Chapter One

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Oddly, not even the title. The title is from a song called The Weakness in Me from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You. It's sung by Joan Armatrading(I think that's her name). But this is not a songfic. Okay? Okay.

Spoilers: I suppose you could say up to OotP, but there are no major ones.

Warnings: Maybe a little bit of smoochie smoochie, but nothing graphic.

Ships: Seamus/Hermione, Ron/Hermione

Time: Ron and Hermione's sixth year.

Author's note: This is my first EVER multi - chapter fic. And you are probably thinking, "Well that's not a big deal . . .", it is to me! I never write anything other than one-shots. So give me some credit, even if it is for trying. The chapters are kinda short and it's probably only going to be 3 chapters(4 chapters max), but I'll make sure I get them posted fairly quickly. Anyway, I'll shut up so you can read it. Okay, really I'm done. Oh yeah, this is Hermione's point of view through out the whole story.

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Let me just say, I'm not like most other girls. I don't giggle, I don't really care about my looks, I don't read romance novels, and I definitely don't fall in "love" every week. I enjoy a good joke, though, and certain books suit me just fine. It's just some things, like "love," I don't know, and don't do. Sure, there have been a few boys, but they haven't been. What do Lavender and Parvati call it? The "one."

"The Cannons! What has Ron done to ya, mate? What about Ireland?"

That's him, Seamus Finnigan, current "boyfriend" of five months. He's sweet, caring, kind of puppy-ish and I care about him. Honestly, who wouldn't after "going" out with him for almost half a year and knowing him for much longer than that. But there's something about it that I just don't know. "Love?" I'll have to get back to you on that.

"Mione, you okay?"

I realize I'm staring at the fire in a dazed way, and look up, "Yeah, Ron, I'm fine."

And that's him, Ron Weasley, best friend of six years and creator of angry and confused feelings. He's loyal, hilarious, sometimes a major git and I care about him, too. But there's something different. Something I've been trying to figure out since first year. "Love?" Gads, let's hope not(he's my best friend!)

He smiles at me and I go back thinking, muttering under my breath, "Just fine . . ."

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"Ron, what's the matter?"

I came down to breakfast the next day to find Ron looking towards the girl's dormitory stairs angrily. When he saw me, though, he snorted and turned away. Did we have a row? I don't remember one. Is it getting that bad that I don't even remember when we have one?

"Ron, what's the matter?"

This time, he turned his head sharply towards me and held up a piece of parchment that looked like it had been crumpled up, un-crumpled, and already read many times.

"'Dear Herm-own-ninny,

It's wonderful to hear from you again, and so soon. Mother says you're welcome to come and stay this summer, as I've offered you many times. I hope you come this time.

What are you going to do about that Weasley? I can't understand why he thinks he has the right to control whom you write to, either. He was always strange, wasn't he?

If he does not understand our relationship then I don't think you should communicate with him anymore, '"

He turns and looks at me; his face is already quite red and he looks like he's about to explode any moment. He sneers and says, "'Your relationship?'"

"Ron, what is that?"

He completely ignores me and starts reading again.

"'He could be dangerous. Especially if he's in the league with that Potter.

Best of luck with it and please consider my advice. I hope to hear from you soon again.

Love from,

Viktor."

At the signature, my hand flew to my mouth. I look at Ron, shocked, and said "Viktor?"

Once again, he seems to ignore me, and gets to his feet, "You were writing to Vicki--"

"Of course why wouldn't--" I said, tilting my head back to look him in the eye.

"--About me? Hermione, I can't believe you! He sounds like Percy! Talking about Harry and me like we're some crazy ax murderers. Or worse, Death Eaters!"

"He's right, though. You have no right to tell me who I write to-"

"Well, after this I think I should! If I hadn't read this then--"

It finally hits me. He read my mail. He read MY letter.

"Ron! You know what, I can't believe you! You read MY letter. Yes, MINE. He wrote it to me. You invaded my privacy, and acted like it was written to you. Well, it wasn't. I gotta go, Ron!"

I stormed out of the portrait hole, ignoring the stares from the few people who were in the Common room. Forget breakfast, I'm heading straight to the library. At least there I can get some real peace.

Author's little note: Ok, I'll get the next chapter up . . . if . . . you guys can help me out and get atleast 10 reviews. Do you think you could? Please? I'll give you something . . . my LIVER! Wait, do I need that . . . ?