Too Late
A/n: I just found this – I must have written it ages ago…thought I'd post it anyway.
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this fic belong to me. Believe me, you'd know if they did. But they don't, unfortunately enough.
***
Dear Harry,
If anyone read this letter, they would wonder why I'm writing it, since there's no way you're going to read it. Call it therapy or something. I have to do this.
I really don't know from where to start. That's always been my problem hasn't it? If I hadn't been such a coward and so hopeless with words, I might have told you. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Remember when me and Hermoine had that little fling? I'm so glad I confided in you – it made it so much easier when I told you that Hermione was just a friend to me, and when she revealed to you that as a lover she preferred Krum, even if I was one of her dearest friends? I'm glad you told us – our friendship didn't suffer – if anything, it grew stronger.
And I remember. I remember you confiding your crush on Cho to me. But when you got over her, you never spoke about girls much.
And I used to wonder. Was it possible that you were more interested in guys? But then I'd shrug and think that more likely your emotional baggage was catching up with you and you had no time for love like that.
Looking back on it now, of course, I realize that I was a fool for not asking you straight out. At least…at least if I had asked…I wouldn't have this nagging doubt I still have now…
Because I wonder, Harry. Did you ever notice I never talked about girls after Hermione? I realized that I'd fallen badly for someone – but I never told you who. Guess why.
Because I'd fallen for you.
Yes. Incredible isn't it? I fell in love with my best friend. How more cliché can you get. But I couldn't tell you. How could I? I was so scared…scared to lose you, scared of the rejection I was sure I would get…
Looking back on it now, of course, I can see that we were too close for something like that to break us apart. At worst, we might have been a bit distant until I got over you. But we'd never have broken up.
And I still wonder Harry. Still wonder- what would you have said? Was there any hope for me? I wonder…I wonder all the time…
And what makes it worse is the fact that I can't ask you. Dead men keep their secrets.
What a fool I was to let opportunities slip by. Now I'll never know. Never know what it's like to feel your hair under my fingers, your lips on mine, the taste of your throat…
I'm sorry Harry. I should have tried. Forgive me.
And I'm sorry this paper is so smudged. It doesn't matter really, I guess, since you won't read it anyway, but I'm sorry I cried over it.
Please forgive me,
Ronald Weasley.
A/n: I just found this – I must have written it ages ago…thought I'd post it anyway.
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this fic belong to me. Believe me, you'd know if they did. But they don't, unfortunately enough.
***
Dear Harry,
If anyone read this letter, they would wonder why I'm writing it, since there's no way you're going to read it. Call it therapy or something. I have to do this.
I really don't know from where to start. That's always been my problem hasn't it? If I hadn't been such a coward and so hopeless with words, I might have told you. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Remember when me and Hermoine had that little fling? I'm so glad I confided in you – it made it so much easier when I told you that Hermione was just a friend to me, and when she revealed to you that as a lover she preferred Krum, even if I was one of her dearest friends? I'm glad you told us – our friendship didn't suffer – if anything, it grew stronger.
And I remember. I remember you confiding your crush on Cho to me. But when you got over her, you never spoke about girls much.
And I used to wonder. Was it possible that you were more interested in guys? But then I'd shrug and think that more likely your emotional baggage was catching up with you and you had no time for love like that.
Looking back on it now, of course, I realize that I was a fool for not asking you straight out. At least…at least if I had asked…I wouldn't have this nagging doubt I still have now…
Because I wonder, Harry. Did you ever notice I never talked about girls after Hermione? I realized that I'd fallen badly for someone – but I never told you who. Guess why.
Because I'd fallen for you.
Yes. Incredible isn't it? I fell in love with my best friend. How more cliché can you get. But I couldn't tell you. How could I? I was so scared…scared to lose you, scared of the rejection I was sure I would get…
Looking back on it now, of course, I can see that we were too close for something like that to break us apart. At worst, we might have been a bit distant until I got over you. But we'd never have broken up.
And I still wonder Harry. Still wonder- what would you have said? Was there any hope for me? I wonder…I wonder all the time…
And what makes it worse is the fact that I can't ask you. Dead men keep their secrets.
What a fool I was to let opportunities slip by. Now I'll never know. Never know what it's like to feel your hair under my fingers, your lips on mine, the taste of your throat…
I'm sorry Harry. I should have tried. Forgive me.
And I'm sorry this paper is so smudged. It doesn't matter really, I guess, since you won't read it anyway, but I'm sorry I cried over it.
Please forgive me,
Ronald Weasley.