What letter?

How dare he?

Fuming, she breathed heavily for a few minutes before thumping downstairs ready for some fresh air. Despite her earlier questioning over their relationship, his words angered and confused her.

How can he write all these things after not writing for such a long time? I love you with everything I have.

Three years!

Who did he think he was?

Not enough to tell her that when she'd needed to hear it. No, wait till I'm coming back to try and…what, stop things from being awkward? Or mess her around?

He couldn't mean all this, not after silence for so long, when both of them were in other relationships; he had to be… Regretful? Jealous? Just plain mean?

As she twisted down the spiral staircase, her furious mind rattled on; that man shamelessly abused his girlfriend's trust. I need you Hermione. His sheer arrogant immorality at telling her that whilst expecting a child with another woman sickened her. Vision blurred due to her running, she took a moment to register the man she almost ran into.

It was him.

She completely contrasted his surprise melting into indifference by slapping him full in the face. Shocked, he staggered backwards and his confusion fuelled the furnace. She interrupted his choking questions by bombarding him with the accusations bubbling inside her. Unaware of her rising shout, unaware of the man's utter bewilderment she stormed on until he found his voice.

"What the hell is this about?"

"The letter!" Both were left breathing heavily as he tried to catch up. All he managed was a confused noise. She repeated herself louder and he tried to think fast under pressure.

"What letter?" Her description of it didn't help, as Ron didn't consider the only letter that he had ever written to her as shameless and cold-hearted and…

"That letter!" Despite everything, he felt himself go red. "Is that what you mean?" Half relieved at being finally understood and half infuriated that it had took this long she went on.

"Yes! That letter, which is the single most disgusting-"

"What? Why did you hit me! Wha…?" He lost all words, rubbing his face as it tingled sharply. He was so bewildered, surely he hadn't written anything to deserve that quite painful slap… Hermione gladly steam rolled on with her complaints.

"Because you're such a, a slimy little bastard! Saying all of those things three years too late, when I'm with someone else and now especial-" He stopped her, rankled.

"Hey!" Her insults were making his stinging face intensify. "Get your facts straight! Three years too late?" But she wasn't listening.

"You should have told me those things instead of writing them down three years after I left the country, if they're even true! And I'm angry now because I've just read it!" Half-knowing what had happened he tried to explain, frustration stabbing the bubbles of hope rising within his chest.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you before you left, I thought…But," His brain suddenly highlighted him something she'd just said and it forced an edge into his voice. "What do you mean if they're true?"

"Well the fact that they've been said pretty recently-"

"Enough!" She stopped yelling immediately, sensing the change in the air faster than he did himself. "Why do you always assume the worst of me?" She screwed up her mouth as she tried to ignore that but he cut across her again. "Can't you believe that I actually meant those things? Why do you have such trouble believing I'm capable of emotion, of empathy, of anything other than being a bumbling idiot!" There was a near-silence, only their heavy breaths in the night. She stared at his face, and saw not only anger there but deep hurt, the kind she hadn't seen in years.

"Meant?" she whispered. He snorted and turned away, striding into the living room, she followed him haltingly, hating herself for her pleading tone. "Ron!" She entered the room to find him pacing, everything that they'd both felt at the end of their relationship was returning to them in waves. Her emotions paralysed her, so all she could do was watch him as a single word echoed in her mind. Meant?

"I have feelings too you know!" He said suddenly, and despite herself she nodded, seeing them. Seeing them so clearly on his face, his jaw set, eyes unmoving; in how he held himself head up, shoulders back, hands not in his pockets. She thought briefly that even when he'd been angry and indignant before, he'd never held himself as confidently as this. He stopped pacing and looked at her, right in the eye. "You know, after you left, I was miserable. I tried not to think about you, or us, or any of it." She didn't say anything, gulping and looking away, but listening, listening so closely. "Out of nowhere you leave, no note no nothing! I pluck up the courage to be honest where you couldn't be. I told you… I wrote everything that I was feeling, everything you did to me and…nothing. You want to doubt what I wrote then go ahead, assume what you want! But I meant every word and I will stick to them till the day I die." His voice dropped, as if regretting his words already. "Not everyone's a two-faced bitch." There was nothing in her mind, nothing she could think of to say, just, nothing. After a moment of silence, she looked up at him and saw him staring at her, waiting for eye contact. He held her for a second and then he walked out.

Stranded in the wake of an emotional whirlwind, Hermione stood alone in the middle of the room. Slowly, she turned, wondered from the room and climbed the stairs numbly. She couldn't even process what had been said. Just one word revolving in her head. Meant? She reached her room and picked up the discarded letter. Unwilling to read it again she shoved it in the envelope and put it in the drawer of the desk, shutting it firmly. Turning, she spotted the outside envelope on the bed. She picked that up too and was about to shut it in the drawer when she looked at the stamp.

4th October 2000.

It had been sent three years ago. Ron was telling the truth. She sat down and stared blindly at the date. He had really meant those things he said about missing her and feeling inadequate and… All those years ago he had needed her. Yearned for her. He hadn't told her when she'd needed him to, but, remembering the moment, she cringed as she realised that he had had no way of knowing. How could he have known? When he had realised, he'd sat down and organised his feelings into a written letter for her. He had contacted her, he had tried. He'd stick by those words forever. And all she had done was mope that she hadn't heard from him, not thinking that maybe she should write to him, unconsciously giving up on their relationship, letting go the one she truly loved.

Tears broke through her numbness. Finally, her feelings of being incomplete made sense, she realised, with hot tears arrowing down her face, that she still loved him. After all the hurt of the last time she had seen him and the long years of silence and other things to occupy her heart, she still loved him. All that time she'd spent not thinking about him or dating Walter, her hidden feelings had still clung on, maybe even strengthening because of her lack of recognition or attention. She still…

Nothing Walter or any other man could say or do could compare to how that red-haired man could make her feel. The sweet-nothings and poetic one-liners that her efficient boyfriend cooed in her ear couldn't tug at her heart half as much as her lost love's raw emotions written scruffily on the page. That letter made her feel… It made her head spin, her stomach turn and her heart ache. It was nothing like anything she had ever experienced during those three years. Slowly, she admitted it to herself. She hadn't moved on, she hadn't got over her feelings. How could she have moved on when she'd ignored everything to do with him?

Thinking back to earlier, she realised that he didn't need her anymore. He didn't feel those things anymore. He had a steady job, his own place and a beautiful girlfriend who was carrying his child. When she saw him with Melissa, she felt as jealous as when he had been with Lavender. But now he wasn't her Ron. Not anymore. He'd grown into a sensitive, confident man and she hadn't had any part of that. He'd done it without her. I need you.

Not anymore.

She cried harder, trying to stifle her sobs so as to remain undetected. For such a long time memories raced around her head, voices echoing, so loud it was as if the people who owned them were in the room.

Lavender, her old rival, giggling soppy phrases and cooing in her ear.

Ginny and Harry her true friends, sympathetic words.

Melissa, her new rival, joking and laughing.

It was a few hours into the next morning and she had never felt more tired. After a while she sniffed and wiped her face dry, she climbed into bed to beg sleep to take her.