Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and anyone/anything in that magical world. I am not a blonde British woman, and I'm not richer than the Queen. I'm just a lowly fanfic writer.

A/N: This story takes place after Ron and Harry get back upstairs from the Yule Ball. Ron's really pissed off- okay I'm gonna stop before I give anything away!!!

"He is such a prat. He's way too old for her, what's an eighteen year old doing with a girl who's fourteen? If he wasn't famous she wouldn't even give him a second glance, she's just dating him because he's VICTOR KRUM."

Harry and Ron had just come back into the common room after the Yule Ball. Hermione was still downstairs with Krum, which was really making Ron angry. He could barely talk straight- Harry couldn't hear anything besides the occasional swear word and "stupid Krum" every now and again.

Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing as Ron continued ranting about Hermione. Ron knew that his friend was getting tired of the constant fights between him and Hermione and having to listen to him complaining afterwards, but he couldn't help it; Hermione was always getting on his nerves!

"Ron, stop and think for a second," Harry interrupted. "You're going nuts over this guy and babbling mindlessly. I can barely hear a word you're saying, so unless you want a silencio charm cast on you, you'll slow down, lower your voice, and tell me every plausible reason why you don't like Krum. I honestly don't see what's wrong with him, but maybe there's a method to your madness."

Ron laughed bitterly. "Oh, I have so many reasons. First of all, he's the enemy. You're competing against him; Hermione shouldn't even be talking to him! It's called loyalty, which she's completely thrown away for the first handsome Russian git she finds- and he's not even that good-looking in the first place!"

"The next reason I hate him is that he's way too old for her. He's either a pervert or he needs to keep her around for something- which brings me to my next point, which is that he probably only wants her so that he can get close to you, gain your trust, and use her friendship to win the Triwizard Tournament. I'm also mad at Hermione. He's not her type at all; Hermione would never date someone that thick. The only explanation is that she's dating him because he's famous, and he's too thick to know the difference. Famous people are all the same."

The second the words came out of his mouth, Ron regretted letting them out. Harry's eyes flashed with hurt, then with sadness, and finally with pure rage.

"All famous people are the same, Ron? Am I too thick to know when someone's using me? Do people only hang out with me because of this stupid scar?"

"No, Harry, I meant other famous people, not you! You're different- you didn't ask to be famous!" Ron protested. "And besides, you don't go around signing autographs and doing endorsements like other people we know," he exclaimed, thinking darkly of their second Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. "You might be the most famous person in our world, but you're also one of the most normal people I've met here."

Harry's face softened a bit, but he was still noticeably angry. "Alright, whatever. I don't care- it's been a long night, I'm going to bed."

Without another word, he stamped up the stairs to his dormitory.

He re-emerged a minute later. "By the way, Krum's Bulgarian, not Russian."

Ron stayed frozen on the couch for a long time, thinking about the night's events and how much of a jerk he'd been to everyone. He'd ignored Padma, his date, even though he was lucky to have caught her before someone else did; he'd angered Hermione, the girl he liked, by yelling at her about her date; and last but not least, the icing on the cake of teenage angst, he hurt his best friends feelings.

'Wait a minute', he thought to himself, 'I just called Hermione the girl I like. That's not right.'

Even as he said it, he knew he was wrong. Instantly Ron's mind went into flashback mode. He remembered the tingling in his stomach the first time he saw her; the sinking feeling he experienced when he saw her being attacked by a troll; the devastation of seeing her petrified in second year; the excitement he felt every time she smiled at him or accidentally touched his hand. In ten seconds he figured out what he'd been denying for four years.

He liked Hermione.

All of a sudden he wanted to tell her how sorry he was for being a jerk, and to explain his hatred towards Krum. It took all his willpower not to run back downstairs to talk to her. Instead, he ran upstairs to the dormitory where Harry was pretending to sleep, turned on his lamp, and started rummaging around for parchment.

Ron sat on his bed with a wrinkled piece of parchment and a quill, trying to find the words to say what he was feeling.

Finding a good opening sentence, he put his quill to the parchment and began to write.

"Dear Hermione:

First of all I wanted to apologize for saying all those horrible things about Krum. I know that Harry doesn't mind, so I shouldn't either. I'm also sorry for not asking you to the Yule Ball sooner. I guess I just never realized that someone else would ask you. You're fourteen years old Hermione- you really should be getting into dating by now if you want to. Even so, you shouldn't be dating Krum. I'm sure he's a nice guy- hell, I know he's a nice guy if you're hanging out with him, but he can't make you happy.

You need a guy who's like your best friend, and who's always defended you, whether it means detention or upchucking slugs. You need a guy that you drive bloody mad, but he still can't live without you and knows it. You need someone who's known you for years and has loved you for every single second whether he knows it or not. I'm that guy, Mione. I loved you on the train our first day at Hogwarts, during the huge fight about Scabbers, and especially downstairs when I saw you with Krum. I really don't know why I'm such a prat- I guess I love you too much. Please understand, Mione. Please. I can't live with this any longer.

Sweet dreams and I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Love,

Ron"

Ron put his quill away and folded the note in half. Pretending not to see Harry squinting through his eyelids trying to figure out what was going on, he walked out of the boy's dormitory and went to climb the stairs to the girl's room. However, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs- he'd just remembered that the stairs turned into a slide if a male student tried to go up them. Ron was a bit perplexed, but decided to leave it in the common room for Hermione to find when she got back later. Once in the common room, he looked around for a safe place to put his note. He wasn't as scared of Hermione not being able to find it as he was of Lavender or Parvati getting to it first. Finally, he decided to put it in the book Hermione had left on one of the coffee tables, assuming that she would read a little bit before going to bed. It was the perfect hiding place, because he was positive that no one else in Gryffindor would want to read something as boring as "A Detailed History of the Study of Arithmancy". Ron replaced her bookmark with the note to make sure she would find it and started to walk out of the room. All of a sudden, something stopped him.

Hermione would still be angry when she got back- if she read the note, she would probably get even angrier. She would start yelling at Ron about how it was too late, she was with Krum now, and that Ron should have at least had the courage to tell her in person.

No, Ron did not want to deal with Hermione on a rampage. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to rip the note in tiny pieces and throw it in the fire. He wasn't ready to tell her yet; he'd just found out how he'd felt twenty minutes ago. This was too much, too soon.

Silently he walked back over to Hermione's book and took the note out of it. Glancing at the words one last time, he headed out of the room back towards his dorm, taking the letter apart rip by satisfying rip.

When he reached his room, Harry jumped up, apparently forgetting that he had been pretending to be asleep. "What did that note say? Where did you put it?" Harry was so intrigued by the letter that he'd also forgotten that he was mad at Ron.

Ron showed him the tiny pieces he had ripped to shreds. "It was to Hermione, but it wasn't mean or anything- it's complicated Harry."

Without another word, and ignoring Harry's startled expression, Ron got into bed and turned off the light beside him.

Harry sensed that this meant Ron wasn't going to say anything that night, and turned off the only remaining light in the room. He lay awake for hours afterward, trying to think of what had been in that letter to Hermione, and, more importantly, why Ron hadn't left it for her.

Ron, however, was at peace with his decision. As he drifted off into his dream world, all he could think was one thing.

"She'll find out eventually- it's just too much, too soon."

With those final words ringing in his mind, he surrendered himself to dreams of bouncing ferrets and a certain beautiful, bushy-haired girl.