Falling for Weasleys (Germione/Herminny)

Chapter Three: Pathetic

Hermione had a problem.

A huge problem. A colossal problem. All the big words in the universe couldn't describe it. Nothing could describe it.

For the first time she could remember, the library had failed her. Completely.

She had headed down to get an early start on homework and some personal research she needed to take care of. It was a Thursday, shortly after dinner and an exhausting day full of classes and confusion. Lots of confusion. Especially when Hermione passed her best friend, Ginny, in the hall, and her best friend, Ginny, grinned and winked and Hermione's heart shot into her mouth.

Plus, Ginny didn't sit with her at lunch. She sat with a horde of girls and whispered and giggled. Hermione sat alone. She had a method for this. Just appear to be completely absorbed in a book and it wouldn't look so pitiful that she was completely alone.

When Hermione left the Great Hall early she passed Ginny and her friends and overheard a snatch of conversation from them. From Ginny. And she had puzzled over what she heard all the way to class. Then, halfway through scraping yew into her cauldron, it dawned on Hermione that Ginny had been talking about her sex life. Her sex life with Harry James Potter, auror in training, author, handsome, famous, the conqueror of death and Voldemort, and, according to the small amount of conversation she'd heard, not bad at all in bed.

And she was confused. Not done with school. Not done with anything. She was the one who loved books, but who ended up writing one first? Harry, of course. She was pathetic. She was annoying. She couldn't even keep up a relationship for a month before it went down in flames. She wanted to put her head on the table and cry, but she had a potion to stir, and Ginny was sitting across the room, so the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to her feelings.

Ginny's cheeks were pink from the heat of her potion. She'd pulled her hair up in a knot that looked unfairly amazing. Hermione admired how even the stray hairs that slipped from her bun fell around her face in an extremely attractive fashion.

Hermione realized she'd been staring. And also that a Slytherin boy who she'd never bothered to find out the name of was looking curiously at her. She turned away quickly and stirred the potion, which had been sitting for too long and was starting to slowly separate. The one thing that wasn't supposed to happen. Hermione stopped only to curse herself under her breath before she set to work putting the potion right.

Ginny sat with her at dinner, though. She chattered happily, while Hermione said very little and stiffened whenever Ginny touched her.

"You okay, Herm?" Ginny asked at last, sounding concerned. Herm? Oh god. Someone get an asthma pump.

Ginny pushed the hair off Hermione's forehead and placed her hand on it, feeling her temperature? This caused Hermione to blurt that she was exhausted and bolt from the Hall, much to Ginny's confusion.

The one time Ginny sits with you and you mess it up. Wow. Congratulations, you're horribly pathetic. Even worse than thought possible.

The entrance hall was deserted, so Hermione sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase and cried for a while. The sadness just kept going, feeding on itself, first about Ginny, then her parents, self pity, the fight with Ron, how she felt about Harry... Someone in a painting tried to console her, but the words of comfort didn't help.

The rest of the school started to head to their common rooms and Hermione snatched her bag and fled to the library in tears. She didn't expect kindness from Madam Pince, but hoped that she could find solace from the smell of paper and the feel of leather binding under her fingers. She needed to find something out.