I really wanted to develop the relationship between Ginny and Hermione. I feel that they deserve some love. This chapter is dedicated to the close bonds of love and friendship between girls and yes, sisters. It's the subtlety of the nature of this kind of bond between women and girls that makes it so special. The title is a quote from Sarah Kay's poem "The Type", which was written for her best friend, something I found fitting for this chapter. I hope you enjoy this installment! Please review!
A shoutout to my bestfriends and my sister: like Ginny and Hermione, we can withstand the Dark Lord and the test of time xx
Hermione's eyes popped open. Breathing hard, she stared at the ceiling above her. Ginny's magical night lamp was casting the constellations onto the darken room and Libra glinted in the corner of the room. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Hermione checked her portable alarm clock. 4 a.m. Crikey, she had school tomorrow! She needed to get some rest soon.
"Hermione?" A groggy Ginny called out in the darkness.
"Did I wake you?"
"Yeah, you were talking in your sleep." Hermione could hear Ginny shift on her mattress. "Bad dream?"
"Yes."
"I used to get those…after he…You-Know-Who… he…"
"Does anyone know about this?" Hermione inquired, sitting up. "You know you've got to tell someone, preferably Dumbledore, this."
"Calm down Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "Dumbledore knows about it. He told me to go to him if anything… unusual occurs."
"And?"
"I'm fine!"
"I guess if Dumbledore thinks its fine." Hermione lay back down onto her pillows.
They lay silent for a long while. Hermione wondered whether Ginny was asleep yet. Hermione could not sleep. Not so fast. The dream was still fresh in her mind.
"So, do you think Harry would notice me this year?" Ginny asked. If Hermione could see in the dark, she would have seen Ginny blushing furiously.
Hermione looked up from crafting her mental checklist. This was a conversation she had been meaning to have with Ginny. But she did not know how to broach the subject. Harry was her best friend, for crying out loud! Yet, Hermione felt responsible to educate Ginny on the art of being a sophisticated respectable young woman. Ginny, in her opinion, had to grow out of childish fantasies and infatuations especially when it concerned Harry.
"Ginny, the best way to attract a boy…" Hermione trailed off because she was not exactly sure what the best way to attract boy was. Was she really the best person to tell Ginny this?
"Yes?" Ginny inquired eagerly, her interest piqued.
"Is to be a strong independent woman." Hermione finished. "Like Elizabeth Bennet."
"Who?"
"Elizabeth Bennet, my favorite female character." Hermione stood up and pulled out her trunk, which she had bewitched with the Undetectable Expandable Charm to hold more books than it looked. There was a small compartment that shelved her favorite novels from her childhood, from Enid Blyton to J.R.R. Tolkein. Hermione ran her fingers against the worn spines and pulled out her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, which was just visible in the near dark room. She handed it to Ginny. "Read it when you have the time."
"Thank you Hermione." Ginny grinned. "Harry did ask me whether the Quiddich match was good last week."
Hermione shook her head, frowning in the dark. "Elizabeth was stubborn and unrelenting, refusing to settle for anything less." Hermione stated. "Harry is still… a boy. He doesn't know what romance is yet. Give him time to mature into a man. And give yourself time to do something meaningful like finding yourself and finding something you're passionate in. Harry would like an independent girl, someone who can defend herself, have her own interests and know how to have fun around him."
"He would?" Ginny's eyes were as large as Dobby's. Hermione crossed her fingers and hoped that she was not giving bad advice. She had never had a female friend before, let alone a little sister who needed advice. But Hermione gave it her best because she knew Ginny to be a girl of independent thought and a great sense of humor and Harry appreciated that kind of thing. But until Ginny became more comfortable herself with him, Hermione doubt she stood a chance. Besides, Harry was too young to begin thinking of having a girlfriend. Hermione gave him a year or less before he discovered girls.
"Affirmative." Hermione nodded. "You're a beautiful girl who would grow into a beautiful strong woman one day and that's what you want him to see: a beautiful, intelligent, dignified, strong and independent woman."
"Oh Hermione, I really wish you were my real sister." Ginny had tucked the book into the small tattered backpack in the corner of her bed. "Maybe someday you would be…" She was thoughtful.
Hermione laughed. "I really hope not."
"My brothers are rather disgusting aren't they?" Ginny was thoughtful again. Then she blushed and looked at Hermione rather shyly. "Thank you, for being a great friend. Even though I tried to kill you last semester." Ginny looked crestfallen and a ghost of the torment she had endured seemed to pass over her.
"Oh Ginny, you were possessed by Voldemort! I could hardly blame you for it." Hermione took her hands in hers. "Look, he's destroyed now, you're free of him."
"But sometimes, I can still hear his horrid thoughts, egging me on." Ginny placed her head in her hands, ashamed.
"Ginny, you need to put that behind you. You have to be strong because I doubt this would be the last time we would encounter Voldemort." Hermione sat beside her and stroked her ginger hair. "And Death Eaters are on the loose. We've got a lot of battles that we have yet to fight. You cannot crumble now." Hermione insisted.
"You're right." Ginny sniffed. She sat up a little straighter. "I'm not another of Voldemort's victims. I'm Ginny Weasley, a strong independent woman… girl."
"Yes you are." Hermione got up and walked over to her bed. "Now get some sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."
That was the last Hermione and Ginny had a private conversation in a long while for Harry had been elected to participate in the Triwizard Tournament and Hermione spent more time in the library, desperately trying to find something that would keep Harry alive. Hermione was certain that someone was plotting to murder Harry and she had a few curses and hexes mastered. Just in case.
Fred and George were sharing the library with the two best friends during that time as well. For some reason Fred kept insisting on the library despite George's protests that the seats in the Common Room were more comfortable. Fred had developed a sudden love being in the library. George understood there were spells and potions that could help them with their products in the library but it was pointless doing so much research when they had lost all their funds because of their bet with Ludo Bagman. They could not afford another Ton Tongue Toffee, let alone any ingredients for the new range of products. But Fred insisted and George found it rather odd that Fred liked to take up the table diagonally across where Hermione was but he was silent about it. Apparently Fred was not the only one who liked library spots that gave them a direct view of the Gryffindor brunette.
After the first task, Harry was no longer around Hermione that often since he had another few months before the next task. Hermione spent her free time researching elf rights, doing her homework and making SPEW badges. And since the announcement of the Yule Ball, it was a rare occurrence to catch a girl wandering alone but Hermione had never been the typical girl. No, Hermione was unique.
Fred paced the shelves in the Potions section. He had not asked anyone to the ball yet and was wondering whether he should ask Hermione. From what he had heard, Ron had not asked her yet. Fred could ask her. Just as friends, right? George glanced up from his parchment.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing—I—"
"Are you asking Angelina to the ball?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I thought I could ask her, seeing as you know, we're Quiddich mates and all."
"Yeah you should, before all the good ones are gone." Fred nodded frantically at George. "I could ask her for you if you want."
"Nah, I'll try my way. I hope she likes flowers."
"No she doesn't. Remember she burned the flowers Lee gave her?"
"Maybe chocolates?"
But Fred was not listening to George. Another conversation was taking place behind the shelves they were currently stationed at.
"Vould you like to go to ze ball wizz me?" Krum's baritone could be heard. Fred tried to look through the books to see who he was asking to the ball. Surely not Hermione!
"Um… Yes, I suppose I would." It was her voice. Definitely her voice. Fred felt like someone had tied his leg to a rock and left him to sink slowly to the bottom of the Black Lake.
"Very vell. I'll see you then." Fred could almost imagine Krum bow and kiss her knuckles like the slick git he was. Fred was livid. He wanted to punch something. He stalked back to where George was seated.
George looked up and was startled.
"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you? Were you even listening to me?"
"She—Krum—"
"Oh Fred! George! What are you doing here?" Hermione appeared by their corner.
"Top secret information. We can't divulge." Fred whipped around and plastered on a smile. Hermione was slightly pink in the face. The dream-like expression made Fred want to knock Krum off his broom at three hundred feet in the air. "We heard you just got asked to the Ball." Fred was trying not to sound bitter.
"Oh, that." Hermione sighed happily. "Keep it a secret will you? I want it to be a surprise."
"Anything for the lady." George piped up behind him. Fred nodded along. "Now, if you must, Fred and I have got a business to run."
Once Hermione had left. George turned to Fred with a look of amusement. "Now I know why we've been 'researching' in the library." Fred smacked his brother.
"Shut up."
George simply grinned.
Ginny Weasley still looked beautiful at the age of seventy-six. She stood by the hearth that both Ron and Hermione flooed through and welcomed them to her home. Harry ambled forward and gave his two best friends a hug.
"I think we're getting too old for this." Ron joked as he had accidentally knocked Harry's walking stick to the floor. Harry took one look at his two best friends and had known instinctively that Hermione needed some time alone with his wife. He insisted Ron try the new brand of Firewhiskey that he had discovered in Diagon Alley a fortnight ago. The men proceeded to the Living Room for a quick catch up.
Hermione, on the other hand, had marched into the kitchen with an unfailing resolve to help Ginny with the meal. Ginny had set potatoes pealing themselves and the turkey filling itself with Christmas stuffing. Hermione washed her hands and took an apron from the hooks by the door and got to work. The two women worked wordlessly side by side. Ginny had known from years of friendship with the brunette that trying to stop her from helping was trying to stop a volcano from erupting. Both were equally as dangerous.
"Have you heard from Hugo?" Ginny broke the silence.
"Mmm? No, but he did send an owl telling us he will be joining us for Christmas dinner." Hermione replied as they mixed the sugar into the eggs for the log cake.
"I was looking through the album of photos the other day…" Ginny begun.
"So was I." Hermione gave Ginny a wry grin. "I was clearing the attic."
"Look at how far we have come, Hermione." Ginny gave a sigh. "It seemed like only yesterday that Lily was born. And here I am expecting Al's first grandchild. I'm going to be a great grand mother again!" She gave an exasperated huff.
"Those days at Hogwarts seem so far away." Hermione agreed.
"But you've not forgotten."
"No, I have not. How could I?"
"We grew up too fast."
"Yet, I wish I could go back in time just to redo it all over again." Hermione sighed. "I could have saved him."
"Hermione…" Ginny warned. It was one thing to be reminiscence about the past and another to live in it. To Ginny, Hermione was on the verge of slipping into the latter and she was adamant that Hermione would not fall back into depression. She would not and shall not witness Hermione's guilt torment her again.
The years proceeding Fred's death had taken its toll on the entire family as well as both Harry and Hermione. Ginny remembered Hermione during her last year of schooling, she had avoided the entire section of corridor where Fred had died. If she could, she would have avoided the entire floor but that was impossible since she had Charms class at that exact level so instead of walking through that particular corridor, she had always made a detour. Ginny had also shared a dormitory with Hermione, often waking up in the middle of the night hear soft sniffles coming from the closed curtains of Hermione's bed.
Ginny knew that Fred and Hermione had shared something that went beyond mere friendship. She could only guess the sheer agony that Hermione was experiencing. If she had lost Harry… She shuddered to consider that possibility. So she coaxed herself back to sleep and by the next morning, Hermione's bed was empty and neatly made. It was as if something snapped within Hermione like a bow that had been strung too tight and was now broken. Hermione seemed to have put herself back together the moment she graduated, flinging herself into her job advocating for elf rights. And Ginny wanted to believe Hermione was completely fine again. It was easy to believe Hermione had moved on but it was moments like these that made Ginny doubt whether her best friend had truly gotten over the loss of her brother. Then again, Ginny could not blame her. She had nightmares of those dark times and if it were not for Harry's unwavering support and strength, Ginny would have given in to darker thoughts that occupied the shadowy corners of her mind.
As Ginny watched her best friend and beloved sister bite her lip and look forlornly into the distance, she cursed herself for bringing up the past. The snow seemed to drift lazily past the windowpanes, contrasting the rapid memories that seem to flit across Ginny's mind. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"I found this in one of my old History of Magic textbooks." Hermione brushed her hands against the apron and pulled out the old tattered photograph from the hidden pocket of her dress. She handed the photograph to Ginny. Ginny pulled her glasses from the top of her head and onto the bridge of her nose. She chuckled at the picture.
"Oh yes, the good ol' times. George was never quite the same after he died."
"We all were never quite the same."
"We all miss him. We all wished that those dark times had never happened during our time. A wise wizard once said "'But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.'" Life is what we make it, Hermione." Ginny placed the photo back into Hermione's hands. "He would have wanted you to experience the life that he never got to live, the freedom that he died fighting for."
With a soft sniffle Hermione was enveloped in Ginny's embrace and she closed her eyes at the sense of comfort and refuge she found from this simple act of love and friendship. And for a moment, she was not Hermione Granger, Head of Department of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement, one third of the golden trio who helped Harry Potter to defeat Voldemort. And Ginny Weasley was not the retired Chaser of the Hollyhead Harpies, correspondent of the Daily Prophet, Leader of Dumbledore's Army, wife of Harry Potter. They were both simply two survivors from a war that took away everything from them and made them child soldiers. For a moment, they were simply two women who were stripped down to the well-concealed scars that this war had left them with. Both knew that it was the scars that could not be seen that took the longest to heal.
"I want my memories back Ginny." Hermione finally said.
"Are you sure?" Ginny took a long look at her sister who nodded firmly.
"All right. Let's go up to my study."