a week later
Hermione was largely silent on the train ride back to Hogwarts, although Ron and Harry made up for it by retelling events that had happened over the holiday, which were apparently funnier in the retelling. Ginny didn't speak much, but sat in her corner of the car, looking at Hermione, who was looking firmly out the window and responding in monosyllables.
Finally, she'd had enough. "Gentlemen," she said to her brother and Harry," do you mind very much walking down to the end of the train and getting me something to drink?"
"But..." said Ron, shutting his mouth as Harry darted a significant glance toward Hermione, apparently rapt in the view of a lot of fields. "Oh, um, right. It'll probably take us a few..."
Harry dragged him out, and shut the door. Ginny sighed, shook her head, and then sat down across from Hermione. "Hey," she said. "What's wrong?"
Hermione rubbed a hand across her face. "I'm...I'm just very tired. Mentally. My parents...well, you know." She darted a glance at the door to the compartment, and said, "Come see me tonight, hm?"
Ginny nodded, and reached out to take her hand, which she squeezed briefly. "Love you."
Hermione's hand clutched hers for a moment in a death grip, then eased, and she smiled. "Love you too."
And just about then the door opened and Harry was handing them all some butterbeer, and the conversation resumed. It filled the silence, if not the space, the rest of the way back.
*
The Gryffindor common room was scarcely an improvement on the Great Hall in terms of noise and number of people, all packed in and talking about their holidays. Finally, Ginny slid out, up the staircase, turned right instead of left, and tapped three times, waited, and tapped twice more. The door opened, and a murmured word from Hermione relocked it. She waved her wand and put up the usual silencing wards, and then the two girls looked at each other in the silence.
"It was bad, huh?" said Ginny finally, and sat down on the bed.
Hermione nodded. "And I didn't tell them. I just... couldn't. Mother's such a force of nature, it's just easier to nod and go along with it than argue with her about it, or do any different. That's how Father deals with it, anyway. "
"And do your own thing when they aren't looking."
"Well, you could," said Hermione, "you've got brothers to distract her. But it was just me. And, dear Gods, she is -always- looking..."
This came out in a near moan of pain.
"I never get any privacy. The Muggle clothing there...I fold it and put it away, and it's shifted in my drawers. The letters from Harry and Ron that I kept...they've been ruffled through. And....I just felt, waking up there...that it was all a dream, a lovely beautiful dream and I was a Muggle again, that I never left."
Ginny shook her head. "You are no Muggle, ever. No way no how."
"My room is the same as when I left at eleven, you know," Hermione said, in a pained voice." I- I think Mother wants me to stay eleven. And I can't."
"You couldn't if you want to, and you don't."
"That's just it...I don't, and I don't....I feel as if...If I become who I want to be, turn from a caterpillar into a butterfly, that I'm somehow letting them down." The words came in painful, disjointed phrases, and Hermione was staring off into space, as if eye contact was too intimate.
"I didn't even know what to say to my father. We...we wound up talking about his health most of the week, because he was willing to talk about that. But he didn't have a thing new to say about anything else, and, I....I was having trouble of thinking of anything but you."
Ginny smiled, but Hermione's eyes were fixed on something distant.
"Not that it matters....they get a rather glazed, bored look when I talk about anything to do with school, or, well, anything magical. I just realized...how separated I am. By being a witch, I mean. Being gay just adds an element. I need to get used to it."
"Yeah, I suppose, " Ginny said thoughtfully," But it's not going to be easy." "I love them," Hermione said, in a voice thick with tears unshed. "I just...I don't like them very much."
Ginny murmured something, but let her continue.
"And I don't have much in common with them. And I never will...I'll go on to college, and get a magical job, and I'll never be what they wanted, no matter what I do. Because I've got magic."
"No, because you're not a replica of either of them," said Ginny. "This wouldn't be different if you were a Muggle. I mean, look at Mum fighting with Charlie about that damn job of his. Muggles do that, from what you've said."
"Yeah...but...God, I know I should just let go, but these are my -parents-, they're everything....and oh, God, it -hurts-...." She dissolved into sobs, and Ginny walked over to the desk and let Hermione lean against her and cry, stroking her hair, murmuring to her.
Finally she moved them both over to the bed, and they lay there together, chastely clothed, and Hermione laid her head against Ginny's shoulder, like a child with its mother.
"I...I don't really know what to do now, " Hermione said softly. "All my life I've worked because it made them smile, got me a pat on the head. And now...what do I do if I'm not doing that?"
"I don't know," Ginny said. "What do you want to do?"
Hermione sighed. "I know I want to go on to college...I should start looking at programs, really...consider what to take next year. See about getting my own place when I get out of school, and maybe see if I can get an internship. My...my grandfather left me a trust fund, I'll get it when I'm eighteen."
"You won't be completely dependent on your parents, then," said Ginny, feeling her partner calm as she considered the practicalities of the situation. "And, I'm really pretty sure that if you needed somewhere to come for the summer, Mum wouldn't have a problem. I know I wouldn't," she added, with a blush.
"Are you kidding? She loves having people around to mother," said Hermione, and felt Ginny giggle.
"You feeling better?" she asked, and sat up to look at Hermione's face.
"Yeah," said Hermione, with a smile that was finally unforced. "Sorry to cry on you."
"Hey, what are friends for?" Ginny returned, and hugged her. She realized, as she did so, that Hermione was in a completely different mood now, and shivered as teeth teased her neck in little nips that sent an electric shock straight to her groin.
"I did have other motives for asking you in here tonight besides falling apart, you know," she whispered, the very breath itself a tease, as her hands moved down Ginny's body. "But I didn't think you'd mind. God, but I missed you...."
Ginny flipped her over, and clothes went flying as she proceeded to prove just how little she minded indeed, and just how much she'd missed her in return.
Hermione was largely silent on the train ride back to Hogwarts, although Ron and Harry made up for it by retelling events that had happened over the holiday, which were apparently funnier in the retelling. Ginny didn't speak much, but sat in her corner of the car, looking at Hermione, who was looking firmly out the window and responding in monosyllables.
Finally, she'd had enough. "Gentlemen," she said to her brother and Harry," do you mind very much walking down to the end of the train and getting me something to drink?"
"But..." said Ron, shutting his mouth as Harry darted a significant glance toward Hermione, apparently rapt in the view of a lot of fields. "Oh, um, right. It'll probably take us a few..."
Harry dragged him out, and shut the door. Ginny sighed, shook her head, and then sat down across from Hermione. "Hey," she said. "What's wrong?"
Hermione rubbed a hand across her face. "I'm...I'm just very tired. Mentally. My parents...well, you know." She darted a glance at the door to the compartment, and said, "Come see me tonight, hm?"
Ginny nodded, and reached out to take her hand, which she squeezed briefly. "Love you."
Hermione's hand clutched hers for a moment in a death grip, then eased, and she smiled. "Love you too."
And just about then the door opened and Harry was handing them all some butterbeer, and the conversation resumed. It filled the silence, if not the space, the rest of the way back.
*
The Gryffindor common room was scarcely an improvement on the Great Hall in terms of noise and number of people, all packed in and talking about their holidays. Finally, Ginny slid out, up the staircase, turned right instead of left, and tapped three times, waited, and tapped twice more. The door opened, and a murmured word from Hermione relocked it. She waved her wand and put up the usual silencing wards, and then the two girls looked at each other in the silence.
"It was bad, huh?" said Ginny finally, and sat down on the bed.
Hermione nodded. "And I didn't tell them. I just... couldn't. Mother's such a force of nature, it's just easier to nod and go along with it than argue with her about it, or do any different. That's how Father deals with it, anyway. "
"And do your own thing when they aren't looking."
"Well, you could," said Hermione, "you've got brothers to distract her. But it was just me. And, dear Gods, she is -always- looking..."
This came out in a near moan of pain.
"I never get any privacy. The Muggle clothing there...I fold it and put it away, and it's shifted in my drawers. The letters from Harry and Ron that I kept...they've been ruffled through. And....I just felt, waking up there...that it was all a dream, a lovely beautiful dream and I was a Muggle again, that I never left."
Ginny shook her head. "You are no Muggle, ever. No way no how."
"My room is the same as when I left at eleven, you know," Hermione said, in a pained voice." I- I think Mother wants me to stay eleven. And I can't."
"You couldn't if you want to, and you don't."
"That's just it...I don't, and I don't....I feel as if...If I become who I want to be, turn from a caterpillar into a butterfly, that I'm somehow letting them down." The words came in painful, disjointed phrases, and Hermione was staring off into space, as if eye contact was too intimate.
"I didn't even know what to say to my father. We...we wound up talking about his health most of the week, because he was willing to talk about that. But he didn't have a thing new to say about anything else, and, I....I was having trouble of thinking of anything but you."
Ginny smiled, but Hermione's eyes were fixed on something distant.
"Not that it matters....they get a rather glazed, bored look when I talk about anything to do with school, or, well, anything magical. I just realized...how separated I am. By being a witch, I mean. Being gay just adds an element. I need to get used to it."
"Yeah, I suppose, " Ginny said thoughtfully," But it's not going to be easy." "I love them," Hermione said, in a voice thick with tears unshed. "I just...I don't like them very much."
Ginny murmured something, but let her continue.
"And I don't have much in common with them. And I never will...I'll go on to college, and get a magical job, and I'll never be what they wanted, no matter what I do. Because I've got magic."
"No, because you're not a replica of either of them," said Ginny. "This wouldn't be different if you were a Muggle. I mean, look at Mum fighting with Charlie about that damn job of his. Muggles do that, from what you've said."
"Yeah...but...God, I know I should just let go, but these are my -parents-, they're everything....and oh, God, it -hurts-...." She dissolved into sobs, and Ginny walked over to the desk and let Hermione lean against her and cry, stroking her hair, murmuring to her.
Finally she moved them both over to the bed, and they lay there together, chastely clothed, and Hermione laid her head against Ginny's shoulder, like a child with its mother.
"I...I don't really know what to do now, " Hermione said softly. "All my life I've worked because it made them smile, got me a pat on the head. And now...what do I do if I'm not doing that?"
"I don't know," Ginny said. "What do you want to do?"
Hermione sighed. "I know I want to go on to college...I should start looking at programs, really...consider what to take next year. See about getting my own place when I get out of school, and maybe see if I can get an internship. My...my grandfather left me a trust fund, I'll get it when I'm eighteen."
"You won't be completely dependent on your parents, then," said Ginny, feeling her partner calm as she considered the practicalities of the situation. "And, I'm really pretty sure that if you needed somewhere to come for the summer, Mum wouldn't have a problem. I know I wouldn't," she added, with a blush.
"Are you kidding? She loves having people around to mother," said Hermione, and felt Ginny giggle.
"You feeling better?" she asked, and sat up to look at Hermione's face.
"Yeah," said Hermione, with a smile that was finally unforced. "Sorry to cry on you."
"Hey, what are friends for?" Ginny returned, and hugged her. She realized, as she did so, that Hermione was in a completely different mood now, and shivered as teeth teased her neck in little nips that sent an electric shock straight to her groin.
"I did have other motives for asking you in here tonight besides falling apart, you know," she whispered, the very breath itself a tease, as her hands moved down Ginny's body. "But I didn't think you'd mind. God, but I missed you...."
Ginny flipped her over, and clothes went flying as she proceeded to prove just how little she minded indeed, and just how much she'd missed her in return.