Author's Note: All right. This is my first Harry Potter Fanfiction, so be nice. It will have Harry/Ginny, as well as Ron/Hermione. I put it has Ron and Hermione because I think it has more of them, but It should have quiet a lot of both. So, here's the concept, 6th book/movie, Harry and Hermione are confiding in each other about the difficult things they are going through romantically. Ron overhears and misinterprets. Enjoy.
Title: Missing The Point
Chapter One: What They Said
Harry sat in his dorm room, thinking. The topic on his mind was the same topic that had been on his mind for months now; Ginny.
The most amazing, beautiful, gentle, perfect girl in the world. The one he fancied. He thought of her beautiful eyes, and the way they used to light up when he walked in the room. Missed your shot mate; she used to be crazy about you. He scolded himself. But Ginny had been different then. Or maybe she hadn't. Maybe he just hadn't seen what she was.
She was so strong. She had survived being possessed by Voldemort, the darkest wizard in wizarding history, when she was just ten. She had even fought back.
And she was powerful. She could throw a spell better than anyone her years. He had noticed how quick she had caught on when he was running the DA last year. She had been able to produce a powerful patronus before the rest of them, even Hermione, and he had been floored by how strong her reductor curse was. Even Professor Slughorn, who was normally only interested in students who were famous or who had famous relatives had seen Ginny's promise when he caught her casting her infamous bat-bogey hex on Zacharias Smith, and invited her to join his inner circle.
She was clever, like how she knew to test the door at Headquarters last year to see if Mrs. Weasley had cast an Imperturbable Charm on thedoor, and then was able to lie flawlessly about it to her mother. Ginny got good grades too, though she was shyer about it, and not one to brag. Harry liked that about her. Not that he held anything against his friend Hermione who could be something of a know-it-all, but there was something charming about a girl who was comfortable enough about her intelligence that she did not feel she needed to prove she was smart or show off to anybody. Still, Ginny's mum had raved about her report cards (often to get her slacker brothers Fred and George to shape up, before they left school) and Hermione had told Harry that despite her age, Ginny had gotten into a few advanced, older courses, and Hermione was impressed by how well Ginny was keeping up with the rest of the class.
And she could take care of herself, she had six older brothers, and she never let them walk all over her. She was witty with her remarks. She was funny, like how she came up with calling her brother's annoying fiancé Phlegm, because it sounded a little like her name, and because she was a bother and talked with a French accent.
She was talented too. Harry had seen her play the wizard sport Quidditch and she was a talented seeker, and a brilliant chaser. Harry loved Quidditch. He loved watching and playing. In fact, he was a seeker and zooming around on His Firebolt broomstick trying to catch the snitch, a fast whizzing, tiny gold ball that when caught ended, and often won the game, was his favorite things about being a wizard, and to see this amazing girl being not only competent, but better than most, was just enough to make his stomach jump ten times over.
And she was gorgeous, of course. Anyone could see that. Her boyfriend Dean, for example. Harry's stomach clenched. He tried not to think of Dean. He tried to just think on Ginny, her lovely pale skin, her beautiful eyes, her Weasley red hair. But that was another problem. Weasley red. Ginny was a Weasley. She was his best mate Ron Weasley's younger sister, and not too long ago, he had thought of her as just that, Ron's little sister. But something had changed recently in how he looked at her, and if Ron ever found out…
Harry was taken out of his thoughts by a knock on the door.
"Hold on a minute." Harry said, trying to steady his thoughts. What if that was Ron? He knew he could not read his mind or anything, but still, he always felt guilty when Ron caught him thinking about Ginny.
"Harry, it's me," a voice said. Definitely not Ron.
Harry got up to let her in, "Hey Hermione." He said with a weak smile. She returned with a weak one of her own. She looked as though she had been crying. Talking to Hermione had been rather awkward lately. In a way, they were in the same boat. Harry liked Ginny, but couldn't be with her because of Dean and Ron, and Hermione liked Ron, but couldn't be with him because Ron was with Lavender Brown. Harry was happy to help, or be a shoulder to lean on, but he did not want to take sides, seeing as Ron and Hermione were both his best friends, and had been for the past six years. Aside from that, he really was not very good at comforting and giving advice. He wanted to help, but he did not always know how. Hermione had always been the one to understand girls and romance and all that. Harry was utterly clueless. Still, they had slipped into something of a routine. Whenever harry saw Ginny snogging Dean, or Hermione saw Ron snogging Lavender, and they needed to talk, they would go find each other. It was nice having somebody to go to, somebody who didn't push you to open up, somebody who really got what you were going through because they were going through it too. In a way, Harry felt that in the past few months, he and Hermione had gotten closer than they had ever been.
"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."
"Not at all. I was just, you know, staring out the window, contemplating life, putting off homework."
Hermione nodded understandingly. They sat in silence for a moment, "I just hate him sometimes!" she finally said angrily.
"Ron?" Harry asked for confirmation, not that there was any real need. Really, who else would she be talking about?
"I come into the common room, and their snogging like their lips might fall off, which is bad enough, but then Lavender goes on about how brilliant his impression of me was earlier in class, and how she thinks he she's go into theatre, and of course, he's eating up the compliment, and then she asks him to do it again, and you know what he does?"
"The impression." Harry guessed.
Hermione looked at him, surprised. It was as though she had expected him to get the answer wrong, despite how obvious it was, given how put out she was about it, "Well, yes. That girl's just, just horrid. And he just goes along with whatever she says."
"Maybe he's afraid of upsetting her." Harry suggested, trying to calm her, "Or, you know, maybe he likes the attention."
"Maybe." Hermione said, thoughtfully, "still, if it were me, I can't imagine I would play along with anybody that much, not unless I was in love with them of course." Suddenly, Hermione's face sank, her anger disappeared, and she started crying. Harry walked over to her and let her cry into him.
After fifteen minutes or so, Hermione started to steady herself. Her breathing was heavy, but the tears had stopped flowing. Then, she started to hiccup, "I'm (hiccup) sorry Harry, (hiccup) I know you have a lot going on right now (hiccup) listening to me blubber (hiccup, hiccup) is probably the last thing you need."
He hugged her tighter, "Don't be silly. You're my best friend. There's nothing I'd rather be doing. Besides, I know you'd do the same for me."
"You were (hiccup) thinking about (hiccup) Ginny when I came in (hiccup) weren't you, Harry." Harry nodded. "Would you like to talk about it? (hiccup, hiccup)"
"What's to say?" harry said shrugging, "Nothing can ever happen. Ron would go mental."
"Far be it for me to defend him right now, (hiccup) but, he is your best mate. (hiccup) He might understand."
Harry shook his head, "How could I even, I mean, if I told him how I felt, he'd murder me."
"There's nothing wrong with caring for somebody Harry, believe me, I know."
"Well, I suppose we're both in this."
"Well, I can't tell Ron how I feel, obviously, but your situation with him is rather different, isn't it?"
"I suppose."
"Still, we do both feel this way, and it's killing us both, and neither of us can tell Ron, or tell anybody."
"I'm just glad we have each other. I don't know what I'd do without you Hermione."
"I know the feeling. Being able to talk to you this year, I've never had feelings like this before, I didn't know what to do with them, but you … you've been wonderful." Then she laughed, "I'm actually rather surprised, considering how you dealt with Cho. Who knew you'd actually know what to do in this kind of situation."
"Hey." Harry said, playfully pushing her. She laughed. They were quiet for a few moments "You're hiccups seem to have went away." He said.
She smiled. "Yes, I suppose they have."
Just then, Ron burst through the door, his fists clenched, his jaw set. Harry looked at him, confused. Hermione shot out of Harry's arms and towards the door, not even sparing Ron a backwards glance.
"You all right mate?" Harry asked. Ron ignored him, headed towards his bed, and buried himself under the covers.
That was odd, Harry thought, turning off the light and heading to bed.