[RP Log: Ginny, Hermione. G]
Date: Wednesday, December 14th, 2005. Hush, now. There'll be worse to come.
Summary: Dean's attack kind of puts things into perspective for Ginny and she needs help to find answers to some questions about the boys (*snicker*) in her life.
Rating: G.
There was the dilemma that her boyfriend is currently holed up in the hospital wing, covered in what appears to be an abnormally large cucumber protruding from somewhere on his neck. Meanwhile, the rest of his body is either bruised, pale, cut, grazed or sheared. Although, knowing Madame Pomfrey, the only thing remaining of Dean's injuries now, would more than likely be the growth.
Ginny sighs, stretching her legs out onto the stool in front of her in an attempt to find comfort from the warmth that is reaching towards her from the dancing fire in the Common Room grate. She still hasn’t come to any conclusions.
If only...
Yes, well, 'if only' isn't going to help in this matter. In fact, it doesn't look like anything will.
If only Dean hadn't been attacked. Then he would've come to meet me like we'd arranged. And then I would've asked him what it was that he wanted from me and where he thought this was going, she finishes rebelliously, trying in vain to quash her conscience.
But now she’s racked with guilt -- can feel it pilling through her bloodstream, bringing goose bumps to her arms and legs. She knows that what she’s feeling is completely irrational. There’s no reasoning behind it but she can’t stop. She’s tired of feeling like this, tired of the ifs and buts that never seem to end. Maybe she’s wrong to doubt their relationship. Although she could swear that Dean feels that they’re growing apart as well.
In the last few weeks, as if in some desperate effort to hold on to what they have, he'd begun following her around like a shadow. It hadn't been until a few well-placed harsh words had been muttered in his ear that he realised what he’d been doing and backed off.
Harry. An image of her brother's best friend, fellow Quidditch teammate and captain immediately forms behind her closed eyes with stunning efficiency. And she doesn't want it to go away.
A snap of roasting wood in the grate makes her blink, her limbs heavy with forced ignorance. She has to make a decision about being with Dean soon, or she’s reasonably sure her heart, head -- or both -- will explode. "Fine," she snaps irritably under her breath, deciding that two heads are better than one.
Putting her feet to the ground, she pushes herself out of the chair with an exasperated hiss, remembering that she'd seen Hermione writing furiously in the corner a while ago.
Hermione was sat in the common room, not too far from Ginny who, as Hermione had noticed earlier, has been sitting by the fire for quite a while. She scribbles a few more inches on Professor Slughorn's essay about the many uses of Bezors as antidotes to various poisons. However, before she has the chance to read over what she has written, she notices Ginny walking towards her, a very distraught look on her face that causes Hermione's brows to crease in worry.
"I need to talk to you," Ginny tells her, sliding into a seat across the table.
And taking a deep breath, elbows braced on the table, she starts telling Hermione about everything; her doubts about Dean, the change in Harry's behaviour and her surprising surge of something in turn that makes her stomach flip over itself.
She remembers Hermione telling her to get on with her life, to go out with other people to see if Harry would perhaps take notice if he saw Ginny for what she was; not the stammering, red-faced, awed girl he'd known before. It had been good advice, but now she needs more.
Placing her quill on the table between the two, Hermione takes a minute to think about what Ginny has said, paying particular attention to the parts Ginny said that she is beginning to be annoyed by lots of little things Dean is doing and that she's finding more negative attributes about him than positive ones.
"Do you like him anymore?" Hermione simply asks. Sure, it’s a blunt question, but she decides that the answer Ginny gives her would help the younger Gryffindor decide whether she should break-up with Dean or try and salvage their relationship.
Ginny blinks at the question. It hasn't been one that she's considered along with the others that seem to be constantly clambering for attention in her brain. Love had been thought of, and the answer to that was a thoroughly drawn out justification that wrapped itself around the primary structure of no, she does not love Dean as a boyfriend anymore.
But like him? "I think that -- I." She stops, clasping her hands in front of her mouth and beginning a gentle tug on her thumb nail with her teeth. "I like Dean, he's... great. As a person. I just don't think I like being with him anymore,” she confesses, feeling the words squeeze through an unimaginably small hole in her throat. “It seems to take too much effort now and I'm always finding myself looking for an excuse that will get me out of having to meet with him, or -- or staying longer so that we can kiss or...." She gives Hermione a one-shouldered shrug, distractedly trying to remember the last time her and Dean had laughed together.
Hermione reaches across the table and pulls at Ginny's forearm, stopping her momentarily from biting her nails. "I -I think it would be best, for both you and Dean, to end things." She pauses for a second, eyeing the red-head in front of her for any sign that she is upset that Hermione is suggesting she break-up with her boyfriend. "I know that right now might not be the best time to do it seeing as he's in the Hospital Wing, but it needs to be done soon - for your sake."
Ginny removes her thumbnail and its attached digit from between her teeth, resting her chin on her hand instead. Hermione always seems to make sense of things calmly and, for a second, the tumble of Ginny's thoughts align and connect, glowing briefly as if to prove Hermione right. But then... "For my sake?" she repeats, not understanding.
Hermione gives a small smile, "Yes, for your sake, Ginny." She pauses. "Look at you, you're not happy - or at least you're not as cheerful as you usually are. You're so worried that you're going to hurt Dean in the process that you're not considering how it's affecting you."
Ginny hasn't thought about anything except her guilt for the last few days and now that Hermione says it, she’s surprised to realise that her friend's words are true. She is more tired than usual, she supposes. And she hasn't had an appetite at all in the last a couple of days, attending meals more out of habit than anything else.
"And Harry?" she asks after nodding in acknowledgement of Hermione’s explanation. She kicks herself mentally for feeling herself so greatly influenced by what Hermione is about to say, but judging by Harry's behaviour, he doesn't have a clue as to what to do either.
Hermione thinks a moment, not really sure how to explain Harry's recent behaviour. She originally assumed it had something to do with Voldemort and what happened at the Ministry last year, but she had realised a few days ago that that wasn’t the case. If it was, then he would have mentioned something to her and Ron.
"I'm not sure why Harry's acting weird, Ginny," Hermione sighs.
She knows Harry has been acting weird and she feels bad lying to her friend, but it wasn’t her place to tell. She and Harry had actually discussed his new found attraction to Ginny, along with a few other things, but she had promised to not say anything until he did.
"Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell you soon," Hermione says, giving Ginny a sympathetic look.
Ginny heaves a defeated sigh, slumping lower in her seat. Hermione's reassurances that she is doing the right thing to end her relationship with Dean have done something to clear up the spaghetti of whatwhywhowherehows in her head, and she knows that it’s something to be grateful for. But initiating it will be difficult.
Actions are harder than words, she thinks with an ironic twist of her mouth.
She leans forward, burying her face in the sleeve of her jumper. These are things she doesn't want to be thinking about. Especially so close to Christmas. But she can see the wisdom in it. And hopefully she’ll have everything cleared up by the time she leaves for home on Christmas Eve.
Giving a small 'wuff' as she exhales out of her nose, she finally straightens, giving Hermione a tired smile. "Thanks, Hermione." She hopes that her voice conveys how grateful she is for her friend’s advice. "You've been really helpful."
Hermione's chest tightens at seeing her friend look so defeated and she reaches across the table and places her hands on top of Ginny's.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asks, squeezing her friend’s hands. She feels horrible about not being able to tell Ginny the secret she knows, but again, it wasn’t her secret to tell.
Ginny smiles again, dropping her head slightly. "I'll be fine," she tells Hermione quietly. "It's been coming for a while, you know?" she continues, looking up again, her eyes sad and weary. "Thank you," she whispers suddenly, standing and reaching across the table to fold Hermione in a tight hug.
She checks her watch when she pulls away, deciding that tomorrow is the time for action; at the moment her bed is looking more than welcoming. "I'll see you at breakfast," she tells her friend, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn before making her way up the stairs to her bed and oblivion.
Summary: Dean's attack kind of puts things into perspective for Ginny and she needs help to find answers to some questions about the boys (*snicker*) in her life.
Rating: G.
There was the dilemma that her boyfriend is currently holed up in the hospital wing, covered in what appears to be an abnormally large cucumber protruding from somewhere on his neck. Meanwhile, the rest of his body is either bruised, pale, cut, grazed or sheared. Although, knowing Madame Pomfrey, the only thing remaining of Dean's injuries now, would more than likely be the growth.
Ginny sighs, stretching her legs out onto the stool in front of her in an attempt to find comfort from the warmth that is reaching towards her from the dancing fire in the Common Room grate. She still hasn’t come to any conclusions.
If only...
Yes, well, 'if only' isn't going to help in this matter. In fact, it doesn't look like anything will.
If only Dean hadn't been attacked. Then he would've come to meet me like we'd arranged. And then I would've asked him what it was that he wanted from me and where he thought this was going, she finishes rebelliously, trying in vain to quash her conscience.
But now she’s racked with guilt -- can feel it pilling through her bloodstream, bringing goose bumps to her arms and legs. She knows that what she’s feeling is completely irrational. There’s no reasoning behind it but she can’t stop. She’s tired of feeling like this, tired of the ifs and buts that never seem to end. Maybe she’s wrong to doubt their relationship. Although she could swear that Dean feels that they’re growing apart as well.
In the last few weeks, as if in some desperate effort to hold on to what they have, he'd begun following her around like a shadow. It hadn't been until a few well-placed harsh words had been muttered in his ear that he realised what he’d been doing and backed off.
Harry. An image of her brother's best friend, fellow Quidditch teammate and captain immediately forms behind her closed eyes with stunning efficiency. And she doesn't want it to go away.
A snap of roasting wood in the grate makes her blink, her limbs heavy with forced ignorance. She has to make a decision about being with Dean soon, or she’s reasonably sure her heart, head -- or both -- will explode. "Fine," she snaps irritably under her breath, deciding that two heads are better than one.
Putting her feet to the ground, she pushes herself out of the chair with an exasperated hiss, remembering that she'd seen Hermione writing furiously in the corner a while ago.
Hermione was sat in the common room, not too far from Ginny who, as Hermione had noticed earlier, has been sitting by the fire for quite a while. She scribbles a few more inches on Professor Slughorn's essay about the many uses of Bezors as antidotes to various poisons. However, before she has the chance to read over what she has written, she notices Ginny walking towards her, a very distraught look on her face that causes Hermione's brows to crease in worry.
"I need to talk to you," Ginny tells her, sliding into a seat across the table.
And taking a deep breath, elbows braced on the table, she starts telling Hermione about everything; her doubts about Dean, the change in Harry's behaviour and her surprising surge of something in turn that makes her stomach flip over itself.
She remembers Hermione telling her to get on with her life, to go out with other people to see if Harry would perhaps take notice if he saw Ginny for what she was; not the stammering, red-faced, awed girl he'd known before. It had been good advice, but now she needs more.
Placing her quill on the table between the two, Hermione takes a minute to think about what Ginny has said, paying particular attention to the parts Ginny said that she is beginning to be annoyed by lots of little things Dean is doing and that she's finding more negative attributes about him than positive ones.
"Do you like him anymore?" Hermione simply asks. Sure, it’s a blunt question, but she decides that the answer Ginny gives her would help the younger Gryffindor decide whether she should break-up with Dean or try and salvage their relationship.
Ginny blinks at the question. It hasn't been one that she's considered along with the others that seem to be constantly clambering for attention in her brain. Love had been thought of, and the answer to that was a thoroughly drawn out justification that wrapped itself around the primary structure of no, she does not love Dean as a boyfriend anymore.
But like him? "I think that -- I." She stops, clasping her hands in front of her mouth and beginning a gentle tug on her thumb nail with her teeth. "I like Dean, he's... great. As a person. I just don't think I like being with him anymore,” she confesses, feeling the words squeeze through an unimaginably small hole in her throat. “It seems to take too much effort now and I'm always finding myself looking for an excuse that will get me out of having to meet with him, or -- or staying longer so that we can kiss or...." She gives Hermione a one-shouldered shrug, distractedly trying to remember the last time her and Dean had laughed together.
Hermione reaches across the table and pulls at Ginny's forearm, stopping her momentarily from biting her nails. "I -I think it would be best, for both you and Dean, to end things." She pauses for a second, eyeing the red-head in front of her for any sign that she is upset that Hermione is suggesting she break-up with her boyfriend. "I know that right now might not be the best time to do it seeing as he's in the Hospital Wing, but it needs to be done soon - for your sake."
Ginny removes her thumbnail and its attached digit from between her teeth, resting her chin on her hand instead. Hermione always seems to make sense of things calmly and, for a second, the tumble of Ginny's thoughts align and connect, glowing briefly as if to prove Hermione right. But then... "For my sake?" she repeats, not understanding.
Hermione gives a small smile, "Yes, for your sake, Ginny." She pauses. "Look at you, you're not happy - or at least you're not as cheerful as you usually are. You're so worried that you're going to hurt Dean in the process that you're not considering how it's affecting you."
Ginny hasn't thought about anything except her guilt for the last few days and now that Hermione says it, she’s surprised to realise that her friend's words are true. She is more tired than usual, she supposes. And she hasn't had an appetite at all in the last a couple of days, attending meals more out of habit than anything else.
"And Harry?" she asks after nodding in acknowledgement of Hermione’s explanation. She kicks herself mentally for feeling herself so greatly influenced by what Hermione is about to say, but judging by Harry's behaviour, he doesn't have a clue as to what to do either.
Hermione thinks a moment, not really sure how to explain Harry's recent behaviour. She originally assumed it had something to do with Voldemort and what happened at the Ministry last year, but she had realised a few days ago that that wasn’t the case. If it was, then he would have mentioned something to her and Ron.
"I'm not sure why Harry's acting weird, Ginny," Hermione sighs.
She knows Harry has been acting weird and she feels bad lying to her friend, but it wasn’t her place to tell. She and Harry had actually discussed his new found attraction to Ginny, along with a few other things, but she had promised to not say anything until he did.
"Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell you soon," Hermione says, giving Ginny a sympathetic look.
Ginny heaves a defeated sigh, slumping lower in her seat. Hermione's reassurances that she is doing the right thing to end her relationship with Dean have done something to clear up the spaghetti of whatwhywhowherehows in her head, and she knows that it’s something to be grateful for. But initiating it will be difficult.
Actions are harder than words, she thinks with an ironic twist of her mouth.
She leans forward, burying her face in the sleeve of her jumper. These are things she doesn't want to be thinking about. Especially so close to Christmas. But she can see the wisdom in it. And hopefully she’ll have everything cleared up by the time she leaves for home on Christmas Eve.
Giving a small 'wuff' as she exhales out of her nose, she finally straightens, giving Hermione a tired smile. "Thanks, Hermione." She hopes that her voice conveys how grateful she is for her friend’s advice. "You've been really helpful."
Hermione's chest tightens at seeing her friend look so defeated and she reaches across the table and places her hands on top of Ginny's.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asks, squeezing her friend’s hands. She feels horrible about not being able to tell Ginny the secret she knows, but again, it wasn’t her secret to tell.
Ginny smiles again, dropping her head slightly. "I'll be fine," she tells Hermione quietly. "It's been coming for a while, you know?" she continues, looking up again, her eyes sad and weary. "Thank you," she whispers suddenly, standing and reaching across the table to fold Hermione in a tight hug.
She checks her watch when she pulls away, deciding that tomorrow is the time for action; at the moment her bed is looking more than welcoming. "I'll see you at breakfast," she tells her friend, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn before making her way up the stairs to her bed and oblivion.