I smiled as I nestled up next to Ron, burying my face in his chest as his arms went around me. I felt a calm begin to come over me as his hand slowly rubbed back and forth in leisurely circles across my back. Closing my eyes, I focused on the rise and fall of his chest against my cheek as he breathed in and out and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in my ear. I felt my internal dialogue quieting as my anxiety melted away in his arms. This is Ron, I said to myself. My Ron. Ronald Weasley. My best friend. There was no one I trusted more than him.

I pulled back to look at him. This was the boy I had been dreaming about for years. Imperfect as he was, I couldn't imagine myself with anybody else. He had been my knight in rusted armor. He'd taken on a mountain troll for me, stood up to Malfoy for me, defended me in classes on numerous occasions. He was brave and loyal and passionate. He looked out for me and cared about me, though he often had a strange way of showing it. Sometimes his insecurity got the best of him and caused all sorts of odd behavior.

Ron had a tendency to doubt himself, always comparing himself to others, trying to measure up to his brothers, his friends, even his enemies. Although he often second-guessed his own abilities, I knew how clever he could be when he really tried. It's what made me constantly push him to work on his homework, to try harder in class. I knew what he was capable of.

It was most evident when he was absorbed in a game of wizard's chess, an area in which his confidence soared. I loved watching him play; his brow furrowing with a look of intense concentration; his strong, assured tone of voice as he ordered his pieces across the board; how he'd run his hands through his hair while he strategized, causing it to stick up at odd angles; the way the corner of his mouth lifted each time he made a particularly clever move. Nobody stood a chance against him. Even I, who prided myself on my logic, had lost to him more times than I'd like to count. I didn't mind it. Well…maybe just a little. Accepting defeat wasn't my strong suit. In fact, I tended to avoid the things I wasn't good at. I hated that feeling of failure more than almost anything else. But, somehow, when Ron asked me to, I would always consent to play, even knowing I would lose. It was worth it just to see the look of pride on his face when he won.

He was brilliant and funny and kind. No one could make me laugh the way he could. No one could make my blood boil the way he could either, and not always in a pleasant way. We spent half our lives at each other's throats. He could be tactless and impulsive, often saying the wrong thing and rarely apologizing. His stubbornness rivaled my own. But, he challenged me to look at things in a different way, to see what was really important. He showed me the big picture when I got too caught up in the details and he pushed me to step outside my comfort zone. No one else could have gotten me on that broomstick today.

I knew I challenged him, too, always pushing him to be his best. We challenged each other, and there was something exciting about being near him, even when we were rowing. Maybe even especially then. Because I knew that no matter how often we fought, he would still be there. He saw right through me, flaws and all, and accepted me for who I was. I didn't have to be 'perfect' Hermione Granger around him. I could just be me.

And maybe that meant I could be honest, too. I leaned back, propping myself on my elbow before opening my mouth to speak. "Ron," I began, but he cut me off.

"Wait, Hermione," he said quickly, pulling himself up to a sitting position. "I need to tell you something."

Feeling suddenly worried, I sat up as well. I swiped at my disheveled hair, attempting to smooth it back into the hair tie it had, by now, almost entirely escaped from. My mind raced through all the possibilities of what he could want to tell me, none of them very good, as I waited for Ron to speak again.

I had to wait awhile, however. Though he had seemed eager enough to talk at first, he now sat silent, avoiding my eyes, while his ears turned a burning shade of scarlet. I suppressed a smile at the sight of this. It was another trait of his that I couldn't help but find endearing.

"Ron?" I prompted after some minutes of silence.

Finally, he looked up at me, rubbing the back of his neck as he began, "Look, Hermione, I didn't bring you out here just to go flying."

"Okay…" I said slowly. What is he saying?

Now his entire face flushed red as he began to stammer, "No wait, I didn't bring you out here for – that is, to – I mean, it wasn't like I planned…" He huffed out a breath of air, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Let me start over," he said, looking at me pleadingly.

I felt myself growing increasingly anxious the longer he prolonged this speech, wondering what terrible disclosure he was building up to. Wrapping my arms around myself protectively, I looked him in the eye and said, "Just rip the band-aid off, Ron."

He looked puzzled. "The what?" he asked.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "It's a Muggle expression. It means just get it over with."

"Oh," he said, a baffled look still on his face. His momentary confusion seemed to have distracted him from the subject.

"Ron?" I reminded him, "You needed to tell me something?"

"Right," he said. "Well, what I was saying was that I, uh, wanted to bring you out here…so that we could have someplace to talk – you know, privately – because, well, I wanted to tell you – that, erm…" he paused, looking at me.

His eyes held a strange mixture of emotion. I tried to decipher his expression but found it nearly impossible. What was that look on his face? Fear? Nerves? Certainly, but there was something else. I couldn't quite place it. He seemed almost in pain, but as his eyes locked with mine, I saw something in their depths that drew me to him like a magnet. I couldn't imagine what could be going through his mind at that moment.

He took in a shaky breath, his gaze never wavering as he said quietly, "Hermione, I'm in love with you."

There was a pause as his words took a moment to sink in. I felt a wave of pressure surge out from my chest, running through my veins, down my limbs to the tips of my fingers and toes, tingling up my neck to my scalp. Blinking, I felt the breath leave my body as my vision dimmed momentarily before returning, white spots blurring my eyes. My ears were ringing and my tongue felt numb. I touched a hand to my neck, the throbbing in my fingertips keeping time with the pulse at my throat.

Then the pressure seemed to release itself and I found I could breathe normally again. Suddenly, I felt like bursting out laughing. I glanced up at Ron's terrified face, smiling as I took one of his hands in my own. Turning it over, I smoothed out his long fingers, bending to place a kiss on his palm before curling his hand around mine and looking up at him again.

"Ron…" I began, but had to pause as a sudden surge of nerves caused my throat to close up involuntarily. Swallowing, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the butterflies back down. I didn't know why I was so nervous when he had already just told me that he loves me. He loves me, I thought. I felt a thrill go through me at the words.Gathering my courage, I met his eyes again and blurted out the secret I'd been keeping for a long time. "I'm in love with you, too."

I watched the fear and doubt flee from Ron's eyes to be replaced by a look of elation as his mouth burst into a wide grin.

"Brilliant," he breathed, then kissed me soundly.

I clung to him, my hands moving urgently, wrapping around his neck, tangling in his hair, grasping at his shoulders, his arms, his back. I let my mouth speak for me, not in words but in the insistent pressure of my lips against his, telling him all the things I'd kept hidden for so long – the things I had been so afraid to reveal. This kiss felt different than the ones we had shared before. It felt as if a wall between us was crumbling, a wall built of fear and blame and misunderstanding. As it came crashing down, I could suddenly see things so clearly. It all seemed so simple. We belonged together. This felt natural, this felt right. It was just him and me and none of the rest of it mattered. I couldn't believe how long it had taken us to get to this point. So much wasted time, so many missed opportunities.

My legs slid off the ground as he pulled me closer to him, lifting me onto his lap. I felt his arms around my waist, his strong hands clutching at my hips, pressing against my back. I pulled back, gasping, to look into his face. His lips were swollen, blue eyes shining as he gazed at me, breathless. As I met his eyes, an understanding passed between us, going beyond words. I knew he felt it too.

His hand lifted to brush through my unruly hair before resting against my flushed cheek. I licked my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest. Then he made a low sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a growl, and suddenly his lips were on mine again, warm and soft and perfect. He kissed me slowly, deliberately, his tongue moving sensuously against my own. I felt drunk on the taste of him, overwhelmed by the unbelievable feeling of being so close to him.

I'm not sure how long we stayed that way, arms wrapped around each other as our lips explored this new territory. I seemed to have lost all track of time. Eventually we pulled apart, breathing heavily as we looked at each other with flushed faces and sparkling eyes.

"Have I ever told you how bloody brilliant you are?" he asked hoarsely, kissing my nose before grinning down at me.

I laughed. "Maybe once or twice," I said, beaming at him.

His expression mirrored my own as I finally slid off his lap, scooting in next to him as he grasped my hand, entwining his fingers with mine.

I felt suddenly ravenous. Looking around, I noted the mess we'd made of our picnic. Pulling out my wand, I muttered a few words, cleaning up the spilled juice, smoothing out the blanket and setting the food back to rights.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him.

"Starving," he said.

We set to, a comfortable silence falling between us. Goofy smiles were plastered on each of our faces as we ate, sneaking looks at one another intermittently. I knew we probably looked ridiculous but I didn't care. Overflowing with happiness, nothing mattered to me in that moment except that I was there with my favorite person in the world and that he shared my feelings.