Author's note:

A few notes before you continue:

- This story will include the development of both Hinny and Romione, with admittedly more emphasis on Hinny.

- As Ginny is the most "missing" in canon, you'll also find a larger number of Ginny POV chapters in this fic, as she and her character development warrant further exploration.

- Comments and questions are always appreciated, so if you enjoy this story, I'd love to share the experience with you! Please feel free to drop what you liked best, which POV is your favorite, or any thoughts that spark for you along the way. Happy reading!

- Feel free to follow here on FFN, Ao3 or Tumblr honeydukesheroine for updates.

I wrote this story for myself, but I am posting it to share with the HP community! Happy reading :)

HERMIONE

"McLaggen?! You're taking McLaggen?!" Ginny demanded. "Hermione, why would you do that to yourself?"

Hermione stood in front of the full length mirror, making another desperate attempt to pin back one of her problem curls. Her arms had begun to ache, her shoes were already pinching at her heels and she knew it was too late to undo asking McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas Party.

"It was the best way I could think to upset Ron," Hermione said. Her frustration peaked when caught Ginny's mouth hanging open in the mirror's reflection. "Oh, don't look at me like that. He's been infuriating and I couldn't see another way to -"

Just then, Lavender burst through the door of the sixth year's dormitory followed by Parvarti. Hermione rolled her eyes involuntarily at herself in the mirror, which also contained a smirking Ginny. Taking one cursory look over Hermione and Ginny's evening wear, Lavender flung herself on her bed and laid a hand across her forehead.

"Oh, I'm so jealous of the pair of you, getting to go to that party."

"Yes, Ginny wait till you see Dean, he looks so handsome," Parvati added in an oddly accusatory tone.

"Erm, okay -"

"Oooh, as does Cormac, Hermione," said Lavender, perking up at the opportunity to gossip. "I can't believe you didn't tell us about the two of you."

"We wondered whether you and Harry were secretly dating," added Parvati.

"Yes, seeing as you fancy really good Quidditch players."

"Oh! Didn't you hear, though? Harry is taking Loony Lovegood."

"Don't call her that," Ginny demanded.

"Oops, sorry," said Lavender, not sounding sorry at all. "But he can't actually like her, could he?"

"And why not?" Ginny countered. "Luna is kind and loyal and one of the bravest people I know."

Lavender and Parvarti were momentarily stifled by Ginny's sudden assertiveness. Hermione caught them sharing a meaningful glance, clearly referencing some previous conversation they'd shared.

Hermione's nerves started to mount, her hands felt clumsy and her stomach churned. She wished her mother hadn't sent her this dress. It was itchy and far more revealing than Hermione was typically comfortable with. Would Cormac notice? She attempted a Lengthening Charm to add more fabric over her chest but stopped when Ginny caught her eye again, silently saying What're you doing? It's fine.

"I was actually hoping that Harry would ask me. Seeing as how he asked me to the Yule Ball at the last minute fourth year," said Pavarti, as if to brag.

"That'd have been smart of him. But honestly, I'm surprised he isn't taking Romilda Vane," Lavender exclaimed.

Ginny made no attempt to hide a derisive laugh, "You're joking, right?"

Lavender ignored her. Instead, she fanned out her hair and continued to gaze dreamily up at the top curtains of her four poster bed. "It's a shame Won-Won and I couldn't go together, it would have been glorious to get all dressed up, go dancing, and afterwards we'd -"

"Are you ready, Hermione? Or would you like to take another fifteen years to -"

"Yes! Yes!" Hermione replied. She resigned herself to her unruly hair, if only to escape Lavender's stream of consciousness regarding Ron. Sharing a dorm with her was surely an exercise in torture by attrition. She took one last aching glance at her dismal reflection and hurried to grab her bag.

"Have fun for -" Lavender cried after them, but was drowned out as Ginny slammed the door behind them.

"I swear, you'd think she was trying to get me to hex her," Ginny said.

"Why didn't you?" Hermione asked, earning a snigger from Ginny.

Ginny rushed Hermione down the stairs into a buzzing Gryffindor common room. The few students attending Slughorn's Party were the subjects of thinly veiled glares of envy. The uninvited students slouched in feigned relaxation, feeling the sting of not being exalted to the status of Slughorn's favorite students. Normally Hermione didn't mind the Slug Club parties, but tonight she would have given anything to trade places with them.

"Will you stay with us?" Hermione asked, pulling at the strap of her handbag.

"What, hang around you and McLaggen?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded. "Why should I? It wasn't my choice to spend the evening with him. And will you stop fidgeting? You're making me anxious."

"What have I done, Ginny?" Hermione looked at Ginny despairingly, her fingers twisting nervously together.

"You've gone to extreme measures to show my brother how much of an arse he's being," Ginny said. "And I respect that. But next time, find a way that does not punish yourself!"

"Hey," said a voice behind them. They whirled around to come face to face with Harry. Hermione caught Ginny's expression upon laying eyes on him - her eyes scanned over in his fine dress robes, subtly Christmas themed tie, and up to his eyes.

Ginny cleared her throat and said, "Hi Harry. You - erm - you look nice."

"Er - thanks, Ginny. You too," he said, pulling at his collar. "Are you ready to go?"

"Sorry, Harry. We're waiting for Dean and McLaggen."

"You're really taking him then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Yes, and before you start on me about Ron -"

"It didn't sound like Harry mentioned Ron," Ginny interrupted with a gleam in her eye. "Did you Harry?"

"No, I don't believe I did."

"That's odd. What could my brother have to do with Hermione's date to the party?"

"No idea."

They both turned their smirking faces toward her. Hermione chose instead to study the circular iron chandelier hanging above them, decorated with holly filled sprigs of garland.

"Well, I said I'd meet Luna downstairs in five minutes. See you both there," Harry said, giving Ginny a rushed smile and disappearing through the portrait hole.

"That was cute," Hermione said in her deepest sarcasm. She crossed her arms and scanned the room again, checking for Comac's looming form. Her antsy fidgeting had now reached her feet and she began tapping her shoe against the floor.

"Shut up," Ginny said, readjusting the waistband of her shimmering midnight blue dress, one Hermione had never seen before.

"This is nice. Is it one of Fleur's?" Hermione indicated the dress, trying to distract herself.

"What? Fuck no. Tonks lent me this," Ginny said. She swept her bright red hair over one shoulder and scanned the room for Dean.

Hermione did the same, hesitantly scanning the room for Cormac. Instead, she froze upon making eye contact with a sullen faced Ron. He was sitting clear across the room near the fireplace in one of those three squashy chairs they used to occupy as a group. Since his betrayal, Hermione normally kept herself constantly aware of his location to ensure she could avoid him. But tonight, seeing his miserable expression empowered her. She threw back her shoulders and held her head high.

Ginny squeezed her arm before saying, "Look, here they are."

"Hey, you look nice," Ginny smiled up at Dean when he approached them, she readjusted his tie unnecessarily.

Soon the two were sharing a snog, forcing Hermione to acknowledge her own date. Still feeling Ron's eyes on her, she greeted Cormac with an obvious touch on the arm, a flutter of eyelashes and her warmest smile.

Hermione had never been more eager to leave the castle for the holidays. The last weeks of term had been decidedly dreadful. Ron's insufferable mood swings had hit new extremes. He was dealing out blows of which she was inexplicably on the receiving end. Just to top it all was having to run narrow escapes of Cormac during the party. She couldn't even enjoy the networking opportunities.

Since Ron had kissed Lavender, If you could call that kissing, Hermione couldn't stand the sight of him. Generally, Harry was a comfort, but shared his time judiciously in an effort to remain neutral. She couldn't help noticing that her friendship with Harry felt imbalanced without Ron. They didn't laugh nearly as much, or at all. When they spoke, it was challenging for her to break the tension of discussing the Half-Blood Prince or his theories on Malfoy. More commonly, he simply didn't speak. She assumed he preferred Ron's company. But she couldn't blame him. She did too.

Between class times and some evenings, Ginny joined her to share sweets or ask advice with OWLs. Not much was different there, other than Ginny having an air of manufactured politeness about her. Perhaps she had heard about the birds.

Even her studies did not hold their usual satisfaction. Having to strategically avoid seeing, hearing, or being within twenty feet of Ron on a daily basis was an effort in tactics that took up much of her energy. For all these reasons, Hermione found herself longing for the simplicity of home. Perhaps she could go on a drive with her mother, like they used to. Or ask her dad what books he had been reading.

The Ministry had decided all students were to travel via Floo Network this year. Each student was assigned departure times. Since Hermione's was in several hours, she sat at a table in the common room, reading The Magical Misadventures of Madcap Michael.

"Good morning," Ginny said, yawning widely and sinking into a chair across from her. "Since when do you read children's books?"

"Since I confiscated it from some first years for drawing explicit cartoons," said Hermione, indicating the title page of the book. Ginny stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"They grow up so fast," she said.

"How was your evening? I didn't see you and Dean at the party."

"That's because we were there all of ten minutes," Ginny said, her head propped up on her fist. "We got in a row."

"Oh? I thought you two were getting along."

"We had been," she said earnestly. "Until last night. He got upset that I didn't introduce him to Gwenog Jones."

"I'm surprised anyone could get a word in with her," Hermione muttered, putting a heating charm on the cup of Earl Grey she'd been enjoying before Ginny came down.

"I know what you think of her. And she has every right to be 'full of herself.' She's captained the Harpies through their best victories. She redefined the team and -"

"Spare me. I've heard enough about Quidditch from Cormac."

"What'd you expect? Quidditch is all he talks about. His favorite subject. Second only to himself." Ginny said, but in response to the look Hermione gave her Ginny managed to work her face to look mildly sympathetic. "Was it that bad?"

"He kept feeling down my back to 'help me through doors' and I caught him staring down my dress multiple times. He didn't even try to hide it."

The evening as Cormac's date had been horrendous. If not only for his unending self-possessed monologue, then certainly for his wandering hands and lingering eyes that made her skin crawl. Through it all, she had held to her only assurance: that dark, invidious expression on Ron's face when she left for the party with Cormac.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. He's a pig," said Ginny, flipping through Madcap Michael. She looked up and winked. "Though, in his defense your boobs looked spectacular. Do you think Ron noticed?"

"I'm sure he gets enough of that from Lavender," Hermione replied.

Ginny snorted and looked around the nearly empty common room.

"Hermione, there's something I've been needing to tell you," Ginny whispered, closing the book. "I haven't said anything because, at first, I didn't regret it. But now that I've seen how Ron reacted… and how you aren't speaking to him… And now I'm worried you might think it's all my fault…"

"What is it?"

"Erm... it's about something I said to Ron," she said in a long breath out. "I told him you snogged Krum."

"You what? Why on earth would you -"

"It's all Ron's fault, really," she said defensively. "He and Harry walked in on Dean and me privately celebrating him making the Quidditch team. And - oh, don't look at me like that, it's not a crime to shamelessly snog someone in a secret passageway," she spat.

"And you figured that would be the opportune time to tell Ron that Viktor and I kissed?" Hermione spluttered. "It was twice and I put an end to it."

"Three times. Remember, before the Third Task?"

Hermione felt hot with humiliating frustration, it crept uncomfortably up her neck, making her head pound. She directed a scathing look at Ginny who shifted in her seat guilty.

"Alright, in hindsight it was a poor reaction on my part. But Ron accused me of being a tart. So I told him how we've all snogged other people. And it's not my fault he decided to accept the challenge. Poor Lavender was just his first available victim," she finished, shaking her head in sympathy.

Now it made sense. How like Ron. Taking a completely drastic action in opposition of his feelings. All to prove a point he didn't need to make. Not to her, anyway.

Hermione felt her insides freeze over. When would he finally grow up? When would he react like a sane, stable human being? For each of his good qualities, an equally negative one stood opposite, effectively canceling it out. She was exhausted with navigating the pits of his self consciousness.

"Are you angry with me?"

Hermione took her time answering. She wanted to blame Ginny for what happened. Ginny, the girl who had always been so private about her own affairs, suddenly decided to shout Hermione's secret to the one person she shouldn't? But it wasn't exactly her fault. Hermione always knew Ron might react like this, he was irrational when it came to her relationship with Viktor. That's why she never told him.

"Yes and no," she said. "I do wish you had told me sooner. I had no idea what I was supposed to have done. But I don't necessarily blame you. Viktor and I weren't exactly a secret."

Ginny chewed on her lip, not completely satisfied.

"I am sorry, Hermione. Really, I am."

Hermione waved it off. "It's not like you can control an underdeveloped hormonal child. He is capable of making himself into a complete and utter arse all by himself."

"Er - right." Ginny tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, nervously biting her lip. "Would it help if I put Body Hair Growth Potion in Lavender's tea?"

Still upset, Hermione dismissed her joke. "So what was Dean so upset about last night anyway?" she asked instead, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

"I dunno exactly. Something about me ignoring him around Gwenog and him being a poor Quidditch player," she said, turning to scan the common room. "By the way, have Ron and Harry been down yet? We're supposed to leave in an hour."

"No," said Hermione pointedly. "I have not seen Ronald."

"Well, do you want to go down to breakfast?"

Once outside of the common room, the two girls pulled their coats closer, linked arms, and hurried along the bitter cold of the castle's passageways.

"I cannot believe Ronald," Hermione burst, shaking her head. Ginny squeezed her arm comfortingly. "If he would have just asked me about -"

"Oh yeah, and he would say 'Hey, Hermione. Ginny just told me you had mind-blowing make out sessions with an international Quidditch star. I know I'm just a temperamental Gryffindor Keeper, but will you snog me too?'"

"He's not just a Gryffindor Keeper," Hermione said softly.

"Yeah, he's also a massive git."

"People are more than just how talented they are at Quidditch, Ginny," Hermione said, earning an eye roll from Ginny clearly saying, Here we go again. They were now back to discussing Ginny and Dean's argument. "Maybe it was just that Dean wanted to be involved in your life. You are very independent, you know. Sometimes boyfriends can be intimidated by that."

"I'm not going to coddle him to ease his ego."

"That's not what I'm suggesting."

Upon reaching the Great Hall, they sat down across from each other at the nearly empty Gryffindor table, most students still having a lie in before their Floo appointments. Hermione spent the half hour that followed asking Ginny more details about what happened when Ron and Harry walked in on her and Dean. She didn't know whether or not it came as a comfort to know that she'd been correct: Ron had taken up with Lavender out of some desperate act of self-consciousness. What frustrated her most was why he felt like he could not just come talk to her about it. Instead, he had to parade around insulting her and throwing himself into the arms of another.

"Oh, rats," said Ginny, spotting Dean enter the Great Hall, apparently searching for her.

"You can't just avoid him, Ginny," said Hermione.

"You're one to talk."

When he arrived, Dean greeted the two of them and made every indication that he wished to speak to Ginny alone. Seeing that Ginny refused to the take the obvious hint, Dean cleared his throat and started, "About last night -"

"Don't apologize, Dean. It was such a silly argument. Probably best for us to cool off over the break, let it go."

"I actually wasn't going to apologize," he said. "I meant what I said."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Hermione felt the building tension as he stood waiting for her response. However, Ginny looked determinedly away, nodding slowly and clearly at a loss for what to say next. Hermione fiddled with her tea cup, making soft clunks against the wood to fill the resulting silence. Dean cleared his throat and bravely continued.

"So do you want to go talk about it or -"

At that moment, a piercing "Won-Won!" filled the hall, causing the students around them to wince. They turned to see Ron and Harry entering the Great Hall, Lavender launching herself at the former. Harry dodged her swiftly, leaving Ron, who looked as if he'd like to do the same.

"Morning," Harry said, rubbing his eyes, sitting down beside Ginny, and pulling toast and eggs onto his plate. "Ginny, we leave in thirty minutes, yeah?"

The mood had suddenly turned from awkward to tense, as Dean glared at a very stubborn, very un-talkative Ginny.

"Yeah," Ginny said.

At that instant, Dean threw up his hands and shook his head in frustration.

"Merry Christmas, Ginny," he said before storming off. Harry searched Hermione for more information, but she shook her head to signal, Don't ask.

"Harry, did you have fun at Slughorn's party?" Ginny asked brightly.

His mouth was full, but he gave a noncommittal shrug. "Not particularly," he said. "Luna helped though."

"I'm glad you took her! I'm sure she had a good time."

"I didn't see you there. I would have thought you'd be chatting up Gwenog Jones all night," he said, a knowing smile spread across his face.

"We spoke, actually! She gave me her card," Ginny said, using careful hands to pull out Gwenog's shining green and gold card to show it off to Harry.

"That's brilliant! She spoke to me too, somehow knew I was Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain."

Hermione snorted. "Harry, the whole Wizarding world knows you're Captain."

"Yes, I believe it was one of the items on Teen Witch Weekly's Top 10 Most Fanciable Facts About Harry Potter," Ginny teased.

"Oh yeah? There are ten?" He said, grinning.

"I believe there was 'Triwizard Champion', 'Rode a Centaur', and my personal favorite 'Stuck a Wand in Troll's Nose'."

"Really? I would have thought 'Youngest Seeker in a Century'."

"Interestingly, 'Modest' was also missing from the list."

His face took on a warm glow as they traded quick smiles. Hermione's eyes narrowed, bouncing between them.

"Look at the time. We'd better hurry Harry, we need to grab our things and head to McGonagall's office," Ginny announced.

A loud slurping noise drew their attention towards the other end of the table. Icy revulsion sliced through Hermione at the sound, causing her to turn away, crossing her arms and legs to shield herself from the affronting sound.

"Ron!" Ginny shouted. When he made no move to extract himself, she yelled "Oi, Bilius!" and threw a croissant at the pair of them. "It's time to go!" Ron finally removed his face from Lavender and made an obscene hand gesture.

With Ginny distracted, Harry leaned in close to Hermione across the table. "Hermione, I have some really important news when we get back from break. About Malfoy."

"Fine," she said, looking in the opposite direction.

"Let's go, Harry," Ginny mumbled through a bite of croissant. She swung her leg over the bench and used Harry's shoulder to hoist herself up. He finished off the contents of his mug and quickly followed.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione!" they both said before jogging out of the Great Hall.

Pans clanked against serving bowls in her parent's kitchen as Hermione's mother and father finished making dinner and set the dining table. She had been home all of two hours, having been one of the last to Floo home for the holidays.

It was strangely unsettling to see the details of her childhood home being gradually changed in her absences at school. Her parents had now upgraded to an electric tea kettle, disposing of that dinged up old silver one that served her countless midnight decaf teas. Mail no longer went on the dining table, but in an organizer on the entry table. The curtains had all been changed. New outdoor seating in the garden.

Everything was being replaced and upgraded, like the details of her early memories, slowly slipping out of reach.

"I'll have to get you into the office to get a cleaning," her father said, bringing her attention away from the new floral patterned valances.

She internally rolled her eyes.

Two hours home and a new record for the oral hygiene lecture. She wondered if it was his way of exerting some sort of authoritative power over her, the way he always demanded she come into his office on holiday.

"Dad, it's as I've said, they have enchantments on the toothpaste that prevent cavities and most gum diseases."

"I'd still like to bring you in, just to check up," he said. He'd never been completely at peace with the idea of magical toothpaste replacing much of his practice. "There's no replacement for flossing."

"Dad, there's magical floss," she insisted.

"Hermione, dear, how are your friends at school?" asked her mother, changing the subject.

Her mother, being on the traditional side of things, had dropped painfully obvious hints throughout the years about her two best friends being boys. Because of this, Hermione learned that it settled her mother's worries to mention Ginny first. Soon enough, in her letters and during lonely table conversations, it began to sound like Ginny was Hermione's only friend. Instead, Hermione made attempts to steer the conversation in the way of classes, professors, and prefect duties. Things her parents might understand. They'd always taught her that education was the foundation of forming a comfortable life through adulthood.

"I still think you should try to keep up studies of maths and science. I'm not sure I appreciate that they don't teach you more traditional subjects," said her father.

"Well, what is relevant for witches and wizards is worked into the curriculum. Like Potions and Arthimancy," Hermione repeated for what seemed like the twentieth time.

This earned another aching lag in conversation, so that she tried to chew quietly enough that her parents would not hear her. Their forks and knives scraped against her mother's fine china.

More to fill the void than express any real concern, Hermione said, "It is getting a bit dangerous to be Muggleborn these days."

This was putting it lightly, she knew. But after her third year, she had stopped telling her parents specifics regarding the changing atmosphere in the Wizarding world. It was easier that way.

Her dad clucked his tongue and shook his head, "And in this day and age."

"Should we be worried, dear?" her mother asked, scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate.

Her mind flashed to the image of Harry reappearing at the Third Task, clutching Cedric Diggory's body. It was quickly replaced by the scene of Muggle's bodies being manipulated as they floated helplessly through the air at the World Cup. Then to the long dark hallway that led to the entrance of the Department of Mysteries. She licked her lips and shook her head.

"No, no. Dumbledore has it under control. No one can hurt us while he's headmaster."

"Good then!" said her mother, sounding relieved. "How is Ginny's family? Molly and Arthur? The ones we met?"

Ignorant of Harry's prophecy, Death Eaters, and the return of You-Know-Who, her parents believed it all to be an issue of simple bullying. A simple difference of opinion.

Hermione pushed her mashed potatoes around, wondering how or if she'd ever be able to explain the situation she'd got herself into. Having her best friend man-hunted by a Dark Lord. Being somehow involved in potentially deadly situations each year. The fear of her blood status. All of this made her feel distant from her parents. Even so, she could not find it within herself to regret being given a Hogwarts letter. Nor becoming friends with Harry and the Weasleys (well, with the exception of Ronald).