Forbidden and Wrong
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Harry Potter › FemSlash - Female/Female › Hermione/Ginny
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
14,027
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1
Recommended:
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Category:
Harry Potter › FemSlash - Female/Female › Hermione/Ginny
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
14,027
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Nine
In the car on my way to the Burrow, I twisted my fingers anxiously and reread Ginny’s note over and over. What could have possibly happened? A Quidditch accident? That didn’t seem likely. Ginny was always so careful. For an instant, the idea that we could have been found out crossed my mind, but I brushed it away. If the Weasleys had found out, and they were upset, why would they have asked me to come to the Burrow? They would want me as far from Ginny as they could manage. Nervous, I leaned forward in my seat to ask my father how long it would take to arrive.
When we finally pulled up, no one came out to greet me. No one was waiting inside, watching through the windows, ore flying in the back yard. What was going on?
“Have a good time, dear. I’d go in, but I fear that Mr. Weasley would talk off my ear again if he saw the car.” I hoped my fearful expression looked convincingly enough like eagerness to see the Weasleys.
“I’ll see you at Christmas,” I squeaked, dragging my trunk behind me. The Burrow, which usually looked so inviting, was looming above me, looking frightening and imposing in its stillness. Slowly, I walked up to the door as I heard my parents drive away. I raised my hand to knock at the door, but it opened from the inside.
“Hermione,” said a stony voice, cold as ice. Ron’s voice, yet not.
“Ron, what’s happened? Why is it so quiet?”
“Come inside,” he said, his voice still not his own. “Put your trunk down here.” He sat and gestured for me to do the same. I sank into the chair he offered, growing increasingly more apprehensive as this man who was not my friend acted so strangely.
“Hermione, Ginny didn’t write you that last letter.”
“I know; I didn’t recognize the handwriting.”
“It was mine,” he said as if that explained everything.
“Oh,” I said, still confused and frightened. “What’s happened, Ron?”
“I wrote that note because I knew it would bring you here today. My parents and Ginny are at the twins’ shop. They think I’ve got the flu, and when they come home, they’ll think you just showed up out of nowhere.”
“But what’s going on? Why did you want me to get here so fast?”
“I know. I know about you and my sister.” He hissed the last word, as if it were bitter and venomous.
“Ron, I…”
“Shut up!” he screamed, shaking. He paused for a second, composing himself. He spoke again in a deadly whisper. “No one else knows. I haven’t told. Do you know why, Hermione?” he asked slowly, his gaze intensifying. I couldn’t remember ever having been afraid of Ron before. I shook my head slowly.
“I didn’t tell because it’s over. There’s nothing between you anymore. I don’t want to see you touch her ever again. I don’t want to see you look at her in the wrong way ever again, do you understand me?” He was shaking again, more violently than before. “I won’t let you do this to her.” His hand twitched, and I realized he was holding his wand. His grip was so tight that his knuckles were drained of blood. “Do you understand me, Hermione?” he asked, his tone making it clear that there was only one correct answer.
“Yes, Ron,” I said in a quivering voice.
“Great. I’ll show you to your room then,” he said. The venom in his voice evaporated, and the cheery tone left behind was even more frightening.
“Hermione, you’ve arrived!” Mrs. Weasley’s high, clear voice exclaimed as she swept in through the fireplace. “Arthur and Ginny will be here in a few moments dear, they had to turn back for something.” I wanted to speak, but since my encounter with Ron, I lacked the capacity. I simply smiled. I heard Ron’s footsteps approaching on the stairs behind me.
“Oh, Ronald, how are you feeling?”
“Fine, Mum.”
“I still think that you’re just sore about visiting the twins because of what happened last time.” Ron’s face turned pink. I couldn’t believe the change in him. I was almost beginning to wonder if I’d imagined his rage. Almost.
“Hermione, how long have you been here, dear? We only left an hour ago, you must have just missed us.” Damn my father for dawdling at the house! If I’d arrived only a bit sooner, they would have been here and I wouldn’t be as frightened as I am now. Ron would have never had a chance to single me out and threaten me! Ginny stepped in from the fire at that moment, and watching her eyes light up upon seeing me almost made me forget that Ron seemed to have lost his mind.
“Hermione! When did you get here? Oh, I’ve missed you!” She ran towards me, hugging me fiercely. Over her shoulder, I caught Ron’s fiery glare, and I loosened my grip on her. I pushed her away gently.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I said, trying my best to give her a look that said, “Not now, I’ll explain when I can.” She looked hurt and confused, but she nodded slightly, sensing that something was amiss. I did my best to clear my expression and turned to Mrs. Weasley, wearing as big a smile as I could muster. “Can I help you with dinner, Mrs. Weasley? I’m famished.”
When we finally pulled up, no one came out to greet me. No one was waiting inside, watching through the windows, ore flying in the back yard. What was going on?
“Have a good time, dear. I’d go in, but I fear that Mr. Weasley would talk off my ear again if he saw the car.” I hoped my fearful expression looked convincingly enough like eagerness to see the Weasleys.
“I’ll see you at Christmas,” I squeaked, dragging my trunk behind me. The Burrow, which usually looked so inviting, was looming above me, looking frightening and imposing in its stillness. Slowly, I walked up to the door as I heard my parents drive away. I raised my hand to knock at the door, but it opened from the inside.
“Hermione,” said a stony voice, cold as ice. Ron’s voice, yet not.
“Ron, what’s happened? Why is it so quiet?”
“Come inside,” he said, his voice still not his own. “Put your trunk down here.” He sat and gestured for me to do the same. I sank into the chair he offered, growing increasingly more apprehensive as this man who was not my friend acted so strangely.
“Hermione, Ginny didn’t write you that last letter.”
“I know; I didn’t recognize the handwriting.”
“It was mine,” he said as if that explained everything.
“Oh,” I said, still confused and frightened. “What’s happened, Ron?”
“I wrote that note because I knew it would bring you here today. My parents and Ginny are at the twins’ shop. They think I’ve got the flu, and when they come home, they’ll think you just showed up out of nowhere.”
“But what’s going on? Why did you want me to get here so fast?”
“I know. I know about you and my sister.” He hissed the last word, as if it were bitter and venomous.
“Ron, I…”
“Shut up!” he screamed, shaking. He paused for a second, composing himself. He spoke again in a deadly whisper. “No one else knows. I haven’t told. Do you know why, Hermione?” he asked slowly, his gaze intensifying. I couldn’t remember ever having been afraid of Ron before. I shook my head slowly.
“I didn’t tell because it’s over. There’s nothing between you anymore. I don’t want to see you touch her ever again. I don’t want to see you look at her in the wrong way ever again, do you understand me?” He was shaking again, more violently than before. “I won’t let you do this to her.” His hand twitched, and I realized he was holding his wand. His grip was so tight that his knuckles were drained of blood. “Do you understand me, Hermione?” he asked, his tone making it clear that there was only one correct answer.
“Yes, Ron,” I said in a quivering voice.
“Great. I’ll show you to your room then,” he said. The venom in his voice evaporated, and the cheery tone left behind was even more frightening.
“Hermione, you’ve arrived!” Mrs. Weasley’s high, clear voice exclaimed as she swept in through the fireplace. “Arthur and Ginny will be here in a few moments dear, they had to turn back for something.” I wanted to speak, but since my encounter with Ron, I lacked the capacity. I simply smiled. I heard Ron’s footsteps approaching on the stairs behind me.
“Oh, Ronald, how are you feeling?”
“Fine, Mum.”
“I still think that you’re just sore about visiting the twins because of what happened last time.” Ron’s face turned pink. I couldn’t believe the change in him. I was almost beginning to wonder if I’d imagined his rage. Almost.
“Hermione, how long have you been here, dear? We only left an hour ago, you must have just missed us.” Damn my father for dawdling at the house! If I’d arrived only a bit sooner, they would have been here and I wouldn’t be as frightened as I am now. Ron would have never had a chance to single me out and threaten me! Ginny stepped in from the fire at that moment, and watching her eyes light up upon seeing me almost made me forget that Ron seemed to have lost his mind.
“Hermione! When did you get here? Oh, I’ve missed you!” She ran towards me, hugging me fiercely. Over her shoulder, I caught Ron’s fiery glare, and I loosened my grip on her. I pushed her away gently.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I said, trying my best to give her a look that said, “Not now, I’ll explain when I can.” She looked hurt and confused, but she nodded slightly, sensing that something was amiss. I did my best to clear my expression and turned to Mrs. Weasley, wearing as big a smile as I could muster. “Can I help you with dinner, Mrs. Weasley? I’m famished.”