Presents for Two

High above the rest of Hogwarts, Ron Weasley slumped over the railing of the Astronomy Tower. Two years ago, the Gryffindor fourth years watched Hagrid and Professor McGonagall being assaulted by the Ministry of Magic, and in the previous year, Dumbledore, greatest of Headmasters, fell to the ground below after Snape swiped his life. As dark a though it was, he was internally fighting the urge the leap over the edge.

For the day would continue to haunt him and mock him every moment forth, like Peeves after Quidditch practice.

Like every Hogwarts morning, the Owl Post swept Great Hall, pelting the rookie witches and wizards with packages, parcels, and owl pellets. But along with Hermione's Friday edition of the Daily Prophet, came colorful boxes of varying shapes, sizes, and patterns, standing out among the multitude of brown owls transporting brown packages.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed as she emerged from the doors of the Great Hall. Many of their fellow Gryffindors followed suit, wishing the best for Hermione's eighteenth birthday. The brunette was lavished with a sea of presents, a majority of which were spell books and ingredients, the occasional piece of jewelry or clothing cropping up. An unidentified gift-giver, believed to have been Fred and/or George, sent her a bag of cat food for her ginger tabby, Crookshanks, with a dream-inducing pendant buried among the soaked meat.

Ron, however, stood sheepishly in the background, his present a mere letter that he kept held against his behind. It was something that he wanted to give her hidden from the eyes of others, for it symbolized more than his poverty. Had he more courage, he could tell her face-to-face, not hiding behind ink on parchment. But he couldn't wait for such self-confidence to build, as it was their seventh and last year at the school and, as much as he hated to admit it, the redhead doubted they'd see much of each other afterwards.

But giving her the letter was proving even more difficult than he had imagined. The rare moments between classes that Hermione had were either spent heading off to another course or studying with such intensity, he feared the piece of parchment she was scribbling on would be drowned in black ink. Such moments of frustration were most likely not the best of times to hand such an emotionally-fragile letter.

At dinner, however, she found a reprieve from her academic-chasing, and Ron took the opportunity to sneak up and stick the letter among the pile of books she usually kept by her side. Oh, how he wish he could substitute the place of those books…

Hermione had not noticed Ron silently slipping a letter among her things, and did not find the letter until she set down her good friend, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven, onto a table in the Gryffindor Commons and his letter tumbled onto the floor. When Ron saw the letter at his feet, he hid behind his copy of Advanced Potion Making, Level II, an act that automatically raised suspicion: Ron would never under his own freewill read a textbook.

She bent over and picked the letter up, eyeing it with more curiosity than she usually had for a new spell. Using her wand to make a clean cut along the top of the envelope, she reached in and pulled out a worn-out parchment, apparently recycled multiple of times by magic with trace of ancient text still embedded into the paper.

Her eyes began to zoom down the letter:

To my dear Hermione,

Today, people lavish you with attention because it's a special day for you. But for the other 364 days of the year, you being you makes each and every day special to me.

In seven years time, I could never bring myself to tell you how radiant you are, in both mind and body. So beautiful and intelligent, I never understood why you willingly spent your time with a poor (literally) boy like me.

There were times when we stubbornly kept from talking to each other, but I secretly kept more from you.

I love you.

I long for you with all my heart and all my being, ready and willing to give you all the love you could possible want or handle.

But then I remember Krum, and realize that a Godsend like you would never fall for someone on my level. You deserve someone much more skilled, intelligent, and athletic than me. Someone like Krum…

However, I'm thankful that you still make me a part of your life, and that's the most I can really pray for.

Thank you.

While you may not feel the same towards me, I will continue to love you.

Happy birthday, Hermione.

Ron

Hermione pulled her eyes off the page and looked at the book covering a shaking Ron. The second youngest Weasley lowered the book to eyelevel, only to see a shocked look of confusion masking her inner feelings.

At that point, he sprinted out of the Gryffindor tower and isolated himself from humanity at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Now he looked at the base of the pillar, under the impression that the impact with the ground would flush out the pain of rejection.

"Ron!" cried out a voice from behind him.

He whirled around to find Hermione coming through the tower door towards him, his letter held tightly in her hand.

On three… he thought to himself.

"Ron, why did you run like that?" inquired the female prodigy.

"I saw that look on your face." he replied grimly, "I am officially the biggest prat at the school. Crabbe and Goyle's shoes look pretty comfy at this point."

"Oh, Ron," she said, leaning onto the ledge to his left, "I'm sorry…"

"Stop right there, Hermione. I've hung around Bill and I can tell you that 'I'm sorry' is never a good sign for…you know…"

"Love?"

Ron shook nervously at the word like Harry saying "Voldemort," but Hermione had said it with such gentleness and warmth that he relaxed and lost himself in the soothing tone of her voice.

"Yeah…" he responded in a nearly muted voice, "Sorry my letter ruined your birthday."

"What makes you say that, Won-Won?"

For a moment, he thought Lavender was on the roof, tempting him to jump even more, before he realized that Hermione had wrapped her arms around his stomach, the side of her face buried into his back. Her touch was so soft…

In a flash, she abandoned snuggling his back to give him a kiss on his cheek, turning his face a shade of red as bright as his hair.

She whispered into his ear, "It made my day."

Ron, stunned by her reaction to his letter, gaped down at her before a smile crept across his face.

"How come you waited until now to tell me?" she asked the smirking wizard.

"I thought a genius like you would've figured it out in a second." he told the teenage witch, whose face had brighten up like his own. And in instant, she pulled down the lanky boy to her level and pressed their lips together, their first kiss together, but surely not the last.

"Early birthday present." she told him after they reluctantly pulled apart. "One sweet gift deserves another."

"Well, I'm about to give your next present a whole year early." He bent down and then paused to think. "Please don't make a crack about how cheap my gifts and family are…"

"I'll jinx anyone who does." she told him before they embraced once more, leaving all the troubles of the world behind, or at least in Harry's hands.