Oh, goodness! Sorry about the late chapter. To be quite honest since the summer started I've sort of lost track of the days (it's difficult to remember when it's Tuesday or Wednesday when you're not attending school!) and completely forgot that today (or rather a little less than twenty minutes ago) was Wednesday. But, hey! It's still Wednesday in a good part of the world, so, um…yay? Heh.
This chapter isn't all that big on dialogue but hopefully you'll still enjoy it. It examines Ginny's state of mind a bit, so you get a better understanding of her character (hopefully). I know at least one of you had some questions regarding Ginny's sketchy behavior (i.e. supporting Andrew/Hermione and then doing a 180 when she found out Hermione was moving).
Hope you enjoy! See you next Wednesday. :-)
*****
Hermione walked up the steps to her old house, holding her breath as she arrived at the door. She took in a deep breath, various floral scents affronting her senses. Despite her anxiety, she couldn't help but laugh lightly. As always her mother had clearly dedicated a fair portion of her free time to gardening.
Hand shaking, Hermione reached up and pressed her old doorbell as firmly as she could in her state. As she waited for someone to answer, she wondered how she would tell her parents that she was engaged. It wasn't that they didn't want her to get married (goodness knows her mother had been harping on her to do so for years now), but all the same…. She couldn't help but stress over their possible reactions. She was relieved Andrew had agreed to let her break the news on her own. He had insisted on accompanying her, but Hermione had convinced him that it would be better if she did this on her own. For some reason the idea of discussing her impending marriage while Andrew was there terrified her. Merlin only knew what she was going to do when they began planning the wedding.
The door opened, shaking Hermione out of her reverie. A woman in her late 50s to early 60s with short, brown hair that was beginning to gray cried out, "Hermione!"
"Mum," Hermione smiled, giving her mother a hug and stepping inside. Mrs Granger quickly shut the door as she called for her husband to join them.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Mrs Granger inquired, ushering her daughter into the living room. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but you didn't even call, dear."
"Actually, I need to tell you something," Hermione answered, offering her mother a nervous smile.
Mrs Granger stopped and surveyed her only child. "You're not pregnant, are you?" she asked suspiciously. "Because while there's nothing wrong with having a child out of wedlock in this day and age (I suppose), you really should find yourself a great support system. Raising a child on your own won't be easy, not to mention the costs, and - "
"You're pregnant?" demanded a male voice, and Hermione whipped around to find her father glaring disapprovingly at her.
"Oh, now don't get yourself into one of your moods," Mrs Granger chastised as Hermione just stared open mouthed at her assuming parents. "You know how many women are single mothers today. Why just yesterday Anna was telling me about how her niece - you know, her sister-in-law's child - is pregnant and planning to do it all on her own. But like I said, Hermione, dear," Mrs Granger turned to Hermione, "she has a wonderful support system. Would you like her number?"
"No, I would not like her number!" Hermione said in a faint voice, collapsing into a nearby armchair.
"Dizzy spell?" Mrs Granger inquired sympathetically. "I got those constantly when I was pregnant with you. Now what I find is best is to- "
"Mother, I am not pregnant!"
Mrs Granger did a double take. "You're not?"
"No!" Hermione cried, clearly exasperated. "Not at all. Not even in the slightest. Merlin!" The wizarding exclamation escaped her lips, and her parents exchanged looks that clearly said, "There she goes with that magic world of hers."
Mr Granger was the first to recover from this news. "Well thank God," he exclaimed, wiping his brow. "I was very worried for a moment there, Hermione. You shouldn't scare us like that."
"Scare you?" Hermione looked offended. "Scare you? All I said was, `I need to tell you something,' and Mum started in on me about the whole pregnancy thing!"
"No need to raise your voice," her parents said in unison. Hermione contained the urge to roll her eyes. Even today her parents still scolded her together.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said sincerely, knowing that her nerves were getting the best of her. "I didn't mean to, honest. I just…I really need to talk to you."
"Well all right then," Mrs Granger agreed, sitting down across from Hermione. Mr Granger followed suit. "What's got you so worked up, dear?"
"Well, you see…I…that is…" Hermione took in a deep breath and then announced, "I'm engaged!" She produced her left hand, showing off the diamond ring that had taken residence on her ring finger for a few days now.
Mrs Granger's jaw dropped. She immediately grabbed Hermione's hand, pulled it firmly towards her, and examined it, as if making sure that Hermione was actually engaged. Hermione's eyes rolled toward the ceiling once more. Was it so difficult to believe that she could get married?
Once Mrs Granger had arrived at the conclusion that her daughter was telling the truth, she let go of Hermione's hand and cried, "Engaged to whom, exactly?"
Hermione stared at her mother in disbelief. "What do you mean engaged to whom?" she demanded. "Andrew, of course! Who else could there be?"
"Well there's that Ronald boy you dated back in school," Mrs Granger replied reasonably, looking to her husband for silent support, which he provided through a short nod, "and then there's Harry, of course."
"What do you mean, `Then there's Harry, of course'?" Hermione asked defensively, feeling her stomach fill up with butterflies at the very mention of marrying Harry.
"Nothing, dear. Just that you two are very close."
"Because he's my best friend! Why would I be marrying my best friend when I'm already in a three year long relationship?"
"I haven't a clue, Hermione," Mrs Granger answered calmly. "Maybe he knocked you up after a one night stand due to haphazard drinking?"
Hermione stared at her mother in disbelief. "Mum, you do realise who I am, right?"
"Well I didn't say he did, Hermione," Mrs Granger laughed with a wave of her hand. "We cleared that whole pregnancy scare thing right up, didn't we?"
"It wasn't a pregnancy scare," Hermione angrily muttered under her breath.
"But I'm sure you let loose every once in a while, no matter how sensible you may be," Mrs Granger reasoned.
"Yes, but not by randomly sleeping with my best friends after getting myself sloshed at some seedy bar!"
Mrs Granger was about to reply when Mr Granger stepped in, recognising that a mother-daughter feud was about to begin. "What your mother meant to say was that she's very happy for you. We both are." He offered his daughter a soft smile as he walked towards her. Placing a firm hand on her shoulder he told her, "Just let us know about your wedding plans and we'll be happy to pay. Just nothing too extraordinary."
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly overcome by emotion at her father's sincerity. "Thanks, Dad," she told him, standing up to give him a firm hug. Glancing over his shoulder to her waiting mother, Hermione half laughed, half sighed and opened her arms, indicating her mother to join her. Mrs Granger eagerly complied, and soon both Hermione's parents embraced her. She placed her head in the groove between their shoulders. She might have been a full grown adult, and her mother might grate on her nerves every other second, but there was nothing quite as comforting as being held by both her mother and her father.
*****
"ARGH!"
It was Ginny Weasley's seventh scream of the day and it wasn't even noon yet.
She stared at her useless piece of parchment. Overcome by anger once more, she balled the poor thing up and threw it into the waiting rubbish bin. She would've knocked over her ink well if she hadn't been conscious of the fact that it would stain her carpet. She was in no mood to call over her mother for some domestic spell necessary to fix such a travesty.
She leaned back against her chair, groaning. The people around her really did not give her enough credit. They all assumed that she simply identified a problem, came up with a plan, put the plan in action, and ta da! Problem solved, leaving Ginny to bask in her glory.
If only life were so simple.
None of them knew (not that she would ever let them know) that she spent hours, sometimes days, concocting her schemes. This one was especially difficult. She had failed to devise a plan over the weekend, something that had not only frustrated her immensely, but was now causing her financial pain. She had sent an owl into her office informing them that she would be unable to come to work today due to an "illness." That was one less sick day (and one less day of paid leave) available to her in the future.
Granted, she knew it would've been useless had she gone in today. After all, she was hardly in the mood to tell new and untrained staff writers why their fashion ideas belonged in a magazine from the 1950s (sometimes being a managing editor was so stressful), and she most likely would've spent the entire work day staring into space and drafting dreadful plan after dreadful plan.
Still. She had expected that she would've come up with something after brainstorming for five hours. Yet so far all she had was a rubbish bin overflowing with parchment and a quill worn down to its feather. Not exactly what Ginny had in mind when she had told her brother that all they needed to do was get Harry and Hermione together.
Not exactly what she had in mind at all.
She flung her head into her arms, emitting a small moan. She highly doubted anyone imagined this when they thought of Ginny Weasley - not even her closest friends and family. She was always in control, always right, so arrogantly so.
They hadn't a clue how much work went into maintaining that face.
Not that she had any regrets - she loved being the one that everyone just knew they could never doubt. But once in a while, such as today, it became tiring, especially when facing such an arduous talk.
Because while Ginny Weasley loved a challenge with all of her heart - what better way to make everyone ooh and ahh? - she hated to fail. And to be perfectly honest - not that she would even admit this, not even on her deathbed - she wasn't certain that she could carry out such an intense matchmaking scheme. Had this occurred several years ago, back in their Hogwarts years, then certainly; but now Harry and Hermione were so practiced in their denial that she had to wonder if even deep down they recognised their true feelings.
Ginny couldn't help but blame herself, just in the slightest. If she had only made a stronger attempt to get those two morons together those many years ago she wouldn't be faced with all of this stress. She had given it a couple of go's in seventh year after she realized they were inevitable, but those had been some of her first dips into the manipulation pool and, needless to say, she hadn't been successful. Nonetheless, Ginny hadn't really worried because she had honest to Merlin thought that eventually Harry and Hermione would get their act together and admit their feelings. But nope, never happened. Those two stubborn love birds circled around one another, getting closer and closer to revealing their emotions but never actually doing so, all the while becoming mixed up in emotionless relationship after emotionless relationship. But then Hermione had met Andrew, and while it was clear that she didn't felt nearly as strongly for him as she did Harry, she was happy. And who was Ginny to destroy Hermione's happiness?
Of course once Hermione had informed her that she was going to move to the States Ginny's happiness had been put on the chopping block, and Ginny had to put a stop to the ridiculous Hermione and Andrew charade before her happiness was beheaded, so to speak. Even if it meant Hermione experienced a little bit of agony.
After all, Ginny was a good friend, but she wasn't that good a friend - not that she would go through with this if she wasn't 100 percent certain that her actions would lead Harry and Hermione to a life of greater happiness, but she wasn't exactly solely motivated by this outcome.
Ginny picked her head back up, staring morosely at the blank piece of parchment. How on earth was she going to convince Harry to finally use his Gryffindor courage to admit his feelings for his best female friend? Surely he must realise that if Hermione left for the States he would rarely see her, something that Ginny was positive he could not handle. Hermione must have told him this during their little talk.
Ginny lit up as a thought occurred to her. Maybe that was it. Maybe she had to show Harry what life would be like when Hermione left. Even if he knew he wouldn't see Hermione he might have underestimated the toll it would take on not just his relationship with her, but on his life.
Grinning to herself, Ginny began penning the first few steps of her plan. Maybe she would make it to work tomorrow after all.
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