Beautiful Words

"She did what?!"

"She broke up with me," Ron said miserably, his head sinking behind his hands. His sister looked down at him, crumpled on his bedroom floor with a mixture of sympathy and shock. She bent down and pulled Ron's head to her body.

"It's not worth it, Ron," Ginny affirmed. "Not worth making you feel like this."

"I love her," Ron mumbled, pushing his face into Ginny's sweater, dampening it with tears.

"I know," Ginny sighed, stroking his hair but still feeling her anger simmering below the surface. "I know. Did she say why?"

"Kind of," Ron muttered, messily wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He looked up at Ginny sadly. He felt so grateful that his little sister was here for him in a way he'd never imagined. She was always just his little sister. Now she was here, mothering him and probably ready to tear lumps out of the girl in question. He had never realised just how much being family meant. They could hate each other, hex each other but they'd still be there for each other when they needed it.

"So what did she say?" Ginny urged, using her own sleeve to dry Ron's face properly.

"She--She likes someone else," Ron forced out, feeling his own skin tremble to admit it out loud.

"Hermione's been cheating on you with some other guy?!" Ginny roared, making Ron flinch. "How could she? I thought I knew her better than that!"

"No, no," Ron shook his head, terrified of what Ginny would be capable of if she got the wrong idea. "She hasn't. She just likes someone. That isn't me."

"Merlin, Ron," Ginny whispered, holding her brother close. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Ron sighed. Ginny held him like his mother had when he was a child. The comfort and the warmth was all he really thought could possibly sustain him when he was hurting this much. Although usually he was too manly to admit it.

"Does Harry know?" Ginny asked, easing Ron up from the floor and onto his bed.

"Yeah. He's with Hermione just now. She was upset and ran off some where. So he followed her," Ron said soberly.

"Why was she upset?" Ginny asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"I said some horrible things..." Ron swallowed, shaking his head. "Really horrible."

"She'll understand why," Ginny soothed. "You were hurt, and angry and shocked..."

"I know but not this. I wouldn't be surprised if she never speaks to me again," Ron sighed.

"She will."

"She won't," Ron shook his head, furiously. He jumped up suddenly. "I have to go find her."

Before he got any further, Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Years of muggle style wrestling with her older brothers had given her a strange upper body strength that surprised even Ron.

"No. She's with Harry," she told Ron firmly, sitting him back down. "What did you say to her anyway?"

"I... I... No, it was horrible, I can't tell you," Ron said, feeling stabs of regret and shame in his stomach.

"Come on," Ginny urged gently.

"I called her a M-Mudblood whore," Ron stammered, turning from Ginny so he couldn't see her expression.

"Oh, Ron," Ginny grunted. "That's harsh."

"I was just so angry and hurt, I just wanted to make her feel something," Ron groaned, covering his face.

"Look, I'm going to go find Hermione, and I'll get Harry to come up here, all right?" Ginny decided. "Where's your broom?"

"Under my bed," Ron mumbled into his hands.

Ginny pulled Ron's broom from under his bed and opened his window. She stepped out of it carefully, trying to hold her balance on the roof. She mounted the broom and kicked off quickly. She knew that if her mum saw her doing this she would lecture her endlessly. Not so much lecture as screech warnings, threats and consequences constantly at her, possibly for hours. I'd take the Cruciatus over that any day, Ginny mused.

She flew over her mother in the garden and scanned the area for any sign of Harry and Hermione. She weaved through the trees of the forest nearby, expecting to find them huddled under a tree. Suddenly, she remembered last year in Hogwarts when Hermione and Ron had argued, she found her later down at the lake. She said water soothed her when she was upset or worried or frustrated.

Annoyed she hadn't thought of this sooner, Ginny grunted and started her ascent. She pulled up her broom, soaring above the trees and dove right. There was a small, peaceful stream not far from the Burrow. She and Hermione had spent the day there last summer, reading books and eating berries from the bushes. They hadn't surfaced until Molly Weasley had sent Bill, Arthur and Ron to find them. They were all frantic, assuming the worst. Her dad found them, and doubled over in relief immediately. Ginny smiled to herself as she remembered lamely shrugging at her father and saying that they hadn't realised where the time went. As weak as the excuse sounded, it was perfectly true.

-

The day had been perfect. They watched fish jump in and out of the stream and Hermione had to explain to Ginny that they weren't magical at all. Ginny marvelled at how plain creatures could be wonderful, even without the magic.

Ginny and Hermione sat with their backs against the tree and were occasionally showered with blossom. They read the favourite passages of their books aloud to each other. Hermione started reading text books for next year. She always liked to read them before term so she could study the additional and more advanced books that she could get in Hogwarts library. Every time she found an interesting historical passage, she shared it with Ginny. Ginny listened intently, finding interest in the most mundane of events by the way Hermione described them.

Ginny, in turn, was reading muggle fiction books that Hermione had brought for her. The excitement with which Ginny recited beautifully written prose by Oscar Wilde made Hermione glow. Wilde had always been Hermione's favourite but she had no one to share him with. The Wizarding world didn't seem overly fond of muggle art and literature and this knowledge had pained Hermione.

In her former school, her classmates had made her a source of ridicule, simply for being intelligent and eager to learn. The girls weren't interested in Mary Shelley or George Bernard Shaw anymore than they were interested in bull fighting or their studies. The boys would play cruel tricks. They'd steal books out of her bag during class and hide them in the playground. They would watch her and laugh as a young, distraught Hermione tried to find her copy of James Joyce.

It was that day that Hermione knew she was different. After a frantic but fruitless search around all of the usual hiding places that the boys employed in their torment of her, she stood helplessly on the grass and willed herself not to cry.

She knew they were watching her but she didn't care.

Frustrated, she clenched her fists, gritted her teeth and screamed inside her head. I will not cry, I will not cry. I just want my book. All I want is my book. I want my book, I need my book. My book My book My book.

Hermione heard a sharp cry of pain from one of her tormenters and her eyes flew open. One of the main bullies, Robert, was sprawled on the muddy ground holding the back of his head. An object had hit him hard and then soared to the sky. Squinting up, Hermione tried to block out the sun with her hand to see which kind of noble bird it was that took vengeance on the mean boy for her. Then Hermione heard a dull thunk at her feet, like someone had thrown a rock. Looking down, she saw her Ulysses at her feet.

Curiously, she picked it up. She looked to the clear sky and then down at Robert who was pulling himself up. He turned away from her, red faced and covered in mud. He stomped away and his gang followed him. Hermione caressed the cover of the book lovingly, opening it to check that it was, in fact, hers. Her neat signature was in the bottom right corner of the title page. Amazed and bemused, Hermione hugged the book to her chest and walked off in search of a place to continue the story which had come willingly back to her.

This didn't stop the teasing, bullying and harassment that Hermione suffered. It just made them more careful next time. They substituted the names 'geek' and 'loser' for 'freak' and 'witch'. Hermione tried not to let it bother her, and didn't know of the future irony that the last insult quietly held. Instead, she consoled herself with prose, poetry and plays. She trusted in the beautiful words which appeared to separate her from every other normal child on the play ground.

She didn't have anyone or even the potential of having friends until two years later when her letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry arrived through her letter box. Even then, she didn't expect to find anyone who would even like her, much less stand beside her with friendship and love.

Hermione told Ginny this story on that perfect day by the stream. Ginny smiled sadly and squeezed Hermione's hand and told her she had friends now. As small as the gesture was, Hermione appreciated it no end and it spread a feeling of comfort and warmth through her body. Later, Ginny put her head in Hermione's lap to read as the dying sunlight crept through the trees and spilled onto her pages. She found shade lying on Hermione and Hermione found something in the close, intimate proximity of their bodies that she tried to push out of her mind.

After a spell, Ginny looked up at Hermione. Her face wasn't visible for the large book she was holding that gave Ginny shade.

"Hermione?"

Hermione laid her book to one side so she could see her friend.

"I'd like to read that book," Ginny said, chewing her lower lip. "The one they hid from you. The one you managed to call to you."

"Ulysses?"

"Yeah, that one. Could I?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled warmly. "I'll ask mum and dad to owl it when we get back to the Burrow."

"Thanks," Ginny grinned and returned to her book. Hesitantly, Hermione reached out and let her fingers graze Ginny's soft flaming red hair. When Ginny made no reaction one way or the other, Hermione wove her fingertips gently into the flames and carefully caressed them. Ginny looked up and smiled, enjoying having her hair played with and volunteered another section of her book. Hermione nodded encouragingly and Ginny read the chosen words on her page. As Ginny's voice flowed over the beautiful words, she made the prose sound like a wonderful incantation. To Hermione the result was better than magic.

-

As Ginny remembered that day, she missed two figures sitting under the same tree below her. Scolding herself back to reality, she focused on the task at hand. She hadn't realised she had let her broom climb so high. The stream barely looked like a significant trickle of water from where she was. Turning around, she put the broom into a fast dive. As the earth rapidly appeared closer and closer, Ginny saw two people she assumed to be Hermione and Harry sitting under the tree. She was only distracted for a moment but when she turned her attention back to landing, she was startled to see the ground only feet below her. She tugged on the broom immediately, urging it upwards but it was too late. Ginny's foot skimmed inches above the ground before she finally crash landed in a heap, the broom tumbling out of her reach.

Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes and made an attempt to move. She felt a sharp twinge of pain her lower back.

"Dammit!" She shrieked, frustrated with herself and the broom. "Ron's bloody broom!"

Hermione and Harry had come running as they had seen the quick flash of Ginny and heard the crash. Harry reached her first, and stood over her, surveying the damage.

"Ginny?" Harry asked gently. "Ginny, are you Ok? Can you move?"

"I've probably severed my bloody spine, DAMMIT!" Ginny screamed in irritation.

"Ginny, Ginny," Hermione gasped breathlessly, falling to her knees beside the red head. Her eyes frantically searched the body for any sign of injury or bleeding.

"RON!" Ginny roared, partly because of the pain and partly because of her fuelling temper with the situation. "Harry, I swear to God. That boy doesn't know a fast twig from an actual bloody racing broom."

Harry chuckled softly as he knew Ginny was fine. She just needed a minute to surpass her pain with anger.

"If you fly like that, we're never going to win against Slytherin this year," Harry joked.

"Harry!" Hermione said sharply, turning to face him. "How can you think of something as trivial as Quidditch when--"

"Hermione, she's fine," Harry said quietly with an amused expression. "She wouldn't be this anger if she was seriously hurt."

"Still, broom speed is all very well and good," Ginny grunted, forcing herself to sit up. She made a face when she felt her back throb slightly. "But when your broom corners like it's on rails and has an especially crappy braking charm you might as well take your wand, point it between your eyes and yell Avada Kedavra."

Hermione and Harry helped Ginny to her feet.

"It's that Cleansweep he got last year isn't it?" Ginny said through gritted teeth. Harry retrieved the broom from a few feet away and nodded. "Urg. The reactions on that piece of crap have barely changed since they were invented in 1926."

"You know a lot about brooms," Harry observed.

"A damn sight more than my brother does at any rate," Ginny muttered, limping slowly back and forwards, trying to walk off the pain. "I just hope he tries a Wronski Feint one day. And I'm there to see it."

Harry grinned at Hermione and he was sure he could see a flicker of a smile in return.

"So what are you doing crash landing here anyway?" Harry asked, trying to stifle a giggle. Ginny bent over and breathed deeply. She returned to her full height feeling less pain and smirked at Harry.

"We're playing tag team. You get to fly back to Ron on that death trap and I'll stay here with Hermione," Ginny said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Harry simply nodded and mounted the broom. He kicked off and shot into the air at an alarmingly speed as if to make a point.

"Idiot," Ginny scolded him. "He's used to his Firebolt. He's gonna go straight through the house when he tries to stop."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Hermione sniffed, drying her eyes discreetly. Ginny turned to her friend, remembering why she had come down here in the first place. Her face softened.

"And how are you?"

Hermione turned to Ginny, shaking her head and sighing. Hermione went back over to her place under the tree and sat down. Ginny eased herself down to her position beside the brunette. Her face twisted as she endured a small amount of pain. Resting there, they both watched the stream trickle and flow along its predestined path.

"Ron is really sorry he said to you what he did. He lost his temper. As we Weasleys are more than capable of doing," Ginny smiled, not able to remove her eyes from the hypnotic water. "It's no excuse. But he is really, deeply sorry."

"I know," Hermione sighed quietly, tearing her gaze from the river to Ginny. "It's all right. I understand."

"You know he doesn't think that of you," Ginny assured.

"I know," Hermione nodded sadly, studying Ginny. There was a smudge of dirt on Ginny's cheek, a reminder of her tumble from the sky. Half of Hermione wanted to wipe it off, so she could at least feel her skin. Half of her wanted to leave it where it was.

"Good," Ginny breathed out and faced Hermione. "So, it was quite sudden wasn't it?"

"Not really," Hermione mumbled, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin there.

"Why not sudden?" Ginny asked, gently probing for answers.

"I've just felt this way for a while."

"How long? I mean, you've only been going out two months, haven't you?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"Before that," Hermione admitted, afraid to see the look on Ginny's face.

"Well, why did you even go out with him in the first place?" Ginny said, trying her utmost not to sound exasperated.

"I thought it would help. I thought it would work," Hermione said honestly.

Ginny paused, considering how to pursue this.

"Ron says that you like someone else," Ginny said slowly. "Is that something to do with it?"

Hermione nodded silently, still not able to make eye contact.

"OK. You don't have to tell me who it is if you don't want to," Ginny reassured her. Hermione grunted quietly in response. "But... Who is it?"

"I thought you just said I didn't have to tell you?" Hermione snorted, raising her head.

"Yeah you don't have to, but I'm still going to ask, aren't I?" Ginny retorted, raising her eyebrow. "Did you tell Harry?"

"Harry guessed," Hermione said moodily.

"The day when Harry Potter is more perceptive than me to matters of the Heart is the day I turn into a Flobberworm," Ginny grinned. "Unbelievable. If you told Harry, you have to tell me."

"You just said I didn't--!" Hermione started to protest.

"Ah, but that was on the standard, unsaid condition that it was a secret. It's not anymore," Ginny teased, trying to get her friend to lighten up.

"Just leave it, Ginny," huffed Hermione, sinking her head into her knees.

"The Boy Who Lived is also The Boy Who Can't Keep His Mouth Shut," Ginny smiled, nudging Hermione. "Afraid to say it's going to get out sooner or later."

Her light hearted teasing did nothing to alleviate Hermione's mental state. Ginny sighed and tried a different approach. "If I guess, like Harry, will you tell me if I'm right?"

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded.

"OK. We'll start from here and work our way out. Is it Harry?"

Hermione shook her head and continued to do so while Ginny rhymed off a list of names, knowing that she would never guess.

"Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Fred- No not Ron- Dad?!" Ginny joked. Hermione lifted her head and gave Ginny a very dark look. "Kidding. He's my dad, that would be awful. OK so, Hogwarts. Seamus, Zacharis, Ernie, Lee, Justin, Michael?"

Hermione had denied all of the names and Ginny furrowed her brow. "It must be someone embarrassing... Colin or Dennis Creevey?" Ginny joked gently. Hermione merely snorted into her knees. "Or Neville? That's understandable but embarrassing." Hermione sighed again. Ginny thought she had caught on. "Is it Dean? Is that why you don't want to tell me? If it is, I'll understand. I'm your friend, Hermione, honestly, it's OK if it is."

Hermione lifted her head and looked sadly at Ginny. She parted her lips, willing some form of speech. "It's you," she managed to say, very quietly.

Ginny hadn't heard and leaned in closer. "Who?"

Hermione took a deep breath and repeated her confession louder. "It's you."

"Oh," Ginny said, acting mildly surprised. She didn't move from her position which was so close she could feel Hermione's rasped breath on her cheek. Hermione immediately darkened into a violent shade of scarlet. "So not Dean then?" Ginny joked weakly.

"No," Hermione said, catching her breath in her throat. She knew that if she moved a few inches closer, her lips would be on Ginny's. Ginny wasn't moving, so Hermione chose to freeze her position as well. Stuck in a silent stalemate for a while, one of them had to speak.

"Why?" Was all Ginny could manage to say, finding herself quickly short of breath.

"So many reasons," Hermione said affectionately. Her eyes glistened as she thought of all the reasons and ways that she loved Ginny Weasley. "The way you care, the way you listen. The way you smell, your eyes, your hair," Hermione stuttered as she reached out to thread her fingers through Ginny's red locks. "The way you laugh, the way you cry. The way you tease me. How you feel," Hermione said in a hushed voice as her fingertips travelled across Ginny's soft cheek. "Your intelligence, your wit, your outright brilliance. You voice, your lips... The way you read Wilde to me," Hermione whispered desperately as she leaned forward to catch Ginny's lips for a kiss.

As she brushed her lips with Ginny's, dread and regret hit Hermione. She realised that this was her first - and most likely last - kiss with Ginny. So she wanted it stretch out in time. Make it something she could remember; the aching lament of desire for the harsh years of loneliness ahead. She deepened the kiss, hesitantly opening her mouth and kissing Ginny's bottom lip.

Hermione almost broke it off in shock; Ginny was kissing her back.

Sighing into the other girls' mouth and kissing it sweetly, Hermione allowed her hands to become tangled in the soft, burning flames. Ginny parted her lips and shyly their tongues eased against each other. Ginny slid her arms around Hermione's waist, pulling her close and pressing their bodies together. This sudden body heat caused an intense reaction in both of their beings. Ginny held the back of Hermione's head and brought their lips together passionately. Hermione's nails dug into Ginny's back as she itched to tear the clothing from Ginny's body.

Summoning up the last fibre of strength and resolve, Hermione tried to pull away; She knew that if they didn't stop then it could lead anywhere. Distraught, Hermione moved back but every time she did, Ginny moved further with her, catching her lips and not letting them go.

"Ginny," Hermione gasped, trying to break their mouths apart.

The sound of her own name brought Ginny crashing back from which ever cloud she had been upon. Ginny opened her eyes and smiled demurely, moving back from her position which happened to be very nearly on top of her friend.

"I didn't want to stop," Hermione stammered. "I just..."

"I get it," Ginny smiled bizarrely.

"We should just..."

"Cool down," Ginny affirmed, taking a deep breath. They both turned to face the stream and sat in silence for several minutes.

"Why did you?" Hermione asked cryptically.

"Kiss you back?" Hermione nodded. "I wanted to," Ginny sighed and laughed softly. "Hermione I thought you knew this but I fancied you in my third year. Quite madly I could add."

Hermione did a double take. "What?" She said in a high voice, failing to control her surprise.

"Yeah. For quite a lot of second year too," Ginny added, amused at the situation. "After I realised that Harry wasn't quite the... person I wanted." Hermione took a moment to let this new information register.

"So you don't... anymore?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"I didn't say that," Ginny teased, smiling wickedly at her. "Mooning after you wasn't exactly doing a lot for my self esteem. So I tried to move on. My wild fantasy was that you'd see me with all these boyfriends and become insanely jealous."

"Kind of did," Hermione mumbled, allowing herself to smile. Ginny reached over and pushed a strand of brown hair behind Hermione's ear.

"You are beautiful, Hermione. You are what I've wanted for so long," Ginny whispered, studying Hermione's face. "And you know that we can't."

This statement came as a sudden shock to Hermione, jolting her out of the dream state Ginny had placed her in by saying she was beautiful.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, searching Ginny's eyes for a flicker of a joke or sarcasm.

"Ron."

"Ron," Hermione echoed, her voice hollow. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Oh how stupid! She berated herself. Why didn't I just tell Ginny the truth in the beginning and never hurt Ron? I've messed everything up.

"Just for now," Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione lifted her head to Ginny again. "We just have to give him time. I love him, he's my brother. How awful would it be if he found us together in the Burrow? It would kill him to know that I'm the 'other guy'. Just for now."

Hermione smiled, feeling instantly relieved. They pressed their foreheads together.

"It's not long until we get to Hogwarts," Ginny said softly, running her thumb over Hermione's lips. "Then we can say your 'other guy' shot you down and I was there and it all... Just happened."

"Cunning plan, worthy of a Slytherin," Hermione joked, sliding her arms around Ginny's waist and holding herself to Ginny's chest.

"Salazar Slytherin's cunning isn't a patch on what a Weasley will do for love," Ginny laughed.

Feeling that everything would work out, Hermione smiled as Ginny kissed her head and pulled her closer.

"Remember last summer?" Ginny asked quietly, as she noticed that it was getting dark.

"God, don't I," Hermione said rhetorically, shaking her head.

"The books. There was a quote I loved and forgot to tell you," Ginny said, chewing her lip.

"Let's hear it," Hermione said, stifling an unintentional yawn. She was exhausted as the emotions of the day had taken their toll on her.

"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead," Ginny recited dutifully. Hermione pulled herself away from Ginny's embrace and faced her. She smiled seductively.

"I love when you speak Wilde to me," Hermione murmured, eyeing Ginny's lips tentatively. She let her fingers brush the perfect, pink lips gently. "You know that."

Ginny raised her eyebrow deviously. "I do."

"Beautiful words," Hermione murmured, moving closer and feeling the allure of Ginny's kiss too strong to resist.

"For my beautiful girl," Ginny whispered, smiling, kissing her softly.