Never Me

Never Me

It's been a beautiful day. The sun shining, clouds blowing across the blue sky. We're sitting out on the grounds, just talking. We talk about everything and everyone. We always do. We've really become best friends, she's always there for me.

And she understands me. She understands why I'm terrified of the dark places in my soul that I learned about my first year here, and she understands the sadness and loneliness that came from his never wanting me. I think she even understands why I'm not interested in him anymore, why I've not had any boyfriends and never bemoaned the lack.

I understand her too. I get why she always works so hard to prove she belongs here, and how being the smartest keeps her from being eclipsed by the guys. Harry could eclipse anyone, so it's just as well he never was interested in me. I understand her worries about her future in our world, and her hopes and dreams. I even understand why she is with my brother, why even though they always fight she wants to be with him.

And I wish she didn't. I wish she could see how I flinch every time he comes to take her away from me. She's not the same with him. With me she's herself, because I understand her. With him, she's the girl he wants her to be, just because he loves her. But the one thing she doesn’t understand is that I love her too, and I'd let her be herself.

"Hey. Earth to Ginny." Her voice, so pretty, so controlled.

"Hey Hermione."

"What's up? What were you thinking about?" I could never tell her, not really.

"Not much, just watching the world." I pause, considering, but of course I can't really tell her. For all I'm a Gryffindor I'm a terrible chicken. "So, how'd the exam go?" Scaredy-cat, changing the subject.

"Great. I really think I knew what I was doing."

"Of course you did. You always do."

"Not always, and I wouldn't have if you hadn't made me keep studying the other night. You were right, he did put the Norfolk Manticore case on the test. I couldn't have done it without you." She can be so insecure at times. Ron never sees this.

"You'd have done great even without me. You're too good at all of this." Maybe she thinks it's empty platitudes, but I really do think she's the best.

"Thanks Gin, you're the greatest."

"Nope, you are. I just play good accompaniment." I know she hears the tone of self-deprecation. She never lets me get away with this sort of thing.

"Don't be silly. You're not just good in support, you deserve to shine on center stage too." She grins at me, and I know she means it. And then of course, it comes to an end. Our time together always does.

"Hey, 'Mione!" Damn him. I know I shouldn't hate my own brother, but damn him.

"Hey Ron, hey Harry!" She calls out to him, standing to greet her boyfriend, and just can't watch them kiss.

"Hi Ginny, how's the day?" Harry's great, really he is. Now that I'm over him I can see how bad he'd have been for me, but he's a good guy to have as a friend. Too bad that where he is Ron is, and I never get anytime with her that matters. Not that she'd want me. No! Depression is one thing, but the day's too nice for it.

"Lovely, just look around. Blue sky, bright sun, and I didn't have a test today." He makes a face at me, but I steamroll him. "And how did you two do on the test?"

"Oh, I don't want to talk about it." My wonderful, funny, brother, who's always been there for me, who has the one person I really want.

"You know if you'd studied with me last night . . . " And she's off. They always fight, and as much as I can't watch them be happy together, watching them fight is even worse. I want her to be happy, really I do. And if not with me, then not with me. But he doesn't make her happy. When she's happy she never gets that shrill I-know-what's-best-for-you tone in her voice, she never scowls like that, and she never gets so worked up. She wants to be relaxed, but he doesn't let her.

***

This time the argument seems worse than usual. It lasts longer, and unlike most of them never reaches critical volume. When they yell, eventually they come to an end. But this, this is just poisonous. They sit there and they snipe at each other. It hurts, watching this. I can't take it.

Hell, even Harry doesn't want to watch this. I ran into him as I was leaving the girls' bathroom after taking a shower and all he could say was, "They're at it again. I really wish they'd either stop this madness, or . . ." Of course he didn't finish that thought. I think he knows how I feel and he doesn't want to hurt me. He watches me at times with this knowing look on his face. But she doesn't know or notice. Or maybe she has and thinks bringing it up would hurt what we have.

"Damn you Ron." What? Normally that's a phrase that is yelled across the common room, not quietly muttered. "You don't understand me at all. You just don't get it." There's a quiet resignation to her tone, maybe this scene is finally coming to an end.

"No one could understand you. You make yourself unfathomable because it suits you." That's just cruel and he knows it. The one thing about her I know he understands because I've talked with him about it is that she feels alone, being Muggle-born in our world.

"Ginny understands me, it can't be that hard." If I didn't know what she meant I might be upset by this. As if anything I did must be easy because I could do it. Strike that, I am upset.

"Then why aren't you with Ginny! It's useless to compare me to my sister, so if that's what you want . . ." Ah, the crux of his problem. He knows I'm not into boys, I came out to the whole family last summer, maybe he's finally twigged who I am into. Wouldn’t it be interesting if he'd finally caught a clue.

"Real mature Ron! Why don't you just grow up!" And her voice is raised as she interrupts him. How . . . odd. I wonder what it is about his suggestion that's got her even more upset.

"Oh, fuck off. I don't have to listen to this." And there he goes, storming away. It's that red-head's temper. Always gets him in trouble. I have it too but I try not to let the world get to me as much as it does him.

"Damn him." *sniff* It's so quiet I almost don't hear her start to cry, but I do hear and it tears at my heart. I can't help but go to her now.

"Hermione?" My quiet voice seems to startle her. "Hermione, come on. You ought to go to bed. It'll be ok, this is just another fight."

"I'm tired of the fights," she answers, but she lets me lead her up the stairs to her room.

As Head Girl she's got a room of her own, which would make anyone else thrilled but just enhances her feelings of isolation. I know she wanted to be Head Girl, another triumph, another proof that she's good enough, but it sets her apart and hurts her about as much as it helps.

I help her get ready for bed, folding her robes while she changes into a nightgown, careful that I don't watch, don't let her see me watching. Then I make her sit down in front of me and brush her hair, her long, pretty, mess of hair. I think she'd cut it all off if I didn't occasionally make her stop fighting with it long enough to show her how it could be. She says I'm the only one who could see anything pretty in its messy curls, but she's always so happy when I do.

"I ought to go." I'm quiet, I know. Her hair has been done for minutes but I just don't want to stop running my hands over it, feeling the glossy smoothness. I have finally managed to convince myself to stop, to at least try, but that goes flying out the window with her next words.

"Ginny," she turns slowly to look at me behind her. "Will you stay here tonight? I want . . . I don't want . . ." And she sniffs again, tears glistening in those lovely brown eyes. "I just want to be held, to not be alone for once."

Oh gods, how can he hurt her like this? How can she let him? I'd never . . . But that's not a useful thought Ginny, stop it.

"Of course." I'd changed into my nightgown after my shower this evening, so all I have to do is slip out of the bathrobe while she pulls back her covers and crawls into bed. I slide in after her, letting my arms wrap around her waist, settling her head on my shoulder.

I can't help it, she feels so right there in my arms. I close my eyes, letting my mind wander, imagining that the reasons were different, that she wanted me here not as a friend but as a lover. When I open them, resolved to face the truth of my life I see her watching me. Her dark eyes meet mine and she bites at her lip, clearly hesitant about something.

"Ginny?" she says. "Ginny, can I . . ."

"What?" I can't imagine what would cause that shy tone in her voice.

"Can I kiss you?"

"What?" She can't have said that, she just can't. Oh please let her have said that.

"Can I kiss you? May I?"

Oh gods, oh, oh gods. "Why?" It's a struggle to keep my voice from breaking, to keep from pulling her to me. This is my brother's girlfriend, my best friend, and she's hurt, and she's beautiful, and . . .

"I think Ron maybe be right. He and I don't make any sense. He doesn't understand me, not at all." Slowly she shifts her weight, lifting her head off of my arm and up towards my face. "You and I make sense. You understand . . ." and she breaks off as her eyes drift shut, leaning her head towards me.

I want this. I want this so much. "Please . . ." I want this, but . . . "Don't."

And she stops. Thank god, she stops. Oh why did I make her stop. "Why?" It's a whisper, filled with fear of rejection.

"Please," Please, please, so close, please, more, and there are tears in my eyes, I can feel them. "I . . . I can't." She doesn't understand. I can see it, she knows how much I want her, and she's hurt because she thought she knew me. I have to make this clear, and I don't even understand, and I want her, gods I want her. "If you kiss me I won't be able to help falling in love with you." The light in her eyes, oh, no, no. "I'm already in love with you Hermione, you know it. But if you kiss me I won't be able to take it when . . . when," she doesn't understand, I can't say this, I can't hurt her, I can't stop her and I don't want to. "Eventually, when his apology is abject enough, you'll take him back. You know you will, and if I let you kiss me I won't be able to take it."

And she's been watching me this whole time with those eyes that see everything and hide the mind that understands every part of my soul. She knows exactly how to get what she wants from me. Her hand lifts, brushing the tear trickling down my cheek away and I know she feels my shudder at her touch. "No," it's just a whisper, no more than a breath, but we're so close I can hear it, as I feel her heart beating through the light fabrics separating us. "No Ginny. This makes too much sense. You understand me. You understand my mind, my heart, my soul. It's all I could ever want, to find someone who's my equal, my better, who would want to be my all. And Ginny, Ginny love, Ron is not my equal."

And I can't stop her and I don't want to. She sees the hope in my eyes, I know she does. I want this to be true, not just the result of an entire daylong argument and hurt. I feel her sigh as she feels me relax and the tiniest of smiles lights her face. Slowly, oh so slowly, she leans forward, finishing the movement and stilling the moment in the most perfect of kisses.

But we don't make love, we don't even have sex. Even if this is real I know she's not ready for that. And deep in my heart I'm afraid. After the kiss, after The Kiss, she leans back, looking deep into my eyes, searching for something. Maybe she sees what she's looking for and maybe she doesn't, but she lies back against the pillows on her bed, pulling me so our earlier positions are reversed. Now my head rests on her shoulder and I watch as her breathing slows into the regular rhythms of sleep.

I'm trying to be reasonable here, really I am. Just because a dream has come true doesn't mean anything. I don't want to fall in love, but I'm already in love and all there is left is to fall until I hit the bottom. I'd keep the hope out, but how can I?

***

And in the morning, after I have left her to get dressed for class I come down into the common room. There, as I pause at the bottom of the stairs, hidden from view of most of the room, I see them standing at the portrait hole.

"Hermione, please listen to me?"

"Why should I Ron? You made it pretty clear last night that you didn't want to listen to me, so why should I do you the honor?"

"Hermione, please! I'm sorry . . ."

"No! It's too late for that." And hope soars.

"Please love, I mean it. I was totally out of line. I do understand . . ." No you don’t you bastard. ". . . I do know what it means to you, and I had no right to suggest that it wasn’t important. Hermione, I love you, how could I not understand?"

"But . . ." I really don't need to see how this falls out. I already know the ending. I might as well leave, not watch it unfold, save myself one little scrap of, I don't know, dignity maybe. She will cave, it's inevitable, she'll take him back. She loves him, not me. Never me. I have fallen, and I see the bottom spiraling up at me, faster and faster, and I know it's going to hurt when I hit.