********
"Ron!"
Hermione put the book she was reading down in her lap and looked over at her red-headed friend. "Will you please stop pacing? It's driving me insane!"
Ron stopped and threw his hands up in the air. He looked like he wouldn't stop pacing for long.
"Why did we send Harry to go find her anyway? We should all be looking for her."
Hermione sighed. "Ron, we already went over this. It was smarter for only Harry to go looking for her because: One," Hermione counted off the points on her fingers, "That way when she comes back to the castle, with or without Harry, we'll be here in the common room ready for her. Two - Harry is going to look for her because you need to figure out what you're going to say to her. We can't have you yelling at her. You know she won't take it well."
Ron had taken up pacing again. He was becoming increasingly frustrated. Hermione made it sound like it was impossible for him to have a normal conversation with his sister.
"You think I ever plan on yelling at her?" Or you, he added silently. "It just happens."
"Well, Ron," Hermione responded in quiet, but firm voice, "We're going to try and stop it from happening. That's the whole point. Now sit down!"
With a huff, Ron plopped down in the chair next to Hermione and crossed his arms.
"Okay," he said resignedly, "What's your brilliant plan to keep me from botching up something else?"
"No need to get all snippy about it," Hermione retorted as she flipped to the first chapter of the book that sat in her lap, "And stop feeling sorry for yourself. Here," Hermione said pointing to the chapter's title: Constructive Conversations - tactful ways to bring up personal problems in dialogue.
Ron leaned over the arm of his chair so he could see the book and rolled his eyes when he saw the title.
"How's that supposed to help?"
Hermione turned her gaze from the book to Ron. Something in his clear blue eyes told her that he didn't mean to be obstinate. He just didn't know how to handle himself in this sort of situation. He'd obviously been trying to deal with his worries for Ginny on his own for a long time now. Now that Hermione thought about it, it sounded like Ron had been in a sort of self-imposed denial about it from when school started until just recently. He'd probably hoped that the problem was just going to disapparate on its own.
I just wish he wouldn't take it out on me.
It reminded Hermione of something her mother used to say: Sometimes when a person is hurting they lash out at the ones they care most about, because they know those people will still love them in the end.
"Ron, it's got some very useful suggestions. You should really pay attention."
Ron caught the soft, pleading tone in Hermione's voice and nodded. He knew he wasn't paying attention like he should, but how was he supposed concentrate when he didn't know what the hell was going on with his sister?
Hermione was looking at him curiously now, and Ron saw a flicker of understanding in her hazel eyes. It was like she knew exactly what he was thinking. How does she know me so well?
Deciding that he should at least try and listen to what Hermione had to say, he scooted his chair closer to hers until the chairs were touching. Looking down at the book and then back up at Hermione, Ron sighed and opened his mouth.
"Okay. What does this book say?"
"Well, here it says that the most important part of these sorts of conversations is that you don't accuse the other person of anything, that instead you focus on telling the person what you're feeling."
Hermione had gone into academic mode. She was pointing out important points in the chapter and talking about how they could help a lot when it came to the upcoming conversation with Ginny. Ron was surprised that she wasn't taking notes.
He leaned closer to so he could see the book and couldn't help but notice how close he was to Hermione. Her hair almost brushed his face and she smelled like some sort of flowery shampoo. If he just tilted his head up towards hers…
"So you're supposed to use what they call 'I' messages so they don't feel like you're attacking them," Hermione continued.
Ron snapped his attention back to the words on the page. Glancing at it briefly he realized that this wasn't the same page they'd started on. What is she talking about? Ron shook his head. He was lost.
"What are these 'I' messages again?"
He braced himself for a huff and an "Honestly Ron!" but all he got was a calm explanation.
"Well, it's like you would say, 'I'm worried about you,' instead of, 'What's wrong with you?' Or at least that's how the book explains it."
Deciding that she wanted more information, Hermione started flipping through the book to find a more concrete definition or example. Her fingers flew deftly across the pages while she looked with a single-minded focus.
Ron was thinking about what Hermione said. He still wasn't sure if it would help the conversation, but he would at least try.
"Okay," Ron said simply.
Hermione looked up from the book. "Okay what?"
"Okay, I'll try these 'I' messages or whatever they are. It seems simple enough."
At Ron's assent, Hermione smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile that twinkled in her eyes and made her face look bright. Ron took a moment to take in the way his best friend looked. Her now-perfect teeth were shining and her hair looked incredibly soft. Ron wished he could reach out and touch it. And the way that her lips curved into a smile made them look very inviting. The temptation to kiss her was almost too much for Ron to bear. Suffice to say, his feelings toward Hermione at the moment were slightly more than friendly.
Ron shook those thoughts out of his head. It wouldn't do him any good to go fantasizing about Hermione when nothing could happen. He could never take a chance like that and risk losing her friendship. What if she didn't like him? It would completely wreck their easygoing, yet volatile, relationship if he were to do something as stupid as make a move on her. And on the off-chance that she did like him like he liked her, what's to stop them from getting into some huge fight and breaking up in the future? Either way he would lose her, and Ron wanted to prevent that at all costs. Even if he couldn't hug her and kiss her like he wanted to, at least she would still be around.
"Thanks Ron," Hermione said gently, "I mean, I know that you want to be out looking for Ginny, but this'll help too. I promise. I'm glad you're willing to give it a try."
"Anytime," Ron replied, "So where do we start?"
"Well, how about we start with what you're going to say when she first walks in."
********
What's taking her so bloody long? Harry thought as he waited outside the girls bathroom a good fifteen minutes later.
Walking up to the door, he put his hand on the wood and slowly pushed it open a crack.
"Ginny?"
No response.
"Ginny?" Harry spoke louder this time but still didn't receive a response.
Weighing his options carefully, he decided that he was probably going to have to go into the girl's bathroom. Not that he'd never been in a girl's bathroom before, but going into one when it didn't involve brewing illegal potions or saving someone's life seemed decidedly wrong. I wish Hermione was here. She's a girl, she's allowed to go in here.
Taking a deep breath and praying that he and Ginny were the only ones around, Harry pushed the door all the way open.
The first thing that Harry noticed was the sound of running water. Gingerly stepping inside, he looked over toward the sinks. Ginny was standing in front of one of the sinks with her hands touching the edge of the porcelain, looking in the mirror and just letting the water run.
Harry slowly started walking in Ginny's direction. She was starting to scare him.
"Ginny?"
Ginny heard Harry call her again and let out a barely restrained sigh. She had hoped that he would just leave for the common room if she kept him waiting.
No such luck.
Then, when he'd called her name earlier she had hoped that he would just leave when she didn't answer. Apparently, he didn't take the hint, because he marched right on into the girl's bathroom as though he belonged here. Why couldn't he just leave?
Ginny had been perfectly fine until she had heard the door creaking open. Or at least that's what she was trying to tell herself. The redness of her eyes and nose had almost faded and she had started to convince herself that what had just happened, hadn't really. That it was just a product of an exhausted overactive imagination. And she had decided to stay in denial like that until she made it safely back to her dormitory.
But now that bugger Harry Potter had to go and wreck a perfectly good delusion.
Ginny closed her eyes, remembering for a second just how safe she had felt within his arms. How for that split second she had allowed herself to be happy, until she'd remembered just how much she was risking for that second.
Ginny sniffled and wiped at her eyes. Great, now I'm going to look a complete mess again just after I was getting to the point of looking decent.
"Here."
Ginny had to keep herself from jumping at the sound of Harry's voice. She hadn't realized he was so close.
She looked over at the white handkerchief that Harry held out and slowly took it, careful that their fingers didn't brush.
"Um, thanks Harry," she said as she briefly glanced up into his worried eyes before looking back down at the handkerchief.
She wanted to joke around and say something like, 'So Harry, you don't seem like kind of boy to carry a handkerchief around, are you hiding any other big secrets?" but it would've been entirely inappropriate, not to mention her goal to stay as emotionally detached from him as possible.
She looked at the handkerchief in her hand. If it weren't for extenuating circumstances, this would've been an exceedingly sweet gesture that she would lock away in her mind with all of her other memories of Harry. Instead, Ginny was doing her best to look at this as just a silly piece of fabric lent by a boy who doesn't like her, won't talk to her again after today, and just didn't want to be walking down the hall with a girl who looked a mess.
It seemed to be working until Ginny turned the handkerchief over and saw the small cursive letters L.E. embroidered into one of the corners. Lily Evans.
"Harry?" she questioned as she looked at him with wide eyes.
She thought she saw a flash of pain in his eyes as he looked at the piece of white fabric in her hands. When he looked up it was gone.
"Don't worry about using it or anything," he said lightly, "It has a self cleaning charm on it."
He was avoiding the question. He had to know what question she'd asked even if she hadn't said it out loud. He wasn't even looking her in the eyes.
"Works rather well too, even gets blood off," Harry said, forcing a laugh.
"Blood?" Ginny felt rather faint. Harry lending her something of his mother's was one thing, but just the thought of him and blood…
"Like skinned knees and stuff. It's just, I'm rather accident prone."
Ginny thought of all the times that Harry had been to see Madame Pomfrey and couldn't help thinking that it wasn't being accident prone that had caused most of those trips to the infirmary.
Looking at the boy who had kept her worried more in her life than she had ever needed or wanted to be, she realized that he was looking rather nervous and fidgety. Feeling somewhat guilty that she'd basically been letting him perform a monologue, she opened her mouth to say something when he beat her too it.
"Listen, er, just keep it okay," he said suddenly.
Keep it?
Ginny waved the white in front of him.
"But Harry! It's your mu-"
"I'm going back to the common room," he said cutting her off.
Ginny opened her mouth again.
"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said sharply.
Ginny, taken aback by Harry's tone of voice, shut her mouth and took a step back.
"I mean," he gave a great sigh and looked at Ginny. His emerald eyes were hoping for forgiveness. "Look, I don't give things to people unless I mean it, so just…if you feel weird about it let's just say that you're keeping track of it for me until further notice."
Ginny was giving him a questioning look that was making him exceedingly nervous. He didn't even know why he was currently offering to give his mum's old handkerchief to her. He hadn't let it out of his sight since he found it in the Dursley's attic over the summer. Why had he just tried to give it to Ginny? She probably wouldn't even want it anyway. He was just being stupid.
Harry was about to take back the offer when Ginny looked him right in the eyes. Looking right in other people's eyes often made Harry slightly uncomfortable, but he didn't feel uncomfortable looking into Ginny's chocolate brown ones. Maybe it was because of those glints of gold that sparkled in her irises or the question in her eyes that he wanted more than anything to help her answer. Or maybe it was because somehow, by looking in her eyes, he felt like Ginny might be the type of girl who could really understand him. And with a little luck, he might be able to understand her.
"I'll hold onto it for you," Ginny said quietly with an unsure look on her face as though she were worried she'd just made some kind of mistake.
"Okay," Harry said as an involuntary smile slid into place on his face. "Let's head back to the common room."
Ginny just nodded and the two started walking. When they got to the bathroom door Harry held it open for her and made some sort of joke about not wanting to get caught in the girl's loo and odds being against him. She let out a hollow, forced sort of laugh and they continued walking down the corridor in silence. Ginny was in her own world again. Pondering the possible consequences of what she had just done.
Harry, in turn, was thinking about Ginny. He was thinking about why he had given her one of the few things of his mother's that he had, wondering what was going on with her, and trying to understand how one person could show such range and depth of emotion in such a brief period of time. He wondered what she was thinking about. She was obviously deep in thought. He wasn't even sure if she heard his weak joke or just laughed out of habit. It wasn't her real laugh, that was sure. He'd heard that earlier today and wasn't about to forget it.
They'd almost reached the portrait hole when Ginny tugged on Harry's arm, causing him to turn and face her.
"Harry," she started soft but intense, "I wanted to say…that is."
She looked down at where she was nervously clasping and unclasping her hands and then looked back up at Harry who was wondering where all this was going.
"I understand how sometimes you don't want to, or don't feel ready to talk about things."
This was about how he'd snapped at her in the bathroom? He thought that had been settled.
"Well," she continued, "Then you'd understand better than anyone when someone can't talk about certain things to someone else."
What was she talking about?
"And you'd agree that in those situations that people shouldn't be pushed to talk about certain things, right?"
Her expression looked almost hopeful.
"Yes, I suppose I'd agree," Harry replied hesitantly.
"Then Harry, if I promise never to push you, will you promise me the same thing?"
It seemed like a fair deal. He hated when people pushed him to talk about things that he didn't want to talk about and he could understand how Ginny wouldn't like it either. Come to think about it, it would be nice to have a friend who wouldn't push about things. Ron and Hermione usually didn't, but there were times, especially since the end of last term…
Something was nagging at the back of Harry's memory trying to tell him that this might not be the best idea. However, it was a little hard to think about that when Ginny, with her gleaming red hair and her warm eyes and her insecure smile, was looking up at him like he was the answer to all her problems.
"Harry?" Ginny nudged him with her voice.
The nagging feeling was growing stronger, but Harry was ignoring it the best he could. What could go wrong? Taking a deep breath he look Ginny right in the eyes. They fairly sparkled in the lamplight. Harry almost lost himself in her gaze, before remembering that she was waiting for an answer. He brought one hand up to touch the side of her arm and used his other hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face before settling it on her shoulder.
"Ginny," he said seriously, "I promise."
Ginny smiled up at him sweetly and murmured a quiet thanks. Harry dropped his hands and smiled in return.
They walked the a few more steps to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower.
"Chudley Cannons."
As soon as Harry spoke, the portrait door swung open. How Ron had convinced Hermione that they should use that as a password entirely baffled him. He still remembered the look on Ron's face when he'd first said the password to get into the tower. Harry didn't think it was humanly possible for Ron's smile to get any larger. But then they'd run into Hermione in the common room two minutes later and Ron somehow managed to widen his grin.
Harry liked it when his best friend smiled. It was much preferred to the look he'd been carting lately what with Ginny and -
Ginny.
As he turned to look at her, voices flashed through his head.
"Ginny, are you ok?"
"I'm fine."
The conversation in front of the fire.
"You're right about Ginny, something's up."
Ron, after quidditch practice.
"It's in her eyes…She's trying to hide something."
His own voice echoing in his head.
"Don't you think I'm scared to death that it's going to be like second year all over again and that I won't be able to help her this time?"
Ron's intense whisper in the Great Hall.
"We'll just have to try and convince her to tell us."
Weasley Plan A.
"Harry, you go find Ginny while Ron and I figure out what to say to her. I think she'll probably be outside."
Hermione, fifteen minutes ago in the common room, where she and Ron were now planning how to force Ginny to talk about what was going on with her. Harry was leading her to an interrogation.
"Harry, if I promise never to push you, will you promise me the same thing?"
"Ginny, I promise."
He was leading her to an interrogation, moments after he had promised not to push her to talk.
And as the portrait door closed behind them, the Fat Lady heard Harry mutter something that sounded suspiciously profane.
*********