A/N: If you want to read the story history, check my author's page.

Dedicated to: Tiffany (for reading this first) and to—even though I know you three will never read this—Ford (for taking such an odd interest in my personal life), Dani (for being nosy and well, you), and Rachel (for shutting Ford up). Without you three this story would have absolutely no basis in reality and therefore would not exist because being the uncreative person that I am I have to derive my stories from life experience.

Hopefully you will read this story even if you don't read my really, freaking long author's note.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my life story.

When Rumors Hold the Truth

Like most people who, in their nature, planned and organized, Hermione Granger kept a calendar which detailed every event, test, and birthday within her knowledge. She tried to spread her well-organized demeanor to her two closest friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, but that was all in vain. Despite that she tried every year, and every year they both knew to keep out of her vicinity when she exam time came near, which was when she felt most compelled to criticize their study habits.

Well, little did they know, she didn't limit herself to writing next week's Potion's test or when Easter break began. Hermione also jotted down her thoughts and opinions—to some degree. It is the ideal thing for such a productive girl; a day by day account without all that wasted time writing long passages. All she had to do was look back and get the gist of any selected day. As Hermione was a very productive person, she also enjoyed looking at past achievements and failures so she was well aware of what she needed to do to be more efficient. By doing so she reviewed her past calendars as a sort of memory book.

On the windy, September morning in which she felt it due time to look about her past year she was residing a Hogwarts, which was her second home. As she sat upon her bed, curtains closed, lost inside her past, she took no notice to her cat, Crookshanks tearing up one of her precious calendars. When she finally realized his presence she swatted him away and tried to regain the lost fragments of parchment, but all in vain. With a defeated sigh she got lost in her thoughts once more thinking, "…I remember that Hogsmeade trip, all that butterbeer, I got sick from the sugar…there was the date of the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL, could've done better…"

Crookshanks, disgruntled from being dismissed from his owner, had unhappily settled onto one of the chairs by the fireplace. Ron had just returned from Quidditch practice and was unaware of the fact that a ginger cat had settled his way on his favorite chair so he sat down, but shot up as Crookshanks hissed and slunk away.

"Stupid cat," he muttered as he brushed long, bristled ginger colored hair off his pants and the scarlet chair of mention, "stupid cat sitting in my chair…should be with Hermione…after all it is her cat…I never liked that thing…ever since third year its had it out for me…" he stopped his rambling as he sat down and proceeded to lay sprawled in it the chair as he stared at the fire muttering words to himself about everything that was going wrong in his life.

Ginny had entered the room in an equally sore state and asked, "What's wrong with you?" He ignored his sister and she went up the staircase to the girl's dormitory in a huff. On the staircase was a piece of paper written in neat handwriting. It was only about the size of a Cauldron Cake and was written painstakingly clear. She picked it up and recognized the handwriting immediately.

"Hermione," she whispered in a barely audible voice with a smirk on her face. She took one look back at the common room and then composedly walked up the stairs to her dormitory where she proceeded to burst out in a maniacal fit of laughter.

Ginny was met by her confused (and slightly scared) dorm mates of the past several years, "What, can't a person randomly break into their dorm and laugh for no apparent reason?" she asked and shrugged her shoulders, "Goodness, stop looking at me like I'm a Muggle on a tellyphon."

…

During breakfast the following day Ginny was in a state of cheerfulness, like she had her own little secret. And she did. She sauntered into the Great Hall and sat down next to her dear friend, took a slice of toast, and poured herself some juice into a goblet. "Hermione, do you fancy somebody?" She asked nonchalantly as she buttered her toast and took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"What? What do you think?" Hermione stated in shock as she rapidly looked down at her food and seemed intent on boring holes through the table with her eyes.

"I think you do," Ginny whipped out a piece of parchment from her robes pocket and read, "Ahem, 'School begins after break…Charms paper due on Tuesday…Create study schedule for Potions test over Chapter 15.3…I get to see him today.' I thought you were so studious. Now…tell me; who you fancy?" Ginny put one arm on the table so her body was faced toward her friend.

"Who is it? Is it Terry Boot?"

"I don't fancy Terry!"

"Oh, is it that guy…Ernie from Hufflepuff."

"Ernie?"

"Is it Neville? My goodness it is Neville!"

"No! I don't fancy him. He's a nice friend and a good person."

"Is it…."

"I have to go to class and I should probably go wake up Ron." And with that she grabbed her bag and shook her head.

Harry looked up from his eggs and remarked, "Don't classes start in thirty minutes?"

"Yes, Harry. Yes, they do. Oh, she's hiding something. She's hiding something big." Ginny started chuckling to herself and Harry raised an eyebrow with a mouthful of eggs.

"Ginny, you're one strange person."

"No, not strange Harry; I'm the one with sense…and eyes," she added as an afterthought.

…

After a hurried lunch Hermione left the Great Hall and sat beneath a tree on the grounds hoping to avoid another interrogation from Ginny. She calmly read her latest book while being comforted by the cool shade and the slight breeze that blew threw the air. However, as soon as she saw Harry and Ginny approaching from the corner of her eye after about ten minutes of peace and tranquility, she started to sneak away to library--and if that route was blocked--to some other safe zone, when Harry called out, "Hey, Hermione!"

She groaned and whipped around, "Yes, Harry?"

"Who do you fancy?"

"Urghhhh…" Hermione turned back around and stormed on. It wasn't long before they caught her, and squished her in between them.

"Who do you fancy?" asked Harry again.

"You can't write that unless you're talking about a certain someone. So tell me…who is it? Come on, you know you want to tell me," Ginny entreated Hermione.

"Why would I?"

"Because I really, really want to know," whined Ginny in the pleading voice of a four year old.

"That is not a reason, Ginny."

"Yes it is!"

"No, it isn't. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find some sane people."

"I am so sane!" Ginny called after Hermione as she brushed away. Harry just looked at Ginny strangely and started laughing…until Ginny slapped him over the head.

…

Hermione and Ginny were in the common room after a long day of classes, Ron was retrieving some leftover Bernie Botts Every Flavor Beans along with his Transfiguration homework, so Hermione could check it, from his dormitory (which was taking a long time since the boys dormitory was laden with socks and sweaty Quidditch uniforms), and Harry was off somewhere…being Harry. Hermione was absorbed in her work (which was spread out over an entire table) and Ginny was across the room sitting on a plush scarlet armchair. Ginny kept coming over to ask, "Who do you fancy?" Hermione was shooting her glares every so often from interrupting her pressing work.

After about fifteen minutes of glares and stares Ron came down from his dormitory and ended up right behind Ginny on the couch right when Ginny pestered Hermione with her question of the day. Ron asked, "You fancy somebody?" Ginny went into her bag to retrieve something and then turned around and showed him a slip of paper without saying anything. Hermione immediately knew what it was and she watched Ron's eyes dart over the scrap two times over and waited for his reaction.

She knew it was going to be big. She was expecting something big. It wasn't as if she hadn't disregarded the past and his past reactions and behaviors. She had recognized the signs; it was just down to them being real or delusions. Hermione had a faint knowing of everything, but she wasn't sure if something was truly there. As he stood there he seemed kind of strained, but not mad. She thought, "At least he's not mad, at least he's not mad…"

Ginny called over a whole load of people in the room, "Hey Hermione, who do you fancy?"

"Nobody! Now leave me alone!"

"Come on, you can't write that without liking someone," Ron backed Ginny up in an exasperated tone.

"I've thought about it, and yes I can. I mean look at the sentence. 'I get to see him today.' That could be referring to a number of things."

"Like what," Ginny crossed her arms, "I'm waiting."

"Well, it could be talking about Harry or..."

"Who do you like?" she asked as a response to her utter disbelief of Hermione's answer.

"I'm not telling you!" Hermione exclaimed as she started packing up her bag.

"So you do fancy somebody?"

"I never said that!" She packed up her books and papers, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked out without bidding them goodbye leaving Ginny with a disappointed face and Ron in a somewhat dejected state.

Hermione walked where her stomach told her to go…the Great Hall. It was the tail end of dinner and people were starting to trickle out. As she made her way through some stew and bread she felt somebody tap her on the shoulder. "Who do you fancy?" She recognized the guttural voice. It wasn't Ginny, but Ron.

"If I'm not going to tell Ginny, what makes you think I'll tell you?" Hermione asked him.

"But I'm your friend." He pouted and cocked his head to one side, trying to look as innocent as possible.

She laughed, "Well, you are a guy and Ginny's…not." Hermione turned back to her nourishment and for possibly the first time, Ron walked away from food.

…

Hermione's supposed fancying of somebody was the subject of gossip during theafternoon Charms lesson. She heard them whispering. In fact, she wasn't surprised what with Ginny reading that sentence out aloud in the halls ("Guess what Hermione wrote! You think that she likes someone too, right?") and discussing the matter with every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw she knew during lunchtime. She had taken the liberty to try to get every person she knew to wheedle it out of Hermione. Ginny even asked Harry. They were all shocked that she had human emotion. It was almost as if they had assumed that she was a robot, or something of that nature--if it wasn't for the fact that most of the Hogwarts attendees had no clue what robots are.

Hermione shook her head at this notion. If only they knew.

They were in Charms and Flitwick was usually pretty lenient about talking in his class, so naturally it was very loud and Ron kept bombarding Hermione with the question she had heard about a million times already, "Who do you fancy?" The thing about that was he was all the way across the room. She appreciated his…concern but now it was giving her a migraine. It made it impossible to study or concentrate, but on the inside, she did admit, she liked the attention from Ron. Still, it was reaching an unbearable point. Unbearable yet enjoyable.

It seemed to get to Hannah Abbot too. She was sitting in front of Hermione and said, "Leave her alone. Come on, do you like somebody?"

Ron paused for a moment and then looked at me straight into my eyes, "No."

"He's lying, Hermione." She then turned around and went back to her work. That shut him up. Hermione was slightly sad but at least she could concentrate. Well, not really. The whole class had started badgering her. At the end of Charms he went over to her and asked one last time as everybody else was flooding out, "Who do you like…just tell me." This was just one time too many. In her mind it was now or never to end all of everything.

She stood up and looked him straight in the eye with as much conviction as she could muster, "You know what? Fine, I'll tell you. I like you. I fancy you. I'm madly in love with you! Is that what you wanted to hear? Because it's true." He looked at her as if she was about to say "April Fool's!" and have it all be a big joke but she didn't. He didn't utter a word so she shook her head and said, "Goodbye Ron. Have a lovely…something. Day? Week? Month? Lifetime? I don't know…I guess something without more than just a platonic relationship between me and you in it." She sighed and turned around just so he wouldn't catch the tears that were threatening to fall pass her eyes.

Hermione left the room and Ron just stood there, with his feet rooted to the floor. He was staring at the door in which she had just passed through, taking in the remnants of what he had smelled in Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world; Hermione.

A/N: This story is a lot less fluffy than "A Night for the Truth" and it is five pages of me getting a kick out of everything. I don't know if it was the least bit funny to you, but I found it somewhat amusing—maybe that's just because I've experienced it all in real life (after the Hannah Abott part things get really twisted, though…she really shut him up for good that year).

P.S. Believe me, I love Ron/Hermione for all it is worth (it is one of the best ships ever—I'm even known for going into long tangents with Harry/Hermione shippers about how they are meant to be), but I needed to break free from the cute little perfect ending where everything turns out okay and they kiss only to skip off merrily into the distance…so for the time being, this is a one-shot. Ron and Hermione have to have a little unrequited love, a want, something missing in their life.