Unmasked Truths

Disclaimer: The plot of this fan fiction belongs to me, however characters, settings, and words originally copyrighted by JK Rowling, Warner Bros., and all other affiliated companies, DO NOT belong to me. They are the property of the aforementioned. I am making no money off of this; it is simply meant to be enjoyed.

Author's Note: Thank you to my beta, Kitty, who's appreciation for a certain line cough inspired me to post this.

The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and Ron Weasley was a not a very happy young man. He sighed bitterly as he glanced out at the gorgeous blue sky. Not only had he gotten into a very big row with Harry, but he had scared Hermione off in the process. He hadn't meant to snap at her when she had asked him, in a rather concerned manner, actually, why his face was all flushed, but he did, causing her to storm off in the direction of the library.

It wasn't her fault that Harry was a stupid git, who had decided that snogging Ginny in one of the astronomy towers was an acceptable afternoon activity, but Ron sure had acted that way. He wished he knew where she was, but after searching every odd end of the library, he gave up his search and decided to spend his time moping in said astronomy tower by himself for the remainder of the afternoon. At least he could sit up there alone until dinner, when his rumbling stomach would sure enough force him out of his hiding.

He felt bad that Hermione had found herself in the middle of the crossfire. After Harry had stormed out of the portrait hole, with Ginny on his arm, to Ron's chagrin, Ron had spent the next few minutes pacing the common room floor, contemplating ways to murder Harry in three flicks of a wand or less. Unfortunately, Hermione had chosen that same moment to walk into the common room with her nose in a book, bumping straight into Ron's heaving chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she had said. "I guess I wasn't watching where I was going, you know, I was reading this very interesting book about magical studies in the sixteenth century and I guess I got a bit carried away. You should really look over it some time it's really quite-" She had then chosen that particular moment to look up at Ron's scowling, red, agitated face. "Oh Ron, your face is really flushed, maybe you should go-"

But she didn't have time to finish. He had cut her off, shouting "No, Hermione, I don't think I need to go see Madam Pomfrey, thanks. To be honest with you, my day hasn't been exactly bloody wonderful, so I'd appreciate if you would keep your stupid advice to yourself this one time, because nothing you say is going to change things for me".

And that was the first time he had ever seen real hurt in her eyes. Sure, there were the occasions where she'd been called a mudblood, but that was annoyance, not pain. Then there were their countless other rows, which could be considered to be more playful than hurtful. He watched her large brown eyes fill with tears, ones that he was sure that she would not shed in front of him, in order to hide the hurt he knew he had caused her. He tried to reach out and grab her arm as she turned to leave him, but he missed it, his fingers barely brushing her skin.

He had stood there, his mouth agape. He put his fingers to his chin, thinking very hard, as if questioning if that incident had just really occurred, or whether it may have been a dream, a nightmare really, of some sort. When he decided that yes, he had just acted like a tremendous prat and lashed out at Hermione with no just cause, he stormed after her, figuring his large strides would surely catch up to her much smaller ones.

He saw her speeding down the hallway that led to the library, but a large mass of congregating second years had prevented him from catching up to her. In the big jumble, he had managed to lose sight of her completely, although he figured that she would seek solace in the library, where she was surrounded by countless volumes that would surely take her mind off of a great red-headed prat. Once he arrived at the library, he had spent no less than an hour searching for her, and ended up empty-handed.

Ron Weasley was not a very happy young man, but he had gotten what he deserved. It was his fault that he was spending the afternoon up in the fourth astronomy tower, watching as the world around him spun, the people around him laughed, and girl he loved cried.

He could see Hermione, staring out the window of the third astronomy tower which was right next to his. He could only just make out her figure, but he could faintly hear the sound of sobs, he could see the way her head was resting her hands, and he could tell that her shoulders were shaking. He slumped to the floor.

He couldn't just go over there and talk to her, she would probably just run away again, and he didn't want that at all. Instead, he just watched her, contemplating his next move. She had stopped crying now, it appeared, and she was staring down on the Hogwarts grounds, just as he had many times when he was too forlorn to engage in the busyness below, only having the strength to watch from high, high above.

He didn't know exactly what he was going to say to her, but he took off down the astronomy tower steps, figuring that he would just say what came to mind when he saw her. His large feet made quite a racket as he thundered down the hall, but when he reached the steps to Hermione's tower, he softened his footsteps as not to alert her of his presence.

When he got to the top of the stairs, he was not ready for the sight that awaited him. Hermione was staring off into the distance, Her eyes were red-rimmed, but glistening beautifully, her deep chocolate stare seemingly entranced with something below her. Her hair had been hastily put in some sort of twist with only a pencil keeping it up and out of her face. She was poised, her gaze never drifting from whatever breathtaking sight she seemed to be beholding. Ron, curious to see what was so captivating that it kept Hermione from noticing an intruder to her solitude, quietly crept over to the window and looked out as well. That' when he saw it.

Harry and Ginny were sitting by the lake, staring out at the horizon, as a beautiful sunset filled the sky with pinks, purples, oranges, and golds. His arm was around her waist, her head on his shoulder. They were still, until Ginny lifted her head, used her hand to turn Harry's face towards her own, and leaned in, kissing him tenderly. Even from their distance from the couple, high above the grounds, Ron knew that what he and Hermione were witnessing was love, a professed love, a love that they too could have if only one of them had the courage to admit to the other their feelings. He knew it was time.

"Hermione…"he began.

"Am I really that horrible Ron? Am I really that much of a nag that you can't listen to me without becoming bitter?" she asked, in quiet, trembling voice.

"Hermione, no. You don't understand. I-I'm a complete and utter prat. You've no idea. Well, actually you probably do, but I honestly had no reason to say those things to you. You were just the first person I came across, and I needed to get my frustration out, and-"

"What made you so angry?" she whispered, her wide eyes boring into his own.

"Well, you see" he began, "I came up to the astronomy tower today to be alone for awhile, and when I got there, well let's just say I definitely wasn't alone. Harry and Ginny were…they were…snogging." He said this last word in an embarrassed whisper.

"Don't tell me you didn't know about those two?" Hermione mused, seeming as if she had almost forgotten that she was upset with him. Almost.

"You knew! And you didn't even tell me? Thanks a lot, Hermione. I guess everyone knew that Harry and my sister were snogging partners except for myself".

"They aren't just snogging partners, Ron, as you can tell. They're much, much more, actually. He told her that he loves her".

Ron's jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Love? What do they know about love?" "A lot, apparently. Just look," she said, gesturing out the window.

Ron stared down, not sure whether to be pleased or horrified at the sight. His best friend was lying on his back, with his baby sister on top of him, engaged in what seemed to be a very heated, but loving, kiss.

"She's really very lucky, Ginny…" Hermione went on. "She's fancied Harry for years and he's finally come around. She's done waiting". Her eyes had glazed over, and she had unconsciously moved a bit closer to Ron.

"Well, are you still waiting? Er- that is, is there anyone you're waiting for?" Ron asked, not being able to mask the tremors in his voice.

"You tell me," she said, both her voice and her stare intense.

He answered with a kiss, one that was full of longing, desperation, tenderness, and what could have been a hint of love. Years of anticipation and waiting, insecurity and uncertainty, and hidden feelings and masked truths finally came to a breaking point, in a kiss most powerful. It was a kiss that embodied adventure, it was a kiss that held much love, it was as soft as a whisper, but still it held the promises of forever.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, they knew they had found what they were looking for.