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She didn’t know when it really happened. She just started to notice Hermione more, started to seek out their conversations more, felt a little more angry than necessary every time Ron and Lavender’s snogging was thrown in Hermione’s face. Initially, it had all just felt like regular old close female friendship.
But eventually it became too hard to deny. When she started to get distracted during Quidditch, her eyes straying every once in a while to figure out who exactly Hermione was watching, that’s when she drew the line. She was a Gryffindor, damn it, and she could put herself out there and equally she could deal with being rejected if it came.
Only, every time she’d have Hermione alone, she couldn’t help but back out; because Hermione was still laughing at the joke she’d made and, really, Hermione barely laughed that often anymore or they were doing homework together and Ginny knew Hermione was only half-paying attention to her or
Whatever it was, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So the next best option was, well, the upcoming holiday. Ginny had been successfully ignoring Valentine’s Day’s existence ever since Harry had probably reacted in the worst way imaginable to her message, but she had now decided that to embrace this holiday was her only shot.
She hadn’t even considered any way in which it could go wrong.
Hermione came down to the common room moodily and later than usual, where Ginny was waiting for her. Ever since Hermione and Ron had put some distance between themselves, Hermione had sought out Ginny’s company more and they just, sort of, naturally started being around each other more often. That’s what Ginny told herself, when trying to think of a premeditated excuse for waiting to walk Hermione to breakfast on Valentine’s Day. She could keep the stress of her face, but her palms were exceptionally sweaty. It had never been this bad with Harry; she’d just been a bit bummed. She was suddenly quite scared of everything she was putting on the line. Suddenly scared this was actually quite impulsive.
“I just know Ron is going to be insufferable,” Hermione grumbled, explaining her bad mood without prompting. Ginny blinked, glad for Hermione’s words waking her from her thoughts. “Lavender has actually been singing all morning.”
“Singing?” Ginny repeated, one side of her lips quirking up.
Hermione’s matching smile was half-hearted. “Yes, like— she had this song about him she sung while she was getting ready.”
The sound Ginny made was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Better than Weasley is Our King. Though, personally, I quite liked that one.”
Hermione only tittered disbelievingly, scolding her half-heartedly, “Ginny.”
“What? He’s a prat,” Ginny said easily, shrugging. Hermione rolled her eyes, but the ginger could see the smile being suppressed. She felt a surge of courage from it. “You know, maybe today will cheer you up.”
Hermione looked at her as they neared the Great Hall, brow raising in curiosity. “I don’t see how today could possibly cheer me up.”
“Well, it’s Valentine’s Day.” Hermione looked at her expectantly. “Romance is in the air. New relationships blossoming—“
Hermione scoffed. “I don’t want a relationship. I just want some peace and quiet, quite frankly.”
Shit.
Keeping up her light-hearted demeanour, Ginny shrugged before they entered the hall. “Maybe something will change your mind.”
Hermione looked at her with silent questions, but Ginny just walked on to their table without another word. They took their seats where Harry, who looked heavily uncomfortable but grateful to see them, was sat beside Ron and Lavender who were, indeed, acting insufferably.
“Ignore them,” Ginny muttered when she saw Hermione’s eyes stray, putting her hand on Hermione’s to gesture for her to turn and face her so she wouldn’t see them. Hermione did so but not without a furrow of her brows as her eyes lowered to their hands.
“Are you hot?” she asked, her eyes rising to meet Ginny’s again with worry. Embarrassed, Ginny quickly pulled her hand—her stupid, ridiculously sweaty hand—away, pretending she hadn’t heard the question. “Ginny, you might be coming down with…”
When Hermione’s words trailed off, Ginny looked back at her in question, only to see the very card she had prepared had appeared in front of Hermione. Ginny swallowed in hopes of moistening her very, very dry throat. Hermione was staring down at the card like it was going to attack her, and in this pause a few Gryffindors had been began to look over curiously.
“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer, Hermione,” Harry said with amusement, the first to speak. Hermione looked up at him with narrowed eyes and he quickly put his hands up in surrender, smiling. “Not me! C’mon, open it.”
Hermione looked back down at the card, then brought out her wand and muttering something under breath. Ginny could hardly watch.
“It’s… completely safe,” Hermione mumbled, but didn’t put her wand away.
“Open it, then,” Ron said and Hermione’s head snapped up to look at him. Even he had distracted himself from Lavender for a moment to have a look. Ginny’s face was burning.
Hermione turned back to it, nodding as if to herself. She opened the card while holding it a fair distance away from her, then much closer as she eagerly took in the words.
It was much shorter than the first Valentine’s message Ginny had ever sent.
Into girls?
“Into…” Hermione repeated, and Ginny knew that tone to her voice. Hurt, anger. The worst emotions one could elicit from Hermione Granger.
“Into?” Hermione handed Harry the card, her eyes wide and scandalised. Harry blinked at it a few times before looking at Hermione in surprise.
The Weasley closed her eyes, ready to be hexed or maybe punched or
“Who would write something like this?” Hermione whisper-shouted, holding the card close to her chest to hide it. Ginny blinked her eyes open as she processed this question. “Is this one of your brothers?!”
Ginny flinched as the fury was directed at her and instantly shook her head on instinct. “What— I— what is it?” she asked, testing her theory. Hermione handed the card over and Ginny deflated of all nerves but also hope.
She had forgotten to sign it.
“You would know their handwriting, wouldn’t—“
“It’s not them,” Ginny mumbled, shaking her head. She was immediately drained of all energy. How had she managed to mess up a card?
“You’re certain?” Ginny just nodded. Hermione’s gaze lingered for a moment before she was looking at Harry again. “Maybe this is Malfoy’s idea of a joke. Or—“ Hermione stopped herself, but her best friends watched her gaze go to Lavender, who had quickly gained back Ron’s attention.
“Maybe somebody’s genuinely interested,” Harry interjected, shrugging, though he still had a somewhat suspicious look on his face. Ginny watched for Hermione’s reaction, studying her to see if she could figure out why this had offended her so much.
“Yeah, right,” Hermione replied harshly, finally pulling her gaze back from Ron’s girlfriend, only to glare at the table now. “You do know what this implies, don’t you? Since when have you seen any lesbians at Hogwarts?”
Ginny was energised in an instant. “That’s what you’re so worked up about?” she asked, her own fire growing. “That it’s a girl that’s interested in you?”
Incredulously, Hermione stared at her. “What?” she asked, confused by the sudden change in demeanour from her friend. “Ginny, this— it’s obvious this isn’t real interest. It’s someone trying to make fun of me—“
“How do you know that?!”
Hermione looked around, aware they were gathering some attention. “Ginny—“ she urged in a hushed tone.
“Because if anyone even insinuates that you could be gay, they’re obviously just bullying you, is that it?”
“What’s—“
Ginny standing made Hermione trail off. She wanted to speak, but she didn’t trust the lump in her throat, so she just turned and stormed out of the hall.
Hermione watched her go, then turned and blinked at Harry in utter confusion. He was looking at her the same way.
The rest of Hermione’s day was spent struggling to find Ginny. She checked everywhere she could think of and was ready to give up for the day before Harry was running up to her in the corridors.
“She’s in the astronomy tower.”
Hermione blinked, having not expected the sudden run-in. “Sorry?”
“Ginny. She’s in the astronomy tower.”
“But I just checked…”
“She’s moving about a lot.” Hermione opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it. “Just trust me.” Hermione stared at him for a few moments more before nodding hesitantly.
“Thank you, I think,” she said, before turning on her heel and heading for the astronomy tower.
The infinite questions had been following her around all day. How had she upset Ginny so much? What was Ginny even upset about? What exactly had Hermione done wrong?
When she stepped into the astronomy tower, sure enough, she found Ginny, who turned instantly at the sound of her and stared like a deer caught in headlights.
Hermione realised, then, that she should have thought of what to say prematurely. When Ginny attempted to run past her, she broke the silence without another moments hesitation.
“Oh no you don’t, lady!” Hermione cried, grabbing her bicep—the first thing she could—with her hands. “I— I am sick and tired of your running!”
“Ugh,” Ginny groaned, finally giving up in trying to get away. Hermione’s grip didn’t falter. “What?”
“‘What’?” Hermione stared at her. “I should be asking ‘what’!”
“I don’t want to—“
“Ginny!” Hermione tugged at her, and Ginny finally met her eyes in shock at the sudden outburst. “Will you listen to me?”
A beat
Then, a scoff.
“What, so you can— you can tell me all of your theories about who the—“
“Stop it, right now,” Hermione said firmly, her voice lower and eyes somehow darker. Ginny tried not to show her falter. “You will stop speaking nonsense and listen to me, Ginevra Weasley. Are we clear?”
Ginny swallowed, then nodded.
“Right.” Hermione let go of her arm, seemingly trusting her now. Ginny looked at it to see red marks had formed. “Frankly, I’m very— confused.” Hermione looked at her imploringly. “You’re upset with me, but I don’t understand why.” She left another pause, hoping Ginny would fill the silence. She sighed. “At first, I thought you might be— jealous. Like, uhm, maybe you had wanted a card or something, but… but then I realised that you began to get upset once it was about…” She trailed off, watching for her reaction carefully. Ginny was steadfastly staring forward, like she was trying her hardest not to react at all. The sudden coldness cut Hermione like a knife. “Ginny, I want you to be able to tell me anything.” Ginny couldn’t help her scoff. “For goodness sake, do I have to spell it out?!” She groaned when Ginny still didn’t respond. “Are you a— a lesbian?”
Ginny met her eyes. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” She looked away again. “Would it be so bad if I was?”
“No!” Hermione said defensively, stepping back. “No, it wouldn’t be. It’s— that’s your business. Honestly, Ginny, I was never trying to— it’s just, you see— surely you can see how that card can’t be genuine.”
“You can’t know that,” Ginny shook her head, closing her eyes.
“Look, maybe you haven’t, but I’ve dealt with a lot of bullying in my life and I know—“
“Hermione,” Ginny said.
“No, really, I know the signs, and let me tell you—“
“I wrote it,” Ginny murmured.
“No, honestly—“ Hermione just kept going and, somehow, Ginny became convinced there was just one way she could stop her. She stepped forward and kissed her, slow and soft and chaste and earning little to no reaction. Ginny waited nonetheless, watching with fascination as Hermione’s eyes blinked back open.
“What…”
“The card,” she forced out, her throat feeling as though it was closing up. “I meant to sign it, but I forgot.” Hermione stared in stunned silence, processing this all slowly. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I felt for some time but it seemed easiest to write it down and I wanted to make it heartfelt but I just— I don’t know, I tried to write it and that’s all that I could get down. I wrote a poem before that but it never worked out with Harry so I thought, well, you know… It was never— I was never joking.” She sighed, hating the silence, hating that she had no one to blame but herself. “Look, I’ll just— I won’t make you do this. I’ll leave.”
When Ginny turned to go, Hermione grabbed her as she had before. “No,” she said, looking almost as surprised as Ginny by her own words.
“Hermione, you don’t have to…”
“No, just let me—“ Hermione closed her eyes, frustrated. “I haven’t— I’ve never looked at you in this light, okay? This is— very sudden.”
“I understand—“
“Listen to me, will you?” Hermione growled out, frustrated once more. “I don’t have feelings for you.” Ginny nodded solemnly, but Hermione didn’t give her the chance to speak. “But I believe there is… potential for me to,” she said, trying to choose her words carefully. “I mean— what I’m saying is, well, you’re a good friend of mine and you’re obviously attractive and I— I wouldn’t be opposed to, say, a date.”
She had avoided eye contact during her words but looked up once she had finished, to find Ginny staring at her total and utter amusement. She blinked, suddenly fearing maybe all this actually was a joke.
“Obviously attractive, eh?” Ginny sauntered closer, her lips tugging upwards. Hermione almost breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date, Granger?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, barking out a laugh. “You flatter yourself,” she scoffed.
“No, I think you’ll find that was all you,” Ginny countered, her grin spreading.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I even entertain you,” Hermione claimed, snatching her hand away from Ginny’s arm and putting some distance between them. She was still smiling.
“You’ll remember when I take you out on that date,” Ginny said, her usual, confident self that Hermione had begun to miss. She laughed, just shaking her head and pulling the girl into a hug.
“Don’t hate me if this doesn’t work out,” Hermione mumbled into her skin, and Ginny shook her head instantly.
“Don’t say that, you idiot,” she replied. “You’re never not being my friend. Whether we’ll end up shagging or not is just a bonus.”
Hermione broke from the hug at that, gasping and scandalised. But there was that amusement to her features Ginny knew how to recognise. “Honestly!” she laughed, shocked. “Your tongue!”
“Yes, I imagine that would get involved.”
Hermione whacked her shoulder, shaking her head fondly. Her cheeks reddened as she struggled for a retort. “You’re worse than your brothers.”
“Wounded, truly, ‘Mione.”
Hermione just smiled at her, before looking down at her hands in the silence. Ginny didn’t really recognise this side to her; she didn’t often see her nervous. “C’mon, we better get back before curfew,” she stated, taking her hand and tugging her along. “After all, I think there’s a poem you need to show me.”
“Ugh, okay. But, you know, there really aren’t a lot of words that rhyme with ‘brown’, so… no judgement.”
Hermione raised her brow. “There are a multitude; down, town, crown, clown, frown—“
“Know-it-all.”