You've guessed it: it ain't mine

You've guessed it: it ain't mine.

So, here's another HP fanfic. Very off-key, probably, but just go with it, ok?


It hurts her. It hurts her, every time he calls here a know-it-all, every time he shouts at her. She has an idea of why, but doesn't want to think about it. The countless number of insults from Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson somehow hurt much less. They were just pathetic. Ron wasn't. Hermione knew she was a know-it-all. She knows she better ought to not say things out loud, but she can't always help it. It makes thing back to normal. Every time she finds herself staring at him, at his bright red hair or his clear blue eyes, she loses her head. It scares her. She has never lost her head before at the mere sight of someone's eyes or hair. She is not sure she wants to lose her heads just yet. So she happily joins in a conversation which is bound to end in an heated argument, glad things somehow turn back to normal. And when she storms up her dormitory, panting and very angry, she feels a strange satisfaction. When she curls up in her bed, rocks herself forth and back and cries silently in her pillow, a small part in her doesn't mind crying, doesn't mind the arguments.

Hermione can read the signs she is giving off. She knows why she loses her head when she sees him, when her heart suddenly stops for a split second, why she feels so odd at times. She knows why she has dreams about him and why her mind sometimes wanders off while she pretends to look in her books. But she doesn't want to acknowledge it. It opens a whole new world – a world mostly unfamiliar to her. Her experiences with Viktor are nothing compared to what she feels now. Viktor was mainly a try-out, someone she was too afraid of hurting to admit she didn't care for him as he seemed to care for her. He was nice, but not her type. Her heart already belonged to someone else back then, although she wasn't much aware of that at the time. But now she was, at least more, and she couldn't stop herself hoping – hoping that he saw her as more than "just friends". It was what she hoped – that he would admit he liked her, too, maybe even loved her, and they could spend times together. Different times, closer times. Being a friend was great, but sometimes she felt a desperate urge to run up at him, run her hands through his hair, touch him.

As time passed, she found herself staring more than ever, dreaming more than ever. Harry and Ron both seemed to think something was wrong with her – but she couldn't tell them what. Not even Harry, whom she trusted with her whole heart. Harry would keep silent, she knew that much, but things wouldn't be the same if she told. So she shut up, told nobody – not even Ginny, Ron's sister and a good friend.

After another row with Ron, about his schoolwork, she ran up her dormitory in tears. This argument had been worse than ever – not in words, but in how it made her feel. There wasn't a part in her mind that was satisfied now. She just felt immensely sad.
Hermione was glad neither Parvati nor Lavender were in their dormitory. Their giggles about boys and looks made her feel nervous. Hermione did not much care about her looks. She couldn't understand why Parvati and Lavender did, when there was so many more important things in the world. But she didn't say it out loud. Parvati and Lavender had more knowledge on some subjects, and sometimes Hermione found it useful to listen to their whispered conversations.
Now, however, she was glad neither of them were up to shot her nervous glances and offering to comfort her. She didn't want any of that. She just wanted to curl up in her bed and cry her eyes out for that insensitive arse called Ronald Weasley.
She faced the wall next to her bed and seized her pillow, pulling it in a hug. For a long time she cried, not able to control her sobs. Ron had hurt her so much, and she couldn't even tell why. Hermione had said that he and Harry should get a move with their homework. After all, exams were just a few weeks away and both of them had reason to worry for some subjects. Harry sighed, as he usually did, and said wearily that they had time. Hermione worried about him. He seemed paler than usual and a worried look dominated his eyes. She could think of some things that bothered him, but she wouldn't ask unless he told.

She knew that she sometimes pushed things too far. Boys didn't talk like girls did – she knew that all too well. Sometimes she just needed a girl responding, and for that she was grateful to have met Ginny. However, at times she wished she could talk to Harry and Ron like she could to Ginny, and found herself asking things they didn't want to answer. It was a bad habit, she knew it was, but she couldn't always help it.

She also knew shouldn't be bothering them with lectures about their homework, like she had done today. But something just snapped in her when she saw the two of them together, playing chess and talking lazily, while they had so much more to do.

A door softly opened behind her. Hermione stiffened, still facing the wall. This didn't sound like Parvati or Lavender. They were louder, more giggly, and only one person had entered the room. She continued to lay how she was, not wanting to show her tears to whoever was in the room. Maybe she was just looking for something, Hermione thought hopefully. Not for her. But she felt the unmistakable feeling of her mattress going a few inches deeper, indicating someone had sat down on it. She felt a hand tentatively sliding over her hair.

It was Ginny. Relieved, Hermione relaxed. Ginny was fine, Ginny could see her tears. She turned around slowly and looked in the familiar face. Freckles were all over Ginny's face, making her look cute and yet mature. Her brown eyes faced Hermione worriedly.
"Oh, Ginny," Hermione sighed. She couldn't tell his sister, could she?
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, still a bit hesitantly.
"I – It's..." Hermione couldn't stop herself and dissolved into tears again. Ginny pushed her against her and rocked her forwards and backwards.
"Shhh", she said, stroking Hermione's hair. "It's okay, I'm here for you."
They sat like that for what seemed a long time, until Hermione's sobs subsided and she could control herself a bit more. With her head on Ginny's shoulder, she said: "I'm sorry, Gin... I just couldn't stay down there."
"With Ron?" Ginny asked softly. She disentangled herself from Hermione and looked her straight in the eye. Hermione avoided her eyes. "Oh Ginny, I know he is your brother, but he can be so stupid!"
Ginny laughed, her eyes twinkling and a little less worried.
"I know, I've lived with him for fifteen years", she said lightly. Then her tone became more serious.
"What happened?" Hermione looked at her. She really wanted to know. She didn't act in a kind of obliged way, like Parvati and Lavender, but in a way showing interest in Hermione's story. "They were sitting there again, talking and laughing and playing chess, and I knew neither of them had finished their essay on necessary Potion ingredients, or their article on Goblins, or their drawing of a unicorn, and I just wanted to help them, but he got all angry and said I should mind my own business, and I just couldn't stand being there anymore, with both of them staring at me as if I were their enemy, while he- " Hermione broke off, realizing she was talking to the sister of "him".

Ginny just looked at Hermione, and then simply said: "When are you going to admit it?" Hermione felt her face go red.
"Admit what?" she said, rather hoarsely.
"Oh, come on, you know it", Ginny said impatiently. "Just say you like him. Clear the air, so we can talk on.
" "Who says I-", started Hermione, but Ginny cut through her. "I've seen it coming for years now, and neither of you seemed to realize it, to make a move! It's so obvious. I thought you, of all people, would see it. But – well, I can't blame you, but you never said a thing about it, though I went hinting all about. I'm fine with it, you know", she added when she saw the look on Hermione's face. "I don't own him, or something. And I would like seeing my friend and my brother together.
" "Would you?" Hermione said. She felt that her cheeks were very red now.
"Yes. Better you than – Madam Rosmerta, to name someone", Ginny said with a small smile.
"Madam Rosmerta?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Do you think he likes-"
"Oh, Hermione", Ginny said rather impatiently. "He doesn't. He likes YOU."

Hermione's mouth fell open. She had hoped for it, but it wasn't true – it couldn't be true. How could Ron like the one he always quarrelled with? Well, you quarrel with him, too, don't you? And you like him, too, don't you? a small voice in her head said.
"Why... How..." "That's the way love goes, dear", Ginny said, a small blush creeping up her face now. "I can't see why either, frankly-"
She ducked when Hermione hit her with her pillow and pushed Hermione backwards, onto her bed.
"But seriously", she said, when they both had stopped laughing and sat up again, "you should go on. Make a move. I know Ron; he's going to wait forever. Always the gentleman, my brother", she grimaced. "I can't", Hermione said. "Harry – we promised to take care of him, keep an eye on him. If we... you know... I don't think we would still do that."
Ginny suddenly looked aware at the mention of Harry. "I will keep an eye on him for you", she said, blushing.
"Ah", Hermione said. "Still?"
"Still", Ginny confirmed. She looked Hermione in the eye.
"And you and Ron have a chance. You both like each other. Don't deny it", she said, responding to Hermione's sceptical look, "I know it. Really, I know my brother. You can go on, you know. I don't even know Harry likes me." She blinked away the tears that were starting to appear.

"Oh, Ginny", Hermione said. She reached over and touched Ginny's knee. "I'm sure he likes you, too. Or at least noticed you. In fact..." she thought back at how odd Harry's behaviour had been the last couple of weeks and frowned.
"What?" Ginny said hopefully.
"Well, Harry has been acting rather strangely lately", Hermione started. "Absent-mindedly, and he sighs much more, and sometimes avoids to look at me. I don't know if... but it does make sense... Ginny!"
"No", Ginny said. "You can't tell me now – do you think?"
"Yes, I do!" Hermione shrieked. "It makes perfect sense! His absent way of behaving lately... His glances around the Common Room... His reaction to Ron talking about his family..."
Ginny looked beyond happy. "So... you really think so?" she asked to be sure.
"Well, I'm not sure", Hermione said, a small crease appearing between her brows. "But it could be... And if it were-" Hermione's eyes suddenly widened, "-that would be so great! I would be family!"
"Wow", said Ginny, laughing relieved now. "Don't push it that far just yet, please. And what about you? We have to do something before getting all excited."
"Oh, don't spoil it", Hermione said, but her eyes glinted and a happy smile spread across her face. "We can dream!"
And that's what they did.

Okay, the ending is really cheesy, I know. I have a problem with endings.