The Girl who Loved - Part I
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Warning: This is slash! You heard me.... S-L-A-S-H. There's nothing
here yet in the slightest, just a few romantic ponderings, I've posted
this small part in the hopes of getting some feedback in regards to style.
This is my first attempt at this type of story. The pairing is
Ginny/Hermione.
Updated Author's Note: I submitted this again because for whatever reason
all the HTML tags were showing up in this document. Sorry about that, hope
this is more readable for anyone who cares.
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Ginny's eyes followed Hermione from across the room, memorizing every
movement of her legs, every wiggle of her hips, even the careless
tosses of her curly hair- nothing escaped Ginny's watchful look. Ginny
knew Hermione so well now, after observing her for the past month, that
she could almost predict the elder girl's actions, perhaps even before
Hermione herself knew what she planned to do.
A touch of a hand upon her shoulder, light but sharp, stirred her from
her staring and she instinctively lowered her gaze from Hermione and
met the worried eyes of her brother. Ron stood before her, his expression
stony. Wordlessly he beckoned for her to follow him out of the common
room. Ginny set aside her book, A History of Hogwarts, and hopped out
of the red velvet chair to the ground. Her ill fitting black robes clung
too tightly to her form, and she stumbled slightly as she readjusted to
walking in her too small boots.
Ron led his sister into his dorm, which was empty, as most of the boys
of the house were at Quidditch Practice, either as participants or as
watchers. Sitting down on his bed, Ron watched his rather abashed sister.
Swallowing back a lump of nervousness that rose in her throat, Ginny asked hesitantly, "What is it, Ron?"
Ron sighed, running his hands through his mangled hair with agitation.
Deciding bluntness was best, he asked, "Is there some particular reason
you've been staring at Hermione recently?"
Ginny grimaced. Of course he noticed, she thought to herself irritably,
how could he not? She forced herself to reply flippantly, "I stare at
her no more than you do, dear brother."
Blushing, Ron muttered, "That's different. I'm... well, it's just
different. Look, is it... is it Harry?"
Harry. There was a time when the mere sound of that name would have
sent a tingle down Ginny's back. Now, it was meaningless to her. But
there was opportunity in her brother's question. Lowering her gaze,
Ginny mumbled, "It's just not fair. I just want to know why... why he
likes her." A part of that was true, at any rate. It wasn't fair.
Everyone in Gryffindor had someone, even her bumbling brother had
his Lavender now. But Ginny didn't. It was worse than the ones she
liked being taken... it was that they could never like her in the
first place.
As Ginny reflected, Ron composed an appropriate "Older Brother" speech
in his head. He almost wished Percy were around, the "Head Boy" was
certainly better suited to this role than Ron. "Look, Ginny..." He
began. "Harry isn't worth all this. He's just a boy like any other. I
know it's easy to be jealous of him, and of Hermione, everything seems
to come so easily to them."
Ginny stifled a laugh. She wasn't jealous of Hermione! Far from it,
to be truthful. But for Ron's sake, Ginny looked repentent, "I know,
it just seems sometimes that our lives would be so much easier if we
had their money and fame and... and everything!"
Money. Now that had always been a word Ron hated, and he winced to
hear his sister speak it now. "I'm sorry, Ginny," he whispered,
"Maybe someday we will. Try not to let it get to you." He hugged her
akwardly, and Ginny took the opportunity to make an exit. Ron remained
long after she had left, thoughts of galleons haunting his mind.
Ginny's thoughts, in contrast, were not nearly as simple.
Walking down the spiral staircase, Ginny almost collided with the
Boy who Lived himself. Harry was in a fury, his hands clenched at
his side, his eyes bright with either tears or sparks of lightening
ready to shoot out at any in his way- or perhaps both. He barely
glanced at Ginny as he roughly pushed her aside. Her heart in her
throat, Ginny ran down the stairs two at a time, hoping beyond
hope that Harry's appearance meant what she had only dreamed could
come to pass.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione watched from over the top of her arithmancy book as Harry
returned from Quidditch practice, smiling and exhultant over his
success on the field. He was as good on the field as he was fighting
evil dark lords singlehandedly, Hermione thought absently. A perfect
match for her, the top student, the studious teacher's pet. So why
couldn't he love him? Perhaps the problem was in his very nature...
were he a her, things might have been different.
Last summer, Hermione had attended a camp for young writers. There,
she had met Anna. It was only a summer fling, true, but why was it
that Hermione had enjoyed that summer fling more than her year long
romance with the Boy who Lived? There must be something wrong with
me, Hermione thought bitterly. Any girl in the school would love
to date Harry. So why am I so tempted to let them?
To be Continued...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warning: This is slash! You heard me.... S-L-A-S-H. There's nothing
here yet in the slightest, just a few romantic ponderings, I've posted
this small part in the hopes of getting some feedback in regards to style.
This is my first attempt at this type of story. The pairing is
Ginny/Hermione.
Updated Author's Note: I submitted this again because for whatever reason
all the HTML tags were showing up in this document. Sorry about that, hope
this is more readable for anyone who cares.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ginny's eyes followed Hermione from across the room, memorizing every
movement of her legs, every wiggle of her hips, even the careless
tosses of her curly hair- nothing escaped Ginny's watchful look. Ginny
knew Hermione so well now, after observing her for the past month, that
she could almost predict the elder girl's actions, perhaps even before
Hermione herself knew what she planned to do.
A touch of a hand upon her shoulder, light but sharp, stirred her from
her staring and she instinctively lowered her gaze from Hermione and
met the worried eyes of her brother. Ron stood before her, his expression
stony. Wordlessly he beckoned for her to follow him out of the common
room. Ginny set aside her book, A History of Hogwarts, and hopped out
of the red velvet chair to the ground. Her ill fitting black robes clung
too tightly to her form, and she stumbled slightly as she readjusted to
walking in her too small boots.
Ron led his sister into his dorm, which was empty, as most of the boys
of the house were at Quidditch Practice, either as participants or as
watchers. Sitting down on his bed, Ron watched his rather abashed sister.
Swallowing back a lump of nervousness that rose in her throat, Ginny asked hesitantly, "What is it, Ron?"
Ron sighed, running his hands through his mangled hair with agitation.
Deciding bluntness was best, he asked, "Is there some particular reason
you've been staring at Hermione recently?"
Ginny grimaced. Of course he noticed, she thought to herself irritably,
how could he not? She forced herself to reply flippantly, "I stare at
her no more than you do, dear brother."
Blushing, Ron muttered, "That's different. I'm... well, it's just
different. Look, is it... is it Harry?"
Harry. There was a time when the mere sound of that name would have
sent a tingle down Ginny's back. Now, it was meaningless to her. But
there was opportunity in her brother's question. Lowering her gaze,
Ginny mumbled, "It's just not fair. I just want to know why... why he
likes her." A part of that was true, at any rate. It wasn't fair.
Everyone in Gryffindor had someone, even her bumbling brother had
his Lavender now. But Ginny didn't. It was worse than the ones she
liked being taken... it was that they could never like her in the
first place.
As Ginny reflected, Ron composed an appropriate "Older Brother" speech
in his head. He almost wished Percy were around, the "Head Boy" was
certainly better suited to this role than Ron. "Look, Ginny..." He
began. "Harry isn't worth all this. He's just a boy like any other. I
know it's easy to be jealous of him, and of Hermione, everything seems
to come so easily to them."
Ginny stifled a laugh. She wasn't jealous of Hermione! Far from it,
to be truthful. But for Ron's sake, Ginny looked repentent, "I know,
it just seems sometimes that our lives would be so much easier if we
had their money and fame and... and everything!"
Money. Now that had always been a word Ron hated, and he winced to
hear his sister speak it now. "I'm sorry, Ginny," he whispered,
"Maybe someday we will. Try not to let it get to you." He hugged her
akwardly, and Ginny took the opportunity to make an exit. Ron remained
long after she had left, thoughts of galleons haunting his mind.
Ginny's thoughts, in contrast, were not nearly as simple.
Walking down the spiral staircase, Ginny almost collided with the
Boy who Lived himself. Harry was in a fury, his hands clenched at
his side, his eyes bright with either tears or sparks of lightening
ready to shoot out at any in his way- or perhaps both. He barely
glanced at Ginny as he roughly pushed her aside. Her heart in her
throat, Ginny ran down the stairs two at a time, hoping beyond
hope that Harry's appearance meant what she had only dreamed could
come to pass.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione watched from over the top of her arithmancy book as Harry
returned from Quidditch practice, smiling and exhultant over his
success on the field. He was as good on the field as he was fighting
evil dark lords singlehandedly, Hermione thought absently. A perfect
match for her, the top student, the studious teacher's pet. So why
couldn't he love him? Perhaps the problem was in his very nature...
were he a her, things might have been different.
Last summer, Hermione had attended a camp for young writers. There,
she had met Anna. It was only a summer fling, true, but why was it
that Hermione had enjoyed that summer fling more than her year long
romance with the Boy who Lived? There must be something wrong with
me, Hermione thought bitterly. Any girl in the school would love
to date Harry. So why am I so tempted to let them?
To be Continued...
