Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own any of these characters, nor should I be playing JK Rowling and trying to get inside these characters' heads. So please, don't sue me?

An atmosphere of excitement inhabited Hogwarts; it was February 14---Valentine's Day. The hooting and squawking of owls announced that the mail had arrived.

"Hey, look at this!" Hermione shoved the Daily Prophet toward Ron and Harry. "'Gilderoy Lockhart was spotted, though trying to disguise himself with a hooded cloak, groveling for money at the Leaky Cauldron.''

"Ha, that old prat hasn't changed a bit," Ron snorted, examining the picture.

"I can't believe I fancied him," sighed Hermione.

"Oh, so now you admit it!" Harry batted his eyelashes and giggled, "Oh, Professor Lockhart, you're so handsome!" Ron wrote Mrs. Hermione Lockhart on his Divination assignment and decorated it with hearts.

"Oh, shut up you two."

"Oooo, what's that?" Ron teased, pointing at the sickeningly pink envelope on the table.

Hermione delicately opened the parcel and retrieved the heart-shaped parchment that was inside.

"A valentine!" Harry laughed.

"I bet it's from Viktor," Ron taunted in his best impression of a girl's voice. Hermione blushed and began to silently read it. Her eyes grew wide, sparkling with delight. Just then, a pale hand snatched the letter away.

"So, our vile little hag's got a valentine." The usual sneer resided on Malfoy's face. "Did you send it to yourself?"

Hermione frantically tried to grab hold of it. Ron abruptly stood, slamming his hands on the table.

"I don't supposed you got one," Harry hissed.

"As a matter of fact, Potter, I did."

"Then you can shove it up your arse," Ron interjected.

Draco's eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk formed on his even nastier visage. "Look here, everyone!" he shouted. Every pair of eyes turned to look at the Gryffindor table. "This mudblood's received a love letter for Valentine's Day. Shall I read it?" The room remained silent, except for the Slytherins' jeers. "Very well, then."

Harry attempted one last time to snag the paper, as Hermione looked helplessly at Ron. Malfoy cleared his throat and began, "Roses are red; violets are blue. This is quite unoriginal and a bit corny, too." There were a few snickers. "But, I thought you should know, when you're around, my heart skips a beat or two. Oh, dearest Hermione, I really like you."

The room burst into laughter, and Malfoy nearly doubled over. "Who on Earth would like you?! Who sent it? You, Potter? Longbottom? No? Well, then, it must've been that stupid git, Kr-..."

"They didn't send it," Ron interrupted. "I did." The Hall once again fell silent. Even Harry was at a loss for words. At the sight of Hermione's face, Ron quickly added, "It was a joke."

"Everything's a joke to you!" she raged. She picked up her goblet and heaved its contents at Ron, soiling the front of his robes. Draco let out a laugh, but Hermione silenced him with a slap, and fled from the Great Hall.

The Slytherin quickly recovered and spat, "Weasley's got a girlfriend. You haven't even been together for 10 seconds, and she's already dumped you...probably thinks a troll like you is too good for her!"

Ron lunged over the table, spilling pumpkin juice and squashing sandwiches, took hold of Malfoy's robes, and slammed him to the floor. Crabbe and Goyle seized Harry's arm, holding him back, while everyone chanted: "Fight! Fight!"

"That will be quite enough!" shrieked McGonagall. "Mr. Weasley, on your feet, NOW! Five points from Gryffindor for unnecessary violence! And, five more points from you, Mr. Potter, for not stopping him! As for you, Mr. Malfoy, 15 points will be taken from Slytherin for your foul mouth and lack of a heart! Five points from both of you," she glared at Crabbe and Goyle, "for laughing! If this ever happens again, you will be scrubbing each and every one of these plates and utensils spotless with nothing but elbow grease! Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes," the group of fifth-years grumbled.

"Now," she barked, "apologize to one another!"

"Fine. Sorry, cadger." McGonagall gasped and took Malfoy boy the arm. She dragged him out of the Hall, babbling about detention, Crabbe and Goyle in tow, as the students began to laugh.

Ron and Harry gaped at each other in utter shock.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed, as the two slapped five. All too soon, the smile dissipated from Ron's face. "Hermione..." He raced out the grand doors, leaving Harry to help clean up the mess.

Ron searched the Gryffindor common room, the library, and even asked Hagrid if he'd seen Hermione, but he found no sign of her. As he walked up the hill to the castle, he glanced over at the Quidditch Pitch. He could vaguely see someone sitting in the stands. He jogged over to the field, and sure enough, that someone was Hermione. Ron climbed a flight of stairs leading to the bleachers.

Hermione jumped at the sound of his footsteps. She could recognize his gait anywhere. Wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her robe, she heard him sit next to her.

"Go away," she sniveled.

"I came to repent. So, I'm sorry."

"I'd expect something like this from Fred or George or even Malfoy, but not from," her sob drowned out the word 'you'.

"It wasn't a joke," Ron muttered.

"Stop it!"

"It wasn't a joke, honestly. You're my best friend, well, except for Harry. I suppose I love you both in that friendship kind of way, but...I guess I'm sort of rather fond of you." Ron felt his face grow unbearably warm, and imagined that it matched the color of his Quidditch robes.

Hermione noticed this and laughed, "You're serious..." Ron produced a feeble smile. "I was sincerely beginning to believe that you only saw me as paltry little tag along...that you didn't like me."

"I thought I didn't, at first. But, then, you turned out to be wonderful, although, I did despise you for a bit during third year. I planned to never speak to you again. Sorry 'bout that. I made an assumption...a stupid one."

"We were thirteen, Ron. I like to think we've matured, and that's all behind us." She timidly reached for his hand, taking it in hers. "You're an awful poet." They shared an ardent laugh. "But it was sweet of you to try."

"I had some help from Ginny. Though, I ended up trashing all her work. It was too mushy."

"What's wrong with that?" Ron gulped, finally noticing that his hand rested in her lap.

"Well, I'm not full-blown in love with you..." Hermione frowned slightly at his words. "Yet."

Hermione giggled girlishly, exposing a side of herself that Ron had never seen. "Can I kiss you?" he sputtered suddenly. He mentally kicked himself for thinking out loud.

"Um, well..." Hermione was as dumbfounded as he was. "Ron, I'm not ready to...you know...for us to be...you know...like that."

"Oh, yeah, I understand completely," Ron squeaked. Hermione exploded with laughter.

"You're a mess, Ron. Really. It's flattering." He grimaced. This was all going to Hell. They sat in silence, absentmindedly entwining their fingers. Suddenly, Hermione placed a kiss on Ron's cheek and said, "We'd better get back to class."

"Okay," Ron agreed, but then remarked, "You didn't really say yes or no..."

Hermione studied his eyes for a moment, absorbing their veracity, then found her gaze resting upon his lips. So many times she'd perused his features, ardently suppressing the urge to run her hands through his glorious red hair.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" She stifled his concern with a kiss. The shiver that the contact sent down her spine caused her to evanesce in Ron's arms. After an euphoric moment, they forced themselves apart.

"We can't do this, Ron," she said almost inaudibly.

"I know..."

"Please, let's just go back..." They hastily returned to the school, just as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang. Hermione reassuringly squeezed Ron's hand as they approached the dungeons where they were to suffer Snape's wrath.

"I lov-..." Ron began, but Hermione placed a finger to his lips.

"Tell me under the stars..." She strolled into the classroom, and Ron followed, fervently awaiting nightfall.