The Sun and Rain (two words that mean iloveyou)

A/N: I have no idea how I'm going to keep up with all these stories, so this might be updated...like once a month, so I'll make each chapter crazy long to keep you guys satisfied. Love you 3 Review! Or the cookie monster will eat you!

Soundtrack: Between the Bars- Elliot Smith

Hermione Granger was confused, and that didn't happen often.

Once upon a time, she had been Harry Potter's best friend. She had aided in defeating the Dark Lord (though mostly in book smarts, she wasn't exactly the best in the feild), and she had been at Hogwarts. And once, she had been Ron's friend too. It had been so long ago, buried in her treasure chest of precious memories, and she had pulled out at night when staring up at her ceiling. And she had loved him. Of that she was sure.

After Harry had given the Elder Wand back, Ron and Hermione had roamed the grounds. Hermione had laughed at everything Ron said, except for when he was aching over Fred's death, and then she had held him by the lake. A mermaid had popped up from under the water, said somthing in Mermish, and dived back under, its tail a ripple of silver in the dark. Hermione could say without hesitation that was her favorite memory. No because of the memaid, although that had added a sense of overbearing magic to the whole scene. It was the fact that she could be this close to Ron.

And the next week? Harry had announced he was engaged to Ginny. Ron's reaction was purely comical- he had swelled like a ballon, face red, and then deflated only when Ginny had said that if Ron tried to do anything to Harry or herself she would certainly stoop so low as to put a Bat- Boogey Hex on him.

But Hermione was lost. Wandering, trying to find the meaning of rain and love and hate and abandonment- confused, and left alone.

Then Ron went off to Mexico (she had forgotten when and why) and Harry was married off to Ginny, and Hermione was alone. She spent a ridiculous amount in the library, looking for books, even when her eyes glazed over when she stared at the pages. It hurt, like a terrible dull ache in her stomach.

She was doing just this when Harry found her in the library. He greeted her with a "Hullo, 'Mione," and sat next to her twiddling his thumbs. Being his friend (or best mate, as he would put it), Hermione can tell when he's nervous. She shuts the book she was't really reading, and turned to look at him. He looked skinnier, and pale.

Compromise- something Hermione was extremely used to. She'd first experienced it when she'd agreed to go to the Yule Ball when Krum asked because she'd honestly believed that Ron was never going to ask her, and when he ended up going with tha hag. That was the first time Hermione had ever honestly felt love, and truth be told, she wasn't used to the itchy feeling. She wanted to be close to him. To be near him, to talk to him, to snog him without restriction.

Confusion- when Ron had gone off to Mexico without so much as a glance back. She'd wasnted to run after him, waving her arms, shrieking at the op of her lungs :"Wait! I love you! Don't you love me?" But she hadn't, and he Apperated off and was simply gone, sliding through her fingers like quick silver and leaving her wanting to pick up every grain of sand. Confused. Was love supposed to hurt? She never did get the answer.

Jealousy- when Harry and Ginny were happily engaged. She and Ron had shared a glance, but she had the feeling that maybe hers was more loaded.

"Ron's back."

There was tense moment of silence.

Then the book slid from Hermione's fingers and smashed onto the floor, pages crumpled. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face and she felt the way she did when she'd had too much firewhiskey.

But why was Harry so nervous? Had they had a row? She questioned him, and then she wished she'd never gotten the answer. Because compromiseconfusionjealousy- it burned. Like a slow, rancid fire.

She couldn't belive it.

Harry explains it in a low voice, quickly, like he's speaking to a frightened animal. Hermione watches him speak numbly, his mouth moving but her ears not seeming to hear.

"Ron went to Mexico last year- I'm sure you know, how could we forget- and he was trying out this new spell." He paused, to look at her, gauge her reation, then continued. "It backfired, and he forgot somethings, some certain people. He forgot how to drive, how to open soda cans, and he forgot people." Hermione was now hearing a dull buzzing, like bees swarming not too far away. "He forgot Ginny, and Kingsley, and Percy." He paused again. By now the swarming was closer to her head. her arms felt heavy and numb, or she would've tries to bat the bugs away. "And you."

Andyou. Youand. He forgot the girl who loved him.

(No more RonandHermione. No more nothing...)

"And that's not all." For the first time in their conversation, instead of looking nervous or anxious, Harry James Potter looked...scared.

Another, tight, tense moment while Hermione wondered if the world was ending.

He doesn't even bother to whisper. To Hermione, this felt wrong, beacuse this wasn't a normal volume conversation. This was a conversation meant to be trapped between paper and ink and dirt smudged cheeks- a secret. Or maybe it didn't matter which way Harry said it, because she was going to freak either way. Ron wasn't hers anymore, no more RonandHermione, and she knew it. But what could possibly be worse? He didn't know his 'Mione. She choked back a sob.

"He's a bit..nutters. He um.." he coughed, and Hermione felt herself slide down into a hole where no one was ever going to dig her back out, "He hates you. Completely and totally. He thought Ginny was you and tried to kill her."

She can see Ron's laughing eyes before everything goes black. Confused, she was, and she didn't know why.

.o.0.O.0.o Forty words from iloveyou .o.0.O.0.o

In St. Mungo's, Ron's room is a dull gray, with the blinds twitching at random intervals and a snoring half- wolf man in the other bed. They could do better, Hermione felt, but all the same she hovered in the corner.

Ron was awake, staring at the wolf man with an odd sense of urgency that Hermione knew both she and Harry felt at the same time. He looked sane.

"Hey, mate," Harry said softly as he approached Ron's bed. Hermion watched anxiously. Ron turned toward Harry, grinning. "Hey, mate! Been some time since you came to visit."

Sounded sane. Hemione suddenly realized she was checking off a list of what made him sane and insane (herowninsaneRoninsaneinsaneinsane, but he's hers, so she'll keep him).

"How do you feel?" continued Harry quite determinedly. "Good," Ron said, still grinning. "I don't understand why I'm in here. It only backfired, right?"

"Right," said Harry in the same determinded manner; he seemed fixed on not looking at Hermione, as if she weren't there. But his eyes slid toward Hermione of their own accord. The result would've been hilarious if it weren't so frightening.

Ron followed Harry's panicked gaze, and then his face contored into a fearsome snarl, and he all but leapt out of the bed to fasten his hand around Hermione' throat. All she could think was, he really does hate me, and that this certainly wasn't a dream. With a bang and a wisp of smoke, Harry blasted Ron off of Hermione, and he rolled, slugged Harry in the chest before pinning Hermione against the wall and slugging her in the stomach. Then a nurse and emergency wizards arrived, and Ron was tied up.

The wolf-man awoke with a snarl, and he, too, was tied up.

Hermione ignored Harry's concerned look and let herself be led away.

.o.0.O.0.o Thirty-Nine words from iloveyou .o.0.O.0.o

Most girls rip flowers in their variation of he loves me, he loves me not, but in Hermione's twisted version she ripped book pages. "He hates me, he tries to kill me," she muttered ominously in her cabin. The rain was pouring outside of her little cabin, and she felt holed up, tight, tense, anxious, wishing that seh could change the situation. Bu explain- how come? Why? She was going to get her answers.

Night fell, and she was still ripping the book pages.