I've been ignoring Ron for at least a week. And that's seven days too many.

I'm sitting in the common room at a table, about to begin my Potions essay.

I look over to see Ron sitting alone at a table across the room, leaning over a blank piece of parchment as well. I bet he wishes he had me to help him now.

Ron is completely avoiding Lavender. I thought that he would still be with her after she jumped at him like that, but I was wrong – he won't even go near her. And even though I could kiss him for that, I'm not even talking to him.

Ron keeps glancing at me. He's probably thinking about how stupid I was to even think he and Lavender were through in the first place. I mean, I guess they are now, but that doesn't change the fact that he lied to me about it before.

Harry notices me staring at this blank piece of parchment, and he asks me, "Are you writing a letter?"

Oh, Merlin's pants! I know just the way to get back at Ron… He is going to go absolutely mad!

"As a matter of fact, Harry, I am, but I just can't think of what to say." I smile at him, and he gives me a questioning look.

"To whom, if you don't mind me prying?"

"Viktor," I reply, dipping my quill into the inkwell while trying my best to hide the smirk that's creeping its way onto my face. Harry gapes at me, and when I see Ron's face, I almost burst out laughing – he looks like he's going to kill someone!

"Why? I thought you two stopped talking?" Harry still looks puzzled, but suddenly a look of realization has just appeared. "Hermione!" he whisper-shouts so that no one else can hear. "You're not trying to– "

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry!" I exclaim, but I throw in a wink that only he notices. "Oh, honestly…" I add in an undertone with a few "tsks" to seal the deal.

"Hermione!" Harry is still gaping at me.

"Harry! Can't I write a letter to my boyfriend?"

"BOYFRIEND?" Ron is staring at me more attentively than I've ever seen him in any class.

"Vicky is your boyfriend, Hermione?" He looks like someone just punched him in the stomach.

"Yes, as a matter of fact he is, Ronald." People are starting to stare at us, waiting any second for one of us to explode with anger.

"But – but – you won't be able to see each other because you're here and he'll be off training!"

"So? We'll write. And I'll see him over the summer holidays."

"I thought you were coming to Bill and Fleur's wedding?"

"I am! I'd visit Viktor afterward."

"But what about – what about – what about me?" What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

"What – what do you mean Ron?" My voice breaks mid-sentence, much to my annoyance. I can't let myself feel this way anymore, I just can't.

"I mean, me and Harry, of course. We're your best friends. Aren't you going to miss us?"

"I'm not going anywhere just because I have a boyfriend now, Ron!"

"Well, you'll certainly be spending much more time with him than us now, won't you?"

"No, Ron, I'm still at school!"

"Oh. Yeah." There is a silence for a moment, but then Ron says, "I still hate him."

That puts me over the edge. "Why do you hate him so much? What's he ever done to you?"

Ron closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Seamus, Dean, Harry, and a few others are all watching us anxiously all of them waiting for Ron to speak.

"Do you really want to know why I hate Viktor Krum? Yeah, I know what you're thinking, Hermione – "

"Oh, you know what I'm thinking? Because it seems to me as if you're a daft idiot who doesn't even realize it when his best friend is in lo – "

"– In love with Viktor Krum? Really, because when you were getting all angry with me for 'lying' to you, you didn't seem to think about the fact that you lied to me! You told me you didn't love him!"

"I don't!" I can feel tears stinging my eyes now. How dare he turn the tables like this! How is this my fault anyway?

"That's funny, I recall you saying just before that he's your boyfriend!"

"That doesn't mean I love him!" I shout forcefully. The common room has gone silent. All eyes are on Ron and me. "So what do you suppose I'm thinking, then, Ron?" I break the silence with a shaky voice.

Ron swallows thickly and steps closer to me. He says in a low voice, "You're thinking that I'm jealous of Vicky because he's a rich and famous Quidditch player, but it's so much more than that." Ron suddenly raises his voice a little more, and his tone sounds slightly desperate. "That doesn't even matter compared to – You know what? Damn it, Hermione, can't you see why I hate Vicky?"

"No, I – " Ron cuts me off by pressing his lips to mine, and I just melt into his kiss.

Fireworks are going off in my head, which feels like it's spinning. After an eternity of bliss, he lets me go.

"I love you, Hermione. I love you so much, I don't even know what to do. I should have told you when it mattered the most."

"I can't – Ronald Bilius Weasley, I just – I can't believe you!" I am completely shocked.

"What did I do this time?"

"You can't just snog me and think that everything will be fine! You have no idea what you did to me!"

"I'm sorry?" he says as if it's a question, not an apology.

"Well you're not forgiven!"

"What? Hermione!" he calls after me as I storm out the portrait hole. "Hermione, wait!"

I whip around to see him behind me.

"What now, Ron?" I sigh. He looks so lovable just standing there, pleading for me and acting so desperate.

"Please, Hermione. I don't want to – Hermione, I don't want to ruin our friendship. If you don't feel the same way, it's okay – "

"Who said I don't feel the same way?" My voice wavers and my eyes are filled with tears of anger, frustration, and longing.

"What – but I thought – I didn't – " Ron splutters, but I cut him off by running to him and throwing my arms around him. When I finally pull away for a moment, Ron pulls me close again and presses his lips to mine.

Ron runs his fingers through my hair and drops his arms to wrap them around my waist. I lean my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, not wanting this moment to ever end.

"I know what you're thinking, 'Mione," he says after a while.

"And what's that, Ronald?"

"That you love me."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself."

"But I'm thinking the same thing."

"That you love yourself?" I scoff.

"No. That I love you too."

"Really?" I look into his eyes and see the sincerity.

"Of course I do." And he kisses me on the forehead ever so softly.