A/N: To Rachel, who always finds a way to reign in my runaway commas and puts up with my bouts of sugar-induced delirium. And , as always, to Parker.

Disclaimer: Due to the fact that I do not live in England , am not richer than the Queen of England and do not have enough genius to come up with this - all that you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just manipulate the characters to do my bidding.

Sorry for the long gap between updates, I had serious writer's block on this one.

A Moment Too Late

Hermione's POV

It is amazing how you could know someone for years and just wake up one day and see them in a completely different light.

It was quite shocking actually on that summer day before my fifth year when I realized I was in love with my best friend.

It wasn't actually that simple. Nothing with Ron was ever that simple.

We had fought the night before. He walked into the room I shared with Ginny when I was in the middle of writing a letter to Viktor. I failed to comprehend Ron's innate aversion to Viktor. Ron practically kissed the very ground Viktor walked on when we were at the Quidditch World Cup, but as soon as Viktor came to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Cup Ron acted like he was the enemy.

The letter inexplicably infuriated Ron, sending him off on a half-crazed tangent shouting about Viktor not being good enough for me.

It was one of the worst fights we ever had. When I managed to force Ron out the doorway, I finally took Viktor up on his offer to stay with him and that night I packed my clothes and was off to spend a week in Bulgaria.

It didn't go quite as well as I had hoped.

Don't get me wrong, I had a very enjoyable time. It just wasn't the fairytale escape I had hoped for.

On my second night there, I was hopelessly homesick for the Burrow. This didn't surprise me; The Burrow felt like home, I missed it whenever I was away. It was what I missed the most that surprised me.

Sure, I missed staying up all night talking to Ginny, I missed Mrs. Weasley's cooking, I missed how when I was with them I finally felt like I belonged.

But above all, I missed Ron.

I missed everything about him.

From the way he shoved every crumb of food in sight into his mouth to his crazed obsession with Quidditch to his unwavering faith in the Chudley Cannons. I missed the way he would effortlessly slaughter me and Harry in chess and the look on his face when Ginny shouted "checkmate" before Ron had the slightest clue it was coming.

I missed the way his smile could make my heart race and my knees weaken.

I missed the way his mere presence made time slow and the entire world melt away.

I missed the way he made me feel...real. Like maybe I was worth something after all.

When I was with Ron, I felt like I was more than just a muggleborn. Like when he looked at me he saw me for who I was, not just for my bushy hair and buckteeth and all of the books I hid behind.

With Ron, I never had to hide.

Love.

A simple four-letter word, only one syllable - but then why was it impossible for me to understand?

Why was it impossible for anyone to explain why some people would spend their entire lives looking for it only to be disappointed by it, while others seemed to have it all along? I read about it in books, but no matter how much I researched it I could never quite wrap my mind around the concept. In theory, it seemed...well, nothing short of amazing, but in all practicality, when it came to me...

I was afraid of it.

I was afraid of trusting someone that much.

The thing about prople was that they always let you down. I had learned that much when I was a child. As soon as you had expectations, you made room for someone to let you down, and trust would melt into dissapointment.

But I had trusted Ron, and he had never let me down.

But that didn't mean I loved him.

The only thing I was sure of was that I needed to get back to Ron where things made sense.

Before I was even fully aware of what I was doing, I had lugged my trunk into the fireplace where I shouted a frenzied apology and good-bye to Viktor and dipped my fist into the pot of floo powder sitting on the mantle.

By now, Viktor had heard my feeble attempts at what I had hoped to be a graceful exit, had rushed into the sitting room and was currenty staring at me like I was a wackspurt or a nargle or another one of the ridiculous creatures Luna's always going on about come to life before his very eyes.

"Herm-o-ninny..." Viktor protested, blinking at me increduously.

"The Burrow," was my only response before I felt the flames glow green and envelope my body.

"Oof," I groaned as I stumbled unceremoniously out of the Weasley's fireplace and landed flat on my face on the slightly charred carpet.

"'Mione?" A voice as familiar as my own asked in disbelief as he hoisted me upright and back into a standing position.

"Ron!" For once, I bit back my uncertainties and wrapped my arms around him.

A tiny part of me (okay, a rather large part) was scared to death that we would have a repeat of that last disasterous attempt at embracing in our third year - when Ron patted my head - but to my relief (and I have to admit: slight astonishment) he slipped his arms around my waist.

Just as I had begun to realize just how right it felt to be held in Ron's arms, a twin pair of whistles rent the air. Ron's head snapped up, heat rising on his cheeks and swiftly spreading to color his ears.

"Aww... Look Gred!"

"Yeah, Forge?"

"Ickle Ronniekins is growing up!" George jeered in a perfect impersonation of a proud Molly Weasley.

"Shut up," Ron groaned, but Fred and George mercilessly ignored his protests.

"You mean he's realized that girls don't actually have cooties?!?"

"I think he's realized that Hermione's actually a girl!"

"George..." Ron begged the twins to end their teasing.

"Aww... little Ron's got a girlfriend," They chorused.

I could tell from the warmth spreading over my cheeks that they probably matched Ron's, which had turned scarlet in frustration.

"It's just Hermione," Ron objected.

"Ron and Hermione sitting in a tree..." The twins sang.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Ron's voice was rising at an alarming rate.

"...K-i-s-s-i-n-g..."

I felt like I should say something to aid Ron's argument, after all, I had come back to clear the air between us, not to be the cause of a new fight. I could try to pretend I didn't have feelings for him or lie and declare that our feelings were merely platonic. I could try to imagine what I would say if I wasn't standing here wishing that Ron would say he cared about me as more than a friend, but words were lost on my tongue as Ron spoke.

"We're just friends!" Ron nearly shouted. "Hermione is not my girlfriend, we are - and always will be -just friends."

His words rang out with such finalty that they seemed to linger in the air. I felt my last hopes for Ron loving me slip through my fingers, much like a child watching their balloon float to the sky and realizing moments too late, that they didn't hold on tight enough.

"Just friends." Ron's statement reverberated through my mind, each syllable cut deeper, stinging with unendurable reality. Tears blurred my vision, twisting and contorting shapes until even Ron was an unrecognisable stranger.

But I would not cry.

Not in front of him.

Not now that I had fled from Viktor and run into Ron's arms with my delusional dream that maybe today he would wake up and realize how he really felt about me.

Not now that he had declared he never would.

I knew that biting my cheek would not keep my tears contained underneath my eyelids any longer, so I did the only thing I seemed to know how to do anymore: I turned and ran.

I heard him calling after me, but willed one foot in front of the other. I would not turn around and explain what was wrong. I would not make it that simple for him.

"Hermione..." I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him as I ignored the tears shining on my cheeks.

He could not take back his words; he could not make everything alright.

It was too late.

A/N: Please Review!