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Disclaimer: And so the scribes of the city heard the words from on high and cast them into the very stones of the earth: Unto JKR, all. Unto myself, nothing.
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It hadn’t taken her long to find him. Of course, it was not for nothing that she had been recognized as one of the brightest witches of her generation. She still did not know what to make of that. She knew that she was smart, but surely there were many smart witches around her age across the globe. Besides, she had so very much to learn. She still made so many mistakes, tonight’s search, for example. At first, she had tried to deduce logically where he must be hiding. When that had inevitably failed, she’d instead tried something new. She cleared her mind and just tried to think of him, to think like him, and, just like that, she’d known.

“Hermione,” Harry muttered as she sat down beside him at the edge of the reflecting pool.

“Harry,” she replied quietly. Across the hedgerows, they could hear the distant sounds of the wedding, still in full swing. Glasses tinkled, music played, happy chatter and laughter filled the air. Here by the water’s edge, though, all sounds were muted.

“Well?” Harry asked impatiently. Like a cat, sharp retorts rested behind lips, ready to spring forth: nothing is wrong, leave me alone, it’s nothing, I’m fine, I want to be by myself, there’s nothing you can do, there’s nothing anyone can do, I don’t want to talk about it, there’s nothing to say, it doesn’t matter, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me, where’s Ron, it’s none of your business.

Hermione met his gaze impassively. She could sense the words lurking. “No, Harry,” she eventually said, “not tonight. No questions. No unsought advice. No lectures.” She smiled and gently laid her hand down upon his in the grass and turned her attention back to the water.

Confused, Harry also cast his gaze out across the pool. A light breeze ruffled the stars as they twinkled there. This was unusual, but somehow it was nice. Though he did not like to admit it to himself, he really did hate to be alone. Together, they sat in silence for some time. Finally, he turned once again to face her.

“Why?” he asked simply.

“I’m not sure,” she answered slowly. “I guess part of growing up is learning how to be a better friend.” She smiled warmly and patted his hand.

“You’ve always been one of my very best friends, Hermione,” Harry insisted.

“I know that,” she replied, “but sometimes I think I’ve not done a very good job of it. It’s tough, you know. I always have so many ideas about what everyone should do, about how to make things better. It only took me a little over six years to figure out that sometimes you don’t want answers, you just want company.” She laughed lightly, but Harry could hear the twinge of sorrow there.

“Of course, sometimes I’m better off with answers, even if I don’t want to hear them,” he said gently. “You always keep us honest, Ron and I. You don’t let us lie to you, to each other, to ourselves.” Harry spun slightly on the grass so he was facing his friend more directly. “I mean it, Hermione, you are a wonderful friend and I know that it hasn’t been an easy thing. I know I can be kind of hard to be friends with.”

“Sometimes,” Hermione admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, Harry.” Giving his hand a light squeeze, she let them both fall back into a comfortable silence. Again, they simply sat together, gazing out across the water.

“You’re right, you know,” Harry eventually said, adding, “as always.” He grinned at her sheepishly. “I guess I could be a bit more forthcoming. It’s not very fair of me to expect my friends to read my mind just because my enemies can.”

Hermione bit back a hundred replies and instead waited patiently, meeting his look with as much encouragement as she could put into her eyes.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’m out here instead of back there.” Harry gestured over his shoulder toward the other part of the gardens where the wedding was still rolling along.

“I had some theories on that,” she answered with a chuckle.

“Theories, you?” Harry laughed and Hermione responded in kind. After they settled down, he continued. “I’m not sure really.”

“Does it start with a ‘G’ and end with a ‘y’?”

Harry sighed heavily. “Probably,” he admitted. “You probably think I’m being an idiot about this. I mean, it’s not like she isn’t in danger anyway, just for being who she is.”

Hermione thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’m really qualified to offer much advice on relationships, Harry, seeing as how none of mine have ever seemed to work out.” She wistfully looked back towards the party.

“You know he really likes you, right?” Harry asked. “He already loves you as a friend, and is probably not that far from the rest already. Why don’t you just talk to him about it?”

Hermione arched an eyebrow pointedly. “Obvious, is it? If it is so obvious to everyone, why do they think I haven’t done just what you suggest?”

Harry stared her, unsure how to respond.

Hermione rolled her eyes and lay back on the grass, sighing wistfully. “You just don’t get it, do you? I love you both. I have for the longest time.” Raising her head to meet his panicked gaze, she quickly added, “As friends, Harry. Love you both as friends. That was confusing enough, then I had to go ahead and hit puberty.” Though it was hard to tell in the dark, she could feel the heat of his blush and it made her smile.

“That’s right, Harry. What was a poor girl like me to do? I’d never had many friends anyway, and now all of a sudden I was best friends with two very kind, intelligent, honorable, and good-looking boys, neither of whom saw me as anything other than one of the lads. You’re both wonderful, but you’re both so very different. Sometimes, my crush would jump from one to the other as many as ten times a day.” Hermione paused, suddenly aware that Harry was laughing and shaking his head.

“You… you had a crush on me…” he muttered, catching his breath. Seeing the hurt crease the corners of her eyes, Harry quickly calmed himself and clarified. “Hermione, do you really think that I never ever thought of you that way, too? You kissed me, you know, on the train platform.” He touched his cheek. Now, it was her turn to blush. He continued quietly, relishing the memory, “I know you meant it only as a friendly gesture, but…well, I’ve always considered that my first real kiss.” Harry lay down on his side, cocking one elbow and resting his head just a bit higher than Hermione’s as she lay on the grass.

Gazing up into his eyes, Hermione felt her breath catch in her chest. True, her crush on him had long since died. She had known for a while now who she truly loved. Still, with the sounds of soft music drifting overhead along with a hundred fireflies, with the soft breeze blowing across her suddenly hot skin, she found herself drawn into another place. She could see that he was right there with her. He closed his eyes and leaned down slowly. Hermione felt time stop as his lips chastely touched hers for a mere moment. In that brief second, she knew. They both knew. Perhaps somewhere, in some other universe or some world of dream and fantasy, Harry and Hermione ended up together, and in that mythical place, they were both very happy together. The real world, though, was a different story.

“Now we’re even,” Harry whispered. He rolled onto his back and lay beside her, holding her hand gently and watching the real stars in the sky, rather than the reflection in the water.

“Do you think that every boy and girl who are friends have to go through this?” Hermione asked some minutes later. “Maybe it’s a hormonal thing or something.”

Harry laughed. “Could be. I don’t know, Hermione. You’re the only good female friend I’ve ever had.”

“What about Ginny?”

“She’s different.”

“How so? Other than the obvious,” Hermione quickly added.

“I never even considered her a friend until the DA. She was just Ron’s sister,” Harry explained. “Then, she started talking to me and I found I really enjoyed it. She’s funny. She’s smart. Not as smart as you, of course, but different smart. Then we were teammates and had that in common, too. When I saw her with Dean that one day, I suddenly knew that I felt a lot more than friendship, though. After we started dating, well, it just felt right, but it all went by so quickly.”

Hermione rolled onto her side towards him, a bit confused. “So, does that mean she’s not a friend then?”

“It’s like the word doesn’t even apply anymore.” Harry kept his gaze firmly planted in the heavens as he struggled to put into words something he’d only barely begun to understand. “When I think about her, I feel like I’m standing on a precipice, like if I just let it happen, just take that one tiny step, that I will never be the same again. She’s dangerous, Hermione. She scares me.”

“What are you scared of, Harry?”

Harry turned suddenly to face her. “What are you scared of, Hermione?”

With a big gulp of air, Hermione braced herself, letting him change the subject. She knew it was almost as important for him to hear this as it was for her to finally say it out loud. “I’m scared of what will happen if he dies, Harry. I know we’ll be with you at the end. I know it’s foolish to think that there will be no casualties. I’m scared that if I let it all out and we build something, that it’s going to go away and I won’t be able to go on. Merlin, Harry, I love him so much. He has the truest, bravest heart of anyone. I’m afraid that if I mix it up with my own, and then one of us dies, that the other will have to as well. I don’t want to lose him and I don’t want to hurt him if it’s me that… “

Harry nodded, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’m afraid that I’m leading her down a false trail. I could love her. That’s one thing I realized finally, after Dumbledore died, when I really made myself think about things. Sure, I’d liked her, a lot. But, I could really truly love her, the forever kind of love. She’s that perfect for me. And I’m scared that I’m selfish enough to do it, and to let her love me back. I’m scared because I think she could love me and I have no idea why she would. I’m scared that somehow I’d be lying to her.”

She simply stared at him, her mind whirling. She knew, of course, that he’d never really experienced any love as a child, at least from the age of one till he came to Hogwarts. Still, she’d never let herself understand how deeply that had marked him. “I love you. Do you think I’m stupid or easily fooled?”

“Of course not,” Harry huffed, rolling again onto his back. “That’s completely different.”

Hermione grabbed his chin and pulled him to face her. “It is not different at all, Harry. True, she will love you in a way far different than the way I do. She may already. But that is mostly a matter of degree. She will love you for the same reasons that I do, that Ron does, that Hagrid does, that so many people already do: because of who you are. Not your destiny, but who you are inside. Because you’re a caring, honest, selfless young man and because you love all of us so much that you’re willing to risk everything to save us. It won’t matter, though, Harry.” She released him and lay back down. “Nothing will matter if you don’t learn to love yourself first.”

More minutes passed as Harry thought about what she had said. Finally, he said, “I think it’s worth the chance, Hermione. You both already love each other, so I don’t think the pain will be that much worse if you just admit it and enjoy it between now and then. I think instead, you’ll just end up regretting that you didn’t take the chance when you had it. All I can do is promise that we’ll do everything we can to make sure everyone comes home safe, ok?”

“Are you going to take your own advice, Harry? You said it yourself that she’s no safer away from you. We’re going to need all the help, and all the love, we can get before it’s all over and I think, one way or another, she’ll end up finding a way to be there at the end anyway, just like the rest of our friends will. We’re going to need everyone, Harry.”

Harry did not respond. Instead, he stood up and dusted some loose grass off of his dress robes. Extending a hand, he helped Hermione to her feet. They stood by the side of the pool, hand in hand, for a few moments, simply gazing into each other’s eyes, finding there the answers each sought. Harry nodded in acquiescence and Hermione whispered, “Done,” sealing their promise. Without another word, they made their way back to the wedding.

Ron Weasley leaned back against one of the gazebo pillars, watching the love of his life disappear beyond the hedgerow. He knew where she was going, but he wasn’t sure about why and the uncertainty plagued him. Gazing around, he thought, ‘I hate weddings.’ His dress robes itched. He didn’t recognize any of the music being played and wouldn’t have known how to dance to it even if he had. The people carrying the trays of food seemed to avoid him, ever since he’d cleared off the last one completely. His mother’s watchful eye prevented him from getting anything stronger to drink than a butterbeer. All of his brothers looked better than he did in their fancier, tailored clothes. Finally, his two best friends had deserted him, off in the woods up to who knew what. Under the relentless assault of this horrid event, Ron stood scowling and idly scratching his neck where the woolen robes irritated his skin.

“I really hate weddings,” he grumbled out loud.

“Join the club,” a bitter voice replied at his side.

Ron looked down, alarmed to think that someone had overheard him complaining. There was only one person who could successfully sneak up on him like that. “All right, Gin?” he asked, putting the happy brother-of-the-groom face back on.

His little sister glared up at him. “No, Ron, all is not right, and don’t try to tell me you feel any different. At least you aren’t dressed up like a bloody canary!” Ron noted that her ruffled yellow dress did have some avian qualities to it, but wisely chose not to mention this.

“You look fi…” he started, but then gave it up. “Well, bridesmaids aren’t supposed to look good and really, do you think I look any better in this get-up?” he sighed.

“I thought Fred and George gave you newer robes, Ron. Why did you wear those old ones?”

“Well, I outgrew them, didn’t I?” Ron explained in an exasperated tone. “These are all I could find that fit. I think they used to be Percy’s,” he added distastefully.

Ginny looked up at her brother, amazed to notice that he had indeed grown another few inches. She recalled just a few years ago when they had been about the same height. Now, the top of her head barely reached his chin. With a subtle wave of her wand, she summoned two chairs over to them. “Here, we might as well sit,” she said, carefully arranging the bustle of her hideous dress so she could sit properly. She noted that they could see more eye-to-eye when they both sat, as well.

“Where’s Hermione?” she asked him once they were settled.

“Why should I know?” Ron snapped, eyes blazing briefly. Ginny arched an eyebrow and he calmed himself down. “Sorry, Gin,” he apologized.

“It’s ok, Ron. Went off to find him, did she?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Ron replied sadly. “I mean, it shouldn’t bother me, right? She’s his friend, too, right? Besides, it’s not like she and I are…”

“Why aren’t you, Ron?” Ginny asked suddenly. “You like her, she likes you. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not that easy, Gin,” Ron protested. “Sometimes it seems like we are… something… but then something happens or someone says something and then… not so much. Besides, I’m not sure she really likes me like that, anyway.”

Ginny snorted in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Everyone knows how you two feel about each other.”

“Then why is it always about him, Gin?” Ron shot back, his face heated. “Always talking about him, wondering about him, worrying about him.” He looked out towards the hedges. “And that’s where she is now, isn’t she? With him.” Ron shook his head, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in the chair. “I know that it’s all about Harry, Ginny. I wouldn’t trade my life for his, wouldn’t want to have to do what he’s going to have to do. He’s my best friend. I’d jump in front of a dragon for him. But sometimes….”

“Sometimes it can be hard to be his friend,” Ginny finished quietly. “Trust me, I understand,” she added with a quiet, mirthless chuckle.

“Oh geez, Gin, I’m sorry,” Ron said quickly. “I didn’t mean… I mean… oh bollocks.”

Ginny laughed fondly and patted her brother on the knee. “It’s fine, Ron. I’m totally over it. It’s not like we were married or anything. It was fun while it lasted, but now it’s over.” She smiled bravely. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m going to break or something. It’s not like I haven’t dated other guys and gone through break-ups before, right?”

“Do you really expect me to believe that, Gin?” Ron asked in a hushed tone, turning to face her directly. “Do you believe it?”

Now it was Ginny whose face heated, whose eyes flashed suddenly. “Why wouldn’t you believe it, Ron? It’s true! It was just a lark… a spring fling…” Her voice caught suddenly and she dropped her eyes away from his. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her robes in her fingers, struggling to regain control of her emotions.

“It wasn’t just that to him, Gin. I know him too well,” Ron said gently. “I’d never seen him so happy, so at peace. You know, his nightmares stopped, after…”

She glanced up suddenly, her moist eyes questioning. Ron could never remember seeing his little sister looking so vulnerable. The sight did not sit well and he resolved to have some words with his best friend.

“Gin, the thing with Harry is that he can be a right idiot a lot of the time, but his heart is in the right place. He does stupid things, but usually he has a reason that seems pretty good, at least to him. He can also be really stubborn about things.”

“You’re one to talk, Ronald Weasley,” Ginny pointed out archly. “How stubborn and stupid are you being about Hermione?”

“I told you, Gin, she doesn’t like me that way. We’re just friends.”

“She loves you, moron! How is it that everyone in the world can see that except you!” Ginny sighed. “Ron, you can’t just wait for it to fall out of the sky. At some point, you have to take a chance. Look at what I did with Harry, running up and kissing him in front of all of Gryffindor.” She smiled at the memory.

“Kissing him? I thought he kissed you?”

“Well, we kissed each other,” Ginny explained. “The point is that at some point, you just have to do something. After all, if true love isn’t worth a risk or two, then what is?”

“You ought to tell that to him, Gin,” Ron pointed out quietly, “because I’m not buying that that was a fling or anything like you and Dean. I may not know much, but I know love when I see it and he loves you, sis. He’s just being…”

“Stupid and noble?” Ginny asked with a light laugh.

“Yeah, that’s it exactly,” Ron exclaimed. He turned to look back at the hedgerow and his eyes darkened. Ginny followed his gaze in time to see Harry and Hermione emerge from the darkness, hand in hand. Hermione leaned up, whispered something in Harry’s ear, and kissed him on the cheek. Ginny could see his blush all the way across the dance floor. She looked up at her brother, who had stood up suddenly. Could they both have been completely wrong?

“Just Friends” by Desslok
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Chapter 3: Ron and Harry


“We’re both going to do this, right?” Hermione whispered as she and Harry stepped through the hedges. Harry nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes scanning the dance floor and tables. “Good,” Hermione said. She leaned up and kissed him briefly on the cheek adding, “Good luck.”

As Hermione leaned back and began her own search of the grounds, she noted Harry’s posture stiffen suddenly. Following his eyes, she saw a very agitated looking Ron stalking off in the opposite direction, a wide-eyed Ginny sitting nearby simply staring at her in disbelief. “Oh no, Ron…” she stammered. Before she could dash off after him, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I think I’d better talk to him first, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, keeping his eyes firmly on Ron and nowhere near Ginny. He could feel her stare boring into his skin and he felt suddenly cold and empty inside.

“But Harry…” she began.

“No, I’m sure about this, Hermione. Let me talk to him. I know Ron and I think I know what’s going on.”

“Don’t let him…”

“Hit me?” Harry laughed darkly. “Maybe I should let him. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.” Without waiting to hear her protests, Harry set off, darting around the tables at the edge of the dance floor, never letting himself look over toward the gazebo.

He found Ron where he knew he would, standing by the broom shed. The tall redhead stooped down and scooped up a handful of pebbles and began angrily tossing them at the trees in the distance. Harry approached warily. “All right, Ron?” he asked.

Ron turned to face him, his eyes narrowed. For a moment, Harry thought he’d be getting a handful of rocks in the face, but, after a brief hesitation, Ron let them tumble to the ground.

“I’m fine,” Ron replied bitterly, a nasty scowl on his face. “That’s how it goes when your life sucks, isn’t it? Or is it, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ How about ‘You can never understand what it’s like.’ I always love that one.”

Memories flashed in Harry’s mind as the words, like daggers, pierced his soul. He felt his own anger rising, but desperately tried to control it. Ron knew him too well, though.

“Oh, did I piss you off, Harry? I’m so sorry. Yeah, it must really bug you when your supposed best friend won’t tell you what’s wrong with him, when he just blows you off so he can mope about on his own. Lucky for you, I know what that’s like. Why don’t you do what I do… go off and look for Hermione. Maybe she can worry about me for once. The two of you can go back to your romantic little walk by the pond.”

“Ron, it wasn’t like that…”

“Just sod off, Potter,” Ron interrupted. He turned back to the distant forest. “Maybe you ought to go screw up Fred and George’s lives now. It’s their turn, right? Or weren’t you done with Ginny and I yet?”

Ron waited, angry retorts to anything Harry might say swirling in his mind, ready to launch. Nothing. He could sense that Harry was still there behind him, but he heard nothing. Eventually, his curiosity overrode his anger and he slowly turned back. His eyes widened at the sight before him: Harry crouched down on the ground, staring off into space. His skin was pale, even in the moonlight.

Noting that Ron had turned around, Harry lifted his gaze to meet his friend’s. “I’d never do anything knowingly to hurt any of you, Ron. The Weasleys are the closest thing to a real family I’ve ever had,” Harry said in a breaking voice.

Seeing his best friend in such obvious pain helped to diffuse some of Ron’s anger, though not all. Unlike Ron who had grown up in a boisterous household of tempestuous people, Harry did not respond well to anger. Ron sighed and sat down on the ground, leaning back against the shed, not caring at all if his borrowed dress robes got dirty or torn.

“I know you don’t mean anything, Harry, but sometimes you sure can do a job of it,” Ron said quietly, and a bit more gently.

“Nothing happened with Hermione, Ron. We were just talking,” Harry began to explain. As he did, he began to understand that this time he’d have to be completely truthful. How many times had he made things worse by trying to protect his friends, by trying to figure out for himself what they should and shouldn’t hear? “We talked about her and I, Ron. We talked about it and I kissed her.” Noting the sudden worry and hurt on his friend’s face, Harry continued quickly. “It didn’t mean anything, Ron. Well, it did, but not what you think. It was like…“ Harry struggled to find the words to explain what had happened earlier. Ron simply waited, trying to figure out what Harry was getting to.

After a deep breath, Harry tried again. “Ron, I used to think I had feelings for Hermione. You know, more-than-friend feelings. I think that she used to have those feelings for me, too. But, what we figured out is that that was a long time ago and it’s over now. She’s just a friend, Ron. A very very good friend, but just a friend. She loves you, mate.”

“Did she say that?” Ron asked, his voice trembling just a little bit. “No, don’t answer that,” he added quickly. “If she does, well…”

“Better to hear it from her than me, Ron,” Harry finished for him, finally sitting down on the ground next to his friend. Crouching like that was tough on the calves. “She wants to talk to you, when we get back.” He fell silent, letting Ron digest what he had told him. He hoped he hadn’t said too much. After a long silence, Harry looked over at his friend with a hopeful expression. “So, are we all right now?”

“No, mate, we’re not,” Ron replied in a quiet, serious tone. He noted Harry’s look of alarm, but did not waiver. He still had some words for his best friend. “I can’t just sit back and watch you do what you’re doing to my sister, Harry. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Harry did not reply immediately. At first, he felt a surge of anger. What business was it of Ron’s? Then, he remembered that she was Ron’s little sister and that the two of them had always been close. The anger faded, quickly replaced by guilt. What had he done to Ginny? She’d seemed to take things pretty well when they’d talked at the funeral. Since then, they had been civil on the few occasions when they’d seen each other. Just because the very sight of her tore him up inside, just because the thought of living without her was making him miserable on a daily basis, that didn’t mean that she felt the same way, did it? Even as the thoughts passed through his mind, he knew the answer.

“I’ve been such an idiot,” Harry whispered, unaware he was speaking aloud.

“Yeah, you have,” Ron agreed. Harry looked up, shocked to realize that Ron had heard his thoughts. “You love her, mate,” Ron went on, “and she loves you and all you’ve done is push her away because you’re too busy being noble to figure out how stupid you’re acting.”

“That’s what she said,” Harry recalled, “at Dumbledore’s funeral, when I broke up with her: ‘stupid and noble.’”

“You’ve got a real problem with that, you know. I don’t know what Hermione said to you earlier, but I hope she told you how much of a pain it is. Just get it through your thick skull that we care about you and we’re going to be there to help you. All of us, not just Hermione and me. Fred, George, Neville, Luna, Hagrid, Bill, Charley, Mum, Dad, Lupin, Tonks… Ginny. We’re all going to be there, mate, so stop trying to keep us from helping you and just deal with it.”

“I never asked…” Harry tried to explain.

“Neither did we, Harry. We’re not asking. I’m telling you. This is the way it’s going to be. We all have everything to lose and everything to gain. It might be you that has to do it in the end, but nothing ever said you had to be alone. We’ll be right behind you, holding off those bastard Death Eaters while you do what needs to be done.” Ron reached over and laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re stuck with all of us now, Harry. Whether you like it or not, you’re a Weasley now, in spirit at least.”

They sat together for awhile after that. Ron gave Harry time to sort out what he’d told him. He could see the wheels turning in his friend’s head, but he felt more confident than he ever had that this time, it just might stick. Soon, his thoughts began to drift back to the wedding and to what awaited him there. Had she really told Harry that she loved him? He suddenly felt very anxious and urgent to get back.

Harry looked over as Ron began to fidget, noting his friend’s longing gazes back to the wedding. He had a good idea what that was all about. Harry decided it was time he started to make up a little to the Weasley family for the pain he’d put them through. He understood now what Ron, and earlier Hermione, had been trying to tell him, what they’d really been trying to make him understand for years now.

“Ron, I really don’t want to think of myself as a Weasley,” he said with a sly smile.

Ron focused back on Harry with a shocked expression. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with being a Weasley!?” Noting Harry’s wicked grin, he started to get a glimmer of where this was going and he felt his stomach clench.

“Well, I just don’t think it would be appropriate for me to have those kinds of thoughts or to do those kinds of things to a sister…”

“Oi, stop it!” Ron yelled, jumping to his feet. “It’s bad enough that I had to see the two of you snogging all over the place. That’s my sister, mate!” He tried desperately to black out all the unwanted images of his pesky little sister and his best friend. “And you’d bloody well not be doing… you know… things… “

Harry stood up as well and began walking with Ron back to the wedding. “The only thing I’m going to be doing any time soon is begging, I think,” Harry informed his friend. “I’ve really messed things up and I only hope she’ll give me another chance.”

“She will, mate,” Ron reassured him, “but, well… a little begging might not be a bad plan.”

The two friends came back around the corner of the house and into the lights and music. Looking over, they saw Hermione and Ginny sitting close together where Ginny and Ron had been. They were facing each other, knees practically touching, and holding hands.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about that,” Ron muttered. Harry just laughed and pulled his friend forward. As they approached, the two young witches noticed and stood up.

“Just Friends” by Desslok
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Chapter 4: Ginny and Hermione

Ginny watched as Harry slunk around the edge of the wedding, tracking her brother down. He never even gave her the satisfaction of a glance, didn't even acknowledge her existence. Ginny was not stupid. She knew that Hermione loved Ron, that she thought of Harry like a brother, nothing more. Nothing had happened out there in the woods. Still, she felt her temper rising. It was bad enough her dear, loving, damned brother had seen through her like a glass window, made her lose control over herself. Then, he had to storm off in a huff, obviously full of wrong-headed ideas. Why couldn't he understand how Hermione felt about him? Why were all boys such total daft idiots?! The sight of Hermione making her way over to her did nothing to improve her foul mood. Just because she knew that nothing could have happened between Harry and Hermione didn't mean that Ginny was thrilled to know that Harry had been willing to talk to her. She hated feeling jealous of their friendship, but she couldn't help it, and that put her in an even worse mood.

Hermione approached Ginny warily, eyes still occasionally drifting back to where Ron and Harry had fled the wedding. She noted the scowl on her friend's face and the way she clenched her dress. “Ginny, you know that nothing...” she began.

“Merlin, Hermione, I'm not an idiot!” Ginny snapped, struggling to keep her voice down. “Just because Ron doesn't have a clue doesn't mean that all Weasleys are stupid, you know.”

Hermione's eyes widened. She could count on one hand the times she had been on the receiving end of Ginny's infamous temper and she had enjoyed none of those experiences. “I was just trying to help!” she replied angrily, just about to jump to her feet and storm off. Instead, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Ginny was one of her best friends, one of her only female friends, and Hermione knew she'd had a rough time of it since the end of the school year. She settled back into her chair, noting Ginny's surprise as she did so. She suddenly realized just how similar Harry and Ginny were. Perhaps the same tactics would work a second time tonight.

Ginny turned her head away from Hermione and away from the distant spot where she knew the boys had gone. Every direction seemed to hold something else to fan the flames of her anger. Happy couples dancing. That brat Gabrielle, simpering to someone from her family, probably about the great and wonderful 'arry Potter. Slowly, she realized that Hermione was still there, but not talking at her. She turned back with a guarded expression.

“He loves you, you know,” Hermione said once she had Ginny's attention back. “He's just scared. He's lost so much and he never really knew how to be loved anyway.”

This time, Ginny carefully controlled her expression, not letting the tumult of emotions swirling in her head show through. “Do you really think that I don't know these things, Hermione?” she said quietly, in a purposefully even tone. “I know that you've been friends with him longer than I have, but I think I know him pretty well.”

Hermione sighed sadly and leaned forward in her chair. “I'm not trying to compete with you, Ginny. He's one of my closest friends, but so are you. I love you both and I just want you both to be happy.”

“I don't know why everyone assumes that we have to get married just because we dated for a few months,” Ginny pointed out, waving her hand idly in the air. “It was fun, but it's not like I'd never dated anyone else or that we were engaged or anything. Can't a girl break up with the mystical Harry Potter, or does the world revolve around him so closely that even one kiss from his magical lips seals her fate forever?” Ginny asked flippantly, her mask sealing back firmly in place. She noted the same disbelieving stare she'd gotten from Ron recently and cursed silently to herself. Her temper flared again.

“He ended it, Hermione. I'm too stupid, inexperienced, and weak to fight alongside him. I have to be wrapped up in cloth and stuck in the attic until the Great Harry Potter saves the world and comes home for his prize.” Seeing that she'd left Hermione dumbstruck, Ginny smiled in savage pride, bitterness overriding her desire to seem aloof. “I'm just his precious little china doll, aren't I? I have to sit and wait and hope he comes home. If I don't, I'm the girl who broke the Chosen One's heart.” The words continued to flow now as Ginny finally let out everything that had dominated her mind since the funeral. “And you know the best part, Hermione? It's that I didn't get to decide any of this. He made all my decisions for me, just like my brothers, just like my parents. Everyone knows what's best for little Ginny. So now I get to sit here and worry about him every single day, not knowing what is going on, feeling more and more useless, more and more helpless. That's my big reward for loving Harry Potter.” Her voice dropped down to a whisper and Hermione had to scoot forward in her chair just to hear it. “And the worst part is that I'll do it, Hermione, but I'm afraid that when it's all over, I'll hate him for making me do it.” She fell silent then, emotions spent. She'd waited so long to get those feelings out her head and now that she had, she felt completely empty inside.

“I hate weddings,” she added after a moment.

Hermione, who had reached out and taken Ginny's hands in her own, suddenly began to laugh. She looked at Ginny with guilty eyes, but couldn't help herself. To her surprise, Ginny began to laugh, too.

“Maybe this is why people always get drunk at weddings,” Hermione theorized, “to drown out all these emotions.”

Ginny giggled and sniffled a bit, suddenly aware that at some point tears had started to fall. Hermione squeezed her hands gently and offered her a napkin. Ginny blew her nose and thanked her friend.

“You know he's an idiot, right Gin?” Hermione finally said.

“That's what Ron said.”

“Well, your brother is much more perceptive than we give him credit for.” Hermione smiled fondly, briefly looking again towards the garden.

“Sometimes, but generally he's an idiot, too,” Ginny suggested. “I think they all are.”

Hermione meditated on the issue for a moment. “Well, I've found nothing in my studies, or my experience, to suggest otherwise, so yes, I think you are correct, Ms. Weasley. Boys are idiots.” Both girls laughed again, though Ginny still dabbed some tears with her napkin.

“So what can we do about it?” Ginny finally asked. “He won't even look at me, let alone talk to me or let me tell him what a prat he's being.”

“I told you, Ginny, he's scared.”

“But why? How could he be scared of me?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“He doesn't understand why you love him. It's bad enough he loves you, when he can barely understand what love is, but mainly it's just that he doesn't think that he's worthy of anyone loving him.”

“What exactly did he say?” Ginny asked anxiously, struggling to understand.

Hermione took the time to recall his words as best she could. “He said he didn't want to lead you down a false trail, that he could love you. He called it the forever kind of love,” Hermione smiled. Harry could be so romantic sometimes. “He said that you were perfect for him and he was scared that he was selfish enough to let himself love you and let you love him. He doesn't understand why you'd love him and thinks he's somehow lying to you.”

“But that's completely daft,” Ginny replied. “Our whole family loves him. Lots of people love him.”

“Not like you do,” her friend pointed out, smiling fondly as Ginny blushed and dropped her gaze to the ground. With a sigh, Hermione went on. “He promised me, Gin, that he'd try to stop pushing everyone away, especially you.”

“Did he really say a forever kind of love?” Ginny asked quietly, her eyes lighting up with a hope that Hermione had feared gone forever.

Hermione nodded, sniffing back some tears of her own, dreaming of hearing words like that from Ron someday.

Ginny pondered what her friend had told her. All of her anger melted away, replaced by a fierce determination. Enough was enough. This was all going to end tonight. Secure in her new resolve, something else occurred to her. She looked back up at Hermione shrewdly. “What did you have to do to get him to make that promise?”

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. “I had to promise him that I'd stop worrying about what was going to happen and just take a chance with Ron.”

Ginny laughed suddenly, “That's exactly what I told Ron to do, to stop being so damn scared all the time and take a risk for once.” Ginny reached out and grabbed Hermione's hands in her own. Looking up, she noticed that Harry and Ron had returned and were walking purposefully toward them. After a final, reassuring squeeze, she pulled Hermione up with her and released her hands.

“I say you give him one last chance to do things on his own and then jump his bones,” Ginny whispered quickly to her friend. Hermione giggled and nodded in agreement.

“You're a great friend, Gin.” Hermione whispered back.

“You too, Hermione,” Ginny replied with a warm smile. Then, she turned to face Harry with a steely gaze. With a fierce smile, she took his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor. “Dance with me, Harry,” she asked in a tone that brooked no dissent. She didn't notice the light punch on the arm that her brother gave Harry nor Harry's happy look of embarrassment as he meekly let her lead him away.

“Hey Hermione. . .” Ron began, stumbling a bit over his words.

'One last chance,' she thought, watching him expectantly. '10...9...'

“I was wondering... ummm.. well, that it is...”

'6...5.. 4...'

------

Across the room, Harry and Ginny swayed slowly in each other's arms. At first, they did not speak at all, instead they just stared into each other's eyes, communicating far more directly than they ever could with mere words. Not too long into their dance, though, Ginny's gaze drifted over his shoulder and her eyes widened. With a happy laugh, she spun him quickly so that he could see for himself. Under the gazebo, Hermione had Ron pinned to the pillar and was kissing him fiercely. “You go, Hermione,” Harry muttered happily under his breath. Ginny just giggled and rested her head against his chest.

“Ginny,” Harry said quietly, “there's so much I need to tell you, and probably quite a bit of groveling and begging.” He felt her head nod on his chest and could clearly visualize the smile on her face. “But, to be perfectly honest, I feel like I've talked more tonight than I have in the last six years and I'm just too tired.”

She looked up at him fondly, still wearing that wicked smile. “Tomorrow then, but don't think you'll get out of it, Potter. You're mine, now.”

“I promise,” Harry replied happily. As his girlfriend laid her head back down against him, he added, “You know, I think I like weddings.” Ginny just laughed and whispered, “Join the club.”

-----------------------

The final chapter. I had planned a follow-up story, but the planned fluff fit perfectly into this one, so I just went where the story took me. I don't think it needs any more at this point, but if lots of folks disagree, I'll reconsider. I hope you've enjoyed it. At first, I was unsure about continuing what had originally been planned as a one-shot about Harry and Hermione, but in the end, I'm glad I did. Big props to my wife, Heather, for all her help with this last chapter. It was the hardest to write and really benefited from her female insights.