Tea and Unicorns and Hermione

tea and unicorns and hermione

by rae

Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. T. S. Eliot

She wasn't a child, anymore, though she knew that they still saw her that way. It was hard for them not too, she had always been the baby, the one who needed to be protected. And, maybe, for awhile, that had been true. She'd been influenced so easily by Riddle, and she'd had such an intense, painfully girlish crush on Harry.

But it had been years. It had been a long time since she was still that same little girl who had to be escorted to the train at platform nine and three-quarters, she was out of school and lived in the city with two flatmates, and she didn't need coddling.

Once, she was a child and the world was so simple in her eyes. She loved: flowers and candy, when her older brothers would pay attention to her, unicorns and faeries, learning how to knit with her mother, raspberry leaf tea, cats and puppies. These things don't make her happy anymore, not like how they used to.

She can remember perfectly the first time she felt heartbroken- when Harry had hated her Valentine and then Malfoy had snarled at her, yelling to the world I don't think Potter liked your Valentine much! So she'd run, crying, and gone to be alone, feeling as though something that had always been inside her, hope or possibility or love, even, was gone now, leaving an empty space inside her.

She experianced that again, not herself but she saw it, felt it from afar, when Cedric had died and Cho had crumpled, walked around with blankness in her eyes. She knew that what Cho was feeling must have been terrible, far, far worse than what she'd felt that day in the Great Hall.

"Oi, Ginny!" The sound of one of her flatmate's voice, drawing her attention away from these thoughts and memories. Both her flatemates were boys, Blue and Owen, because she got on with boys so well and couldn't imagine living with girls, not now, not since Hogwarts. And then as she started to head for the door, she heard murmurings and knew that Blue and her guest were talking.

The door opened and Hermione entered the room, looking a bit shy and worn, as Ginny knew she'd just come straight away from work.

Ginny was twenty now but felt older sometimes, despite how the people who knew her acted. Except Hermione. It had taken time, but Hermione seemed now to be aware that Ginny wasn't a child anymore. Things weren't so simple anymore. She loved: flowers, still- she loved their scent and their colors and the softness of their petals. She still loved unicorns and faeries, even though she'd learnt long ago that faeries were not the sweetest, most loveable of creatures. She was still fond of raspberry leaf tea, although she enjoyed Hibiscus and Jasmine much more. Kittens and puppies and all animals, soft and furry and loyal, and they never treated her like anything aside from what she was. And, Hermione. She loved Hermione most of all, more than unicorns or cats or tea, Hermione with her intelligence and her always messy hair, her soft smooth skin and they way that clothes fell on her, although she loved just as much the way clothes looked coming off of her. When Ginny looked at Hermione she would often forget to breath for a bit, so enamoured she was with the older girl.

"Sorry," said Hermione. "Am I late? I got kept up, sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "Doesn't matter, really. You're here now." And Ginny, twenty year old Ginny, was full of confidence. She strode towards her girlfriend of some months and kissed her, pulled Hermione close and let her lips express everything that she couldn't find the words for. In the beginning, Hermione had felt bad about being with Ginny, guilty that she'd turned down Ron and fallen in love with his little sister. But then they had stayed together for weeks and months and it was just so comfortable. The first time they'd slept together, well, it had seemed that Ginny must have had experiance before because she seemed quite sure of what she was doing. Hermione, on the other hand, had started off by saying 'I really don't know what-' but Ginny had crushed their lips together, so soft and so warm and it hadn't mattered, as she crawled atop of Hermione, straddled her stomach and bent down, said, 'None of that matters' and it hadn't because they'd kissed and touched and laughed, Ginny had removed the other girl's shirt and tossed it to the floor, and still, months later, each time they slept together it was full of laughter and giggling, once Hermione had banged her head and Ginny had thought This is it, the mood is broken now but Hermione had just rubbed her head, giggled and pulled Ginny back down on top of her.

It was complicated because Ron and Ginny's brothers weren't sure what to make of it. They were glad that Ginny was in love, and they adored Hermione, but she'd always been meant for Ron in their minds. It was complicated because, sometimes, when she saw Harry, she still found herself attracted to him, still found herself thinking what if or could have been and that was tough to get past.

Ginny pulled away from the kiss, her heart thumping so loud that she was certain Hermione must have been able to hear it, and the girls' rested their foreheads against one another's, gazed into each other's eyes and let their breathings slow. Smiling, Hermione leaned forward a bit and sweetly kissed her girlfriend's nose.

"I really am sorry," she said and meant it.

Ginny smiled because when she was with Hermione it was so hard not to, and said, "I told you that it didn't matter." She shrugged her thin shoulders, wrapped her arms tighter around the other girl's small, perfect waist. "You were worth the wait."

And she closed her eyes.