Author's Notice: This is so so so corny. But at least it's got some style--what I call "talking to the reader"-ish. Fun!   It's a really lazy writing style. Do forgive me. Anyway. Took me like ten minutes. It's really really jumpy.  Yeah yeah can be compared to 'Crazy in Love' by Beyonce. Popular song. Really catchy.  I'd title it 'Crazy' but that's really just.not my style, teehee.

'Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you

It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it

So tell me

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you'

~ 'Why Can't I?' Liz Phaire (I 3 that song)





She'd never been, like, you know...

She'd never been, like, well...

She'd never been, like, like...

She'd never not been in love with Ronald Weasley.

Which was a very difficult thing to say if you know what I mean.

Very difficult indeed.

Because it was hard to put your finger on it. It was love, yes, but how can you be so sure? What if it's not love what if it's just like and what if no one really cares?  What if Ron doesn't love her back?

And, most importantly, when did things get so difficult?

It's not like she's crazy about him or anything, no way. People were crazy about things like chocolate and really good books and maybe even their cats.  People weren't crazy about Ronald Weasley.

Except, when he smiled like that and he told her she was really smart...well, then she really was crazy about him.

Really crazy.

It's weird; things never turn out as they should. They turn out as they shouldn't and eventually you get used to it and then things really are, as they should.  But she never did understand that.  Which made things even more difficult. 

And he didn't fit anywhere.  He didn't fit with the athletes, with the geniuses, with the gorgeous guys, with the outcasts...

He only fit with her.

And he wasn't a prince like in those fairytales. And he loved her, because that's what people do, but he didn't sweep her off her feet.  And when he patted her on the back there weren't orange fireworks or anything.  The only thing orange was his hair.

The truth was...Viktor hadn't kissed her.  Well.  She couldn't say that.  He hadn't kissed her really well.  But she couldn't say that either.  The truth was, Viktor kissed her and it was nice.  And it was really nice. I mean, it was great nice. And right afterwards she wanted to kiss him more. And then more. And she wanted to keep kissing him, and for the rest of her life she wanted it to be--

Viktor and Hermione.  Viktor and Hermione in the cafe, Viktor and Hermione in the taxi, Viktor and Hermione in Antarctica.  And Viktor and Hermione, lips locked forever and ever.

But he was Viktor. And he didn't stay long for there to ever be a Viktor and Hermione in a forever-sort of way.

And things go away...and she always loved Ron, throughout all of this. And she always loved Ron, throughout the storm. Throughout the chaotic world.  Throughout the journey...till the end.

And really, she had just always loved Ron.

And really, it was only Ron.  There was never anyone else but Ron.

And there he was. In all of his stupidity. As he chomped down on sugary sweets and yelled at Harry about not understanding the pain that came with being obsessed with the Chudley Cannons. Because Harry didn't understand anything Ron understood.  As he threw his arm around Parvati, as he threw a book at Seamus' head, as he laughed.


It was a very strange situation.

Until the most obvious thing occurred to her...until that one day...

...until he kissed her.

There wasn't time to be nervous. There wasn't time to giggle. There wasn't time to hit him.  There wasn't time to deny it.

There was just time to kiss him.

He was crazy about her.

And there were no doubts.

And she wondered if she should say she loved him, or that she had been waiting for a very long time, or that when she was younger, maybe eleven all she thought about was him and her and beauty...more beauty...whatever that was.

Maybe she should just be quiet.

He said he loved her then, and she doesn't remember exact words, only most of them.  And she thinks them whenever she is sad and whenever she reads Gilderoy Lockhart books.  All she does is think them, practically.

And he takes her hand, and she smiles, and he smiles and they smile together...

And really, no one could say they had seen anyone crazier in love than those two.

"I love you Ron."

And they are made beautiful.


La Fin.