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Chapter 1 : The Blanket
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In all my years I had never thought that you would leave us. You had always been there for me – except in our fights, of course – and you had always cared about me and wanted to protect me. You constantly tried to protect me from Malfoy, the Ministry, and anything else that was remotely threatening. You danced with me at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and you even held my hand at Grimmauld Place when I admitted to you that I was scared of dying.
How could all of that have meant so little to you?
I came back inside, drenched to the skin, crying harder than I ever had in my life. Harder than when you dated Lavender, or when we fought after the Yule Ball, or when we fought in third year. I had never felt more alone than I did now, and it scared me. I was scared you wouldn’t come back, you wouldn’t return. The only other time I had felt this scared was when you were poisoned, and I thought I would never again be able to hear your voice or look into your eyes.
When I came back in and saw the lack of hope on Harry’s face, I felt myself breaking down even more. I threw myself onto a nearby chair and cried more and more. Nothing could possibly make this worse than it already was. But I was wrong.
I realize that Harry didn’t mean to be so cruel; he probably wasn’t even aware of what it was. When he tried to do an act of kindness by covering me with a blanket, I imagine he was only half-aware that the blanket he gave me was from your bunk.
And it smelled like you.
Do you have any idea what that’s like? I was there, crying because you left me, and all of a sudden you’re all around me. Your scent was still on the blanket, and if I closed my eyes, I could pretend its warmth was your arms around me. I didn’t want to take the blanket off because I wanted – and needed – you.
I didn’t sleep at all that first night – or many others, for that matter. The first night was the hardest I’ve ever had to get through. At first, all I could think about was all of our fights over the years, the awful things we’d said to each other. When I could no longer stand to think about those awful memories, I began to think about the day we met.
I was scared that day, too, because I’ve never fit in with any of the children I’ve known. In my Muggle school I was just a know-it-all who occasionally did very weird things that I didn’t understand at the time to be my magical powers.
I was terrified to begin at Hogwarts, and so I used my love of reading and knowledge to aid me. I lost count of how many times I read Hogwarts, A History even before we got to the school, but that was my way of coping. Through asserting myself academically, I was able to gain some confidence.
When I met you and Harry on the train that day, I felt that I didn’t need you. I had prepared myself to the best of my ability, and I knew that I’d succeed. What use had I for two boys?
But I did need you. Harry sat there looking modest and put-together, but in all honesty, he only caught my attention because he was Harry Potter. When I turned to you, I remember being rather rude, but I also said something that I realized later was the beginning of it all; “You have dirt on your nose.”
Even at twelve years old, I noticed you. The most famous wizard alive was sitting across from you, but I noticed you. Once we began to become friends, I knew that I needed your friendship. Last year, when I was home for the holidays with my parents, I spent most of the time crying. My mum startled me one night when she said, “How long have you loved Ron?”
Even my mum knew – because I talk about you so often. “You’re one of Harry Potter’s closest friends, and yet I know more about Ron Weasley,” she had told me. That’s when I realized that not only did I like you, but I was head over heels in love with you. My feelings started much earlier than that – my mum told me she knew I liked you back in third year – but it took me ages to come to terms with them.
Once I figured out my own feelings, I realized that you fancied me. At least, you had. Why else would you have been so jealous of Viktor taking me to the Yule Ball? I only wish now that I had told you the truth a long time ago.
How much of a difference that would have made if I had told you before you dated Lavender. I could have fulfilled my deepest desire; If only I was braver.
I don’t know that I could ever say this to you in person, but you are my knight, Ron. You have always helped me, and I thank you for it. Through it all, you’ve always helped me when I needed it most. When I arrived at your place after erasing my parents’ memories, you sat with me and held me while I cried. I thought that was probably the sweetest thing you’d ever done for me. For anyone, really.
You always said that you didn’t matter; that in our group you were the least valuable of trio. That isn’t true at all. In fact, it is the complete opposite. You are the key to our trio, and since you left four days ago, Harry and I have hardly talked. We need you.
I still clearly remember the day that you and I went to Hogsmeade for the first time and without Harry. I was so nervous that I’d make a fool of myself, and you were so chivalrous and amazing. You’ve always lacked confidence in yourself, but I want you to know that I have complete faith in you. I always have, and I always will.
The nights are the hardest to get through. In the dark, I sit in silence and replay the last few moments with you over and over in my mind. Those six words that were almost an accusation from you; so critical and cold. I get it. You choose him. No matter how hard I try, my thoughts always turn to the night you left, and my heart breaks a little more.
And then I go to sleep, and in my dreams I am haunted by images of you. Every night it’s as though I play the same montage of memories in my mind. I may as well be a Pensieve – that’s how clear my memories are in my dreams. All my dreams are of the sweetest moments we’ve spent together, and that’s when I feel closest to you. But then my dreams end, and the morning comes. Morning is the worst of all; worse than the beautiful dreams, worse than the horrid nights. I wake up with you on my mind only to find that I am alone. Every single time. I long for the day when I wake up and you are there again.
I miss you more than anyone could possibly understand. Although he doesn’t show it on the outside as much as I do, Harry is hurting, too. He has pulled away from me, to the point where we barely speak. We are each alone with our own horrible thoughts. I’ve seen him pull out the Marauder’s Map and watch Ginny’s dot late at night when he thinks I don’t see him. He hasn’t said as much, but I think he’s also looking for you.
I don’t have anything else to say to you for now, except to beg you to come back. That’s pointless though, seeing as this is a letter that you won’t get for awhile. I will give it to you someday though, because I know you will come back to us… to me.
I love you,
A/N: This idea came to me awhile back, after one of my many times spent re-reading Deathly Hallows. As I was reading through, I caught something that I hadn’t before seen – that when Harry places a blanket on Hermione after Ron leaves, it’s a blanket from Ron’s bunk. That’s why this story is called The Blanket, because it is from there that the idea sprung. Since Hermione is so in love with Ron, that had to be a bit of a blow. It was only after I started writing that I decided to make it a letter. So anyway, I hope you’ve enjoyed it! It’s a bit different from anything I’ve written for them.
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