A/N: Thanks so much for reading so far - we're finally approaching the finale! Enjoy!

The time had come. The cast took their places on stage, and the curtain was about to rise. There was a certain 'calm before the storm' mentality that took root in the moments before showtime, a time when everyone was vibrating with excited, nervous energy.

Those moments never failed to fill Hermione with wonder. She stood backstage, surveying all of the work that had gone into making the production happen. Gazing over the meticulously painted set pieces, she smiled, the pre-show jittery rush shooting through her body. She glanced over to the mirror in the wings, the whites of her teeth popping in contrast to her thick green face paint. It was an odd juxtaposition but one that felt strangely comforting to her. To an extent, she'd always felt a bit different, so playing a character that was noticeably different from the rest didn't phase her; in fact, it invigorated her.

As her eyes shifted to the opposite side of the stage, they stopped when they landed on Ron. His princely costume fit him like a glove, and anyone would have to admit that he looked extremely handsome. Lavender's words rang through her head no matter how hard she tried to put them from her mind and focus. But when his gaze caught hers and he offered a wave and a small, lopsided grin, a pang of excitement and anxiety swept through her. Nonetheless, she returned the smile as her heart rate sped up and her mind fixated on the scenes she would be sharing with him.

They'd run into each other backstage while everyone was preparing, and they simply offered each other quick well wishes before continuing to get ready for the performance. Keeping it light and breezy was the best way to shield herself from whatever happened next. Once the show was over, there would be nothing keeping them from hanging out together regularly, and she simply had no clue what that would mean in the long run. Maybe they'd stay friends. Maybe they'd continue going to Mario's every Friday night. Or maybe they'd fall by the wayside, resigned to occasionally bumping into each other and trying to remember each other's schedules and ambitions.

No, that would never happen. He knows me too well for that. We have too much history to just suddenly be out of each other's lives.

But it's happened before. How much did I really know about his life over the past year and a half before he rejoined the musical?

Even then, we still talked. Maybe it wasn't the same as it was before, but it wasn't like he had become a stranger.

He may as well have been. How much did we really have to discuss when we ran into each other?

To be fair, he apologized for that, though. Right at the beginning of the show, he admitted that he hadn't been a great friend lately. That has to mean something.

It counts for something, sure, but it doesn't make up for it. The fact of the matter is that he demonstrated his true preferences with his actions, and his words can't erase that.

But what about what Lavender said? She's usually pretty smart about these types of things.

Really? He's been weird around me for a month and now I should just buy into the fact that he likes me because Lavender said?

Ugh, this is the last thing I should be thinking about before this performance!

The lights backstage pumped up and down a few times, indicating that the show would be starting in two minutes. Hermione took one more look in the mirror, checking to make sure her wig was still on straight. Her fingers ran over the broomstick leaning up against the wall, her favorite prop from the entire show. Even though the big night had arrived, sometimes she still felt like her excitement over the role was still sinking in. Elphaba in Wicked as a high school junior. Despite all the heartache, it had still been an experience she'd never forget. If only it would end on a positive note.

Opening notes from the overture blasted out into the auditorium, and she watched as the faces of her friends suddenly became serious and focused. A few minutes later, the curtain rose and the show began, perfectly choreographed movements and all. Hermione was not in the very first scene, instead watching with pride from the wings as the show unfolded. Everyone was on point, and things were going spectacularly.

When it was finally her turn to go on stage, she took a deep breath and stepped out, the bright spotlight causing her to squint for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the light. No matter how many shows she'd done, the first glare in her eyes was always shocking. Once she was on the stage, though, she immediately fell into a rhythm, the lines and music coming as naturally as breathing.

And it wasn't just her. Scene after scene went perfectly, and they were having none of the small blips and errors that had occurred during the dress rehearsals. And when Ron finally made his entrance, it was clear from the start that he was in peak form.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken as he launched into his opening number, Dancing Through Life, his voice effortlessly rising and falling as he brought his easy charm to the role. The song seemed like it was tailor-made for him. Once the dance portion of the song started, his movements were crisp and precise, and she had to shake her head to snap out of the trance induced by his mesmerizing hip movements. As hard as it was to imagine that every girl in the audience was likely falling in love with him at the moment, it was probably also true. He was just that charismatic.

After sharing a few flawless scenes with him and hitting her high notes in Defying Gravity at the end of the first act, it was time for intermission. Everyone was buzzing backstage, and Mrs. Trelawney couldn't stop showering them with early compliments. After a quick freshening of her makeup and adjustment to her costume, Hermione stepped back out toward the stage, taking her place and trying to clear her mind as she waited for her entrance.

A few minutes before the show was set to resume, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. She spun backward toward the source of the tension only to find Ron's ocean-blue eyes staring back at her.

"Hey," he said, "nice work so far."

It took a moment for the shock to wear off, but she cleared her throat and nodded at him. "Yeah, thanks, you too."

"Thanks. Hey, I just wanted to…you know, what we were talking about last night. The duet."

"Umm," she stammered, swallowing hard, "what about it?"

"I'm sorry it's been…weird. You've been one of my best friends for years, and I–well, I guess I think I just didn't expect…ugh, why can't I explain this?" he growled.

Best friends. And that's all we'll ever be. Why did I ever let myself believe otherwise?

She kept her sigh to herself along with her disappointment, placing a hand on his arm and forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Hey, I get it. It's fine."

"It's not fine. This show is too good and you're too good in it for me not to be at my best. I'm sorry I ever gave you a reason to think otherwise. So a few scenes from now when it's time, I'm going for it, okay?"

A spark of hope shot through her, but it quickly fizzled.

It's just a performance. Never forget that it's just a performance.

"Oh, y–yeah, sure, okay."

"Okay? That's okay with you?"

"Absolutely."

"Great. You're doing amazing, Hermione. Not that I'm surprised."

"Not–not so bad yourself."

With one last smile, he was gone, ducking backstage to finish his preparations for the second act and leaving her all alone and yet again ruminating his words. He'd made his intentions clear, but at least he was being honest with her. That had to count for something.

Tenth Grade

January 15th

Dear Diary,

Let me just start by explaining that I might be more emotional than usual at the moment. I've used you, diary, to good effect over the years, spilling my innermost thoughts and venting when needed. You've seen the best of me and the worst of me, or at least what I thought was the worst of me until recently. But at the moment, I feel about as low as I ever have.

All because Ron screwed me over.

Okay, I'll try to present a semi-objective version of things here. He didn't screw ME over, he screwed US over, all of us in the musical theater department.

The cast list for the show went up last week. I got a medium-sized part, which is fine. I'm happy with where I am, and I know that next year I'll have more opportunities as all the girls with better parts than me will graduate (besides Lavender, but that's a whole other diary entry). Ron, on the other hand, got one of the best boy's parts in the entire show. When I texted him that night to congratulate him, he hadn't even seen it.

I'll repeat myself, he HADN'T. EVEN. SEEN IT.

Who doesn't even check the cast list? And it wasn't like I texted him four seconds after it showed up online. I was out to dinner with my family and wasn't allowed to check my phone until an hour or so after Mrs. Trelawney posted it and didn't text him until an hour later when I got home.

So that should've been my first clue, but unfortunately, I was just too trusting of Ron Weasley. Big mistake, I've now learned.

Anyway, I showed up to rehearsal on the first day pretty excited. He was there too, but he was on his phone the whole time, no doubt texting football players about how lame we all were. Sure, he sat with me and we talked a bit, but I had no idea what kind of sabotage was actually going through his head. So rehearsal started and we were going over some music. He was singing along, but kind of half-heartedly. I remember elbowing him a few times and having to show him where we were on the page because he so clearly wasn't paying attention. All signs I should've keyed in on, no doubt.

Once rehearsal was over, I saw him tuck into Mrs. Trelawney's office with her. I thought it was weird because he looked like he wanted to leave as soon as possible, but then he ended up staying and talking with her for what must've been a while. I waited around for five or ten minutes as I was going to offer him a ride home, but he never came out.

It wasn't even until the next day that I found out what happened. I ran into Mrs. Trelawney in the hall between classes and she said something like, "Oh, what a shame about Ron." I had no idea what she was talking about, but then she clarified that he'd QUIT THE SHOW the day before and wouldn't be taking part this year. I swear to God, I couldn't tell if I wanted to cry or find him and slap him. Mostly slap him. It felt like such a betrayal, I could barely concentrate the rest of the day.

He ended up finding me at lunch and telling me but only because I think he could already tell I was upset. He kept trying to tell me about how it was so hard to balance everything and his heart just wasn't in it, but honestly, it just felt like a bunch of bullshit excuses. I told him it was pretty crappy of him to get a part and then bail like that, but he said his mind was made up. He apologized (as if that really mattered) and went back to sit with his jock friends.

It's like he didn't even consider how important this was to me and everyone else who auditioned. Like we should be honored to be in his presence. He's good, but nobody's irreplaceable.

So now I'm sitting home alone, staring at these pictures I have of us having fun over the years and wanting to just fucking burn them. I don't know what happened with him and it's absolutely eating me up inside. Part of me wants to go over to his house and beg him to come back. Another part wants to go over there and scream at him. Yet another part wants to delete his number and draw my curtains for the next two and a half years and just forget he exists.

But I can't. He means too much to me. No, you know what, scratch that. He MEANT too much to me. Now I don't know what he means or what he even cares about, but it's not me. It's not me and it'll never be me. All of those stupid fantasies I used to have…well, never mind. It's ancient history.

At least Hannah's still doing the show. That means I'll have one good friend around. And I know it'll still be fun once we get into it. But for now? I just feel so empty.

Ugh, great, now there are literal tear stains in my diary. How cliche can I be? And all over someone who obviously isn't worth the anxiety given his recent behavior.

I wish there was a way to fast-forward through the hard parts. That's life, I guess, but why do the people you care about most have to make it harder sometimes?

Love, Hermione Granger, Age 16

As the first few scenes of the second act passed, Hermione felt an expanding knot in her stomach. The closer it got to her duet with Ron, the more she couldn't help thinking about it. Fortunately, she knew her part so well that even with half of her mind occupied, she still gave an excellent performance.

Towards the end of the scene right before their duet, the two of them ran off the stage together hand in hand as Lavender stayed behind to finish her portion. As they waited backstage, Hermione couldn't help but notice that Ron never let go of her, keeping their fingers laced together as they watched from the wings.

It's probably just because we have to go back out holding hands as well.

Her heart was pounding as the scene ended, the lights went dark, and the music began. Just as they'd practiced time and time again, they raced to the front of the stage and knelt down, much closer to each other than they ever had been. Well, besides the time they'd rehearsed in her bedroom, at least.

The spotlight shined down on them and the fog machine added its suspenseful ambiance as she started singing, and almost immediately, Ron's hands were untangling themselves from hers and sliding up her arms. When they reached her face, his thumb and forefinger applied gentle pressure on her chin to urge her gaze back to his. They locked eyes, and she instantly recognized the fire and passion he'd put into those first couple of rehearsals. His stare was intoxicating, and she shivered as he reached around behind her, splaying his fingers over the small of her back and pulling her closer.

As she finished the refrain, her arms flew around him and ran up his shoulders. She traced her nails over the fragile skin of the back of his neck, completing a few circles as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. Hand cradling her cheek, he opened his eyes. For a split second, all she could feel was love and affection streaming out of him before he turned and started to sing.

"Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise…"

Everything felt like it had during that first rehearsal. They had sat in the same positions one month ago and presented the scene with equal passion and vigor, a perfect representation of their characters' longing for one another. It felt as though something that was lost had been found, and Hermione would do anything she had to in order to hold onto it.

The song progressed, and the two never left each other's grasp. When they started singing together, they both rose to their knees, Ron's fingers digging into her hips as she held onto his flexed bicep. His hands found hers as the music softened, and he lifted one to his lips, pressing soft kisses over her knuckles between lyrics. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress, but it did nothing to stop the goosebumps from popping up all the way to her shoulders.

He was close enough to her that she could feel his breath on her cheeks when he sang his final notes, and as the song wound to a close, she glanced back up at him. The smile on his face could've melted her heart; everything else around her was drowned out. All the people, the rest of the cast and crew, the sets, the lights, the music…all of it evaporated from her mind. She sang, and he sang, and they sounded perfect together. Nothing else mattered–or even existed–as long as he was looking at her that way.

The final words of the duet were spoken, and as soon as Hermione had finished, Ron leaned forward, his lips finding hers. Before she had a chance to respond, he had wrapped her in a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping her with surprising tenderness. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she pressed back against him, hands flying up to caress the rough stubble on his cheeks. When she parted her lips, he wasted no time, and their tongues wrestled together to deepen the kiss.

Faintly, the sound of applause echoed from behind her, but for once in her life, she couldn't have cared less about the adulation. All she wanted was more of him.

Of course, the show had to go on. As they separated, she caught one more glint in his eye before he turned away. Something about that split-second glimpse told her that he also wished they could continue far from the prying eyes of a captive audience. There was a longing that didn't seem character-driven—it seemed inherently Ron.

Maybe something had changed within him. Could it be that their performance had awakened feelings in him the same way it had in her? It almost seemed too good to be true, but there definitely seemed to be more of him than Fiyero on that stage. She'd felt it before when they first started rehearsing the scene, and to have it back in her life was more than a little thrilling.

But in the end, she knew she was probably just grasping at straws. The energy of a show amplified all emotions, and she didn't want to misinterpret the feeling coursing through her body as false affection. She couldn't let herself get swept away. Ron was performing. He was an actor playing a part. So was she, even if her character's wishes and her own happened to intertwine. Not only was she kidding herself to think he was interested, but they were in the middle of a performance! It was no time to become distracted!

"I just wish…" Hermione continued, standing up as she continued her dialogue.

"What?" Ron asked as he followed her across the stage.

She turned back toward him, tapping into the tricks she'd learned to coax a single tear from her eyes. "I wish I could be beautiful…for you."

"Elphaba…"

"Please don't tell me that I am! You don't need to lie to me."

The stage directions in the script said that as soon as Elphaba said that line, Fiyero was supposed to charge over to her and grab her hands as he pleaded with her to see how much she meant to him. Ron, ever the intuitive actor, took it one step farther, his strong hands grabbing her shoulders as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Oh my God, he's driving me absolutely crazy.

Their gazes met and Hermione felt her knees weaken under the intensity of his glare. "It's not lying," he continued, tucking a few strands of her wig behind her ear. "It's…looking at things another way. Someday, you and Glinda will–"

A scream offstage pierced the tension hanging between them as they returned to acting the remainder of the scene as they'd rehearsed. Their brief foray off script had left an indelible impression on her, though, and by the time the scene ended and she ran offstage to prepare for her next entrance, her brain was spinning. The line between Hermione and her character had never been blurrier, and as much as she tried to convince herself that it was all down to his superior acting skills, she couldn't help but wonder whether his lines mirrored his real life thoughts as well. At least, she hoped that might be the case.

Ron joined her a second later, picking up her hand as he passed and giving it a quick squeeze. His fingers sent a surge of electricity through her entire body, and she couldn't help but grin back at him.

"Great job," he said, a pink tinge evident on his cheeks despite the dark lighting.

"Y–You too."

"Hey…do you think–"

"Hermione, you're up!" the stage manager loudly whispered, shooing her back out toward the waiting spotlight.

Do I think what? What was he going to say? Was he…oh God, did he like it too?!

No, Hermione! He's just acting! Acting! Get a grip!

Even if she wanted to, there was no time to ponder the dilemma, though, as she forcefully shoved the rest of her emotions to the back of her mind. Lavender was already on stage performing the first lines of the next scene, and Hermione needed to concentrate. There were still several scenes left, and it wouldn't do to deliver a mediocre ending to the show just because she was flustered by her co-star.

Silently, she made a pact with herself.

Focus now, figure it out later.