Chapter 1: Hermione's Letter
"Harry! Wake up!" Ron Weasley was leaning over Harry Potter's four-poster bed in the seventh year boys' dormitory of the Gryffindor tower.
It was Christmas morning and Ron was especially eager this year to open his gifts. After all, Hermione Granger would be sending him something
this year. The couple had been dating for a whole year by this time, and Hermione was all Ron ever thought about anymore. Everything about her, from
her bushy brown hair to her bookworm personality - Ron loved it all. He couldn't wait until she returned to Hogwarts at the end of the holidays. Neither
could Harry, for he was getting rather sick of Ron's constant moaning.
"What?" Harry asked groggily. He rolled over and saw a very distraught Ron looking over him. He grabbed his glasses off his bedside table and
sat up to face his freckled friend.
"It's not here!" Ron hissed, attempting to keep the other two boys in the dormitory asleep. His flaming red hair was ruffled and his eyes were
blood shot.
"Ron, what -"
"The letter! Hermione's letter! It's not here! I can't find it anywhere!"
"Oh! That's all?" Harry sighed, sitting back against the headboard.
"That's all?! Her letter's the only thing I have of her right now, Harry!! Don't you understand? If I can't find it, I won't have anything to remind
me of her until she gets back! I'll go insane! Help me find it!" Ron's veins were beginning to protrude from his forehead and his face was tear-stained.
"Ok, ok. Calm down. I'll help you find it. Don't have a cow," Harry stifled his laughter and forced out a reply. He stumbled out of bed and slid his
feet into his navy blue slippers. He and Ron quickly searched the small, circular dormitory before slipping into the common room. They spent two and half
hours looking for the letter until Ron remembered that he had left it in his robes the previous day.
"Harry! I found it!" Ron was ecstatic as he leapt down the spiraling staircase into the common room. Harry was sacked out on the sofa and
staring into the dying fire. He was extremely relieved when Ron announced that their search was indeed successful. "Oh good," he mumbled.
"I want to read it again. You won't mind, will you?"
"Of course not, Ron. Read away," Harry replied sarcastically.
"Great!" Ron slumped down in one of the cushy armchairs and began reciting Hermione's words:
"Dearest Ron,
I miss you so much and I wish you were here. I long to feel your tender touch upon my skin and I pine for you to whisper my name softly in the night. Oh Ron, how I love you. I only hope you love me as much, if not more! I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid I must go. I am expected to read a few chapters in my Transfiguration book before I return (and so are you). Write me as soon as you can!
All My Love,
Hermione"
Ron finished reading and let out a deep, heavy sigh. "Isn't she romantic?" he said.
"Er...yeah, Ron. Uh...no offense or anything, but wasn't she romantic the last twenty times you read it?" Harry said impatiently.
"Well, thanks a lot, Harry. I appreciate your support," Ron answered facetiously. He folded the letter and returned it to his pocket.
"Sorry. Can we open presents now?" Harry suggested, standing up and heading to the large Christmas tree in the corner.
"Sure," Ron replied, his spirits lifting slightly. He too stood up and joined Harry at the tree. They both kneeled in front of their own piles and began
to sort through them.
The two friends had quickly unwrapped their gifts and were sharing them with the other seventh year boys by the time seven o'clock rolled
around. Harry had received his annual sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from Hagrid, and a book with every
international Quidditch team in it from Hermione, among various other presents. Ron, of course, was admiring HIS gift from Hermione. She had sent him a
lovely golden ring with a heart and "H.G. + R.W." engraved in it, along with another love letter. He had snapped when Neville Longbottom and Dean
Thomas asked to see it, and began stroking it softly.
"Ron, I think you're officially obssessed," said Dean. He was munching on a chocolate frog and flipping through a Quidditch magazine.
"Whatever, Dean. You're just jealous," Ron replied shortly.
"Jealous?" Dean laughed, "Yeah, Ron, I'm jealous. Actually, I hope I never fall in love. I'd much rather keep my masculinity, thank you very much."
Neville Longbottom snorted and some of Harry's Bertie Bott's beans were sprayed across the floor. "Sorry, Ron. I just thought it was a little
funny," he said at the sight of Ron's expression.
"I say we head down to the Great Hall for breakfast! What about you guys?" Dean suggested.
"Sounds good to me," said Harry. They stood up, gathered their presents before dropping them off in their dormitory, and began walking
through the corridors toward the Great Hall. They entered through the large oak doors and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Taking their time and
talking about what they were going to do the rest of the time they had before the holidays were over, Harry, Ron, Dean, and Neville enjoyed their
scrumptious Christmas breakfast. When they had finished, they meandered back to Gryffindor tower and occupied themselves with their new gifts.
Despite Harry's wishes, Ron begged him to help write a love letter to send back to Hermione.
"Ron, you know I can't think of anything mushy. You asked me last time and I'm all burned out. I've got nothing left!"
"Oh, come on, Harry. It's not that hard! All you have to do is just say things you'd probably find in Witch Weekly. Please?" Ron begged.
"Oh, alright," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes quite obviously. They sat down at one of the round tables in the corner and began writing Ron's reply.
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