Let the Truth be Told
By: Trixie009
Disclaimer: I completely disclaim owning Moaning Myrtle, Madam Pince, and Dennis Creevey. There. Satisfied?
A/N: I am so sorry for the long update. Fanfiction wouldn't let me upload a new chapter for three days after I had it ready! Last chapter! :( Noooooooooooo...well, please review and enjoy reading!
On with the story!
Day Seven
-----
"Ah...I love Christmas," Ron said, sticking his nose in the air and smelling the aroma of Christmas dinner, snow, and new presents.
"Don't we all?" said Hermione as the two took a seat across from each other at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
"We all do," Ron responded, taking off his sweater--a new one from his mother, maroon with a large "R" on it.
"What's your least favorite thing about Christmas?" Hermione asked.
"It only lasts one day," Ron said immediately. He then lowered his voice and asked her, "Will you give me a clue about the guy you fancy?"
"Why are you so interested about him, anyways?"
"Er--I, I don't know! I mean, I have the right to know, I'm your best friend!"
"Harry's my best friend and he doesn't bug me about guys that I fancy!"
"What do you mean 'guys'? Is there more? Are you turning into a scarlet woman?"
Hermione scowled. "No, I most certainly am not, Ronald Bilius Weasley! I only fancy one guy, not like it's your business, anyways--"
"It is too my business, Hermione Jane!" Ron interrupted. "I should know what you think about guys and--"
"Do you mean you should know, or you want to know?" Hermione asked, hiding all hope that flowed through her.
"That's not the point!"
"Oh, I think that the point is that you are jealous. You're jealous of the guy I like, Ron. You hated Lockhart, you hated Viktor, and if, right now, I said I fancied Harry, you'd hate him, too! You're just a selfish, nosy, annoying, jealous Weasley and I am getting sick of it! I don't have time to give you little clues about the boys I fancy! I don't have time to deal with all of the crap you give me! I don't have time to be with you, right now, Ronald Bilius. I'm going to do some more homework. Seeing as you probably have no idea what homework we might have, I'm expecting you to not follow and just sit here eating and complaining about Viktor or Gilderoy!"
And with that, Hermione slammed her hand on the table and, picking up her bag, stormed out of the Great Hall. Ron was shocked and speechless, but he jumped up and followed her.
Ron finally caught up with Hermione right outside of the Library. "Hermione," he said, panting. "Hermione, I--I don't want you to be mad at me. Come on, it's Christmas, let's go have fun."
Hermione, scowling, said, "Have fun doing what, may I ask?"
"I don't know. We can continue our game or play Chess or eat or something! I just can't stand us having fights all of the time."
"If you hate fighting, then why do you fight, Ron?"
"I can't help it."
"Oh, I'm sure you can. If you blurt out some rude or obscene comment, I'm sure you can blurt out an apology."
"I'm sorry."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "That's not the point."
"I think the point is that you don't like being mad at me, either."
"Who said there was a point in the first place?"
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Oh--I--whatever, Ron. We can do something, sure, we can. But right now? I mean, I haven't done a lot of homework this vacation and I really need to get it done. I can't be slacking all of the time like this, I might drop."
"Oh, yeah, drop to what? An Outstanding? Come on, Hermione. You're doing excellent on your homework and school stuff. Can't you have a little bit of fun?"
"I have been having fun, Ron! I've had a fun week so far and I need to get my homework done!"
"Ha! You've just admitted it!"
"Admitted what?"
"You've just admitted that you had fun with me. So you don't like having fights, either, do you?"
"No, I don't, Ron. I hate it. But I really need to do homework--"
"And I really need to do something fun. With you."
Hermione sighed and looked into the eager blue eyes gazing at her. "Okay, fine. We can go do something. But what?"
"Let's finish our game," Ron answered, starting into a walk.
"Okay," Hermione said, following as they strolled the corridor. "He's been my friend since our first year."
"Who?"
"The guy I fancy."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm answering the question you asked earlier. That's a clue. What is something about her?"
"Who?"
"Agh, Ron! The girl you fancy! Give me a clue!"
"Oh, right. We've been friends since our first year. What hair color does he have?"
"I am not going to answer that."
"Why not?"
"Just ask something else," Hermione pleaded.
"What eye color does he have?"
"Blue. What color hair does she have?"
"Brown. What year is he in?" Ron asked.
"Sixth. What House is she in?"
"Gryffindor," Ron answered. "What House is he in?"
"Gryffindor. What eye color does she have?"
"Er--brown. What hair color does he have?"
"You already asked that, Ron, and I said I'm not going to answer."
"Why not?"
"Because--er--never mind. Well, it isn't blonde, I'll tell you that. What year is she in?"
"Sixth."
"Okay, these are getting narrowed down. So, she is in our year, in Gryffindor, with brown hair and brown eyes," Hermione said, thinking.
"Er--yeah, okay, what's your biggest goal?"
"My goal? Er--well, I want to graduate from Hogwarts with top marks in everything, great N.E.W.T.s, and I want to be Head Girl."
"That's a lot, Hermione," Ron said.
"I know, but, I want a lot from my life. What's your goal?"
"I'm going to find out who he is by tomorrow."
"Oh, really?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, really."
"Okay, Ron," Hermione said, turning a corner and entering the Great Hall.
"Okay, 'Mione," Ron said, following her to the Gryffindor table.
-----
Later that evening, in the Common Room, many Gryffindors were sharing stories and presents, eating candies and chocolates, and drinking butterbeer. Ron and Hermione, however, were sitting in two armchairs by the fire with the hearthrug at their feet in complete silence.
"Shall we play Chess?"
"No, thanks. Are you up for a stroll around the lake?"
"Are you crazy? It's freezing out. I was thinking about sneaking to the kitchens and--"
"Ron, no."
"Okay, maybe not. What about we eat some of my mum's homemade fudge?"
"I'm not hungry. Do you want a drink of my tea?"
"Sure," Ron accepted, taking the hot mug into his hands and drinking from it. "Delicious," he said, wiping his mouth with his sweater sleeve and handing back the mug.
"Thanks. I made it myself."
"So, shall we continue the game?"
"I guess. In here, though?" Hermione asked, gesturing towards the other Gryffindors scattered across the room.
"Er--okay, maybe not."
"Chess, then?"
Ron, grinning, said, "Chess. Sounds great."
-----
By the time they ended their game and had some fudge and tea, Ron and Hermione were exhausted as they flopped onto their armchairs.
"It's 11:52, Hermione."
"And?" Hermione asked, unenthused.
"And I'm supposed to figure out who you fancy by tomorrow."
Hermione's stomach dropped. She had completely forgotten about what he had said earlier. "Er--it's really, no big deal, Ron."
"Oh, I think it is."
"No, it most certainly is not."
"Blimey, I feel bad for the guy you fancy. When I find out who it is, I'll go tell him that he isn't a big deal."
"I mean it isn't a big deal for you to know."
"Come on, Hermione, you're no fun!"
"Please, Ron, just--stop."
"Stop what?" Ron asked.
"Stop bugging me."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Let's continue the game, shall we?"
Hermione's stomach fell lower. "Fine..." she whispered, avoiding eye contact.
Ron stood up and stretched his arms high above his head before looking down at Hermione and asking, "Who do you fancy?"
Hermione gulped and looked down at her hands, which were fiddling nervously on her lap.
Ron repeated, "Who do you fancy, Hermione?"
"Who do you fancy, Ron?"
"I asked first."
"Will you tell me if I tell you?" Hermione asked.
"Yes."
"Okay. It's, uh...well, you, Ron," Hermione answered, looking at her feet and feeling her face heat up.
Ron couldn't have felt happier in his whole life.
"Who do you fancy?" Hermione mumbled, feeling close to tears.
"You, Hermione."
Hermione swallowed a hard lump in her throat. "Er--are you--serious?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
"I'm serious," Ron answered. He held back a strong smile that was ready to burst through him.
Hermione's eyes sparkled with tears. "It's, uh, your turn to ask a question."
"Can I kiss you?"
Hermione wanted to cry, scream, and laugh all at the same time. She did manage an odd noise to come out of her nose, but she covered it by laughing. She stood up and looked into Ron's deep blue eyes.
"Yes, Ron. You can kiss me."
Ron beamed, unable to hold it in and reached forward, holding her hand in his. He caressed her hand with his fingertips and Hermione smiled through her tears. Ron took a small step towards her, and she followed his lead. He put his other hand on her waist and looked lovingly down into her brown eyes. She hesitantly let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing a tear to trickle down her cheek. Ron wiped it away and pulled her close with both arms around her waist. Slowly, Ron bent his neck down and closed his eyes. Hermione stood on tiptoe and pressed herself closer to him, pursing her lips.
Ron lost the space between them and pressed his lips down on hers sweetly. Hermione kissed him back, taking in every emotion flowing through her.
-----
"What's your favorite color?"
"Blue. What's your favorite kind of sandwich?"
"Hot ham and cheese. What's your least favorite sandwich?"
"Corned beef. What's your least favorite candy?"
"Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans. Yours?"
"I don't have one!"
-----
A/N: That last bit was an "epilogue" that's weeks or months, or maybe a year later. Please review and I hope you enjoyed my story! :D (Oh, and about Harry being gone all of the time, use your imagination. Maybe he's sick, or he's hanging out with Ginny or whoever you like him best with ;) )
That is all.
By: Trixie009
Disclaimer: I completely disclaim owning Moaning Myrtle, Madam Pince, and Dennis Creevey. There. Satisfied?
A/N: I am so sorry for the long update. Fanfiction wouldn't let me upload a new chapter for three days after I had it ready! Last chapter! :( Noooooooooooo...well, please review and enjoy reading!
On with the story!
Day Seven
-----
"Ah...I love Christmas," Ron said, sticking his nose in the air and smelling the aroma of Christmas dinner, snow, and new presents.
"Don't we all?" said Hermione as the two took a seat across from each other at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
"We all do," Ron responded, taking off his sweater--a new one from his mother, maroon with a large "R" on it.
"What's your least favorite thing about Christmas?" Hermione asked.
"It only lasts one day," Ron said immediately. He then lowered his voice and asked her, "Will you give me a clue about the guy you fancy?"
"Why are you so interested about him, anyways?"
"Er--I, I don't know! I mean, I have the right to know, I'm your best friend!"
"Harry's my best friend and he doesn't bug me about guys that I fancy!"
"What do you mean 'guys'? Is there more? Are you turning into a scarlet woman?"
Hermione scowled. "No, I most certainly am not, Ronald Bilius Weasley! I only fancy one guy, not like it's your business, anyways--"
"It is too my business, Hermione Jane!" Ron interrupted. "I should know what you think about guys and--"
"Do you mean you should know, or you want to know?" Hermione asked, hiding all hope that flowed through her.
"That's not the point!"
"Oh, I think that the point is that you are jealous. You're jealous of the guy I like, Ron. You hated Lockhart, you hated Viktor, and if, right now, I said I fancied Harry, you'd hate him, too! You're just a selfish, nosy, annoying, jealous Weasley and I am getting sick of it! I don't have time to give you little clues about the boys I fancy! I don't have time to deal with all of the crap you give me! I don't have time to be with you, right now, Ronald Bilius. I'm going to do some more homework. Seeing as you probably have no idea what homework we might have, I'm expecting you to not follow and just sit here eating and complaining about Viktor or Gilderoy!"
And with that, Hermione slammed her hand on the table and, picking up her bag, stormed out of the Great Hall. Ron was shocked and speechless, but he jumped up and followed her.
Ron finally caught up with Hermione right outside of the Library. "Hermione," he said, panting. "Hermione, I--I don't want you to be mad at me. Come on, it's Christmas, let's go have fun."
Hermione, scowling, said, "Have fun doing what, may I ask?"
"I don't know. We can continue our game or play Chess or eat or something! I just can't stand us having fights all of the time."
"If you hate fighting, then why do you fight, Ron?"
"I can't help it."
"Oh, I'm sure you can. If you blurt out some rude or obscene comment, I'm sure you can blurt out an apology."
"I'm sorry."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "That's not the point."
"I think the point is that you don't like being mad at me, either."
"Who said there was a point in the first place?"
Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Oh--I--whatever, Ron. We can do something, sure, we can. But right now? I mean, I haven't done a lot of homework this vacation and I really need to get it done. I can't be slacking all of the time like this, I might drop."
"Oh, yeah, drop to what? An Outstanding? Come on, Hermione. You're doing excellent on your homework and school stuff. Can't you have a little bit of fun?"
"I have been having fun, Ron! I've had a fun week so far and I need to get my homework done!"
"Ha! You've just admitted it!"
"Admitted what?"
"You've just admitted that you had fun with me. So you don't like having fights, either, do you?"
"No, I don't, Ron. I hate it. But I really need to do homework--"
"And I really need to do something fun. With you."
Hermione sighed and looked into the eager blue eyes gazing at her. "Okay, fine. We can go do something. But what?"
"Let's finish our game," Ron answered, starting into a walk.
"Okay," Hermione said, following as they strolled the corridor. "He's been my friend since our first year."
"Who?"
"The guy I fancy."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm answering the question you asked earlier. That's a clue. What is something about her?"
"Who?"
"Agh, Ron! The girl you fancy! Give me a clue!"
"Oh, right. We've been friends since our first year. What hair color does he have?"
"I am not going to answer that."
"Why not?"
"Just ask something else," Hermione pleaded.
"What eye color does he have?"
"Blue. What color hair does she have?"
"Brown. What year is he in?" Ron asked.
"Sixth. What House is she in?"
"Gryffindor," Ron answered. "What House is he in?"
"Gryffindor. What eye color does she have?"
"Er--brown. What hair color does he have?"
"You already asked that, Ron, and I said I'm not going to answer."
"Why not?"
"Because--er--never mind. Well, it isn't blonde, I'll tell you that. What year is she in?"
"Sixth."
"Okay, these are getting narrowed down. So, she is in our year, in Gryffindor, with brown hair and brown eyes," Hermione said, thinking.
"Er--yeah, okay, what's your biggest goal?"
"My goal? Er--well, I want to graduate from Hogwarts with top marks in everything, great N.E.W.T.s, and I want to be Head Girl."
"That's a lot, Hermione," Ron said.
"I know, but, I want a lot from my life. What's your goal?"
"I'm going to find out who he is by tomorrow."
"Oh, really?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, really."
"Okay, Ron," Hermione said, turning a corner and entering the Great Hall.
"Okay, 'Mione," Ron said, following her to the Gryffindor table.
-----
Later that evening, in the Common Room, many Gryffindors were sharing stories and presents, eating candies and chocolates, and drinking butterbeer. Ron and Hermione, however, were sitting in two armchairs by the fire with the hearthrug at their feet in complete silence.
"Shall we play Chess?"
"No, thanks. Are you up for a stroll around the lake?"
"Are you crazy? It's freezing out. I was thinking about sneaking to the kitchens and--"
"Ron, no."
"Okay, maybe not. What about we eat some of my mum's homemade fudge?"
"I'm not hungry. Do you want a drink of my tea?"
"Sure," Ron accepted, taking the hot mug into his hands and drinking from it. "Delicious," he said, wiping his mouth with his sweater sleeve and handing back the mug.
"Thanks. I made it myself."
"So, shall we continue the game?"
"I guess. In here, though?" Hermione asked, gesturing towards the other Gryffindors scattered across the room.
"Er--okay, maybe not."
"Chess, then?"
Ron, grinning, said, "Chess. Sounds great."
-----
By the time they ended their game and had some fudge and tea, Ron and Hermione were exhausted as they flopped onto their armchairs.
"It's 11:52, Hermione."
"And?" Hermione asked, unenthused.
"And I'm supposed to figure out who you fancy by tomorrow."
Hermione's stomach dropped. She had completely forgotten about what he had said earlier. "Er--it's really, no big deal, Ron."
"Oh, I think it is."
"No, it most certainly is not."
"Blimey, I feel bad for the guy you fancy. When I find out who it is, I'll go tell him that he isn't a big deal."
"I mean it isn't a big deal for you to know."
"Come on, Hermione, you're no fun!"
"Please, Ron, just--stop."
"Stop what?" Ron asked.
"Stop bugging me."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Let's continue the game, shall we?"
Hermione's stomach fell lower. "Fine..." she whispered, avoiding eye contact.
Ron stood up and stretched his arms high above his head before looking down at Hermione and asking, "Who do you fancy?"
Hermione gulped and looked down at her hands, which were fiddling nervously on her lap.
Ron repeated, "Who do you fancy, Hermione?"
"Who do you fancy, Ron?"
"I asked first."
"Will you tell me if I tell you?" Hermione asked.
"Yes."
"Okay. It's, uh...well, you, Ron," Hermione answered, looking at her feet and feeling her face heat up.
Ron couldn't have felt happier in his whole life.
"Who do you fancy?" Hermione mumbled, feeling close to tears.
"You, Hermione."
Hermione swallowed a hard lump in her throat. "Er--are you--serious?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
"I'm serious," Ron answered. He held back a strong smile that was ready to burst through him.
Hermione's eyes sparkled with tears. "It's, uh, your turn to ask a question."
"Can I kiss you?"
Hermione wanted to cry, scream, and laugh all at the same time. She did manage an odd noise to come out of her nose, but she covered it by laughing. She stood up and looked into Ron's deep blue eyes.
"Yes, Ron. You can kiss me."
Ron beamed, unable to hold it in and reached forward, holding her hand in his. He caressed her hand with his fingertips and Hermione smiled through her tears. Ron took a small step towards her, and she followed his lead. He put his other hand on her waist and looked lovingly down into her brown eyes. She hesitantly let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing a tear to trickle down her cheek. Ron wiped it away and pulled her close with both arms around her waist. Slowly, Ron bent his neck down and closed his eyes. Hermione stood on tiptoe and pressed herself closer to him, pursing her lips.
Ron lost the space between them and pressed his lips down on hers sweetly. Hermione kissed him back, taking in every emotion flowing through her.
-----
"What's your favorite color?"
"Blue. What's your favorite kind of sandwich?"
"Hot ham and cheese. What's your least favorite sandwich?"
"Corned beef. What's your least favorite candy?"
"Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans. Yours?"
"I don't have one!"
-----
A/N: That last bit was an "epilogue" that's weeks or months, or maybe a year later. Please review and I hope you enjoyed my story! :D (Oh, and about Harry being gone all of the time, use your imagination. Maybe he's sick, or he's hanging out with Ginny or whoever you like him best with ;) )
That is all.