Hermione reflects upon her relationships over the years, particularly one with our favorite bespectaled hero. When the line between best friend and something more becomes blurred, Hermione finds herself more than a little hurt and confused. Can Hermione keep his secrets and her sanity? HGHP, HPGW, HGVK
If looks could kill, Ginny Weasley would be one charred corpse right now.
Sure, she didn't technically do anything wrong. If anything, it was all my fault. Still, I cannot help but want to smack her every time she opens that vortex she calls a mouth.
Luckily, she can't see the looks she's receiving right now. Who am I kidding? It has nothing to do with luck. Harry can sense tension from a mile away. He's been blocking me from view for a good ten minutes already so that Ginny doesn't think I'm upset with her.
Harry knows that it's in his best interest that I don't get too upset with the youngest Weasley. Good for him. Protect your worthless investments.
I know, it's totally unfair for me to say that. Ginny is supposed to be my friend, and I should be happy for her. Harry and Ginny have been together for three years now. I was so happy for them in the beginning. I was with Victor, and Harry finally had someone to love. Life was good.
But we grew up. Victor and I split up about four years ago, and Harry was there to help me through it. In what seemed like no time at all, we were on the Horcrux hunt. Ron, Harry, and I were inseparable until Ron finally lost it. Then, it was just the two of us.
The night that Ron left, my first mistake was made.
After the stress from Ron leaving, neither of us wanted to be alone. We reasoned that we should bunk together. We ended up making love that night. It started with playful flirting. The occasional suggestive comment, or an "accidental" rub. It escalated to more than that, and due to inexperience on both our parts, it was over before we knew it.
After we regained our breath and basic intellectual reasoning, he turned to me and asked if I wanted this to be a one time thing, or if it should be the beginning to a relationship. I thought, for the sake of the task ahead of us, that we should stop it there.
That night meant more to me than any other event has. As time passed, I tried to convince myself that I made the right choice. That Harry and I were not meant to be. That place was reserved for Ginny, and that Victor would come back soon enough.
The search went on, and Ron came back eventually.
Ron never noticed the fleeting glances between Harry and myself. He too was too used to the fact of Harry being with Ginny that he'd probably mistake any affection between us as being strictly platonic. That suited me just fine. We pressed on and reached the final battle.
When Hagrid approached the castle with a lifeless Harry in his arms, I felt as it nothing mattered anymore. Voldemort could walk up to me and cast the Cruciatus and I would be none the wiser. This pain, I thought, that is the true way to break someone.
And then I saw it. Harry twitched.
At first I chalked it up to wishful thinking. Then I saw his chest rise and fall. Hope flooded my very soul. I knew we would be okay.
Two days later, Harry was back with Ginny.
I'm not going to lie and pretend as if it didn't hurt. It was a great amount of pain. But that was life and I'd have to deal with it.
Harry moved into the Burrow with Ginny shortly after. I would do my part, and keep my silence, if only to insure Harry's happiness. Harry was still the best friend I could ever ask for. He was my shoulder to cry on when I needed it and I was his. But I couldn't help to hate Ginny, if only for the fact that she had what I wanted so dearly, what I fucked up so foolishly. Granted, she had many other qualities I disliked. She always treated Harry like a possession. He was at her disposal day and night. She would blame him for just about anything that went wrong, even is it was obviously her fault. I would treat her as if she were my best friend, only to hide from her what I truly felt.
If she ever knew how deeply I love him, I would never see him again. She would make sure of that. And I can't say that I blame her.
That was when Victor wrote to me. He had been trying to write while I was away, but couldn't get through due to the wards on our campgrounds. We started dating again, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Victor was frustrated that he couldn't renew what connection we had and left me shortly after.
Was I upset? Yes. Did I know it would happen from the start? Yes.
Harry helped me though the second break up. He was always there for me. Eventually, all awkwardness we had faded away. We grew a stronger connection.
The joking turned into flirting, the flirting turned into suggestion. Suggestion turned into opportunity.
Ginny was out with Luna, which was not an uncommon occurrence. That left Harry and myself at the Burrow trying to find ways to keep ourselves entertained. The modified T.V. that Arthur insisted on getting only kept our attention for a short time. We padded up to the twin's old room, which was now Harry's and laid on the bed and talked. The more we talked, the more tension built up. We discussed that night in the woods, and how much better it could have been. We discussed all the things we wished we had done, all the things we would do if Ginny ever messed up.
This led to another, much graver mistake.
I tickled him. First his left side. Then he pushed my hand off of him. I tickled across his stomach, and he pushed my hand down. I brushed my hand against his package, and we froze.
Before this moment, it was common place for us to discuss the what ifs and maybes of situations like these. It wasn't until this moment went I felt all my resolve break.
The moment passed, and I went back to tickling his sides. Then his stomach. Then a bit lower. He pushed my hand farther down.
And it was then that I lost any loyalty I had left for Ginny.
I reached under his pant line and stroked him once. Twice. Three times. And he didn't stop me. So I looked at him, he looked at me. I asked if this was what he wanted. He said yes. So I continued. I told him that I wanted to go down on him.
I could see that he wanted it, but I needed to hear him say it. If this was going to happen, he would be fully aware of the choice he was making. He said it, and I proceeded.
When I came back up several minutes later, he was whispering about it being too late and I could tell he was upset. I sat with him for a while, and then apparated home.
We've seen each other since, with Ginny and without. When Ginny is around, I appear loyal to her. I flirt with her, and rarely with Harry. We still talk, and when Ginny is gone, we flirt and are ourselves. As far as I can tell, not much has changed.
As much as I know that I'm a bad person for saying it, my mistake was not going down on Harry that night. It was thinking for just one second that I would ever be important enough to Harry to make him choose me.
I will continue this game with Harry, at least for the time being. I delight in every touch, every word that we exchange in private, and the secrets that only we share. I love that he can tell me anything and not be afraid that I'm going to tell the world, or judge him for any wrong doing he has committed. I love that I can trust him in return.
I give myself no choice but to wait until a time when I can love him openly. Whenever that may be.
We are each other's secret keepers, and he is my lifeline.
I walk up to Ginny, and slide my arm around her shoulders, and muster the most official sounding voice I can,
"This mans not giving you any trouble now, is he? I could alert Minister Shakelbolt over there if you need any assistance."
Ginny smiles back at me, "That won't be needed, you can protect me."
"Until the very end, Gin," I reply, "Until the very end."
And so the game goes.