-eight days before school starts-
"Of course, I'll invite her too, she can stay with Ginny and we'll all do our shopping together! That's always so much fun, isn't it, and practically tradition now...."
Ginny paused on the stairs, out of sight but not out of hearing of the kitchen, listening to her mother talking to her brother Ron. She turned, and, with the skill of someone who'd learned not to be heard, slipped back up to her room, locking her door. She didn't want anyone to come in until she'd sorted out her head. Or, at least, sorted it out enough to go downstairs and look like nothing was wrong.
From what she'd heard, it was going to be the same again this year. Harry would visit, and Hermione, the last week before the start of term, and they'd all go shopping in Diagon Alley again for their school supplies. Which would have been fine with her...she liked Harry, her former fascination with Famous Person having settled down into a friendly regard for the boy her brother had practically adopted, and Hermione was....
Well, that was the trouble, wasn't it? Hermione. Ginny rolled over on her bed and sighed. She'd managed to avoid it so far this summer. It might, after all, fade with absence. Well, one could always hope....So she'd worked hard at being who she'd been last summer, teasing her brothers, getting teased in return, and not thinking about it. But now...well, now she was going to have to think about it. She wasn't going to be able to get away from it.
And she just hoped that when they conjured up an extra bed in here, they conjured up a little extra room to put it in, because somehow she didn't think she was going to be able to do casual girlyness very well, and bumping up against Hermione might be just a little... problematic. Problematic wouldn't even begin to capture the mess she'd be in if Hermione figured it out.
She heard her mum calling her to dinner, sighed again, and got off the bed. Time to start practicing.
(Three days later)
"Ginny!" Her mother's voice held her back when she would have left with the others. She turned to find her mother regarding her with that all- seeing gaze that had always made her want to hide. Oh, shit, she thought.
For someone as busy as Molly Weasley was, it was sure impossible to slip much over on her.
"Ginny, I want to know what's wrong with you. You've been just fine up to the point that Harry and Hermione got here, and then, quite frankly, you've not said two words to anyone! I thought Hermione was your friend, as well as your brother's, and you were openly rude to her today in Diagon Alley."
"Nothing's wrong, Mum."
"Virginia Weasley, you're about as good at lying as your father...not at all." Molly's brown eyes were snapping, and she had her hands on her hips.
Normally this was where Ginny backed down. She wasn't in the mood to today. "Okay, Mum, so there is something wrong. And it's my problem, and I don't want to talk about it."
"When you make guests uncomfortable and bother the rest of us with it, it's not just your problem anymore! What- is- going- on?!"
"Look, mum, I'll deal with it on my own, okay? I'm... I'm just tired from Flooing all over the bloody country today!" Ginny ran out of the kitchen, and dashed off up the stairs, red in the face, and not quite crying.
"Well!" said Molly, to no one in particular, and Bill, who'd been home that week for a visit, laughed from the other side of the room where he was finishing the dinner dishes.
"I would say my little sister's growing up," he said.
"Yes, that was typical teenage behavior," said his mother, dismissively, "but there's still something going on with that girl, and I want to know what."
Bill slipped his wand back into his belt, and walked over and hugged his mother, amused by the fact that he was a full head taller than her. "It's probably some silly teenage thing, you know. Hermione's here, maybe they'll talk and work it out."
"Hmph. This didn't start until Hermione got here. And she was amazingly rude to her in Diagon Alley today, over nothing at all. It's three days before we put them on the train, and quite frankly, I want to solve this before she leaves."
"Want me to talk to her, mom?" said Bill, with a quirky grin. "I always was her favorite brother, and if it's a guy problem, well, I know all about those."
Molly looked at him with compassion. "Off again, hm?"
"And not likely to be on again," he said firmly. "He's cute, he's funny, but I am tired of the games. If he doesn't want me, he can't have me."
His mother sighed, and took his hand. "Good for you," she said. "I still mean what I said, I don't want to see you with anyone who isn't right for you. And it doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman."
Bill squeezed her hand in return. "His parents disowned him when he told them he was gay, you know," he said, looking out the kitchen window. "It makes me grateful that you and dad are... you and dad."
She smiled at him, then whirled as a clang and a crash came from the garage. "What ever he's into THIS time...." she muttered, and headed out the door. He could hear her voice. "Arthur Weasley, what have you been doing?!"
Bill laughed. Some things never changed. He took one final glance out the window, where his father was being dressed down for messing with something else muggle, and climbed the stairs to his sister's tiny bedroom under one of the eaves.
The door hadn't been shut, and Bill had learned to walk quietly, despite his size. He thought about speaking at the top of the stairs, and decided against it. He leaned against the door frame, and looked at her. She was sitting on the bed, staring out the window at the back garden where Ron, Hermione, and Harry were messing about with some of Fred and George's newest ideas and laughing, with an odd look on her face. There was sadness there, and wanting, and embarassment, and a few other prickly complex emotions too. Bill inwardly sighed. Crush on Harry, I'll bet, and Hermione and Harry so close that Ginny thinks they're a couple. Ouch. Been there, done that. "Hey," he said, quietly.
Ginny jumped, flushed, and dropped her head. "Hey," she finally said in return.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, in anything but an okay tone. He suppressed a laugh. Ginny couldn't fake anything. Never had been able to.
"Mind if I come in?"
"Fine with me," she said, trying to be light and failing. She was staring out the window again.
He sat down on the bed, and opened his arm, and in a moment she slid over into a hug, and clung for a moment as she had as a child.
"If you want to talk, I'll listen," he said, softly. "Better than mom will."
There was a shaky chuckle from somewhere around his chest, and she said, "Mom tends to fire first and ask questions later."
"No kidding," he said, and let her take what comfort she could in his arms.
"Bill?" she said, finally, "what's it like?"
"What's what like, puff?" he said, using her old childhood nickname.
"Being...being...gay."
That wasn't what he'd expected. "What do you mean?" He couldn't see her face, and she was still leaning against him.
"I mean... if you aren't, and you're a girl, you flirt with a guy, and he does those guy things and you know he likes you. But you look silly flirting with someone who isn't interested, so you figure it out before you start. But how do you know, if, you know..." she trailed off, and hid her face even more in his shirt.
"If the guy I think is cute goes my way?"
"Yeah." she said, very quietly into his chest.
Bill sat there for a second. He wasn't stupid. And he was pretty good at putting clues together.
"I take it you're not watching -Harry- out the window, huh?" he said, softly. He felt her shake her head, and then she burst into tears, mixed, finally, with words,
"...and Mum's giving me grief because I'm being nasty but if I'm not I'll...I don't know, but it's awful, and she's sleeping right over there, and I keep having to -see- her, and...."
"Oh, honey," he said, patting her back, and letting her cry, and remembering his own great uncertainties.
Eventually the tears came to an end, and she sat up, vaguely apologizing. He handed her his handkerchief, and she blew her nose.
"Don't apologize," he said. "What's a big brother for? Besides, it sounded like you've had that inside for a long, long time. Needed to get it out."
She nodded.
"Now, to answer your question, people look. Start watching people, straight too, watch how they follow people with their eyes, how their body language is when they're interested. It doesn't change. And eventually, you get to where you kind of just know, and can pick the ones like you out of the crowd with a glance and a smile. But right now...it's going to be hard for a while, puff, no doubt about it."
"So...what do I do? I've waited a year, and it hasn't gone away," she asked, with a bleak look, hugging her arms to herself.
"Wait. Watch. If something's going to happen, you'll find her reaching out to you, too. And....for what it's worth? You've got it easier."
"Why?" she said, looking up at him, with the marks of tears still on her cheeks.
"Because girls generally respond to a pass with a kind smile and laugh, if they aren't interested. Guys, well... remember that broken nose I got in fifth year?" She nodded, and he went on. "I asked, and he punched me in the face."
"That's not what you told mum." He said nothing. She looked at him, and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I wouldn't have told Mum either."
And they sat there together in the dusk until noise from below heralded everyone coming inside for the night.
"Of course, I'll invite her too, she can stay with Ginny and we'll all do our shopping together! That's always so much fun, isn't it, and practically tradition now...."
Ginny paused on the stairs, out of sight but not out of hearing of the kitchen, listening to her mother talking to her brother Ron. She turned, and, with the skill of someone who'd learned not to be heard, slipped back up to her room, locking her door. She didn't want anyone to come in until she'd sorted out her head. Or, at least, sorted it out enough to go downstairs and look like nothing was wrong.
From what she'd heard, it was going to be the same again this year. Harry would visit, and Hermione, the last week before the start of term, and they'd all go shopping in Diagon Alley again for their school supplies. Which would have been fine with her...she liked Harry, her former fascination with Famous Person having settled down into a friendly regard for the boy her brother had practically adopted, and Hermione was....
Well, that was the trouble, wasn't it? Hermione. Ginny rolled over on her bed and sighed. She'd managed to avoid it so far this summer. It might, after all, fade with absence. Well, one could always hope....So she'd worked hard at being who she'd been last summer, teasing her brothers, getting teased in return, and not thinking about it. But now...well, now she was going to have to think about it. She wasn't going to be able to get away from it.
And she just hoped that when they conjured up an extra bed in here, they conjured up a little extra room to put it in, because somehow she didn't think she was going to be able to do casual girlyness very well, and bumping up against Hermione might be just a little... problematic. Problematic wouldn't even begin to capture the mess she'd be in if Hermione figured it out.
She heard her mum calling her to dinner, sighed again, and got off the bed. Time to start practicing.
(Three days later)
"Ginny!" Her mother's voice held her back when she would have left with the others. She turned to find her mother regarding her with that all- seeing gaze that had always made her want to hide. Oh, shit, she thought.
For someone as busy as Molly Weasley was, it was sure impossible to slip much over on her.
"Ginny, I want to know what's wrong with you. You've been just fine up to the point that Harry and Hermione got here, and then, quite frankly, you've not said two words to anyone! I thought Hermione was your friend, as well as your brother's, and you were openly rude to her today in Diagon Alley."
"Nothing's wrong, Mum."
"Virginia Weasley, you're about as good at lying as your father...not at all." Molly's brown eyes were snapping, and she had her hands on her hips.
Normally this was where Ginny backed down. She wasn't in the mood to today. "Okay, Mum, so there is something wrong. And it's my problem, and I don't want to talk about it."
"When you make guests uncomfortable and bother the rest of us with it, it's not just your problem anymore! What- is- going- on?!"
"Look, mum, I'll deal with it on my own, okay? I'm... I'm just tired from Flooing all over the bloody country today!" Ginny ran out of the kitchen, and dashed off up the stairs, red in the face, and not quite crying.
"Well!" said Molly, to no one in particular, and Bill, who'd been home that week for a visit, laughed from the other side of the room where he was finishing the dinner dishes.
"I would say my little sister's growing up," he said.
"Yes, that was typical teenage behavior," said his mother, dismissively, "but there's still something going on with that girl, and I want to know what."
Bill slipped his wand back into his belt, and walked over and hugged his mother, amused by the fact that he was a full head taller than her. "It's probably some silly teenage thing, you know. Hermione's here, maybe they'll talk and work it out."
"Hmph. This didn't start until Hermione got here. And she was amazingly rude to her in Diagon Alley today, over nothing at all. It's three days before we put them on the train, and quite frankly, I want to solve this before she leaves."
"Want me to talk to her, mom?" said Bill, with a quirky grin. "I always was her favorite brother, and if it's a guy problem, well, I know all about those."
Molly looked at him with compassion. "Off again, hm?"
"And not likely to be on again," he said firmly. "He's cute, he's funny, but I am tired of the games. If he doesn't want me, he can't have me."
His mother sighed, and took his hand. "Good for you," she said. "I still mean what I said, I don't want to see you with anyone who isn't right for you. And it doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman."
Bill squeezed her hand in return. "His parents disowned him when he told them he was gay, you know," he said, looking out the kitchen window. "It makes me grateful that you and dad are... you and dad."
She smiled at him, then whirled as a clang and a crash came from the garage. "What ever he's into THIS time...." she muttered, and headed out the door. He could hear her voice. "Arthur Weasley, what have you been doing?!"
Bill laughed. Some things never changed. He took one final glance out the window, where his father was being dressed down for messing with something else muggle, and climbed the stairs to his sister's tiny bedroom under one of the eaves.
The door hadn't been shut, and Bill had learned to walk quietly, despite his size. He thought about speaking at the top of the stairs, and decided against it. He leaned against the door frame, and looked at her. She was sitting on the bed, staring out the window at the back garden where Ron, Hermione, and Harry were messing about with some of Fred and George's newest ideas and laughing, with an odd look on her face. There was sadness there, and wanting, and embarassment, and a few other prickly complex emotions too. Bill inwardly sighed. Crush on Harry, I'll bet, and Hermione and Harry so close that Ginny thinks they're a couple. Ouch. Been there, done that. "Hey," he said, quietly.
Ginny jumped, flushed, and dropped her head. "Hey," she finally said in return.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, in anything but an okay tone. He suppressed a laugh. Ginny couldn't fake anything. Never had been able to.
"Mind if I come in?"
"Fine with me," she said, trying to be light and failing. She was staring out the window again.
He sat down on the bed, and opened his arm, and in a moment she slid over into a hug, and clung for a moment as she had as a child.
"If you want to talk, I'll listen," he said, softly. "Better than mom will."
There was a shaky chuckle from somewhere around his chest, and she said, "Mom tends to fire first and ask questions later."
"No kidding," he said, and let her take what comfort she could in his arms.
"Bill?" she said, finally, "what's it like?"
"What's what like, puff?" he said, using her old childhood nickname.
"Being...being...gay."
That wasn't what he'd expected. "What do you mean?" He couldn't see her face, and she was still leaning against him.
"I mean... if you aren't, and you're a girl, you flirt with a guy, and he does those guy things and you know he likes you. But you look silly flirting with someone who isn't interested, so you figure it out before you start. But how do you know, if, you know..." she trailed off, and hid her face even more in his shirt.
"If the guy I think is cute goes my way?"
"Yeah." she said, very quietly into his chest.
Bill sat there for a second. He wasn't stupid. And he was pretty good at putting clues together.
"I take it you're not watching -Harry- out the window, huh?" he said, softly. He felt her shake her head, and then she burst into tears, mixed, finally, with words,
"...and Mum's giving me grief because I'm being nasty but if I'm not I'll...I don't know, but it's awful, and she's sleeping right over there, and I keep having to -see- her, and...."
"Oh, honey," he said, patting her back, and letting her cry, and remembering his own great uncertainties.
Eventually the tears came to an end, and she sat up, vaguely apologizing. He handed her his handkerchief, and she blew her nose.
"Don't apologize," he said. "What's a big brother for? Besides, it sounded like you've had that inside for a long, long time. Needed to get it out."
She nodded.
"Now, to answer your question, people look. Start watching people, straight too, watch how they follow people with their eyes, how their body language is when they're interested. It doesn't change. And eventually, you get to where you kind of just know, and can pick the ones like you out of the crowd with a glance and a smile. But right now...it's going to be hard for a while, puff, no doubt about it."
"So...what do I do? I've waited a year, and it hasn't gone away," she asked, with a bleak look, hugging her arms to herself.
"Wait. Watch. If something's going to happen, you'll find her reaching out to you, too. And....for what it's worth? You've got it easier."
"Why?" she said, looking up at him, with the marks of tears still on her cheeks.
"Because girls generally respond to a pass with a kind smile and laugh, if they aren't interested. Guys, well... remember that broken nose I got in fifth year?" She nodded, and he went on. "I asked, and he punched me in the face."
"That's not what you told mum." He said nothing. She looked at him, and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I wouldn't have told Mum either."
And they sat there together in the dusk until noise from below heralded everyone coming inside for the night.