A fanfic by HiSpAnIc PaNiC (aka HiPa)
Disclaimer: "What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"
"Good point," said HiPa. She turned her head and called across the world, "Oi! JK Rowling!"
JKR, who had been writing the 6th Harry Potter book, looked over at her.
"What?" she called back.
"Want to lend me your characters so I can put them in disturbing situations and not use them for any money-making or copyright infringement whatsoever?"
JKR gave HiPa an appraising sort of look.
"All right, then," she said…
"There you go," said HiPa to Harry and Ron, "piece of cake".
Goblet of Fire, Chapter 22
Alas, if it were only that easy…(sry, that amused me. Anywho, on with the storie!)
I hate my name.
I realized this as I stared at it, etched by my tidy hand across this summer's Transfiguration essay. Feeling rather foolish, I whispered evilly to it inside my head.
Stop mocking me!
It glittered up, just as innocently, from the parchment.
Ginny flicked the page of her magazine interestedly, and I turned to watch her. How she could just lay there—eating sweets and absorbing gossip, her legs bent at the knees and sticking up behind her like a pair of arrows, strands of vivid Weasley hair sticking out from the two buns perched atop her head—while I was being bombarded by a startling revelation.
"What, Hermione?" said Ginny thickly, her cheek bulging with Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. The blue of it seemed out of place compared to the dreariness of Grimmauld Place.
"Ginny, what's your full name?" I asked bluntly. She blinked back at me.
"Ginerva Molly Weasley," she replied curiously, popping a bubble. "Why?"
"Do you like it?" I continued.
Ginny sat up on the bed to see me better. "Hermione, what's this about?"
"I just realized I hate my name."
"What's wrong with your name?"
"It gets stuck in your throat."
"What?"
"Listen to it," I took a breath. "Hermione."
"Well, if you say it German-like, of course it sounds like you're about to hock a loogie."
"Ginny! I'm serious!"
"No, you're Hermione, and you're overreacting," smirked Ginny. "You've had that name for nearly sixteen years, and you just now discover you hate it?"
"Well, I've never looked at it properly before. Don't roll your eyes at me like that!"
Ginny popped another bubble and said clearly, "Her-my-oh-nee. Four syllables. Come to think of it, it sounds like a brand of mayonnaise—maybe you should go into the food business, Ron would like that…"
As she rambled on and went back to her magazine, I rummaged for a pair of scissors, a marker, and some note cards in my trunk. I printed my name in thick letters on a card and cut each one out. "Here, look," I called her down to the floor. She flopped down next to me with a sigh, glanced at my setup, and gave me a grin.
"Honestly, your name is perfect for you. Now, I know you don't care for Divination, but Luna said Trelawney once told them how the name given to you at birth predicts certain things about who you will become. Watch."
Ginny pulled the "m" out of my name, switched the "o" and "i" around, and beamed.
heroine. "No one who truly knows you can say you aren't a heroine. Look at all you've done," she added.
"Or—" she pulled the "o", "i", and "n" from the word and pushed the rest of the letters together, "—how 'bout this one?"
here. "You're always here for me, or any of your friends." She scrambled the letters into a pile, pulled out "n", "m", "r", "o", rearranged them, and continued. "You are the norm. Prefect, model student—people want to be like you more than you know."
Intrigued, I pulled out my own letters from the pile, Ginny chuckling at my facination.
hero. "I am the best friend of a hero. Harry has helped me hone my skills and spells through the DA. I wish I could do more for him."
Ginny reached out and followed my story, adding her own words. "You've always wanted to go to rome, one of your favorite authors is homer."
" 'Hire me', I will tell the Ministry. They will ask what I can do for them." I was getting the hang of this!
"And you will respond, 'I am one of the cleverest witches you will meet. My mind is a mine full of information and ideas that will revolutionize the wizarding world."
"The minister will look at you over the rim of his teacup—"
"—and ask if I have any major or minor glitches he should know about."
"Then you'll look him straight in the eye and say," Ginny continued, her hands flying across the floor, sweeping letters into place,
"'there's this guy—you've hired him too—that has no idea he's the one for me, and, coincidentally enough, you can't spell my name without his—"
She stopped in mid-sentence, her hands poised over letters, and stared at the door. I hadn't even heard the knock.
"Come in!"
Ron pushed his way into the room. "Hey, Gin, Mum wants you to go and help her with lunch."
"Okay," she replied, flipping some letters on their fronts so I couldn't see. "Be down in a bit."
"Oh, yeah, Hermione, Mum said to ask what you want on your sandwich."
"How about mayonnaise?" Ginny said slyly, putting ephasis on the last word. Ron looked nonplussed. "I thought Hermione hated mayonnaise."
"Ginny thinks my name sounds like a brand of mayonnaise." I said, making a face.
Ron scratched his head. "What do you do in here?"
"Help Hermione realize she doesn't really hate her name after all." Ginny leapt up from the floor and headed downstairs, leaving Ron to come sit next to me.
"Why would you hate your name?" he asked.
"It gets stuck in your throat."
"Hermione," he said slowly, listening to it. "Does not. Unless you're Bulgarian," he added wryly. "What's all this?"
"Oh! Ginny was telling me how your name holds certain characteristics about you. It's actually sort of accurate. Just now we were seeing what words we could make with the letters of my name," I continued, gesturing to the pieces of note card scattered across the floor. "But you came in before she could finish." Reaching out, I flipped over the letters Ginny had put face down.
A surge of…of something traveled through me.
I couldn't believe, that after almost six years, I had never seen this.
Three letters twinkled up at us. r-o-n.
Silently, Ron put the letters of my name in the correct order. "r", "o", and "n" seemed to stand out over the others.
"I can't believe I've never seen that before," said Ron, stunned.
"Me either. And it's my name!" Ron began laughing.
"Guess you'll always have a little Ron in you, eh?"
"Ron!" I said, swotting him with the pillow on my bed.
"Hey!" he cried, grasping for Ginny's pillow. "No fair! I'm without weapon!"
We had just gotten a good fight going when Ginny popped her head in the door.
"Lunch is ready…but maybe you aren't that hungry." Ron and I barely heard her. She tried again. "Oi, Ron! FOOD!"
He immediately abandonded his pillow and dashed past Ginny, who laughed and followed him. I tossed the pillows back on the bed and looked at my name, miraculously intact even after the fight. Smiling down at it, I whispered to it inside my head again:
I just may keep you.
A/n: MUAHAH! Support for R/Hrs everywhere! heRmiONe! (that can't just be a coincidence!) well, I thought this was a —REVIEW!—
(oh no, it's started. I sometimes get this thing where I randomly start —REVIEW!— typing in all —REVIEW!—caps like that. It seems to only be cured by—REVIEW!— yes, those)
cute fic, and came out better than I had —REVIEW!— planned. Please —REVIEW!— and if you're feeling peckish (whatever that means), check out my H/G fic:
Freaky Flying: Summer Nights.
It's actually quite —REVIEW!— good, I've been told. But give me your —REVIEW!—opinions.
—REVIEW!— (lol)
HiPa loves you!