Bitter-Sweet
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this computer and the clothes on my back. My premiere Hermione/Ginny fic. 'A real artist creates beautiful things and puts nothing of his own life into them'. Kinda forgot about that. Hence a vaguely true story. The lyrics are from Bittersweet Symphony by the wonderful The Verve:
'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Try to make ends meet
You're a slave to money then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
where all the veins meet yeah,
No change, I can change
I can change, I can change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
But I'm a million different people
from one day to the next
I can't change my mold
No, no, no, no, no
Well I never pray
But tonight I'm on my knees yeah
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now
But the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me now
No change, I can change
I can change, I can change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
And I'm a million different people
from one day to the next
I can't change my mold
No, no, no, no, no
I can't change
I can't change
'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Try to make ends meet
Try to find some money then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
where all the things meet yeah
You know I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
And I'm a million different people
from one day to the next
I can't change my mold
No, no, no, no, no
I can't change my mold
no, no, no, no, no,
I can't change
Can't change my body,
no, no, no
Hermione Granger stood in front on the mirror and sighed. Her short brown hair, now copper in the evening sunshine that shone through the tower window, curled down over her shoulders: shoulders stooped from too many years of carrying huge dusty volumes all over the castle with her. Big brown eyes, thin eyebrows curving over them like fingers stretching out to each other over the desert of her forehead. Her thin, face, acne covered and pale. With a sigh Hermione turned away and ran downstairs to supper.
'Where've you been?' Said Harry as soon as she slid onto the end of the Gryffindor bench.
'Nowhere' She replied, and proceeded to pile her plate high with potatoes and drown them in gravy, studiously ignoring the red-haired sixth year tucking into a plate of roast chicken next to her brother.
Harry shot a sceptical glance at Ron, before they both burst out laughing.
'What?'
'Nothing. Nothing at all.' Harry said, before promptly falling off the bench in his amusement.
'Oh for Merlin's sake! Stop being so childish'
Harry and Ron had disappeared under the table and were whispering loudly. Hermione couldn't hear what they were saying. She was too busy trying to avoid the irresistible urge to kiss that little curl of flame that was gently caressing the forehead of the girl sitting opposite. She coughed and stared at her soggy potatoes.
Dammit. Thought Ginny. Why why why. Why can't I fancy Justin or Seamus or even bloody Harry? Why don't I want to hold them and kiss them? Why does it have to be her? She allowed herself a tiny glance over the table. She was so beautiful. Others didn't think so. Some even called her names, 'crater face' and 'mountain troll' because of her acne. But Ginny somehow never noticed it. Hermione's soul shone through in everything she did and that somehow made her as beautiful as the angels. Hermione looked up and Ginny blushed crimson.
Was she just looking at me? Or was she just thinking how disgusting my skin is. Probably that. Probably saying to herself 'She needs to get help…'
I need to get help. I don't know how much longer I can bear this. It's like a constant gnawing. I can't stand it. Maybe I should tell her? Oh bloody hell. How many times have I had this conversation with myself? I tell her, I tell her not. What's the worst that can happen? I ask myself. Then I think of what it would be like to have those beautiful chestnut coloured eyes look at me with disgust. No. I can't.
Maybe I should tell her? After all what's the worst that can happen? You could lose her friendship that's what, Hermione. And friendship's better than nothing, isn't it? I can't.
Harry and Ron crawled out from under the table at last, both grinning from ear to ear. They beamed at the two girls before running off up the stairs. Ginny looked nervously at Hermione. They were the only ones left at the table now. She had to say something.
'Have you got much homework tonight?'
'Yeah. NEWTS are coming up.'
'Oh. Of course'
Silence
'Have you finished?'
'Yeah'
Hermione and Ginny stood up and their plates vanished. They proceeded up the stairs together. They used to link arms like other girls did. But soon the contact became too dangerous. Both knew that only the slightest thing could trigger emotions that should only ever be hid in the depths of their heart. Neither knew how far she could control herself. They walked pretty speedily up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
Harry and Ron were sitting beside the fire, heads together, black and red. Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other before hurrying up the stairs. Hermione drew the drapes around her bed and undressed quickly. Her black Hogwarts robes were tossed carelessly on the bed and lay in a heap like a squished bat. She grabbed a pair of black jeans and a Curt Wild T-shirt from her drawer. Harry's godfathers' had introduced her to Wild when she stayed at their house last summer. Remus and Sirius would leap around the living room, singing at the tops of their voices whilst Harry, Hermione and Ron looked on in amusement. Even in the wizarding world, watching a homosexual werewolf and gay ex-convict dancing to glam rock was not something that one often had a chance to do.
Hermione sighed as she tied a leather lace around her long thin neck, dividing the pale flesh with a band of jet black. It had been a great summer, but all through it she'd never been able to think of anything but Ginny. The girls had never seen each other. Hermione had stayed at the Burrow, but Ginny had been away at Quidditch camp with Harry so they missed each other by about a week. It had still been fun with Ron though, apart from his incessant ranting about Lavender. He'd fancied her since fifth year but never had the courage to ask her out.
'I know just how he feels', thought Hermione as she pulled a brush through her unruly hair.
She wished every day that she was brave enough to tell Ginny how she felt, but it had never been granted. At least she knew Ginny was fine with gays. She got on great with Remus and Sirius, so did Hermione. Sirius was the only one she'd ever told about Ginny. She still couldn't quite figure out how she'd mangaged it. She let her mind drift back two months…