Harry took a deep breath.
"Hermione," he began slowly, waiting for every ounce of courage in his body to gather into one place before proceeding, "I love you."
The pair of eyes gazing directly into Harry's merely blinked in a bored sort of way.
Harry sighed and tried again.
"I love you, Hermione."
The face opposite Harry's emphasized its complete lack of interest with a rather rude fake yawn. Again, Harry sighed and tried changing tack.
"Hermione, I - "
"Look, just give it a rest, will you?" came the insolent reply. "You'll have to do a lot better than that!"
Harry sunk his head between his shoulders and glared piercingly at the mirror facing him, as his reflection pretended to yawn again. He was standing alone in the Burrow's main bathroom on the middle floor, and had spent the last few minutes muttering seriously to himself about his feelings towards Hermione, although why, he had no idea. It was almost as if he needed convincing that what he was saying was true. During the small pause that followed, Harry heard the Weasleys arousing themselves sleepily in their various bedrooms and starting their day. His watch beeped eight a.m.
"What do you mean, I'll have to do better than that?" Harry demanded of his reflective self. "What's wrong with it?"
"It ain't the truth, that's what," the mirror grinned.
"'Course it is, what are you talking about?" Harry said, getting more and more peeved by the second. These magical mirrors of the Wizarding World were so annoying with their retorts that Harry often found himself missing the old Muggle ones.
The reflection raised a questioning eyebrow, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Oh please," he groaned. "You and Hermione? You're not exactly a dream pair, are you?"
"We have been for the past few weeks," Harry growled, his eyes narrowing, and somewhere in the back of his mind he felt glad he was being so defensive of Hermione. He obviously felt more towards her than he though he di… wait a minute! Of course he feels strongly towards her, she's his girlfr…or was that what his reflection was saying…?
"Gotcha!" the mirror cried triumphantly, plainly reading Harry's thoughts.
"What do you think you are, my subconscious?" Harry snapped.
The reflection grinned in a way that clearly read "what else?"
"Just what are you trying to get at?" Harry demanded.
"Well, why don't you try saying all that tripe you were muttering before, again?" his reflection suggested innocently. "Only this time using a different name – any name, like….say…oh, I don't know…the name of a certain red-haired fourth year, for example?"
"I'm sure Ron'll be very flattered," Harry muttered dryly with a frown.
"Oh ha ha. You know who I mean. Someone who happened to capture your heart last night?"
"Ginny," Harry muttered.
"See, you admit it!"
Harry thought about this. He'd spent all night thinking about Ginny and her advice, and much as the whole new side of her had enchanted him, he knew he was still Hermione's. Hermione loved him and Harry had no desire whatsoever to hurt her by pursuing these emotions Ginny had aroused, much as he might have liked to have done. Besides, realistically speaking, a quick conversation and embrace last night really wasn't enough to rival the last few weeks of his relationship with Hermione anyway.
Ignoring his reflection, Harry hastily splashed some cold water on his face, flicked some stray hair out of his eyes, unlocked the bathroom door, and, as he pulled it open, found himself face-to-face with Hermione. Her blue dressing-gown was hanging loosely off her bare shoulders and over her nightdress, making her look particularly, erm, attractive, Harry thought. Hermione looked slightly startled, but recovered immediately and beamed at her boyfriend.
"Good morning, Harry."
"Hi Hermione," Harry smiled back, feeling only slightly awkward, his mind still on his brief conversation with his "subconscious". "Sleep well?"
"Yeah, fine. You?"
"As of about three o clock in the morning, yeah, great," Harry shrugged. "Better than ever."
Hermione laughed. "You should have woken me up, we could have had a night-time stroll together. That's one thing we haven't done yet."
Oh I had a night-time stroll all right, Harry thought guiltily, only it wasn't with you.
"Anyway, I'm going in for a shower now," said Hermione. "I'll see you at breakfast."
As she walked past him, she planted a small kiss on his lips which he was almost reluctant to accept. Perhaps noticing his hesitation, Hermione gave him a fleeting searching look, smiled, then closed the door behind her, Harry gazing blankly after her.
"Nothing like a tongue sandwich to start your day, is there?" said a quiet voice behind him.
Harry turned and saw Ginny leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom, which was the room directly opposite the bathroom door, her arms folded and her eyes on Harry. She was still in her pyjamas, and Harry couldn't help marveling, once again, at how Bill's old T-shirt complemented her teenage figure.
"Hermione and I don't use our tongues," he informed her, half annoyed by the taunting in her tone, half very pleased to see her.
"Why not?"
"Dunno, it just doesn't feel right," Harry shrugged, sending a guilty half-glance at the bathroom door behind him, wondering whether he should be discussing this with Ginny or not.
"Funny, I always heard that tongues were everything," Ginny smiled. "They're supposed to represent the passion and the longing and the…." She broke off and shrugged. "…well, so I've heard, anyway. I wouldn't know. I've never been kissed…"
Mmmm, well, maybe I'll be able to change that sometime, Harry thought automatically, and was immediately traumatized by this.
"…and, yes, I know that's a Muggle film, too," Ginny added. "I told you, I like keeping up to date with these things."
"Yeah, you did," Harry muttered, once again marveling at just how much more to her there was than met the naked eye in which he'd seen her for years.
"Did you sleep well?"
"As of Wednesday Morning 3 a.m., I did, yes," Ginny replied with a small hint smuggled into her smile, which Harry took immediately. His mind flew back five hours to their moonlit encounter, and as they held each other's gaze, Harry's heart gave the same fluttering sensation he'd felt when Ginny had held him in her comforting arms. Inevitably, Hermione was pushed to a distant, less relevant corner of his mind.
"And you?" Ginny asked in what was almost a whisper.
"Never slept better," Harry replied honestly, causing Ginny's eyes to sparkle.
They continued to gaze into each other's eyes for a few silent moments, their eyes saying more than words ever could. Eventually, Ginny broke the silence. "Anyway, I'm going to get dressed," she said quietly. "I'll see you at breakfast."
"Yeah," said Harry dreamily. "Oh, and Ginny…" he began as she turned to her room.
"Yes?" she turned, her soft hair spiraling magnificently around her face as she swung round to face him again.
"Nice T-shirt," he muttered again.
"Glad you like it," she laughed. "I wear it every night, you can see it whenever you want," and with a small smile still playing on her lips, she disappeared into her room and closed the door.
Standing between the closed bathroom door behind which stood Hermione, and the closed bedroom door of Ginny's room, Harry felt thoroughly lost. As his confused eyes darted between them, someone to his left cleared their throat. Looking up, he saw Ron leaning on the landing wall, wearing an expression of challenging yet smiley interrogation identical to Harry's reflection's a few minutes ago.
"What?" said Harry.
* * * *
"Don't send me out, stupid! Are you blind? Can't you see his rook?" Hermione's white knight shouted up at her.
Hermione sighed. The set of chessmen she'd borrowed from Fred and George to play against Ron, had started pelting her with useless suicidal "advice" since the beginning of the game. Lousy as she was at chess, Hermione could tell that retreating her knight would not only allow Ron's army to plough easily towards her king, it would also mean losing her chance to check his. She couldn't help wondering if this wasn't another idea of the twins' for their joke-shop plans – Suicidal Chessmen, Guaranteed to win you the game, and a load of laughs, Hermione thought. Well, the idea may be amusing, but she certainly wasn't enjoying it. She tossed her hair in frustration, failing to notice the way this simple movement hypnotized her opponent. The early lunchtime sun slanted into the kitchen through the large window over the sink and a soft summer breeze stroked the faces of the four teenagers sitting at the scrubbed kitchen table. Harry and Ginny kneeled on the chairs on either side of Ron and Hermione, offering whispered advice at random, though neither of them was any good.
Ron slid his bishop diagonally across the chessboard with his finger, where it pummeled the knight with one sharp blow that sent it flying in an impressive arc to the pile of defeated chesspieces on the table.
"That's for calling Hermione stupid," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, although Hermione heard him and raised her glowing eyes to his, making his ears burn.
Their eyes latched onto each other for a few moments and as rich-chocolate-brown met denim-blue, Hermione was thrown into a flashback –
"I love them both," she had decided on February 24th in a wave of inexpressible relief as Harry, Ron and Gabrielle Delacour trudged out of the Hogwarts lake. "Harry and Ron. I don't know how or why or who I love more, all I know is that they're my whole world, I love them and I'll never let them out of my sight again."
Although this was just a silly little game of chess, Ron's indignation on her behalf touched her in the deep sector of her heart she reserved just for Harry. She'd loved Ron as more than the best friend he was, earlier in the year…maybe her feelings hadn't completely vanished. She could hear Harry's soft breathing on her left. Who was she kidding? Harry was her man, he always had been. Her ultimate fantasy boyfriend, and now that he was hers…although at the same time, gazing into Ron's blue eyes, she couldn't help wishing Harry and Ginny would go away…
"I…can't concentrate with you two breathing down my neck," she said quietly and calmly, playing awkwardly with her hair and avoiding Harry and Ginny's eyes. "It's hard enough trying to concentrate with these chesspieces…could you find something else to do?"
Harry and Ginny exchanged a bewildered glance, then Ginny smiled and indicated the garden with a jerk of her head. Harry, feeling strangely thrilled, grinned at her and they both got up from the table.
"We'll call you when the game's over," Hermione called after them as they disappeared through the screen door. "We won't be long."
As the screen door snapped shut behind them, Hermione smiled internally, looked back into Ron's bemused eyes, then allowed an external smile to slip onto her face, feeling oddly pleased that she and Ron were alone.
"Your move," she said lightly, as her pawn rammed into his rook.
* * *
Behind the Burrow was a gradually sloping hillock overlooking the apple orchards the Weasleys often used to practice Quidditch. Harry followed Ginny up the hill, the early afternoon sun beaming gently down at them, excitement and happiness coursing through him. He didn't even question these feelings. He'd accepted the fact that he was torn between his emotions for the two girls and this was his time alone with one of them. Ginny led him to the top of the slope, then settled herself on the grass and lay on her back.
"Come on," she said, patting the grass next to her.
"What are we doing?" Harry asked awkwardly, sitting down next to her.
"Just relaxing," Ginny assured him. "Enjoying the sun, staring at the clouds, making the most of the summer…"
Harry smiled and lay down, taking care to keep a foot or so of grass between himself and Ginny. For a while, they both lay in silence, gazing at the cloud formations in the clear cerulean sky above them, the soft breeze teasing their hair.
Harry glanced sideways at Ginny and saw a rather thoughtful expression on her face as she watched the clouds drift by lazily.
"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly, with a small gut feeling he could guess.
Her eyes still on the heavens, Ginny seemed to hesitate before replying, "Boys."
Harry enjoyed an internal smile. "Anyone in particular?"
"Boys in general," came the soft reply, and Harry, noticing she hadn't merely said "no", felt his spirits rise. "I was just thinking…what is it men want in a girl? Most just want good looks, an hourglass figure, a couple of other things I don't have…"
"That's not true," Harry said quickly, and Ginny turned to face him, her eyebrows arched in that Ginny Weasley way.
"What's not true? What I said about men or what I said about me?"
Feeling it was probably best to ignore the question, lest he let his feelings out in the process, Harry changed tack.
"How many blokes do you know with that attitude?" he asked with a smile.
"Too many," Ginny sighed. "Why?" she added, now turning her body slowly and lying on her side, her eyes on his, "What do you love so much about Hermione?"
Harry's eyes darted to the pigsty-shaped Burrow at the foot of hill, and seeing that he looked extremely uncomfortable, Ginny modified the question. "Okay, let me put it this way – if you weren't Hermione's, what kind of girl would you be looking for?"
Now that was a question he felt he could contend with, Harry thought, shifting slightly and lying on his side too, gazing directly into Ginny's eyes. The light that filled her sparkling eyes glowed more warmly in the sunlight and, enchanted, Harry felt the answer emerge easily from his heart, rather than his mouth.
"Well…" he began slowly, unable to remove his gaze from the incredible brownness of her eyes, "it would have to be someone sweet, caring, sensitive…with a good sense of humour, someone kind and fun-loving…someone special with her own special…magic about her…someone I feel at ease with, yet feel excited and wonderful when I'm with her…there are only two girls in the world like that."
Ginny seemed to be holding her breath. Her beautiful eyes were fixed searchingly and unblinkingly on his acid-green ones.
"Two?" she whispered, hardly daring to ask in case the answer involved a certain Ravenclaw Seeker.
"You," said Harry quietly, his heart beating furiously at what he was saying, although he felt relatively calm, as though he'd rehearsed this scene countless times before.
Ginny continued to gaze into his eyes, challenging herself to believe her ears were functioning properly. After a moment's silence, she asked, "And what's the difference between me and Hermione?"
The word "Hermione" seemed to echo emptily and meaninglessly in the uncharted chambers in the back of Harry's mind. Ginny's eyes whispered encouragement to him, and as they caught the sunlight again, Harry knew without question where his heart lay.
"The difference is…" Harry said softly, so's not to startle her, "I don't love Hermione."
Ginny's eyes widened in wordless delight. Though no smile appeared on her lips, Harry could see one very plainly in her heart. The twinkle in her eyes urging him, Harry leaned forward on the grass, his eyelids sliding dreamily down as his face approached hers. Slowly, allowing Ginny plenty of time to back away should she choose to, he planted his lips on hers. Far from objecting, her mouth gripped his, their lips caressing each other gently for a few heavenly moments. They paused, their eyes opening and their lips parting, as they briefly considered the legitimacy of their kiss…Hermione momentarily sprung unwillingly to mind, as did the almost family-like closeness they'd grown up with, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's reaction, everyone at school's reaction, Hermione's reaction… but their eyes met again and the deep love burning wistfully in their hearts ruled out all these doubts. They were in love, and nothing more mattered.
Simultaneously, like two powerful magnets, the lips and hearts attracted and this time the kiss was genuine. Their mouths opened slightly as the kiss intensified drastically. Harry felt whole – this was everything that was missing from Hermione's kisses, completely incomparable to anything he'd experienced before. Without hesitation, he jerked his tongue into life and slid it across the border into Ginny's mouth. With obvious enthusiasm, Ginny's tongue retaliated and played in Harry's mouth. The passion, the longing and the unmistakable love danced between them, surging through the two hearts…
As the kiss gradually drew to a climaxed close, Harry slowly opened his eyes and muttered, "I love you, Ginny."
"I know," said Ginny softly. "I love you too, Harry, but…"
"But what?"
"What about Hermione?"
"I told you, I don't love her," Harry assured her, taking her hand and gazing lovingly into her eyes.
"But she loves you," said Ginny seriously. "And she thinks you feel the same about her…"
Harry froze as Ginny's words sunk in. He loved Hermione very much as the best friend she'd always been to him, she was extremely special to him and his world would be unthinkable without her. But he loved her as family, as the closest of sisters, while his heart belonged to Ginny. Telling Hermione that the past few weeks of their relationship had all been fake and unreal would break her heart. Add the fact that he was now in a loving relationship with her best friend, and she'd never look him in the eyes again. She'd hate him more than Malfoy ever would, and bringing her crashing down like that would break his, Harry's heart as much as it would hers.
"We'll work something out," Harry muttered in such obviously dubious optimism, that Ginny could only feel worse…