Ron looked out over the small window to the flat above his and George's joke shop. It had been hard to finally move on and take Fred's job, but customers were pouring in, demanding Extendable Ears and the like.

The view from his window provided an excellent opportunity to watch the many witches and wizards who journed to Diagon Alley. This was his lunch hour; it was just around schooltime for the younger students and the few that weren't interested in Peruvian Darkness Powder were over at Flourish and Blotts across the way.

Every so often, his heart would speed up a little if he caught a glimpse of bushy brown hair weaving through the crowd, but he told himself that it was nothing important to worry about.

He turned back to his lunch, which consisted of a small sandwich. Suddenly he realized that he wasn't hungry, so he decided to take a walk instead.

Making his way through the busy street, he looked into the shops' windows, admiring items that he could now buy with the money that he had earned from the shop, and he vaguely remembered coming here as a child with Harry and the rest of his family... and her.

He had tried not to think about her as often as he had been; she was gone now, no longer a part of his life. She had found a successful job, and probably had already found a family. Still, friends could think about friends, right?

He wondered what she was up to these days... did she have a boyfriend? A house? He dared not think about anything else pertaining to the subject. It was hard, though, to not be reminded of how they used to eat ice cream at Florean Fortescue's as he walked past the shop now run by the former owner's nephew, or to remember looking through the window of Madam Malkin's, watching new Hogwarts students get measured for their first-ever set of robes. He angrily pushed the thought of her away for good and concentrated on how much fun he and Harry had shared.

On his way back to the flat, he passed a group of children. Two boys, gazing at a stunningly pretty brown-haired girl. The girl did not seem to notice the boys as they dreamily admired her. For some reason, this distrubed him slightly, and he hastily walked back to the entrance of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He figured he had about fifteen minutes left of his break.

On his way up the stairs to the flat, he noticed something fluttering under the air vent. He moved the couch aside with a flick of his wand and found a piece of paper, agitated by the constant flow of air taken into the vent. He bent down to pick it up. He returned the couch to its original position and took a look at the paper.

It's probably just an order form that's escaped from the lot downstairs, he thought.. But he decided to take a look at it anyway, might be a letter from the ministry ordering some more shield hats-

Then he saw the handwriting.

Inexplicably neat and tidy, inscripted exactly in a straight line across the page. Her.

August 14th

Dear Ron,

I doubt this letter will ever reach you, since its currently being held captive in my bedroom. I mean, it's a silly thing to write letters to people you'll probably never see again, right? But there's something I've been wanting to tell you, something that I should have said probably years ago to you.

I love you.

At this point he stopped reading. August 14th, that was just a few days ago! How did the letter get here, was this someone's idea of a joke? He wouldn't put it past George- but the handwriting gave it away.

No one could write exactly like her.

I love you a lot, really, probably more than you'll ever know (or to put it accurately, never

The handwriting became shaky.

I thought we'd be together, Ron, you and I, but I guess that changed when we went our separate ways after Hogwarts. I didn't know how to tell you how I felt after graduation, you just acted like you didn't care... about me, or anyone else, or anything that was going on in your life.

You've hurt me, Ronald Weasley.

I love you, even though this will never be seen by anyone but me,
Hermione Granger

Ron sat there for a long time. He reread the letter several times. He even ignored George's calls for him downstairs to come help with the shop. He just sat there, lost in thought.

First chapter... like I said, pretty fast-paced, but keep reading, it gets good... reviews welcome! Constructive critism appretiated, and it's only my first story anyway. Next chapter should be up in a day or two. Keep reading!