Since he was so tall, Ron had no trouble following Hermione's bushy head through the school corridors... unfortunately, this also made it easy to see him coming, a particularly useful tool for his best female friend, since she seemed to spend all her time avoiding him these days.

Their eyes met for a moment as she glanced behind her nervously before ducking around a corner and into the sanctuary of the library. Ron almost growled in frustration.

It had been four days since The Incident (as Ginny had taken to calling it), and he hadn't spoken to Hermione since. Things were rocky with Lavender too, (In an effort to protect Ron from his girlfriend's wrath, Ginny had posed to her Hermione's theory about the love potion being too strong for Lavender's kiss to work, but she had only seemed slightly mollified.) but Ron couldn't really find it in himself to care. Truthfully, things with Lavender had been over since before they began. While he'd been initially flattered by her interest in him, he knew now that he'd never had real romantic feelings for her; certainly nothing that could be described as true love.

Of course, neither Lavender nor Ginny knew what had happened that day in the Hospital Wing. If they had, Lavender would have dumped him for sure. Ginny probably wouldn't have believed it. Ron barely believed it.

The curse of the love potion wasn't only that it made the drinker do stupid (and sometimes dangerous) things, it was that once the potion wore off, the drinker was left with the crystal clear memories of the way he had acted under its influence. And that meant that while Ron's memories of the way he had acted that night were enough to make his ears go red with embarrassment, it also meant that he could remember, in absolute detail, the moment when Hermione's lips had met his.

When she'd kissed him he'd been half-asleep, not even aware of her presence, but the effect it had had on his confused and lovesick mind had been something akin to sunlight burning away the fog in his brain. He remembered opening his eyes and being utterly stunned by what he saw, Hermione's smooth skin, the dark fringes of her eyelashes. When she'd pulled away, blushing and stuttering, Ron's first thought was that he might have dreamed the whole thing.

But Madam Pomfrey never gave him the antidote.

Since he retained his memories of the entire Incident, Ron knew exactly what that meant. Hadn't he been right there in the common room as Hermione and Ginny explained that only the kiss of someone he had true feelings for could halt the potion's effects?

It wasn't entirely surprising to Ron, at least, not once he'd gotten his head on straight. He'd suspected that he might feel more than friendship for Hermione the moment she'd walked into the Yule Ball on the arm of Victor Krum, looking so incredibly perfect that Ron had suffered an agonizing knot of jealousy in his stomach for the rest of the night. After that, the signs had begun adding up. The way he'd barely minded cleaning for hours in Grimmauld Place two summers ago as long as she was talking and laughing beside him. The way he'd woken in the Hospital Wing after the Department of Mysteries last year in pain and panicking, until he'd seen her, awake and watching him, from the next bed. The way his bitterness about the Slug Club had melted into hope when she'd invited him to the Christmas party. Yes, he'd been in love with Hermione Granger for a long time.

Only now, she knew it.

That was the part that turned Ron's stomach. She had to have known, had to have seen it in his eyes when the love spell was broken... but why did she run? Was it because she didn't return his feelings—the feelings that potions lore actually referred to as true love—and she couldn't bear to tell him? Or perhaps she was ashamed to admit that she had feelings for him too; after all, Hermione could have that smarmy (admittedly handsome) git McLaggen whenever she wanted. She could have International Quidditch star Viktor Krum... she could probably have Harry. Why would she want him, Ron, in the first place?

But if that was true, why had she kissed him?

Ron couldn't figure it out, and although he was finally ready to swallow his pride and just ask her, it seemed she wasn't ready to be asked. She spent most of her time locked away in the girls' dormitories over the past few days, and when she wasn't she sat as far from him as possible during their shared classes, never ate in the Great Hall while he was eating, and practically ran in the other direction when she spotted him in the corridors.

Leaning against the wall opposite the library doors, a surge of determination burned through him and he entered the library, voluntarily, for the first time since he'd taken his O.W.L.s. The place was silent, as usual, the air smelling of dust and old books, the lighting oddly dim for a place where students were expected to read.

Ron headed for the back of the library, passing bookshelf after bookshelf and peering down each row as he passed, looking for a face that was more familiar to him than his own by now. Finally he found her, at a table by herself in the back corner, chin propped up on her hand. He'd spent enough time watching her read over the years to see that while there was a thick and dusty tome laid open in front of her, she wasn't absorbing a word of it.

He stepped into the small circle of brightness radiating from the table lamp, and the sound of his footsteps made her look up, startled and dismayed. Quickly she shut the book and shouldered her bag, but Ron grabbed the bag's strap as she tried to stand up. "I just wanna talk." he whispered.

"Shh!" she scolded, although his voice had been quiet. In Madam Pince's library, even the barest of whispers were considered a distraction, and Hermione was, of course, a stickler for library rules.

"I wanna talk." Ron said again, in an even lower voice. He sat down beside her and slowly let go of her bag, holding his hands out in front of him in a calming gesture.

"Fine." Hermione sighed, setting her bag back down and busying herself with smoothing down her frizzy hair. "What do you want to talk about?" She wasn't meeting his eyes.

"You kissed me." Ron answered without preamble.

She looked up, clearly startled by his bluntness. Even in the dim light Ron could see the blush staining her cheeks. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

Ron swallowed hard. She was sorry? "Well, why'd you do it then?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse with disappointment.

She must have taken it for anger because tears suddenly welled in her eyes. Grabbing her bag again, she stood up. "I don't know! I didn't mean to, okay? I just, I saw you lying there, and I was worried about you-" Her voice had grown louder and more watery, and Madam Pince herself hurried over from the next aisle to shush her.

Hermione sank back into her seat, and both teens shrank back and apologized under the librarian's withering glare. When she left, they sat side by side in silence for a long moment.

"Madam Pomfrey didn't give me the potion." Ron said quietly.

"I... I thought, maybe... that's what happened." she said, biting her lip, her features twisting into an unreadable expression.

Ron leaned forward despite feeling the heat rushing to his ears. "I... I know you know what that means."

Hermione didn't say anything for what felt like minutes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ron summoned his courage and grinned at her. "For the same reason you didn't tell me?" he guessed boldly.

"Because lately I've been spending all my time with Lavender's tongue in my mouth?" she shot back promptly and pointedly.

Ron choked back a laugh as she folded her arms across her chest with a self-satisfied expression, knowing that she had him there. "Not exactly." he conceded. "Because... because you're my best friend. And because I always thought that, maybe... Viktor Krum... or, or Harry-"

"Honestly, Ron!" she cut him off. "I've loved you for years. Not Viktor Krum, and certainly never Harry!"

Ron could only stare at her. "What did you say?"

"I... said... Not Harry..." she said, meeting his eyes with a feeble smile.

That was good enough for Ron, and he felt he owed it to her to say something too. "Well, you already know that I love you... the potion, right? And I, er, I have for a long time too. Probably since second year." He couldn't stop grinning; he wondered if the smile would be permanently plastered to his face.

She was evidently pleased, since she just managed to stifle what Ron could only describe as a giggle. "You have not, Ronald Weasley."

"Have." Ron said, realizing with a heady feeling that he was flirtingwith Hermione. "You're the only girl I've ever burped slugs for."

Now Hermione was grinning too. Merlin, her smile was beautiful. "Thatwas an accident." she reminded him, prodding him in the chest. "You didn't mean to do it!"

"I meant to defend your honor." he pointed out, reaching up and trapping her hand against his chest with his own larger one, and feeling grateful and emboldened when she didn't pull away.

He was rewarded with another blush. "Your chivalry was appreciated." she said. She was leaning forward slightly, and he wondered if she was doing it consciously.

Whether she was or not, Ron took it for the opportunity that it was. He bent forward as well, cupping her face with his free hand. He heard her breath hitch as he touched her and looked at her in wonder. "Thanks for saving me from the love potion, Hermione." She raised her eyebrows and he added, "No, really. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Hermione breathed, as he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her.

The kiss was just as chaste as their first, but now time seemed to stop, the moments stretching on and on... Ron had no idea how long they'd been kissing when she finally pulled away, flushed and smiling, and (he was happy to see) not looking at all apt to run away this time.

"Well..." she said, looking a bit flustered, as though her thoughts had been scattered and she was hunting for words. "Well, someone had to do something, it wasn't working for Lavender." she finally came out with. A hint of bitterness had crept into her voice, and Ron could tell that despite his confessions, despite the way he kissed her, there was still something bothering her... and he thought he knew what.

"Well, thanks for trying before Harry." Ron joked, and she smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. He sighed. "Hermione, I have to tell you something."

She raised her eyebrows and nodded for him to go on.

"I... I only went out with Lavender because I thought it might make you jealous." Ron confessed in a rush. "I know I'm nothing special, but I just thought that... that if you saw that Lav fancied me, you'd see me as... as something more than just your friend."

Hermione frowned. "But you are something special." she said, and he felt his chest tighten, as though she had physically taken his heart in her hand and squeezed it. Before he could say anything, she continued, "You're the one who only saw me as a friend. I mean, back in fourth year you made it sound like it was impossible that any boy would want to take me to the ball, let alone you."

"I was stupid in fourth year." Ron said softly. "Hell, I've always been stupid."

"I didn't say that!" Hermione said. "I thought we were past all this, Ron. I thought, when I asked you to Slughorn's party, that it meant... you know, a proper date. I thought you understood how I felt about you."

"Hermione-" Ron breathed.

"But then you started dating Lavender." she went on, "I mean, I thought you might be trying to make me jealous, but then you stayed with her for weeks, and then months, and I eventually thought... well, that I was mistaken, that maybe you really did love her." Her voice wavered slightly. "And then you took the love potion, and I thought, when she kissed you... it would prove everything. It would prove that I didn't have a chance anymore."

"No." Ron said hoarsely, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm. "No, no. It's always been you, Hermione. I only kissed Lavender to make you jealous, but then I couldn't figure out how to break up with her without hurting her feelings... Suppose Romilda took care of that for me, yeah?" he finished with a hopeful smile.

Hermione shook her head fondly. "You know you've got to end it with her properly, Ron." she said. "At least, you do if you want to come to Professor Slughorn's next party with me."

Ron grinned at her, feeling as if a huge weight had just lifted off his chest- the secret of his feelings for Hermione. "Was that an invitation?" he asked. "Because, you know, the last time you asked me to one of Slughorn's parties, you weren't exactly clear, I mean, you could have been a little more precise as to-"

Hermione stood up, rolling her eyes as she hefted her bag over her shoulder, and leaned in towards him, cutting him off. "As my date." she whispered into his ear, the feel of her hot breath causing a blush to spread all the way down his neck. Then, with a mischievous little smile, she flounced out of the library without looking back. Eyes wide, he leaned all the way back in his chair to watch her go, both unwilling and completely unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.

"Bloody hell."

A/N: The end! If you enjoyed it at all, please leave me a review. Thanks so much for reading!