“I’ve been staring at you for five minutes and thirty seven seconds now. It has reached the point that every single thing about you sends masses of little flips straight from my brain to my stomach and I can’t concentrate on anything else except you.
You sit there fluffing your hair, and pretending that everything that happened in the Quidditch game was directly a result of you, and that everyone should lavish you with praise, and when they do, you have a distinct look of pleasure in your eyes. Sometimes I think I see that look when you look at me, but I can never be sure, I’m too afraid to ask.
You see, I’ve fancied you for far too long now. I don’t understand what is wrong with me- I know, in fact, I’m completely certain that I want something to happen with you. Maybe it will just be that you say you feel the same way. Or maybe you’ll want me to kiss your cheek a few more times than usual, and for no particular reason, except that you’re you. Or maybe you’ll want to hold me as much as I want to hold you, and that we can walk around, proudly claiming each other as our own. I want whatever you want.
You’re walking over to me now, and you wave at me, grin, because you’ve been subject to so much attention, and then roll your eyes, telling me that I do far too much homework. ‘Come and join the party!’ you say to me, and I don’t think I want to. I like sitting here, watching your moves, and thinking about how much I want to go up to you and whisper in your ear ‘I like you so much, Ron.’ Maybe I’ll do it later.
Now you’re walking away, muttering something about how I do far too much homework, and that I should give Arithmancy a break and spend more time with you and Harry. What you don’t know, is that I’m always spending time with you. I sit here thinking about all the things I want to do and say to you, but am too afraid to do. Maybe I’ll do it later. I want to watch you some more.
You know, you saved me from a troll, you’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry, and have made me feel so incredible. Sometimes, when you seem angry about Viktor, I think maybe it’s because you’re jealous. I really doubt it though, because I don’t think you’d ever like me in that way. Maybe if I tell you later that I want to hold your hand and stare at you forever, then you can see how much Viktor doesn’t matter in the scheme of things.
Perhaps I’ll give this piece of paper to you as well. So you can see how much I really do like you, and that every spare moment of my time is completely dedicated to doodling your name over and over on scrap parchment, and just thinking about how wonderful you are. You’re coming back towards me now, and you open your mouth to say something.
I don’t listen the first time you speak to me, because I’m badly thinking about how much I want to take your mouth and brush it against mine, and tell you how I really feel. Huh, I say. You speak to me again, this time saying ‘Hermione, I want you to come with me, and have some fun. Stop working, please come and be with me!’ Ron, if you knew what I was thinking about, you’d know I have been with you the whole time. I stand up and leave, because it would eat away at my conscience if I were to say no to you wanting my company. I want your company too bad to deny you mine.
I sit back down now, and you have gone, it has been three hours. I can’t really think properly right now, your company has forced me into a state of bliss which can only be matched by something as fantastic as, ohh, it can’t be matched at all. We went and ate food a bit, and laughed politely with everyone, and I couldn’t stop looking at you, and the way you played with your hands that I wanted to hold so badly, and then throw me an occasional grin. I would grin back, nervously. I wanted you to know that I like you, but I also don’t want you to know incase you didn’t feel the same. I don’t worry now though.
As the crowd dwindled, and congratulated you many more times for your spectacular win for the team, you seemed to want to be with me more, and I decided that I can’t take this anymore. You have to know, I can’t spend another day with these feelings bottling up inside. I was surprised when you came up very close to me and asked me to dance with you to the song on the Wizarding Wireless. I thought you didn’t dance. But any excuse to be closer than usual to you I’d take, so we danced. We kicked and laughed and then the song changed. It seems so clichéd, dancing to a slow song with you, but it was the most incredible thing I’ve ever done in my life.
We stood so close, that I could feel your face and body so near to me, and it sent those flips straight to my stomach again. You feel so nice. I think we were both shy, you turned your usual shade of pink, and I just put on my usual snobbish self. Don’t be silly Ronald, I say. So we danced. As the song moved so did we, you hugged me a little bit and grinned anxiously, and at that moment, I didn’t care anymore.
Ronald, I say. ‘Yes’ you answered. I told you that I liked dancing with you. That it feels really nice. All you did was give a resounding mmmm in my ear. It tickled a bit. Ron, I say again. ‘Yes’ you answered. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say. I think, no, I know, um, I really, well, I really like you Ron, I say. You stopped dancing. And I thought, oh no, that this would be the end. Because you didn’t say I like you back. You stopped dancing and stared at me a bit, and I saw the pink rushing from your fingers right to your hairline. You grin a bit, and say, I beat you again. And I ask you, What do you mean, you beat me Ron?
You smiled at me, and I’ll never forget that smile. And I’ll never forget the way that you walked in close to me again, and the way that you leaned around to my ear, gently nuzzling my face as you went. I beat you, Hermione, you say, because I more than like you. I love you. I stopped moving, and let my stomach flip ten thousand times before I could talk again. You gave me a kiss quickly, which I thought was bold of you, as you never seemed to be that confident before. You look at me one more time and say, I am very very very in love with you Hermione. And then kiss me again and walk up the stairs.
I didn’t get to say what I wanted to say. I didn’t get to tell you the same thing back. So I’m going to leave this page here, with your named doodled on it by me thousands of times, and hope that you see this.
I love you, Ron Weasley, because you’re you.”