Lavender and Parvati were chatting on the other end of the room, fixing their hair and finding their books before they went down to breakfast. She waited until the others had left, dawdling through getting dressed herself before she finally picked up her own books and went downstairs. It wasn't going to be a good day, she just knew it. It wasn't that exams were coming up, or that it was snowing too much for flight practice, resulting in much grumpiness among the other students, or the normal almost-time-for-holiday restlessness. No, that glimpse of unconscious grace, of soft curves outlined by clinging wool, and that wild fall of burnt-toffee hair was going to torment her all day. And it was no good, it was no use feeling that way. Of course, she thought sourly as she walked downstairs, crushes don't respond to intellect, and lust doesn't make sense. Damn it.
She knew there were...others...at Hogwarts. Professor Snape was equally sarcastic whether he caught two guys snogging or a guy and a girl. And, well, she'd done some reading, some exploring, while she sat in the library, pretending to study but actually just being, aware of Hermione's presence nearby like the warmth from a fire on her skin. She was, after all, sixteen, and had suffered through The Talk from her mother several years earlier. And from a rather embarassed Minerva McGonagall last year, complete with specifics and a booklet of charms that she had shoved down to the bottom of her desk drawer and ignored. She knew all about how her own anatomy worked, and in theory about how a guy's anatomy worked. She grinned to herself. Actually, considering that she'd grown up with brothers, she figured she knew more than the average sixteen year old virgin female about it.
The problem was, although she could recognize perfectly well what this confusion and heat in her face and stirrings in her gut meant...it wasn't happening around boys. She'd tried to see, letting Neville take her to the dance, kiss her... and nothing happened. It went as flat as one of his spells. But when Cho Chang had said hi to her when she was walking back to her dorm all flushed and sweaty from Quidditch practice, she'd gone red as her hair and found an urgent errand in the other direction until she had the blush under control. Ginny bit her lip. It was sometimes massively inconvenient to have the Weasley coloring. She was sitting in the library studying. It was normally pleasant... the smell of books, the soft rustle of people moving and pages turning, footsteps now and then as people entered and left. Open the book, study Charms, yes... But with Hermione's presence at the other corner of the table like a bonfire, she couldn't think straight. She'd read that page of her Charms notes three times without it registering. Damn.
Look without looking again. God, she's got long lashes. And she bites her lip when she's concentrating, catches it and lets it fall, licks her lips absently as she turns the page...The curve of her cheek is absolute perfection, the angle of her jaw temptingly delicious.... And the way the light falls on her face...it brings up this creamy glow in her skin, lights her caramel eyes with faint golden flickers... Her hair's fallen in her face again, and she raises one hand absently, pushes it back behind her ear, half caress as she brings her hand down ... Ginny bit her knuckle, and shoved her books into a pile, and left. She went back up to the dorm, thankfully deserted, threw herself on the bed, and closed her eyes, clenching her fists with frustration at it all. To move would be to say something irrevocable. And, to ask....She didn't even know how to ask, or what to say, or how to say it. And, God, one of her brother's two best friends. She had thought this out before. Better not to speak. Better to just be a friend. Better to hoard to herself the little glimpses of something lovely and lush and too beautiful to touch that were wrapped up in that gorgeous girl who had the bed next to her, and to wait, grimly, painfully, until this went away. She waited the entire year. It didn't go away. "Of course, I'll invite her too, she can stay with Ginny and we'll all do our shopping together! That's always so much fun, isn't it, and practically tradition now...."
Ginny paused on the stairs, out of sight but not out of hearing of the kitchen, listening to her mother talking to her brother Ron. She turned, and, with the skill of someone who'd learned not to be heard, slipped back up to her room, locking her door. She didn't want anyone to come in until she'd sorted out her head. Or, at least, sorted it out enough to go downstairs and look like nothing was wrong.
From what she'd heard, it was going to be the same again this year. Harry would visit, and Hermione, the last week before the start of term, and they'd all go shopping in Diagon Alley again for their school supplies. Which would have been fine with her...she liked Harry, her former fascination with Famous Person having settled down into a friendly regard for the boy her brother had practically adopted, and Hermione was....
Well, that was the trouble, wasn't it? Hermione. Ginny rolled over on her bed and sighed. She'd managed to avoid it so far this summer. It might, after all, fade with absence. Well, one could always hope....So she'd worked hard at being who she'd been last summer, teasing her brothers, getting teased in return, and not thinking about it. But now...well, now she was going to have to think about it. She wasn't going to be able to get away from it.
And she just hoped that when they conjured up an extra bed in here, they conjured up a little extra room to put it in, because somehow she didn't think she was going to be able to do casual girlyness very well, and bumping up against Hermione might be just a little... problematic. Problematic wouldn't even begin to capture the mess she'd be in if Hermione figured it out.
She heard her mum calling her to dinner, sighed again, and got off the bed. Time to start practicing. "Ginny!" Her mother's voice held her back when she would have left with the others. She turned to find her mother regarding her with that all-seeing gaze that had always made her want to hide. Oh, shit, she thought. For someone as busy as Molly Weasley was, it was sure impossible to slip much over on her. "Ginny, I want to know what's wrong with you. You've been just fine up to the point that Harry and Hermione got here, and then, quite frankly, you've not said two words to anyone! I thought Hermione was your friend, as well as your brother's, and you were openly rude to her today in Diagon Alley." "Nothing's wrong, Mum." "Virginia Weasley, you're about as good at lying as your father...not at all." Molly's brown eyes were snapping, and she had her hands on her hips. Normally this was where Ginny backed down. She wasn't in the mood to back down today.
"Okay, Mum, so there is something wrong. And it's my problem, and I don't want to talk about it." "When you make guests uncomfortable and bother the rest of us with it, it's not just your problem anymore! What- is- going- on?!" "Look, mum, I'll deal with it on my own, okay? I'm... I'm just tired from Flooing all over the bloody country today!" Ginny ran out of the kitchen, and dashed off up the stairs, red in the face, and not quite crying. "Well!" said Molly, to no one in particular, and Bill, who'd been home that week for a visit, laughed from the other side of the room where he was finishing the dinner dishes. "I would say my little sister's growing up," he said. "Yes, that was typical teenage behavior," said his mother, dismissively, "but there's still something going on with that girl, and I want to know what." Bill slipped his wand back into his belt, and walked over and hugged his mother, amused by the fact that he was a full head taller than her. "It's probably some silly teenage thing, you know. Hermione's here, maybe they'll talk and work it out." "Hmph. This didn't start until Hermione got here. And she was amazingly rude to her in Diagon Alley today, over nothing at all. It's three days before we put them on the train, and quite frankly, I want to solve this before she leaves." "Want me to talk to her, mom?" said Bill, with a quirky grin. "I always was her favorite brother, and if it's a guy problem, well, I know all about those." Molly looked at him with compassion. "Off again, hm?" "And not likely to be on again," he said firmly. "He's cute, he's funny, but I am tired of the games. If he doesn't want me, he can't have me." His mother sighed, and took his hand. "Good for you," she said. "I still mean what I said, I don't want to see you with anyone who isn't right for you. And it doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman." Bill squeezed her hand in return. "His parents disowned him when he told them he was gay, you know," he said, looking out the kitchen window. "It makes me grateful that you and dad are... you and dad." She smiled at him, then whirled as a clang and a crash came from the garage. "What ever he's into THIS time...." she muttered, and headed out the door. He could hear her voice. "Arthur Weasley, what have you been doing?!" Bill laughed. Some things never changed. He took one final glance out the window, where his father was being dressed down for messing with something else muggle, and climbed the stairs to his sister's tiny bedroom under one of the eaves.
The door hadn't been shut, and Bill had learned to walk quietly, despite his size. He thought about speaking at the top of the stairs, and decided against it. He leaned against the door frame, and looked at her. She was sitting on the bed, staring out the window at the back garden where Ron, Hermione, and Harry were messing about with some of Fred and George's newest ideas and laughing, with an odd look on her face. There was sadness there, and wanting, and embarassment, and a few other prickly complex emotions too. Bill inwardly sighed. Crush on Harry, I'll bet, and Hermione and Harry so close that Ginny thinks they're a couple. Ouch. Been there, done that. "Hey," he said, quietly. Ginny jumped, flushed, and dropped her head. "Hey," she finally said in return. "You okay?" "Yeah," she said, in anything but an okay tone. He suppressed a laugh. Ginny couldn't fake anything. Never had been able to. "Mind if I come in?" "Fine with me," she said, trying to be light and failing. She was staring out the window again. He sat down on the bed, and opened his arm, and in a moment she slid over into a hug, and clung for a moment as she had as a child. "If you want to talk, I'll listen," he said, softly. "Better than mom will." There was a shaky chuckle from somewhere around his chest, and she said, "Mom tends to fire first and ask questions later." "No kidding," he said, and let her take what comfort she could in his arms. "Bill?" she said, finally, "what's it like?" "What's what like, puff?" he said, using her old childhood nickname. "Being...being...gay." That wasn't what he'd expected. "What do you mean?" He couldn't see her face, and she was still leaning against him. "I mean... if you aren't, and you're a girl, you flirt with a guy, and he does those guy things and you know he likes you. But you look silly flirting with someone who isn't interested, so you figure it out before you start. But how do you know, if, you know..." she trailed off, and hid her face even more in his shirt. "If the guy I think is cute goes my way?" "Yeah." she said, very quietly into his chest. Bill sat there for a second. He wasn't stupid. And he was pretty good at putting clues together. "I take it you're not watching Harry out the window, huh?" he said, softly. He felt her shake her head, and then she burst into tears, mixed, finally, with words, "...and Mum's giving me grief because I'm being nasty but if I'm not I'll...I don't know, but it's awful, and she's sleeping right over there, and I keep having to see her, and...." "Oh, honey," he said, patting her back, and letting her cry, and remembering his own great uncertainties. Eventually the tears came to an end, and she sat up, vaguely apologizing. He handed her his handkerchief, and she blew her nose. "Don't apologize," he said. "What's a big brother for? Besides, it sounded like you've had that inside for a long, long time. Needed to get it out." She nodded. "Now, to answer your question, people look. Start watching people, straight too, watch how they follow people with their eyes, how their body language is when they're interested. It doesn't change. And eventually, you get to where you kind of just know, and can pick the ones like you out of the crowd with a glance and a smile. But right now...it's going to be hard for a while, puff, no doubt about it." "So...what do I do? I've waited a year, and it hasn't gone away," she asked, with a bleak look, hugging her arms to herself. "Wait. Watch. If something's going to happen, you'll find her reaching out to you, too. And....for what it's worth? You've got it easier." "Why?" she said, looking up at him, with the marks of tears still on her cheeks.
"Because girls generally respond to a pass with a kind smile and laugh, if they aren't interested. Guys, well... remember that broken nose I got in fifth year?" She nodded, and he went on. "I asked, and he punched me in the face." "That's not what you told mum." He said nothing. She looked at him, and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I wouldn't have told Mum either." And they sat there together in the dusk until noise from below heralded everyone coming inside for the night. "I'm going to Zonkos," said Ron, "you know, scout the competition and all that. Coming, Harry? Gin?" "Where's Hermione?" asked Harry. "Off with Finnegan probably trying to find somewhere to snog," said Ron with a snort. Ginny felt her heart twist painfully at that. "Wait and watch," her brother had said at the beginning of fall. Well, it was pretty clear. If she was dating Seamus, whose fondness for snogging was exceeded only by his good heart, any pass Ginny made would be laughed down. She knew that. Not as easy to just get over it, though, she thought miserably, letting her brother and their friend sweep her along in their wake. "Hey, guys, I'll wait for you out here," she said, at the door of the joke shop. She had no real desire to go in there at the moment, not being in the mood for jokes. Besides, it was a nice day, for late fall, warm enough to be out, but with an invigorating bite to the air. The trees were blazing with color, and the sky a lovely blue, and cloudless. And, in addition, she could people watch. The streets of Hogsmeade were filled with students, walking, laughing, talking. She let it all blend around her as she sat on the step and looked. A slightly stressed voice caught her ear. "No, not "later". We're going to settle this NOW, Hermione." She heard Hermione sigh, and looked across the street to where a large tree grew. Seamus had just dragged Hermione behind it for what scant privacy that offered. Ginny had slipped across the street in the next breath, pretending to be in contemplation of a storefront. After all, Hermione was her friend, and she should know, so as to be able to help her later...yes, that was right.... "Okay, all right. What's wrong?" "Don't ask me that, Hermione. We both know. This isn't working." "I...." She fell silent, and Seamus spoke again. "I'm not going to yell at you, Hermione," he said, in an amazingly kind voice. "But it's like dating...my best friend. There's no spark, and it's on your end, not mine, because you're a lovely girl who I'd be delighted to have pay attention to me any day. Let's be honest." "Honest." Hermione's comment was bitter. "All honesty ever gets me is losing friends." "Hey," said Seamus, and hugged her. "I don't want to stop being your friend. I just want
to stop the farce of us dating. You deserve better." She sighed. "I... yeah." His voice dropped another degree, and Ginny couldn't hear what he said. But it dissolved Hermione into tears, and that took some doing. He hugged her again. "I'll walk you back..." "N-No, no," she said, pulling herself under control. "I...think I'd like to be alone just now." And she set out back toward the road to the castle. The boys were coming out of Zonko's, and waved to her. "Hey! You know, old Zonko still doesn't have anything nearly as funny as what Fred and George came up with this year. They're gonna..." "Hey, guys, I'm gonna walk back up to the school, okay? I'm getting tired." "Not coming down with something, are ya?" asked Ron, looking at her with concern. "I don't know...but anyway, I've got some work to do, and if I am gonna be sick I'd rather have it done." "Okay, well, see you later, " her brother said, and he and Harry sauntered off down the street. Ginny started walking fast. She wanted to get back quickly...Hermione wasn't the type to cry at the drop of a hat. Hermione had gone in her room...she was a prefect this year, after all... and the door was rigidly and firmly shut. Ginny paused, and bit her lip. And then she knocked. There was a pause before Hermione opened the door, and although she didn't have tears on her cheeks, her eyes were red. "Hey, Ginny, you're back early too, something wrong?"
This is going to take some delicacy, Ginny thought. She'd been running over things in her head as she walked back up here, and she still wasn't any closer to knowing what had hurt Hermione this badly. "Yeah, kind of." "Come in and we'll talk about it," Hermione offered, automatically, shutting the door behind her and absently setting a silencing ward on it. Ginny perched on her desk chair, and Hermione took the bed. "So...what's going on?" Hermione asked, and Ginny could see her shoving the pain down and away, using this problem, someone else's problem, to distract her, shifting into Big Sister/Prefect mode. "My best friend is having problems," Ginny said, looking her in the eye, "and I don't want her to be alone." Hermione's face fell. "Ginny, I..." "I was looking in the window of the book store," Ginny said, and watched as Hermione flushed. "I heard what. I didn't hear why. But whatever the why is is big enough to make you cry, and you shouldn't have to cry alone." "I...." Hermione sighed. "Some things I'll have to work out on my own, before I can talk about them, " she said. "It's....personal." And suddenly Ginny realized. Her mind filled in the bit of the conversation she hadn't heard, and it clicked. Oh, did it click. Whoa. "I'm not going to yell at you, Hermione. But it's like dating...my best friend.
There's no spark, and it's on your end, not mine, because you're a lovely girl who I'd be delighted to have pay attention to me any day. Let's be honest." "Honest. All honesty ever gets me is losing friends." "I don't want to stop being your friend. I just want to stop the farce of us dating. You deserve better." "I... yeah." "You don't even like guys, do you? I could tell when you kissed me. No spark, no zip, no zing. Why are you even trying?" She knew. And she looked at the older girl, head bowed, tense and shaking, and in the silence Hermione raised her head and met her eyes, and in the silence between them something happened without words. But it made Ginny rise, and walk over to the bed, and sit down beside Hermione, and when they embraced it was as easy and natural as breathing. They drew back, and looked at each other, and Ginny suddenly understood what her brother had told her, for all the wild pain and longing she knew well was suddenly in Hermione's face, all the pain she herself had felt for months and months, and all she could do was say, "It's all right, I know, it's all right", and kiss her. And their kiss was soft, and compassionate, but it lit a fire in Hermione's eyes, and in Ginny's belly, and all she could think was No question. This is it, better than I thought... And the next kiss was less sweet, and more charged with desire, and Ginny moved her hand up to cradle Hermione's head, running her fingers through that soft hair as she'd wanted to do for so long, and felt the other girl shiver. Oh, yeah, this is it... good thing she locked the door.... and suddenly they were falling over on the bed, and pushing clothes aside, and gasping at the heat and the softness and the amazing feeling of another woman's hands on their skin. Neither one of them knew what they were doing, really. That didn't seem to matter. It worked out all right as they went along. "I guess he was right," Hermione said, meditatively. They were naked on her bed, Ginny in her arms, the echoes of pleasure running over their skin like a distant thunderstorm. "Right about what?" Ginny asked, and twisted so as to be able to see her face. "He said I didn't like guys." "So why were you trying?" She felt a sigh under her ear, and stroked one hand down Hermione's bare arm, for comfort. "My family isn't...they're very..." "They're not going to take it well, huh?" "No, probably not." They both sighed. "You know," said Ginny finally, "you don't have to solve that problem right now. And by my stomach, it's about dinner time and if we don't show someone will come looking for us...." Hermione snorted with laughter. "Yeah, I really don't want anyone walking in on this!"
She sat up with a sigh of regret, as did Ginny, and they began the problem of finding exactly where their clothes had gone. But, considering that both of them had a smile that wouldn't go away, Ginny wasn't worried at all. "Hey, Gin," her brother said around a mouthful of food. He swallowed and continued. "Are you feeling better now?" "Yes, I am," she said, reaching for a roll. "In fact, I haven't felt this good for a long time." Next to her, Hermione managed not to swallow the wrong way just in time, and Ginny grinned. This year was going to be better than the last, for sure.
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