Harry Potter poked his head up from the far side of his bed, his black hair more untidy than usual. He had been under his bed, searching in vain for his copy of last summer's Quidditch Illustrated. It had some moves that he needed to practice on, and he knew he had brought it. He just didn't know what he had done with it, and he needed it now. He looked over at his friend Ron Weasley, who was sprawled on his own bed reading a comic book. "Hey, Ron, can I borrow your copy of last summer's QI?" he asked.

"Sure," Ron answered, his brown eyes never leaving the adventures of the Mad Muggle. He jerked his thumb towards the foot of his bed. "It's in my trunk."

"Thanks." Harry pushed himself to his feet and walked to Ron's trunk, where he knelt and opened the lid. Everything was thrown in every which way - extra robes mixed up with comics, magazines and notebooks. Harry sighed, but didn't say anything. It wasn't as if his was any better, after all. He started pulling items out and setting them on the floor next to him. Two Weasley sweaters, a Chudley Cannons hat, Chudley Cannons book, Chudley Canons yearly magazine, Spotlight on Chudley Cannons keeper Wilhelm McCormick. Just when Harry was starting to think that there was more outside of the trunk than in, he found the magazine in question. He picked it up and was about to start throwing Ron's stuff back in when he saw something lying on the floor of the trunk. He dropped the magazine on the floor next to him and inspected closer. It was a stack of letters, and what had attracted his attention was that they actually seemed to be taken care of, unlike nearly everything else in the trunk. Curiosity piqued, he picked them up, brushing away a small amount of guilt. Chances are, Ron would be just as curious, he reasoned.

He carefully opened the top letter and scanned its contents. "Dear Ron, Thank you for your letter. . .read some new books. . .cousin came for a visit. . .awful taste in music. . .dragged me out last weekend. . .how is your summer? Love from Hermione." He sifted through all of the neatly folded letters and saw that all twenty were from Hermione during the last summer. Looking back into the trunk, he saw a smaller stack of letters next to where the first had been laid and picked them up. They were also all from Hermione, short letters from the previous three summers.

"Did you find it?" Ron's voice startled Harry and he tossed the letters in, flinging the rest of the trunk items in over them as his friend's freckled face appeared above him.

"Uh, yeah, got it," he said hurriedly. "See?" He held it up, having finished loading the trunk. "I'm just going to go down to the library now and read up on some of these moves." He let the trunk close with a slam, causing both of them to jump at the sound. "Sorry. I'll see you later."

He rushed out with his mind racing, ignoring Ron's perplexed expression. Last year he had started to suspect Ron's feelings for Hermione were changing, but he hadn't thought much of it. He had figured it was a passing fancy, but now he wasn't so sure. Why would Ron save a bunch of silly letters otherwise? He headed down the staircase, frowning. What if Hermione did return his feelings? Everything would change.

Her friend, Hermione Granger, looked up from the table at which she was studying. The pair was sitting in the Gryffindor common room studying for tests they had coming up the following week. Hermione was seated at the table with stacks of books while Ginny was curled in an armchair with her Transfiguration notebook propped open on her knees.

"Still the same charm?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I just can't get it. Maybe I'm missing something in my notes?"

"You can borrow mine," Hermione offered. "Try it with my notes, and I can help you when I'm done with this assignment."

"You have your notes here from last year?" Ginny asked. "No, wait. Silly question. Of course you do," she grinned.

Hermione pointed her quill at her. "Stop acting like your brother. Do you want the notes or not?"

"Yes, please," Ginny teased, mock serious.

"All right then. They're up in my trunk. Left side, right near the bottom. I think they're under 'Hogwarts, A History,'" she said thoughtfully. "Maybe not. But they should be easy to find."

"Okay, thanks Hermione." Ginny stood and headed up the stairs to Hermione's room. She opened the trunk at the foot of Hermione's bed and grinned. Just as she had expected, everything was neat as a pin and perfectly organized. She started digging through the left side of the trunk, piling items beside her on the floor. As Hermione had told her, it was near the bottom, and while they weren't under the heavy 'Hogwarts, A History,' they were right above it.

Ginny lifted the book up. Even though she had heard Hermione quote the book countless times, she had never had an opportunity to read through it herself. Scanning a few dry pages, she knew she'd never want to, either. She shut the book with a snap, but as she did, several pages fell out. She gasped. "I broke it!" she whispered, horrified, into the quiet room. She sank to her knees, following the sheets of paper to the floor. She picked up the nearest page and wrinkled her forehead. It wasn't from the book. Instead, it was a letter to Hermione. . .from Ron? She scanned the letter, wondering why Hermione would have saved this. "Dear Hermione. . .I'm so bored. . .de-gnomed the garden three times this week. . .Mum made me clean my room. . .Wait until you see Fred and George's latest invention. . .Mum nearly killed them. . .Hope your summer is going better than mine. Ron."

She picked up all the sheets, wide-eyed. They were all from Ron. She found several more in the book and tried to put them all into chronological order, hoping that was how Hermione had saved them. There were about thirty letters, most from the previous summer, but some dating back to the summer before their second year.

Thoughtfully, she put the letters back and repacked the trunk. Why on earth would Hermione keep a bunch of old letters that weren't even particularly interesting? Unless. . ..no. Ginny shook her head. Hermione was always complaining about Ron - not serious enough, too lazy with schoolwork, absolutely annoying, always teasing. . .why hadn't she seen it sooner? It certainly put Hermione's behavior after the Yule Ball into a new light, not to mention Ron's before and during.

Ginny grinned. Ron and Hermione? This could definitely be interesting. It wasn't until she was almost down the staircase before the implications hit her. If Ron and Hermione were together, that left Harry. And herself. It would change everything.

"Ron! What are you doing?" She swiveled to face him, hands on her hips. We're supposed to be looking for Oppugno Posterus and you're not helping."

He glanced at the shelf next to him. "I am helping! See, there's the book." He pointed vaguely at a shelf that was above her line of sight.

"Where? I don't see it." Hermione reached up to pull down the book he had pointed at, and he impulsively kissed her on the cheek.

She pulled back and took a few steps away from him, the book forgotten. "What was that?" she asked, shocked.

"A kiss?" Ron offered, grinning at her apparent disquiet.

"That's sweet and all, but honestly Ron, that wasn't a kiss," Hermione informed him, tossing her head.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, Miss Know-it-all? Then what is?"

She took a small step towards him. "You want to know?"

"I do. Enlighten me," he smirked.

She took another step. "You want me to show you?"

"Yes." He took the final step, closing the gap between them.

"Well all right then." She brought her arms up to wrap them around his neck, and he lowered his head, allowing their lips to meet. He pulled her closer, sliding his arms down her back, letting his mouth linger on hers for several moments.

"Now that was a kiss," Hermione said smugly, pulling back but not leaving his arms. "What do you have to say now, hmm?"

Ron awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed. "Oh, bloody hell," he said, breathing hard. What was that?" he whispered to himself. Kissing? Kissing Hermione?! He shook his head rapidly as if to clear the image from his mind. Why would he dream something like that? Hermione was his friend. Nothing more than that. It would just be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

He settled back against the pillow, uneasily trying to ignore the part of him that didn't believe a thing he was saying and knew that everything had just changed.

April 15, 1996

Dear Juliet,

How have you been? I hope that Aunt Cordelia and Uncle Edward are well.

I'm sure that you are wondering why I'm sending you this letter. This past summer, when you came to visit, you commented on the letters I kept receiving from my friend Ron. First you insisted that I had a crush on him, and then you decided that he had a crush on me. I denied it, and you said to watch him this year and I'd see. Well, I've been watching. Things have been quite normal all year. We played our weekly games of chess, went to the neighboring town on weekends, and it was nice.

Last week, after Easter break, it all changed. My parents wanted me to come home, but we all decided to stay at school for the holiday because we had several tests the following week. Ron and Harry hid my books during the last weekend and dragged me out for what they called fun. Ron was acting normal then, but the next day, he started acting odd. More odd than usual, I should say. He won't play chess with me; he won't even talk to me unless Harry or Ginny is there with us. He turns all red when I talk to him, which is really quite unattractive with his hair color, and then he leaves. I don't know why he is avoiding me like this, it's not like my cat ate his pet again.

Well, you asked me to send you proof that Ron didn’t like me, and I think now you have it.
Love from Hermione

Hermione read it over critically. It sounded rather stilted, but it got her point across and anyway, her cousin wouldn't care. Juliet was only two years older, but they had never been close as their personalities were different like night and day. Still, they had had some fun over the summer, and actually got along quite well, despite her early complaints to Ron. Julie was popular with boys, and knew about her friendships with Ron and Harry. She would be able to tell Hermione what was wrong with Ron, if anyone could.

~*~

Ten days later, Hermione was getting impatient. She knew that the combination of owl and muggle post made a letter take longer to get to its destination, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. She and Ginny were sitting at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast. A few days earlier, Ron finally started acting somewhat more normal, but he still had his moments. Take this morning for example. All of a sudden, he had started choking on his food before mumbling an excuse and fleeing the table. She had only asked Ginny about a book she had run across the day before, Oppugno Posterus. She shook her head, bewildered. Juliet's letter better come soon or. . .

A flurry of owls descended into the Great Hall, interrupting her thought. She watched them carefully, and smiled as one of the brown animals gliding down towards her and dropped a letter next to her plate with a hoot. She thanked the owl as it soared back towards the open window and considered opening the envelope at the table, but stopped when she saw Ginny's quizzical expression. "It's from my cousin," Hermione explained. Ginny nodded in understanding. "I have to get my things together for class," she continued, standing up. "I'll see you later," she called over her shoulder.

She hurried out of the Great Hall and ducked into the first empty classroom that she could find. She tore open the envelope and pulled out the lavender sheet.

April 20, 1996

Hermione,

I know what you're trying to do. I may not be as smart as you in school, but I do know some things. You're trying to make me tell you that Ron likes you and that's why he's acting like this. Well, I'm not going to do that. You know the answer already, and you know it. And now that you know, you can do something about it. Make some kind of move, he's obviously terrified to try.

Write me and tell me what you do and how it ends up. I know you'll be fine. My love to Aunt Celia and Uncle Joseph.

Juliet

Hermione read it through again. That was it? Some help she was. She sighed as she stuffed the paper back into the envelope. What kind of move was Juliet suggesting, she wondered as she walked back into the hallway. She didn't know any moves. That's why she had written in the first place. If Juliet had been smart enough to figure that out, why couldn't she help? She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost bumped right into Professor McGonagall, who was heading away from the Gryffindor common room.

"Miss Granger. I was just looking for you," McGonagall said, looking down at Hermione with a look the young woman couldn't place. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office right now."

Hermione glanced at her watch, concerned. Why would Dumbledore need to see her, and right before classes? Her grades were fine. Okay, she had gotten only a 99% on the last Arithmancy test, but she was going to do extra credit! She opened her mouth to ask why, but McGonagall waved her hand to stop her.

"There's no need to worry about classes today, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore will take care of it," she reassured her student. "Come along, now."

As Hermione hurried down the hallway behind McGonagall, her mind whirled with the possibilities. She hadn't broken any rules lately. Not even Ron or Harry had done anything lately. The walk was quick and silent, and Hermione entered Dumbledore's office with no idea of what to expect.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted her, pulling off his silver rimmed glasses. "Please, have a seat." Hermione did so, noting the weary expression of sadness on the headmaster's face. Her heart contracted with sudden fear as she gripped the edge of the chair. She mentally ordered herself to calm down; there was no need to be so irrationally upset over what was surely nothing at all, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking.

"I imagine that you're wondering why I called you in here today," he began slowly. She nodded tersely. "I received a letter this morning, and I am afraid that it concerns you." He slid a single sheet of paper across his desk to her. "It is from a friend, a wizard who lives in your family's neighborhood," he explained as she picked up the letter and began reading it.

She felt the blood drain out of her face as an icy wave broke over her. Her mind tried to process the information as she read and reread the letter, but for once her brain was failing her. She looked up to see Dumbledore watching her carefully.

"I am very sorry, Miss Granger," he said kindly. "Is there anything you need? I shall do what I can to help."

She swallowed hard and moistened her dry lips. "Ron," she said finally. "I need Ron."