Musings of a Love Potion Clouded Mind

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I am not JK Rowling, and I wish I didn't have to write another disclaimer. Some of the dialogue used are quotes from the Half Blood Prince movie, which is another thing I do not own.

A/N: So this starts in the HBP movie where Ron is under the influence of Romilda Vane's love potion that was originally intended for Harry. Please remember Ron is OOC from his usual self because he is on love potion, so I tried to make this story go exactly like the scene from HBP. He will get in character as he recovers. Let me know what you think in a review :)

~Please Review~

I gazed out at the moon, completely in awe of its loveliness. It was beautiful; almost as beautiful as Romilda Vane.

The full moon was high in the sky, bathing everything in a soft white glow. Everything was made more wonderful by its presence; just like when Romilda was near.

I don't know how long I had sat there in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory, staring at the moon before I heard someone come in. I hoped it was Romilda, but when I turned around and only saw Harry, I was disappointed and turned back around to stare at the moon.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? The moon?" I asked, I hoped Harry could see its beauty, too. It would be a shame to miss something of such brilliance.

"Divine," Harry agreed, though there was something to his voice I couldn't exactly point out... Reluctance? Disbelief? "Had ourselves a little late night snack did we?"

If he didn't want me to have some of his food, he shouldn't have left it out in the open like he had. That was his mistake.

"It was on your bed, the box. I just thought I'd try one," I explained. Those chocolates had smelt so good, not like chocolate at all actually. It had smelt like... like Romilda Vane. It was the best smell in the world. The box still smelt like her, so I clutched it to my chest as I stood up.

"Or twenty," Harry joked, eyeing all the candy wrappers that littered the floor of the dormitory.

I ignored his comment, nothing could bring me down from this wonderful feeling that surrounded her name. Romilda Vane.

Then, I got to thinking, Harry was my best mate; I might as well tell him about Romilda. On second thought, I should tell the world about Romilda. Romilda was so... wonderful.

"I can't stop thinking about her Harry," I began, anxious to tell him of my glorious revelation.

"Honestly, you know, I reckoned she was starting to annoy you." He explained, clearly confused as he made his way toward his bed and started to climb in.

Oh, how wrong he was! How could he think such a thing of Romilda? Romilda Vane was beautiful, so nice. She could never annoy anyone.

"She could never annoy me," I insisted, climbing into Harry's bed with him. He had to understand this! "I think I love her!" A huge grin swept over my face, without me telling it to. It was because I was thinking of Romilda; I was always thinking of Romilda.

Harry looked positively frightened.

"Well..." Harry said, sounding quite confused. "Brilliant." Something seemed off about Harry. He should be happy for me, but right now he looked just the opposite; he quickly climbed off the bed and away from me. Why was he acting so strangely?

I hoped it was nothing as I changed the subject,"Do you think she knows I exist?" I asked as I sat up on Harry's bed.

Harry's confused frown deepened on his face, "I bloody well hope so," an element of incredulity added to his tone. "She's been snogging you for three months."

I was completely and utterly lost. Who was Harry talking about? Romilda and I had never done anything together...

"Snogging?" It was my turn to be confused. "Who are you talking about?" This was serious. Harry had to understand that Romilda was the only girl for me, whoever he was thinking about was probably some ill- conceived rumor.

"Who are you talking about?" His frown became impossibly deeper. Did he really not know that I loved Romilda?

"Romilda of course!" I told him, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Romilda Vane!" The loveliest name ever to grace this planet!

At my confession, all confusion on Harry's face vanished. He smiled, and for a second I thought he was just remembering that I did, in fact, was in love with Romilda Vane. Then, his expression turned mocking.

"Okay, very funny," he chuckled. Suddenly, I was furious. I couldn't believe this! I thought I could trust Harry! Did he think that my love for Romilda was some sort of joke? My love for her was infinite; I would love her until the end of time!

He began to pick up the many candy wrappers that littered the boy's dormitory floor. I threw the empty box of candy that smelt so strongly of Romilda Vane at him. It him him sharply on his side.

"OW! What's that for?" He stood, gently rubbing his side. Good, he needed some sense knocked into him.

"IT'S NO JOKE," I shouted, it was absolutely crucial that he know this. "I'm in love with her," I finished, a little softer. I really was in love with her; I loved her more than anything. Romilda and I were perfect together. Weren't we? I needed a second opinion, and who best than Harry, my best friend, to approve our relationship. He knew me better than anyone else. I knew I was in love with Romilda, but what would happen now? Should I tell her? What if she didn't love me too? So many questions formed in my mind, creating overwhelming doubt.

"Alright fine! You're in love with her!" He shouted back. Well, now we agreed that my feelings for Romilda were true, we were progressing a little. It was something, at least. As soon as my hopes were raised, they were immediately shot back down as he asked a question that I had to answer negatively. "Have you ever actually met her?" He seemed to be confused again, his brow furrowed in thought.

"No." I said, a little worried. We had yet to meet, but that was the beauty of it. I knew it would be love at first sight, we were just so perfect for each other. But when would we meet? Our first meeting had to be perfect, it would start our life together. It would be something we would tell our children and grandchildren about years from now. It needed to be something so romantic and wonderful that it would impress the lovely Romilda. I did this right, she wouldn't have any reason to deny me. Then, I thought of something brilliant; Harry could help me. If anything went wrong, then he could help me out; he was the Boy Who Lived after all, he probably knew how to get all the girls. "Could you introduce me?"

He looked at me strangely for a while, unsure of what to say. I'd let him think about it.

So, I wondered off towards the window again. The moon was still in its same position high in the sky, still shining brightly over the Hogwarts grounds. An unbidden smile formed on my lips as I continued to think of the beauty that was Romilda Vane.

I hadn't been sitting there long before Harry came to kneel beside me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Come on Ron," he said, though I had no interest in listening to him; I was too busy looking at the moon. It was almost as she was... "I'm going to introduce you to Romilda Vane."

That got my attention. I looked at him, a smile of gratitude on my face. Harry helped me up from my spot by the window, and we set off towards wherever Romilda was.

We continued down long hallways and secret corridors. We passed several paintings by the changing staircases that laughed as we passed; although I hadn't the faintest idea why...

Soon enough, we stopped in front of a large oak door. I recognized this part of the castle, but I didn't know from where or when. I trusted Harry to lead me in the right direction. After all, he was my best mate, he wouldn't let anything happen to me. Harry knocked on the door three times and suddenly I was very nervous. Was this it? Was I finally meeting Romilda? A small window at the top of the door opened and the butterflies in my stomach raced...

However, Romilda did not appear. Instead it was an old man who looked very confused, but then saw Harry and I waiting at the door. He seemed skeptical at the sight of Harry. Was this Romilda's father?

"I'm sorry sir," Maybe Harry hadn't expected this man to be on the other side of the door either. Maybe we wouldn't find Romilda tonight. My heart lurched and dropped; maybe I wouldn't ever meet her. "I wouldn't bother you if it weren't absolutely essential."

Yes, I knew meeting Romilda tonight was absolutely essential. I had to meet her tonight. If Harry didn't know where Romilda was, maybe this man would.

"Where's Romilda?" I asked. I really hoped this stranger knew where she was. I had to see her; I had to meet her. Immediately.

The man looked at my curiously for a moment, frowned, then turned back to Harry.

"What's the matter with Wimbey?" His face scrunched up in confusion.

Harry leaned close and whispered something to him. I assumed he was telling this new man about our situation and how urgent it was that I see Romilda.

"Very well," the other man answered, his tone extremely serious. "Better bring him in." So was Romilda behind the door, too? Had he granted me permission to see her? I smiled at him as a silent thanks.

He opened the door and let us in. I followed the man I supposed to be Romilda's father as he led us both to a large trunk. He quickly opened it and took out various bottles and boxes as he poured and mixed the miscellaneous items together. His deep frown stayed on his face as he worked.

"I would have thought you could whip up a remedy for this in no time, Harry." A remedy for what?

"Well, I thought this called for more practiced hands, sir." The more I thought about it, I realized Harry was right. I figured this man and Harry were talking about girlfriends. Harry really hadn't had that many of those, only one. I couldn't remember her name, but it didn't matter. No other girl mattered but Romilda. Anyways, it wasn't a long relationship (I could remember that much). I realized it hadn't been exactly smart to ask someone with relationship problems how to get a girl. He couldn't help me. However, this stranger might be able to. Maybe this man wasn't her father after all; he could be some expert on women. If that was so, Harry had been brilliant to bring me here!

I saw him get out several clear crystal goblets and a new clear liquid that looked like some form of alcohol. So, I tried an attempt at practicing my manners; I was going to need it if I was going to impress Romilda.

"Hello, darling. Care for a drink?" And I gave the man a hug.

The man stiffened immediately; was he that shocked over my manners?

He turned to Harry and nodded.

"Perhaps your right."

Then, Harry cam over to me, and guided me over to the couch. I didn't understand, but I could guess it was about time for Romilda to come in. The man looked like he was finishing up the drink. I sat down and took a deep breath, anxious for her to get here.

"I'm sorry by the way, Professor,"Harry began, "About earlier today. Our- our misunderstanding?"

Professor? This man wasn't Romilda's father, then? Was he really some kind of expert Harry had found on women?

"Oh, not at all. All water under the bridge, you know? Correct?" I became bored with their casual conversation; it had absolutely nothing to do with Romilda. I no longer paid attention to what they had to say. Instead, I imagined that I had already met Romilda and we were laughing and dancing. We twirled around the room, spinning in each others embrace. I smiled as I turned and then, abruptly, my fantasy came to a halt. I was sprawled on my back, laying on the floor behind the opposite couch.

Harry rushed over to me, looking me over carefully, his face full of distress. When he saw that I was fine, he shook his head in exasperation and helped me up and onto the overstuffed couch.

"Is Romilda coming yet?" I asked.

"Yes, Ron. She's on her way." Harry rolled his eyes as he answered.

The man came over with a curious looking drink in his hand. The reddish-orange liquid sloshed around the crystal goblet as he shoved it into my hand.

"Here you go boy, bottoms up."

I didn't want to drink it, as I hadn't the faintest idea of what it was. I suspiciously looked at the mysterious drink, doubtful that it was as harmless as they wanted it to look.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Tonic. For the nerves." The man innocently replied. Oh, that wasn't so bad after all. A tonic would be nice right now, the butterflies were violently beating my insides over the prospect of meeting Romilda. Not being so nervous might help me impress Romilda more, I wouldn't have to worry about anything but making a good first impression. I smiled gratefully at the old man and raised my glass slightly to but of them in a form of 'cheers' and took a careful sip.

I felt the cold liquid slither down my throat and with it, all the fuzzy feelings about Romilda drained from my brain. It was like a veil had been lifted off my eyes, the cloud my mind had been under disappeared. Free from my stupor, I recognized the scene around me. I was in Slughorn's office, sitting on one of his ridiculously overstuffed couches. I held a glass of potion in my hand while Harry and Slughorn himself looked at me with hopeful, inquiring eyes; like I was some form of exhibit for display. Harry looked worried, as he glanced from the goblet to me, then back to the goblet. I felt the cold liquid of the potion hit my stomach and I shivered. The strangest sense of depression swept through me; I felt miserable.

"What happened to me?" I asked Harry. I knew my best mate would tell me the whole truth, because as of now, I couldn't recall anything that had happened to me within the last hour or so. The last thing I remembered, I decided to take a bite of the chocolates lying on Harry's bed. The events between then and now were completely back.

With my question, Harry smiled broadly. The tension in the room seemed to melt away.

"Love potion," he snickered.

"And a bloody strong one at that." Slughorn added, taking my cup away from me. Harry laughed and looked back at me.

The depression I felt spiraled deeper and deeper; Harry noticed and raised his eyebrows. I felt so strange, so sad for absolutely no reason. It was like I had been told some really bad news, but I couldn't remember what it was. My heart dropped to my stomach and I felt like sitting here and moping.

"I feel really bad," I admitted.

"You need a pick me up, my boy," Slughorn said cheerfully as he began to rummage through a cabinet in the far corner of the room. "Butterbeer, wine, dazzling oak-matured mead; I had other intentions for this, but I think given the circumstances..." He popped the cork of a large wine bottle and filled three large wine glasses to the brim. He came over, carefully balancing two glasses in between his fingers on one hand and one more in the other. "Here we are Potter," He murmured as he handed Harry his glass, giving one to me, and keeping the last for himself. I desperately needed the warmth of the alcohol to help me get on my feet again so I quickly took a large gulp just as Slughorn declared,"To life! In a happy toast. Harry and Slughorn clinked their glasses together merrily, as my mind went blank.

I fell backwards, landing with a loud thump on the fancy rug beneath us.

I wasn't quite sure what was happening. I felt my body twitch and jerk in quick spasms that rocked my body. I was barely aware of what was going on around me, I couldn't see and I couldn't feel. All I could do was listen as my body locked up in a seizure on the floor.

"Ron!" I heard Harry shout, but his voice sounded distant. "RON! PROFESSOR! DO SOMETHING!"

"I don't understand!" Professor Slughorn yelled miserably.

Heavy footsteps ran towards some unknown destination, when they stopped I could hear some one rummage through a near by container.

My throat was closing up, making it difficult to breathe. I struggled for each breath I gasped into my lungs. My body continued to lurch and quiver on the floor, like a fish out of water.

My hearing faded too. I felt my body become still, and all became nothing.

I drifted off to a peaceful oblivion, enclosed in black nothingness. I couldn't fight it, so I let it come.

All of a sudden, I felt a large rounded object being forced into my mouth and down my throat. Hands tried their best to guide the obstructive thing down, like the wanted me to swallow it. I wanted to force the huge stone-like object out, but the hands insisted otherwise. It scooted down the back of my throat and into my chest, I involuntarily swallowed and it continued down. It hit my stomach, and as soon as it did, my body came alive once more.

I coughed and sputtered, my mouth and throat dry from the rough object being forced into my system. I hesitantly sat up, and I realized Harry sat right there beside me. He backed away and leaned against the couch behind him, taking a deeper breath than necessary. His eyes glanced upwards and he sighed in relief. I continued to wheeze and clear my throat. When all had calmed down, I looked over at my best friend who was now looking anxiously at me.

I thought about everything that had happened tonight. The love potion, apparently hidden in the chocolates, and now the poison. If Harry hadn't been sent those chocolates by that girl, none of this would have happened.

"These girls," I gasped, my voice hoarse and dry, "They're gonna kill me."

Laying back down on the rug, I gasped a few more breaths before a fell into a heavy slumber.

As I drifted, I dreamed.

For a second, all was normal; I wasn't completely sure this was a dream, it seemed too real.

I was in the Gryffindor common room; the enormous fire crackled on the opposite wall, but you couldn't hear it because of the obnoxiously loud rock music playing. Chants of my name echoed in my ears. "WEASLEY! WEASLEY! WEASLEY!" The army of Gryffindors hoisted me up above the crowd and I smiled widely. It felt great to finally be the center of attention; not Ginny, not my brothers, but me.

I punched my fist in the air to the beat as I looked at the excited crowd. Everyone was chanting my name. Something I'd always wanted, ever since that time when I was eleven and looking into the Mirror of Erised. I knew what my deepest desire was; however, attention from anyone, much less my family or schoolmates was something extremely hard to come by. For once, my deepest desire was fulfilled and I was the center of attention.

I recognized this scene from somewhere, a clue that this really was a dream and not reality. It nagged at the back of my mind, wanting me to remember the exact date and time this had happened before, but I was preoccupied at the moment; the loud music keeping me from thinking a single thought. I was busy soaking up the attention I craved. I saw Harry and Hermione talking on the opposite side of the room, next to Seamus, Neville, and Dean. My friends seemed to be having as good of a time as I was. I still couldn't remember when this had happened before...

Then, as I turned around and saw Lavender anxiously wringing her hands, biting her lip like she would chew it off. She looked at me, then quickly back down to her feet.

I instantly recognized this scene...

Was I really dreaming about the night I first started going out with Lavender? Why?

Before I could think anymore about it, Lavender pounced on me. She tried to snog me like she did that night, but I didn't respond. Although I was pretty sure this was a dream, I froze unsure of what to do.

Lavender seemed to realize I wasn't kissing her back and eventually stilled, too. She removed her curly head away from my face and looked at me with utter devastation. The crowd around us seemed oblivious to the situation, strangely cheering as it nothing had happened.

"Won Won?" Lavender pleaded, "Why won't you kiss me?"

I didn't answer, only continued to stand there, arms locked and rigid at my sides. I probably looked like a complete idiot, but I didn't care.

Lavender frowned and gave a little frustrated noise that sounded like a grunt.

"It's because of her, isn't it?"

Her? Who was 'her'? The only girl in my life was Lavender, and she knew that. What other 'her' could there be? Now it was my turn to frown, because I hand't the faintest idea of what she was talking about.

"I KNEW IT!" Lavender shrieked. Before I knew it, she was snogging me again. Bloody hell...

This time was different though. She was more hesitant than she had ever been... Not at all like Lavender...

I felt my unwilling arms start to tangle in her hair as I encouraged her this time, trying to bring her face closer to mine. Then, under my fingers, something extremely strange started to happen.

The soft, smooth curls that belonged to Lavender changed under my hands into something rougher. Her hair was much frizzier and shorter than I remembered. I felt her body become different in my arms; she seemed to shrink all over, much shorter now so I had to lean down to keep kissing her. It didn't feel like I was kissing the same person. In fact, I felt better than Lavender ever did, so I deepened to kiss to an intense snog. One of my hands wandered down to the small of her back, while the other stayed in her wonderfully messy hair.

I continued to snog her; at first she seemed very reluctant to respond, which confused me to no end. I pulled her closer to me with a rough pull, and I felt her finally give in. She was snogging me back.

"Ronald," She moaned.

My body froze for a second time. Lavender had never called me Ronald... In fact, only one person I knew called me by that name.

The girl I had been kissing leaned back, enough for me to see her face.

My eyes bulged as I looked at her. I had not been snogging Lavender.

The girl who looked at me now had a broad smile on her face, one that I hadn't seen in the last few months. Her brown bushy hair stuck out in odd places from where my hands had been; she looked back at me with her brown eyes wide in excitement. Her chest heaved as she tried to calm her breathing.

I had been snogging Hermione Granger.

For what seemed like forever, I stared at her. My mouth gaping and closing so much I probably looked like a fish. Nothing could process in my mind other than the fact I had just snogged Hermione. What on earth had possessed me to do that?

For the first time, the crowd in the Gryffindor common room had become completely silent. No one said a word.

Hermione's smile began to fade, turning into a deep frown; her eyebrows looked permanently stitched together.

"Well?" Her voice cut through the thick silence, "That was..."

What was it, exactly? I felt something I had never felt before when I kissed Hermione; butterflies beat at my insides as I looked at her face, her expression growing more anxious by the second. I actually felt something when I kissed her, unlike Lavender. In truth, I had kissed my best friend, Hermione Granger, and it felt amazing.

So amazing, I wanted to give it another go.

I smiled as I put my hands in hers. They were so smooth, I shivered with pleasure when she rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. She looked down at our joined hands, and almost like she hadn't realized they were connected, she jerked her hand away.

"Hermione..." I mumbled. I took one hand and nudged her chin up so that she would meet my eyes. "Hermione."

Her brown eyes looked so unsure, almost scared. I hated it.

There was one way I knew I could reassure her, I took her in my arms again and I kissed her with such a passion she gasped into my mouth. My hands found their way back to their natural spot, one on her waist and one in her bushy hair. I held her so tight, afraid that she'd disappear if I let her go. "Herm-" I started to whisper her name again, but she cut me off when her tongue edged its way into my mouth. Her mouth was so warm and so soft that I could help but moan in pleasure. Her hands in my hair, tugging at its roots as our tongues battled for dominance. I never thought kissing Hermione of all people would feel this good.

After what seemed like ages, we broke apart. We both gasped for air from the force of the kiss as she laid her head against my chest.

"I love you, Ronald Weasley."

Those words sent a shock of electricity through me. I realized there was something I had been waiting so long to say, something I didn't know I even know about it until five minutes ago. I was in love with my best friend; I loved Hermione Granger.

"I love you too, Hermione."

When I woke, I felt horrible. My whole body was sore and I was lying in a stiff hospital bed. The bright morning light shined directly into my eyes and I squinted in pain. I groaned as I rolled over in my bed and every muscle screamed in protest.

I looked up into the face I was sure I had just seen moments ago in the common room. Hermione Granger was fast asleep on the visitor's chair beside me. Her head tilted at an odd angle in sleep. As I looked at her sleeping face, I wondered if last night really happened. It seemed strange, but I couldn't deny that I was hoping it had.

I guess the only person that could tell me was Hermione, but she looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb her. So, I close my eyes and pretended to sleep for a while.

It must have been another hour before she finally woke. I could tell she was trying to be quiet, but her chair squeaked loudly against the linoleum floors as she scooted it closer to me. I pretended to have just woken up as Hermione took my hand.

She looked extremely beautiful in the early morning shining in from the windows. The sun provided a glow around her, and I gasped. With my sound, she noticed I was awake. Consequently, she jerked her hand out out mine. I immediately felt sad at the loss of contact.

"Ron!" She said, "You're awake!"

"Well, yeah," I replied, smirking. Now that I was awake, and she was too, I needed to figure out what happened last night. I wanted to kiss her again right now, but if last night was a dream, it would be a little awkward. However, I couldn't just come right out and ask her if we snogged last night; I had to be subtle about it. Maybe I should ask her about why I was in the hospital wing... "Hermione," I began, my voice rough with sleep, "What happened?" There, that sounded right. That question could fit into several categories like, 'Why am I in the hospital wing?' or 'What happened between us last night?'.

Instantly, she began a little uncomfortable. She squirmed in her seat as she decided how best to answer.

"Um... Well, lots of things, actually. Honestly, Ronald, it's lucky you're alive." The way she said my name reminded me of how she said it last night. My breathing automatically quickened. "You were poisoned. In fact, if Harry hadn't been there..."

Harry? Why was she talking about Harry? The likelihood of last night actually happening was dramatically decreasing.

"Poisoned?" I asked.

"Yes, Ronald, poisoned. You were under a love potion and Harry took you to see Professor Slughorn to get an antidote. He cured you, but the effects of the antidote left you depressed. Professor Slughorn gave you a drink, but it was poisoned. Harry saved you with a bezoar." She was talking so fast, I could hardly understand what she was saying. Although, if I was poisoned, I highly doubted I snogged Hermione last night. It must have been a dream after all. I felt really depressed.

"Harry saved me?" I questioned, keeping the conversation off what I was thinking: my dream kiss with the exact person I was talking to.

"Yes. You really don't remember anything, do you?"

I remembered what it felt like to have her lips on mine, her slim body in my embrace. That was more important than remembering a close call with death. I shook my head, not wanting to remember being under the love potion, or poisoned. I figured I could try one more time to see if anything happened between Hermione and I last night.

"Did anything else happen last night?" I couldn't help the hint of hope that crept into my voice.

Hermione seemed hesitant for a moment before she reluctantly spoke. Her expression seemed worried, like it did in the dream from last night.

"I- I don't know how to tell you this Ron, but..." She began. My heart was racing.

"But what?"

"When you were asleep last night, you talked." My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. I didn't kiss her, but I talked? I was terrified at what I could have said.

"And what did I say?" I said, swallowing loudly. This was it...

"Well, Lavender was here. She heard you talking in your sleep," She looked me straight in the eye, a hopeful glint in her brown ones. "You said some things, and... You kind of... You broke up with her."

I broke up with Lavender? A relieved sigh escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

"You sound relieved?" Hermione frowned, but I could still see that small speck of hope in her eyes.

"I'm bloody thrilled, Hermione!" I said, unable to keep in my excitement. Yeah, I'm sure Lavender probably hated me now, but I couldn't bring myself to care. After that dream last night, I knew it would've had to happen soon. I was just glad I wasn't concious to witness it.

"Thrilled?" She was utterly baffled. "But, Ron, you unintentionally broke up with your girlfriend."

"She wasn't for me." You are, I thought.

"Oh," Hermione sighed, as smile crept onto her lips.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey burst through the doors, towards Hermione and I.

"I told you to come and get me when he woke up!" Madame Pomfrey yelled. I wanted to pretend that I was asleep again, but it was too late. I sighed in resignation as I let the nurse look me over.

Two days later, Madame Pomfrey released me from the hospital wing. Hermione stayed by my side the entire time I was in there, insisting I needed her help; I didn't complain. Harry and Ginny came by too, but they never were there as long as Hermione was.

It was breakfast and I sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table. She sat beside me reading the Prophet as Harry sat across from the both of us reading his potions book. He was becoming too much like Hermione; I understood you needed to study every once in a while to get good marks, but reading spell books for enjoyment was just insane.

I sat there, not touching my breakfast. Lavender sat behind Harry at the other table beside the huge fireplace; she gripped the fork in her hand to tightly her knuckles were white. Hermione had never told me what I said to break up with Lavender, but I had the feeling it was something awful. Even though I was glad to be rid of her, I felt bad for her. She glared at me, obviously still furious about whatever I said in my sleep.

It didn't help that my dream about Hermione was just that; a dream. I wanted to snog her senseless so bad, but I couldn't because no one had made the first move. I was sure that I couldn't reenact the kiss with Lavender and have the same affects of the dream. Besides, what would Hermione want in a guy like me? I wasn't smart or handsome. There were five other Weasley boys just like me. I was nothing special. Hermione, she was brilliant and beautiful.

Hermione's voice brought me out of my inner ramblings.

"Stop it, Ron. You're making it snow!"

I hadn't even noticed; white specks were floating from the ceiling right above where we were. Harry brushed the snowflakes off his book and continued to read.

Then, my mind focused on something else. Something I though of just a few seconds earlier.

"Tell me how I broke up with Lavender again," I said.

When Hermione first told me what happened, she had been very brief about it.

"Well," she began looking somewhat worried. Harry looked up, interested. "S-S-She came to visit you in the hospital, and you... talked." She stuttered as she looked back and forth from Harry to me. It looked more like she was telling Harry about it than answering my question. Then, she look away from both of us, fixing her gaze on something over Harry's shoulder. "I don't believe it was a particularly long conversation."

Hermione acted as if she knew more than she let on, but I wasn't going to question her about it in front of Harry, so i changed the subject.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm bloody thrilled to be shot of her. It's... She seems a bit put out." All three of us looked over at the clearly fuming Lavender. She now held her spoon in her vice-tight grip, her teeth bared as if she was a rabid animal.

"Yes, she does, doesn't she?" Hermione said with a smirk. Then, she abruptly turned serious. "You say you don't remember anything? From that night... Anything... At all?"

The way she sounded, I knew she was keeping something. I frowned, did something happen while I was unconscious? Had I said something while I was dreaming of the kiss? I looked ahead of me, thinking hard. I remembered holding Hermione's hand in the dream, though it felt more solid than our other touches.

"There is something..." Maybe she had kissed me while I was unconscious. Maybe that was why the dream felt so real.

I noticed Harry look at Hermione and I, almost amused. Did he know something as well?

"But it can't be." I determined. Hermione wouldn't think of me anything more than a friend. The whole dream was absurd; wonderful, but absurd. "I was completely boggled wasn't I?" I was delirious with the last remnants of love potion clouding my mind.

"Quite," Hermione, sighed. "Boggled."

And I was still boggled, even now. I'd realized my feelings for Hermione, I just didn't know what to do with them.

A/N: I think this is my favorite story I've written thus far. Tell me how you liked/not liked it in a review (You can also give me some suggestions on some scenes you would like me to write!). Please it's the nice thing to do :) Reviewers might even get their own personal Ron!

P.S: Check out my other Harry Potter stories! They're full of angsty goodness :)