In sixth year Ron attmepts to write a love letter. He's so sweet ;)

Disclamier: Yeah, don't own HP.

Dear Hermione

Wow... I don't know how to do this. It's really my first time. Well, you've known me since first year and you know how bad I am with feelings. You know. And expressing them and stuff. Here goes.

You probably don't feel the same way either. I mean- you're YOU! Smart. Beautiful. Much more as well. And you're always telling me off, so... Yeah, I get it, you don't return my feelings. But I have to tell you. If I deliver this. Which I won't. Probably.

Okay. Awkward. Let's get this over with.

I love your eyes. I'll start with that. Seriously, it's no wonder I can't meet your eyes when I'm guilty. They are the most amazing deep brown colour. I keep trying to place it. (Chocolate? Conkers? can't find a match) That's what I was doing all last History of Magic lesson when you got mad at me for not focusing and then told me off for staring at you and got all self conscious! You thought you had something on your face. It was strangely adorable.

So anyway, it's like every time you look at me my blood pounds and I can just feel the heat creep up my neck. Surely you've noticed.

Then there's your hair! Wow... again. I hate it when you try and flatten it and you obviously get embarrassed by it. But it's amazing- so full of life! I have to hold back the impulse to touch it! It suits you so much... wild hair and a passionate personality. It's Hermione hair.

Seriously, it's another reason I can't focus in class. Especially when you sit in front of me and I just watch the way each strand catches the light and the little gold bits in the lovely brown.

And you're smart too. Of course you're smart! The brightest witch of our age! You're the smartest girl in our year. Not just Harry thinks that. But you only seem to take it as a compliment when he says it. It drives me mad.

Yeah, smartness - just add it to the list of reasons you're out of my league.

You should help me with my homework every time. When you're glowering at me and trying to make me hurry up I keep looking at the little crease that appears when you frown. It's so distracting. But when you help me it's great. I can almost focus then. What better way to memorise notes then to hear then in your voice?

And I know that you think because you're smart you're unattractive. I can see it in your eyes. That's complete rubbish. I'd use a ruder word. It deserves a ruder word. But you don't like it when I swear. That's why this letter is full of crossing out. Sorry.

Your smile's lovely too! I spend so much of my time trying to make you laugh. When you do laugh it makes me so happy. You make my day, I figure I should try and make yours. But you get angry so much instead. All my jokes seem to fall wrong. I don't mean to offend you. Yet still you smile at everyone before you'll smile at me. And I try so hard.

You'll be mad at me already, for this letter. And embarrassed. But I really had to write it. So if I'm stupid enough to give it to you in the end I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me too long. I can't go for so long without seeing you- talking to you.

I'll just carry on as normal and let you pretend I don't like you. You don't have to feel awkward. Please don't hate me.

I just had to tell you, in so many words, what I fail to tell you every day. And I'm supposed to be a courageous Gryffindor.

So really I just want to say that every moment with you is precious to me, and all your little habits make me turn to jelly. And I know you must be so frustrated with me answering everything you say like a moron. At least you know why now. And when I'm annoyed with you I'm really more annoyed at myself. But I won't- I can't- admit that to your face. Really I should just listen to you. But it's hard.

So I've said it, I think. I hope you got some meaning from all that. It doesn't make much sense even to me. I don't have your way with words. And I can't write essays or letters, so you won't like the way it's structured or written. Anyway, better say it now:

I love you.

There, done. Those words look odd down on paper. I haven't really had a chance to officially tell myself that. It's hard to get my head around how I feel for you. Sorry.

I hope I don't give this to you. It's embarrassing. You'll hate me for it. Maybe I should just chuck it out now. I'd chicken out of handing it to you if I were still sane. I don't think I am though. I can't tell if I'm sane anymore. Do crazy people question it?

Just please please don't be too mad. I can't live without you smile, you laugh, your slender fingers, your voice, your cheeks, your eyelashes- every one of them- and your handwriting, your glares- everything. I can't list it all.

I love you (it's easier to say the second time)

Ron Weasley.

...

Minerva put down the letter and blinked in surprise. Well, that was certainly not what Ron had meant to hand in to her on the stack of Transfiguration essays. She probably shouldn't have read it, but she couldn't help it. She got so curious about her students, and she'd wanted Ron and Hermione to get together for a while now. She felt a strange motherly pride when she read the letter. Ron could really be quite sweet.

She pulled her spectacles back on and paced to the window. It was fairly dark outside. But she felt the need to talk to Ron.

"Snickety," Minerva called the house elf that catered for her. The elf appeared and gave a short bow. Minerva smiled. She was fond of Snickety and his wife, who was the elf for Pomona Sprout.

"I need you to fetch Mr Weasley please, Ronald Weasley. Tell him to come to my office. He should just be finishing dinner in the Great Hall." She had taken dinner in her room that evening. The stunning spells that had hit her last year hadn't left her in the best state. And there were still evenings when she needed rest.

Snickety bowed again and squeaked "Of course." And was gone.

Minerva rattled her biscuit tin and was pleased to hear the ginger newts sliding around inside. She liked to let the students have some when she wasn't telling them off, it put them more at ease. And Ron was never full, so he'd be happy for more to eat.

After a few minutes there was a nervous tapping at her door.

"Come in," She called and Ron burst in.

"It was probably Fred and George, it wasn't me! I swear!" He burst out as soon as he entered.

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"You are not here to be told off Mr Weasley. Have a biscuit." She held out the tin and he happily grabbed three, shoving one in his mouth and holding one in each hand.

Minerva didn't know if she wanted to laugh or snap at him to slow down before he choked.

"Did you hand in your Transfiguration essay this afternoon?" she asked. Ron nodded happily.

"Yeah- yeah of course."

"Because I think you made a mistake. You handed in something else." Ron froze midchew and she averted her gaze from his open mouth displaying chewed up food.

She looked instead to her desk and held out the letter. Ron's eyes were wide with horror as he took the letter in a shaking hand.

"You didn't- you didn't read it!" He gabbled.

"I cannot pretend I did not begin Mr Weasley. I was expecting the essay and I confess I did not think things through. Marking can be rather tedious."

He went rapidly red, the heat creeping up his neck and ears before inflaming his face.

"I- I- please. Don't tell anyone." He stammered.

"Of course not." Minerva inclined her head. "I wouldn't betray your confidence."

Ron looked faintly relived and a little stunned.

"Hermione is a lovely girl, Ron." She saw that he'd taken notice of her use of his first name, and the softer tone of voice. "And I don't think she would consider the letter foolish in the least."

Ron swallowed his biscuit and crumpled the letter in his hand, dropping the rest of his ginger newts on her desk.

"Yeah- yeah but, even so I..." He trailed off sheepishly.

"I understand." She smiled at him and he jumped a little in shock. He obviously wasn't used to her being so understanding. The thought amused her and her smile widened.

"I wish you luck Ron. And don't feel discouraged. Miss Granger is not blind. She will have noticed you."

"Yeah well- she thinks I'm an idiot doesn't she? Thanks McGon- Professor. Can I go now?" Minerva nodded. There wasn't much more she could do.

But she hoped beyond hope that Ron would one day tell Hermione how he felt. They would be a lovely couple. And there was the added bonus of her 10 Galleon bet with Severus.

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