For all that Ginny and Hermione had been keeping things quiet,
eventually people started to notice that something was going on. Harry and
Ron, when asked, told the querents to go talk to Hermione or Ginny
themselves. A slow wave of surprise, a small amount of discomfort (chiefly
from Lavender and Parvati) and some resettling of attitudes followed
throughout Gryffindor Tower. Ginny, after about four false starts and a lot
of staring out the window, wrote a letter home, and got one back in return
that had her dashing out of breakfast in tears.
"It's not bad," she told Hermione, when she caught up with her
in a corner, "it's just...Mum's way of saying it, you know? And, she said
that you would be welcome at The Burrow anytime you wanted to come home
with me."
The letter brought tears to Hermione's eyes, too. She found
herself thinking about the approaching Easter vacation, and trying out
conversations in her mind. They all fell flat. How do you tell your parents
that you're gay? That she didn't know. But editing her weekly letter home
was hard. Her initial impulse would have had Ginny's name in every line,
the sparkle of a new love affair shining from between the lines in a way no
one could miss. The letters she did wind up sending were colder and
choppier, and the letters in return took on a more complaining tone.
Hermione began to dread mail call.
Easter holiday was looming, and she was still no nearer a resolution. She would go home, and fake it, she decided, finally, and let it be. It wasn't like it was summer, or anything, she could manage for one week, surely....Besides, midterm exams were coming up. Those were enough to distract anyone.
She was sitting in Potions class, listening to Snape lecture, when she felt...eyes on her. Slowly, slowly, under cover of retrieving a dropped quill, she glanced over, and met the cool grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He was looking at her with a lazy regard that somehow reminded her of a leopard looking at a distant deer, and she shivered.
"Hey, guys, do I have something on my robes or a smudge on my face?" she asked, when they left.
"No," said Harry, "why?"
"Malfoy was staring at me all during class."
"Um, no offense, Hermione," said Ron, "but, um, you're not exactly eleven anymore and, um...." he turned red, tied himself up in his words, and stopped in confusion. However, she got his message.
"Yeah, well, maybe he IS looking at me. But, you know, I thought by now the word had got around to the other houses too, you know, about me not being interested in boys that way."
"Yeah," said Harry. "You can send an owl to the Daily Prophet or you can drop a hint to Lavender and Parvati." They all laughed, and Hermione put it out of her head. Who knew what Malfoy was thinking, anyway, pretentious asshole that he was.
"You do know Mum would love to have you at The Burrow," said Ginny, as they walked down to Hogsmeade to catch the train. Hermione sighed.
"I know. But I've got some things to talk over with my parents, and I want to see how my father's doing. If it gets too bad, I'll come over. I've got Floo powder, after all."
They were very carefully not touching, although the electricity between them was nearly visible, and hadn't been much diminished by their lovemaking of the night before. Hermione thrust her worries down and away, and found herself laughing at Harry and Ron's stories. They always can make me laugh, she thought with affection, as the compartment door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy standing there.
He had not changed, essentially, over the years, although he had learned to conceal his prejudices and narcissism under a facade of charm, when he so chose. Physically, he favored his father, being moderately tall and lean, and he wore his long blond hair tied back most of the time. His grey eyes were cool and contemptuous, but there was a flicker of something else as they passed over Hermione and Ginny.
"What do YOU want, Malfoy?" said Ron, looking at him with distaste.
Draco just laughed, unpleasantly. "Merely amusing myself by watching the unexceptional in pursuit of the unachievable. Or did Granger turn queer because of your inept attempts?"
Ron went red, and Harry went white, and Hermione couldn't speak for sheer shock. Draco smiled slightly, and continued.
"You know, Granger, if you ever want to try a real man, I'd be delighted to show you how it works...or you, Weasley," he said, his cool eyes raking Ginny with a slow insolence that brought a growl from her brother.
"I'd have to find one, first," she said, tone cool, although her eyes shot fire. "You definitely don't qualify."
"Get the fuck out, Malfoy," Potter said, back in command of his voice. "I don't feel like hexing you right now, and I'd hate to be put to the trouble."
A small high flush appeared on Malfoy's cheekbones. The memory of the Furunculus Curse still lingered, mused Hermione, and smiled. He turned to her, irritated.
"Go ahead, laugh now, you little mudblood dyke. You'll get yours, soon enough, and I'll enjoy every minute of it."
And he banged the door behind him. Amid the angry words from Ron and Harry, and Ginny pointing out that she'd hex the first one of them that made a move to waste their time on such a stupid twit, Hermione worked on her shaking hands and roiling gut. Mudblood dyke. She hadn't realized that it would hurt so much when someone said it. She retreated to the loo, and cast a charm to calm herself....they were close to the station, after all, and she didn't want her mother to figure out that she was upset. She damn straight didn't want to discuss why.
At the station, Ron and Harry piled out, giving them a bare second of privacy. "Take care," Ginny said, her eyes full of want and love and frustration.
"I will," said Hermione, unable to look at her for wanting to cry. She pulled her calm, everything-is-normal facade about her, and walked out, not looking back.
"Hello, dear," said her mother, giving her a quick and decorous embrace and peck on the cheek. "I thought we might get some tea before returning to the house. That way your father will be home when we get there, and I have a good supper planned."
"That sounds lovely, Mother, " Hermione said, and felt very cold and chill inside. The undeniable rigid Muggleness of her family was already closing around her, and it didn't fit any more. It couldn't even pretend to fit. She knew that much already.
* * *
A/N: Don't worry, we're not done. Not by a long shot. Next one is titled "Realizations"...coming back to school with a new understanding of who you are, and making decisions about it. And yes, this version of Draco has him as a distinctly unpleasant person. What can I say....like father, like son. It's how he's acting here.
Easter holiday was looming, and she was still no nearer a resolution. She would go home, and fake it, she decided, finally, and let it be. It wasn't like it was summer, or anything, she could manage for one week, surely....Besides, midterm exams were coming up. Those were enough to distract anyone.
She was sitting in Potions class, listening to Snape lecture, when she felt...eyes on her. Slowly, slowly, under cover of retrieving a dropped quill, she glanced over, and met the cool grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He was looking at her with a lazy regard that somehow reminded her of a leopard looking at a distant deer, and she shivered.
"Hey, guys, do I have something on my robes or a smudge on my face?" she asked, when they left.
"No," said Harry, "why?"
"Malfoy was staring at me all during class."
"Um, no offense, Hermione," said Ron, "but, um, you're not exactly eleven anymore and, um...." he turned red, tied himself up in his words, and stopped in confusion. However, she got his message.
"Yeah, well, maybe he IS looking at me. But, you know, I thought by now the word had got around to the other houses too, you know, about me not being interested in boys that way."
"Yeah," said Harry. "You can send an owl to the Daily Prophet or you can drop a hint to Lavender and Parvati." They all laughed, and Hermione put it out of her head. Who knew what Malfoy was thinking, anyway, pretentious asshole that he was.
"You do know Mum would love to have you at The Burrow," said Ginny, as they walked down to Hogsmeade to catch the train. Hermione sighed.
"I know. But I've got some things to talk over with my parents, and I want to see how my father's doing. If it gets too bad, I'll come over. I've got Floo powder, after all."
They were very carefully not touching, although the electricity between them was nearly visible, and hadn't been much diminished by their lovemaking of the night before. Hermione thrust her worries down and away, and found herself laughing at Harry and Ron's stories. They always can make me laugh, she thought with affection, as the compartment door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy standing there.
He had not changed, essentially, over the years, although he had learned to conceal his prejudices and narcissism under a facade of charm, when he so chose. Physically, he favored his father, being moderately tall and lean, and he wore his long blond hair tied back most of the time. His grey eyes were cool and contemptuous, but there was a flicker of something else as they passed over Hermione and Ginny.
"What do YOU want, Malfoy?" said Ron, looking at him with distaste.
Draco just laughed, unpleasantly. "Merely amusing myself by watching the unexceptional in pursuit of the unachievable. Or did Granger turn queer because of your inept attempts?"
Ron went red, and Harry went white, and Hermione couldn't speak for sheer shock. Draco smiled slightly, and continued.
"You know, Granger, if you ever want to try a real man, I'd be delighted to show you how it works...or you, Weasley," he said, his cool eyes raking Ginny with a slow insolence that brought a growl from her brother.
"I'd have to find one, first," she said, tone cool, although her eyes shot fire. "You definitely don't qualify."
"Get the fuck out, Malfoy," Potter said, back in command of his voice. "I don't feel like hexing you right now, and I'd hate to be put to the trouble."
A small high flush appeared on Malfoy's cheekbones. The memory of the Furunculus Curse still lingered, mused Hermione, and smiled. He turned to her, irritated.
"Go ahead, laugh now, you little mudblood dyke. You'll get yours, soon enough, and I'll enjoy every minute of it."
And he banged the door behind him. Amid the angry words from Ron and Harry, and Ginny pointing out that she'd hex the first one of them that made a move to waste their time on such a stupid twit, Hermione worked on her shaking hands and roiling gut. Mudblood dyke. She hadn't realized that it would hurt so much when someone said it. She retreated to the loo, and cast a charm to calm herself....they were close to the station, after all, and she didn't want her mother to figure out that she was upset. She damn straight didn't want to discuss why.
At the station, Ron and Harry piled out, giving them a bare second of privacy. "Take care," Ginny said, her eyes full of want and love and frustration.
"I will," said Hermione, unable to look at her for wanting to cry. She pulled her calm, everything-is-normal facade about her, and walked out, not looking back.
"Hello, dear," said her mother, giving her a quick and decorous embrace and peck on the cheek. "I thought we might get some tea before returning to the house. That way your father will be home when we get there, and I have a good supper planned."
"That sounds lovely, Mother, " Hermione said, and felt very cold and chill inside. The undeniable rigid Muggleness of her family was already closing around her, and it didn't fit any more. It couldn't even pretend to fit. She knew that much already.
* * *
A/N: Don't worry, we're not done. Not by a long shot. Next one is titled "Realizations"...coming back to school with a new understanding of who you are, and making decisions about it. And yes, this version of Draco has him as a distinctly unpleasant person. What can I say....like father, like son. It's how he's acting here.