Hermione's eyes fell to the lopsided old clock above Ginny's bedroom window. It was past 3 o'clock in the morning – why was Ginny's bed empty?
Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled on her thick winter socks. She scrambled around in the dark for a few minutes until she found Ron's old Weasley jumper and pulled it over her head, wrapping it around herself as a cloud of her breath appeared in front of her face. As softly as she could, she padded down through the floors of the Burrow until she reached the kitchen. Ginny was sat cross-legged on an old sofa in the corner, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. She looked up as Hermione entered.
"Hey," she said softly. "What are you doing up?"
"I came to ask you the same thing." Hermione poured herself a cup of tea and sat next to Ginny. "What's wrong?"
Ginny sighed. She looked into her mug and watched as the tea swirled slowly around it. She was silent, occasionally opening her mouth, seeming to think better of it, and then closing it again. Hermione watched Ginny struggle. It was clear Ginny was trying to tell her something, and Hermione was unsure as how to proceed. Should she try and prompt Ginny, or should she stay quiet and wait for Ginny to open up? Just as she had made up her mind to say something, Ginny opened her own mouth.
"I'm gay."
There was a silence, and then –
"I know."
Ginny looked up, surprised. Hermione smiled.
"You know? What? How?"
Hermione tucked her feet underneath the blanket on the sofa and looked at Ginny.
"I just had an inkling." She said simply. "I didn't know, as such. I just came to the conclusion after some observation, I suppose."
Ginny shook her head.
"Nothing gets past you, does it?" She grinned shakily at Hermione, who gave a small shrug.
"How long have you known?" Hermione asked Ginny.
Ginny looked back into her mug of tea, contemplating her answer.
"I think part of me has always known," she said slowly. "I've known for definite for about two years or so."
Hermione put her hand gently on Ginny's arm.
"Ginny, why didn't you tell me?" She said softly. "Did you think I was going to care?"
Ginny's eyes glistened with tears. The truth was, she knew that Hermione wouldn't care. She hadn't told her because the problem had felt small, insignificant when compared with what Hermione had been through herself. Chasing Voldemort, living on the run, sending away her parents… The fact that Ginny liked women seemed to pale massively in comparison.
"I wanted to tell you," she told Hermione quietly. "It just never seemed like the right time to do it."
"In two years, you couldn't find the time?" Hermione raised her eyebrows disbelievingly, but there was a kindness behind the teasing look. She wrapped her hands around the mug she was holding.
"Ginny, you can always talk to me. Always, about anything. Regardless of what else is going on." She looked at Ginny with meaning as she said this last part.
Ginny smiled sadly in response and was about to reply when a noise came from just outside the room. The girls looked over to see Mrs. Weasley poking her head around the doorframe.
"I thought I could hear someone down here! What on Earth are you girls doing, it's almost 4 o'clock in the morning!" Mrs. Weasley bustled over to the sofa, taking the now empty mugs from Ginny and Hermione's hands and hurrying over to the sink. "Get to bed, go on, the both of you! Up drinking tea at this time."
Ginny and Hermione slouched out of the living room, Ginny rolling her eyes and muttering about being adults, and crept back up the stairs to Ginny's bedroom to get some sleep.