word count: 391
era: post-hogwarts, canon
collectibles: 7.2.7 knitting needles; 7.2.8 red yarn; 7.2.14 patchwork blanket
posted: October 15, 2016
Once I saw the prompts for this, I couldn't help but write about Ginny and Hermione learning how to knit. This drabble is for the Gigantic Harry Potter Collectibles Challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum here on FFN.
Ginny frowned at the work she'd managed so far, certain that she should have made much more progress than she actually did.
"Does this look right?" she asked nobody in particular. Fleur, looked up from her own work, made a characteristic unladylike noise that made Ginny roll her eyes, but did not answer. Hermione, sitting beside Ginny on the sofa, put her work aside to examine Ginny's.
"Well… it's better than whatever I have here," Hermione sighed, fingers tugging at stubborn threads. Ginny glanced down at the tangle of green and brown splayed across Hermione's lap and snorted in laughter.
"That's actually comforting," she grinned.
"I… think… you're doing it right," Hermione concluded with a nod. "You just don't have the same skill as your mother.
"No one has as much skill as my mother," Ginny agreed, picking up her knitting needles. "Not even Phlegm over there." She finished in a low whisper.
"Maybe if we'd started when we were younger?" Hermione mused as she began to detangle her yarn into something that resembled two separate piles instead of a twisted heap. Ginny traded her deep crimson yarn for a dark, golden color, still uncertain if her project was even close to pretending to be a blanket, but willing to keep working.
"Maybe," was Ginny's noncommittal answer. She hadn't been very interested in knitting or learning household chores when she was attending Hogwarts. Ginny wasn't very interested in knitting now, but being seven months pregnant and round as a hippogriff, no one was willing to let her do anything. Her options were a little limited. If we had a normal childhood, possibly."
"If we had a normal childhood, we wouldn't have become friends," Hermione pointed out.
"Good point,"
Silence reigned between the women for several long moments, the clicking sound of knitting needles and the crackling of the fire the only sounds. Ginny swore her first born better treasure the hell out of this blanket, the frustration she was going through to make it.
"Are you sure this is right?" Ginny asked once again. She and Hermione looked across the room. Watched the flawlessness with which Fleur worked, her needles clicking rhythmically as they weaved the pale, sparkling yarn she used.
"No," Hermione shook her head, almost in a panic. "No, we are definitely not doing this right."
"MUM! Help us!"