Title: What about Ginny?
Prompt: But what about Ginny
Rating:PG-13
Characters: Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley. Hermione Granger. Various other OCs and minor characters. Harry's monster, Ron Weasley.
Words: 2519
Warnings: EWE, fluff, H/Hr (yes you read that right)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters. If only! Blame my bunnies, for not allowing me to choose a normal pairing.
Author's Note: A big giant thanks to iamshadow for the super speedy beta at 12:30 AM. All remaining errors are mine. I promise there is no Ron bashing.
When I told Ron she was like my sister, I really did mean it. I saw Hermione as completely off limits and taboo. She and Ron were made for each other and would get married and have bushy haired redheaded babies with formidable vocabularies of both appropriate and inappropriate words.
Except they didn't.
Sure, they got together after the war. However, after a few months of loud fights and even louder sex, (thank Merlin for charmed earplugs) they decided to be just friends. I have a feeling it was Hermione's idea, but they both seemed relieved. Other than a few awkward dinners right afterwards, they were closer than ever. Ron introduced Hermione to his friend Bram Calder, and although that only lasted a few weeks, it was Hermione who calmed Ginny down when Ron moved in with both the Patil twins.
It wasn't as if I looked up one day and decided to fall in love with her. It started slowly. Ginny would ask me to confirm that Hermione looked lovely, and I would mean it when I said yes. I started noticing that there was always one piece of hair that escaped no matter how tightly she pinned it, or the way that her robes brushed her curves.
The moment that everything changed was after a dinner party when Hermione had far too many glasses of elf-made wine. I had finished putting away the scrabble board (a sloshed Hermione could still wipe the floor with any of us), and sat down next to her on the sofa.
"Oh Haaary, you are the sweetest boy I have ever met," she slurred, slouching against me.
I murmured a noncommittal yet polite response.
"No. Really," she continued emphatically, "You never abandoned me, even when I broke up with your best mate."
"You are my best mate too, Hermione," I said in my most soothing voice.
"See? Sweetest boy ever." She hugged me. "I love you Harry."
"I love you too, Troll Bait." I was trying to keep the mood light; trying to keep from thinking about the way her hand was gently caressing my chest as if she were petting Crookshanks. I dared to hope that she would take offense and slump onto the other side of the couch.
"Hee. Troll Bait. You could call me T.B. Oh, wait. Then people would think I had Tuberculosis. Better stick with Hermione." She was still petting my chest.
I thanked all the gods that were listening and half the ones that weren't that I was wearing a robe over my ever more tight jeans as I stood up. "That's it. Spare bedroom for you. Up you go."
I tried to pull her to her feet but that made her stumble into me, giggling the whole time. I ended up carrying her after using a Featherlight charm. She was giggling in her sleep as I tucked her in, clothes and all. That portion of my brain I had always emphatically denied existed insisted that as a good friend I should put her in pyjamas. I refused to listen and contented myself with a kiss on her forehead and a murmured, "Goodnight, Troll Bait."
One ivery/i cold shower later, I lay down in my bed and tried to clear my head. What was going on? Why now? What was I going to do?
Ginny slipped into bed beside me. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts, I hadn't even heard her come in.
Oh Godric. What about Ginny? I had a gorgeous, sweet, talented, funny girl in bed beside me. She was, in fact, a girl I pined for most of sixth and all of seventh year (when I wasn't busy not dying), was way out of my league, and all I could do was lust after someone else, her best friend nonetheless.
o o o o o o o o o o
I got very little sleep that night, and left early the next morning so I wouldn't have to see Hermione or Ginny. I needed a plan. I couldn't avoid them forever. On my way back from the bakery, I came up with an idea. I thought it was brilliant.
I didn't deserve Ginny, so I would find someone who did. I even had the perfect way to do it.
"Morning, sweetheart!" I said, in a voice that was far too chipper for the day after a night of drinking.
Ginny swore and filled the kettle for tea. "There better be a chocolate croissant in there."
"Of course. Will Hermione be joining us?" I forced myself to sound vaguely curious.
"She disapparated about 5 minutes ago. I told her she could stay, or floo, but she wanted to brew some hangover potion and didn't trust her stomach to floo. I don't think I've ever seen her as drunk as she was last night."
I took an opening. "I think she felt a bit lonely last night. She was the only one to come alone." I took a breath. "I was thinking that maybe we could set her up with someone, you know, go on a double date?"
Ginny considered while sipping her tea. "You know, that really isn't a bad idea. Did you have someone in mind?"
"Not yet. I'm sure I'll think of someone though."
o o o o o o o o o o
The first dinner was an unmitigated disaster. I chose Ritchie Coote because I thought he and Ginny could bond about playing professional Quidditch. Instead, we ended up being asked to leave after they got into a shouting match about cobbing.
The second date wasn't much better, Ginny had asked Tony Goldstein, and he barely said a word the entire night. It turned out he was terrified of Ginny, and the only reason he had agreed to come was he was convinced she would put a Bat Bogey Hex on him if he didn't.
I had one more chance. It took everything I had to convince Hermione to go out one more time. I decided to go with the one person I was sure Ginny couldn't resist. I hadn't gone with him before because I was afraid that Hermione might go for him, but now I had nothing left to lose. It was time to call Oliver Wood.
o o o o o o o o o o
"I swear, Harry, he could give Lockhart lessons in being charming," Ginny sighed, as we got ready for bed.
She was right. It had been a lovely dinner, where Oliver had managed to converse on both the latest training techniques and on whether or not Shakespeare was a squib. Yet, he went home with chaste kisses on the cheek for both girls.
What had gone wrong?
"Goodnight, Love," Ginny said.
That was it. Ginny loved me. She hadn't been tempted by a smiling bloke with a sexy accent. She was faithful to me.
Damn it.
o o o o o o o o o o
Hermione wrote the next day to say that she had a lovely time, but she actually had a date with Percy next weekend. I had decided that since Ginny was silly enough to want me, I would try to be worthy. I made her breakfast. Did the laundry, licked chocolate sauce off her, sent her roses when she had an away game.
We watched Teddy together. She was amazing with him. I was finally getting the hang of holding him properly, but she was a natural. She would be a good mother to our children. After we had sent him back to Andi, I told her as much. I thought she would be flattered.
She was livid. "Is that all you think I'm good for?" She screamed. "Good for being barefoot and pregnant, giving up my career to raise your children."
"Of course not." I answered, confused. "I assumed that I would stay home with the children."
All of a sudden, Ginny's anger evaporated. She burst into tears and shut herself in our room. I was even more confused than ever.
o o o o o o o o o o
The next morning I woke up in the spare bedroom and Ginny was sitting in the desk chair staring out the window. I shuffled the blankets loudly and she turned.
"I'm sorry about last night, Harry." her eyes were red rimed and shadowed.
"No, I'm sorry, Gin. I shouldn't have upset you." I still didn't know exactly what I had done, but I was sure it was my fault.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed and caressed my face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I'm just tired of people expecting me to pop out babies because I'm Molly Weasley's daughter."
"I don't understand. You are so perfect with Teddy-"
Ginny cut me off. "I'm good with children because everyone assumes I'm good with children and dumps them in my lap. I 'm not sure I ever want any of my own. Even if you were to be one of those 'housebands' that are in those feminist magazines, I would still have to take a year off Quidditch if I got pregnant. A year in Quidditch means the difference between being a starter, and being a reserve. Two years? That's the difference between being a starter and being on a farm team."
I felt like that monster in my stomach was back. This time it felt like the monster swallowed my heart and replaced my intestines with lead.
"We probably should have talked about this before, but I guess I thought Teddy and all the Weasleys would be enough family, that maybe you didn't want to be a father. Do you think you would be willing to give up fatherhood for me?"
I swallowed. I owed this to her. "I can try," I said. I was a horrid boyfriend, but I could be a good husband. I looked into her eyes and saw them filling with tears.
"Oh, Harry, "she sighed, "Dear, sweet, stupid, noble Harry." Her voice was shaking slightly. "You really would have given up your biggest dream to stay with me."
"But Ginny…" I protested.
"Go," she said, her voice with a hint of anger. "Stop being such a fucking martyr, and leave while one of us has sense. I'll have all my things gone by the evening." She threw a handful of powder into the fireplace. "12 Grimmuald Place!" she said.
"But Ginny..." I said again.
"GO!" she yelled. And pushed me in.
o o o o o o o o o o
I stayed in Grimmuald Place that night, and the next. That empty house was easier to face than the one I knew shouldn't be. All my scheming hadn't managed to drive Ginny away. She was nearly perfect but she was gone because I couldn't accept one thing about her. The way to Hermione was one step closer, but I didn't deserve to take that step.
Ron found me at the end of the second day. I was sure he was going to kill me for hurting his baby sister.
Instead, he dragged me back to my place and drugged my firewhiskey, mumbling that Ginny and I were a pair of idiots.
o o o o o o o o o o
Hermione was there, screaming at Ron when I woke up a week later. I was fumbling for my charmed earplugs cursing because I remembered I got rid of them when I moved in with Ginny, which made me think of Ginny and what a horrid person I was.
Ron noticed that I was up. "See Hermione? He's fine."
"He. Is. Not. Fine!" She punctuated every word with a poke to Ron's ribs. "You could have killed him!"
I grabbed the glass of water by the bed before I felt like speaking. My mouth felt like I had eaten a bag of kitty litter. "But he didn't, and there seem to be no ill effects other than my mouth feels like the Sahara desert and I have to piss like you wouldn't believe."
Hermione looked scandalized. Ron laughed and helped me to the bathroom.
"Is this revenge for what I did to your sister?" I asked once I had showered and shaved.
"Sorry mate, I used too much asphodel and not enough catmint." Ron looked sheepish. "Besides, Ginny said she broke up with you, not the other way around."
"She may have broken up with me, but I was a horrid boyfriend."
"Oh for goodness sake! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Everything in the world is not your fault." Hermione was glaring at me doing her best McGonagall impression.
"That's easy for you to say. You don't know the whole story." I knew that they wouldn't speak to me if they found out the truth.
"I know that there is nothing you want more than to have a family. To be a parent the way that your parents intended to be. I know that Ginny thought that if she were going to have children at all, it would have been with you. Therefore, unless you feel like telling the rest of the story, the three of us are going to get you a new kettle. I am tired of heating water in a saucepan!"
o o o o o o o o o
Ron never seemed interested in knowing more, but I could see Hermione was just itching to find out. It was nice to spend time together just the three of us. When Ron was, there it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed that we were just three best friends. I knew it had to end. Ron went back to his place and Hermione went back to hers. I put in my notice at work, sold the flat, and bought a cottage outside Hogsmede. The flat just didn't feel right. Every piece of furniture, every picture frame contained too many memories.
I hadn't told anyone where the house was, but I hadn't hid my location either. Hermione was the first person to find me with a plant in her hands and a question in her eyes. I figured now I had an isolated cottage I could tell her the truth and become a hermit. I told her nearly the whole story, my scheme and how both she and Ginny deserved better. The only thing I omitted was anything to do with how my private bits reacted to her.
She didn't get angry when I finished. Instead, she decided to mock me. "That is the worst idea I think you have ever had. Worse than when you were convinced you were possessed by Voldemort. And a monster? Really?"
"That's all you have to say? I tell you all that and you care about my stomach monsters?" I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What would you like me to say, Harry? That you were such a horrid boyfriend that you deserve to be miserable for the rest of your life? You don't." Her tone was cold. "Why were you willing to spend the rest of your life your life with someone you weren't in love with?"
"I loved Ginny," I protested. "Still do. She is brilliant and pretty and way out of my league."
She gave me her McGonagall glare. I really shouldn't have found it attractive. There was something abut the flush in her cheeks and the glint in her eye. I didn't hear what she was saying. "Sorry, what was that?"
"I said, you may love Ginny, but you aren't in love with her. What is so scary about true happiness?"
"That it will go away. Sooner or later everyone leaves." I hadn't meant to respond, but once I said it, I knew it was true.
She looked at me. I could tell she wanted to be angry and I was wondering when she would. She grabbed me into a fierce hug and then held me at arms length. She looked in my eyes as if searching for something.
"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured, and pulled me into a kiss.