one month later
Hermione hadn't anticipated how busy she'd be, what with advanced classes, Head Girl status, and the extra credit project she'd taken on in Arithmancy. But Saturdays belonged to her and Ginny, by common accord, no matter how pressing the projects they were both doing. They walked together through the fallen leaves on the Hogwarts grounds or curled together in the corner of the common room talking, or, sometimes, spent the time in more intimate pursuits in one of their bedrooms. They had both gotten very good with silencing charms.
Ron had buckled down and gotten to work. With a goal in mind, he even skipped attendance at a Quidditch match in order to master a particularly intricate spell for Advanced Charms, and could occasionally be found with the diminuitive professor animatedly discussing the best methods of defusing various magical devices. His girlfriend Sylvia had retreated behind her own fortress of books, and neither seemed particularly disconsolate. Apparently that relationship had ended with a whimper instead of a bang. Harry, too, was studying hard, and when he wasn't buried in his books he was on the Quidditch field flying. As he had predicted, there were now scouts at some of the school matches, and Harry was getting a steady stream of owls about his future plans.
Often, though, the four of them could be found sitting together at a table heaped with books, silent save for someone chanting potions ingredients or spell categories under his breath and the scratch of quills. They had all mastered the companionable skill of working side by side, and although no words might be exchanged except the courtesies of arriving and leaving, the warmth of friendship was its own current between them.
--3:45 pm,Thursday--
Sensitive as she was to her partner's moods, Ginny did a doubletake when Hermione sat down beside her, radiating a baffled and angry helplessness that expressed itself in the way she rolled out her parchment and banged down her book.
"What's up?" Harry said, his attention drawn by the angry movements.
Her voice was angry and low. "Fucking Crabbe. Fucking Goyle. Offspring of a troll and a hag, the both of them."
The curses made the people at the next table look over, and Hermione took a deep breath to get herself under control.
"What happened, Hermione?" Ron asked, brow furrowed.
Ginny glanced at Harry, and saw him take on the focused awareness that came over him on the playing field.
"Oh, the usual unpleasantness," she said with a brittle airiness. "Offering to show me what a man is like, and all that crap."
"I meant it, Hermione," Ron said. "I'm perfectly happy to give you a hand with dealing with them. There's only one language clods like them understand."
"Offer appreciated, Ron," she said, with a sigh, "But really, they're just trying to get my goat. If either of us responds, they'll keep it up, and you and I don't keep the same schedule any more... it'd just get me a confrontation somewhere else. I have better things to do." She looked at her assignment notebook, then at it again, and then looked at Harry, frowning. "We were supposed to do two feet for Potions, right? He must be feeling unusually good, that's short."
"Yeah," Harry said, "Who knows. I'm just grateful for any breaks I can get, I've got a match tomorrow, and a practice tonight after dinner. Shorter work is good."
There were sounds of assent around the table, and everyone bent to their work. But Ginny still worried, and at supper, she decided she'd talk to Hermione.
--seven pm, the same day--
The Great Hall was, as usual, bright with color and full of the din of conversation. The one good thing about the noise, Ginny reflected, was that having a conversation of whispers in someone's ear was understandable and inconspicuous. She gathered up her courage, waited until Hermione swallowed the bite in her mouth, and spoke.
"Have you spoken to McGonagall about this yet?"
"About...Oh. No."
"Why not?" pressed Ginny. "If you were out, at work, this would be illegal, and you know it."
"And what will reporting it get me?" Hermione said, in an undertone. "I'll get harassed more by them because I got them in trouble. I knew when you and I came out that shit would happen. It's nothing I can't handle."
"All right," Ginny said. "I just worry, because your estimates of your capacity for putting up with shit are sometimes a little higher than it should be, and you don't stop when you should."
Hermione exhaled. "I know." She laid down her knife and squeezed Ginny's arm briefly in an affectionate gesture. "But...I just think this is the right thing to do.And, well, I've got to play it my way."
"I know, " Ginny said, smiling at her. I love her so much, she thought. "I do understand." But she started eating again before she made any promises.... like not going to McGonagall herself.
They were on their way out when it happened. It was just Ginny and Hermione, since Ron and Harry had gone off to Quidditch practice.
Ginny yelped as she stepped around a knot of students, coming around with her wand in hand and the other rubbing her ass. "Who the hell...?"
The knot of black robes revealed Malfoy and his cronies, with Avery smirking and grinning at Ginny. Malfoy reached out and slapped Avery lightly across the head.
"How rude, Avery," he said. "Apologize to Miss Weasley."
"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, " Avery repeated in a singsong, with anything but apology in his voice.
"Are you guys ever going to quit this bullshit?" Hermione said, annoyance in her voice.
"Well, you know, it's hard for a man to control himself around beautiful women. But I can see your annoyance at their rather crude attempts." He was being quite smooth. It was ruined by the fact that his eyes were slowly undressing her. "I'm sure your type is the more cultured variety, more...."
"Cut the crap, Malfoy, you're not my type. You're never going to be my type. I like girls, in case you hadn't heard. Now, go polish your broomstick and leave me alone, all right?"
And she walked off, leaving them behind her amidst a few snickers at their expense from the onlookers.
She left the memory, even, behind when she entered the library. Madam Pince gave her a small nod that would have been a welcoming smile from anyone else, and she headed back to her favorite study carrell. Whatever else might go on, she still had that potions practical to copy out neatly. And the Arithmancy assignment that she hadn't proofread. And she still had to do more than just read her sources for the History of Magic assignment due next week...why, if she wanted to relax that weekend, the paper had better be written by Friday. She spared a momentary panic for the Transfiguration paper due tomorrow before she remembered she had written it three days ago and put it in her desk drawer. All right. Everything was under control. She pulled out her rough draft and fresh parchment, took a deep centering breath, dipped her quill and began to write, happily losing herself in a creative trance.
--eight-thirty pm, the same day--
Ginny yelped with surprise as she and her Head of House tried not to fall down the stairs after colliding with each other.
"At least as much my fault as yours, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "My apologies...Are you all right?"
"Yes...." Ginny said, looking at her, and thinking of her earlier conversation. "But, Professor, I wanted to ask you...."
"Yes?"
Ginny changed her mind. "Um, never mind....I've got Potions to work on." And she turned pink and took off up the stairs.
Professor McGonagall looked after her with some puzzlement before she continued on her way. That wasn't like Ginny...but, then again, when she was ready to talk she would.
Hermione hadn't anticipated how busy she'd be, what with advanced classes, Head Girl status, and the extra credit project she'd taken on in Arithmancy. But Saturdays belonged to her and Ginny, by common accord, no matter how pressing the projects they were both doing. They walked together through the fallen leaves on the Hogwarts grounds or curled together in the corner of the common room talking, or, sometimes, spent the time in more intimate pursuits in one of their bedrooms. They had both gotten very good with silencing charms.
Ron had buckled down and gotten to work. With a goal in mind, he even skipped attendance at a Quidditch match in order to master a particularly intricate spell for Advanced Charms, and could occasionally be found with the diminuitive professor animatedly discussing the best methods of defusing various magical devices. His girlfriend Sylvia had retreated behind her own fortress of books, and neither seemed particularly disconsolate. Apparently that relationship had ended with a whimper instead of a bang. Harry, too, was studying hard, and when he wasn't buried in his books he was on the Quidditch field flying. As he had predicted, there were now scouts at some of the school matches, and Harry was getting a steady stream of owls about his future plans.
Often, though, the four of them could be found sitting together at a table heaped with books, silent save for someone chanting potions ingredients or spell categories under his breath and the scratch of quills. They had all mastered the companionable skill of working side by side, and although no words might be exchanged except the courtesies of arriving and leaving, the warmth of friendship was its own current between them.
--3:45 pm,Thursday--
Sensitive as she was to her partner's moods, Ginny did a doubletake when Hermione sat down beside her, radiating a baffled and angry helplessness that expressed itself in the way she rolled out her parchment and banged down her book.
"What's up?" Harry said, his attention drawn by the angry movements.
Her voice was angry and low. "Fucking Crabbe. Fucking Goyle. Offspring of a troll and a hag, the both of them."
The curses made the people at the next table look over, and Hermione took a deep breath to get herself under control.
"What happened, Hermione?" Ron asked, brow furrowed.
Ginny glanced at Harry, and saw him take on the focused awareness that came over him on the playing field.
"Oh, the usual unpleasantness," she said with a brittle airiness. "Offering to show me what a man is like, and all that crap."
"I meant it, Hermione," Ron said. "I'm perfectly happy to give you a hand with dealing with them. There's only one language clods like them understand."
"Offer appreciated, Ron," she said, with a sigh, "But really, they're just trying to get my goat. If either of us responds, they'll keep it up, and you and I don't keep the same schedule any more... it'd just get me a confrontation somewhere else. I have better things to do." She looked at her assignment notebook, then at it again, and then looked at Harry, frowning. "We were supposed to do two feet for Potions, right? He must be feeling unusually good, that's short."
"Yeah," Harry said, "Who knows. I'm just grateful for any breaks I can get, I've got a match tomorrow, and a practice tonight after dinner. Shorter work is good."
There were sounds of assent around the table, and everyone bent to their work. But Ginny still worried, and at supper, she decided she'd talk to Hermione.
--seven pm, the same day--
The Great Hall was, as usual, bright with color and full of the din of conversation. The one good thing about the noise, Ginny reflected, was that having a conversation of whispers in someone's ear was understandable and inconspicuous. She gathered up her courage, waited until Hermione swallowed the bite in her mouth, and spoke.
"Have you spoken to McGonagall about this yet?"
"About...Oh. No."
"Why not?" pressed Ginny. "If you were out, at work, this would be illegal, and you know it."
"And what will reporting it get me?" Hermione said, in an undertone. "I'll get harassed more by them because I got them in trouble. I knew when you and I came out that shit would happen. It's nothing I can't handle."
"All right," Ginny said. "I just worry, because your estimates of your capacity for putting up with shit are sometimes a little higher than it should be, and you don't stop when you should."
Hermione exhaled. "I know." She laid down her knife and squeezed Ginny's arm briefly in an affectionate gesture. "But...I just think this is the right thing to do.And, well, I've got to play it my way."
"I know, " Ginny said, smiling at her. I love her so much, she thought. "I do understand." But she started eating again before she made any promises.... like not going to McGonagall herself.
They were on their way out when it happened. It was just Ginny and Hermione, since Ron and Harry had gone off to Quidditch practice.
Ginny yelped as she stepped around a knot of students, coming around with her wand in hand and the other rubbing her ass. "Who the hell...?"
The knot of black robes revealed Malfoy and his cronies, with Avery smirking and grinning at Ginny. Malfoy reached out and slapped Avery lightly across the head.
"How rude, Avery," he said. "Apologize to Miss Weasley."
"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, " Avery repeated in a singsong, with anything but apology in his voice.
"Are you guys ever going to quit this bullshit?" Hermione said, annoyance in her voice.
"Well, you know, it's hard for a man to control himself around beautiful women. But I can see your annoyance at their rather crude attempts." He was being quite smooth. It was ruined by the fact that his eyes were slowly undressing her. "I'm sure your type is the more cultured variety, more...."
"Cut the crap, Malfoy, you're not my type. You're never going to be my type. I like girls, in case you hadn't heard. Now, go polish your broomstick and leave me alone, all right?"
And she walked off, leaving them behind her amidst a few snickers at their expense from the onlookers.
She left the memory, even, behind when she entered the library. Madam Pince gave her a small nod that would have been a welcoming smile from anyone else, and she headed back to her favorite study carrell. Whatever else might go on, she still had that potions practical to copy out neatly. And the Arithmancy assignment that she hadn't proofread. And she still had to do more than just read her sources for the History of Magic assignment due next week...why, if she wanted to relax that weekend, the paper had better be written by Friday. She spared a momentary panic for the Transfiguration paper due tomorrow before she remembered she had written it three days ago and put it in her desk drawer. All right. Everything was under control. She pulled out her rough draft and fresh parchment, took a deep centering breath, dipped her quill and began to write, happily losing herself in a creative trance.
--eight-thirty pm, the same day--
Ginny yelped with surprise as she and her Head of House tried not to fall down the stairs after colliding with each other.
"At least as much my fault as yours, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "My apologies...Are you all right?"
"Yes...." Ginny said, looking at her, and thinking of her earlier conversation. "But, Professor, I wanted to ask you...."
"Yes?"
Ginny changed her mind. "Um, never mind....I've got Potions to work on." And she turned pink and took off up the stairs.
Professor McGonagall looked after her with some puzzlement before she continued on her way. That wasn't like Ginny...but, then again, when she was ready to talk she would.