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He didn't know what possessed him, didn't know what made him say it. For who ever would have thought that Ron Weasley, at barely nineteen-years-old, (his birthday had been three weeks previously) would even know what love truly is, let alone tell the very girl he had loved for so long that he, indeed, did love her. Who would have thought that it would be Ron Weasley, of all people, to say it so obviously, so bluntly and simply.

But he did. He just said three words to her, to Hermione.

"I love you."

I love you. Just three simple words. But they were far more magical than any spell either of them had ever uttered.

They were more dazzling than Expecto Patronum.

More illuminating than Lumos.

More astounding than Stupefy.

More compelling than Imperio.

More quenching than Aguamenti.

More silencing than Silencio.

More healing than Episkey.

More cleansing than Scourgify.

And sometimes even more dangerous than Avada Kedavra.

Or more painful than Crucio and Sectumsempra.

But not in this case. In this case, they were not dangerous. They were not painful. They were just beautiful. Beautiful and illuminating and astounding and compelling and quenching and silencing and healing and cleansing. At least for Ron.

Because telling Hermione that he loved her making sure that she knew it, reminded Ron of how true those words were. Of just how much he loved her

But as he looked at her, as he saw the shock that passed over her face, he was almost beginning to worry that perhaps Hermione did not feel the same way. Maybe this time the three magic words of "I love you" really were dangerous. Maybe they really were painful. Did Hermione not feel the same way? He had thought she did. Surely, she had not been in love with him as he had been in love with her since their second year, but he thought that by now she was.

They were outside on a beautiful grassy hill that they had both always adored. The night air was chilly and the moon nearly full.

He was not quite sure what to say. The situation was beginning to prove to be rather awkward, when all of a sudden, Hermione's dark brown eyes lit up and a smile of pure affection filled her face.

"I love you too, Ron." Her brown eyes danced in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, it took me quite a while to process what you had just said. I just couldn't believe . . . this is so wonderful, Ron! I have been waiting for this moment since we were children," she blushed a little, evidently thinking that Ron had not cared for her in that way during their Hogwarts years. How incredibly wrong she was.

"I love you," she whispered, once again. "I love you," she repeated the three magic words, this time a little louder.

Ron held her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, wishing to never have to let go.

He thought about the words. I love you.

They were just three words. Very simple words - they didn't seem like anything special at first glance. But they were.

And Ron Weasley felt that he had never experienced a spark of more true magic than when he said those words, and when Hermione responded with identical ones.

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