Consequences of the Truth

The time has come. I can't avoid it any longer. I must tell her the truth.

Though it has been over a year since Heather and I have met, the fact that I am a wizard is still unknown to her. I have kept the secret from her all this time for my own personal security. No one needs to tell me what her reaction would be if I told her. I know how Muggles are. My father used to tell me all about how most Muggles (Harry's aunt and uncle in particular) hate anything abnormal. I would say my status as a wizard would qualify as what they consider "freakish". So I have held my tongue when it comes to speaking of magic with her. If only Muggles weren't so oblivious, she would have figured it out for herself. Hell, now she has two cousins who are both wizards, not to mention the fact that she's dating one. But her naivety has consumed her. Therefore, I must take it upon myself to let her know the truth, once and for all, before she finds it out from someone else.

Why must I do this? Well, there is but one simple reason.

I am in love.

Love. That doesn't sound very much like Ron Weasley, does it? Of course I've always loved my family; I often sit and contemplate how fortunate I am to have such a loving and caring one. Also, I loved Harry and Hermione like they were my own flesh and blood. Never could I ask for better friends than the two of them, no matter what Draco Malfoy might say about it. But this love goes much deeper, deeper than loving your family, deeper than loving your friends. This love is the kind that gives you purpose and strength when the world has you down, the kind that only the most blessed of humankind can experience. Love such as this is something that does not come from admiration and affection with another person; it is something that merely happens spontaneously, when one least expects it. I am sorry to say it has happened to me.

If I knew what it was about that afternoon under the oak tree at Heather's house that made this sudden emotion of love overtake me, I wish I could go back and do it again. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever felt, being in love. When I am with Heather, I feel like I am on top of the world, and nothing can possibly go wrong. Now I understand how Harry and Hermione must have felt about each other in seventh year; if only I hadn't given them such a hard time. Until I loved, I never felt as though I had truly lived.

I say all these wonderful things about love, but it has also forced me to reach this difficult decision, the decision to let Heather know that I am a wizard. I only hope that she loves me the same way I love her, enough that she will not leave me when she finds out who I truly am. If she can overlook that abnormality, then I know we were truly meant to be.

I hear her car pulling up my driveway now. We have dinner plans for this evening, and seeing as I don't have a car, we must take hers. I regret that I live so far from her, but I cannot stand living in the city. For a simple Weasley such as myself, that is a lifestyle that I could not become accustomed to. My fingers reach inside my pocket and clutch the red velvet box that I have been keeping for some time now, ever since I had the realization of my true feelings. But it is not time, not just yet. There is something else that must be taken care of first.

The doorbell rings; she is here. Oh, how nervous I feel. No amount of Auror training could possibly have prepared me for what I am about to do. The anxiety I feel is absolutely overwhelming. Why is it that a man can face the wrath of a hundred Death Eaters and still stand his ground, and yet when faced by the woman he loves, he collapses? I feel that is one mystery that may never be solved.

With trembling hands I open the door to allow her entrance, and I feel the anguish building within me.

There she stands, as beautiful and elegant as ever, her blond hair falling down on her shoulders in a fashion that reminds me uncannily of her cousin and my best friend Hermione. Perhaps it runs in the family.

"Hello, Ron," she greets me happily and naturally. A year of dating has mostly broke us of our awkwardness, but with the prospect of what I must now do clouding my mind, I feel that awkwardness returning.

"Hi, Heather," I reply, calmly, with my goofy smile.

I kiss her on the cheek and take her hand, a traditional gesture on our dates.

"Had a good week?" I ask her, trying to defer the conversation in a safe direction until the opportune moment to tell her.

"Great," she says. "I'm really starting to bond with this new group of children. They are all such little sweethearts, even if they are a little rambunctious."

"I'm glad," I tell her, a hint of annoyance in my voice. I love Heather with all my heart, but she spends so much of her time working that I don't get to see her as often as I would like.

She seems to sense it and sighs.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she says. "I know your upset because we don't see each other very much. Believe me, I wish it wasn't like this. But I have a very demanding job, as you can imagine."

I manage to smile.

"It's okay, Heather. I understand."

She smiles with relief and hugs me tightly.

"Thank you, Ron."

I open the car door and let her in the passenger's side. It is only proper that I drive her to the restaurant, even if I couldn't pick her up.

The drive into the city is a quiet one. I cannot seem to find words; for once in my life, I am speechless. Heather appears to be thinking about something. I can always tell when she's thinking, because she gets this expression on her face that resembles wonder and curiosity. Too bad I am not as skilled at Legilimency as You-Know-Who had been, or else I might be able to read her mind and find out what she is thinking about. I am only half-mindedly driving the car; the rest of my thoughts dwell on her. Before I know it we have reached the restaurant, and I know I am that much closer to the peril ahead. For a moment I am rooted to the car seat, and can't seem to find the strength to move.

"Is something wrong?" Heather asks me.

"No," I reply firmly. "Just thinking."

In one swift motion I glide over and open her car door, take her hand, and kiss it. She blushes a deep crimson, and I can tell she is enjoying herself already. Hand in hand we walk into the eloquent restaurant, awaited by the sounds of 15^th century music playing throughout the room. It is a beautiful sight; this place was clearly built for romance. But I need not worry about that now. Something else troubles my mind more.

The waiter, a burly man with a gray moustache and no hair (he sort of reminds me of dad) guides us to our table. He offers us a toothy grin, and places menus on the table. I pull out Heather's chair for her to sit down, as is customary on a date.

"And what will the gentlemen and his lovely companion have to drink?" he asks.

"Red wine, please," I reply, knowing that is Heather's preference.

"Ah, very good," smiles the waiter, and he disappears.

Heather smiles her enchanting smile, and I cannot help but offer my own goofy smile to her in return.

"Have you heard about the festival they are having downtown this weekend?" she asks me. "I've been wanting to go. Should be loads of fun."

"Yeah," I reply. "I've been looking forward to it too. I can come by your apartment and pick you up Friday if you want to go."

I can always Apparate to her apartment.

"Great!" she says happily.

I keep up light conversation until the wine arrives. The waiter then takes our orders and disappears once more. Being the gentleman that I am, I have poured Heather's wine for her, and propose a toast to our happiness. She sips the wine and sighs.

I must tell her now. The longer I putt it off, the harder it becomes to do. If I don't tell her soon, I may never have the courage again.

"Heather, I have to tell you something."

"Yes, Ron?" she replies.

I can see the innocence, the caring in her eyes. I hope my revelation to her does not upset that.

"Listen to me for a moment," I say, taking her soft hand in mine. "You and I have been together for a long time, and I have loved every minute of it. You are the first woman who has ever meant this much to me."

She blushes deep crimson when I say this, which slightly boosts my confidence.

"I know that we have shared many things with each other," I continue. "Hell, I think you're the first person I ever told that whole camel story to."

She giggles slightly at the mention of my somewhat embarrassing tale. Then my face becomes grimmer, as I know what I am about to say.

"But there is something else that you must know about me. Something that I have kept secret all this time, and yet it is very important to us and our relationship."

She looks upon me with curiosity, and her hand trembles in mine.

"What is it, Ron?" she asks apprehensively.

I take a momentary pause of worry, before speaking those three fateful words.

"I'm a wizard."

It is then that I know that nothing will ever be the same. Once those words left my mouth, there was no going back. My future, my heart, my life, was now in the hands of my one true love.

She merely stares back at me with an unreadable expression. I can feel my throat growing tight and my heartbeat increases with suspense.

"What did you say?" she asks calmly.

"I am a wizard," I say again, rather reluctantly.

Her eyes are now full of angered confusement. My stomach is now churning uncomfortably; her eyes penetrate my body like a saber. Immediately, I know that I have upset her greatly.

"What do you take me for, Ronald Weasley?" she snaps. "What do you mean by telling me such a damned lie?"

"I'm not lying, Heather!" I cry slightly. "This is the truth! I am a wizard! That school I went to? It was called Hogwarts, and it was a wizarding school. That's where I learned everything I know about magic! I even have a wand and-"

"Stop it, Ron, just stop it!" she hisses at me. "We're in public! Why are you doing this? I thought this was supposed to be a special dinner between us! And you brought me here just to tell me lies? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm not lying, Heather! I swear!"

Several people sitting around us are now staring at our table. Heather jumps up from the table and grabs her coat, then storms off toward the exit.

"Heather, wait!" I call after her.

I throw money on the table and run after her. She is nearly to her car when I catch up with her.

"Heather, please, wait, you have to listen to me!" I beg.

She whirls around and glares at me. I can see the tears welling up in her eyes, and know that I have deeply hurt her.

"I'm not listening to anymore of you lies, Ronald Weasley!" she hollers at me. "I thought you cared for me? Was that all a bunch of lies too? If you didn't want to be with me all you had to do was say so!"

"But Heather, they're not lies!" I plead, praying that she will believe me.

She merely yells louder, her voice growing hoarse.

"Damn it, Ron, just shut up! I can't believe you would be this cruel to me!"

I try to grab her hand as she makes to open her car door, but she turns and slaps me hard across the face, a scar I know I will feel for sometime afterward.

"Don't you dare touch me! I never want to see your face again you stupid, lying jerk!"

I am momentarily stunned as she forces her way into her car and speeds off out of the parking lot. It isn't until her taillights disappear into the distance that realization dawns on me. Heather Granger, the one true love of my life and the girl I intended to marry, has left me. She has walked right out of my life; driven out, more to the point.

I am not sure how long I have stood here, still stunned by what has happened. A gentle nocturnal breeze caresses my face, and chills a single tear that has slid down my cheek. It is over. My relationship, my love, my life, it has all ended.

By some manner I got home that night, but I do not remember any of it. I might have taken the Underground, but it is all a blur now. Nothing fazes me any longer. Hell, Voldemort himself could show up and I wouldn't care.

Am I to live with this misery forever? I feel it must surely be so. Why did magic have to come between us? Why did wizardry have to destroy the great love that we shared? Why, why did that which I once considered a blessing become a curse? These are the questions I ask of myself, of the world, and of the greater being. Sometimes I wonder what controls the things that pass, the day-to-day wonders that make up our time and our lives. Why do they happen so? Why do they so often end in despair? I may never now, and if that be the will of God, then so be it. What will be will be, and it is not my place to question it. I only wish that blessings had been bestowed upon me on this day, and not misfortune.

But wait...

What is that I hear? A gentle knock upon my door?

For a brief, fleeting moment, my heart leaps, but then I come to my senses. It is probably just my boss. I haven't left my flat in over a week, and am as good as fired. With great reluctance I slump over to the door and twist the knob with a shaky hand, prepared for the worst.

The face that meets mine knocks the breath clean out of me.

It is She.

For a moment I am too stunned to speak. There she stands in her radiant beauty, the woman I thought I would never see again, and she is smiling. What trick are my eyes playing on me? Can this truly be happening? Is it possible that Heather Granger is standing on my doorstep? Words have momentarily failed me. She seems to sense it and takes it upon herself to break the silence.

"Hi, Ron," she says in her sweet, caring voice.

"H-Heather," I breathe. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I know," she said. "But that thought is gone."

She throws her arms around me and holds me tight. I can hear her sobbing, and I gently stroke her golden hair in an attempt to calm her.

"I'm s-so s-sorry, Ron," she cries. "You were telling the truth all along, and I didn't believe you. When I got home, Hermione called me. I told her everything you said, and that I thought you were just trying to get rid of me! Then she told me she was coming over, and she told me everything. You were telling the truth! I'm sorry, Ron, so very sorry..."

I can now feel a tear sliding down my own cheek.

Thank God for you, Hermione.

"Sshh, calm down Heather," I coax her. "It's all right. I'm not mad at you. I'm just so happy that you believe me now."

"I know," she says. "I should have had the common sense to know you would never lie to me Ron, it's just...well, I don't know how to say this Ron, but, I-I think I'm in love with you."

My heart leaps in my chest, and a warm feeling spreads throughout every inch of my body.

"You don't know how glad I am to hear that Heather," I whisper. "I love you, too."

She tilts her face up and stares her brilliant blue eyes into mine. At this time, an outsider would just see this moment as a quiet exchange of looks. But to Heather and I, it is so much more. It is the doubling of the bond between us, the mingling of our undying love for each other, and the moment we realize that we cannot live without one another.

"I have something for you," I whisper in her ear, and pull the small jewelry box from my pocket. Getting down on one knee I open the box and look straight into her eyes. Her tear-stained face lights up in shock and excitement, and her eyes begin to tear once again, not with sorrow, but with joy.

"Heather Marie Granger," I say confidently. "Will you marry me?"

She can barely contain herself any longer. With one gasp and her enchanting smile, she falls into my arms and cries with happiness.

"Of course, yes, Ron!" she exclaims. "I would love to marry you!"

I jump up and enclose her in my arms. Those few words have made me complete. I finally feel at peace again, something I have lacked since the day I realized I loved her. She said yes. She said yes.

And then our lips meet; I kiss her deeply, a kiss that is so tender and so meaningful that no other kiss that preceded it could possibly match. This kiss is filled and empowered by all the love that we share between us, and all the love that will guide us through the rest of our days.

At last we must part our mouths for air, but we continue to stare into each other's sparkling eyes, and there is no doubt in our minds that no matter what the obstacle, our love will always prevail.