I guess the truth was I was always afraid. Afraid of who I was around him and who he would become around me. At first, it didn't seem like much, but soon I found myself falling in love with him and this is our story.

Throughout my life I was always doing one of two things: reading or writing. I had read Hogwarts: A History in its entirety by the time I was six and had added things to make a small book by the time I finished at the school. I liked to think I knew everything and I guess I could become a bit overbearing with it all, but this story isn't about my love for reading or my love for writing; rather its about my love for a certain young man who captured my heart when I was only eleven years old. Sure, I denied the attraction for many years, but at some point it just became unbearable and I had to tell him how I felt.

I'm assuming you all know the story of Harry Potter, but what about the story of us... his two best friends? What about Hermione and Ronald?

I remember the first time I realized there was something between us. It was during our first year at Hogwarts, and we had barely known each other. For the first few months of school I found myself hating Ronald's existence. He would talk about me and my intelligence behind my back and somehow I would always find out. As you'll remember from Harry's story, toward the end of our first year someone let a troll loose in the castle and Ronald and Harry saved my life. I know what you're thinking... why didn't I fall in love with Harry? Why Ronald? Well, for one simple reason that was overlooked in Harry's story. When I was in that bathroom crying my eyes out over what Ronald had said sometihng occurred to me, "Why did I care so much?". It was something that had never really dawned on me before. I was in the middle of pondering this question when Ronald and Harry came in and saved my life. The following night I was sitting alone in the common room, reliving the previous days events when I heard soft footsteps of someone coming to join me. The rest of the students should have been in bed, so I was afraid it was whoever let that troll free. I grasped my wand tightly in my right hand and silently hoped this person wouldn't see me. The next thing I heard was someone crashing into something and the words bloody hell resoundned through the room. I giggled a bit and knew just by the voice that it was Ronald. "Hermione?" he called into the darkness, and just by the way he said my name I knew there was something. He said it with such love and admiration that my heart melted into a heap on the floor. We stayed up until the wee hours of the morning discussing who we thought was behind the troll's entrance and we actually agreed. It was a once in a lifetime thing and we were both wrong. We thought for sure it was Professor Snape because he was always trying to destroy Harry.

I remember the first time I realized I was in love with Ronald Bilius Weasley. It took us both quite a while. To this day, I'm still not sure when he realized he loved me, but I can almost pinpoint when I fell for him. It was when I first saw him with Lavendar Brown during our sixth year. I never liked her. I shared a dorm with her and Parvati through most of school and I knew who they were better than anyone. They were two bimbos who were obsessed with two things: boys and themselves. So, to see my best friend dating one of these idiots was more than I could handle. When he kissed Lavendar I would sometimes shut my eyes and wish it was me he was kissing. Now, before I actually saw them together I had heard rumors, but nothing made it more real than seeing their entwined bodies on the Gryffindor couch, holding one another tightly and snogging. When I saw this and my heart shattered I knew that what I felt for Ronald was more than just a friendly concern. I wanted his arms wrapped around me. Holding me. Snogging me. Cuddling with me. But at the time, he couldn't see it; he didn't understand.

I remember the first time I pleasured myself and thought of Ronald. Strangely enough, it was the same day that I saw him and Lavendar together. I retired early that night and was alone in the room for a good hour before my roommates came up. I laid on my side and sobbed silently wondering why he would do this to me? Of course, the answer was simple, he didn't realize he was doing anything. Anyway, I laid in bed and thought of all the good times Ron and I shared and then my mind took a sudden turn. Suddenly I was thinking of what lay beneath Ron's robes. The chiseled body that Quidditch was scoping. I wondered if he was covered in the red hair that was on his head and growing on his face. As I pondered these questions and pictured his nude form in my head I found myself massaging my breasts. Surprised by my reaction I reached my hand under my skirt and moved my knickers away before pressing my hand lightly between my folds. I let out a small moan and pretended that my fingers were Ron's. As I moved them into myself I pictured Ron's nude form laying over me and thrusting his member into me as he moaned. He told me that he loved me and Lavendar never menat anything to him. He told me that he would always love his little smartass, me. Before I was able to comprehend the situation Lavendar and Parvati walked in and I immediately pulled my hand out and shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep. "He won't tell me he loves me," is all I heard Lavendar say before drifting off into a peaceful, serene, and happy slumber.

I remember the first time he first told me he loved me. No, I don't count the time he told me he loved me for helping him with his schoolwork. Even though that did have quite an effect on me, I don't usually count that. This was a moment that meant the world to me and I wish was told in more detail in Harry's story. But it gives me a chance to relive it, which is always a plus. It was the night Ron returned to us from the Burrow. He had left, as you know, during the search for the horocruxes, leaving Harry and I alone. I thought that I could never forgive him for letting his two best friends down like that, but I did (and a lot quicker than I thought I would!). When I saw him and realized who it was my heart melted and my eyes twinkled. He was just the man I remembered. I had to remember what he did though and for a while I stayed mad at him, but that eventually wore off. A couple days later, Ron and I were sitting by the fire while Harry got some much needed sleep. We were peering over at one another and trying not to make it obvious.

"I'm really glad you came back," I told him as I touched his leg gently with a sweet smile. It was the first nice thing I'd said to him since his return.

"I couldn't possibly leave you two out here alone," he said with a small smile, "I knew you guys could do it without me, but I didn't want you to," he added.

I almost threw myself into his arms then and there, "We couldn't do it without you; don't underestimate yourself," I had told him. He always underestimated himself and Icouldn't stand it. We needed him here. He was the glue that held us together. We all needed one anohter; we were like a puzzle, with one piece missing we're just not complete.

"Don't tell Harry," he said breaking my train of thought, "but I really came back for you?" This statemetn threw me through a loop and I had to look up at him. He blushed a bit when he caught my eye, but smiled. "I didn't want anything to happen to you without me knowing that I did everything in my power to prevent it." It was, by far, the sweetest thing he ever said to me. He turned to me and took my hands; the gesture forced me to look up at him. He smiled when our eyes met, "I love you, Hermione Jane Granger."

It was one of the happiest moments of my life. I felt like I was flying and about to fall when he caught me in his arms and whisked me to safety. My heart began to race, I wanted to tell him I love him too, but my mouth was dry so I smiled and threw my arms around him and hugged him lovingly. He knew I loved him too, and I would tell him the next day in case he didn't.

I remember the first time we kissed, really kissed. Yes, we kissed before the battle, but htat was almost a good-bye kiss. It wasn't until the battle ended and we were standing outside the night before Fred's funeral. I was taking a walk when I saw Ron standing by the large hole that had been dug for his brother's body in the back yard. It was rather dark and it wasn't until I was only a few feet away that I saw the tears glistening Ron's eyes. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I watched the love of my life silently mourn his brother's passing.

I moved slowly towards him and put my hand gently on his shoulder. He turned to look at me and smiled before pulling me to his side. We stood in silence, both of us thinking of Fred and how he was always tyring to show us the attraction between us. I wondered what he would think of this now; what he would think of Ron and I standing this close together, madly in love with one another. I could picturing him grinning from ear to ear repeating his favorite phrase I told you so. The thought made me smile and I would repeat the thought to Ronald after the funeral the next day. And even though we were standing by where Fred was to be buried, I felt like this was mine and Ron's moment. "He loved you, you know?" I said. I knew Ron knew this, but it was always nice to hear and he was in constance need of reassurance. Ron said nothing; simply nodded his head.

I watched Ron intently as he stared longingly at the hole in the ground when I realized he probably wanted alone time. I went to move away from him, but almost immediately felt his rough and callused hand grasp my arm. I turned to him and realized our bodies were only inches apart. I smiled a bit and for the first time I saw a sincere smile on his face. He put his hand lightly on my face and allowed his thumb to trace my cheek. "I don't know what I would do without you," he said. It was my turn to sob. He wiped away my tears with his thumb and leaned in to let his lips brush mine. I immediately kissed him back, without missing a beat. He pried my lips open with his tongue and we let our tongues duel and flirt as our hands travelled through one anothers unruly locks. I felt his left hand grab my waist and pull me up against his body. The man I had loved for six years was holding me close and kissing me like he never wanted to let go; I was on cloud nine.