disclaimer: I own none of this (excepting plot); J.K. Rowling does.
A/N: This fic contains sensitive subject matter. I do not wish to reveal exactly what, as I feel this will compromise the story itself. If you find that you are offended, DO NOT CONTINUE TO READ THIS. Again, please r/r. Flames based on the quality and style of my writing are welcome. Thank you for reading.
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Ginny lay on her bed in her bedroom in the Burrow. Being the youngest meant that she was assigned the smallest room. She didn't mind much. Sitting in this tiny room with its soft carpeting and worn pink comforter put her at ease. As much as she had enjoyed being away at school for the past four years, there was nothing like the familiarity of home. Since she had only spent the summers there since she was eleven years old, she hadn't changed much about the decor. A pile of stuffed animals sat on the dresser, and the faded lavender paint on the walls was beginning to peel. She sometimes felt as though she had outgrown the room, but could never bring herself to change anything. It represented a part of her youth that was so far behind her, she was afraid to get rid of anything lest she forget how it felt to be so young and innocent, so free of worries.
There was a knock on the door. Ginny covered her head with a pillow, not quite prepared to face reality.
"Ginny, it's me," Ron's voice called through the door, "Can I come in?"
Ginny considered for a moment. "'Kay." she said, her voice muffled. She heard the door open, then felt the bed sag at her feet as Ron sat down.
"They're going to be here soon. I thought you'd want to come down."
"I will," Ginny sighed, "eventually."
Ron put a hand on her ankle and shook it gently. "Gin, you're not over this, are you?"
Ginny lifted the pillow slightly off her face. "What do you think, Ron?" Ron shrugged, but Ginny saw the expression on his face and knew exactly what he thought. "I had plenty of time to deal with this all last year when they were dating. I'm going to be fine."
Ron looked at her sceptically. "Then why are you up here playing ostrich?"
"I'm trying to get some peace and quiet before we have two more people staying in this already overstuffed house. Really, Ron, I don't know why you're so worried about me."
"Last year you cried for a week when Harry asked Hermione out. I don't want you to set yourself up to be hurt again."
"I wasn't prepared, Ron. Hermione and I were good friends...are good friends. I thought she knew how I felt, I didn't think she'd say yes." Ginny let the pillow fall over her face again.
"You thought that she knew, but you didn't tell her. You didn't tell either of them that they hurt you. They both think that you're happy for them."
"I am happy," Ginny insisted, moving the pillow so that he could hear her, but still covering her eyes. "They're in love , and I'm not going to stand between them because of a silly crush. I'll be fine."
"Okay Gin, but if you need to talk..."
"I know Ron. I won't need to, but I know." Ginny would never admit it, but she appreciated that Ron had always been there for her.
Mrs. Weasley's voice magically interrupted them, "Ron, Ginny, they're here."
"Coming Mum." Ron replied, "Are you coming, Ginny?"
"In a minute."
Ron patted her leg reassuringly, then left. Ginny lay still for a moment. Her heart was racing, and she heard her pulse roaring in her ears. Why am I nervous, she thought, We're just friends, that's all. She felt thoroughly unconvinced. Damn it Ron, why do you always have to be right?
* * *
Ginny made it downstairs just before dinner. Mrs. Weasley shot her a concerned glance, as did Ron, but for a completely different reason.
"Ginny, dear, are you feeling all right? You look tired." Mrs. Weasley walked over to her daughter and started feeling her head and neck.
"Mum, I'm fine." Ginny wriggled away and walked over to Harry and Hermione, who were sitting together at the kitchen table. Hermione got up first to give her a hug.
"Gin, it's good to see you," Hermione said warmly, "Where've you been? We've been waiting for you."
"I was just...in the middle of something," Ginny replied, hugging Hermione back, but not lingering too long.
"Hi Ginny." Harry gave her a considerably more strained hug.
"Well, dinner's almost ready, so come have a seat." Mrs. Weasley waved her wand at a pot of bubbling liquid and it slowed to a simmer. "It's just the five of us tonight, so eat lots. The Ministry's being working poor Arthur like a dog lately, and I don't know what Fred and George are up to." Mrs. Weasley directed a ladle to pour out bowls of stew for everyone.
Ginny glanced across the table at Harry and Hermione. She was smiling widely at him. He kissed her on the cheek and Ginny drew in a sharp breath, quickly occupying herself with straightening her cutlery. Ron nudged her gently with his elbow. She shook her head at him. "Don't start," she hissed.
Dinner conversation was hardly lacking, despite Ginny's silence. Mrs. Weasley was asking Hermione about her summer, and Harry and Ron were deciding how they would spend the last three weeks of their vacation. Ginny felt she had very little to contribute, and her mind had begun to drift. She glanced surreptitiously at Harry and Hermione several times. She saw them holding hands under the table. They laughed with unnecessary enthusiasm at each other's comments. At one point Hermione caught Ginny's eye, and Ginny realised she had been staring. The look in Hermione's eyes was unreadable, but Ginny decided it was hovering somewhere between pity and possessiveness. Ginny avoided looking at anyone for the duration of the meal, staring instead at her lap. It wasn't until dessert that she heard her name mentioned, and she jumped with a start.
"S-sorry, what?" she sputtered, quite unsure who had spoken.
"I was just wondering what you've been up to this summer." Harry repeated.
"Work. Um, I have a lot of homework, and...I've been thinking a lot, about what I want to do after school. But that's it. Pretty dull." Ginny shifted nervously while she spoke. She was used to being shy around Harry, but she felt as if everyone at the table was staring at her, boring holes into her soul. She felt terribly vulnerable, naked even, as though her emotions were clear to the world. "Boy, I'm tired" she yawned exaggeratedly and pushed her chair away from the table. "If no one minds, I'm going to turn in early."
"I think I will to," Hermione agreed. "It's been a long day."
"Let us help with your bags," Ron said, lifting Hermione's trunk with his wand. Harry carried his own as they headed up the stairs to their bedrooms.
Hermione thanked Mrs Weasley and leaned over to hug her goodnight before heading upstairs herself.
Mrs. Weasley put out a hand to stop Ginny from following after Hermione. "Ginny, is something bothering you?"
"It's nothing Mum. Really, I'm just tired." Ginny lied.
"Is this about Harry? Because I think..."
"It's not Harry, Mum," Ginny interrupted, now genuinely tired, and not interested in discussing the matter with her mother, "I'm fine. Trust me, okay."
Mrs. Weasley nodded and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. "If you need to talk, honey, I'm here for you."
"Okay Mum, goodnight." Ginny headed up the stairs. Why does everyone think I need to talk? What's wrong with not talking?
When Ginny opened her bedroom door, Hermione was sitting on the cot that had been set up for her. She was surprised to see her, having momentarily forgotten that she had offered to share her room.
"Hi," she mumbled, and headed to the wardrobe to put on her bed clothes.
"Ginny, come here for a minute," Hermione patted the bed next to her. Ginny hesitated, eyeing Hermione suspiciously.
"If you're going to ask me what's wrong, you're wasting you're breath," Ginny snapped, "I-am-fine, okay?"
"You're lying. I have never seen anyone further from fine." Ginny shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but Hermione didn't buy it, "You can't even look at me, can you?"
Ginny had been avoiding Hermione's gaze. She lifted her head to stare into Hermione's eyes, and was shocked, but oddly touched, to find compassion there. She had been so angry, she hadn't considered that Hermione wasn't acting intentionally to hurt her. Ginny sat heavily on the bed, her legs no longer able to support her. Suddenly, she began to speak, feeling as though her heart had made a decision without consulting her brain.
"Hermione, can you be completely honest with me?" Ginny asked in barely a whisper.
Hermione nodded, "Of course, Gin. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Is he the one? "
Hermione suddenly averted Ginny's eyes. "Please, Gin. I can't..."
"You said you'd be honest. Do you love him? "
"Is this going to make it easier? If I say no, you'll just cling to the hope that you have a chance with him, right?"
"I need to know, Hermione."
Hermione shut her eyes and sighed deeply. She pressed her hands to the sides of her face, and Ginny saw that they were shaking. "Ginny, the truth is that I don't know. He might be the one, he might not. But I've never been in love before. How am I supposed to know if I am now?"
"If it were love," Ginny muttered, "you'd know."
"Well, I don't, okay? But my not knowing doesn't mean that he loves you, and it doesn't mean that you love him," Hermione stood over Ginny, adopting a patronising tone, "There is a long way between real love and this little crush, this infatuation you have with Harry."
"You don't understand" Ginny said desperately, standing so that they were nose to nose.
"What are you trying to say? Do you actually think that you're in love with Harry?"
"NO!" The windows of Ginny's bedroom rattled with the force of her cry, "No, Hermione! I don't think I'm in love with him. I never thought that I was in love with him!"
Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "What....then what...?"
"It was never him, Hermione, it was you! Oh God, it's always been you," Tears spilled down Ginny's cheeks, "I...I love you." Ginny's voice had fallen to a bare whisper. Her breath came in quick, ragged gasps, and she reached for support as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Hermione grabbed Ginny's arms and guided her to the floor. Ginny knelt, trying in vain to stop shaking. Hermione wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close, absently rocking back and forth as Ginny sobbed.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, "Shh, Gin, honey, I'm so sorry."
"It hurts Hermione. It hurts like I'm dying, and it's the most terrible and wonderful pain I've ever felt."
"I know it does, Ginny. I shouldn't have said what I did. Please, I never meant to hurt you." Hermione kissed Ginny gently on the cheek, "Honey, you should have told me."
"Why?" Ginny choked, "How would that have changed anything? What would you have done?"
Ginny felt a gentle pressure against her lips. She pulled away, but felt Hermione's hand on the back of her head urging her forward, her other hand lightly stroking her cheek. Ginny remained still, not wanting to risk waking herself, should this be a dream. Hermione's lips moved along Ginny's jaw-line, kissing away the salt-tears, her fingers raking through Ginny's hair. Ginny drew in a sharp breath, biting her lip. She felt hot breath against her neck, soft hands cupping her chin, the deep ache in her heart fading slightly, though still making it's presence known. Ginny stifled a sob. She laid her head on Hermione's shoulder, wrapped her arms around in a tight embrace and sighed shakily. They sat for a moment in nearly perfect silence, only their breaths making any sound.
"Are you okay?"
Ginny shrugged, "What are you thinking?"
Hermione paused, "I think I understand. It's starting to make sense now."
"And how does it feel?"
"It feels right. Nothing has ever felt this right before," Hermione pulled Ginny up and looked into her eyes, "You said that if it were, I'd know," She pressed her forehead against Ginny's, "Well, I know. I feel like it's the only thing I've ever known."
Ginny gave Hermione a chaste little kiss, her lips widening into a reluctant smile. Her heart ached less. She lay down and felt Hermione's arms curl around her and she took her hand. Her consciousness slowly faded, and she slept, Hermione's fingers entwined in her own.