He is stroking Hermione's hair and she has her arms wrapped around his neck. They are alone in the middle of a beautiful garden filled with flowers and birds and big trees. He is happier than ever before. Suddenly, she lifts herself up on her tip-toes and gets extremely close to his face. They are each about a centimeter away from the each other…they can feel each others' breath…they're so close now…they are going to kiss…finally….

"Ron?" Ron was jolted from his sleep and hit his head on the backboard of his bed. He rubbed the spot that he had hit on the bed (while thinking of a series of interestingly colorful words) and looked around for the jerk who had taken him from his dream. He was so close that time, too.

He was about to let out his colorful words to the wise…person….who had interrupted him when he noticed who it was. His thoughts suddenly softened, but his ears went red. Standing directly over him was Hermione. She didn't have her look of "smartitude" if you will. (A/N: by the "smartitude" look, I mean when she has her hands on her hips, her lips pursed, and her eyebrows furrowed in a fashion that spelled out "I can't believe you just did that" or "I can't believe you're that stupid.") Instead, she blushed. She obviously felt bad that she had woken him up so abruptly, especially since he hit his head. He looked at her in surprise.

"Sorry," she said. "If you want me to leave I can. It's not important anyway." She started to get up. Ron grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him.

"It's alright Hermione. You can stay if you want." He was still nursing his injured head. "What time is it?" Hermione looked away, a bit embarrassed. He looked confused. "What? What time is it?"

"It's almost 2:00...in the morning," she answered. "I really should go back to my room." Again, she got up to leave, but Ron grasped her arm.

"No, really, it's okay. You can stay if you want. Here sit down." He moved over on his bed so that she had room to sit down. "So," he continued after she sat down hesitantly. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, actually, I wanted to talk about…er…our…friendship." Ron looked even more confused than ever, if that's possible.

"Okay…What about it?" he asked uncertainly.

"Well…um…I don't…I'm not sure if….." Her voice trailed off and Ron was starting to become scared.

"You still want to be friends, right?" Hermione thought for a moment (which scared Ron more still). "Right?" he said again.

"Ron," she averted her eyes. "I'm not sure." Ron's heart dropped. He couldn't believe Hermione didn't want to be friends with him anymore.

"What? Why? We've been friends for over six years! You can't just throw that all away!" Hermione looked scared now.

"No. That's not what I meant. I don't want to stop being friends. I just want it to be…" She couldn't seem to finish her sentences and it wasn't like Hermione at all.

"Hermione. What's going on? You're not acting like yourself. Tell me. Why are you acting this way?" Ron looked up at her expectantly. He was surprised at her reaction. She seemed to go red in the face with a sort of anger.

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU RON!" she yelled in a whisper so as not to wake Harry up. (A/N: bet you never thought of yelling in a whisper before, huh? I definitely haven't before now) "Gosh! Can't you tell? Why else would I come into your room at 2 o'clock in the morning? To tell you that I had to go to the bathroom? You're asking what's going on with me, but I could ask the same with you! What's going on in that so-called brain of yours? Did you honestly think that---" Hermione didn't have a chance to let out her last words. Ron had reached up with his arm and pulled her down by the back of her neck to kiss her. She was tense at first out of surprise, but loosened up and ran her small fingers through his messy red hair. Gosh, how she loved his hair when it was all ruffled and messy.

Little did they know, a grinning Harry lay in his bed, half-horrified by what they might do over on the other side of the room. But, knowing how Hermione was, he didn't think anything would happen.