He was back at Kings Cross Station. He was saying goodbye to Hermione. She was slowly moving towards him. He watched her, savoring every moment as the sunlight glistened on her beautiful brown hair. She was moving closer to him. Her face was now inches from his. He suddenly felt paralyzed. She placed her hands behind his head, at that very moment; he re-gained feeling in his arms and wrapped them around her waist. She was leaning in towards him. He could feel her eye-lashes tickling his face. Her lips were so close to his. He could feel her warm breath on his.
"Ron! Breakfast!"
Ron woke with a start. He then stared abysmally at the ceiling reliving his dream over in his mind. He had been having dreams like this for quite some time now. He got out of bed and crossed his bedroom to his window and stared blankly out of it, deep in thought. Hermione was his best friend. He couldn't have these feelings for her. Yet the other part of his brain was longing for his nightly dreams to spring into reality. He knew he had had feelings for her every since first year after they defeated the troll, but he had pushed his feelings so far into the back of his head, that he couldn't even admit to himself of those feelings.
"Ronald! It's almost noon! Come and eat your breakfast, or lunch really."
"Coming Mum!" Ron was suddenly aware of how hungry he was. He dressed quickly and wandered downstairs into the kitchen.
"Good afternoon dear," said his mother, "have a good sleep?"
"I guess." for he wasn't sure whether the dreams he had been having were good or bad.
"That's good." his mother replied, piling food onto his plate. He ate his breakfast and then decided to go for a fly on his broomstick.
As the warm summer air blew gently through his hair, he couldn't help but to think about the dream he had last night and all the ones like it he had had before. He knew what they meant. He wasn't stupid. He just- didn't want to believe them. He knew he had feelings for Hermione, but he kept telling himself over and over again, that she was his best friend and he didn't have those kind of feelings for her, no matter how much he dreamt about it. Besides, what would Harry- his and Hermione's best friend think? He knew Harry didn't have the same feelings towards her as he did, but he couldn't imagine confronting the truth to Harry. He spent the rest of the day thinking about this and telling himself that he didn't like Hermione that way. In the end, he had convinced himself (though not entirely) that he didn't like her anymore than a friend. Hermione was to arrive at the burrow the next day and the day was creeping towards an end. Ron headed up to his bedroom. He climbed into bed and told himself once more "See Ron, you can't like her. You don't like her!" and with that last thought, he fell fast asleep.
Hundreds of miles away, a chestnut-brown haired girl did the same, though she did not fall fast asleep. She lie wide awake thinking of a certain tall, red-haired boy with freckles to whom she was going to spend the rest of the summer with starting the following day. She noticed that as hard as she tried, she could not get the picture of his face out of her head. She missed him so much. Now, Hermione loved her parents very much but she couldn't help but to count down the days until she would see Ron again. "And Ginny too Hermione!" she reminded herself. She knew why she couldn't wait to see him. He was just so wonderful. She could tell him anything. Except one thing that is. "No, I am NOT keeping anything from Ron, and I don't like him any more than a friend! Like Harry! Harry is like...a brother to me. So-so..is Ron? No. YES. No. YES!" she argued with herself. "Yes, like a brother…" and with that, Hermione then drifted off to sleep…
She was at Hogwarts in the Gryffindor common room. "Oh give it here." she said. A red-haired boy looked up.
"Hermione, you are truly the most wonderful person I have ever met, and if I'm ever mean to you again-"
"Then I'll know your back to normal." she said going slightly pink.
Hermione jumped awake. She was still lying flat on her back. Once again, she lie staring into the darkness (for it was only 5:00a.m.) thinking. She remembered that dream. But it wasn't a dream. No, it had happened before. Yes, in her fifth year. She remembered straining herself, trying not to blush at Ron's words- "Hermione, you are truly the most wonderful person I have ever met". "He only said that because I told him I'd do his homework for him." She thought. Then, she flashed back to the other words he said to her- "If I'm ever mean to you again-" but she had cut him off. "Why did I cut him off?" She asked herself. "What was he going to say? Why does he always bicker with me? Why do I always bicker with him? Because you think that the only way to get extra attention from him is to argue with him." Hermione had no idea where this voice was coming from but she knew it was true, but as stubborn as she was, she denied it. "That's not true, I bicker with him because he's an annoying, insensitive prat! -Have you ever thought maybe the reason he bickers with you is for the same reason you bicker with him? You know, the reason that you want attention from him?" Again, Hermione had no idea where this voice was coming from inside her head, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that it could be an option. "Haha, yeah right, Ron, like me? Like that would ever happen!" But she hadn't completely convinced herself.
It was now already 6:00a.m. so she figured she would get up considering she knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep with irresistible excitement for 10:00a.m. to come. She got up and sighed. Then she glanced at the clock which now read 6:05a.m. She sighed again and began to pace her room, giving her clock anxious glances ever now and then.
