{Fic: Harry Potter} Honey and Lavender
Rating: PG at the most, I think.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.
Summary: She was just trying to help a friend. Falling hadn't been anywhere near the blueprints.
Pairing: One-sided Hermione/Ginny, Harry/Ginny
Word Count: 1800
Status: Complete
“You have to help me,” the red-headed girl gasped, grabbing Hermione’s hand and dragging her out of the hallway and into an empty classroom.
Ron and Harry tried to follow two girls, but Ginny shook her head emphatically.
Hermione shrugged at her bewildered friends. “You might as well go on to breakfast.”
“All right,” Ron agreed quickly as his stomach growled loudly. “See you later.”
Ginny closed the door as soon as the boys disappeared down the hallway. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she said quietly, slumping against the closed door.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked anxiously. “What’s happened?”
“I need your help,” Ginny said, her voice small and rather pathetic-sounding.
“All right,” Hermione said soothingly. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see what I can do.” What could have happened? A misplaced hex? An ill-planned barrage of stink bombs?
Or something more serious, like forgotten homework?
“It’s Harry,” the younger girl replied mournfully.
Hermione blinked, her racing mind falling from calamity to Ginny’s crush on Harry in a split second.
She kept her thoughts of what else is new? to herself and chose to be more sympathetic. “What can I do?” she asked quietly.
“You can make him like me,” Ginny suggested eagerly, but Hermione was already shaking her head.
“You don’t really want me to do that,” Hermione said. “It wouldn’t last and then he’d just be mad at us both.”
Ginny didn’t appear surprised, but her deflated expression reminded Hermione of a kicked puppy. “But you could try not being so shy around him,” Hermione suggested quickly.
“I don’t act shy!” Ginny replied indignantly, shaking her head angrily. Her long red hair fanned out and shone in the light from the window. “I talk, don’t I?”
“No,” Hermione corrected, “you stutter. Which is rather worse, I should think.“
“Okay, fine. I stutter. So what? Harry always stammered around that Cho girl, and she still liked him!”
Hermione shook her head firmly. “It’s not the same thing, Ginny.”
Ginny looked as if she was going to argue, but then appeared to change her mind. “All right, no shyness, no stuttering,” she agreed finally. “What else can I do?”
“Just try that for now,” Hermione said, glancing down at her watch. “We have to get to class now.”
Ginny nodded, smiled, and walked out of the room looking considerably more cheerful.
---
“What did Ginny want?” Harry asked quietly when Hermione slipped into her chair next to him and Ron.
Hermione considered saying You, but very briefly only. Ginny would perform a bat bogey hex, at the very least, if Hermione were to betray her like that.
“Homework,” Hermione answered instead. She didn’t like lying and she wasn’t particularly good at it, but it was necessary. Homework was a safe answer because neither boy would question it.
Sure enough, Harry turned back to the game of hang man that he and Rom were playing.
Hermione just rolled her eyes, for once not lecturing the two for not listening to Professor Binn’s droning along. She did, however, vow to put her notes where Harry and Ron wouldn’t be able to find them come exam week.
A little vindictive pleasure never hurt anyone.
---
The next night, Hermione was sitting at the fire, doing her homework with Ron begging her to help him with a potions essay. She had been alternating refusing and ignoring him for the past half hour while Harry just rolled his eyes and stayed out of the way.
Finally, she finished her own essay and made a retreat to her dormitory. Ron almost tried to follow, but, remembering his incident with the stairs the year before, wisely decided against.
She was just dozing off when the dormitory door crept slowly open. She just rolled over, knowing that it was just one of the other girls going to bed.
She jolted awake when the curtains of her bed were pulled back.
“It’s just me,” she heard Ginny’s voice whisper in the darkness. The bed dipped as the younger crept up and closed the curtains again.
“That’s my leg,” Hermione whispered, fumbling for her wand under her pillow. She cast a silencing charm so that they could speak without waking any of her roommates, but didn’t bother with Lumos. She was just too sleepy.
“What are you doing?” Hermione yawned, not keeping her voice down now that they wouldn’t bother anyone.
“It’s not working.” Ginny’s voice was forlorn in the darkness.
Without sight, Hermione’s other senses were sharpened. She could smell Ginny now. In all the times that she’d stayed at the Weasley’s house in Ginny’s room, she’d never noticed how good the other girl smelled - like honey and lavender mixed together. She’d never smelled anything quite like it before.
“Well,” Hermione said, slowly. “I guess you could…” she paused, wanting to help Ginny but at the same time not sure exactly how. “You both like Quidditch, don’t you?” she asked, finally.
“Yeah,” Ginny agreed, the bed creaking as she leaned forward, closer to Hermione.
Close enough that Hermione could feel her warm, chocolate-scented breath on her face as the younger girl waited for words of wisdom.
“Then you should talk to him more. Just - a little conversation with him could only help. Get him to notice you more, I mean,” Hermione said slowly. I don’t see how anyone could not notice you, she thought privately.
“You think that would help?” Ginny asked doubtfully.
Hermione shrugged, even though Ginny couldn’t see it in the dark. “It’s worth a try.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Ginny said quietly. “Thanks, Hermione.”
There was a wealth of gratitude and warmth that made Hermione feel almost guilty, even though she had no real reason to.
“G’night,” Ginny said, slipping off of the bed and padding quietly to the door.
“Good night,” Hermione whispered after her.
---
The next day, Hermione went down to breakfast and saw Ron, Harry and Ginny sitting together and apparently debating something.
She sat down with them and smiled at Ginny. After checking to make sure that the two boys were engrossed in their debate, Ginny winked at Hermione.
---
About a week later, Ginny found Hermione sitting alone at a little corner table in the library, studying
Ginny pulled a pile of books off of one of the chairs and sat down, looking sadly at Hermione.
“It’s still not working,” she practically moaned.
“Calm down,” Hermione said soothingly. “And be quiet. Madam Pince is everywhere tonight.”
“What can I do now?” Ginny asked, much quieter now. Quiet enough that Hermione had to lean closer across the table to hear her.
Hermione debated her answer, trying to think of a way to help Ginny. The other girl looked so sad. A girl as pretty as her should not be mooning over the one boy that had never really noticed her.
She took a deep breath, noticing the now-familiar scent that was Ginny. No matter how many times she smelled it, it wasn’t any less amazing.
“Well,” she began slowly.
“What?” Ginny asked eagerly, and she was close enough that Hermione could feel her breath warm and soft on her face.
“Maybe you should try seeing other people,” Hermione offered quietly.
“How could that possibly help?” Ginny snorted, and Hermione felt strangely disappointed.
“Well,” she swallowed. “Maybe - maybe you’re trying too hard. Maybe it would help to just try something different.”
“But - why?” Ginny’s voice was quiet, and a little disappointed, like she had been expecting Hermione to miraculously get Harry to fall in love with her.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, and when Ginny raised an eyebrow, she hastily amended, “I mean, it’s just a feeling. Come on - say you’ll try it, at least?”
Ginny nodded slowly, reluctantly. “You really think it would help?”
Hermione nodded, trying to look certain while hoping that she wasn’t horribly wrong. It was entirely possible, even though it was something she’d never really thought about before. But it was the best thing that she could come up with. “I do,” she said firmly.
Ginny’s face set in resolve and she stood up. On the other side of the room a group of students were sitting in the middle of an army of books. One of the students, a boy that Hermione thought was named Michael Corner, stood up and headed towards a bookshelf near Hermione and Ginny’s table.
Ginny headed off to intercept the boy with a nod to Hermione.
Hermione managed to watch maybe twenty seconds of the flirting before she had to drop her gaze. Her fists were clenched tight enough that her nails were leaving indents in the skin of her palms. Her feelings were confusing her, because surely she had no reason for jealousy or for anger.
Or for the inexplicable pain in her chest, her head, her stomach - it was everywhere, surrounding her, and she had no idea why.
Though, really, she was lying to herself. She knew exactly why - she just didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. It would complicate things far too much, and there was absolutely nothing good that could come of it.
She’d seen Ginny’s eyes whenever she saw Harry, or even when someone said his name. It was more than just a crush, more than just puppy love, and hurt her, a dull throb in her chest, that clenched painfully every time Ginny’s eyes lit up like that.
Ginny was in love with Harry, and nothing Hermione said or did - or felt - could change that. It was exactly like what she had told Ginny in the beginning - it isn’t possible to force someone to love you with magic, it would always turn to hate in the end.
She packed up her homework and fled past the flirting pair to her dormitory.
And if she forgot to place a silencing charm, none of her roommates mentioned the quiet sobs that had continued until they had been replaced by deep, slow breaths.
---
Time passed, and Ginny’s boyfriends came and went. By the time they returned to Hogwarts the next year, Hermione had lost track of how many there had been.
That wasn’t to say that it didn’t still hurt when she saw Ginny with one of them. It did, more than she couldn’t possibly explain or justify. She tried to ignore it whenever she could, but it didn’t help.
It pervaded her every thought and emotion - the despair, the agony of knowing that Ginny could never (would never) be hers.
The worst thing was that when the day came that Harry kissed Ginny (in front of the entire house of Gryffindor, no less) she couldn’t even begrudge Harry and Ginny their happiness.
What they had had always been possible. What she wanted was impossible.
She had helped Ginny to get Harry to notice her, so in a way, it was her own fault that she was like this, in this pain. Every day, she watched her best friend and her dream together, and she couldn’t even be jealous without feeling guilty.
Even though it was killing her, she couldn’t make herself regret that she had created the perfect angel.
---
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. It’s my first jaunt into the HP fandom. I’ve read in here only a little, so I hope that this isn’t too clichéd.
If you saw any mistakes - grammatical, unintentionally messed-up canon (I haven’t read the books in a while) or anything, please let me know!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.
Summary: She was just trying to help a friend. Falling hadn't been anywhere near the blueprints.
Pairing: One-sided Hermione/Ginny, Harry/Ginny
Word Count: 1800
Status: Complete
“You have to help me,” the red-headed girl gasped, grabbing Hermione’s hand and dragging her out of the hallway and into an empty classroom.
Ron and Harry tried to follow two girls, but Ginny shook her head emphatically.
Hermione shrugged at her bewildered friends. “You might as well go on to breakfast.”
“All right,” Ron agreed quickly as his stomach growled loudly. “See you later.”
Ginny closed the door as soon as the boys disappeared down the hallway. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she said quietly, slumping against the closed door.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked anxiously. “What’s happened?”
“I need your help,” Ginny said, her voice small and rather pathetic-sounding.
“All right,” Hermione said soothingly. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see what I can do.” What could have happened? A misplaced hex? An ill-planned barrage of stink bombs?
Or something more serious, like forgotten homework?
“It’s Harry,” the younger girl replied mournfully.
Hermione blinked, her racing mind falling from calamity to Ginny’s crush on Harry in a split second.
She kept her thoughts of what else is new? to herself and chose to be more sympathetic. “What can I do?” she asked quietly.
“You can make him like me,” Ginny suggested eagerly, but Hermione was already shaking her head.
“You don’t really want me to do that,” Hermione said. “It wouldn’t last and then he’d just be mad at us both.”
Ginny didn’t appear surprised, but her deflated expression reminded Hermione of a kicked puppy. “But you could try not being so shy around him,” Hermione suggested quickly.
“I don’t act shy!” Ginny replied indignantly, shaking her head angrily. Her long red hair fanned out and shone in the light from the window. “I talk, don’t I?”
“No,” Hermione corrected, “you stutter. Which is rather worse, I should think.“
“Okay, fine. I stutter. So what? Harry always stammered around that Cho girl, and she still liked him!”
Hermione shook her head firmly. “It’s not the same thing, Ginny.”
Ginny looked as if she was going to argue, but then appeared to change her mind. “All right, no shyness, no stuttering,” she agreed finally. “What else can I do?”
“Just try that for now,” Hermione said, glancing down at her watch. “We have to get to class now.”
Ginny nodded, smiled, and walked out of the room looking considerably more cheerful.
---
“What did Ginny want?” Harry asked quietly when Hermione slipped into her chair next to him and Ron.
Hermione considered saying You, but very briefly only. Ginny would perform a bat bogey hex, at the very least, if Hermione were to betray her like that.
“Homework,” Hermione answered instead. She didn’t like lying and she wasn’t particularly good at it, but it was necessary. Homework was a safe answer because neither boy would question it.
Sure enough, Harry turned back to the game of hang man that he and Rom were playing.
Hermione just rolled her eyes, for once not lecturing the two for not listening to Professor Binn’s droning along. She did, however, vow to put her notes where Harry and Ron wouldn’t be able to find them come exam week.
A little vindictive pleasure never hurt anyone.
---
The next night, Hermione was sitting at the fire, doing her homework with Ron begging her to help him with a potions essay. She had been alternating refusing and ignoring him for the past half hour while Harry just rolled his eyes and stayed out of the way.
Finally, she finished her own essay and made a retreat to her dormitory. Ron almost tried to follow, but, remembering his incident with the stairs the year before, wisely decided against.
She was just dozing off when the dormitory door crept slowly open. She just rolled over, knowing that it was just one of the other girls going to bed.
She jolted awake when the curtains of her bed were pulled back.
“It’s just me,” she heard Ginny’s voice whisper in the darkness. The bed dipped as the younger crept up and closed the curtains again.
“That’s my leg,” Hermione whispered, fumbling for her wand under her pillow. She cast a silencing charm so that they could speak without waking any of her roommates, but didn’t bother with Lumos. She was just too sleepy.
“What are you doing?” Hermione yawned, not keeping her voice down now that they wouldn’t bother anyone.
“It’s not working.” Ginny’s voice was forlorn in the darkness.
Without sight, Hermione’s other senses were sharpened. She could smell Ginny now. In all the times that she’d stayed at the Weasley’s house in Ginny’s room, she’d never noticed how good the other girl smelled - like honey and lavender mixed together. She’d never smelled anything quite like it before.
“Well,” Hermione said, slowly. “I guess you could…” she paused, wanting to help Ginny but at the same time not sure exactly how. “You both like Quidditch, don’t you?” she asked, finally.
“Yeah,” Ginny agreed, the bed creaking as she leaned forward, closer to Hermione.
Close enough that Hermione could feel her warm, chocolate-scented breath on her face as the younger girl waited for words of wisdom.
“Then you should talk to him more. Just - a little conversation with him could only help. Get him to notice you more, I mean,” Hermione said slowly. I don’t see how anyone could not notice you, she thought privately.
“You think that would help?” Ginny asked doubtfully.
Hermione shrugged, even though Ginny couldn’t see it in the dark. “It’s worth a try.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Ginny said quietly. “Thanks, Hermione.”
There was a wealth of gratitude and warmth that made Hermione feel almost guilty, even though she had no real reason to.
“G’night,” Ginny said, slipping off of the bed and padding quietly to the door.
“Good night,” Hermione whispered after her.
---
The next day, Hermione went down to breakfast and saw Ron, Harry and Ginny sitting together and apparently debating something.
She sat down with them and smiled at Ginny. After checking to make sure that the two boys were engrossed in their debate, Ginny winked at Hermione.
---
About a week later, Ginny found Hermione sitting alone at a little corner table in the library, studying
Ginny pulled a pile of books off of one of the chairs and sat down, looking sadly at Hermione.
“It’s still not working,” she practically moaned.
“Calm down,” Hermione said soothingly. “And be quiet. Madam Pince is everywhere tonight.”
“What can I do now?” Ginny asked, much quieter now. Quiet enough that Hermione had to lean closer across the table to hear her.
Hermione debated her answer, trying to think of a way to help Ginny. The other girl looked so sad. A girl as pretty as her should not be mooning over the one boy that had never really noticed her.
She took a deep breath, noticing the now-familiar scent that was Ginny. No matter how many times she smelled it, it wasn’t any less amazing.
“Well,” she began slowly.
“What?” Ginny asked eagerly, and she was close enough that Hermione could feel her breath warm and soft on her face.
“Maybe you should try seeing other people,” Hermione offered quietly.
“How could that possibly help?” Ginny snorted, and Hermione felt strangely disappointed.
“Well,” she swallowed. “Maybe - maybe you’re trying too hard. Maybe it would help to just try something different.”
“But - why?” Ginny’s voice was quiet, and a little disappointed, like she had been expecting Hermione to miraculously get Harry to fall in love with her.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, and when Ginny raised an eyebrow, she hastily amended, “I mean, it’s just a feeling. Come on - say you’ll try it, at least?”
Ginny nodded slowly, reluctantly. “You really think it would help?”
Hermione nodded, trying to look certain while hoping that she wasn’t horribly wrong. It was entirely possible, even though it was something she’d never really thought about before. But it was the best thing that she could come up with. “I do,” she said firmly.
Ginny’s face set in resolve and she stood up. On the other side of the room a group of students were sitting in the middle of an army of books. One of the students, a boy that Hermione thought was named Michael Corner, stood up and headed towards a bookshelf near Hermione and Ginny’s table.
Ginny headed off to intercept the boy with a nod to Hermione.
Hermione managed to watch maybe twenty seconds of the flirting before she had to drop her gaze. Her fists were clenched tight enough that her nails were leaving indents in the skin of her palms. Her feelings were confusing her, because surely she had no reason for jealousy or for anger.
Or for the inexplicable pain in her chest, her head, her stomach - it was everywhere, surrounding her, and she had no idea why.
Though, really, she was lying to herself. She knew exactly why - she just didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. It would complicate things far too much, and there was absolutely nothing good that could come of it.
She’d seen Ginny’s eyes whenever she saw Harry, or even when someone said his name. It was more than just a crush, more than just puppy love, and hurt her, a dull throb in her chest, that clenched painfully every time Ginny’s eyes lit up like that.
Ginny was in love with Harry, and nothing Hermione said or did - or felt - could change that. It was exactly like what she had told Ginny in the beginning - it isn’t possible to force someone to love you with magic, it would always turn to hate in the end.
She packed up her homework and fled past the flirting pair to her dormitory.
And if she forgot to place a silencing charm, none of her roommates mentioned the quiet sobs that had continued until they had been replaced by deep, slow breaths.
---
Time passed, and Ginny’s boyfriends came and went. By the time they returned to Hogwarts the next year, Hermione had lost track of how many there had been.
That wasn’t to say that it didn’t still hurt when she saw Ginny with one of them. It did, more than she couldn’t possibly explain or justify. She tried to ignore it whenever she could, but it didn’t help.
It pervaded her every thought and emotion - the despair, the agony of knowing that Ginny could never (would never) be hers.
The worst thing was that when the day came that Harry kissed Ginny (in front of the entire house of Gryffindor, no less) she couldn’t even begrudge Harry and Ginny their happiness.
What they had had always been possible. What she wanted was impossible.
She had helped Ginny to get Harry to notice her, so in a way, it was her own fault that she was like this, in this pain. Every day, she watched her best friend and her dream together, and she couldn’t even be jealous without feeling guilty.
Even though it was killing her, she couldn’t make herself regret that she had created the perfect angel.
---
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. It’s my first jaunt into the HP fandom. I’ve read in here only a little, so I hope that this isn’t too clichéd.
If you saw any mistakes - grammatical, unintentionally messed-up canon (I haven’t read the books in a while) or anything, please let me know!