A/N:

Oh my, I didn't see the tenth review so this came later than it should have… Don't worry… I'll carry it over next update.. I promise.

Disclaimer: Not mine..:D

Words

By Heaven'sSweetSymphonies

Chapter 1- Confessions

With a start and a barely heard curse, a bushy-haired girl woke up and looked groggily at her surroundings. The brightness of the red and gold of her bedchamber only served to fuel her already potent aggression.

Taking a huge breath, she fought the overwhelming waves of frustration every single time she had a moment free of schoolwork, worries about the war and Head Girl duties. To get her mind off the issues, she got off her bed and surveyed her room. What she observed really disturbed her — a mess.

Not for the first time, she said a general thank you that she was alone in her room for she noticed that she had, once again, left her diary open for the entire world to see, on her desktop.

Quickly, like a hunted animal she moved from the spot where she was frozen and almost sprinted to her study table. With a downward glance at her diary, she sighed and picked it up.

As she was about to close her diary and put it back in its place, she looked at her latest entry. She saw how peculiar her handwriting looked. It was messy and harried; so unlike her usual neat and precise penmanship.

She heaved a huge sigh for the severity of the situation. She had wished for the longest time that she might enable herself, albeit temporarily, the ability to forget. But looking at how affected her writing, her room and, in general, her life had become she could no longer plead ignorance The inevitability was there- the "Ron" situation had caught up to her life in ways that she couldn't control.

Running a hand through her wild, brown hair, she mumbled, "Not that I would have it any other way."

Heaving a huge sigh she looked back down at her diary and peered at it intently before forcefully closing it. She made a move to open her drawer and, maybe, keep her diary when something drew her to look at the clock on top of mantelpiece. She noted that she had a couple of hours before she had to get ready for school on that fine Monday morning.

Being the ever diligent Hermione, she had already accomplished her homework for that day and the next; she had already fixed her bag with all the books she would require and she had made the whole week's table of prefect duties.

Needless to say she had two choices to pass the time. She could either go back to fitful and restless sleep or crack open her diary and write. As it was obvious that nothing could compel her to go back to sleep, she had only one other option.

With a semi-apprehensive look and an incredulous grin, Hermione snatched up her quill from its position on top of the desk. She also grabbed the ink bottle and, with her diary held tightly to her chest, went down to the Head common room.

She plopped down on the comfortable red sofa Indian style with a pillow on her lap, the ink bottle beside her to her right and began to write:

I woke up feeling so tired and guilty today. I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the fact that I've been having some really exasperate thoughts about a certain Ronald Weasley these past few days and especially last night, come to think of it.

I seriously can not believe that I had honestly considered or even thought about confronting him regarding our situation. As bossy as I sometimes come across (and I do admit that I might be bossy), I could not possibly imagine myself doing anything that harsh and blunt. I mean, I love the lad with such passion,so you would think that I understand how he is when it comes to things like this. Look at the Lav-Lav-Won-Won situation and you'll know what I'm talking about.

I know that Ron isn't the most sensitive of people, and I look back and remember the "teaspoon" and "blunt axe" comments and I know I'm right. He must have feelings for he seems to really care for his family and his friends. And, of course I feel that he really cares about me. But, he may be really sensitive and the only thing that stands in his way of manifesting it is the fear of being teased by his five older brothers.

Obviously, I didn't help very much by being so sensitive to everything that went on between us and him being ignorant of my feelings. We did clash too often. I look into everything that's happened these past few years and the ways that Ronald and I have interacted and I can note that we did seem to fight a lot.

I cringe in embarrassment just thinking about how people must have seen me as totally immature in my dealings with him. But then again, I wasn't entirely to be blamed— he hadn't been the most mature person either.

I guess I shouldn't have answered fire with more fire. All I know is that I'm glad we've managed through all that chaos to stay pretty good friends even after all the fights, arguments, and accusations. Now there's the prospect of there being more

Oh, the shivers really tingle up and down my spine incessantly whenever I think about Ron as more than a friend. It's like I've discovered the missing page of a precious book. Like adding the last ingredient in a potion to make it effective. Like the perfect wrist movement to cast a spell correctly.

To make the long story short, I know that being with him or even just thinking of being with him makes everything in this mixed-up world I live in seem so perfect.

Perfect. What a word to say when the danger that lurks is far too palpable to ignore or avoid. Yet no matter that such an idealistic point of view is idiotic at a time like this, I know that no other word would feel so right.

I only wish he'd tell me. I wish that my perfect dreams will end up the perfect reality. I wish that he'd gather his Gryffindor courage and admit to me his feelings.

I know, I know… you're probably wondering why I'm so certain he feels the way I say he feels. You're probably wondering how come I know that he loves me the way that I love him. You're probably wondering why I'm dead sure he is just hiding feelings instead of them being non-existent.

Why? I'd go insane if I don't hold on to this small spark of hope that something right is going on— that I might just be special in his life.

And I'd rather be expelled from Hogwarts than go mental.

--Hermione

If Hermione had hoped that writing in her diary would ease her burdens, she was wrong. True, to a certain extent some weight had been lifted from her shoulders but the ever-lingering pain was still there. She highly doubted that it would ever go away. At least, not until she had what she needed.

She looked at the golden wall clock above the fireplace and saw, with a roll of her eyes, that she had only been writing for half an hour. This meant that it was still far too early to do anything. Dreadfully early though it was, Hermione was already starting to feel miserable.

A noise startled her and she looked warily behind her. Hermione's eyes widened as she saw her best friend coming down the stairs from his bedroom.

"Morning, Hermione. Up early, aren't we?" Harry said with a sleepy smile.

"Morning to you too, Harry. As I can see, you're up early too," Hermione rejoined good- naturedly.

"Early night, you know!" sprung up Harry's reply. With a sly grin in Hermione's direction, he continued, "Not that I can say the same for you."

Hermione's head snapped up at the comment and she blurted out rather guiltily, "Why do you say that, Harry?"

"Well, I woke up in the middle of the night as I needed to use the loo. I saw light coming from an oil lamp through the cracks of your bedroom door," explained Harry.

Hermione replied defensively, "I might have just gone to the loo too, you know!"

Harry burst out laughing, "You're a witch, Hermione. Why would you need an oil lamp to get to the bathroom? And, besides, does going to the bathroom really explain why I heard the scratch of quill on paper?"

Hermione huffed, annoyed, yet with one glance at the incredulous look on Harry's face she gave up. "All right, all right! You win. I confess. I did stay up really late last night, writing." After saying this, she glanced at her diary, which she had placed on top of the table in front of her.

Harry glanced at said diary and back at Hermione when he saw her sigh and her whole body look like it seemed to collapse. The concern was immediate and Harry sprinted from the stairs to come to a stop in front of the sofa and Hermione on it.

He reached out his hand and grasped Hermione's shoulder as he sat down beside her. Eyebrows furrowed, he squeezed her shoulder to offer comfort. "Hermione? What's wrong? What happened? Are you all right?" asked Harry, worry obvious in the tone of his voice.

"Oh Harry…" Hermione's speech was suddenly cut off when, with one look at Harry's anxious face, she succumbed to the sobs that had been threatening to come out for the longest time.

Harry was shocked at Hermione's sudden outburst for no apparent reason. He had not suspected that something so serious was bothering her that she would give in to tears.

Nevertheless, the hand on her shoulder gently pushed her so she was looking directly into his eyes. He wanted to get her to talk about whatever was bothering her. He felt that releasing it and talking about it was the only thing that could help her.

She looked up at him with her eyes watery and more tears threatening to fall. His other hand flew to the side of her face and wiped the tears off her cheek. "Hermione? Tell me what's wrong, please. I want to help you," Harry pleaded gently.

Hermione was still looking at him and the tears that were overwhelming to fall increased. Harry, seeing that she was too upset to talk moved closer and gathered her in his arms to offer some unspoken support.

This was enough to send Hermione over the edge again and, with no concern for his pyjamas, she drowned herself in the warm reassurance her best friend gave her freely. She allowed herself the opportunity to let go, if only to ease some of the weight in her heart.

She cried until she could cry no more; Harry, all the time with his hands on her back rubbing it to offer comfort. After a good, ten-minute cry, Hermione moved away from the tenderness of Harry's arms and, slightly embarrassed, dabbed at her eyes just to avoid Harry's gaze.

Harry looked at her and stood up. Without a word he walked to the small table beside the hearth and poured a glass of water from the pitcher found there.

He walked back to where he had left his best friend and silently offered the glass to her. Hermione looked up and grabbed the water gratefully. She grabbed one of his hands with her free one and pulled him so he would sit back down. Recognizing the gesture, Harry sat down and squeezed the hand still in his.

Hermione smiled weakly and after drinking half of the contents of the glass she said, "Thank you so much, Harry. The hug, the water, the support. I really needed them right now."

"I was glad to do anything and everything to help you Hermione… We're friends. But now that you seem fine can you tell me what's wrong? What was the reason behind your crying fit?" queried Harry encouragingly.

Slowly Hermione stretched her legs out of the Indian-style position and leaned forward to carefully set down her glass. She stared at it thoughtfully as though it held the answer to all her problems.

Suddenly as though just awakened from a trance, she snapped her gaze off of the water and fell back into the softness of the sofa. She closed her eyes and Harry respected that she needed the time to think.

She opened her eyes looked at Harry and heaved a huge sigh. She saw how his head was inclined to the right and read the unspoken question in his eyes.

"Oh, Harry… Where to begin? I don't know, do I look horrible?" she asked jokingly.

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't answer the question.

Hermione, seeing that stalling was useless just blurted out, "It's Ron."

Harry was startled and some anger could be seen in his green eyes. "What about him? What did he do to you?"

"Harry, he really didn't do anything to me."

"Then why is he the problem?"

"I don't know. I mean… Oh you know… I, uhh, like him."

"As more than a friend, I reckon."

A sigh and a nod.

"So why is that a problem?"

"Well, you know…"

"I thought you two were together."

A sigh and a shake of the head.

"You mean you aren't together? But you got together before Ginny and I did."

"I'm really sorry Harry, but that was a ploy."

"A ploy? What kind of ploy?"

"Well, we talked about the two of you and we knew that you liked each other. We reckoned that if Ron and I were together a lot you'd come around and ask Ginny out. Or in your case, kiss her…"

"What!"

"Well it worked, didn't it?"

"I guess. But why aren't you a couple? Didn't you agree to be 'together'?"

"We didn't agree to be together, we agreed simply to spend more time together. I thought that with the time we were to spend together, it would somehow result in us being 'together.'"

"But it didn't."

A sigh and a rueful smile.

"Hermione, you've got to tell him."

"I can't be like Lavander, Harry."

"But---"

"I have dreams of being wooed, Harry. Just like every other girl on this planet."

"But---"

"I know, Harry. I've thought about it, too. But I want to run the risk that he'll tell me before the war erupts. I was really kind of hoping that the pressure of perhaps having less time on earth would force him to tell me sooner."

"He really likes you, Hermione. He'll come around."

"I hope so, Harry."

"Don't worry, Hermione! He won't dawdle for long."

"But Harry—"

"Yes?"

"I don't just like him…"

"Huh?"

"I love him."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"Someone's knocking."

"I know."

In unison and similar wide eyes, "Wait, someone's knocking."

And there were only two people in the world, who would visit them at that time of day.


So who is it? Tell me!

I know that it was corny the way I had all dialogue at the end but I couldn't think of any way to express in better. And, this chapter is subject to a revamp so do not be alarmed if I change it… The thought will remain the same.

A big thanks to my precious reviewers:
Snow-Leopard-Patronus, With Love x, Thilda-Liv, mandy, reptileXtitch, Dueler312, paulalou, LitaFanForLife, LaughSpazm, MrsGrint105.

Thank you guys so much.. I hope you keep on supporting me.

To all my new reviewers ( Hmm… assumptions.) I'll give you a shout-out next time if you leave a review.

Anyway, my two-week update stands.. (minus 2 days for this one since I didn't see the 10th review on time.)

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