To say that what Hermione had found awaiting her in that letter surprised her, would have been like saying the magical world was a bit behind the times. She was flummoxed, flabbergasted, and strangely completely and utterly embarrassed. And this was only the most recent of letters according to Harry. Before she even thought about it, she was kneeling in front of Harry's school trunk, digging through it. Finding the part with the loose lining, she pulled out another stack of letters, marveling that there had to be at least a hundred here.

Sneaking back to the guest room, she paused and frowned at seeing Harry slumped over in the chair, snoring away. Without another word, she pulled a blanket from his room, and covered him carefully with it, making sure to not disturb him. After she'd put the blanket around him, she carefully removed his glasses and set them gently on the table beside him. Once she'd finished, she picked up his letters, and paused. Here was the man that had professed his love to her so passionately, just inches away and hoping to have the courage to tell her. Biting her lower lip nervously, she felt her body moving of its own violation down, and towards the sleeping man.

Stopping just an inch short, she watched his sleeping face intently, wondering just how she could have been so blind to his love for so long. Yet a tiny part of her mind asked, had she really? She knew that he loved her, but she'd always thought it had been like he said as a sister and a friend. Leaning up she gently kissed his forehead, just to the right of that scar. As she retreated from the room, she wondered what she was going to do now.

Technically speaking, she was still with Ron, and he didn't deserve to be walked out on for his best friend, just because said friend had a long, undying love for her. And she could have sworn that Harry was interested in Ginny. She couldn't hurt her like that, could she? Instead of continuing that line of thinking, she decided to read the letters. Choosing the oldest one, she opened it carefully, and began reading.

Hermione,

You probly don't remember me from the train but my name is Harry Potter. I guess I just wanted to thank you for repairing my glasses, and to say that I think your amazing. If you don't mind would you mind tutaring me? I know you're probably asked this a lot but I hope you say yes and that we could be freinds.

I'm very glad that we're in the same house; I would have thought someone as brilliant as you should be in Ravenclaw though. Not saying your not brave, but just that Sorry about that, not used to quills yet. I was hoping you could be my freind, despite Ron being such a jerk. If so could we meet in the common room after supper sometime?

Harry.

Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile at Harry's misspellings and poor grammar. After the troll incident, she had really helped him to improve that, as well as his penmanship. It was so sweet that he wrote this note to her. And if she was honest with herself, she'd have jumped at the chance for a friend back then.

As she progressed through the letters, she found herself wondering just how blind she had been towards Harry's true feelings. Especially during fourth year, where they worked so close together, and yet he constantly brushed it all off as being close to Cho Chang. Such a convenient excuse, since Cho had actually been half-way stalking Harry for Cedric at the time.

He had written about the Yule Ball, not as the unmitigated disaster that it was. Instead he wrote of it as a beautiful and fanciful evening where they were alone on the dance floor, bathed in a moonlit spotlight that brought out the dancing emerald of his eyes. Shortly after the dance they shared an intimate candlelit dinner out on a balcony with the stars shimmering in the sky, and magic keeping them warm from the winter's chill. The sheer intimate nature of it all had her blushing from head to toe, and yet a smile lingered on her lips.

During that time between Sirius's and Dumbledore's deaths, Harry's letters took on a more pleading tone, acting like she was the one divine angel in a sea of demons threatening to drag him down. And then during the hunt for the Horcruxes, he wrote of the pain he felt being so near her, and yet unable to tell her for she was with Ron.

It made her wonder just how deeply he loved her, to put her supposed happiness with his best friend before his own. Tears stung her eyes when she lowered the second-to-latest letter. It had been right after Voldemort's defeat, before Harry had gone into seclusion. He had thought about pleading her to come with him, but couldn't for she was so happy with Ron.

So happy, was it? The constant bickering between them seemed right out of a bad comedy. She'd been so ready to end it entirely, but had long ago vowed never to make a permanent act while in a full rage mode. That was the main reason she and Ron hadn't broken up, because once she calmed down, he would apologize. Then the cycle would repeat itself. Harry had been caught up in the middle of that cycle that it almost seemed like they were playing tug-of-war with him. She wondered how he could possibly stand it.

Returning the envelopes to Harry's trunk, and the latest to the table under his glasses, she never noticed as a few strands of red hair drifted towards the ground lightly. While she was walking around, she wondered just why she kept going back to him. Could it be that she felt that no one else would have her? Maybe it was that, deep down, she feared being alone again, and so clung to the first serious boyfriend she'd ever had.

But... if Harry's words were true, she didn't have to fear being alone, just had to take the risk of being the first to speak. No more of the belittling of her intelligence by Ron, no more rage fueled silences because Ron had embarrassed her in front of everyone, no more caving in her wants and needs just to make Ron happy.

Sitting down on the bed in her room, she frowned and thought what it could be like with Harry. He'd always seemed to put others before himself, so it was likely that she would be infuriated with never doing anything that he wanted, but he had always seemed to enjoy letting someone else lead occasionally. And he was also famous, so anything they did would be public news, but he had these secluded retreats, and if they used the proper secret keepers, such as herself or Harry, they'd never have to fear about it getting to the wrong ears.

Pausing in her thoughts, she felt the gears strip in her mind, forcing them back onto Ron. He'd be utterly hopeless without someone. And she was the best one for the job. After all, only she, the brightest witch of the age could be smart enough to continue helping him... wait, what? That didn't take brains, but patience. Besides Harry needed her more, didn't he?

He was the one that grew up isolated and unloved. He was the one without an entire army of a family there to fall back on. So why was it so hard to find a reason to be with Harry instead of Ron?

Shaking her head, she briefly considered going to find Ron and asking him directly about these letters. But she hadn't actually gotten Harry's permission to read any of them, and then there was the fact that Ron probably didn't know about these letters if Hermione hadn't.

Besides, if she went to him about it, he'd just get mad, and start accusing her of wanting to leave him. Today she had been supposed to go with him to his mother's for a visit, but he had just so infuriated her with his antics that she stormed off to Harry's, only stopping briefly to pick up some groceries since she hadn't heard of him being spotted recently. So maybe she should just stay over and see if he talked to her about it.

Even still, she should still tell him about it, just so he could talk to Harry and help him to move on. Wait, what? He'd just get all jealous, angry, and most likely punch Harry right in the face. After he got mad at her. Why was her mind so torn about this? One side seemed to know it was right, but the facts supported the other side more. And to top it off, it was giving her a throbbing headache. So instead of continuing to think about it, she decided to lay down and get some sleep, since she'd been woken up in the middle of the night by Ron coming home drunk… again.

Really, he was so aggravating, why did she even start going out with him in the first place?! As her eyes closed, she wondered again if maybe being in Harry's arms would make her feel safer during the cold lonely nights…