Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any other related...blahblahblah by JK Rowling.

Blue

He looks into my eyes after he kisses me and I feel that familiar clenching sensation at the bottom of my stomach that I always get when I get so close to those beautiful emerald green eyes. He sits with his arms wrapped around me, and each inch of contact our skin shares burns like dull fire.

This is surreal. Never in a thousand years would I have imagined that I could feel so elated around him. I mean…come on. He had been my best friend—somebody that I loved, but in a highly different way than any boy I'd ever fancied romantically. He, just like Ron, had been more like a brother to me in all the years that I'd known him.

Oh, Ron. It still hurts to think about what our relationship may soon do to all of our friendships, but nothing has happened yet. This is because Harry and I decided on that snowy winter night over Christmas break to keep what we have a secret. Nobody knows. Ron, quite surprisingly, never questioned him when Harry changed his mind and decided to stay with me at Hogwarts instead of at the Burrow the very last minute.

I reach up to touch the raven hair that I love so much. It looks as if each strand has been individually dipped in black ink, like if you touched it the color would rub off on your fingers. "I can't stand this," he says quietly.

Tonight there is a hidden expression behind his eyes that I cannot put a finger on. Lately, it seemed that there was always some unexpressed emotion behind them that I can't understand, especially during the day. Whenever I would glance at him during class and try to get him to give me some sort of hint that he really did love me—really did care—his eyebrows would lower and he'd look at me imploringly, as if he didn't understand what I was asking for at all. It scares me. When I ask him about his behavior when we're alone he always gives me the same explanation—that he wants to keep the secret undetectable. There's no doubt that he does a damn good job of it. Too good, sometimes.

"I can't stand it either," I reply, watching the steam from my breath rise up and disappear in the cold air. "I've never had to keep a secret that I wanted so much to tell the world." He turns his head to look away, putting a hand over his eyes and I lean in closer to him. "Harry…"

"No," he says, his voice suddenly firm. "You don't understand. It's not that."

I reach up to take his had away from his face, so that I can see his eyes. When he turns his head to finally look back at me, I see a thin clear line of tears glittering just above his lower eyelid, threatening to spill down.

I try desperately to look deeper into his eyes and know what he's feeling. It's something I've always prided myself on being able to do, but tonight it seems impossible, like there is an empty hollow void where there should be my Harry…raw love, fear, curiosity, anger, talent, hope...

Shaking my head, I squeeze his hand. "There's something different about you tonight, Harry. What's got you?"

Maddeningly, he jerks his hand out of my grasp. "You're just realizing it now?" he asks, and I flinch inwardly at the biting nature of his voice. He laughs bitterly, and begins to talk before I have a chance. "I've been such an idiot, Hermione, and I can't take this anymore. I can't…" Two tears slide down his cheek and pool together on his defined jaw line.

"It's okay," I say, trying to sound reassuring. I'd never known that this had bothered him so much. Why hadn't he ever told me? "It's okay, we don't have to keep it a secret anymore, we can tell Ron first thing in the morning, and I'm sure he'll understand Harry, he loves us."

"If only you knew how much," he says quietly.

I narrow my eyes. "What?"

Harry doesn't answer me. Instead, he stands up so that he towers at least three feet above my head and I have to strain my neck to see his face. "What would I say, Hermione? What would I say to everyone?" His voice is cracking with emotion, and tears are sliding down his face at an alarming rate. "Would I tell them that I'm really just a bloody idiot because I can't get my best friend to fall in love me unless I'm somebody else? Would I go up to Harry and tell him that I've been polyjuicing myself into him nearly every day to be with his best friend? Would I have to—"

I am crying now. "Stop it!" I shout, scrambling on to shaky legs while my heart beats inconceivably fast and blood pounds in my ears. "What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Hermione…I love you."

I watch in complete horror as the boy I love stands before me, and his beautiful hair begins to change color. Red. His legs grow longer, and his face fades. His eyes are no longer green.

Blue.

Ron Weasley.

A/N: I wrote this for a writing contest on the boards...