Chapter Two: A Matter of Privacy

After the suspicious way he had acted that morning, Ron realised that he had to do something … but what?

Perhaps he could talk to Harry about it – no, even though he was Ron's best friend, Harry would probably laugh himself senseless at Ron's expense – come to think of it, Harry wasn't all that experienced with girls either. Besides, at the moment he was out on the Quidditch pitch, mucking around on his broom along with Dean and Seamus. They had invited Ron, but he had declined.

What about Ginny? Ron thought to himself. She was a girl, after all … and she was his sister … and, even though she was a year younger than him, she was probably smarter … well, in the areas to do with feelings, anyway.

His mind made up, Ron got up from his chair in the common room to go and find his sister, and realised she was shopping in Hogsmeade with Hermione.

"Bloody hell, that's that brilliant idea gone," Ron muttered to himself. Who else could he talk to? Someone who wouldn't ridicule him, someone who had a bit of experience with girls, someone like …

"Bill," Ron said aloud. Yes, that was it. He would write to Bill. His older brother was quite wise in the way of women – after all, he did have a certain beautiful, French half-Veela after his heart.

Ron ran up to the dormitory for a quill and parchment, praying that when he got back to the common room it would still be empty. He was in luck – being Sunday, everyone had disappeared from Gryffindor Tower to enjoy their freedom before returning to the piles of school work that was sixth year.

Dipping his quill into an inkpot Ron wrote Dear Bill, and paused, contemplating the different ways he could express his feelings as words.

Dear Bill, what would you do if you fancied someone but didn't have a bloody clue how to tell her?

Reading this over, Ron thought it was all right: clear and to the point. Until …

No, be more direct. Tell him exactly who it is you fancy, it'll make a difference!

The Hermione voice was back.

"Not you again," muttered Ron, realising shortly after he spoke that he was talking to a voice in his head and if anyone happened to see him, they would surely think he'd gone mad. Not entirely sure that he hadn't gone mad, Ron decided to listen to the voice for once, and tried a different approach to the letter.

Dear Bill,

Hi mate, it's me, Ron. How's everything going? Just the usual here at Hogwarts, except I'm in a bit of a mess and I need your advice so I won't make a completegit of myself.It's about a girl. Well she's one of my best mates, and I think I fancy her. Well,yeah, I do. It's Hermione, by the way. And I don't know how I'm supposed to tell her, and I thought you might have some advice – how are those private Englishlessons with Fleur going, by the way?So, if you could send back soon that'd be good, thanks, mate.Cheers,Ron.

Ron replaced his quill and sat back, re-reading the letter. True, he'd gone on a bit, but it was mostly to the point.

Suddenly, he heard laughter outside the portrait – girls' laughter … Hermione and Ginny's laughter. Cursing under his breath, Ron stashed the letter down the side of the armchair cushion, knocking over the bottle of ink in the process.

"Chocolate Frog," came Ginny's voice stating the password, and the two girls, still giggling, climbed through the portrait hole.

"Hey, Ron," Ginny greeted him, ruffling his already dishevelled hair. Hermione grinned at him and his stomach gave a jolt as if he had just eaten ten Peppermint Toads.

Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it at the ink Ron had spilled, muttering, "Evanesco."

"Thanks," Ron said, grinning sheepishly.

"What happened, anyway, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, erm, late – late Potions essay. Just finished it and knocked over the bloody ink bottle."

He could tell that Ginny didn't believe him; she was looking at him curiously, but he shook his head very slightly, meaning, tell you later.

"Well, I'm going up to the dorm – see you at dinner," Ron addressed the two girls, and left the common room.

"Yeah, I think I'll go upstairs for a bit too – coming, 'Mione?" Ginny asked.

"No, I think I'll stay here for a while," said Hermione, and after Ginny had exited the now-empty common room, she sat down in her favourite chair, the one Ron had been sitting in only a short while before.

Hermione intended to write in her diary, the one she kept hidden down the side of her favourite chair. She knew nobody would find it here, and even if they did, she had bewitched it with a complicated spell so that it could be read by her eyes only. Besides, she didn't want it left lying around in the girls' dorm, either – she didn't entirely trust Lavender and Parvati, who were her friends but always liked a good gossip.

However, as Hermione reached down the side of the armchair, the first thing she felt was not her diary, but a piece of parchment. Pulling it out, she looked down at it and saw that it was a letter. Glancing around the common room to make sure that it was indeed deserted, Hermione began to refold the letter, not wanting to intrude upon anyone's privacy by reading it. But before she could fold it completely, something caught her eye; the words Cheers, Ron.

It was a letter from Ron, to – she checked the top of the letter – Bill. He hadn't been completing a Potions essay, after all.

Read it, said a devious little voice in her head. Go on. You know you want to.

No, Hermione argued with herself. No, I can't read it. It's Ron's private letter.

But then something else caught her eye. It was her own name, written there in the letter in Ron's messy handwriting, and Hermione knew that this was one matter of privacy she would have to intrude upon.