Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and names, they belong to J.K.Rowling.
*****
Autumn was drawing to a close, and the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were spending more and more time in their common rooms, huddled around the nearest fireplace.
On one such chilly afternoon, Harry and Ron found themselves surrounded by a month’s worth of Defense Against the Dark Arts notes, each trying to complete a two foot long essay on the best method to deal with an unruly Demiguise. Hermione, meanwhile, sat contentedly to one side, having finished the essay the previous week.
“Come on, Hermione,” coaxed Harry, “you know you want to show us your homework!”
Hermione snorted scornfully.
“Yes Harry, because the past has proven me to be that easy to fool,” she said, sarcastically.
Ron moaned in despair.
“Two feet! You have to agree that that’s just verging on the ridiculously insane!”
“We were given two weeks, Ronald. If you would just learn to plan ahead a little…”
Ron threw her a sulky look, but it was Harry who replied.
“You know us better than that, Hermione,” he grinned.
“And you know me better than to think I’ll let you copy mine,” she fired back, a satisfied smile on her face.
Harry sighed in defeat, and turned his attention back to the blank page in front of him.
After ten minutes of silence, however, Hermione began to get bored. As she had finished reading all of her books, and Ginny was nowhere to be seen, she slid along the sofa and peered over Ron’s shoulder at his introduction.
Tutting quietly, she pointed to a line of scraggly handwriting.
“The Demiguise is native to the Far East, Ron, not Eastern Europe.”
Ron turned to frown at her.
“If you’re not going to help properly Hermione, then don’t interfere,” he snapped, turning back to his work.
Hermione turned a pinkish-red and opened her mouth to reply, but Harry, sensing another argument, spoke up before she could utter a word.
“It’s okay, Hermione, you know he doesn’t mean it,” here he paused to throw a scathing look at Ron, before continuing, “this essay is just stressful, especially at six o’clock on a Sunday afternoon!”
She sighed wearily, feeling the pressure of Harry’s pleading gaze.
“Fine. Look, I’m not going to give you the essay, because that would be cheating. But I did condense my notes, and they’ll be much easier for you to work from than that mess,” she gestured towards the haphazard piles of books and parchment.
Harry grinned.
“Cheers, Hermione. We owe you one!”
Ron, too, was looking decidedly happier.
“I’m pretty certain the notes are still in my bag. Now hold on…where did I leave it?” she muttered to herself, searching the common room with her eyes. Harry searched under the chairs nearby, trying to spot what could potentially be the source of a good evening.
“Wait! I know where I left it,” she smiled, feeling rather foolish. Without thinking, she leaned across Ron to the arm of the sofa, around which was hooked her schoolbag.
Suddenly, Hermione became aware that she was now leaning heavily across Ron’s lap. Slowly she sat upright, taking in Ron’s flushed cheeks and strange expression. Her gaze locked with his and there was a long moment’s silence, even from Harry. The tension was broken when a familiar voice came from just in front of them.
“Hi guys!” Ginny flashed them a grin, before settling herself down on the floor next to Harry. “What’s going on?”
Ron cleared his throat and Hermione sat back against the sofa, with a look on her face that he could not interpret.
“Homework,” he began falteringly, tearing his gaze away from Hermione’s expression, “Defense Against the Dark Arts, you know the drill.”
“Ah, I see. You two leave it to the last minute again, hmm? Honestly Hermione, I don’t know why you put up with them!” she grinned and gave Harry a playful cuff on the arm.
Hermione, however, was in a very peculiar mood, as she replied, “Nor do I, Ginny.”
She stood up abruptly, and said to no one in particular, “I’m going to bed.”
Harry looked puzzled.
“But Hermione, it’s only a quarter past six!”
“Right. Well I’ll just go upstairs then…” she replied, and walked purposefully away towards the girls’ dormitory.
Harry and Ron exchanged a confused look, but Ginny had an expression of dawning comprehension written on her face.
“Gin…” Ron began, but she cut him off.
“I’m going up too. I’ll talk to you two in the morning,” and with that she followed Hermione up the staircase.
“What the…?” Ron muttered to himself, glancing at Harry’s bemused expression.
“Girls,” his friend said, simply.
“Yeah,” he replied, “girls.”
*****
When Ginny entered the girls’ dormitory, Hermione was sitting on her bed, scribbling furiously in her diary.
“Hi Hermione,” Ginny said, when her friend failed to notice she was there.
Hermione started, and finally noticed Ginny standing in front of her.
“Oh, hi, Ginny. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she said with forced brightness, slamming the book shut hastily.
Ginny sat down on the edge of the bed and looked curiously at Hermione.
“So what’s going on?” she enquired.
“Going on? Nothing’s going on. Why do you ask?”
“Oh come on Hermione, you’re not talking to Ron and Harry here. I know something’s bothering you, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what it is.”
Hermione stared at her in silence for a minute, but then her expression changed and she let out a heavy sigh.
“It’s your brother, actually,” she said, absent-mindedly tracing the pattern on the bedspread with her finger.
“Now how did I know it would be about Ron?” Ginny said, smiling. “What’s the idiot done now?”
“It’s not really like that. He hasn’t done anything. Which I suppose is part of the problem…” she trailed off.
“Oh…I see,” Ginny grinned; she had already guessed that this was coming.
Hermione glanced up and, seeing the look on her friend’s face, backtracked hastily.
“Don’t look at me like that Ginny, I didn’t mean it like that. I just - I don’t know what’s going on inside his head. He confuses me, I suppose.”
Ginny laughed, provoking a frown from Hermione.
“Yeah right, Hermione. He’s a boy. You can’t seriously expect to understand his thought process? That is, if he even has one…I wouldn’t be surprised if all you could find in Ron’s head was a picture of a roast dinner!”
Hermione laughed. Ginny was right. Then, remembering her worries from before, she groaned in frustration.
“I just wish I knew, once and for all, if “ I mean “ what’s going on in there. Then I could spend less time obsessing over…it,” she finished, glancing at Ginny.
“If you really want, I could talk to him. I’ve been known to be pretty persuasive, so if he’s hiding something, I’ll get it out of him.”
Hermione smiled.
“Thanks Ginny, you’re a great friend.”
“I know, I know,” she said, with an exaggerated sigh, “the things I do for you!”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t ask, it’s just - well Ron’s just such a “ such a boy!”
Ginny giggled, and together they gave an exasperated groan, “Boys!”
*****
Ginny didn’t approach her brother until after Quidditch practice, after waiting until everyone else was heading back up to the castle.
“Hey, Ron,” she smiled, helping him pack up the balls.
Ron raised his eyebrow and smiled at her. They had been playing quidditch together for over an hour, and she says “hey” now?
“Hi Ginny,” he replied, shaking his head in puzzlement.
“Practice went well today,” she continued.
“Yeah, we’re finally getting to a standard I’m happy with,” Ron grinned, proud of his team.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, suddenly.
“We are talking, Gin,” he laughed.
“Right. But I mean about something other than Quidditch?”
“Fire away,” Ron smiled at her, strapping the last bludger into place in the Quidditch chest.
“It’s about Hermione,” she began.
Ron froze, and turned to look at her, carefully controlling his expression.
“What about her? Is she ok?” he asked, moving to sit next to Ginny.
“Oh she’s fine. It’s nothing like that.”
Ron breathed a small sigh of relief, then frowned.
“Then what’s this about?” he asked.
Ginny took a deep breath, then turned to face Ron, careful to look casual.
“What’s going on with you two?”
Ron’s cheeks flushed, but he remained composed.
“What do you mean?”
“The other day in the common room. I thought I saw a ‘moment’ there,” she said, smiling as though she were gently teasing him.
“Me and Hermione?” he snorted with laughter, “I don’t think so!”
“Are you sure? Because something strange is going on…” she raised an eyebrow.
“Is it really, little sister?”
“Yes. Call it a woman’s intuition,” she smiled.
“Well this time your ‘intuition’ has gone awry, because me and Hermione are just friends,” he said emphatically, desperately trying to will the colour from his cheeks.
“No Ron, you and Harry are ‘just friends’. You and Hermione, well that’s a whole other kettle of fish!”
Ron laughed at the phrase; she sounded just like their mother.
“You’re jumping to conclusions, Gin. Honestly, there is nothing between me and Hermione.”
Ginny frowned as she scrutinised his expression.
“I don’t believe you, Ronald Weasley,” she decided, crossing her arms and looking strict.
Ron groaned. He had to persuade Ginny that she was wrong. He knew that if she convinced herself that she was on to something, she would tell Hermione straight away. Ron couldn’t face Hermione knowing the truth. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he knew how to convince his sister.
“Look Gin, I don’t see Hermione in that way. Maybe once, in fourth year or something, I may have fooled myself into thinking there was something else there, but I was wrong. And anyway, I can’t like Hermione, because I like someone else,” he finished triumphantly, before frantically searching his brain for someone to like.
Ginny’s eyes widened.
“Really? Who? Come on Ron, you have to tell me now!” she protested.
Ron stood up and grinned. His plan was working.
“Sorry Gin, no can do. That’s private information. I’m not telling anyone until I tell her.”
And with that, he strode off towards the castle, a satisfied smile on his face, with no idea of what he had just inadvertently done.
*****