Written In The Body
Poetheather
A/N: Okay people, happy reading and see you in a week.
JKR makes all the monies from this, not me.
Sixteen
In less than two weeks it would be time to head back to King's Cross station and get back on the train to return to Hogwarts and Hermione was busy with her pre-school studying. She had also not heard anything from Ginny recently, which was worrying her, but she had heard from Harry, receiving the Marauders Map along with a nice letter. That had caught her up on how things were going with him and how he was thinking of trying the Auror training that Minister Shacklebolt was offering those who had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. The map was a nice gift and she was already familiar with its workings so it was going to be quite useful for her last year up at Hogwarts. She had some plans for it and was hoping to learn more about it so she could try to modify it for her use. As for the news that he was going to train as an Auror… that worried her some. She was sure he was still dealing with some issues from the last several years just like she was and she really did not want him to push himself too hard. She was worried about him. Plus she had the selfish reason of wanting him to be able to come up to the school for her birthday.
She had even heard from Ron who had again apologized for being a prat and was sorry that he had upset her. He laid everything out in that letter and there were a lot of scratched out words, misspellings and signs that Ron had gotten frustrated which meant that this had really meant something to Ron. The only way he would have written that much and gotten that frustrated was if he had actually cared about what he was writing about. Just seeing those mistakes, even before she read anything made her feel better about things. Opening a dialogue with him might not be a bad thing as she did miss him, since he was a great friend. Despite everything she did love him, just wasn't in love with him. She hoped that when she finally was able to tell him everything that he would be able to understand the distinction.
Perdita was currently sharing a tree in the backyard with the owl that she had bought her parents a few days ago on a quick trip to the Alley for just that purpose. It was a smaller owl than her own, similar in size to Errol but seemingly far more stable and healthy looking. He also seemed to be a lot smarter. Her mother's response to having her own owl was great as she thought he was cute and decided after a few moments appraisal that he needed to be named Cuspid for some reason. Her father only looked appraisingly at the bird and nodded in acceptance, as if he would really argue with her mother. Hermione face palmed over that and had to shake her head in despair. Only her parents would name a ruddy owl after a tooth. Sometimes they took dentistry too far.
But now here she was, sitting up in her bedroom, unable to focus on any of her school reading or any other reading for that matter, trying to summon her Gryffindor courage and do what she had needed to do for a while now, tell her parents. Her stomach was twisting in knots and her heart was pounding and this whole thing was making her a little nauseated. She needed to do this; she knew that, however, she had no idea how to go about starting that conversation. The possibilities scared her, ramping up her anxiety over the whole thing. She gave up on her pre-review of Transfigurations and set the book down on her bedside table, wiping her slightly sweaty palms on her blanket. Resting her hands on her forehead she groaned, feeling the muscles of her back tighten with worry. Between wanting to tell Ginny how she felt about her and needing to let her parents know that she was a lesbian, she just wanted to just lock herself in her room and never come out. She knew all the spells to do just that and if she sent her Patronus she was sure that Harry could bring her food on a regular basis.
She looked over at the clock on her nightstand and realized that there was still a little bit of time before dinner giving her an opening to do this. Sure it might not be the perfect time but she knew she couldn't do it afterwards as the odds were highly in favor of her losing whatever food she had in her stomach if she did that. No it was better that she did this before eating. She looked down at her left forearm, her eyes rolling over the letters carved into her flesh. The letters were not simply thin lines as most blade cuts were but a bit wider, making the whole thing more visible and raw looking, even now after months of healing. It was almost as if the words were carved into her rather than cut. With a deep breath in she lifted her hand and traced the letters slowly, drawing strength from them, from what they now represented to her. This mark of ugliness and hate was now her talisman and thanks to it she now had the strength to do anything, to be anything so long as she had the courage to move forward. With a nod she turned her face from the letters and made up her mind. If she wanted to get this done she had better do this now while her courage was rising.
Hermione rolled to her feet and closed her eyes, centering herself. This was not too much for her. She could do this. She had faced harder challenges and overcome them. There was nothing about this that was insurmountable. Despite the lightheadedness that her rapid heartbeat was giving her, she left her room, muttering to herself a repetitive mantra, "I can do this."
Her parents were sitting in the living room, as they were want to do, both reading as usual, her mother occasionally glancing at a kitchen timer. When she made a slight sound her mother looked up at her and saw the look of determination on her face as she moved resolutely towards them. With a slight start, she asked with some concern, "Hermione?"
"Mum, Dad… I… I need to talk to you. It's important." She kept herself focused on the task at hand as she wanted to make sure she didn't flee, like she had every other time she had tried to talk to her parents about the important things in her life. At no other time in her life had she actually broached the topics of the troll, the basilisk, Voldemort and many other issues that might have lead her parents to pulling her out of Hogwarts like sane parents just might do out of concern for their daughter. Despite this topic being less apocalyptic, it was no less important. She sat on the couch, close to her usual spot on the opposite end from her mother, trying to avoid curling in defensively before anything had actually happened.
Her father closed and put down his book, the new Jeffery Archer novel that had just come out last month. He took a look at her, noting her distress and asked worriedly, "Is everything alright Hermione? You look like you are ready to bolt or scream or something."
"Yes… no… I'm not sure yet." Hermione sounded a touch flustered and it showed in the way her right hand kept clenching and unclenching slowly as an unconscious reflex.
Her mother moved from her usual spot on the couch, where she was leaning against an armrest, to sit alongside her daughter. "Just take a deep breath Hermione and tell us what you need to tell us. You know that you can talk to us about anything, especially now."
Doing as she had been asked, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, the air pushing out audibly, allowed Hermione to calm her nerves ever so slightly, getting her heart to slow just a little bit, so it no longer felt like it was in her throat. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, looking right at her mother, and her right hand brushed across her left forearm. "Mom, dad… I have been trying to find some way to say this, to better explain things so you could understand where I am coming from but I can't figure one out which is very frustrating. So I guess I'm just going to say it and that's that which is rather suboptimal. Mum, Dad… I'm… I'm a lesbian."
Her parents looked at her for a few moments with no real emotion on their faces, and the dragged out silence was making her nerves go crazy. They hated her, they had to. That's why they weren't saying anything. That's why there was all this silence. This was it, her father was going to throw her out of the house and her life would be ruined. What was she going to do now? Her father looked at her with a hard to read expression on his face and asked in a difficult to understand tone, "Has this been going on long?"
Before she could answer her mother turned and smacked her father on the leg lightly. "Stop that. You know that wasn't fair. This took a lot of courage for her to tell us and we should be proud of her. There is no cause for you to tease her like that."
He smiled at his wife and then over at Hermione, "Sorry love. I didn't mean to upset you. You were saying?"
Hermione was at a bit of a loss at that moment as to how she should proceed. What was going on? She had just said… and then her father… but what? None of this was really making any sense. Her mother put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close and said, "Would it help any if we told you that we have had our suspicions about this for a while now?"
Hermione snapped back out of her mother's arms and stared at her in surprise, then turning towards her father who was smiling at her gently and nodding his head in affirmation. She turned her head back and forth between them a few times, her mind a blank, before she finally found her voice and asked, "How? I mean… just how? I only just figured this all out a little while ago myself. How did you two already know?"
"Oh, really? You just realized it? We thought that you had known this for at least a few months, if not longer. We had suspicions last summer if you must know. And well, your father and I have been watching you your whole life, paying attention to things because you are our daughter and we love you. We always noticed that there was just a… way about you that was slightly different and not like the other girls, and we don't mean the you being smarter than all of them or your magic. We thought you may have grown out of it when you went to Hogwarts but then on our trips we noticed how your eyes wandered and some of the looks you gave women, especially after your fourth year. Your gaze sort of… well, I guess the best word to use would be lingered." said her mother, taking one of Hermione's hands, squeezing it comfortingly.
Hermione blushed and covered her face with her hands, as realization set in. Her memory tracked back to the summer trip her family had taken between her fourth and fifth year and things they had said began to fall into place with mortification beginning to take hold. "Oh no, no, please don't tell me you are talking about that Danish girl."
"Oh yes, that Danish girl." Her father chuckled at that, clearly amused by that memory. "Really Hermione, you couldn't take your eyes off her which was one level of amusing but then you couldn't actually talk to her either. The few times you tried you were so tongue tied that it was almost painful to watch. You were normally so confident and well-spoken and then then you got around her and you just fell apart. And I honestly don't know how, probably more of that accidental magic, but neither the girl nor her family seemed to have noticed your attention; either that or they were being very polite to you. And when she took her top off, I thought you were going to die. Your face went so red."
"Well… uhm… she… she actually sort of reminded me of someone I had met at school that year. Someone that I can now admit that I found rather attractive." admitted Hermione, quite embarrassed. Why was she telling her parents this? It was all so mortifying.
"Who?" asked her mom.
Hermione was silent for a moment, trying to decide if she wanted to say anything or not in response. She bit her bottom lip as she mused this point and when she finally came to a decision she whispered out the name, "Fleur."
"Fleur? Fleur? Wait, we know that name. Hold on… you mean Fleur as in Fleur Weasley? Bill's wife?" Her father was quite shocked by that revelation, his eyes widening in surprise.
The blush deepened and it felt like her face was on fire. She felt like she was a Second year again with her first crush, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "Well, the two of them weren't married at that point. She met Bill right before the Third task if I remember correctly, when the Weasleys came to visit Harry. So there clearly was no problem with that."
"Right sorry. Clearly no problem at all. Not what we're here to talk about though. And now that you mention it, I guess I can see the resemblance, though Fleur is more attractive." Her father snickered.
"Daddy!" Hermione was scandalized by what her father had just said and was aghast.
Her father looked over at her with a cheeky grin and it faded as he noticed the look his wife was giving him. He seemed a bit sheepish as he turned to face his wife and said quite contritely, "Sorry dear. But yes, we… uh… we had previously noticed that you were attracted to girls."
Her mother held one of her hands and tightened her grip, to show how she felt about her, trying to reassure her daughter. It seemed to be helping. "When it seemed like you were going to be starting to date that Ron Weasley boy we were a bit concerned because of how your letters often mentioned the fights you two had and the making up, as well as how you two did not to seem to have much if anything in common. That really did worry us as we just want you to be happy, like we are. And before we could really talk about it with you, letting you know of our concerns, we woke up in Australia a year later."
Hermione turned and hugged her mother, her emotions ramping up even more as her worry kept going up. She knew what she had done to them was not a good thing but it had been a desperate act in an attempt to save her parents' lives. She had been willing to lose them from anger over losing them permanently. That did not make it hurt any less or make her feel less guilty. "I am so sorry."
"Hush sweetie, it's okay Hermione. It all worked out in the end. You made it through that insane war alive and got us back. We all survived. Our house survived. We are still a family. At the end of the day, what more could we want? Now, at this point I think all your father and I really want for you is for our only daughter to be happy, to be with whoever it is that will make you smile." Her mother moved a strand of hair that had fallen into Hermione's face back behind an ear, tucking it into place. She ran her hand down her daughter's hair, smoothing it out some, looking at her lovingly.
"So you both don't have a problem with me being a lesbian?" Hermione had trouble believing this as she had fully expected there to be some sort of trouble. She was unaware of how much shakiness was in her voice and how much desperate hope she was conveying.
"Not at all." said her father, the warm smile that had become usual this summer on his face, cheering her heart. "But you do know that I still reserve the right to grill any potential girlfriends as is my ancient paternal right."
Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Her father was so convinced that he was funny despite so much evidence to the contrary. She felt so much better, like a huge weight had been lifted off her. There was only one more problem for her to face and she was hoping that she could do that, that she could actually manage to do that as well. If she were lucky it would be as easy as this had been. She sighed in release, tension flowing out of her, and lowered her head. Sometimes trying to be herself and trying to forge her own path was so hard, hurt so much. Was that the cost of her determination? Was that what her discovery about herself on the floor of Malfoy Manor going to take, constant struggling against forces arrayed against her? So be it.
This discovery of her sexuality was so liberating and so terrifying at the same time that she was not sure how to deal with it at times. Her emotions were all over the place as she was dealing with all these newly freed urges and just understood worries. She could feel her mother begin to rub her back and she made appreciative sounds in the back of her throat, arching into it a little like a cat. With a slight lean into her mother she stayed there, enjoying the closeness. Losing this was what she had been so afraid of and that it seemed like that wouldn't happen really buoyed her heart. It made everything easier to deal with.
Her mother's hand stilled after a few moments, resting in the small in of her back, warm and comforting. Her voice was soft and gentle as she asked, "So, when are you going to tell Ginny about all of this?"
Hermione jerked upright, eyes wide in fright and near panic, turning to face her mother, color draining from her face. How had her parents figured that out? She had been so careful, trying to make sure to act in a manner to hide her feelings from others. Oh Merlin, if they had figured it out despite all she had done then did that mean that Ginny had figured it out as well? Ginny was very smart so she would be able to figure these things out with little effort. What was she going to do? All because of this she was positive that Ginny would never talk to her. It was all over. Her friendship was over. One of the most important relationships in her life was doomed. How could anything ever be right between them again? Tears began to well up in her eyes and she started to cry, her lower lip quivering.
Her mother, noting her renewed distress, took Hermione into her arms again and pulled her close, rubbing her back some more, occasionally running a hand down her hair. Hermione was so lost to the wheel of her thoughts that she did not hear the sound of her father getting up and leaving the room. Her mother tried to soothe her some more, whispering into her ear, "It will be okay Hermione. It will. It really will. Come on baby, relax and talk to me. It'll be okay."
"How Mum? How? If you figured it out then in all probability she did as well. She probably hates me because of this. Hates me. Oh no… no… that's probably why I haven't anything from her. She's disgusted with me. She doesn't want to talk to me again." moaned Hermione, tears slowly trickling down one side of her face as despair enveloped her.
"Now why would you say that? That just doesn't make any sense. Hermione, Ginny doesn't hate you… on the contrary, she really likes you. Anyone can tell that if they just pay attention to the both of you for a few minutes." protested her mother, trying to get through to her distraught daughter.
Throwing her hands in the air in frustration, Hermione growled out, "There you go again with the really likes. Really likes. That's what got me into this whole mess in the first place."
Her mother looked at her in confusion, since things clearly did not add up. "I don't follow."
With a heavy sigh Hermione explained the whole process of how she had come to realize her attraction to girls and to Ginny in particular, making sure that her mother knew her pivotal part in the whole process. As she got to the end of the story she was still sniffling, a few more tears having fallen over the course of the story. She ended up saying accusingly, "And so there you go again, with really likes. Honestly, how do you know?"
Her mother hugged her close again, trying to calm her down some more, partially succeeding. "Before I go into that, why don't we have a little spot of tea? That will help you relax some and then we can continue. I don't want you to be upset while you don't have to."
Hermione nodded trying to understand what she was saying even though it did not feel true and then she noticed her father standing off to the side with the tea service waiting. She smiled up at him weakly. "Thank you Dad."
"You're more than welcome Hermione. Now let's all have our tea so we can regroup and then we can get back to the conversation properly refreshed." He set down the tray on the coffee table. There was a full set and even a few of the tasty jam biscuits that she liked. Her mother poured her a cup of tea and handed it over.
Once she sniffed it, breathing in the warm herbal aroma, she smiled. This particular cup was a good blend for helping deal with stress and needing to reconnect to her center. She had to admit that she was certainly dealing with that issue right now as this whole situation was pulling her in several different directions. She put a little honey and lemon into her tea and stirred, wanting to ensure that they were well mixed. Lifting the cup, she breathed in the fragrance and sighed, her eyes closing due to the sensual nature of the action. This simple and familiar act was helping her relax after all of the confusion this conversation had already had caused. In so many ways she wanted to go upstairs and collapse for a while but this was not really over just yet so she had to see it through to the end.
She did not rush through her cup, taking the time to enjoy the warm beverage and allowed the flavor help soothe her frayed nerves. It worked to a degree and for that she was grateful. There was a part of her that wished it could have done more but at this point she would take what she could get. She was still fairly confused about all of this but this pause was making a number of things easier to deal with. When her tea was all drunk, she set down her cup, her hands still a bit shaky and sighed, letting even more of the tension coiled in her body out. Locking eyes with her mother she asked, "So you were saying about Ginny?"
"Well, one of the things that your father and I noted was that the two of you were very close. And the two of you only seemed to grow closer as the summer progressed. What's more, after Harry's party, we noted that something changed with Ginny as well and from what we could tell she seemed to be looking at you slightly differently when you weren't looking at her. It was obvious to us that she was more worried about you noticing her watching than us noticing her doing that." relayed her mother, her smile teasing the corners of her mouth.
Hermione's eyes widened as she tried to fit those pieces of information into any sort of pattern that made sense. There was something there but all of this and the maelstrom of emotions she was going through was making her thinking muddled and it was difficult to track things as she normally would. "Oh."
"Yes, oh. Honestly, we did not have a problem with the two of you sharing a bed because, you are practically an adult and since you had not come out to us, we did not think there was a particular reason to separate you. We figured that if there was something more between you that you would tell us. Is there?" Her mother raised an eyebrow in question.
Hermione blushed, clearly understanding all the other questions tied into that one that were unasked and she shifted somewhat uncomfortably before she answered, "No Mum, there is nothing between us, not yet, but I… I hope there might be something at some point." An attempt at a smile faltered on her face. "But Mum, you also need to know that while we haven't done anything like that, Ginny has been really helpful in keeping me from having too many nightmares."
"I was wondering why we weren't hearing anything from you while she was staying over. I assumed you also used spells on your room to keep us from hearing anything?" Her mother again raised an eyebrow in question, her eyes piercing Hermione's. It was not an approving look.
She swallowed heavily and nodded, looking down at her hands feeling abashed. That had not necessarily the best choice she had made lately but there had been reasons behind it. It had not just been a frivolous choice done at the spur of the moment. "I know and I'm sorry for that however my thinking was that since I had someone there with me in case I needed anything, I wanted to give you both a break. You and dad have been wonderful with the way you have taken care of me. I know it can't be easy having an adult daughter wake up screaming a lot of the time thanks to a nightmare, sometimes a couple of times a night."
"No it's not, but if I could handle you doing that when you were a baby when you were waking us for no discernible reason or you were waking us up for water or another story or to check your room for monsters than I think we can handle our daughter going through this, something that is not your fault. You're our baby Hermione, no matter how old you get, you will always be our baby, so we want what is best for you. Just because you are having nightmares because of what you have gone through is no reason for us to be grumpy with you." Her mother reached out, ran a hand down her hair and the side of her face, to cup Hermione's cheek, lifting her daughter's head so that she could look her in the face, catching her brown eyes. "Now, you said Ginny helps you with your nightmares?"
With a blush at what her mother said as well as just how Ginny helped her with her nightmares, Hermione nodded, trying not to think on it in too much detail. "Yes, she really does. All she really does Mum is hold me and make me feel safe and comforted. When I am in her arms I am able to relax faster and fall back asleep faster, two things that generally elude me, even with the help of potions. I don't know why that is but I do."
"And let me guess you wake up happy and contented in her arms? Just being there makes you feel better, as if all is right in the world, as if there is no better place for you to be?" asked her mother with a knowing smile, reminding Hermione a great deal of Luna and the way she looked at her when the girl knew something Hermione didn't.
Hermione looked at her mother in surprise, blinking a few times trying to process this. She had nailed that feeling exactly. She knew that she had gotten a lot of her brains from her mother, granted not all, but even still this seemed like an even more impressive display of intuition than usual definitely on par with some of Luna's statements. It was times like these that she wished that she better understood emotions and the like. She was pretty good but this eluded her. "Yes that is exactly how I feel. That is how I feel every time I wake up in her arms. How did you know? Do you know why you would have that feeling as well?"
Her mother smiled tenderly at her, gazing at her daughter affectionately, "I know because I have been there myself. And as for the why… well, I'm not exactly sure but my guess is that it's probably because you love her."
Hermione snapped her eyes upward, shock on her face, mouth wide open. Her mind seized a little trying to make sense of what she had just heard. Her mother laughed a little at that, seeing the disbelief on her daughter's face. "Honestly Hermione, we may be old but we aren't blind. You are clearly more than a little smitten with the girl. Surely you have noticed. So of course you would feel safer in the arms of the girl you love."
That was simply too much for Hermione and she broke down, the pent up emotions and frustrations from the past several months exploding out of her and crashing back down upon her, burying her under their weight, the scaffolding she had used to shore up her badly wounded heart shattering into kindling. She collapsed into her mother's arms weeping, sobs breaking her attempts to breathe easy, shaking her chest. Her mother pulled her close and started saying comfortingly, "Come now baby, it'll be okay. Love is a good and happy thing."
Hermione's voice as she spoke was small and tiny, more the voice of a little girl than the young woman who had battled against terrorists and monsters, "How Mummy? How? I'm so scared. What… what if Ginny says she doesn't care for me? What if she doesn't… doesn't love me back? Oh Mummy!"
Hermione just shook, sobs wracking her body. With a half collapse, she dropped into her mother's lap, curling up into herself. Her mother looked down at her daughter worriedly and then up at her husband mouthing something. She then focused on brushing her daughter's hair with her fingers, saying soft gentle words over and over to try and stem the tide of weeping and grief that tore through her child.
Hermione was in turmoil. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she felt quite strongly for Ginny but for her mother to call her on it so blatantly was almost too much for her to bear. She was normally a rather private and reserved person, even though that was changing. If her parents saw it this attraction and emotion clearly then it was pretty much guaranteed that Ginny knew of it as well. She had to know. Ginny knew her better than anyone else, better than Harry even, especially now after all the time they had spent together this summer since she had changed. So if her mother could read her and her heart that easily than there was no way that her heart was hidden from Ginny. The redhead had to know how she was feeling. It was improbable for it to be any other way.
And if Ginny knew how she had felt about her but had not said anything to her about it, there really could only be one reason for it, the one reason that had always kept coming back time and time again in her life. She really wasn't worth it, wasn't worth anyone's time. The kids in elementary school had seen it. They were the first ones to call her on it, making it clear that a stupid buck toothed bushy haired know it all like her would never get any friends and wasn't worth anyone's time or energy. And that had certainly been true all through primary school. She had been the girl all the other kids hated and picked on because she was different than them. She could be attacked with impunity.
Then she went to Hogwarts where she had hoped to fit in with people who were like her and that hadn't happened either. A number of girls she had met didn't like her because she was muggle born, others because of her teeth and hair and most everyone else there, both boys and girls, because of how smart she was. They had been as bad as the kids in primary school, even Ron. If it weren't for Harry dragging Ron with him and the both of them saving her from the troll she would have died in that toilet, unmourned by anyone at the school with perhaps the exception of the professors. She might have gained her own U bend out of it though.
And then there had been Ronald and his awkward and clumsy attempts at wooing her that made her feel even more uncomfortable and self-conscious, more on display for the freak she is, especially when he decided to ignore her and start snogging Lavender. He finally turned to her she guessed as some sort of consolation, despite their fundamental incompatibility and they struggled to build something, something that kept coming apart at the seams no matter what they did to hold things together. Its failure to do anything or grow in any way only made her feel worse and less than other women until Bellatrix had gotten ahold of her. And then Bellatrix had left an indelible mark upon her.
So of course it would be just her luck that she would have developed feelings for Ginny, actual deep feelings and the girl would want nothing to do with her. She was sure that Ginny had not said anything about any of this because she was trying to show some pity and compassion to someone so clearly beneath her, someone not even worth her time, not worthy of her. The redhead had been trying to make this whole thing easy on her without creating a scene and now she had to go and muck it up like she did everything else, like she did the break in to Gringott's. After all, why would anyone want anything to do with a stupid mudblood like her who thought she knew it all but didn't have enough brains to keep her heart out of things that she had no business meddling in? Ginny would be better off without her, happier without her, without sullying herself with someone as terrible as her, as weak as her, as sullied as her, as dirty as her. Her sobs grew softer as her fatigue from crying dragged her down inexorably towards exhausted sleep.
Everyone else had been right all along.