On a warm summer day, most creatures were lazing around, basking in the bright sunlight. But the Weasley household was anything but calm. Bill and Fleur's wedding was to be held in the garden later that very day, and Mrs. Weasley was rushing about, making sure things were perfect. "No, no, those flowers go on the table! These are supposed to go over there!" Ron Weasley, her youngest son, was up in his room with best friend Harry Potter, trying to avoid all the fuss.

Ron checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes and sighed.

"Mate, she's going to come. Don't worry." Harry grinned knowingly. He knew that Ron was anxiously awaiting the arrival of their mutual best friend, Hermione Granger. Harry was glad to see her again, too, but not like Ron was. Harry knew that Ron had liked Hermione as more than a friend for a long time now. Maybe even the whole time they'd known each other. He also knew that Hermione liked Ron back, but she didn't want to admit it, even to herself. Harry hoped that being together for this pompous occasion might bring out some hidden feelings.

"I know," said Ron, like he didn't really care, but he did. He couldn't wait to see Hermione again. He missed her big brown eyes that he often lost himself in, her soft brown hair that he had once thought "bushy" but now thought was her most beautiful asset, and most of all he missed just seeing her face. Ron was sure he'd burst if he had to wait much longer.

"Harry! Ron!" Fred Weasley called up the stairs, and Ron tore out of the room before Harry could even stand up. When he got downstairs, he saw the fireplace glow bright green as she stepped out. There she was. Hermione had finally arrived. Ron threw his arms around her in what he hoped would only be taken as a friendly gesture and said, "Hermione! We've missed you!"

"It’s only been 2 weeks, Ron, honestly," she replied, hugging him right back. Then she let go of him (much to his disappointment) and hugged Harry, too. Ron looked at her. Her brown hair was even lovelier than he had remembered. She had it up in two small clips, beautifully framing her face. She was wearing a pale yellow top that was quite revealing for Hermione's standards and a plain white skirt that almost reached her knees. Ron sighed inwardly, thinking how wonderful she was in every way.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley called, rushing into the room to get her hug. "Oh, dear. You look so skinny. We'll have to get you something to eat." She turned back toward the kitchen.

"No, really, that's all right, Mrs. Weasley. I just ate lunch before I came." She smiled warmly, and Molly smiled right back, shaking her head.

"Well… you'll be sleeping in Ginny's room, Hermione," Ron said to her. He started up the stairs and she followed. When they reached Ginny's door, Harry knocked softly.

"Ginny? Hermione's here. She needs to unpack and get settled in." Ginny opened the door and greeted Hermione with yet another hug. Both girls walked into the room, already chatting about what they were going to wear that afternoon. Harry led Ron back up to the room they were sharing, Ron's room. It was covered in Chudley Cannons posters, and he even had a bright orange bedspread with the team's logo on it. The boys sat back down at the small table where a game of wizard's chess sat unfinished. "What time is it?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron looked over at the clock on his bedside table. "4:38, why?" he replied. Then he slapped his forehead. "Doh! Mum asked us to be dressed and downstairs by five!" He walked over to his closet and pulled out dress robes for both of them. "At least mum's letting me wear something normal for this occasion."

Harry grinned, remembering the disaster of the ball that was held during their fourth year at Hogwarts. He took his own dress robes from Ron and pulled off his shirt. "Do you know what Ginny's wearing?" he asked, trying to sound casual. He pulled his robes over his head so Ron couldn't see his face; he could just feel it going all red.
"No, and why should I care?" Ron asked, annoyed. He himself was having a bit of trouble. "Um… Harry? Can you help me?" Harry turned and saw that Ron had gotten himself hopelessly tangled up in his robes. Harry laughed and straightened him out. "Thanks, mate. Now… shall we go down now? It's nearly five." Harry nodded and they both walked out of the room.

Meanwhile, in the girls' room, Ginny was talking a mile a minute as Hermione unpacked her clothes. "So what are you going to wear?" she asked excitedly.

Hermione pulled out something soft and silky in an ivory colour. "This is what my parents got for me to wear. I'm really not sure, though…" Ginny jumped off the bed and rushed over.

"This is beautiful!" she said, taking the dress from Hermione. "You HAVE to wear this. Wait until Ron sees you." Hermione tried to keep herself from going red, and Ginny laughed. "Yes, Hermione. It's quite obvious that you like my brother."

"I do not!" Hermione said indignantly, feeling redder than Ginny's hair. She turned around and pulled a few pairs of shorts from her bag. She heard Ginny say, "Mm-hm" in a knowing way and turned around, admitting defeat. "All right. Have it your way. I suppose… I suppose I do fancy him. A bit."

Ginny laughed out loud. "A bit? Haha… Well, Hermione, let's get you into that sexy dress and downstairs!" She smiled triumphantly. Hermione gave in and put on the dress. When she came in to show Ginny, the youngest Weasley's mouth actually dropped open. "Wow, Hermione! You look stunning!" Hermione smiled self-consciously, smoothing out a wrinkle in the dress.

"You really like it?"

"Of course! Now let's get going, mum wants us down there by five to help set up."

Ron was setting some flowers on a small, round table that looked as though it sat about half a person when he heard someone coming down the stairs behind him. He turned around, and what he saw took his breath away. It was Hermione, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She must have charmed her hair to stay in place, because her small ponytail didn't seem to be held up by anything but magic. Her dress was the most amazing thing Ron had ever seen: it was long and silky, and seemed to hug every curve of her body. She had paired it with a pearl necklace and two silver bracelets around each delicate wrist. She had a small smile on her face, like she wasn't so sure about herself. Ron figured Ginny had talked her into wearing this dress. Remind me to thank her later, Ron thought to himself.

"Hey, Hermione. Hi, Ginny." Harry greeted the girls with a wave, and Ron managed to squeak out a "hi" before Mrs. Weasley rushed both girls out to the garden to help Fleur get ready. Ginny was a bridesmaid (which she wasn't very happy about), but Hermione was just a guest. Luckily, Ron hadn't been chosen to help with the ceremony, either. And he'd been seated next to Hermione! He finished arranging the flowers in a way that he hoped would suit his mum and headed outside.

Ginny and Hermione had just helped a positively giddy Fleur into her wedding gown and make-up. As they exited the bride’s tent area, Hermione caught sight of Ron making his way across the garden toward them. She waved, and he turned red as he waved back. “How’s Fleur doing?” he called to them, making his way carefully through the roses.

“All right. She’s a bit nervous, but she couldn’t be happier,” Ginny called back. Ron had almost made it through the prickly roses by then, but his robes caught on one and he fell clean over. Hermione rushed over to help him up.
“Are you all right, Ron?” she asked, a worried expression on her face. She could hear Ginny snickering in the background.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll be fine,” he replied, pulling thorns and leaves out of his hair. She reached up and plucked a leaf from the top of his head and handed it to him.

She grinned. “Good to hear.” Then she walked toward the house to get ready herself. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder, waving.

Ginny walked over to Ron and smiled knowingly, a look that Ron had come to despise. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what?” he spat back indignantly.

“You fell over in the bushes so dear Hermione would come and help you. Looking needy: girls do it all the time.” She struggled to hold back laughter at what she knew was coming. And come it did, as Ron’s face turned redder than his hair.

“I did not!” Ron yelled, so red now that Ginny expected steam to come pouring out of his ears. “It was Mum’s bloody roses!”

Ginny smiled that smile again and walked into the house after Hermione, and Ron wandered over to a clearing surrounded by trees. There was an old stone bench shaded by a weeping willow, and tulips were blooming all around. He sat down and began thinking.

He had thought many times about bringing Hermione here, and showing her the beauty of this “secret garden.” He knew how much she loved flowers, and maybe- just maybe- he would work up the nerve to tell her something that had been gnawing at him for quite a while: Ron was in love with Hermione. He just didn’t know how to tell her. Millions of what-ifs swarmed through his head: What if she doesn’t like me back? What if I ruin our friendship? What if, what if, what if?

Finally he decided that this wasn’t worth driving himself mad over. He had to tell her. But how, and when, and where? He could answer the second and third easily: ASAP and here. This was the perfect place for confessing something like that, his mother had always said. His father had proposed to her in a place just like this, and that was the reason she had designed it this way. Molly had recently planted some moss roses in one corner, under the fountain that was bubbling happily.

He had to tell her soon. After the wedding, maybe? While everyone else was celebrating, he could ask to see her for a moment and bring her here. And then… well, then he’d have to tell her. Nothing else mattered anymore. He had to tell her.

********************

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said to Bill. He leaned closer to Fleur and kisses her lips softly. Cheers and whistles broke out from the crowd, and the newlyweds smiled as they walked back up the aisle. Rice and confetti was thrown as they made their way toward the other side of the garden, where the reception was to be held.
The party was sure to go on for ages, Ron thought, but he mustn’t waste time. He would have a bit of cake, make sure he didn’t have any frosting on his face, and then talk to Hermione. Harry has asked earlier for what seemed like the millionth time that summer when he was going to tell Hermione how he felt about her. Until now, he had responded with a red face and a change of subject. But before the boys had walked down to the wedding, Ron had told Harry about his plan. Harry had patted him on the back and said, “Good luck, mate. I know she feels the same way.” Ron had then turned a very sick shade of green at the prospect of Harry being wrong.

Now that he was actually going to do it, Ron felt even less sure about the situation. All the what if’s floated back into his head. As he got in line to get some wedding cake, Harry came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, mate. I know it will,” he said with an encouraging smile. Ron nodded, unable to speak.

********************

“Her- Hermione, could I talk to you for a minute?” Ron asked. Hermione looked worried, but followed Ron as he walked toward the clearing in the woods.

“Where are we going, Ron?” Hermione asked, not sounding worried, but rather like she was enjoying this. Ron was walking ahead of her, but kept checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there.

When they reached the clearing, Hermione gasped. “It’s so beautiful, Ron!” He smiled nervously and sat down on the stone bench. He patted the seat next to him, inviting her to sit next to him.

“I… I wanted to ask you something, Hermione. Well, really tell you something.” He sounded so scared that Hermione put her hand on top of his, concerned.

“What is it, Ron?”

“Well… God, how do I say this? See… I really like you, Hermione, and I hoped that you like me too.” He said the end of this statement so quickly that she barely understood him. Of course, it could have been partly what he said that shocked her.

She looked into his deep blue eyes and saw something she had never seen before. There was fear in those eyes, but also something else. Something Hermione was pretty sure she recognized: love. Her face broke out into a smile and she gripped Ron’s hand tighter than before. “I like you, too, Ron. Actually… I think… I love you.”

Ron couldn’t believe his ears. Hermione liked him, too? Loved him, even? This was too good to be true. He reached out and pinched his arm, hard, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Ow!” Hermione giggled, and he felt his face become redder yet. “I was just trying to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” he said, rubbing his arm.

“You’re not, Ron,” she said, looking up at him with big, chocolate brown eyes that were full of love. “I’m really here, and so are you.” She smiled so beautifully that Ron couldn’t resist anymore. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

A jolt of electricity seemed to shoot through both of them, making them shiver. Ron pulled away and looked at Hermione. She grinned again and leaned toward him.
This is going to be the greatest summer ever, Ron thought.