AN: This is set up a bit differently than past stories I've done, where the first part is all part of a letter. Hope everyone enjoys it.

This was written as a birthday gift to my sister Wasabi-san, who turned 18 today! Ron/Neville is her favorite Harry Potter couple, so I hope I did them justice. Happy birthday!

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm just a fangirl :)

update: there are supposed to be lines going through some of the sentences, but I can't figure out how to get it to translate from WORD to here. pretty much, if there is a dash before and after a sentence, there is supposed to be a line going through the whole thing, as if it got crossed out while someone was writing. thanks for baring with me

I don't even know why I'm writing this. It's not like you're ever going to read it.

Sod it all

Note to self: NEVER tell Hermione about any more confused feelings you may get for your mates.

Okay, here it goes.

Ron,

-You're my best mate and we've known each other for almost seven years now and-

-This may sound a little strange but I really like you and-

-You've been almost like a brother to me-

-How's about we go for a tumble in my bed next time Harry stays with Ginny?-

When I'm around you, everything feels different. Almost like I'm safe and everything will be okay, even with this war starting up. The world seems a bit brighter, as puffy as that sounds it's true. Sometimes I can even trick myself into thinking that you might one day feel the same.

I can't help but think about you when we're not together. I feel physically sick whenever I see you with Lavender, but at the same time I'm grateful you guys flaunt each other about. It keeps me grounded, reminds me just how straight you are. And how much I'm not. At the same time, oh what I wouldn't give to be her, if only for a moment. To be able to hold you, taste you, smell you.

You remember that shirt you lost in fourth year? Well, you didn't lose it. I took it. It was right about the time I realized I'm gay. I slept with it, like a baby blanket, every night. I couldn't get enough of your smell. Hell, I would just about smother myself in it when I wanked off. Not that you need to know that, but it's not like anyone's going to see this anyway.

I still have it but it doesn't really smell like you anymore.

I just wish you would just think of me the same way I think of you.

Bullocks, Hermione was wrong. I don't feel any better.

Ron continued to stare down at the piece of parchment long after he reached the end of the words, his mind reeling. Neville really feels that way? Part of him felt relief, finally knowing that his feelings were not one-sided. But nerves slowly started rising, how was he supposed to talk to his friend now? Obviously he was never supposed to see this, and Neville had no current plans of telling him.

There was only one thing he could do.

Parchment still clutched in his hand, Ron turned and made his way down to the common room to find his roommate, whatever pointless task Hermione had sent him up to do long forgotten.