Dear Hermione,
Harry thinks that you're mad about this morning. I told him that I didn't mean to upset you, but he still thinks I should apologize. So I just wanted to let you know that I didn't mean to get you upset. I guess stress from the N.E.W.T.s and everything
I love you.
And where did you say you found this?"
"On the common room floor," Parvati squealed. "Right in front of the fire." She glared expectantly at Hermione.
"It was all crumpled up," Lavendar chimed. "And torn in a few places."
Hermione glanced at the parchment. "Yes, I can see that."
"Do you know what that means?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That somebody mussed it up a bit?"
"No," Parvati said slowly, exchanging a glance with Lavendar. "It means that somebody tried to get rid of it!"
"But they accidentally left it lying around," Lavendar added quickly.
"Oh, you don't say," Hermione muttered. Her words were dripping with sarcasm; Parvati and Lavendar were getting on her last nerve.
"Well," Parvati continued, not aware that Hermione had even spoken, "do we know anyone who would write a letter like this - "
" - And be stupid enough to leave it lying around?" Lavendar finished.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. What were they getting at?
"And who," Parvati went on, "has been showing curious signs of affection for Hermione these last few years?" Parvati giggled.
"Don't you get it Hermione?"
More giggles.
Hermione didn't know what to say.
"Hmm," Parvati sighed, "I think we'll have to let her figure this one out herself."
Hermione had had enough.
"Oh, give it a rest, would you?" Hermione snapped, grabbing the parchment from Parvati's hand. She stormed through the common room and out of Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione didn't know where she was going.... Right turn, left turn, left turn, right turn....
"Don't you get it, Hermione?" Lavendar's voice echoed in Hermione's ears.
Of course I get it, Hermione answered angrily. Of course I do.
She had recognized the handwriting right away, before she had even read the letter.
-----
Ron had been preoccupied all day.
Two voices inside his head - or were they in his head? His thoughts seemed too illogical to be coming from a properly functioning brain - had been arguing relentlessly.
Idiot, one voice said. Now you know what you have to do. What are you waiting around for?
She's too good for you, and you know it, cried the other voice.
But Ron didn't know which voice to listen to.
He didn't feel like he knew much of anything.
All he knew was that he had intended to write a letter to Hermione, explaining why he had been acting like such an ass lately, but had found himself writing something else.
I love you.
And it was only then that he realized.