A/N: Hey everyone, it's good to be back and finishing up my last fic. I know it's been quite a while since I've updated this, and since then it's sort of become an entirely different thing than what I had originally intended. I've also tried to incorporate as much of canon as possible but I'm sure you'll notice where I took some liberties. Modifications aside, I hope you enjoy it anyway. And thanks for reading!
Where Elizabeth Stood
Chapter 2-Denials and Delusions
Her dressing gown was hanging off one shoulder but Hermione didn't notice. If she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, if she focused on the feel of the polished wood banister under her hand, if she regulated her breathing to a normal rate, then maybe she wouldn't have to think about the night before. The pale April morning light filtered underneath the closed doors downstairs in Grimmauld Place, lighting the shining wood floorboards in the entryway.
Hermione reached the kitchen and noted with a strange sense of loss how cold and uninviting it seemed without the whistling of the tea kettle or the remains of some mostly-eaten meal of Ron's on the counter. She didn't expect to see her ginger-haired best friend that morning; his alcohol consumption from the previous evening's celebrations would probably keep him in bed until the afternoon hours. In any case, he had decided to stay-or rather, had passed out-at the Burrow. No doubt Molly Weasley would be giving him enough of an earful when he awoke that he would be put off of alcohol for the rest of his life. Or at least until his next best friend's engagement.
This sobering thought wiped the amused grin off Hermione's face. Harry was going to marry Elizabeth, and while Hermione wasn't naïve enough to think that all marriages were final, she knew Harry well enough that he wouldn't have asked Elizabeth to spend the rest of her life with him if he didn't intend to do so.
Hermione bit her lip, trying in vain to keep the tears from welling up. She felt that Harry was soon to be lost to her forever, if not only romantically then perhaps as a friend as well. Knowing only too well how Harry's past girlfriends had believed that there was something more to her friendship with Harry, Hermione doubted that his wife would be keen for him to continue it once they were married. Well, Hermione would just have to put her foot down on that one; she wouldn't allow herself to be pushed out of her best friend's life, even if she secretly harbored more than friendly feelings for him. Especially if she had more than friendly feelings for him, a small more insistent part of her reiterated.
As she filled the kettle with water from the tap, Hermione recalled the first time she had laid eyes on Elizabeth Prinsen and wondered not for the first time if she herself were responsible for her own current emotional state.
Despite the fact that after the war Hermione had immediately traveled to Australia to lift the charm on her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger still retained a great passion for the land down under and frequently went on holiday there. On one such a trip for her twenty-first birthday, Hermione accompanied them and spent two weeks with them before returning solo to her desk at the Ministry. She regretted not being able to spend more time with her parents, whom she had seen little off in the past few years, but one of her pieces of legislation on elf rights was up for debate and she thought she ought to be present.
That period of her life was particularly trying, as not only had she and Ron broken up in January of that year, but Harry and Ginny-after being together for over two years-followed suit six months later. Once Ron began dating Luna, Grimmauld Place became a little uncomfortable for Hermione; this was partially the reason she had agreed to her parents' suggestion of a holiday.
While celebrating her birthday in Australia, Hermione fell in love with the sun and surf, and although she could not directly meet the friends her parents had made in the year of their residence (since they would find it odd that the Wilkinses had suddenly acquired a daughter), she was glad that her parents were happy in their time there without her. With a heavy heart, she left her parents after two weeks to enjoy the rest of their holiday and headed back to London.
She spent a few uneventful hours wading through airport security before finally boarding the plane to take her home. It would be a long flight and, anxious about her legislation, she did not want to be disturbed. But fate would not have that it would seem, as not four minutes later a beautiful girl with red hair and eyes that were almost black sat down in the seat next to her. The arrival shot Hermione a quick acknowledging smile, which was returned politely, and she became engrossed in studiously examining the placard outlining the airplane's safety procedures.
Hermione was gazing at the tarmac out the window when the red head spoke. "First time in Sydney?" she asked conversationally, her mouth in an engaging smile that showed off all of her even white teeth to perfection. Her accent told Hermione that the girl was British and probably on vacation herself.
Hermione couldn't help but smile back, drawn to the young woman beside her in a way that she had never been toward any stranger. "Can't you tell?" she answered, indicating the paleness of her skin good-humoredly.
The stranger sat back in her seat, still studying the safety placard and smiling in appreciation of Hermione's joke. "That's me as well," she said, pointing to her face. "Three seconds in the sun and I'm absolutely covered in freckles. I'm Elizabeth, by the way."
She held out her hand and Hermione turned to shake it, opening her mouth to introduce herself. "I'm Her-"
"I know who you are," Elizabeth said with a wink. Instantly Hermione realized that the red head was a witch, and she wondered if she might have met her before at school. The awkwardness that she expected upon being recognized outside of the Wizarding world never arrived.
"Did you go to Hogwarts, then?" she asked curiously.
Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, a year below you, in Ravenclaw," she replied. There was a slight pause in their conversation as the flight attendants explained safety procedures and made a last sweep of the cabin before take-off. Then, when the plane was in the air and the sound of the engines quelled to a low hum, Elizabeth turned to her again and looked to be steeling herself to say something. "Listen, I'm sure you get this all the time, but I would just like to, well, thank you, I guess. For everything that you have done. And I don't just mean with Voldemort either, but with your work with rebuilding the Ministry as well." She said all this very fast but with a hesitant look in her eyes.
"Well, you're welcome," said Hermione, genuinely touched that this perfect stranger seemed so appreciative of her actions.
Elizabeth gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile and once again sat back in her seat. The pair sat in silence for several minutes as Hermione went back to worrying about her work, but, feeling as though she should make at least some attempt at conversation since they would be sitting together for another twenty or so hours, she asked, "So how was your holiday?"
From then on they chatted almost non-stop, bar a few intermissions for occasional naps, about their jobs and education, their holidays, current events, and whatever else came into their heads. When the pilot announced their descent into London, Hermione blinked in surprise. Elizabeth seemed to be mirroring her expression and the two shared a laugh at how quickly the time had passed.
Hermione couldn't have asked for a better seat companion; Elizabeth was the first person she had met in quite a while with whom she was able to hold an intelligent conversation. And the girl was so charming and friendly with an easy laugh that rang out without being obnoxious. But what Hermione liked most of all about the girl whom she hoped she might now call a friend was that she never once asked anything impertinent about the war or Harry and Ron. Elizabeth seemed to sense that these subjects should not be broached and restricted her remarks to other matters.
So it wasn't a stretch of her powers of cordiality for Hermione to ask Elizabeth to lunch in two days' time, after they had both properly recovered from jet lag.
"I would be delighted," she replied, her dark eyes sparkling in pleasure and she appeared moved that Hermione would make the suggestion. The pair of witches retrieved their hand luggage from the overhead compartments (of course being careful as the contents may have shifted during flight) and proceeded to collect their remaining bags from the carousel.
When that task had been completed, they were just about to arrange the details for the upcoming lunch when they were interrupted by a loud, "HERMIONE!" The brunette in question cringed as several heads turned in the direction of the shout and then followed the caller's progress through the crowd toward her. It could only be Ron Weasley, accompanied by Harry Potter, who was shuffling his feet and keeping his head down.
"Hey guys," said Hermione, still a little pink as the curious passers-by gradually went back to their business. Ron, sensing this, scooped her up in a hug that took her off her feet and swung her around in apparent jubilation. "Ron! Put me down!" she yelled indignantly, swatting his shoulder, though she was a little pleased at her welcome committee. When Ron had placed her back on her feet, she received a hug from Harry as well, who whispered, "Sorry," in her ear so that Ron couldn't hear. She smiled in acceptance of the apology as she pulled away and suddenly remembered the presence of Elizabeth, who was standing a few feet away shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"Oh! Sorry, how rude of me," she said indicating for Elizabeth to come closer. Ron and Harry both looked at her in interest, as it was rare that Hermione forged acquaintances on an airplane, and smiled during their introduction. "Elizabeth Prinsen, meet Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Elizabeth was a year below us at school-in Ravenclaw," she said for Harry and Ron's benefit.
"You must know Luna Lovegood then," said Ron casually as he shook the red head's hand.
Elizabeth nodded and broke into a grin in recognition of the name. "Luna! How is she? I haven't talked to her in ages," she said and Hermione knew that Ron would appreciate Elizabeth's inquiries even if she wasn't a close friend of Luna's at school.
Hermione chanced a glance at Harry, who had an expression on his face that she hadn't seen since the early days of his relationship with Ginny. But rather than the girlish excitement at a potential match that she had felt when she deciphered Harry's somewhat suppressed feelinsg for Ginny in sixth year, she felt a pang of something else, something she couldn't put a name to.
The moment passed and with it the strange feeling, as Elizabeth made her goodbyes and reaffirmed her promise to meet up with Hermione in two days. As she walked away, Hermione and Ron stooped to gather the former's luggage and began to walk toward the airport's secret Apparition point. They stopped when they realized that Harry wasn't with them, and, turning back, saw him running up to Elizabeth, who had apparently dropped something from her bag. Hermione and Ron watched in silence as Harry returned it to Elizabeth and the pair shared a short conversation involving a few blushes from the latter and a few nervous finger hair-combings from the former.
Hermione shot a look at Ron from the corner of her eye. It didn't matter to him that he had just met and liked the girl; the fact was that his sister and his best friend has just broken up not four months before, and he probably felt torn between allegiance to his blood sibling and the friend who was as good as. Hermione placed a comforting hand on his arm and his grim frown vanished just as Harry caught up with them. She braced herself for some kind of verbal chastisement from Ron, but to her chagrin he said nothing.
For his part, Harry remained silent as well, though Hermione suspected it was more of his thoughts being occupied rather than any kind of awareness of how Ron might have taken his little chase after Elizabeth. For the first time, Hermione was slightly regretful at having met and introduced Elizabeth to the other two, though she was sure that this situation would have arisen no matter what. Eventually, there would have been another girl on Harry's horizon.
That was the day that she and Elizabeth had met, barely a year and half before. Hermione poured herself some tea and mused at how it could have all gone so painfully wrong. She suspected that a large part of the blame should go to her, since she hadn't figured out-or admitted to, at any rate-her feelings for Harry. And she was supposed to be the smart one.
"Got any more of that?" came a voice from the doorway still deep with sleep.
Hermione's wand arm, the same one that happened to be holding her tea cup, jerked at the sudden noise and she sloshed tea all down the front of her dressing gown. She looked up at the voice's owner and served him with a dirty look. "Merlin, Harry, you of anyone should know not to sneak up on people," she scolded, siphoning off the tea from her robe.
"Sorry," he said, fighting back a chuckle and coming forward to retrieve a cup himself. Hermione instinctively moved away from him to the counter on the other side of the kitchen. "If you want, I'll spill some on myself as well," he suggested.
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione replied, secretly pleased at his playful tone. She finished making her breakfast, leaving a few eggs and sausages on the plate by the stove for Harry, and seated herself at the table.
A few minutes later, Harry joined her, smiling in thanks at the food she'd left. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments until Harry asked, "So what are you up to today?"
Hermione frowned in thought. She did have some work to get done, but given recent events she decided a visit to the only other woman in who's confidence she trusted was in order. "I think I'm going to go visit Ginny today, actually," she said, reaching for an orange from the bowl of fruit in the center of the table.
"Sounds good," he said, squirming a little in his seat. She kept her hands busy peeling the orange as she waited for him to speak his mind. Finally, he said, with a quick glance toward the door to the kitchen, "Do you think she's all right? You know, with everything?"
Hermione assumed that by 'everything' he meant his proposal to Elizabeth in front of her and the rest of the Weasleys. She considered his query and guessed that while a year ago his worry might have been legitimate, it was doubtful that Ginny would be that upset about it now. She shrugged as she replied, "I don't know, Harry, but I'm sure she is. I mean, she's dating Neville now and they seem pretty happy. Plus, it's Ginny, she's pretty resilient."
Harry nodded and returned Hermione's kindly smile, but before he could say anything else, a cheerful voice rang out, "Good morning, lovely household!"
Elizabeth, dressed in running clothes, entered the kitchen and plopped down in the seat next to Harry, grabbing an apple and kissing him sweetly on the cheek. Steadfast, Hermione said to herself.
"Just get in?" Hermione asked in a good imitation of genuine curiosity. Instantly she felt guilty; Elizabeth had done nothing wrong but love Harry, something that she couldn't really blame her for. It would not do to act horribly toward her when her only crime was loving a very lovable person. Besides, Harry would probably notice and not be very pleased.
Elizabeth nodded, clearly in a good mood. She hopped up, abuzz with energy, and went to open the icebox, presumably to prepare lunch. As she bustled around the kitchen, Hermione's gaze was drawn like a magnet to the glittering stone on the red head's left hand and a glance at Harry told her that he was having trouble looking away himself, though Hermione knew they had very different perspectives of his upcoming nuptials.
Hermione was trying to finish her breakfast as fast as possible, not wanting to leave the two alone together but at the same time not wanting to be alone with them either. Elizabeth, who got up earlier than most people, was making lunch while Hermione and Harry finished breakfast. She held up the pan with the contents of her lunch and asked, "Want some?"
Hermione and Harry looked up, saw what was in the pan and immediately had the same reaction. Harry groaned and put his hand over his mouth and Hermione clenched at her stomach, which was now lurching unpleasantly. Elizabeth's hopeful expression fell. "You guys don't like mushrooms, I gather?"
Harry groaned again. "If I never have to eat another mushroom again, I'll die a happy man, Lizzie," he said, only half-joking. "No offense, Hermione," he added, shooting her an apologetic look.
Hermione wasn't sure if she could trust herself to speak, but said anyway, "None taken." She felt much the same way.
Elizabeth was regarding the pair with raised eyebrows, obviously taken aback by such strong opinions on fungi. Harry, seeing her mild curiosity, explained, "That's pretty much all we ate while we were in hiding." He didn't have to say any more, Elizabeth got his meaning immediately. Hermione was once again struck at how much she, Harry, and Ron shared that none but themselves knew about during the times that they were hunting Horcruxes. She wondered how much Harry had shared with Elizabeth or with Ginny.
With that thought, Hermione Banished her dishes to the sink and stood to leave.
"Oh Hermione," called Elizabeth before Hermione had made it through the door. Elizabeth strode forward and grasped Hermione's hands in her own. "Harry and I would like to ask you something tonight. If you're available that is," she said, her white teeth gleaming behind a hopeful grin.
Hermione did not like the girl's use of 'Harry and I' but agreed to talk with them that evening nonetheless. She had absolutely no idea what the couple wanted to ask her and she supposed that she would have to wait and see.
With a forced smile, she excused herself and went back upstairs to her room so that she could get dressed and give Ginny a Floo-call to say that she'd be visiting. Hermione had no idea of Ginny's Quidditch schedule (she was a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies) but as it was the off-season, Hermione hoped that the Quidditch star would be at home.
Much to Hermione's reief, Ginny was not only at her London flat with no plans for the day but also seemingly unsurprised at Hermione's request for a visit. And so, despite what she had told Harry at the breakfast table, Hermione steeled herself for the meeting with Harry's most recent ex-girlfriend, the only other woman on the face of the planet who might have some clue as to what she herself was feeling.
She closed her eyes and felt herself being squeezed through nothingness before landing precisely on the doorstep to Ginny's building. After making the weary climb to the fourth floor where the youngest Weasley lived when she wasn't on tour, Hermione rapped smartly on the door to 4E. Less than ten seconds later, Ginny had thrown open the door, greeted Hermione with a wide grin, and beckoned her inside. Hermione, who had been expecting somewhat different behavior, allowed herself to be shuttled into the living room, where Ginny had already prepared a steaming kettle of tea.
Wordlessly, the pair plopped onto facing armchairs, Ginny still smiling at Hermione with a strange expression she couldn't quite read. The brunette cleared her throat.
"So, erm how are you?" asked Hermione, unsure of what else to say. The question was rhetorical; Hermione had known Ginny long enough to know that the red head was not feigning her cheerfulness.
Ginny waved her hand vaguely. "Oh, you know, tired and everything," she said, looking anything but. She leaned forward and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. "Oh Hermione, you didn't think I was upset about last night, did you?"
Actually, that was exactly what Hermione had thought. At the very least, she had believed that in Ginny she would find a kindred spirit, that they would be united in knowing that Harry would be out of their lives forever. "Of course not," she said, to cover for her oversight. "I know you're with Neville and everything."
Ginny smiled at the name, but in that smile Hermione finally identified what had eluded her before. The smile Ginny had turned her way was one of understanding.
Hermione tensed, breaking Ginny's gaze. For all of her wishing that Ginny might share in her grief, she had never actually intended to admit to anyone her feelings toward Harry. And now it seemed that somehow her behavior had betrayed her.
Leaning back in her seat, Ginny said as though to no one in particular, "Oh man, remember the last time you came to visit me like this?" Hermione glanced up at Ginny, who was staring with a faraway look at the opposite wall.
She did remember. It was just after Ginny had moved into that very flat when her Quidditch career. Hermione had planned to spend Christmas Eve with her parents and then meet up with everyone at the Burrow the day of. And so, laden with gifts for the many Weasleys and Order members who would be present for the holiday, Hermione donned her new navy blue dress robes and traveled directly from her parents' to the home where now only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still lived.
"Hello!" she called as she walked through the front door and reached into her bag to retrieve the many packages. She could hear noise coming from the kitchen and dining area and guessed that most of the guests had gathered there. With her wand, she enlarged the presents from their shrunken form and added to the already enormous pile beneath the tree.
"Hermione, dear, how are you? Oh, you look lovely," came the pleasant voice of Mrs. Weasley who, judging by her rosy cheeks, had not declined the consumption of a few choice beverages that evening.
Hermione smiled in thanks and stepped forward to accept the woman's motherly embrace. "Happy Christmas, Mrs. Weasley," she said politely. Over her shoulder, Hermione spotted Ginny talking to Neville and George. "Have you seen Harry or Ron?" she asked after extricating herself gently.
Mr. Weasley stepped up behind his wife, evidently overhearing Hermione's question. "No, but we expect them shortly," he answered before hugging her and wishing her a merry Christmas as well. When the Weasley parents had moved away through the crowd of twenty or so, Hermione made a beeline for their daughter.
"Hey Ginny, Neville, George," she said, nodding to all three in turn. "How are you?" she asked, directing her question more toward Ginny, whom she had not gotten much of a chance to speak to in the past few months.
The younger girl shrugged as Neville and George both answered, "Good," and "Great," simultaneously. They were silenced from further conversation by the sound of Mrs. Weasley's greeting of her youngest son who had just arrived dragging a sheepish Harry in tow.
Hermione turned to go approach them when Mrs. Weasley suddenly went quiet. The unnatural hush seemed to spread like wildfire throughout the rest of the room, and every head turned toward the entrance to the kitchen. Hermione had to stand on tip-toe to see what was causing the silences. What she saw elicited a gasp of surprise.
There, behind Harry as though embarrassed at all the attention but wearing her usual charming smile and looking resplendent in royal blue dress robes. Stepping forward and seemingly ignorant of the looks of surprise on every face, Harry said, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Elizabeth Prinsen." He turned to Elizabeth and named everyone in a quieter and-Hermione could barely admit-more intimate tone, "This is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron's parents. Over there are his brothers Charlie, Percy, Bill, his wife Fleur, their daughter Victoire. You remember Professor McGonagall-sorry, I keep forgetting, Minerva, of course you know the Minister for Magic Shacklebolt Kingsley, Luna Lovegood who you already know, Dean Thomas who was in Gryffindor with me, Hagrid of course, Ron's other brother George, Neville Longbottom, you know Hermione, and Ron's sister Ginny."
Although the talk in the room rose throughout his introduction, Hermione could still tell that his voice faltered slightly on the last name. She glanced surreptitiously at Ginny, who had become quite pale as Elizabeth's eyes made a sweep about the room and finally came to rest on her own. Mrs. Weasley was the first to come forward to shake Elizabeth's hand, though Hermione thought she saw the woman's smile become slightly strained as she met the girl who had replaced her daughter. As others followed Mrs. Weasley's example, Ginny quietly made her way out of the room. As inconspicuously as possible, Hermione followed the red head to the bedroom they had often shared as teenagers when Hermione had come to visit. Upon entering the room, she shut the door softly behind her and seated herself on Ginny's desk chair.
The younger witch still had a look of incredulity on her face as she stared at Hermione from where she sat on her bed. Hermione looked at her, not sure of what to say. The silence stretched as the sound of lively laughter and conversation drifted up from downstairs.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked gently, stretching out a hand to lay it on Ginny's shoulder.
She jumped, apparently forgetting that Hermione was there, and looked up at the brunette with wide eyes as though she was still trying to accept what she had just witnessed. "I can't believe it," she said quietly. She paused and looked at Hermione again. "Is it serious?"
Hermione had been just as surprised as the rest of them. She knew that Harry and Elizabeth had been spending some time together, meeting a few times during the week. In fact, Hermione had had lunch with the pair of them and Ron quite a few times, since they all worked at the Ministry. But she had never suspected that there was more to the picture. She met Ginny's gaze and shrugged. "Serious enough for him to bring her to Christmas," she replied.
Ginny stood up suddenly and began pacing the room. "Merlin, doesn't she have her own family to go to?" she demanded to no one in particular, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.
Hermione followed her progress about the room and remained seated in Ginny's chair. "Actually her family lives in Australia now," supplied Hermione, but Ginny appeared not to have heard her. She had frozen mid-stride with her back to Hermione.
"Wait," she said, whipping around to face the brunette. "I think I recognize her. Was she in my year at Hogwarts?" she asked.
"Well, yeah," answered Hermione, who had no recollection of Elizabeth back in school. Granted, she had been quite busy keeping Harry away from the jaws of death every waking moment.
Ginny punched the air in triumph as though she had just worked through a particularly challenging puzzle. "I knew it! She was in Charms with me, and quite the little-"
"She's actually pretty nice, Ginny," said Hermione quietly, not wanting to encourage the abuse of someone who wasn't even there to defend herself.
Ginny huffed. "Oh of course, she is. Miss Prinsen, so royal, so regal. She has always known how to get what she wants, how to say exactly the right thing to exactly the right person. And now she's gone and snagged the most eligible wizard in Britain-"
"Ginny, you broke up with him, remember?" Hermione interrupted, though she felt that Ginny might have had a point about Elizabeth's skill at saying just what one wanted to hear. Still, she thought that Ginny might need reminding that she was the one responsible for Harry's eligibility in the first place.
"I know, but I still didn't expect that he would move on, not this soon!" she cried defensively, resuming her journey around the room. "It wasn't supposed to be this way! I thought, you know, after the war that everything would work out. You and Ron would be together and Harry and I would be together. Mum even started dropping marriage hints, as though that wasn't at the front of my mind all the time anyway.
"But it wasn't what I thought it would be," she continued, lowering her voice so that Hermione had to lean forward to hear. Ginny met her gaze and Hermione was surprised to see that Ginny was actually crying, something she had not often done in the brunette's presence. Hermione remained silent, letting Ginny express the emotion that she had probably been withholding for quite some time.
A few moments later, the redhead went on, her speech interrupted by sporadic hiccups as she fought through her own misery. "Harry wanted so badly for everything to be normal, but he didn't seem to understand that he was an extraordinary wizard, he couldn't have normal. He came home from the Auror office every day and I could see what it cost him to bury everything so that it wouldn't disturb our little relationship. I knew that he was keeping things from me, for my own good he said, and that created a rift between us. Then one day I woke up and realized that my boyfriend was a stranger to me. I could no more tell you his deepest fear than his favorite dessert."
She said all this without a trace of bitterness, as though we was relating a rather uninteresting story that had happened to someone long ago. Then her eyes grew less clouded and she looked up at Hermione, who was regarding her sympathetically even as her mind brought forth the answers to those questions Ginny had never learned for herself.
"For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing," said Hermione gently.
"Did I?" replied Ginny in that same light tone. They might have been discussing a homework assignment.
Hermione nodded fervently, sensing that Ginny still had to be convinced. "Of course! Ginny, you deserve someone who won't hold back, who's searching for the same things in life that you are, who gives himself freely and asks for nothing in return but that you do the same."
Ginny looked up at Hermione, an expression of shock written all over her tear-stained face. "Hermione," she said in awe, "that was the most romantic speech you've ever made!"
With a laugh, Hermione joked, "Yeah, I must have picked it up from your brother. Did you know he gave Harry his book on how to pick up women?"
Ginny's hand flew up to slap her cheek in astonishment. "Did he really?" she giggled.
Hermione just nodded, not trusting herself to speak lest she burst out laughing. She stared around Ginny's room as their giggling died down and felt a wave of nostalgia crashing over her. After all the talks they had had as girls about Harry, Hermione could never have predicted that someday she would be encouraging Ginny to give him up. She looked up at the witch in question, who was studying her fingernails with the ghost of a grin still on her face, and made a decision. In as casual a tone as she could muster, she said, "So you and Neville seemed to be getting along well earlier…"
"I remember what you said that night," Ginny said, interrupting Hermione's reverie. Hermione looked at her quizzically; she had said a lot of things that night. "About me deserving someone who wouldn't hold back, someone who was searching for the same things as me and who asks for nothing in return but that I give him what he's given me."
Hermione nodded, remembering that little speech and just as unsure where it had come from now as she had been then.
Ginny took a deep breath and stared straight into Hermione's eyes. "I'm just going to put it bluntly: you love Harry."
Warning bells were going off in Hermione's head and the word 'DENY' was flashing in bright red letters in her mind. She spluttered, "What-er, I don't know what you-nuh uh!"
"Oh, that was eloquent, Hermione," Ginny teased, but she was laughing.
"It's supposed to be a secret!" she exclaimed childishly.
Ginny let out a bellow of a laugh that Hermione had difficulty reconciling with her small size. "What is this, fifth year?!"
"I thought you'd be upset with me," Hermione explained in a small voice, not daring to look up at the girl who had loved Harry Potter for years.
"Oh, Hermione," said Ginny with that same maddeningly understanding smile as before.
Suddenly, white hot anger engulfed her. She had lamented her situation before and pitied herself in weaker moments, but now she grew downright livid. Springing up from the chair, she began to pace Ginny's living room in quick, measured steps. Her hand flew up to her neck, resuming her relatively recently acquired habit of stroking the slightly raised white scar that ran across her neck in a thin, white line. "Don't 'Oh, Hermione' me!" she cried. "I'm finished offering advice! Now I want to know, what am I supposed to do!"
"Well you could tell Harry how you feel for one thing," said Ginny as though it were plainly obvious. She didn't flinch when Hermione threw a baleful glare in her direction.
"You know that's impossible, Ginny. In case you haven't noticed, Harry is now engaged to be married." Just saying the words made her nauseated. "And I was the one who made the introduction!"
The younger witch stood and reached up to put her hands gently on Hermione's shoulders, keeping her in place. "Engagements aren't final Hermione. Do you really want to go the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had just told Harry you love him?"
Hermione said nothing, her eyes cast down on the carpet.
"I don't understand you!" Ginny exclaimed, some annoyance in her tone. Hermione jumped and her brown eyes came up to meet Ginny's. "I've listened to you tell me for years that I deserved something better. Why can't you take your own advice?"
To her chagrin, Hermione felt a single tear making its way slowly down her cheek. "You're right, I know you are," she said, stepping out of Ginny's grasp and turning away toward the fireplace. Half a dozen picture frames lined the mantelpiece, all featuring some combination of the trio, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. A sad smile spread across her face as she continued. "But I'm not brave like you. I could never admit to him how I feel because I couldn't possibly live with the consequences. Logically, I should not take the risk of ruining our friendship."
"Oh, hang logic!" Ginny cried.
Hermione turned to face her confidant, her resolve strengthened. "No, Ginny. I've made my bed, now just let me lie in it."
The younger witch did not seem entirely satisfied with the course of the conversation but kept quiet.
Using the palms of her hands to dry the moisture on her cheeks and smooth away her hair from her face, Hermione expelled her grief in a sigh and forced a smile. "So, tell me more about you and Professor Longbottom?"
The pair passed the rest of the day making small talk and catching each other up on events that had transpired while Ginny was away during Quidditch season. Neither again broached the subject of Hermione's feelings for Harry, but he was not far from Hermione's mind all afternoon.
Ginny had admitted that Harry did not divulge much about his career to Ginny during their relationship, and she had seen evidence that morning that Harry did not seem to have shared his experiences in the war with Elizabeth either. She frowned, wondering if it bothered Elizabeth as much as it would bother her, Hermione, and as much as it had bothered Ginny.
She also wondered how much of his past Harry had shared with Ginny. While she was putting on her coat to leave, Hermione could no longer ignore the nagging curiosity. "Ginny, do you know if Harry likes mushrooms?"
Ginny shrugged, following the brunette to the door. "No idea, but I know that Ron absolutely detests them. Probably the only food he won't eat. Why?"
"Just wondering." She smiled, hoping that her gratitude for Ginny listening to her troubles showed, and waved goodbye. The smile dropped from her face when she heard the sound of the door clicking shut. With a suppressed groan, she remembered that Elizabeth wanted to speak to her that evening. What on earth could she possibly have to say that required her to request a meeting?
Rubbing her fingers idly across the scar on her neck, Hermione reached the ground floor of Ginny's building and with a cursory glance for Muggles, Apparated with a soft pop to the front step of Number 12. The act, though she had done it many times in the interim, brought back a rushing sense of déjà vu, causing her to shiver involuntarily as she opened the door and hung her coat on a peg in the entryway.
"Cold?" came a voice from the dark end of the hall. She recognized it as Harry's but jumped at the sudden sound just the same.
She squinted in his direction, her eyes not yet used to the lack of light, and replied, "Not really, just Apparated on the front step is all."
Harry nodded in understanding, his expression growing serious.
With an air of wanting to get it overwith as soon as possible, Hermione said, "So what did you and Elizabeth want to talk to me about?"
His face lit up at once and Hermione felt a pang of envy, wishing that one day she might have a man who looked like that when he thought of her. "Here let me call her. She wants to be the one to tell you, and I'm sure she'll kill me if I spoil it. Lizzie!" he called up the stairs.
"Yeah?" she called back, her voice both soft and carrying. Hermione and Harry looked up the landing on the next floor where Elizabeth stood, leaning over the rail. "Oh, is Hermione home?" she said. Without waiting for an answer, she gracefully descended the steps and approached the pair where they were standing in the entryway. She was practically bouncing with excitement, Hermione noted, and a weight suddenly dropped onto her shoulders as she realized why.
As they relocated into the kitchen, where a cheerful fire crackled merrily in the grate, Elizabeth seized Hermione's hand and steered her so that they sat beside each other at the table. "Harry and I have discussed it and we think that since you and Ron are Harry's best friends, we want you both to be in the wedding somehow. We've already asked Ron to be the best man and Hermione, we would be delighted if you would consent to be my Maid of Honor."
Along with the leaden weight on her shoulders, Hermione's insides turned to ice. She wanted to laugh at the thought of Ginny's suggestion now. What kind of Maid of Honor would she be if she stole the groom away from the bride? She knew that there was only one answer to Elizabeth's question. With a happiness that she certainly did not feel, Hermione smiled and the words came of their own accord. "I can't imagine anything I would like more."
Elizabeth let out a squeal of pleasure and engulfed Hermione in a bone-crushing hug. When she pulled away, Hermione could see tears of joy in her black eyes as she began relating all of the many plans she had for the wedding. When she glanced at Harry, she realized she too had tears streaming down her face. But the couple did not seem to consider that her tears could be anything but happy.
A/N: Whatcha think?