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Here's Chapter Two, you guys! Hope it's what you're expecting! Review! You guys can help me think of a title, if you'd like!

Chapter Two ::

The Plan

I got up very early this morning. We're supposed to be at the pitch at five, but I've been here since three. I run more laps they anyone cares too count. I push myself, for her. I'm not sure what lap I'm on when I hear a crunch on the ground. I spin around; it's Hermione.
"How long have you been out here?"
"I dunno, a couple of hours, I guess."
"Ron, why do you push yourself so hard? You're running on empty, I can't stand to see you like this. What's wrong?" Her concern made my heart break.
"I just want to be sure I know what I'm doing when I need it."
"Running until the end of the world and punching that bag Lupin hung in your room isn't going to help."
"They do."
"What?"
"Just trust me, they help." They numbed me, made me forget I could never have her. I back up a few steps and begin running again. I hear her feet fall just behind mine. If I keep my distance, I won't say or do anything stupid, which is good. I sped up, fighting the temptation to look back at her, to see where she was. I could still hear her footsteps, only a few long strides behind mine.

Finally, the dorm was empty; I could relieve the stress. I punched the white bag hard; I gave it everything I had. It numbed me; I couldn't feel a thing for a while. I must have been punching really hard, because I stopped when I saw the smeared crimson on the white of the punching bag.
"Oh fuck." I looked down at my bloodied knuckles; this was the third time this week. I normally go to the Hospital Wing and have them healed, but this time, I changed my mind. I wanted the scar there to remind myself of her, of why I couldn't have her. My stomach growled, and as always, I listened.

"Ron, what happened?" Harry asked. Hermione wasn't here yet.
"Same thing as always Harry."
"Why didn't you go have them healed?"
"Because. It's a reminder of what I can't have." Hermione sat down next to me.
"Ron! What happened to your hands?" She gently grabbed my hands and looked at them closely. I could tell her heart was breaking at the sight of them; her expression made an empty feeling in my stomach.
"Nothing. I just hit the bag a little too long."
"Oh Ron, why didn't you get them healed?" Harry looked at me, with a slight fear in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking. What am I going to tell her?
"I just, didn't want to. I've been there a lot, and I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey will owl my mum if I go back again." I was amazed at how easily my lie rolled off my lips.
"Oh nonsense!"
"Hermione, it's okay."
"Are you sure? It looks painful."
"I promise, I'm okay."
"If you're sure."

"Knight to E5. Check."
"Damn."
"Checkmate."
"You beat me... again. Damn, Ron."
"It's a gift."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"No."
"Ron... if you don't, I will."
"You wouldn't, Potter."
"Oh I would. You two need to stop running circles around each other and admit you fancy each other."
"'You two'?"
"She fancies you too."
"She does not."
"Ron, SHE BLOODY TOLD ME SHE DID!"
"No!"
"Shut up and tell her."
"I will in my own time."
"Before The War would be nice."
"Shut it!"
"Oh come on, just tell her."
"No. Harry, you are the daftest bloke alive... I told you; I can't."
"Okay, fine. I'll tell her for you." Harry wasn't kidding. I could see it in his eyes; he was dead serious.
"Fine. I'll tell her when we go to Hogsmeade."
"That's in like two months."
"Exactly."
"Fine. Tell her when we go then."
"I will. I just don't know how."
"I think I can help there." Ginny said, as she sat down in the empty seat next to Harry.
"How much of that did you hear?" I asked, squirming in my seat.
"Enough to deduce that you're madly in love with Hermione and won't tell her. But, I knew that ages ago. I knew that back in my First Year. It's obvious."
"Obvious?" I said, my voice cracking.
"More than obvious, mate." Harry said.
"Yes, big brother, more than obvious. The way you look at her, the way you always seem to talk about her, no matter the subject. It's rather cute."
"I do not always talk about her!"
"Yes you do."
"Do not."
"Ron, you do."
"Ginny, I don't."
"Harry, tell Ron he does."
"Your sister's right. You do."
"I DO NOT!"
"Ron, let me finish my statement. Have you stopped and noticed the way she is around you?"
"What?"
"Yeah. When you're not around, she talks about you nonstop." Ginny said.
"Are you kidding?"
"Nope. She always asks about you. I think she fancies you just as much as you fancy her."
"Really, mate. She's told me she fancies you."
"Fancying it one thing. Loving is another..."
"She might love you back, you never know."
"Harry, are you daft? She needs someone better."
"Who better than you, brother?"
"Someone smart, someone... not me."
"You're smart when you want to be, Ron. You know that. Look at the way you've been studying lately. You've learned everything you can because of The War; you push yourself. Who are you doing it for? Yourself?"
"Hermione."
"Exactly! Look what she does to you! Imagine if she knew you've been studying for her. She wouldn't be happy that you're running yourself ragged, into the ground, with training. She'd be impressed that you're doing something you hate for her."
"Yeah, right." I said. I knew deep down that they were right. Why wouldn't they be? She would be impressed that I'm actually studying. She'd be beyond impressed.
"Ron?"
"Oh, sorry, Gin. What did you say?"
"Do you want me to help you or not?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Gin."

We were alone, my sister and I, in the Common Room. We both decided to skip dinner to go about my plan in telling Hermione.

"What is it that you want to say?"
"That I love her. That she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, that I would move Heaven and Earth, sell my soul, go through Hell, give up everything, for her. That she is the only one I want. I want to tell her that I have always loved her and will never stop."
"Wow. Okay. Powerful emotion, there." Ginny's face was red at the depth of my emotion. And she said I was an emotionless prat.
"Well?"
"Let me think a minute. Maybe write her 'clues' in letters. I think she'd like that. Let me see, tonight. Okay?"
"See?"
"I'm going to ask her how she'd feel if she got a letter like that. I won't tell her a thing. Just trust me?"
"Okay. I trust you."
"You better, we're related."