She was laughing again, and sometimes, even though I felt guilty afterwards, I wondered if the only reason they were together was so that they could laugh.
It was getting dark but none of us made a move to get up. Mum - after many tears and insisting that we stay the night there at the Burrow - had already gone to bed, leaving us “children” to think about our newly departed children. It had been hours since we came back from King Cross station and Bill, Percy, and George had already gone home, leaving only Ron and I with our families. I was just about to ask where the kids had run off to, when we heard a squeal coming from upstairs. Before I could get up to do some scolding, the situation was quickly eased.
“Hugo!” Hermione screeched, her light mood now completely gone. “Leave your cousin alone, or I swear you won’t be going to Hogwarts next year or ever!”
My dear brother Ron winced and in a way I was pleased. If Hugo was like his father was during our school years, Lily would make him pay dearly. I couldn’t help but grin a little.
I heard a light chuckle to my left and looked over to see Harry roll his eyes at his best friend’s antics. Pretty soon we were all laughing again causing a wave of nostalgia to fill my every being, warming me. I cuddled underneath my husband’s arm and looked across the room to my brother and his wife, once again being overcome with my secret thoughts. I love my brother - really, I do - but I know him and I know Hermione, and by nature, people are always curious. It amazed me how such small things could impact an entire life and no matter how much you loved someone, you couldn’t help but wonder what could have been… or what never would be…
~~
I saw the way her eyes widened the moment she saw him across the platform and how quickly she had covered it up. I found this very odd for I rarely saw Hermione lose her composure like that. Not to say she never has, only that she was very good at hiding it. I, however, could always see it.
I smiled about it now, but during my first years at Hogwarts I felt a childish loathing towards her, eventually realizing that my jealousy blinded me from seeing what a remarkable person she truly was. I still remembered the joy I felt the day I figured out her feelings for my brother and that her relationship with Harry was and always would be platonic. I supposed I should be thankful for my envy because without it, I probably would have been glaring at her for looking at him the way she did in that small, hidden moment. I probably would not have watched her in those years and not known what I did now. I wouldn’t have understood her and I wouldn’t have one more thing to share secretly with her.
Many things made sense in that moment, memories and conversations that I had long forgotten. One in particular stood out, buried away for years, hazy but clear as glass when I took it out to finally see it with open eyes.
It was her fifth year - my fourth - when we formed Dumbledore’s Army . I was excited and scared to be part of something so important and Harry was no longer a huge part of my romantic life. I was walking to another one of our secret meetings in the Room of Requirement, looking around cautiously for any of Umbridge’s minions, when I heard two voices in the corridor ahead of me. As I got closer, I recognized one of the voices instantly. I began to walk faster, my wand already in my hand ready to hex the balls off of a certain unpleasant individual. But when I reached the end, I was frozen by the unusual scene in front of me.
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were standing near the far wall glaring at each other, only a foot of distance separating them.
“You think I’m an idiot, don’t you, Granger?” Malfoy asked with his trademark sneer, his gray eyes cold and harsh. Hermione did not move an inch.
“I don’t think, I know,” she replied snidely.
I was glued to the spot, unable to move or even think. Malfoy didn’t even blink at her remark, almost as if he hadn’t heard her at all. This surprised me because everyone knew that Malfoy didn’t know when to shut up. I was fascinated by them, like I was intruding on a private moment but I couldn’t look away. Both of them still stood motionless, neither saying a word. Finally, Malfoy took a step forward leaving only a few inches in between them.
“I know you’re up to something, you and your Potter and his followers.” His lips curled into conniving smirk.
“Then do something about it. You have the power to stop us.” She looked down pointedly at the silver badge on his robe. “I’m sure Umbridge is due for some ass-kissing today.”
This wiped the arrogant smirk right off his face and all he could do was stare at Hermione with mild disbelief. I would have smiled at Hermione’s boldness or at the look on Malfoy’s face, but again the awkward feeling was clouding my normal judgment. I still couldn’t place what was wrong with the whole situation. My hand was now painfully clutching my wand as realization slowly crept through me…
I had never seen Hermione or Malfoy this close in my entire life. Their wands were not drawn and for some reason their exchange of words had not been full of malice. If I didn’t know that they hated each other, I would have thought they were… no, no, they would never be that. There was so much tension in the air that it was almost tangible, and again I found it hard to breathe, my heartbeat continuing to speed up. I had the powerful urge to break them apart, yell at them, hex them, anything to get those unbelievable thoughts from my mind. I was young, yes, but I was seeing what not even they themselves saw. I didn’t know why I did nothing, it was as if I was supposed to see it and let it happen. Funny how life was like that, allowing us to watch a tragedy with no reaction…
Seconds, minutes, maybe years passed as I still stood there at the end of the corridor watching Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy stare at each other with probably every emotion in existence. Malfoy, if possible, stepped closer to Hermione who didn’t step back or stop him. The emotional battle had now ended as both only looked at each other in a way that only they could share. His head began to lower and she placed her hand on his chest, resting it against his robes. My jaw dropped, nearly hitting the ground, yet my eyes only opened wider, ready to take in what was about to happen… most likely to my grave…
And like that it was over.
Something must have happened… I’m still not completely sure. One second their heads were getting closer and the next they jumped away from each other as if burned, tainted by some invisible disease they believed the other carried. Another eternity passed as they only shared faces of absolute shock. Blinking dumbly, I tried to rationalize that I was catatonic or traumatized or I had died or I had dreamed the whole thing up. All I could hear was my heartbeat thundering loudly in my ears and their harsh breaths cutting through the thick air.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” Malfoy croaked, breaking us all out of our impaired states, “for wandering the corridors after curfew.” With a swirl of his dark robes, he was gone.
Hermione was rooted to her place against the wall for many minutes after he left. Slowly, she brought her hand up towards her face, her brow furrowing at something I could not see. She finally clamped her hand around it and walked away.
I stood alone in the deserted hallway for a long time afterwards. I never did make it to the meeting, telling Ron the next day at breakfast that I had not felt well enough to attend. I never found out if Hermione had gone, either. She acted completely normal after that, not giving a single hint of the many incidents that occurred when she was not around Ron or Harry, so I pushed it away, covering it up to never be found again.
~~
My eyes opened to the sound of familiar voices. Harry was stroking my hair as my head laid in his lap; I must have fallen asleep and not noticed. The trio - despite almost twenty years of jobs and families, they are still called that - were talking about their adventures, both past and present. I yawned and closed my eyes again, listening to their stories, many of which I was not part of. It didn’t bother me though, I have many of my own.
They were talking about him now and I rolled my eyes inwardly at Harry’s hairline comment. Ron laughed but obviously he did not look at himself in the mirror. I opened my eyes to see Hermione looking at Ron in that appreciative and loving way she does. She looked down at her hands and I knew what she was thinking about. I waited until she felt my stare on her, looking at me in confusion, and it was then that I smiled at her.
~~
“So, you glad you took the day off?” I asked, as I laid lazily on the balcony chair.
“Believe it or not, but I really am.”
It took a lot of convincing to get Hermione Granger-Weasley to take the day off. She would no doubt soon become head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but the woman needed a break, and so did I. We were sitting leisurely on her bedroom balcony, drinking tea and letting the autumn sun warm us up. I waited until she was completely relaxed to take out the small box hidden underneath my chair. We were entirely alone and I knew that it was the only way I could get her to talk about it. I took out the velvet box, placed it on the glass table and cleared my throat loudly.
“What’s that?” Hermione asked, setting her cup down on the table.
The box was a deep burgundy, tattered along the edges, yet still quite pretty. I had had it since I was thirteen, filling it with trinkets and little mementos from throughout my life. It was very special to me, and this was the first time anyone besides myself would take a look at the things inside.
“This is my memory box,” I tapped the top lightly with my hand as I looked deeply into Hermione’s brown eyes, so similar to my own. “I figured with us gals having the entire day to ourselves we could… you know, be girls.”
She lifted a thin eyebrow at me and a smirk graced her slender face. “Why do I get the feeling that you had this all planned out?”
I grinned back. “My, my, why Miss Granger, I can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Never.”
I shrugged. “Do you want to, or not?”
She grinned. “Of course.”
“All right then.” I lifted the top and rummaged through a few letters, photos, and medals, until I found three specific items at the bottom. I couldn’t help getting excited as I looked up at her, so I took out the first item - a purple rose with a box for petals and a plastic stem. I opened the top revealing two small earrings. “Dean Thomas gave me this for Valentine’s Day back in fifth year.”
I took out the earrings and put them on. Hermione laughed graciously. “Those aren’t real diamonds, are they?”
“No, of course not. But they are nice, right?” I tucked my hair behind my ears, modeling them to an imaginary audience. “I didn’t like to wear them because I thought I would lose them.”
“That’s sweet. I didn’t know Dean was like that.”
“He was very sweet,” I agreed.
I set the fake rose on the table next to the box and took out the next item - a faux snow-flake. “This is one of the decorations from the Yule Ball. I -”
“Wait, is that where you met -”
“Michael Corner, yes.” I smiled widely. “I don’t know why I took it, but I really liked him that night and I wanted something to remember it by.”
“Thief.”
I stuck my tongue out at her playfully. “So,” I said carefully, “do you have anything you saved from your old boyfriends?”
She raised her eyebrows at me in surprise. “Ron was my only real boyfriend.”
“Well, what about crushes and dates?”
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, nibbling at her bottom lip. “I have a few things.”
She began to get up, but I quickly reached out to grab her hand. “Wait,” I nearly shouted, “I’m not finished showing you what I have. I want you to see this last thing first.”
She frowned and sat back down quietly.
I hesitated as I placed my hands back inside the box. I looked down at the object in my hands. It was still clean, immaculate just like its previous owner. I ran my finger across it and gave a small smile, hoping that it would grant me my secret wish. I took it out and placed it directly in front of her. She gasped.
“What - ?” she rasped, finding it difficult to articulate words as she looked at the green and silver tie. “How… who… ?”
“It’s Blaise Zabini’s,” I said plainly.
Her head whipped so fast to face me that her hair fell out of its messy bun on top of her head, her mouth hanging completely open. “Zabini’s?” she asked disbelievingly.
“The one and only.”
“Bu-but… you and him… I mean… when?” she sputtered.
I took a moment to take this all in. It was a rare occasion - speechless Hermione Granger.
“Eh, it was a brief thing. He was high and mighty, arrogant little prick, but he was gorgeous. It was after a Quidditch practice and he had flirted with me before… and we just sort of… kissed.”
Her eyes looked ready to bulge out of her head. “You snogged Blaise Zabini?”
“It was only once.”
“But you snogged Zabini!”
I nodded. “Yes… yes I did.”
She shook her head making her hair fly wildly and amazingly, she grinned. “Ginny Weasley, you are a vixen!”
I shrugged modestly. “Had to be in order to snag that delicious Harry Potter.”
We laughed for about ten minutes straight until my sides felt like they were about to burst. I hadn’t seen Hermione this carefree in months. I almost dreaded what I was about to ask. “So, is there some dirty secrets you would like to share with me now?”
Hermione’s laugh died instantly. She quickly took a sip of her tea before standing up gracefully. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured.
I don’t know how long I sat there waiting for her. The same feeling that had taken me hostage so many years ago in that empty corridor was hovering over me again. Would Hermione admit such a thing to me? I would like to say that she and I were close, but not completely. Hermione was more closer to my husband than she was with me. Deep down, I wondered why I was doing this. Did I want her to be more open with me and share the ghosts of her past? Did I secretly want her have a vault of dirty deeds in that overly-capable mind of hers? What if she really had had a secret affair with Draco Malfoy? I would have shuddered years ago at the thought, but now it seemed risqué… almost… romantic… in a sickeningly tragic sort of way. My inner musings were interrupted when a silver box, smaller than my own, was placed gently on the table next to mine.
“I don’t have much,” Hermione said. “In fact, I only have a few things.”
She took off the top. Inside were a few letters I automatically knew were from Viktor Krum.
“Viktor and I kept correspondence for a couple of years after we met,” she said, gesturing to the letters inside. She blushed lightly. “I still look in from time to time at Quidditch Weekly to see what his standing is.”
I gave her a small nod, silently begging her to continue.
She frowned, no doubt debating internally whether to tell me or not. She took a deep breath. “I have something else.” She paused and took my hand, looking straight into my eyes. “Ginny, you must promise me to never tell a soul about what we’re about to talk about. I’ve never admitted this to anyone.”
I swallowed hard and suddenly I had the urge to cry. “You can trust me. I confided in you with something I had not told anyone before, either.”
Hermione nodded before reaching in to grab what I assumed was a tiny object wrapped inside a black cloth. She delicately placed it on the table and unwrapped it. Now it was my turn for my mouth to hang open as the sunlight reflected against the small object.
It was a badge… a silver, Slytherin prefect badge.
I blinked, needing to make sure it wasn’t an illusion. I coughed lightly before I calmly spoke. “I can only remember two Slytherin prefects in your year.” I took a quick sip of my tea. “And for some reason, I doubt you would be keeping anything that had belonged to Pansy Parkinson.”
I looked up and saw that Hermione wasn’t looking at me but at the field laying beautifully at the back of her house. The edge was lined with giant oak trees that made a stark contrast against the soft blue sky. I never imagined her to live away from a city, yet at the same time, I couldn’t picture her living anywhere else.
“Nothing ever happened between us,” she whispered. “It was always the same… trading insults, angry glares, our prejudices thrown in our face. Sometimes it would hurt. Though, mainly, it made me extremely angry.”
She wouldn’t say his name. I wanted her to.
“Contrary to what most of you believe, there were many times during school that we were civil with each other. Most of time, however, we spent it in competition, whether it be in insults, marks, or presence. We always tried to prove ourselves to the other and for a long time I didn’t understand why. He treated me differently when we were by ourselves or around other people than he did when I was with Ron or Harry. Don’t misunderstand and think that that meant he treated me nicely, no. I mean that it was… different.” She was still looking away in the distance. “Almost… in a twisted way, almost like… an equal.”
We were both frowning now, me finally giving up and watching the trees with her. I was oddly fascinated by it. Really, there was nothing interesting about it.
“I would sometimes catch him watching me curiously, and it would piss me off because I thought maybe he thought I was some sort of specimen that needed to be studied, so I did the same thing, and watched him. I never thought that by doing that silent revenge I would become intrigued and…” she paused and I think she wanted to shudder, “… be attracted to him.”
She was silent again and I thought maybe she wasn’t going to tell me how she ended up with his prefect badge. It didn’t matter, though, I already knew.
