She didn't know what was going on anymore.
Ginny sighed and ran her fingers through her tangled up, ginger hair. It was a mess as she hadn't the time to brush it properly during the last day. When she was not on lessons, she listened to the rumours that Hermione Granger defended the Slytherins, but wasn't able to save every one of them – and apparently she had been attacked by Bellatrix on school grounds... hah rumours! However, for that one, with Draco Malfoy being taken away by Ministry officials..., it proofed to be accurate. When the clock hit two, she was given to opportunity to encounter with him.
The aurors were barking at him, condescendingly sneering at his way as he was pulled forward on his knees to show it to the entire school, like a special but dangerous animal, being the latest hit of news.
A part of her was a slightly bit grateful for that – she'd not decided if she would forgive him for all he did during the war and the years before to her family, her friends, and especially to Harry Potter. There were people who cheered for the aurors, then, there were the ones who turned away as if not seeing the thing could keep their hands clean.
And she just shrugged and turned away, being indifferent, as if that would be of common occurrence; just because the blonde brat needed someone to make him mop up the floor. It was in time after all he'd done.
Or she thought so, until bumping in Hermione in one of the corridors, her hair uncontrollable, her eyes unfocused and she seemed frantic, flinching at everything. They talked, although Ginny was sure Hermione didn't even process her words, answering her back automatically and then going forward. Every of her second sentence was somehow related to Draco Malfoy and it made Ginny queasy at first, then think.
She suspected that something was up between the two. She just hoped it was nothing romantic – it would go against of the Law of the goddamned Universe if those two were to be romantically involved. They were different on so many ways, so edged and so... outside of each other's reach, always at each other's throat, always feared by others, but respected none the less (minus respective members of the other's house).
It just felt wrong.
Apparently, Neville'd thought the same thing. He told her the time, three days ago, when finding those two together in the abandoned bathroom, brewing something that was definitely not for potions lesson, even if they were in the N.E.W.T.S. class. He told her about Hermione's suspicious behaviour and then the worrying thing: she just lost consciousness, fell on the floor like a damn stick, flat on the stomach. Without any reasons. According to Neville, she was talking to him, trying to persuade him, and then the next moment, she was screaming like she was being skinned.
It scared him shitless – also would have her, too! –, and then Draco Malfoy simply just swaggered there and saved the day.
So, after listening to Hermione scream McGonagall's head for more than half an hour for her lack of activity over the aurors' appearance and her doing nothing, Ginny decided where he next journey would lead: Myrtle's bathroom.
She banged at the door, tried to perish Hermione's wards from the area, and after losing her patience, she ended up bombarda maximaing the wood, shrapnel as thick as her forearm flew all around as the castle bended to her will.
Ginny wasn't even concerned by the ghost screaming bloody murder at her entry, because when stepping inside the bathroom, she was awestruck: the place resembled anything but a bathroom.
Smoke as white and fluffy as clouds on the sky made it barely possible to see through, although the dull gleams of different cauldrons caught her eyes. Those lined up in the circular basins near the entry of the Chamber of Secrets, from where above, big, lanky plants' hang, fixed there by sticking charms. The mirrors showed everything back, creating a weird labyrinth; Ginny hardly knew anymore what was reflection or actual subject.
As she walked forward, she saw a sofa in the middle, three cushions over it – them, being the very same Gryffindor-red she had so well known. It was obviously from their common room, and the distinctive emerald green of the antique couch was a foreteller of its origin.
Those two sure had made a nice little hideout for their little projects!
So she ended up staying, driven by her pure curiousness. She conversed with the ghost idly – after Myrtle managed to calm down and dived back for a few hours to her favourite cubicle – and waited for Hermione. She'd come back there, Ginny knew her well-enough to know that she'd want to make all the proof untraceable and strengthen the wards, if for nothing more.
Then the minutes turned hours and the next she knew she was drowsing on the couch, bored out of her mind with counting the tiles on the floor and trying to indentify the potion they were brewing with the ingredients she recognised. There were too much of everything to just make one potion out of all.
And then, around four in the morning, Hermione dashed inside, not even noticing the door's absence. If possible she was in an even worse state that she had been when Ginny had last seen her, now with tears trailing down on her face, her cheeks reddened to the point that it could have competed with her hair and her positure so tense, she was sure every of her muscles were on the point of cramping, her breathing hitching and shaky like a month-eaten wooden ladder, unable to hold out.
If Hermione had noticed her, she ignored her on purpose, desperate to have her raging emotions out of her system. She was crying herself to relief with her back hunched and hugging herself, on the floor, sitting near the couch.
She looked pathetic.
Ginny gulped, now fully awake and asked with a small voice, "Are you okay?"
Her head snapped up, just now seeing her truly. Her lips trembled ridiculously, and then, the next Ginny knew that the infamous war heroine was taking her under her custody: holding her like a spidermonkey would its mom.
Awkwardly, and definitely not used to these kind of eruptions from the other girl, Ginny patted the top of her equally tangled hair, trying to sooth her, "Hermione, without telling me what's going on, I won't be able to help. What's with the nonsense of Bellatrix of all people," she immediately wished she hadn't said the wench name as the deputy Head Girl's sobs intensified at that very moment, "And Malfoy, the other Slytherins, and this place... this is just utter nonsense, Hermione! Please, just talk, what's—"
"He lied!" she gritted out suddenly, her hot tears making Ginny shiver after the direct contact with her skin. "He fucking withheld something that might be important! Draco knows more! And was not inclined to inform me, even though it could mean life or fucking death for me! He... he... Draco asked me if I chose to be enemies for my death or— or allies for our lives! And he betrayed me!"
In the end her voice rose about an octave higher than usually her normal, awkwardly shutting down at the end and even making herself wince at it. Yes, it was that shrilly.
Looking up with blotchy eyes, now somewhat relieved even by blurting out her problems, she caught Ginny's utterly confused expression, her mind probably shutting down the moment she called Malfoy at his given name.
She didn't even know when she started using it, herself. It was a sign of trust, Hermione knew that, but she didn't even know when he'd earned it! It was all so confusing and she was emotionally drained, and she felt dumb for even believing in his alliance. It was a mistake – she decided, even though this simple thought wound her more than the entire betrayal thing.
Ugh, this was just going to be even worse at this rate.
Ginny shake some sense in her head after a minute just filled with Hermione's pitiful sniffing, and then finally caught on, "Tell me everything, or I swear I will go and burn down their precious manor out of spite."
Hermione risked a weak grin at her, and then started explaining, from the moment they had first remet after the war – in the muggle tattoo salon. Even if it made her think about nothing but the feeling of disappointment, it caused a tiny bit of flutter in the pit of her stomach, and an itty-bitty wave of warmth spreading from her heart. She needed to realize, even if he was a perfect arsehole, his comments lacked maliciousness.
Maybe, it was because she had so many cracks she intended to cover with the tattoos, sew it back, but still, they let out her emotions and those ended up mixed in her body. And she ended up weeping in between Ginny's arms, repeating his reassuring, giving her the false safety she now came to cherish in his presence.
She was not sure of anything anymore, but that: she was a tiny bit broken, after all.
Life is shitty, I hate Maths, and I'm gonna be free of school by Thrusdays! Yay - also, the first two were the reasons of the lack of updates. Sorry.