A/N: Wow, it's been ages since I've updated this thing. Sorry! Here it is though, and we're almost to the good part! Yay! Holy cow, 61 reviews! Keep it up!

I spy with my little eye,

A clue our dear Ronnie has let slip by.

A clue that could reveal the intentions of our lady fair,

A clue that shows certain feelings were always there.

So my friends search for the hint,

The reader who catches on will get a present!

And by present I mean a cookie. And by all of that nonsense I mean I'm hopeless at poetry. Yes, I do realize I'm pathetic; I won't put you through that torture again.

Disclaimer: If I ran the world I would own Harry Potter, but I don't run the world. If I ran the world the American Revolution would never have been fought. Who cares about taxation without representation? We could have had cool accents! Geez!

Over the next few months Ron poured his heart and soul into his work. The training sessions took so much out of him, physically and mentally, that when he got home each night he was barely able to conjure a quick dinner for himself before collapsing onto his bed. Harry and Ginny recognized this, but let him grieve. They hated seeing him like this, but after the twenty-seventh failed intervention they succumbed to the consolation there were worse ways Ron could handle his pain.

Ron meanwhile, was congratulating himself on the sheer genius of his plan. Auror training kept him so busy he had no spare time to think about Hermione.

Except of course the day they had that guest lecturer with the bushy brown ringlets. And that other day when they learned how to recognize an animagus and Ron was tested with a ginger cat. But no matter, that's why he always stayed long after training was finished. He didn't have a spare moment to waste on her then!

Well, besides the time when Harry stayed with him and Ron was reminded so strongly of their studying sessions at Hogwarts he instinctively leaned to his left to copy off an absent brunette's paper. Then there was that other time Ron was researching protective spells that were placed on Hogwarts and felt a sharp pang as he cracked Hogwarts A History open for the first time.

"Why must everything relate to her!" Ron complained to an empty room.

Running his fingers through his hair distractedly Ron decided to go home. It was in the wee hours of the morning—an early night for Ron nowadays—but he knew there was no way any more work was going to get done tonight.

With a sigh Ron apparated back to his living room.

CRACK!

"Lumos." He muttered, casting light over his end table, couch, Hermione, issues of Cannons Weekly, area rug, and wait!

"Hermione?" Ron asked in wonderment, his eyes traveling over her sleeping form. Was his mind playing tricks on him? It was late after all…was he just imagining her?

Ron smiled as he saw Hermione was wearing his sweatshirt. It was gigantic on her, but in her sleep she smiled and snuggled into it, breathing in Ron's scent that lingered on the collar. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful, and so perfect, that Ron did not want to wake her…but he had to, to find out if she was real or just a fantasy.

"Hermione." He said softly.

"Oh Ron." Hermione breathed. "Don't be silly, I'll always be here for you."

Ron's shoulders slumped. This was his imagination. "Not in the way I want you to be." He said quietly. Ron crossed the room to stand over her. "But I'll be fine with that…eventually. It just may take me a little longer than you might like." With that Ron leaned down, kissed the love of his life on the forehead, and retreated to his room.

He dozed off to a light sleep filled with dreams of Hermione.

He sensed she was in the room before he saw her. She gave off a pulsating energy of goodness, love, wisdom, compassion, and intelligence that always made it superfluous for her to announce her presence upon entering a room. Ron opened one eye slightly. She was standing, watching him sleep, and gazing at him—could it be lovingly? Well there was no question about it now—this was definitely a figment of his imagination.

Ron opened both his eyes, causing Hermione to start and avert her eyes.

"I love you Hermione Granger." Ron mumbled as he closed his eyes again. "Always have and always will." When he opened his eyes again she was gone. He swore to himself. "Even in my imagination you leave me Hermione!" He yelled to the empty room. After tossing and turning for what seemed like an eternity Ron drifted off into a fitful sleep.

He woke to a soft hooting beside his ear. Ron opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of Hermione's owl, Dolarn. Ron smiled and removed the letter from Dolarn's leg.

Dear Ron,

I stopped by your flat early this morning but you were asleep, so would you please meet me for lunch today at the Three Broomsticks? How's 12:00? Send a reply back with Dolarn. Thanks!

Love from,

Hermione

Ron's smile drooped slightly. So they had reverted back to love from? Ron mentally slapped himself. "Of course you have you idiot! You're just friends, get that through your thick skull! She's happier this way, and that's what matters!" Ron thought angrily to himself as he scribbled a reply.

Hermione,

I'd love to meet you for lunch. Sorry for being asleep, but what unearthly hour did you stop by? A man needs his sleep Hermione! See you at noon!

Yours,

Ron

Ron rushed through his paperwork that morning, arrived at the Three Broomsticks thirteen minutes before he was supposed to meet Hermione, and got them their usual table for two near the window.

Hermione walked through the door and Ron stood up to wave her over.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. "Uh, shall we get a table then?"

"Why?" Ron said, confused. "I like this table."

"Do you think it's big enough though?" Hermione said anxiously, craning her neck to look at the door.

"What do you mean big enough? We've sat at this table a thousand times Hermione. How is this any different? Do you think you've gained weight or something because let me tell you that you—"

"No, no, Ron that's not what I meant." Hermione shook her head, her eyes still glued on the door. "I just…oh Ron let's get a new table, change is good for you after all."

"Hermione, look at me." Ron said.

She glanced at him, before returning her gaze to the door. "What?" She said impatiently.

"You haven't looked at me for longer than half a second Hermione! And what do you mean change is good? You know I hate bloody—"

"Scott!" Hermione squealed as a handsome bloke entered the pub. He turned his bright, laughing eyes on Hermione, and Ron saw the back of her neck flush, an occurrence that, until now, was caused by Ron and Ron alone.

"change." Ron finished weakly as Scott gave Hermione a peck on the cheek and grabbed her hand.

"Hi darling." Scott drawled. "And you must be Ron." He said, giving Ron an appraising once over. He held out a hand for Ron to shake. "I'm Scott, Hermy's boyfriend."

Ron had a difficult time shaking Scott's hand. First and foremost he had to prevent himself from attempting to crush every bone in the bloody idiotic pretty boy's hand. Second he had to deal with the acrobatics his internal organs were performing. While his breakfast threatened come back up for an encore performance at the sound of the nickname Hermione hated more than anything his heart dropped to somewhere near his toes as he heard the word "boyfriend".

"Pleasure" Ron grunted and dropped Scott's hand quickly.

Over the next hour Ron learned just how perfect Scott was. He graduated at the top of his class at the best magical school in America. He discovered a potion to cure warts. He was in the process of writing a book about modern wizarding history. He was the star keeper on his school team and was offered to keep for the American national team, but turned them down to travel in England in order to write his book. Finally Scott expressed how sorry he was, but he simply had to leave, he was interviewing some barmy witch that afternoon and could not be late. "It could be the most interesting chapter in my book!" He said hurriedly as he kissed Hermione and nodded to Ron.

"So," Hermione said as soon as Scott was out of sight. "What do you think?"

Ron knew what he thought. He thought Scott was the most manipulative, low, foul, rotten, condescending, foolhardy, obnoxious, snobby, insufferable, repulsive, vile, intolerable, detestable, abhorrent, despicable, horrible, repugnant, dreadful, horrendous, unbearable, revolting bloody excuse for a human being he had ever seen. Ron also knew what Hermione wanted to hear. He sighed and asked, "Are you happy?"

Hermione paused slightly before saying determinedly, "Yes. Yes I am."

Ron forced a smile. "Then I'm happy."

A/N: You know the drill. Blah, blah, blah, review, review, review, yada, yada, yada. Especially if you found the hint to Hermione's feelings. If anyone does I'll be impressed. And don't you want to impress me?