Here's the chapter you all've been waiting for!

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The Eighth Visitor: Red

Just as Hermione had been wondering when she would meet the Romantic aspect of Ron (she was starting to doubt his existence) a red glow illuminated the room.

"Hermione, mi amor, where art thou?" Ron's voice called out.

"Over here, Ron!" Hermione answered, stifling a giggle. Despite his hodgepodge mix of styles, this Ron was onto something good, and she bubbled with anticipation.

A red specter of Ron appeared at her bedside. His hair hadn't changed a bit, but now his whole body was radiantly red to match. He looked polished and sleek, and rather dashing. Hermione had always thought Ron was cute, but she had never seen him looking so handsome.

"Hello, Hermione. Even in a humble hospital bed, of all mortal and immortal beings, you remain the most beautiful I have ever seen."

He presented her with a ghostly bouquet of three-dozen roses. Before she could respond (she seemed to have lost her ability to speak) he lavished the roses upon her. She was completely overwhelmed at the sheer volume of roses, and the fact that RON was delivering poetry. But no wonder the actual Ron was no regular Romeo – this red version of him was as transparent as the black one.

"You – I – they're beautiful, Ron! Thank you!" She stammered. Out of uncertainty she sniffed the roses, the soft petals caressing her face. Somehow the sweet scent reminded her of the Burrow.

"They're not as beautiful as you, Hermione. Oh, it is so good to see you smiling. I couldn't stand your being all alone in the hospital wing. My heart was aching to be by your side."

"I wanted to see you too, Ron." Although of course, she had been seeing "Ron" all night.

"Some of the others have told me you had some good news, but were gracious enough to let me hear it with my own ears."

"Yes." She replied, her cheeks growing warm. "Ron, I lov - "

"And before you do," he interrupted politely, softly putting a finger to her lips, "let me take those roses out of your hands."

"Oh – right!" She said absently, having forgotten she was still holding the bouquet. Now her lips were warm since Ron had touched them. So, where to put 36 half-invisible roses?

Just then Ron produced a sparkling red vase, and a suave grin.

"Ah. Thank you." She placed the flowers in the vase and reached out to set the vase on the bedside table.

As she pulled back her hand from the table, Ron took it in his without missing a beat, making her lightly gasp in surprised pleasure.

"Oh!" He attentively examined her hand, each of her fingers, their delicate form. There had been something she had wanted to say to him, but now she only felt it. She felt her hands become warm now, her fingers becoming rosy.

In the few moments he so lovingly examined her hands, Hermione gazed at him, transfixed. His lean yet toned form had grace and balance. It was so weird to see him move so differently. It made her sad to realize how awkwardly Ron normally carried himself, not only because of his height and long limbs but from a lack of confidence. They say you cannot love until you love yourself, and this Ron radiated confidence and passion. As the pace of her heart quickening, it hit Hermione all of a sudden that Ron was really hot!

He looked back up and met her amorous gaze, his eyes soft but intense. He then closed his eyes blissfully and kissed her hand. Hermione's stomach did flips as she felt a surge of chemicals rush through her body. His hand holding hers was so gentle and his lips were so soft.

After an eternal moment his eyes met hers again. He took a deep, serene breath and said, "I want to tell you something first. Is that alright?"

"Yes! That's fine!" She said casually, although she was aching to hear what he was about to say.

"Hermione, I know we've had our disagreements in the past. Now, I promise to you that none of those were my fault-"

"Not your fault?" Hermione asked, remembering several fights that had begun due to Ron's pig-headedness.

"Well, I know it was Ron's fault, but it was the other ones, not me. Especially Greenie and… El Ronaldo."

Hermione shuddered as if he had just uttered that V-word that rhymes with moldemort.

"You know who I'm talking about then. Anyway, although I honestly never initiated any conflict with you, I must apologize to you."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't stop them! I never was willing to assert myself and say, 'Wait! You can't do that to Hermione! She's the world to us; don't you all see that? The reason we wake up in the morning, the reason to keep fighting, the reason we know there will always be good in the world as long as she's there…"

Hermione, deeply moved, felt a tear roll down her cheek out of pure bliss. Ron smiled and gently wiped it away.

"Oh Hermione," he whispered as he touched her cheek. "I have wanted to say this for so long, and now I mean it with all my soul…"

Hermione's beating heart reached a crescendo as she anticipated those three little words…

"You are HOT!"

"I love you t -" Hermione stopped and blinked. "Wha-? Mmmpp!"

Before she could even finish the word, Ron had suddenly pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione's eyes widened with shock, and she was about to object, but then the power and passion of Ron's kiss made her body melt. She lost all ability to think, except that all she knew was that she wanted to kiss him back real good.

As he wrapped his arms around her, she passionately ran her hands through his hair, down his muscular back, caressed his soft neck. His lips and mouth were hot and restless. They kissed intensely in fiery ecstasy, like - how the French had meant for people in love to kiss.

Hermione had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly she could see, even with tightly closed eyes, that the red glow from the Romantic specter steadily became brighter.

Despite the laws of physics they broke apart, and the red Ron, like the yellow one before him, held out his hands and watched them grow brighter in awe.

Hermione was ecstatic! Ron had just become a more romantic person than before! Her mind raced with the possibilities. It was going to be a good year.

Unlike the yellow Ron, who had fled in terror, the red one smiled suavely again, turned to Hermione and said, "Now – where were we…?" as he leaned in.

"Wait, Ron," she said, using his move and putting a finger to his lips. "It must almost be morning, and there are still two more personas I have to meet."

"You don't have to…" he persisted, leaning in again.

"Please Ron," she begged, holding him off, although part of her definitely didn't want to. "Besides," she said romantically in a low voice, "let's save some of this for later…"

"Oh-ho!" said Ron, pleased with the idea. "Very well, Hermione. Parting is such sweet sorrow." He took her hand one last time and kissed it amorously with that same sexy look in his eyes.

He turned to go, but before he reached the door, he stopped.

"Hermione," he said as he turned half around to look at her.

"Yes?"

"I love you. "

Hermione beamed at him. "I love you too, Ron. And I always have."

"That's it." He said, grinning. "That's the good news I was hoping to hear. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Ron."

He turned back around and left the hospital wing. The door clicked behind him.

"Ah-hahahahha!" Hermione sighed tremulously and collapsed backward on her bed, her heart aflutter. "So I guess Ron has a romantic side after all…" she said to herself breathlessly. "… I must be in heaven!"