READ first: Before I say anything else I just want to say that Ron is OOC in their fight (at least I think he's OOC). You'll see how when you read it. I made him OOC on purpose. And I guess you could say Hermione is OOC too although not as much as Ron. Again, I meant to do that.

Rating: T for some language and the angst really.

A/N: "All These Things I've Said" is my second Ron/Hemrione fic! (does happy dance) It takes place during HBP and is AU, I guess. This has actually been sitting in my brain for a very long time and it's gone through a lot of revisions to make it easier for me to write especially the ending and their arguement. This story was inspired by a picture I saw of them together. It is the most adorable pic I've seen of them. Check out my profile for the link. ;) So...that's basically it. Please leave a review after reading! They make me happy. :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, this scene would've been in the book. But I dont, so it's not. :(

All These Things I've Said

Up in the boys' dormitories of Gryffindor Tower, Ron Weasley lay sprawled across his four-poster bed, staring determinedly at the ceiling. It had been an unusually warm spring day and everyone was outside enjoying the last bit of sunshine the day had to offer but despite this, the youngest of the Weasley boys had made a ton of excuses, none of which were even remotely convincing, of why he had chosen to remain indoors after dinner. So, after watching forlornly as his friend, Harry, and sister, Ginny, both hand in hand, walked off into the sunny grounds of Hogwarts, he trudged back upstairs and threw himself onto his bed.

And there he was now, in the exact same position he had been in for the last hour and he showed no signs of waiting to move. I wonder where Hermione is, he thought and he immediately cursed himself as this randomly popped into his head. What the bloody hell are you thinking about her for? She's mad at you, remember? Ron winced. Of course, he didn't need to be reminded of that. It was practically his fault.

Ron leaned back into his chair and groaned. Damn Charms, he thought as he squinted at the textbook in front of him. With every passing day, it seemed as if the classes were growing increasingly more difficult as the teachers prepared their students for their upcoming N.E.W.T.s and no matter what he did, he just couldn't get it all in his mind.

Just then, Hermione came through the portrait hole. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as if she'd been running and her bushy hair was a tangled mess. Nonetheless, Ron couldn't help but think about how beautiful she looked right then despite her disarray. You're still with Lavender, he reminded himself. But the longer their "relationship" went, the more he wanted it to end. He simply didn't have feelings for her, certainly not in the way he had feelings for Hermione. They were on speaking terms now but even then it was still a bit prickly.

"Hey, Hermione," he said.

She appeared to be a bit startled. "Oh, hi, Ron."

Ron chuckled but immediately grew serious as she came nearer. "Listen, could I borrow your Charms notes?"

At this she scowled. "What's wrong with yours?"

"They're not really making any sense." he said.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before answering. "No."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!"

"No, Ron!"

"Look," He ran a hand through his messy red hair. "I just need them for a few minutes. Actually, tell you what. I;ll just make a copy of them and you can have them back in two seconds."

Hermione looked scandalized. "Do you honestly think that I'm just going to hand my Charms notes that I've been pouring over for the past year over to you like a bunch of Pumpkin Pasties?"

"Well, you've done it before." muttered Ron, almost whining.

"That was different. You don't deserve them this time." There was a hint of an icy tone in her voice.

Ron stared at her, dumbfounded. "I - I don't - wh - " he stuttered. "Look, I would've taken better notes if I hadn't been exhausted from the nightly Quidditch practices Harry was - "

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" interrupted Hermione sarcastically. "Quidditch! The only thing that seems to penetrate your mind. Tell me Ron, has Quidditch helped you in studying for Charms?"

"What - "

But Hermione cut in again. "No, it hasn't!" She was yelling now. "Which is why you now have no idea what Professor Flitwick has been lecturing on for the past six months!"

Ron was at a loss. Why the bloody hell was she acting this way? He was beginning to grow impatient. "I have no idea why you're going on about this. All I need are your notes."

"No, Ronald! Because while you were soaring through the clouds and stuffing your tongue down Lavender's throat I've been working my arse off all year because I actually care about passing!"

At the mention of Lavender's name, Ron immediately felt all the blood drain from his face one moment and come rushing back in the next. Somehow, he couldn't find anything to say and simply stared at Hermione. But as soon as he found his voice, he stood up and burst out yelling, "You're just jealous because snogging Krum wasn't half as good as you expected it to be!"

Hermione blinked at him and promptly turned scarlet. "This has nothing to do with Viktor!"

"Then what is this about, Hermione?!" Ron shot back, taking a step toward her. "Huh? So what if I'm snogging Lavender? What is it to you?"

Ron saved himself from further torture by stopping the memory halfway. For the past month, their argument had been playing nonstop through his mind as if he didn't feel guilty enough about what had happened. Even though he had broken up with Lavender a few days after the fight, Hermione wouldn't do so much as to even be in the same room as him.

You're such an arse! He lashed out his foot and felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg as his foot collided with one of the posts of his bed. Swearing vehemently, he covered his face with his hands and groaned.

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Ron's icy blue eyes blazed in front of her. "Then what is this about, Hermione?! Huh?" he yelled as he stepped forward. "So what if I'm snogging Lavender? What is it to you?

"It's everything to me!" Hermione retorted, also taking a step. She felt her eyes growing hot.

"Oh, it's everything to you is it?" said Ron softly but she could still hear the coldness in his tone. He took another step. Now they were standing about three feet apart. "What about your books? What about your bloody books?! Are they everything do you as well?"

Hermione could hardly believe what he had just said. Tears threatened to cascade down her cheeks but she held them back. "Shut up, Ron!"

"Bloody well make me!"

"You're an arse!" she screamed with all the venom she could muster.

But Ron looked unfazed. "If that's the best you can do then I'm highly disappointed." he sneered.

"You just don't get it, do you?!" Hermione half yelled, half sobbed. Although the tears weren't coming down, her voice was cracking as if they were.

Ron took another step and now stood mere inches away, his tall, lean frame towering over her. He lowered his voice again and spoke almost challengingly. "And what don't I get, Hermione?"

You don't get the fact that I love you, she wanted to yell but just couldn't bring herself to say it. She fought to keep her gaze steady with his as his blue eyes bore into her hazel ones. For a moment, she saw the boy she had fallen in love with in their third year. The boy who goofed around and was often caught with a sheepish, lop-sided grin whenever he managed to make something go wrong. But all trace of that immediately disappeared as his stare hardened. This wasn't the Ron she knew and loved.

"I know you don't give a damn about this," he said quietly after she didn't say any more and she thought she saw a flicker of longing in his eyes. "but there are other things besides books that want a place in your heart as well."

Hermione glared at him, willing her eyes to shoot daggers at the boy before her. For what seemed like hours she held in her emotion until she just couldn't do it anymore. With a sob, she spun around and clamored back out of the portrait hole. Hot tears poured down her face as she ran through the deserted corridors, hardly aware of where she was going. After she had exhausted her legs and had barely enough air in her lungs to breathe, she finally slowed down, the tears coming down even harder than ever. There was an empty classroom to her left so she went in, locking the door behind her. Once she had secured herself inside, she sunk to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, and cried.

As the memory came to a close, a single tear rolled down Hermione Granger's face and she hastily wiped it away. She was sitting on the far east bank of the lake in the same exact position she had been in on the night of the fight. Legs drawn up close to her chest, she hugged them tightly and stared out at the shimmering water. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting beyond the horizon, casting an unearthly glow over the lake. Out of the corners of her eyes, Hermione could see the tiny dots of students milling around in the late afternoon light but she didn't worry about them coming towards her because hardly anyone came to this part of the lake. Hermione sighed. Even though it hurt her to relive their fight, she did it anyway and she often didn't realize that she was until she was halfway through it. She took some of the blame for starting the fight, knowing that if she had just given him her notes none of it would've happened. But at the same time she was glad that she didn't because it would've done nothing to improve Ron's horrible study habits.

Ron.

Just saying his name silently in her head caused another tear to run down her cheek. He had hurt her with what happened that night, hurt her like he never had before. Part of her, her pride, wanted to block him out forever because of what he had said. But the part of her that loved him pleaded with her mind to forgive him and put it all in the past. It was because of these two conflicting emotions that she had been completely miserable this past month and she hated it.

Sighing again, Hermione stopped her train of thoughts, determined to shut out the memory of the fight. Then, hugging her knees even tighter, she focused her attention on the glistening lake before her.

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He could hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Muttering complaints, he threw an arm over his eyes and pretended to be asleep as the doors to the dormitories swung open.

"Ron?" came Harry's voice from the doorway.

Ron made no attempt answer and merely laid there as his friend's footsteps came closer.

"Ron, I know you're awake."

Groaning inwardly, he gave in. "What?" he grunted, his arm still over his eyes.

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

There was a short pause before Harry answered. "Hermione."

Ron cringed. Oh, hell. He finally removed his arm and looked at Harry. "What about her?"

Harry considered his friend for a moment. "I think you should apologize to her now." he said in a soft voice. "It's been...what? A month?"

"33 days." Ron unconsciously corrected. Not that he had been keeping track or anything.

"Right. Well, 33 days isn't the longest you've ever gone not talking but it's time that you said sorry for being a prat."

"Gee, thanks Harry."

Harry held up his hands in defense. "Hey, that's what you sounded like from your point of view and hers."

"I know." Ron snapped. "Don't you think I feel bad enough as it is?"

"I'm just saying, is all."

There was a few moments of silence between them as Ron thought about what Harry had said. "She's not gonna forgive me." He said this like a fact and he had a gut feeling that it was true.

"How do you know?" Harry challenged.

"'Cause I was a downright bastard."

"Well, even if she doesn't forgive you, you'll know that you at least apologized. Unless you meant what you said to her."

Ron shot him a murderous look.

Harry sighed. "Look," he said, leaning against one of the posts of Ron's bed. "you guys are my best friends and I hate being the go-between whenever you two have a row. All I want is for you to get along."

Directing his gaze to the ceiling, Ron thought it over. What did he have to loose? Nothing I haven't lost already.

"Where is she?" he asked after a while.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry smile. "She went down to the lake after dinner."

With a sigh, he heaved himself out of bed and stretched. "Alright," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'll find her."

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Ron stumbled as his foot was suddenly caught on a tree root that had managed to stretch all the way to the water's edge. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't seen the bloody thing in front of him. He swore violently, cursing the thing to hell and back, and continued to trudge along the bank of the lake. While his eyes scoured the land ahead of him, looking for a tell-tale mane of bushy hair, his mind worked furiously as he thought of what to say to Hermione once he found her. He had been searching around the lake for 15 minutes and yet he still didn't have the faintest idea of how he was going to apologize for being the worst prat there ever was.

He hadn't meant any of it. Well, except the last thing he said to her before she ran away. Everything else just sort of came out before he even had a chance to think about saying it. Krum, Lavender, the books. Especially the books. He had never taken a stab at her being smart. It was low, below the belt, dirty but that was exactly the reason why he had said it and now he paid for his stupidity.

Then he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat. She was sitting next to an old tree about 20 feet ahead of him, hugging her legs protectively. Some of her hair was pulled away from her face by a clip while the rest tumbled down her shoulders. The sun was setting on the horizon opposite her, casting a beautiful glow on her features, her skin now a rich, bronze color. God, she was amazing.

For a moment, Ron just stood there and watched her, all coherent thought having disappeared from his mind. He wished the world could just stay like this, forever in this moment, just him and her, no yelling, no arguing but he knew it was pointless to wish this. He also knew that he didn't know how to tell her just how sorry he was. But he had put it off long enough and he wasn't going to get another opportunity like this. So, taking a breath, he walked toward her.

"Hey." he said softly as he stopped a few steps away from her. He braced himself for her response.

There was a half a second's pause. "What is it, Ronald?" Hermione asked sharply, cocking her head slightly to the right so as to glance at him. Her voice was raw and Ron could tell that she had been crying.

He hesitated before continuing, almost sure of her answer. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Does it look like I mind?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione. I just want to talk."

She looked back out at the lake again and almost seemed to deflate as her shoulders slowly relaxed. "Fine."

Letting out his breath, Ron made his way next to her. Bringing his knees to his chest, he clasped his hands loosely around them, leaned back against the tree behind him, and just sat there for a minute, staring at the water. Besides apologizing there was so much more he wanted to tell her but he didn't know where to start. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that the only reason he had gone out with Lavender was to make her notice him, that she, Hermione Granger, was the only one who was ever on his mind even when it didn't seem like that. He wanted to tell all that but now wasn't the moment.

"Listen," he began, finally screwing up his courage. "I'm sorry for everything." He paused, thinking of what to say next. Then, much to his surprise, Hermione spoke.

"Ron, I'm sorry too." she addressed his feet.

But he cut in. "No." he said, looking at her. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I deserved it all. Every single word of it." Silently, he wished she would look at his face instead of his feet so that she could see just how much he meant it. "I know I was an arse to you but I didn't mean any of what I said. I was just..." He searched his mind for how to phrase it. "I was just so fuckin' pissed off at you then for blaming Lavender and Quidditch that I didn't think about what I was saying. That night...it was like someone else was talking to you. Someone I had no control over. I wanted you to feel horrible just because I was being selfish and I'm sorry. Not a day goes by when I don't think about what I did and it kills me."

He fell silent for a moment and watched her as she took that all in. "I know I'm probably past being forgiven," he said quietly, as if maybe her not hearing it would change what would happen. "but I just wanted you to know how truly sorry I am."

Having finished his speech, he waited for some kind of reaction; a smile, an angry retort, a laugh, anything. But none came. Tense, he closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope that she would saying something. Still, silence. His heart sank. Knowing that sitting there wouldn't do neither of them any good, he slowly got to his feet. Then...

"I forgive you, Ron."

He froze, half crouching, half sitting. In somewhat of a daze, he sat himself back down and looked at Hermione who was finally making eye contact with him. She was looking at him almost pleadingly, as if asking him to accept her forgiveness.

"Really?" Ron asked, almost refusing to believe it.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah."

A huge weight was lifted off his chest. She forgives me. He offered her a small, tentative smile which she returned. Unconsciously, he reached for her hand, which was now supporting her weight as she leaned back on it, and squeezed it lightly. He liked the way her hand felt in his; it just seemed to fit perfectly. Then he leaned in closer to her, all the while looking directly into her bright, hazel eyes, until he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. For what seemed like eternity, they stayed in that position, their faces only centimeters apart. Then...

The space between them closed and Ron could feel the light pressure of Hermione's lips on his. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to drift away from reality to a place where only they existed. He never wanted this moment to end but unfortunately, after a few seconds it did, pulling him and Hermione back to the real world. Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled away from each other, both slightly out of breath. Ron forced his eyes open and searched Hermione's face. She was looking at him softly, shyly, her lips slightly parted. When he finally found his voice, he opened his mouth to speak.

"There's something I have to tell - "

But Hermione placed two fingers over his lips, preventing him from continuing. "I know, Ron." she whispered. "I know."

For a second, they just looked at each other. Then Hermione leaned forward and kissed him again, harder this time. Stealing himself, Ron responded, coaxing her mouth open with his. She let out a moan as his tongue shot forward, licking her bottom lip. Ron lifted a hand, slipping it into her soft, brown hair and gently began messaging her head. He felt her hand snake up his torso and rest on his chest, directly over his heart, its light pressure enunciated with every steady beat. They took the kiss deeper. Compared to this, all his other snogs with Lavender were nothing and simply were just snogs. But this, this he poured his heart and soul into, wishing Hermione to know just how much he loved her. However, the need for oxygen became too great and they separated.

His eyes still closed, he leaned his forehead against Hermione's. Her warm breath tickled his cheek and he found himself smiling at the feeling. He held her, one arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees, and carefully pulled her into his lap so that she was sitting between his outstretched legs. She leaned against him, resting her head snuggly in the curve his neck. Smiling, he breathed in her wonderful scent, the scent he came to love and recognize effortlessly over the years and wrapped his arms protectively around her still frame. He didn't realize how small she was until now and how perfectly she fit against him like this but he loved it. Leaning down, he brushed his lips lightly against her ears.

"I love you, Hermione." he murmured.

One of her hands found his and she brought it to her lips, kissing his rough, calloused fingers softly. "I love you, Ron."

A/N: So? Liked it? Didn't like it? Constructive criticism is appreciated. Tell me what you think:)