OMG, I'm such a good person right now (which is a big change from the norm, trust me)! This is one of my fav chapters, and did not AT ALL turn out the way I imagined it. Then again, I don't really know how I imagined it in the first place… It was just one of those things that had a mind of its own, you know? Do you? Good or not good, depending on your answer. Okay, without further ado…

*~ The Unofficial and Unheard Soundtrack ~*

*~ If It Kills Me ~ Jason Mraz ~*

Hermione,

First thing's first: If you're reading this, it should be a surprise. I don't intend to actually give it to you, and to be honest (for a change, I'll bet you're thinking), I really don't think I'll ever get a chance to. I might be dead, for all I know. I'm sorry if I am.

I bet you're wondering where and when I am – of course you are; you're always wondering about something – and so I'll tell you (for a change). I'm at Shell Cottage – the second time. We haven't been here that long, just short of a day. I can't sleep – none of us can – because I know if I do, I'll just hear you again.

That tore my heart in two, hearing you scream like that. I know it sounds sappy and so not me, but it's true. I mean, I feel horrible… for leaving like that. I don't know what was wrong with me (a lot, you'd say). I'm sorry, Hermione.

You looked horrible the last I saw – Fleur's keeping you in a spare room for the night, remember? – pale and really shaky, even laying down (which you nearly refused to do), but it's loads better than when we first got here – I'm sure you remember. We sat outside and watched Harry for a while, digging Dobby's makeshift grave by hand. It was depressing.

I'll be honest again: I was mad at him for a while. It was him who had to go and say You-Know-Who's name and get us captured by Snatchers in the first place – but don't worry, I'm over that. I just wanted to blame someone for your pain.

But back to Harry.

I'll admit it: I'm worried scared for him, as much as you are. This whole thing – killing You-Know-Who – looks about as possible as Fred and George passing up a chance to mess with Percy (the git). You and I both know he doubts himself – when doesn't he? Honestly, we both do. It's near impossible if Dumbledore couldn't do it. But if I had to pick one person (alive today) to get rid of You-Know-Who, it would be Harry. I trust him absolutely. Yeah, I know I was supposed to say you then.

I trust him with Ginny, too. It's just, I don't want her getting her hopes – or heart – up. There's such a big chance that Harry's gonna… die. It'll hurt her too badly. It'll hurt all of us.

Now, I think you're wondering why I'm telling you all this, revealing my deepest, darkest secrets and fears. Well, I really don't think I'm going to make it out of this war either. I'm sorry. It's just the way things are. There's another reason, though, a better one, I think.

I'm in love with you.

I don't know why things played out this way. They just did. I love how you always, always, always have to try to work something out logically for yourself. I love how you never give up when you have your heart set on something. I love how you notice things that no one else does. I love the way your eyes are always sparkling, and your smile, and your laugh, even that strand of hair that always falls in front of your face when you're bent over a book or an assignment, no matter how many times you try to tuck it behind your ear (yeah, I noticed that). I love everything about you.

You're not perfect. Nobody's perfect. I'm not perfect. Harry's not perfect. Dumbledore wasn't perfect. It bugs me when you keep nagging me and Harry to do our work or study when we have another two weeks to get it done. I hate how you call yourself a Mudblood so proudly (but it's awesome how you wear it like a title). I wish you could open your mind sometimes, and you really need to watch what you say and how you say it every now and then.

Still, it's all your flaws and quirks combined with all the little things that make you the goddess I love.

I know. I didn't think I could write something like that either.

I'm sorry I'm probably not there to answer all the questions you must have, so I'll keep going. If you're wondering (which you are, of course), the clock says that it's 2:42 in the morning, so I've officially been writing this letter to you for thirty-seven minutes (I can too do math!). It feels like a lot longer.

Now, about those questions.

Why do I love you?

I don't know. Forgive me for being so philosophical (yes, Ronnie does know big words), but I think it's just part of Fate's plan in this crazy game it's playing; we're just the pawns. Don't ever think of yourself as someone nobody can love Hermione, because it's the exact opposite. You're beautiful, and a genius, and you have a good sense of humor – most of the time (I hope to Merlin that now is one of those times). You're… amazing. I just wish I was there to be with you right now.

Next question.

When did I realize I love you? (I just know you too well.)

That's sort of a tough one to answer, and it's complicated. I'll start at the beginning… sort of.

When I saw you on Krum's arm at the Yule Ball, I thought I was going insane. There you were, looking absolutely stunning, your hair up all fancy-shmancy, your teeth all perfectly straight and just beaming, and I had a two second flash of Krum being me instead. It was so weird, and it kept happening all night long. Then it would go back to Krum, and I wished it was me making you so happy – even though we both know I can't dance (don't even try to defend me from the wedding. I stunk and you know it). That was when I first realized I liked you.

When I first realized I love you – that's a different story completely, and I didn't find out until recently. Very recently. Just a few hours, to be half-vague.

Hearing you like that, in so much pain… it was horrible. I know I shouldn't be complaining, I'm not the one who went through… that (look at me, I'm too chicken to even write it). The whole time, though, it was as much torture for Harry and me as it was for you. We were trapped, we were helpless, and we thought it was the end of the road for all of us. I'm sorry about that.

I don't know what else there is to say, Hermione. This letter is losing steam, and I'm getting tired. It's 3:21 now, and this has really helped. I might actually get some sleep tonight.

As I wrote before, the only way you'll ever be reading this is if I'm dead, so make me a few promises. It's not your fault, I know it's not. Don't beat yourself up about it. I'm sure I'll be missing you as much as you're missing me. Second, move on. Don't keep yourself waiting, thinking somebody as unattractive and repulsive as me is your only option. Be happy.

I'm going to give this to Bill to keep. I would give it to Harry, but you already know what I think about that. Bill won't leave Fleur – or Mum – like that. I'll tell him to give it to you if something happens. He'll understand. You know how he is.

I hope you never get a chance to read this, Hermione. Just know that I love you and always will. I just wanted you to know before it was too late.

I'll do anything for you, Hermione – even if it kills me.

Love,

Ron

Like I said, I just loved writing this one. Don't ask me why. This may or may not be AU; Ron could've really died in AU, and Hermione could be reading it. Or he could've gotten it from Bill and given it to her after the war was over. Take your pick, but this is Hermione reading it, one way or another. I'm going to post this really fast, and then I'm going to get the next chapter ASAP! It's actually finished for once!

Reviews are awesome, but whatever floats your boat.

XAPY-TZINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT
Long name, long story.