Author's Note: I plan to re write this entire fic (all four chapters) simply because it sticks.

Disclaimer: Of course, I own nothing for without the wonderful workings of J.K. Rowling, this plot, theses characters and the story itself would not exsist. This is for pure entertainment's sake.

Chapter One

Lost in Thought

Dropping his head back onto his pillow, Ron sighed. It was yet another beautiful summer day and instead of being outside playing Qudditch, or even de-gnoming the garden as his mother had asked him to, he was lying on his bed. He'd spent practically the whole summer inside, either confining himself to his room, or playing chess with Ginny. He preferred it this way. Playing chess didn't require him to speak, and when he was in his room, he didn't have to deal with anyone. When he was alone, he didn't have to talk to anyone about 'it', which was really the last thing that he wanted to do. His family? No, they were all too busy with their own lives and his parents were going through enough with traveling back and forth to the Order. Truthfully, Ron was rather glad that he and his family weren't living at Number 12 Grimmauld Place again this summer. He wouldn't be able to walk around that house after what had happened with Sirius. Without it's owner, the house just wouldn't feel the same.

Then again, living at Grimmauld Place would most likely mean that Harry and Hermione would be living with them as well. Although Ron would love to see his two best friends, he wasn't quite sure whether or not he would like living with them just yet. It wasn't the fact that he didn't want to see them, but Ron just didn't think that he could handle seeing Harry. He knew it sounded rather selfish, but he was pretty sure Harry was feeling the same way about him. He felt so sorry for him, and completely hopeless because he couldn't do anything about the pain he knew his best friend was feeling. He'd seemed much better when they'd parted, but Ron doubted that he was still all right. With all his free time, Harry must be dying on the inside. Ron knew what it was like to have nothing to do to take your mind off things and he also knew that Harry was having one hundred times worse of a summer than he was. Living with those awful Muggles must be hard enough, but day after day having to cope with the fact that his Godfather was gone must be unbearable. First his parents died, and now this? How the bloody hell could he live with it?

And Hermione? Normally it would have been much easier for Ron to talk to her about something like this, but now he knew that things would be different. Of course, they had a good enough friendship to be able to talk to each other, but it was different now. He knew it wasn't the same way with Hermione, but for him, their whole relationship had changed. All summer he had been thinking back to that night in the Ministry, where it had all started.

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Ron crawled across the cold, dirty floor of the room, looking for his sister and his friends so that he could show them the tank of brains again.

"Loony!" He called, starting to giggle again, "Loony Lovegood, where are you?"

He continued to pull himself across the floor, as he approached the shadowed area in front of him. Ahead he could see a dark shape lying on the floor, but couldn't quite make out what it was.

"What is that?" he said as the giggles continued.

As he crawled closer, he could tell that the thing was a body. He pulled up to the body, but couldn't quite see who or what it was. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, there was no mistake as to who was sprawled out in front of him. The remains of whatever spell that had hit him vanished. He was no longer laughing.

"Hermione!" he groaned.

He pushed away a piece of her bushy hair to reveal her pale, cold face. He gently shook her shoulders trying to rouse her.

"Hermione!" he kept shouting, "Hermione please wake up!"

He knew it was no use. It was obvious that she had been hit by some type of curse and was now unconscious. He felt a searing pain in his heart, as she remained immobilized. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him, but his face was uncomfortably hot, there was a large lump in his throat and he could hardly breathe. The only other time he could ever remember feeling even half like this was almost three years ago, when the basilisk had petrified Hermione.

That was when it finally hit him. He, Ron Weasley was in love with Hermione Granger, one of his best friends. For some reason, he knew that he had felt this way for a long time, but he had never quite admitted it to himself. But as he kneeled there next to her unconscious body, he knew that it was true and he knew that when she woke up he had to tell her how he felt.

That he loved her.

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Of course, Ron had never told her. He'd never even come close to doing so. Every time he had approached her, he would just start talking about Harry, and he knew that was a topic that they could have a long conversation about. After the school year had ended, he'd tried what felt like hundreds of times to write his feelings for her in a letter. Only it turned out he wasn't the romantic type. His head turned towards the wastebasket next to his desk, which was filled to the rim with his pathetic attempts at love letters. He'd tried the casual approach 'Dear Hermione, there's something I've been meaning to tell you.' Then he'd tried more of a romantic method 'Dearest Hermione…' but as soon as he'd tried that one, he crumpled it up and tossed it in the basket. No matter how many different ways he'd tried to write it out, the words never seemed right, or good enough for her. He knew that the whole thing was pointless.

Ron groaned. How could he have done this? How could he have fallen for his best friend? As if things weren't bad enough already, he had to make it even more confusing. But he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. There wasn't anyway he could change his feelings for her.

The smell of frying bacon rose into his room. Perhaps a few sandwiches would be able to take his mind off things. Ron slowly rolled off of his bed and was about to leave when he heard a quiet tapping behind him. Turning around, he found his owl Pig fluttering outside. Ron opened the window to let him inside. The tiny owl dropped a letter on his bed and continued to buzz excitedly around the room. Pig was obviously very proud of himself for delivering a letter. Ignoring the annoying bird, Ron tore open the parchment and sat down to read it. His heart gave a small leap as he recognized the tidy scrawl.

"Ron-

Sorry it's taken so long to reply to your last letter. Things seem to be so hectic around here, although not much is going on. It's a bit ironic, really.I try my hardest, but no matter what I can't stop thinking about that night in the Ministry and I spend most of my time worrying about Harry, although that's nothing strange for either of us. I'm eager for someone to talk to, but I kept my promise to Dumbledore about not telling my parents. He's right; they would be much too worried for me. They think that the wizard world is dangerous enough and I can't imagine what they would think when they found out the most powerful Dark wizard was out on the loose. I hope that when I arrive there, things between us won't be as awkward as they are in our letters. Don't try to deny it; you know that it's true. I'm sure Ginny has already told you that she has invited me to spend the rest of the summer with you and your family. My parents have agreed to it and I should be arriving in a few days- five to be exact. I do hope that we will be able to talk when I get there. I may still want to, but I can't keep that night trapped in my mind, and neither can you.

Love,

Hermione"

Ron finished the letter with a look of uttermost shock. Hermione was coming the Burrow in only five days? The girl he had been thinking of all summer was waiting anxiously to see him and to talk to him. He couldn't believe it. Skimming through the letter he saw 'I'm sure Ginny has already told you…' and his shock quickly turned to anger and he leaped out of his chair and ran downstairs, the letter still clutched in his hand.

"Ginny!" he bellowed as he stormed into the kitchen.

"What?" she asked as she turned around from the table "I didn't do anything!" she added as a reflex.

"You didn't do anything, eh? Why didn't you tell me you invited Hermione over here? I had to find out from her!" he roared, as he shook the letter in his hand.

Ginny just stared at him. "God, I didn't know I had to check with you before I invited my friends over!"

"She's my friend Ginny!" Ron yelled, his ears beginning to turn pink from his boiling anger.

Mrs. Weasley turned from the stove to stare at Ron as well. "Ron what is going on? You've been acting oddly enough all summer, but now you're just being over-dramatic."

Fred and George, who had been listening in the other room, walked in.

"I know what it is mum." George said as he leaned against the doorway, clearly amused by the scene.

"Well?" said Mrs. Weasley impatiently.

"It looks like ickle Ronniekins has a little crush!" Fred teased in a baby voice.

"I do not!" Ron yelled as his cheeks burning bright red, "I'd just like to know more than five days ahead when my friends are coming over!"

"Why, so you can fix your hair?" George asked.

"Shut up!" Ron yelled, and forgetting about lunch, ran back up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door as loudly as it would allow attempting to make a statement, although he wasn't sure whether or not his family would hear it all the way in the kitchen. He slid down onto the ground and began to continuously bang the back of his head against the door, but soon regretted it once it began to throb.