Disclaimer: Harry Potter or any of the characters here do not belong to me. I don't make any money off of them. That is all. Enjoy!
Mini-Disclaimer: The song "Tell Him" does not belong to me. I don't make any money off of them.
A/N: I got done with this part really really fast, so I decided to put it up. Thanks guys!
Tell Him
Footsteps approaching the painting from the outside of the Common room and the whisper of the password, "Grandeur," warned Hermione someone was approaching. Wiping away the two tears she had shed throughout this painful ordeal, she turned away from the window and back to the dusty gray words within her A Complete History Of Magic book, pretending to be focusing upon the dull, monotonous words that marched across the page.
Her act didn't fool the red-haired girl that didn't bounce into the room, as she usually did with her cheerful self, but rather slunk into the room, adopting Crabb's way of walking, her head down upon her chest, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She looked up when she heard Hermione slam the book close.
"Ginny," she started in a pitying tone. When she didn't turn to acknowledge her, but rather turned towards the girl's bunkroom, head held high as if she didn't need her, Hermione called her name out again.
"No," Ginny snapped suddenly, without facing her, "You can't start pitying me when you're still pitying yourself."
With a start, Hermione realized that her act was totally translucent.
"Yes, Mione, I can tell you're still grieving," Ginny said in her voice of clear bells ringing throughout the sudden room, 'And my advice--"
"Your advice?!" Hermione repeated through gritted teeth. "You're a year younger than me, Ginny! How could you know anything of these matters, you git?!"
"I know enough!" Ginny yelled back, "I know what love is, I know what it's like to look someone in the eyes and feel your stomach doing flips and turns! I know what it's like to always have your eyes drawn to him from across the room, I know what it's like to know his secrets, know his dreams."
A sharp intake of breath.
"And I know what it's like to know that he loves you, true, real love, but have him turn you away time after time..."
Hermione looked at her in astonishment. "I---what?"
Ginny laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "There's nothing worse than that," she continued in a mechanic voice, "So I think I would know."
Hermione gulped. "So...what's your advice?"
"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Ginny avoided the question.
"It's not Malfoy," she replied in a husky voice, "It's Draco. He hates his family name. He hates everything his family stands for. Wishes he wasn't part of it anymore."
Now it was Ginny's turn to look surprised. "He...told you that?"
"I bet he tells that to every single girlfriend of his."
"No. Otherwise Parvati would have spread it around the school."
"Oh, yes, I remember. Parvati was his girlfriend before me. Seems like he was getting used to the goody-goody type."
"That's not the truth," Ginny said in a savage tone of voice, "You know it isn't."
After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Hermione sighed, and then nodded her agreement. "Yes. It isn't."
Another silence filled the room.
And then Hermione withdrew a jagged breath of air. "I'm scared, Ginny. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, I used to like Harry, and I used to like your brother even more," there was a look of disgust on Ginny's face from this statement, "But this with Draco is so different. It wipes all the other feelings off the slate. I'm scared to show that if I actually care for him much more than I let on, that I'll scare him away."
"That's nonsense!" Ginny scoffed.
"No, it's not! Draco isn't a committed kind of man. He's flighty, mercurial. How do I know that the instant I admit my feelings, he'll run off, chasing after another Lavender, or Parvati...or Hermione?"
"Is that all that's worrying you?" Ginny threw back her red hair expertly.
"He'll think I'm a weak, dainty little thing if I even quiver while he talks," the whole aspect of the truth was really hitting her now, and her chest hitched up and down as she struggled to keep from crying large teardrops of remorse and pain.
In a red flurry, Ginny was at her side, comforting her, patting her back and promising her that everything would turn out all right. Her words of reassurance didn't help at all, and her mind turned to what could happen.
"What if there's another one? One that his mind instantly goes to at night? Maybe he's in love with someone else! Oh, God, I feel like a fool!" she shouted. "It all makes sense, Ginny. The last few weeks we were together, he was more secretive, more...shady. He must have, Ginny!" her voice died away as she pondered over her reasoning. "I don't know anymore. I've been standing at his side, with my heart outstretched in my hand...just waiting to see what he'll do with it."
"You just don't get it, do you?" Ginny said in an exasperated voice, "The only one he loves is you. Only you. You have to understand that you can't let this chance to love him go.
"What should I do?"
The question was sincere, full of the desire to know what would be right.
"Tell him. Tell him about everything, and anything. Tell him about your memories, tell him about his eyes...just don't let him leave you."
"If you say that the sun and moon rise in his eyes...and you reach out to him and whisper words you thought you'd never hear coming from your mouth...And you hold him close, you'll feel his heart beat accelerate. Love is something that you also give yourself. You have to admit you love him...you know?"
"Touch him, brush your hand longingly across his cheek, his hair...gently, tenderly, and he'll see the truth. What's meant to be is meant to be. Nothing can change that...nothing at all...time will tell."
Hermione stopped crying at the beauty of the words and the promise they concealed. "You're positive?" she whispered.
The question went unanswered as footfalls came towards the painting. Ginny dashed away from Hermione, up the stairs, as if she knew who was coming.
Mini-Disclaimer: The song "Tell Him" does not belong to me. I don't make any money off of them.
A/N: I got done with this part really really fast, so I decided to put it up. Thanks guys!
Tell Him
Footsteps approaching the painting from the outside of the Common room and the whisper of the password, "Grandeur," warned Hermione someone was approaching. Wiping away the two tears she had shed throughout this painful ordeal, she turned away from the window and back to the dusty gray words within her A Complete History Of Magic book, pretending to be focusing upon the dull, monotonous words that marched across the page.
Her act didn't fool the red-haired girl that didn't bounce into the room, as she usually did with her cheerful self, but rather slunk into the room, adopting Crabb's way of walking, her head down upon her chest, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She looked up when she heard Hermione slam the book close.
"Ginny," she started in a pitying tone. When she didn't turn to acknowledge her, but rather turned towards the girl's bunkroom, head held high as if she didn't need her, Hermione called her name out again.
"No," Ginny snapped suddenly, without facing her, "You can't start pitying me when you're still pitying yourself."
With a start, Hermione realized that her act was totally translucent.
"Yes, Mione, I can tell you're still grieving," Ginny said in her voice of clear bells ringing throughout the sudden room, 'And my advice--"
"Your advice?!" Hermione repeated through gritted teeth. "You're a year younger than me, Ginny! How could you know anything of these matters, you git?!"
"I know enough!" Ginny yelled back, "I know what love is, I know what it's like to look someone in the eyes and feel your stomach doing flips and turns! I know what it's like to always have your eyes drawn to him from across the room, I know what it's like to know his secrets, know his dreams."
A sharp intake of breath.
"And I know what it's like to know that he loves you, true, real love, but have him turn you away time after time..."
Hermione looked at her in astonishment. "I---what?"
Ginny laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "There's nothing worse than that," she continued in a mechanic voice, "So I think I would know."
Hermione gulped. "So...what's your advice?"
"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Ginny avoided the question.
"It's not Malfoy," she replied in a husky voice, "It's Draco. He hates his family name. He hates everything his family stands for. Wishes he wasn't part of it anymore."
Now it was Ginny's turn to look surprised. "He...told you that?"
"I bet he tells that to every single girlfriend of his."
"No. Otherwise Parvati would have spread it around the school."
"Oh, yes, I remember. Parvati was his girlfriend before me. Seems like he was getting used to the goody-goody type."
"That's not the truth," Ginny said in a savage tone of voice, "You know it isn't."
After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Hermione sighed, and then nodded her agreement. "Yes. It isn't."
Another silence filled the room.
And then Hermione withdrew a jagged breath of air. "I'm scared, Ginny. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, I used to like Harry, and I used to like your brother even more," there was a look of disgust on Ginny's face from this statement, "But this with Draco is so different. It wipes all the other feelings off the slate. I'm scared to show that if I actually care for him much more than I let on, that I'll scare him away."
"That's nonsense!" Ginny scoffed.
"No, it's not! Draco isn't a committed kind of man. He's flighty, mercurial. How do I know that the instant I admit my feelings, he'll run off, chasing after another Lavender, or Parvati...or Hermione?"
"Is that all that's worrying you?" Ginny threw back her red hair expertly.
"He'll think I'm a weak, dainty little thing if I even quiver while he talks," the whole aspect of the truth was really hitting her now, and her chest hitched up and down as she struggled to keep from crying large teardrops of remorse and pain.
In a red flurry, Ginny was at her side, comforting her, patting her back and promising her that everything would turn out all right. Her words of reassurance didn't help at all, and her mind turned to what could happen.
"What if there's another one? One that his mind instantly goes to at night? Maybe he's in love with someone else! Oh, God, I feel like a fool!" she shouted. "It all makes sense, Ginny. The last few weeks we were together, he was more secretive, more...shady. He must have, Ginny!" her voice died away as she pondered over her reasoning. "I don't know anymore. I've been standing at his side, with my heart outstretched in my hand...just waiting to see what he'll do with it."
"You just don't get it, do you?" Ginny said in an exasperated voice, "The only one he loves is you. Only you. You have to understand that you can't let this chance to love him go.
"What should I do?"
The question was sincere, full of the desire to know what would be right.
"Tell him. Tell him about everything, and anything. Tell him about your memories, tell him about his eyes...just don't let him leave you."
"If you say that the sun and moon rise in his eyes...and you reach out to him and whisper words you thought you'd never hear coming from your mouth...And you hold him close, you'll feel his heart beat accelerate. Love is something that you also give yourself. You have to admit you love him...you know?"
"Touch him, brush your hand longingly across his cheek, his hair...gently, tenderly, and he'll see the truth. What's meant to be is meant to be. Nothing can change that...nothing at all...time will tell."
Hermione stopped crying at the beauty of the words and the promise they concealed. "You're positive?" she whispered.
The question went unanswered as footfalls came towards the painting. Ginny dashed away from Hermione, up the stairs, as if she knew who was coming.
