Disclaimer: Again, I'm not J. K. Rowling. And I am not trying to be by writing this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Three.
Two Different Versions of a Relatively Similar Dream: Part Two-Hermione

Hermione awoke to someone gently kissing her forehead. She knew it was Ron - that was something that only he would do. So much emotion could be conveyed in one simple, innocent kiss.

She smiled at him, though her eyes remained closed. She wished they could stay in this embrace, this close proximity, for a long time. She wasn't thinking about forever yet.

"Good morning, beautiful," she heard him say.

"Good morning to you, too."

Silence. Comfortable silence was something that had been happening recently in their relationship. They knew each other well enough that they could have the best conversations when neither of them said a word.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked him after a while.

"Wonderfully. Except I had this wonky lump next to me. I wonder … whatever could it be?" He started poking her around the ribs.

"No! Stop!" She knew how ticklish she was. She knew he knew how ticklish she was, too. He always used it to get the better of her.

He always did something like that: say something completely endearing, then turn and be completely silly. She loved that about him. He always knew how to make her laugh.

When she'd finally surrendered to the feelings she knew had been coming for a long time, she knew that he was the only one she'd ever want to wake up next to.

Eventually, when she was almost in tears from laughing so hard, their laughter died away and they resorted to what they knew as second nature: kissing. It wasn't just kissing for the sake of kissing, it was more than that.

They took a break from each other and just lay in silence. Ron's arm was around her waist, and her head was resting comfortably on his shoulder. His hand was making its way lazily through her hair.

"I love you," she heard him whisper.

She sat up on her elbow and looked him directly in the face. "What?"

"I said I love you," Ron said simply.

Hermione stared blankly at him for a second or two before her brain reacted. She could feel tears brimming behind her eyes, but she was determined not to let them fall before she responded.

"I love you, too. So much," she said.

With that, Ron arched his neck up and captured her lips with his own. She was so filled with happiness that she wanted to cry yet again. The one person she'd ever felt this way about felt the same way about her. On some level, she supposed she'd known for a while, and that he was just working up the courage to say it and ensure a return, but hearing it for real was more beautiful than she ever could have imagined.

In the middle of what was quite possibly their most romantic kiss ever, Hermione had to pull away to wipe her tears. Ron's hand reached up and cupped her face, doing the job for her.

"Please tell me these are happy tears," he said, searching her face for a reason.

"The happiest tears ever," she said, a smile shining through her tears of joy.

"Good," he said, wiping her eyes gently with his thumb. He smiled and brought his face to hers for another kiss.

She smiled against his mouth and let him change their position. She let herself be rolled over so that she was practically on top of him, and then be rolled the opposite way to where he was suspended above her. Her hands roamed over his body, concentrating on his back. She knew he loved that. She smiled when he let out a low moan into her mouth. The removal of his shirt only made him moan more.

Hermione opened her eyes and saw the Gryffindor Common Room ceiling above her. Not Ron, just the high ceiling staring back at her.

She put her hand over her eyes and tried to remember how she could've come up with such a random topic to dream about. Alright, maybe not so random; she'd just been admiring Ron's physique, and how he had changed over the course of their friendship, last night. And being in such close proximity to him, as she was right now, always had a strange effect on her: butterflies, flustered speech, etc, but never fantasizing or dreaming about what it would be like to be with him, to kiss him.

Until now.

She looked to her left, and saw Ron asleep, facing away from her. She sighed, realized that he'd stolen her blanket, and tried to pinpoint exactly when it was that she'd developed full-on feelings for her best friend.