Ginny flops onto Hermione’s bed with a huff.
“I’m assuming you already knew.” She says mildly. Hermione raises her eyebrows, setting down her quill. Ginny only says things like that when she’s gearing up to a long talk.
“Knew about…?”
“Malfoy.”
“Oh.” Hermione says, eyeing Ginny’s face to see where this is going. “Uh huh.”
“Can you believe Harry’s with him ?” Ginny finally bursts out. “I mean, not only did Malfoy not have Harry’s back, at all, ever, but he was directly opposing him the whole time? It was Malfoy that turned Harry in last year .”
“I know! ” Hermione cries, sitting forward with her elbows on her lap desk. “And we fought his dad !”
“ Do not get me started on Lucius Malfoy.” Ginny hisses, her eyes flashing.
“Oh, and he cheats in Quidditch.” Hermione says, hoping to avoid a tirade on a topic they’ve already discussed to death. “Draco does.”
“Constantly! I don’t think he’s ever played a clean game!”
“Not against Harry, at least.” Hermione agrees.
“Why does Harry even like him?”
“Well.” Hermione settles back, pulling her hair into a bun. “I think they have common ground. With the Voldemort thing.”
“I guess.” Ginny huffs, laying with her head dangling off the edge of the bed. “Malfoy’s not even funny.”
“Neither is Cho.”
“Or Cedric, rest his soul. Boy, Harry really knows how to pick them, huh. Suppose I should take it as a compliment that he never liked me that way.”
Hermione laughs. It’s a fair point. Harry’s taste is questionable.
“It’s always the pretty ones.” Ginny mutters.
“You’re pretty.” Hermione says.
“I’m not that sort of pretty, though. I don’t wear cute clothes or curl my hair.”
“Do you still like Harry?” Hermione asks hesitantly.
“Honestly?” Ginny blows a raspberry. “No. He’s not what I’m looking for.”
“Which is…?”
Tilting her head to look at Hermione, Ginny bites her lip.
“I kind of want to join a commune.”
“A what? Why?” Hermione protests. “You have so much potential! You could play Quidditch professionally, how many players can say they’re good at two positions?”
“A lot, you’d be surprised.” Ginny shrugs. “No, I meant… well, yes, a commune, or start one of my own. I don’t want a cute little house with my one life partner and the litter of children we’d bear.”
“What about a flat?”
“Come on, Hermione. I want to live with a lot of people and have things changing all the time, and be able to experience life the way my parents never did.”
Hermione sighs. Ginny’s always been a little off-beat.
“Maybe you’ll change your mind. Or do that for a bit, but settle down as you get older.”
“You sound like my mother.” Ginny says dryly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll change my mind, but maybe I won’t. I probably won’t. We’re not all like my parents, or you and Ron, with your heteronormative life goals.”
