I know he can hear me crying despite my best attempts to keep myself quiet. He's called my name a few times but I'm still too hurt to feel he deserves a response from me. I'm not sure what's come over me. The first few nights after Ron's return, I fell asleep grinning like crazy, although I didn't let him know. He didn't deserve that satisfaction. While in front of him I maintained that I was angry and nothing, nothing he could do or say would fix it until I was ready to forgive him. Maybe now the initial shock has worn off and all I have left is the hurt that's got me crumpled under my blankets, trying to steady my breathing. Or maybe I'm just finally ready to forgive him.

But I keep seeing that look on his face. I keep hearing him accusing me of choosing Harry over him. He looked so disgusted. His voice was completely heartbroken. That moment was haunting me today. Ron made a joke early that had Harry in stitches. I hadn't seen Harry laugh once while Ron was gone and it did me good to watch him smile. I'll admit the joke was funny. My mouth may have turned up a bit at Harry's laughter. But that memory, that awful memory of Ron's face as he left…it flashed in my mind and kept me from laughing. Ron can't possibly understand how utterly unfair this is. When he left he took so much of me with him and I'm scared to death that I won't be willing to let him give it back.

"Mione? Please answer me."

His voice is the only sound I hear over the steady drum of the rain on our tent. I roll my eyes and wipe at them harshly. Doesn't he get the hint? I do not want to talk to him. No, wait. That's not true. I want to talk to him, to really talk to him. But he doesn't deserve it. I know he doesn't deserve it and the thought makes me cry harder. I can't help it.

Suddenly he's here. I feel his weight pressing down on the cot and his hand unsure on my arm. He's scared to death of me. I can feel his fingers shaking as they attempt to sooth me. Not to mention that he's given me more compliments and agreed with me on every dispute since his return. It seems he'd give anything for my forgiveness. My first thought is to throw his hand off me and insist he goes back to his own cot. But he's trying so hard…

I turn onto my back and pull the covers down to my waist, reluctantly opening up. I know I must look pathetic and weak but I try my best to hold defiance in my eyes. His, on the other hand, carry a crippling amount of regret and I immediately want to take him into my arms and try and sooth him.

"What is it?" he asks and I wish I had the attitude in me to laugh at his preposterous question.

Instead, I sigh dramatically and once again wipe at my tears. Not wanting to feel swayed by his wonderful blue eyes, I look away. "I don't know if I can…"

Without hesitation he responds, "Trust me, Hermione, whatever you want to say…if it could lead to a chance that you'll forgive me then I'm ready for it." His eyes are so sincere it scares me to think how quickly I might forgive him. Listening to him, something is telling me that he needs to hear me out as much as I need to say it. "Please?" he adds.

My eyes snap back to his to see if his gaze holds as much conviction as his words. They do. He really means it. Somewhere in my heart, at that moment, I'm sure that he's suffering as much as I am. I nod, trying to decide how to begin. Sitting up, I tuck my feet underneath me, once again looking away. "Well, obviously I'm still upset with you," I manage to squeak out. Out of the corner of my eye I see his red hair disappear into his hands. Is he frustrated with me for being angry with him, or struggling with anger toward himself? I look back at him as he lifts his head from his hands and my breath hitches when I see his glistening eyes. Will he cry? I don't know if I can get anything accomplished while watching Ron Weasley cry. It'd be the end of me.

For good measure I take his hand in mine and continue, "I'm glad you're back, Ron…I am. I know I was outwardly enraged at you but, if I'm being honest, the moment you walked back through that tent was the happiest moment of my life. It was like a dream."

I could feel my anger rising back up. "But while you were gone I tried forcing myself to accept that I might not ever see you again. Do you know what that's like? I'm still scared you're a dream. And when I think of you leaving, which I do…a lot…just so you know… I get so…my heart just…breaks." I'm sobbing now. Harry, sitting just outside the tent on watch, must be able to hear me. I pluck my wand from under my pillow and cast a silencing charm. Ron's face looks evermore anxious.

"Mione, I…"

"And it wasn't bad enough that you left me. The things you said, the way you looked at me. You can't undo those things, Ron. I see them every time I close my eyes. I see them every time I want to smile, and then I feel the hurt all over again."

That did it. I look up and find the tears have begun down his cheeks. He makes no noise as he swats them away. My body feels wrong sitting here, doing nothing as he cries in front of me.

"I'm sorry." His voice is hardly a whisper but his words cut into me. His eyes burst through mine and he looks as if he's about to crumble. His body language mimics the way I felt all those nights; pathetic and alone. All I wanted during that time was for him to appear and hug me.

With that thought I expanded my arms and enveloped him into me. I may have suffered all those nights without him but something inside me refuses to sit by as he struggles. Love. A wave of realization rushes over me and I'm sure I'm madly in love with Ron. I've liked him for years now, hoping he could maybe return the feeling someday. Then, over the last year I realized how severe a situation we were getting into and I've done my best to completely ignore my urge to tell him how I feel, for Harry's sake. How unfair it would be for Harry, forced to give up Ginny for the sake of our quest, to watch as Ron and I begin a relationship.

For the first few seconds Ron doesn't move, clearly shocked at our embrace. Then, without warning he is hugging me back and we are both crying. It takes him about a minute to get himself together enough to talk.

"Hermione, I'm not sure what to say to make it all better. I'm not good with stuff like that. Bloody hell, I don't think anything I could say is worth enough."

He places his hands on my arms and nervously rubs his thumbs along my wrists. "You have to understand that the locket…"

I felt it surge up, my anger exploded at the mention of the locket. I shook of his hands and stood, my blanket pooling onto the floor. "The locket?" I laugh harshly. "You know, I find it interesting that you think the damn locket only affected you!"

"No, that's not it. I…"

"I'll have you know, Ronald Weasley, that when I wore the locket I felt like hell too! I felt angry and hopeless and, thanks to you, I sat around for weeks completely sure that I was unwanted!"

Whatever words were planning to escape his mouth were quickly erased by my comments. But it doesn't matter. He needs to hear this if he really wants to make this right. He wipes at his eyes once more and it gives me a bout of satisfaction.

"I know, Hermione. I know. I'm so sorry. I…"

"Harry didn't know what to do with me, not that there was anything he could do! Not only did we not have you, but you turned me into this useless, crying mess!" Something calmed inside me. Had I finished? Perhaps it was one of the last walls left to come down.

Not quite. I know what the last wall is, and it can't come down. Not yet, at least. I love him and he has to know, but I still can't do that to Harry. If he has to sacrifice then so do we, right? "Do you get that, Ron? Do you understand what you did to me?" I ask quietly.

He stands tall, his eyes red and puffy but filled with conviction and fear. "Hermione, I'm in love with you."