the person I would like to spend my entire life with. I'm in love with you, Hermione. I love you. You're my half. I couldn't live without you." Ron made a pause. "Okay, now I can't remember any more cheesy things, but you get my point. I love you."

Hermione was taken aback. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

"Ron… I never thought… you…" She stuttered, unbelievingly. "I…"

"I know you like Harry." Ron said rapidly. "It's okay. I knew it." He tried to sound cool, but his voice was more like a moan of pain.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, even more surprised. "You think… you think I like Harry?"

"You don't?" Now Hermione wasn't the only one confused.

"God, no! I love you!"

"You don't…? Then who…? Whoa, hang on. What was the last part?"

"I love you. I love you, I love you!" Hermione repeated, as if she herself couldn't believe it.

"No. No, you don't. This is nonsense!"

"Why?"

"I… I sent you these gloves for Christmas. You sent Harry that snitch… and you gave me nothing" Ron said, embarrassed of how sad he sounded.

"Oh." Hermione flushed bright red. "That's because… I wanted to give it to you myself."

Then, to Ron's astonishment, Hermione pulled out of her suitcase something that, to him, was ten thousand better than Harry's necklace, just because Hermione had wanted to give it to him herself.

A notebook.

"What is this?" Ron whispered, bewildered.

"Take a look." She said, and then she handed him the notebook.

Ron took it, and opened it.

The front page said: Wizard's Dictionary for difficult Witch's behavior: what to do, and what not to do, by Hermione Jean Granger.

Ron turned the page, and, to his amazement, it said:

To my best friend, Ron Weasley

You may not know what to say

But you always know what to do

With love,

Hermione

"You really did this." Said Ron.

"I did." Replied Hermione shyly. The boy in front of her couldn't believe his ears.

"Can you please repeat what you said a while ago?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You know… the words." Ron said, smiling.

"Oh. Maybe I want to hear them from you, too." Hermione answered, shrugging.

"I love you." Ron said without doubting.

Hermione, who expected a playful answer, went silent for a moment because of the shock.

"I love you, too." She said lowly.

Ron grinned, and he leaned, getting closer to Hermione…he could hear her breathing heavily, waiting for him to make a move. Ron caressed her cheek tenderly, not entirely believing what he was doing, thinking it was a dream, and that he would wake up in any instant. Scared by this sudden idea, he finally dared to kiss her passionately, and she kissed back, and the "Wizards' Dictionary for difficult Witches' behavior: what to do, and what not to do" book fell to the ground, but neither of them cared; they continued kissing until they convinced each other it wasn't a dream. Both of them had actually said "I love you", and they had all the time they wanted to kiss.