Surprise! New two-shot. Currently in a creative block (I kinda blame Hamilton) so I decided to use my current addiction to maybe try and lure me out of my sorry state. Here's the result. The story of Helpless and Satisfied, warped to fit Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger. I hope y'all like it!
Helpless
Growing up as the only girl among seven children, I had to work extra hard to make sure my voice was heard. Contrary to popular belief, my being the only girl (and the youngest) didn't help much. Sure I got my way a couple of times, but soon enough, you learn. You start seeing the exhaustion in your mother's eyes, so you learn to take care of yourself instead of trying to hog the attention.
I have never had anyone look out for me the way Hermione always has. From the moment we reconnected after having survived unique Basilisk attacks, we've had an unbreakable connection. Cliché as it may sound, Hermione was the sister I never had. And she guided me through moments in my life that my mother couldn't, as she had only raised sons for most of her years.
There's no denying that I've loved Harry Potter the moment I laid my eyes on him. I was only ten. There's also no denying that the next few years following that, I basically threw myself at him. But after some very sound advice from Hermione, I decided it was about time I explored other options. I learned to keep my admiration for Harry under wraps for some years, until finally I realized I was ready to deal with it again.
It happened one year following the defeat of Lord Voldemort. A Victory Ball was held to celebrate this, plus the reconstruction of the Ministry and Hogwarts. Of course, everyone who survived the battle were treated as guests of honor. This included my family, my classmates, and of course, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I don't know what it was, but the moment Harry entered the hall, my chest swelled. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. I felt bad for Dean, who I had been dancing with at the time, because I knew it was obvious that my attention wasn't on him.
I wondered how, after all these years, Harry still managed to make me feel helpless.
Once the formalities were over, I took Hermione aside.
"Can I talk to you?" I asked, grasping her hands firmly. I dragged her away from the crowd. We looked for a secluded hall away from prying eyes.
"Is there a problem?" she asked worriedly.
"No, no," I reassure her. "I just feel—helpless. Hermione I can't wait any longer."
"What do you mean?"
"It's still Harry," I confessed. "It's always been Harry."
Hermione beamed at me. For some reason tears started to well up at the corners of her eyes, and for a while I was worried. But just before I managed to ask, she spoke.
"I just—," she started, engulfing me in a tight embrace. "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?"
"I'm just a little worried. Doesn't he still see me as Ron's little sister?"
She shook her head disapprovingly. "Ginny Weasley you are so much more than just Ronald Weasley's sister. I assure you he sees that."
We walk back to the Great Hall hand in hand and started looking for Harry. The people in the Hall had almost doubled in number since we left. We milled around, rubbing elbows, being introduced to people we didn't know.
Then there he was.
He was across the Hall with Ron, talking to some foreign dignitary. Our eyes locked for a split-second, but Hermione had already pulled me along. She probably spotted him as well.
"Hello, boys," Hermione greeted cheerfully.
"Ms. Granger, I presume?" the dignitary began. "And…?"
"Ms. Ginny Weasley," Harry answered, putting an arm around my waist. "She was one of the warriors in the final battle. Rallied her own small army of seventh-years and led most of the first-years to safety. Also one of the original members of Dumbledore's Army and the Hogwarts rebellion."
I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I smiled at the dignitary.
"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Weasley," he said. "Douglas Mercer."
"Pleasure is all mine," I replied politely.
"Well, it's been a swell conversation, but I must get going," Mercer said. He raised his glass and left the four of us.
"Ron, I'd love to dance," Hermione prompted. He grinned.
"Well then let's dance," he replied. He took Hermione's hand and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor.
Harry and I stared at the ground for a while, unsure of what to do next.
"Would you like to dance?" he finally asked.
"I'd love to."
We made our way to the dance floor just as the band started a lively waltz. He placed one arm around my waist and took my hand, guiding me as we glided across the floor.
"I didn't know I had my small army," I began, trying to break the ice. He laughed; a good sign. "I thought I'd be introduced as Ronald's little sister."
"Ginny," he said. "You're so much more than that. You're not helpless."
I allowed myself to be guided by him as the music continued to play in the background. We swayed together in each other's arms, eyes locked on one another.
"What do you say we find a place to talk?" He prompted once the music was over.
I beamed back at him. "I would love to."
Two weeks later I found myself in the unlikely position of waiting in the living room, accompanied by Hermione. Harry and I began our relationship the night of the ball, and now here he was asking my father (and my brothers) for my hand in marriage. I told him he didn't need to, that my parents would be happy regardless, but he insisted.
"Two weeks might be too soon," he said. "And with all that your family has done for me, I want to do right by them."
"What are you worried about, honestly?" Hermione asked, watching me pace listlessly around the living room.
"My father and brothers beating Harry up," I replied. It was an honest answer.
Five minutes later, the door opened and Harry entered, beaming at me.
"So, when do you want to get married?"
The planning took all of one month. We planned a ceremony similar to Bill and Fleur's in a tent on our backyard. Of course we had to take some measures to ensure that we would have the privacy we wanted for our ceremony. Mum planned the whole thing of course, from the invitations right down to the food. I had just one request, that she let me find my dress with Hermione. We went dress shopping in popular wizarding boutiques, until Hermione got fed up and took me shopping in London instead.
But in all honesty? Aesthetics didn't matter to me. And sure, I loved the dress I was wearing, and I was happy to see familiar faces in the crowd as I walked down the aisle. Ultimately, all that matters is what lies at the end of it. I was marrying Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the love of my life.
That was all I needed.
