The penultimate chapter! (Finally, the end is in sight!) It's a bit longer than usual this time. Hope it satisfies! ; ) The usual apologies for typos &tc apply. It just seems so awkward to get a beta at this stage in the game...
10. Under the Table
The morning of the Hogsmeade weekend dawned just as predicted, sunny and warm. It was warm enough to make snowbanks melt into slush around the edges, but luckily enough to make the walk down to the village uncomfortably muddy.. Ginny had gladly left her usual thick layers and industrial-strength warming charms behind in favor of a red sweater and hat. A very fetching red sweater and hat if she did say so herself (and she did), a fact which hopefully would not escape Hermione's notice.
Ginny had spent the greater part of the previous night trying her best not to run up to Hermione's room, and credited the distraction of outfit-picking-out with her success in that endeavor. She had needed something that looked nice, obviously, but not too nice; she didn't want to look like she placed any actual importance on things like clothes that were, in the scheme of things, pretty trivial. But obsessing about trivial things had the convenient effect of keeping her from obsessing about less trivial things, like what if Hermione had just been experimenting and after she slept on it she'd decide that Ginny wasn't really her thing after all? It wasn't outside the realm of possibility, after all, and they hadn't talked about it. Ginny didn't know.
It was driving her mad. She'd been walking next to Hermione for the past ten minutes, in relative solitude since Harry and Ron were walking together ahead of them, and she still hadn't worked up the nerve to broach the subject. It was almost better to just wonder and hope, but it wasn't, and it was driving Ginny absolutely up the wall.
It was getting ridiculous, and Ginny knew it. Ok, I'll say something as soon as we pass that tree...
They passed the tree.
Ginny kept silent. Hermione had been talking; Ginny didn't want to interrupt... But this was important! Fine, as soon as we pass that knobbly rock there I'll say something, even if she's still talking...
Ginny had nearly worked herself up to speak, honestly she had, when Hermione spoke first.
"I found your note." Hermione leaned a bit closer. Ginny instinctively mirrored her motion.
"You did?" Ginny's voice squeaked slightly. That note. Yes. That was one way to bring up the subject, all right. "What... erm... what did you think?" Ginny could have kicked herself. Yes, yet another brilliantly seductive line, courtesy of Ginny Weasley! Guaranteed to knock them off their feet!
"You... you don't regret leaving it for me, do you? It must have been a while ago..." Hermione chewed on her lip.
"What? No, absolutely not, I do not regret it at all." Ginny's heart was racing in her chest. Now there was no absolutely doubt that Hermione knew about her feelings. Not even the tiniest shred of a doubt to hold on to and carefully cultivate against future disappointment – it was all or nothing now. The idea was as scary as it was exhilarating.
"So you really mean it?"
Ginny nodded. It was as true now as it was then – though if she could do it again now, she might not tell Hermione she loved her in a note in a book. It had just seemed so hard not to do then.
There was still something a bit unsure in Hermione's eyes, so Ginny said it out loud. "I do mean it. I totally love you. Or at least really really strongly fancy you, but it's probably the same thing. And I wasn't trying to get you to say it back or anything, I just wanted to... say it. So you knew."
"Oh," was all Hermione said, but she was smiling.
"You -" Ginny started, but a clod of snow hit Ginny on the shoulder, and she looked up to see her brother and Harry already skipping out of range.
Ginny scooped up a handful of slush – laced with a fair bit of mud; this was no time to be delicate – and lobbed it viciously in their direction, hitting Harry on the knee.
"AndIthinkyou'rereallyhot," she whispered recklessly in Hermione's ear before bending to make another snowball.
"Oi!" Ron yelled. Ginny saw something white fly past out of the corner of her eye.
Hermione ducked the next missile and pulled Ginny down with her. "I think you're really hot too," she said, her eyes dancing.
Ginny's grin was the kind that could split your face in two if you weren't careful. Ginny wasn't in a very careful mood right now. She was about to say something else, or perhaps move on to a more physical demonstration of just how much she fancied Hermione, but then the boys were upon them and there was no time.
Their sedate walk down to the village quickly devolved into a full-blown snow fight, culminating in a mad race to get to the pub before Hermione made good her threat of pushing snow down everyone's necks if they didn't stop behaving like utter children. Yes, they had been interrupted again, but Ginny couldn't stop grinning. Hermione knew. And she didn't hate Ginny for it, and she thought she was hot too, and she had kissed her last night, and everything was more or less perfect.
They reached the Three Broomsticks in a haze of laughter and numb hands and melting snow and quickly took over the nearest vacant table.
After a bit of jostling as dripping outer garments were removed and hung gingerly on chair backs Ginny found herself sitting next to Harry, inevitably as far away from Hermione as the cramped table would allow. Figures. And just when we were getting somewhere, too. Ginny scowled at Ron, wishing she had his seat next to Hermione – or better, that she and Hermione were alone in the room and able to actually talk about things. Or they could skip straight to the not talking part; Ginny was flexible like that.
Ginny was on the verge of doing something unfortunate like getting up and dragging Hermione out of the crowded pub, or perhaps just launching herself across the table and snogging her in front of everyone, when Rosmerta arrived with their usual round of Butterbeers. This set off Ron's usual round of desperate flirting with her, and Ginny caught Hermione's glance and rolled her eyes. Boys. Admittedly, Rosmerta did have a passable bosom, but it was nowhere near as fantastic as Hermione's, for example. Though come to think of it, she would much rather Ron notice Rosmerta's womanly assets than Hermoine's. If only he didn't have to do it where she had to see him at it...
Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh, Ginny, what do you think of Gryffindor's chances at winning the cup?"
"Huh? Um, pretty good I guess." The last thing on Ginny's mind right now was Quidditch. Honestly. Boys.
"Yeah, me too. I mean, the chances. I think the chances are pretty good. Too."
Ginny regarded Harry askance. Since when had boys lost the ability to even speak? Then she caught Hermione's eye across the table. The other girl was laughing silently into her hand, and it suddenly dawned on Ginny that the with the way the four of them were sitting, it looked suspiciously like a double date, and suddenly Harry's inability to articulate himself started to make dreadful sense. Did that mean that Harry thought...? But no, it couldn't be. She had never done anything to encourage him – sure, she had had a crush on him, but that was when she was ten. All girls had a crush on Harry Potter when they were ten.
"We still have to play against Ravenclaw, but their next game's against Slytherin, whose beaters..."
Harry was still talking about Quidditch. Ginny smiled and nodded and tried not to look interested in that way. If only Hermione would look her way again. She appeared to be having an actual conversation with Ron – shall the wonders never cease? - and it was as if Ginny didn't even exist.
Who was he for her to pay so much attention to? Ron never made Hermione tea, or left her love notes in her textbooks, or snogged her in girls bathrooms... A small part of Ginny's mind told her that she was being irrational; Ron and Hermione had been friends for years and were allowed to talk to each other if they wanted. But a larger part of her just wanted Hermione to stop paying attention to him – what were they talking about anyway, Professor Sprout? Pointless – and pay attention to Ginny.
Look at me look at me look at me, Ginny chanted silently in her head, fixing Hermione in a tractor-beam gaze and barely even registering Harry's continued nervous rambling. Hermione was singularly unaffected by Ginny's feat of concentration. Ginny upped her mental volume.
"But the Slytherins do have one good chaser, at least, so..."
Ginny flashed Harry a pained smile and tuned him out. Look at me look at me come on look...
Just then, Ginny felt something bump against her ankle. Had Hermione just...? But no, she was still absorbed in her dissection of Professor Sprout's character with Ron. Would Harry? Ginny glanced at him, but he didn't seem to have noticed anything. And then it happened again, only this time Ginny was sure it was a foot, and it didn't bump so much as rub up against her ankle slowly before retreating again.
This time Ginny thought she had seen Hermione shift slightly in her seat, but she couldn't be sure. Narrowing her eyes, she waited for the foot to intrude into her space again – there – and she followed it back to its owner, stretching her leg awkwardly under the table to avoid moving and giving herself away. And yes, it was definitely Hermione's foot. Well, unless Harry had recently acquired a detachable leg and was using it to play footsie with her from Hermione's side of the table, a situation Ginny found unlikely at best.
"And the, uh, Hufflepuff team isn't doing too badly this year either, so we can't forget to watch out for any surprise wins from them..."
"Mmhmmm," Ginny said, finally gracing Harry with a verbal reply. Under the table, she silently worked one foot free of her winter boot and sought out Hermione. Ginny's toes collided with her shin – she could tell it was Hermione's because Ron didn't flinch, nor was he wearing a skirt with knee socks today – and Ginny daringly caught the hem of a sock with her toes and began to work it down. After that, the conversation passed much more pleasantly, although if Ginny had actually been trying to pay attention she would have found it most difficult indeed.
Ginny tried to catch Hermione's eye again a few times, but the other girl resolutely showed no sign that she was aware of her lower limbs' actions. She didn't even look up when Ginny, in another precariously balanced stretch, found the hollow at the back of her folded knee with the tips of her toes and managed some approximation of a caress.
Hermione didlean into the touch, though, and, not caring if the boys saw her grinning like an idiot, Ginny repeated the action. She couldn't believe that Hermione was letting her do these things to her. She was now more in favor than ever of skipping the talking stage altogether and going straight for the table-snogging in middle of crowded pub stage. Oh lord. Hermione's foot crept up under the edge of Ginny's pants leg and she shivered in pleasure. Right now. They needed to skip to the snogging right now.
Completely oblivious to the conversation at this point, Ginny shifted to facilitate further pants-leg explorations on Hermione's part. Several things happened at once. Ginny felt Hermione's foot slip to the floor, dislodged by Ginny's sudden movement, and then it was gone. A moment later, Harry – whose leg had evidently been closer to Ginny's than she thought – jumped about a foot into the air, blanched, and then shot a truly murderous look at Ron..
Ginny met Hermione's eyes across the table to see an equally surprised expression painted on her face. What the fuck just happened? In his corner, Harry was now silently seething while feigning a rapt interest in his bottle, and as for Ron, Ginny didn't think she had ever even seen that expression on his face before. She had the feeling she should feel concerned, but she couldn't help the triumphant spark that bubbled up. She finally looked at me! Yes yes yes! Granted, it wasn't because of anything Ginny had done per se, but she could live with the compromise. She mostly succeeded at not grinning inappropriately.
After that, a tense silence fell over the table, one that resisted Ron's feeble attempts change the subject and Ginny's feeble attempts to actually stop tractor-beaming Hermione long enough to talk to him. A few disconnected phrases involving Professor Sprout and the Ravenclaw beater were thrown around, but Ron was talking mostly to himself.
Ginny finally succeeded in catching Hermione's eye again, and looked pointedly toward the door. We have to get out of here now, it said. Hermione nodded imperceptibly, and Ginny started thinking in earnest of ways to make a graceful exit.