J.K. Rowling's. I'm not her.

"So, Ron. I don't know, I suppose it could work if I wanted it to. It almost fits, and it really wouldn't take all that much more to make it work. I don't know, though. This voice in the back of my head just keeps crying out for Draco, and I don't know what to do with it. I just want him to understand everything, and I want him to... I don't know. I want him to come back to me."

"Hermione."

She turned so quickly she nearly forgot to shut the journal. Upon seeing the owner of the voice, though, she supressed a sigh.

"Hey, Ron," she said softly.

"How are things?" he asked, peering at her journal.

She held the book close to her and replied, "They're just fine, thanks. And yours?"

"They're just fine." He smiled broadly at her, and Hermione felt her heart tug just a little at her chest. Surely she couldn't do this to Ron. Surely she couldn't do this to Draco. Surely she couldn't do this to herself.

Then she felt Ron's hand in hers, and she felt her hand enclose around his. She felt his thumb run along hers, and she felt her own thumb do the same to his. She saw him smile, and she felt her own mouth reciprocate.

But inside, she didn't really feel it.

It seemed she hadn't felt much since Draco.

"So how's the Weasel?" came a cruel voice from behind her on the way out of Potions class.

Hermione's heart jumped in her chest at Draco's words. "It's nothing," she responded.

"Didn't seem like nothing in the library this morning," he responded coldly. "It seemed quite... close."

Hermione looked up at him. His eyes were cold and silvery. His jaw was set in a firm line. He looked just as he had when they first began: Pureblooded arrogant. She fought her sudden urge to kiss him.

"It's really nothing," she said quietly. "He's a friend."

"You don't flirt with, hold hands with, or kiss a friend, Love," he responded coldly.

But I don't kiss him like I kissed you. "I suppose not," she replied out loud.

"So at least we both got what we wanted out of that project, right?" His voice was almost agreeable again. Hermione decided she was only imagining it.

"What's that?" she replied, vaguely hopeful.

"Good marks."

Her face fell. "Right," she responded.

"Why, what did you think I'd say?" he asked, slightly amused in a not entirely cruel way.

Each other. "Wasn't sure, really."

"You're not saying what's on your mind, Hermione," he stated.

Her heart jumped. "What do you mean?" she asked softly, looking away.

"You're not being truthful with me."

She said nothing at first. It was then she realized they had come to a stop in a little cove within a corridor. She vaguely wondered when she had quit walking.

"And how do you know that?" she finally asked.

"You forget," he replied, touching her cheek softly but quickly with his thumb. Hermione felt a jolt run through her as he leaned forward to whisper: "I know you."

Their eyes locked. They were only standing a few inches apart. Just a few more inches, and... Draco turned and left. Hermione gazed silently after him, touching her cheek where his hand had been.

"He's right, of course. I love him. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone, but I can't tell him that. He probably just wants me to say so so he can have the opportunity to make a fool of me in front of everyone. He just wants that opportunity to reject me. Why did it all come to this?"

Hermione again felt the tears in her eyes. She gazed out onto the water of the lake. The geese had long flown south for the winter. The water was barren and still. She sighed.

Knowing she couldn't count on Draco to come see her, she stood to leave.

She thought she saw or heard something, but she convinced herself it must have been the wind.

She walked away just in time for Draco to come around the tree to look after her. Assuming she had heard and simply ignored him, however, Draco just turned to watch the lake in all its stillness. Maybe there he'd find some peace.

That night at dinner, Ron sat next to her. She smiled politely as he sat and vaguely noticed him holding her hand. She wished she could care a bit more for him, but the sad fact was she just didn't. She didn't know how to tell him.

He looked at her all through dinner. His eyes were glimmery and shining, and his voice was set in that tone designated only for those one truly loves. Hermione noticed all of this, but she couldn't return it. She felt terrible.

She looked across the Great Hall, and there he was. His eyes were an intense questioning, and they bore into her. She shrank beneath his gaze, blushing deeply yet unable to look away.

Then Ron put his arm around her shoulder, and the moment was gone. Draco looked adamantly away from her and did not make contact again.

Hermione again had to fight back her tears.

"How how are things with Ron?" Ginny asked her later that night.

"Things with Ron?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Come on, 'Mione," the girl replied, rolling her eyes. "Surely you've noticed how coupley you two have been."

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose so," she replied.

Ginny looked at her quizzically.

The girls sat in silence for a moment.

"He loves you. You know that, right?"

Hermione looked down. "Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even like him?" The girl's voice bordered on accusatory.

Hermione couldn't reply.

Ginny took her by the shoulders and met her eyes. "Look, 'Mione, you know you're like a sister to me." Hermione nodded. "But if you lead him on, if you act like you're into this and you're not? It'll be ugly." Hermione caught a glimpse of the fiery Weasley temper in the flash of fire from Ginny's eyes.

Hermione backed away slightly. "So then I should discuss this with him?"

Ginny gave no answer. She just pointed to the redheaded boy in the corner.

Hermione took her cue.

"Hey, Ron?" she said as she approached him.

His face lit up. "Hey, 'Mione," he responded.

"Can we talk?" she asked uncertainly.

"Of course." He jumped off his chair. "Let's go."

With that, she followed him out the portrait hole.

They walked silently until they reached the door to the castle. It was nearing nighttime, but they still had a good bit of daylight left.

"So," Ron said, "what was it you wanted to talk about?"

Hermione didn't reply at first. Then she turned and said, "What do you think's happening with us?"

Ron looked taken aback. "I don't know," he muttered. "I mean, I know what I want to happen, but I know none of this means the same to you as it does for me."

Hermione nodded silently.

"So then why act like it does?" he asked bitterly, his eyes flashing a bit.

Hermione recoiled slightly. "I don't know," she said. "I suppose I just didn't want to hurt you."

"It hurts worse thinking I have a chance and finding out I don't," he responded quietly.

Tears of sympathy sprang to Hermione's eyes. She placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. He looked up at her. "Ron," she said softly, "you're a wonderful person." She sighed. "I just... I can't be involved with anyone right now." He looked back down.

"Anyone but him, you mean." His voice was so soft she barely heard him.

She paused as soon as she registered his words.

"Hermione," he said, "it's not that you don't love me that hurts all that much."

Hermione looked at him, waiting for the rest.

"It's that I can see you love him like I love you." Tears came to his eyes, as he added, "And I'd rather die than see you love someone who refuses to love you back."

Hermione's tears spilled over then, and Ron hugged her.

"I love you," he said. Pausing and considering his words, he added, "I love you almost as much as I care for you as a friend."

Hermione smiled. "I care about you too, Ron."

He smiled in return.

The pair turned to go.

"'Mione," he said suddenly, reaching for her arm. She turned.

"If he ever hurts you," he said, his eyes flashing, "I'll kill him."

Hermione blinked without response.

Ron shrugged. "Just so you know."

Shaking her head with a slight smile, Hermione followed him into Hogwarts.

A/N: Again, please just stick with it. And let me know what you think!