Dear Diary,

Well, Harry and Ginny seem to be feeling comfortable around each other now that the war is finally finished. (As I stated yesterday) I'm so happy that it's all over and Voldemort is gone. After three years of fighting and deaths and agony, everything finally paid off. Good thing, too. I was beginning to think it was never going to end. I would have ended up killing myself. But anyways, I have yet to see a time when Harry and Ginny aren't kissing madly. It's quite uncomfortable to be around actually, especially for Ron. I mean, Ginny is his sister and he has always been protective of her. Now he has to give those protection rights to Harry. Oh. And . . . It's extremely awkward for me when Ron and I are together, seeing Harry and Ginny going at it like there's no tomorrow.

Speaking of Ron, (again) he still hasn't confessed "anything" to me. (that is, if "anything" exists) There were a few instances during the war where he held my hand and said he had to tell me something, but something always interrupted him. (sometimes, that something was himself)

Every time we're together, I try to find some hint, some clue, some . . . something, but I can never tell with him. I can figure out anything else about him, well, physically. I've never been able to understand what goes on inside his head.

For example: He's been gaining a lot of muscle over the past five years. Partly from quidditch when we were at school and partly from the war, obviously. He's also lost weight. He doesn't eat as much anymore, which is a big deal for Ron, seeing as he usually eats like the food is going to disappear before his eyes if he doesn't eat fast enough. His hair seems to be getting redder, his eyes bluer and he's taking more and more of my heart every second of every d

"Ah!" I screamed as someone's hand fell on my shoulder, causing me to make a large scratch of ink across my paper with my purple quill that Ron had given me.

Ron.

He was standing right behind me, looking down at the small book lying in my lap that was my diary, his hand rested on my shoulder. How much had he read? Did he notice it at all? If he did, what did he read? Did he know of my undying love for him? Oh, God. I covered up the page with my hand and smiled up at Ron. He walked around, his hand still on my shoulder, to sit next to me. We were outside the Burrow. I was sitting on a garden bench so that no one could see me writing in a diary. I had a fear of someone being able to read the angers, rants, loves, hates, and mainly desires that filled the small book. I had written in it since first year. My mother gave it to me since I was going to be without her and my father for a while. I needed to have something to pour my heart into, she had said. I hadn't gone more than a week without writing in it for the past nine years, even during the war.

It was late at night and the stars were covered by grey clouds that were only visible when drifting past the bright light of the moon. Ron sat down. He placed his hand over mine and moved it away from the tiny book.

I looked down at his hand moving mine from my diary, his eyes still on me. He must have read it. God, no. Tears welled up in my eyes and I started to get up to leave, but Ron's strong hands caught me and brought me back down to the bench, tears now silently falling down my cheeks. I turned myself away in shame and he turned me back.

"Hermione," he started. "I saw what you wrote and-"

I burst. I couldn't help it. "I'm sorry, Ron. Don't pay attention to any of it. Just act like you never saw anything. This moment never happened." I sobbed into my hands.

"Hermione-" he started again.

"Ron, just forget it."

"Hemione-"

I cried hysterically, not wanting to listen to what Ron had to say.

"Hermione!"

"No, Ron, just no. I don't want to hear what y-" All of the sudden, his lips were on mine, my salty tears running down to where our lips met. He pulled away. I was silent, gazing at him, confused.

"Merlin, Hermione. Do I have your attention now?" he asked. I cried again.

"You only kissed me so you could get my attention didn't you? You don't really love me. I knew you didn't!" Again, he kissed me, fiercer and longer this time.

"Hermione! JUST LISTEN TO ME!" he yelled after he pulled away. "I DO love you!" I was silent now, listening intently, entranced by his dancing blue eyes. "I always have and I always will! I didn't even notice all that stuff that you noticed about me. All I was noticing was how your hair was becoming even softer, your eyes were changing from a chocolate to a dark chocolate. And you know how I love chocolate." I silently chuckled at this, turning pink. He lifted my chin with his index finger. "You're beautiful, Hermione. And I love you." I beamed and threw myself at him. I kissed him with the deepest kiss imaginable. My diary dropped to the ground. Ron looked up (or down rather) and smiled his lop-sided grin. He bent over and picked up the diary. I looked at it. It had opened to a page from second year. It was Ron's cute second-year face, grinning his cute lop-sided grin. It was sketched with colored pencils and there was a lot of emphasis on his red hair and blue eyes. Ron looked up at me.

"You did this?" he asked, amazed. I nodded slightly, blushing furiously.

"There are more actually. Multiple ones from each year. But, it's my diary. So, don't go flipping through it. There are some things that would be really embarrassing for you to see or read." He closed the delicate book carefully and moved closer. He rested his forehead on mine and wrapped one arm around my waist, placing the other hand on my cheek. I put my arms around his neck and we kissed again for a long time. Our bodies melted together like they were meant to be.

Later, after we had pulled apart, I shivered. The cold had finally gotten a hold of me. Ron noticed and escorted me inside. Everyone seemed to have gone to bed. We went into the living room and Ron sat on the couch, motioning for me to sit on his lap. I happily obliged. He spread his feet out on the couch and I lay down on his chest, my hands fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt as he stroked my hair.

Just as I was about to doze off, I heard Ron's soft voice whispering to me. "I love you, Hermione." I smiled, cuddling closer.

"I love you, too, Ron." I fell into the first happy sleep that I had for four years.