What used to be

Dear Hermione,

You are my best friend. Ron is my best friend too, but he doesn't always understand. You really do understand. And you're amazing for that. I couldn't ask more of you. You're the most beautiful and amazing person I have ever met, and it's really stupid that I have to be writing all of this to you. You deserve better.

You're such an amazing person and I am no competition to that. This war has been going on for a while, and we're seventeen now, so I thought that I would write this and let you know. Seeing as how I could die any day now.

I know that you and Ron are happy, and that's partly why I'm not telling you this. I don't want to spoil that. You guys are great together, you really are, and I know that he likes you a lot. You probably won't ever understand this, and I will never ever blame you for that. By the time you read this I might be dead. So I just need to tell you now.

I love you Hermione Granger.

Goodbye,

Harry

The name at the end of the letter was blurred as a small tear drop landed onto it. The woman covered her mouth, closing her eyes as well. So her best friend had loved her. He had loved her for all those years and she had been blind to it, and now she was sitting here, crying. She felt stupid. And ignorant. She had always believed that she was intelligent, but she had been missing what had been right in front of her. The letter had been tucked into a photo album that had been stored in one of the numerous shelves around the house, gathering dust. It had been completely forgotten. The picture that it had been tucked in front of was a moving, smiling picture of three figures, around age eleven, waving happily to the camera.

I love you Hermione Granger.

Soft footsteps carried down the hall. The house was silent, except for those footsteps. "Hermione?" A voice asked. The woman did not turn around. "Hermione, are you alright?" The figure asked again, blind of her tears. He approached her, looking at what has in her hands. He smiled briefly.

"I remember that picture," he said fondly, picking up the book and kneeling down. "We look so happy as first years, all three of us, don't we?" The figure turned around to look at Hermione, noticing her tears. "Hermione, are you alright?" She nodded.

"C'mon, let's go," he said, gently laying the book down and taking her shoulders. She stood up, sobbing into his shoulder as they walked down the hall.

"I-I love you too," she whispered softly.

"What?" The figure asked, turning to his wife.

"Nothing," she said, looking into his eyes with her own tear filled ones, "It's nothing, Ron."

AN: Yeah, just a little oneshot I decided to write. Please R&R...