Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the folks at Hogwarts. I would like to own, Ron, though. I think that would make me a very happy person. Does anyone have a Ron they'd like to sell me? Please?

Warnings: This is a good clean chapter, nothing interesting going on, really. I don't know how this fic'll go, though. We'll take it chapter by chapter, does that sound alright, kids? Okay. I'll shut up about this now.

Author's notes: Well, like I said, this chapter is your standard introduction. It's written primarily through Ron's POV, as most of this fic will be. Well, read and enjoy, folks. Then tell me what you think. Pretty please? I love reviews. Yay!

Sincerely,
Me.

Chapter one: These letters to you

Not one letter. Not one single stinking bloody letter, the whole summer long. It wasn't as though she was his best friend. Not as though this was such a big time in her life, and he thought she would want to share it with him. Not as though she had promised to write when she got there.

Oh, wait. It was. It was all of those things. And still, not a single letter had come. No foreign looking owl had dropped a letter on the breakfast table, relating some adventure she had that day. No stories of getting lost in that big American city, no description of new people she had met, no feelings of homesickness or anything. She could be dead for all he knew.

Until today.

Today, a week before the start of their final year, Hermione's first owl dropped its load midst the Weasley breakfast. Ron had snatched it up immediately, then stolen off to his room to see what she had said.

But it wasn't a letter. It was barely a note.

"Ron!

New York has been amazing! Sorry I haven't written much. I'll be in Diagon Ally this Saturday, I hope to see you there! Love ya,

Hermione XOXO"

There was something off about it. The halted sentences were not her style. Somehow, her signature had lost some of its curl, now looking less girly and more... grown up. He would be in Diagon Ally that Saturday, too. There, he would meet her. And there, he would say his piece.

-----

"Ron! Harry! How are you two!" a familiar voice (though tinted with un-familiarity) called across a crowd. Harry waved excitedly, calling back to the last third of their unbreakable triad, while Ron scowled at a window. "Wow, it's good to see some familiar faces again. You wouldn't believe how big New York is! Oh we have to sit and talk about it! Ice cream sound good?" She talked quickly, her voice still sounding strange to him. The window retained his interest until he felt his arm being pulled. "Ron? Come on, we're going for ice cream!" He looked up at this strange voice into an even stranger face. Her hair was different. Smaller. Straighter. It was actually stick straight now, and Ron guessed that she had used a beauty spell on it. It was shorter, too, cut so it framed her face in uneven layers. It looked amazing, she looked amazing with it. But not like herself. Her face was dusted with make up and her clothes fit too tightly for his liking. After his appraisal (which really only took a few seconds), he spoke to her.

"You look different." The first thing he said in months. The smile dropped off her face momentarily, then returned, even brighter.

"God, Ron, you still can't say the right thing to save your life!" she threw her arm around his shoulder. "I think I actually missed that. I have missed you two so much!" With that, they started towards the ice cream shop and Hermione launched into the tale of her trip.

She had had a reason for not writing, it seemed. The owl post was more strictly monitored in trans-continental trips, and was quite a bit more expensive. The only owl she could afford could only carry a two inch square of parchment, and she couldn't fit everything she wanted to say in that space, so she left it all unsaid.

"I am really so terribly sorry I didn't write to you both. There were some times that I just wanted to talk to you, to complain about what was going on or ask advice or just tell you how much I missed you, but I couldn't. Or... well..." she blushed slightly, then reached into her handbag. She was carrying a handbag, Ron noticed scornfully, and reaching into it with painted nails. She pulled out two notebooks, both Muggle-made, spiral bound contraptions, and handed one to each of them. "I did write you, I just couldn't send the letters. But they're all here, and it'll give more detail then my story now. So.. Well, read it when you can." She blushed again, shot a look at Ron's book, then smiled. "So! How have your summers been?" Harry launched into the tale of how we had helped Mad Eye and Lupin in some Order business while Ron listened politely. He had done nothing this summer. Fought with Ginny, helped the twins in their shop for a week, and patiently awaited Hermione's letter. His summer in one sentence. Not very exciting.

Twenty minutes later, they still sat talking, sundaes drained to the dregs. Things were lighter, they had picked up right where they left off the year before. Except that they were all very different people. Hermione had a new confidence about her; a confidence that Ron would find attractive, were she not just so... Hermione. And Harry had finally seen some real action. He also had confidence, but it was different, and Ron didn't find it attractive in any way. They both seemed so.... Happy. Ron was the only one of the three who was exactly the same as he had been. And somehow, he resented that they had changed. He was angrily stirring the last bit of his sundae, while Harry and Hermione chatted as if nothing had changed. He barely noticed as Harry stood, only snapped out of his reverie when Hermione tapped his shoulder.

"I have to leave now," Harry explained. "Things to do. You know how it is." He smiled genuinely at his friends. "It was great seeing you two again. Can't wait 'til we get back to Hogwarts. I'll see you there." Ron smirked back, trying to forget his anger. Harry walked through the crowd, leaving in his wake a heavy air. It was somehow uncomfortable, just the two of them sitting there. Ron shifted, stole a look at Hermione as she did the same. Both looked away quickly and blushed, then she laughed. A cherubic laugh that should not have affected him, but had managed to twist his stomach into knots.

"God, Ron! Look at you!" She laughed again. "Just like I remember. I love you for that. I don't know if I could have handled it if I came back here and you weren't... well, you!" She laughed, Ron's stomach twisted tighter. 'Say something!' he shouted at himself.

"Well... I can't really say the same about you. You really do look different." He mumbled, staring into his near empty glass. "You're hair is straight and... well, it looks really nice, for a change. And you..." he trailed off, trying to think of the right words. They came at length, but they came and presented themselves boldly to a stunned Hermione. "You've grown up, Hermione! When I first met you, you were this silly bossy little know-it-all with no friends to speak of, and that's how I tended to think of you. Not the no friends part, not for long, because you and Harry are my best friends.. But I guess over time you changed. I could try and deny it before, but now here it is, staring me in the face. You've really grown out of what I'm guessing now was just an awkward stage into... a really... beautiful woman..." As soon as these words had escaped his lips, Ron wondered why he had said them. He tried to disappear into his chair but couldn't shake the feeling of Hermione's gaze. Slowly he returned it, finding her with a shocked happy look written across her face. She shook her head and laughed.

"Alright, maybe you do know how to say the right thing sometimes," she mumbled, but Ron had decided that he wasn't done talking.

"And it's not just you! Harry's grown up this summer, too." he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "You both are now blessed with this unexplainable confidence and grownup air and... damnit, I feel like a kid, still! I haven't grown up at all, the whole time I've been at Hogwarts. Sure, I think about different things, but I think about them in the same childish way! I-" Hermione carefully put her hand over his lips.

"Ron, you've grown up a hellova lot! Do you think in first year you'd even be able to say any of this to me? You'd try to ignore it, you'd pretend you didn't have any problems. Now, look at you. You have grown up. You have changed."

"But you just said-"

"The important things, the things that make you who you are, those will probably never change, and I hope they don't. You brighten peoples' days, you lighten horrible situations, you can make me smile even when I don't want to. I hope those things never change. And as for growing up, you have your whole life to grow up. I doubt you'll ever outgrow some of your childish habits, but that's okay. You'll figure it out eventually. You'll barely even notice when you do. But you shouldn't worry about it."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Ron laughed. "Wow, that was deep." he noticed. "Too deep for my liking. C'mon, Hermione, let's blow this Popsicle stand."

"I didn't think you knew what a Popsicle was," she laughed.

"I don't. But I heard a Muggle say that the other day and it sounded cool, so now I say it," he explained with a lopsided grin, placing money for the sundaes on their table. "Let's go."

"Let's!"

------

"You wouldn't believe some of the shops I saw in New York!" Hermione exclaimed as they walked. "They had their own version of Diagon Ally, except that it was much bigger and... impossible to explain. It was like everything else in the city. So modern and shiny, yet it retained the sort of old world charm that everything in the wizarding world has. And the things they sold! I still have no idea what most of it was for! The bookstore was gargantuan, though. Had three levels and over 10,000 different selections! I felt like my head was going to explode!" Ron laughed at her excitement, running a hand through his hair. "Needless to say I almost spent all of the money my parents gave me there. Jamie had to practically drag me out, kicking and screaming." Ron paused, looking at her for a moment. She was biting her lip tentatively.

"Who's Jamie?" Ron asked, trying not to sound angry. She looked up at him, trying to pretend she didn't notice.

"Oh, he's just a guy I met there. He was working with us. Really talented, that one. He knows his stuff." Ron smiled to himself, he sounded like a know-it-all, just like Hermione. "If only he would apply himself. Well.. Apply himself in something other then music. Even though he has quite a bit of talent in that, too...." She was talking more to herself now, and Ron felt the need to remind her he was there.

"You were friends with a rocker?" he chuckled, "And you didn't kill him?" Hermione looked slightly offended, crossing her arms.

"Yes, Ronald, we got along just fine, thank you," she scoffed, "probably because he didn't jump down my throat every time I suggested something." It was Ron's turn to look offended, he hadn't jumped down her throat at all, then. Hermione looked at him, and her face softened. "Though, I admit, I missed bickering with you," she blushed. Ron shot a skeptical look at her, his anger forgotten. His look slowly morphed into a lopsided smile, then he laughed slightly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he admitted. They exchanged a look, then a laugh, and they knew everything was back. He gave her a coy look, then continued his questioning. "So, how did you meet this Jamie character?" She rolled her eyes at him.

"On the third day I was there, I was in the Central Park, playing my guitar-"

"You play the guitar?" Ron asked, slightly, shocked. Hermione returned his look.

"Yeah, have I never mentioned that?" she asked, actually surprised. Ron shook his head. "Oh, wow... well, I've played since I was about 8. My uncle taught me. The same uncle I was visiting this summer. I practiced while at Hogwarts, at least once a week. I can't believe I never told you!" Ron shrugged, feeling a little strange. This seemed like a big part of her life, a big part that he had never known about. "Well, it's not that important. I practice mostly out of habit. It's only every once in a while I really want to play. And then, it's like I can't find the time. You know how things can be.

"Anyway, I was in Central Park, playing the guitar when this guy comes up to me, tell me I'm 'pretty good'. And we start talking about music, which is a topic I've never really discussed-"

"But you're Hermione, so you have a wealth of knowledge on the subject," Ron played.

"Actually, not really. I know a bit, but you can't really learn music from studying a book. It's like flying, it's just something you have to do to get. And I've spent a bit of time in the summer keeping up with Muggle music, so I know a bit. But for every fact I knew, for every band I brought up, Jamie could tell me ten things I didn't know. It was.. Refreshing, actually." Ron frowned. He could have told her things she didn't know about Quidditch. Why was that annoying, whereas this guy was refreshing. "We met up a few other times, in coffee shops and concerts and things. But the funniest part was that we both thought the other was a Muggle. It wasn't until one day I wanted to bring up a band he for sure wouldn't know, so I started talking about the Weird Sisters, and he just kinda looked at me funny for a minute, so I thought that I had something on my face, then he started laughing. I assured them that they were a real band, and he said that he knew, but he had no idea that I knew. So, we discovered that we had a lot more in common then music. I asked if he wanted to help with my uncle's project, and he did. He was probably one of the best friends I made on the trip." She got a distant look on her face, then looked a bit confused. She stopped walking, looking down Diagon Ally with a befuddled expression. Ron stopped, too, trying to see what she was seeing.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked. She looked surprised at him, as though she had forgotten he was there, then smiled.

"It's nothing. I thought I saw something, but I couldn't have," she explained. At that moment, a large barn owl swooped down and delivered a letter into her hands. She stared at it for a moment. "Now that's interesting."

"Who's it from?" Ron asked, trying to read the writing on the envelope. She shrugged her shoulders in a fashion that said she did know who it was from. Carefully, she opened the envelope and pulled out a shiny card. On it was a picture of a flower being held in a hand. The rest was out of focus, but the outline of a man presenting the flower was just visible. "What is that?" Ron questioned, very confused. Hermione smiled.

"It's a Muggle photograph." She explained. "They don't move, you know. Muggles use them as a sort of art form. I think I know who took this photo." She looked around, to the spot she had been staring earlier, but it was empty. Frowning, she turned the photograph over.

I hope this helps you see.
Sincerely,
Me.

Ron looked at the message, frowning as well. "Well that's a bit vague" he noted. Hermione didn't hear, or if she did, she was too busy smiling to respond. She shook her head and put the picture in its envelope, then into her purse. Safely stowed away, she turned back to Ron.

"I should be going. I've got to pack still, and there's a few other things I want to do back home," she mused, looking off in the distance again. She didn't see the disappointed look that crossed Ron's face, for the moment she turned back, it was gone. "I'll see you tomorrow on the train." She said, kissing his cheek. When Ron came to his senses again, she was already out of earshot, walking away with that confident air. Ron rubbed his cheek when she had kissed, wondering for the umpteenth time that day when Hermione had started having an effect on his stomach. Realizing what an idiot he must've looked like, standing in a busy street, rubbing his cheek, he hurried into Flourish and Blotts to buy his new school books.

----

Later that night, Ron remembered the notebook. It was sitting on his dresser, looking innocent. Ron knew better. He walked over to it, wondering what mysteries it would revile. It didn't look all that interesting. Plain blue with some bored doodles on the cover. He picked it up and looked at the scribblings further. In the top right corner was three faces, obviously representing himself, Harry and Hermione. An arrow was pointed at them with the words "Cool people" dancing around it. Ron laughed at that. The center of the cover was the dance floor for two stick figures, one in a dress. Various horns surrounded them, with notes pouring out of them and bouncing off of the couple. Ron wondered how bored she had to have been to charm the doodles so intricately. To the left of the "cool people" drawing, in a handwriting Ron didn't recognize, "This is Lauri, I'm cool, too" was written upside-down. Hermione Had written below this "She's a dirty liar". Ron laughed again, imagining the scene that this had occurred in. He stared at the cover for a minute more, before one of the "cool people" faces coughed, reminding him that things were written inside. He blushed, glared at the faces (who had returned to talking to each other wordlessly) and opened the blue book.

On the inside cover was a message written in large black letters. "IF YOU READ THIS AND YOUR NAME ISN'T RON WEASLEY, YOUR FACE WILL BECOME AS SPOTTY AND POCMARKED AS YOUR SOUL!" This caused Ron to raise an eyebrow and chuckle, wondering is the spell she had put on the book would really relate face-to-soul-spottiness. If it did, he'd like to see Malfoy read it. He would surely come out unrecognizable. Ron turned to the first page, the writing was that of a Hermione he remembered.

"Dear Ron,
Well, this is totally outrageous. I just got back from the New York Owl Post Office, and the smallest size letter to England costs 25 Galleons! That is totally outlandish! How can they charge that much! And the Muggle post isn't much better, so I can't even send you a letter through Harry's family! Ooooh, I could just scream!
So I guess this will have to suffice. But I just feel horrible that I can't even tell you what's going on. You probably think I hate you. And I don't blame you, if I didn't get a letter from you or Harry all summer, I'd be outraged. I'm so so very sorry about this. Really, Ron, I think I might die not being able to talk to you all summer!
I've been here for about a week-
 She had already met that Jamie person, Ron found himself thinking.

And the city is unbelievable. It's soooooo big! I have never been surrounded by so many tall buildings before! It's all so modern and shiny and bright. I love it here. I really do.
I have to take a taxi everywhere. I'm not sure if I like that. It's rather expensive after a while. But I generally go with other people, and they've taken to paying for the fare. Especially my uncle. Oh, I should explain him. He's not my uncle by blood, but by marriage. And he's a wizard. Isn't that a weird coincidence? Yes it is. I didn't even know until last summer. Their family was visiting us for a week and I found my cousin pacing around the kitchen by wand light. Then we decided to play a joke on our parents; we did magic at breakfast, which was unusual for both families when we have company. Actually, she was the one doing magic, as she was already of age in America. I wish you could have seen their faces. It was priceless.
I really like working with my uncle. We're doing research for my uncle's company, developing a new Muggle safe guard that could change how a lot of things are done. Like the World Cup. This could make hiding big events a lot easier. Unfortunately, research has come upon a few snags. I won't bore you with the details here, but we're always kept on our toes.
Central Park is beautiful. I went there the other day to relax a bit, and it was really great. I wish you could see all of this! You'd really like it, Ron!
Well, I'm rather tired. It's about 12 o'clock here, and I have to be up at 5. Well, I'll write more later. I miss you so much!!!!
Love from:
Hermione."

This letter cheered Ron, it felt like he was taking this trip with her. That's what he had wanted all summer. He tossed himself down on his bed and read the next letter, and the one after that, and after that before his eyelids grew heavy. Finally, he fell asleep with the notebook open to a page whose writing was sloppier than the others. It read, barely legible, "Je ne peux pas te dire, c'est un secret, je ne devrais pas te dire, mais je t'aime. Et j'aime le champagne."

-----

Hermione sat on her bed, eyes on a Muggle photograph sitting midst other photographs like it. She strummed idly at her guitar, an idea forming in her head as the moments passed. Finally, she played a chord, smiled, and began to sing.

"Dear Jamie, I've got a letter I would like to send....."

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Well, the first chapter of what should prove to be a very interesting story. Please please pretty please review and I will love you forever! Okay, maybe not, but I'll definetly give you a cookie. Anyhoo, next chapters in the next few days. Tell me what you think!