Pocket Parks

“Can I get you another?”

Hermione nodded at the bartender, pushing her empty glass towards him.

Barely a heartbeat later, a figure sat on the stool next to hers, sweeping her long red hair over her shoulder.

Hermione’s mouth immediately went dry and she wished she’d taken one last sip of the watery dregs of her drink before the bartender swept it away.

“Hey.”

Words caught in Hermione’s throat. It used to always be so easy. The one person she could talk to about anything. Of everything she’d lost in the past few years, that somehow hurt the most.

She was trying not to delve too deeply into why.

Ginny cleared her throat. “I broke up with Harry.”

Hermione’s head snapped up, looking directly at Ginny for the first time since she sat down.

Ginny didn’t look up from the cocktail napkins stacked in front of her. “Just…just so you know.” She picked up a napkin and began playing with the edges. “If you wanted to do something about it, he’d probably appreciate a friendly face now.”

She did want to do something about it, but not in the way Ginny had just implied.

“I don’t…” Hermione swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I love Harry.”

Ginny’s flinch was almost imperceivable, but Hermione knew her well enough to catch it.

“But I don’t…I want to love someone so much that no one else exists to me, not in that way,” Hermione said. “And I want them to feel the same way about me. And I don’t think Harry is capable of that kind of love. At least not with me. Clearly.”

It was Ginny’s turn to stare at her, but Hermione didn’t look away from the glass bottles stacked across the bar.

Their time alone in the tent had forced her and Harry both to face some hidden truths they had never dared to admit to one another before. Because their friendship mattered most. Because there was Ron—and Ginny—to think about.

But with death on their doorstep and no way to know how or if they would survive, they only had each other. It was supposed to be just physical. A stress outlet. A way to feel something good for once.

It was more than good.

It was everything.

Until Ron returned and they had to put it aside. Pretend it hadn’t happened. Focus on the mission and set their feelings aside until they were free.

When the dust cleared after the battle, she thought it would be their time.

Only, Ginny had thought the exact same thing.

And Harry chose her instead of Hermione.

It hurt so fucking much, but she wanted him to be happy. Above all else, he was her friend and she wanted him to be happy. Ginny was her friend and she wanted her to be happy.

She repeated it like a mantra, over and over again, burying herself in her books and her studies over girls nights and gossip and friendships. Ginny kept trying to bring her out, to remind her that there were more important things than her N.E.W.T.s, but it was just too hard. Especially with Ginny.

Hermione told herself it would pass with time, and it might have, if it hadn’t been Harry.

Because he was too damn empathetic for his own good, because he couldn’t stand anyone he loved hurting, because the guilt ate him alive that he couldn’t make them both happy.

And so began the endless cycle of Harry breaking up with Ginny to date Hermione in secret only to see Ginny miserable and end things with Hermione and rinse and repeat.

At least the times Hermione and Harry had been together had been kept out of the press. As far as almost everyone aside from Ron and Ginny were concerned, Harry and Ginny had just been very on-again, off-again.

“He didn’t mean to do it,” Hermione said. “I think that was the worst part of it for him.”

Ginny let out a huff. “All of this would have been so much easier if I could hate him.”

“Yeah.” But it was Harry. She needed some time, and space, but as long as she didn’t date him—and he didn’t date Ginny—again, she knew he would remain her friend for life.

“I’m sorry you were alone in it,” Ginny said softly.

“Ron’s been there.” Despite being stuck between his best friend and sister, all thanks to Harry.

“If you ever tell him I said this, I will bat bogey hex you every single day until you die,” Ginny said, “but some days I don’t know if any of us deserve Ron.”

She smiled, thinking of his heart to heart with her last week. “Yeah.”

“I missed you,” Ginny said suddenly. “That’s what sucked the most. Not just about being to talk to you about boy troubles but…we used to be able to talk about anything. And when that was gone, it hurt. More than I ever thought it would.”

Hermione could feel the heat of Ginny’s thigh, so close and yet so far. “I missed you too,” she admitted. In ways she’d never expected. Ways she wondered if Ginny would ever know.

“Do you…” Ginny cleared her throat. “Do you think Harry’s gay?”

She snorted. “No.” She had far too much evidence to the contrary. Suddenly remembering who she was talking to, sobered. “Shit, sorry. I, uhm—”

Ginny laughed. “No, I know,” she said. “I guess I meant bi.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought too hard about it before. Granted, being bi wasn’t something she’d let herself think too hard about in general before. It was…complicated.

“I just…I wonder if maybe sometimes—for people who are bi—if it can be difficult to tell the difference between someone you love platonically but also find attractive and true, deep, romantic love.”

Ginny’s words struck true. Not just about Harry, although it could certainly fit him as well.

Ginny drew in a deep breath. “Or vice versa.”

“Yes.” Hermione’s gaze flicked up to meet Ginny’s and something in her heart skipped. “I do imagine that would be very difficult.”

Something sparked in Ginny’s eyes and the corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. “Glad it’s not just me.”

She wondered if Ginny could hear her heart pounding from where she sat. “Gin…”

“Sorry about the wait.” The bartender slid her refill towards her. “Apricot gin fizz.”

Ginny glanced down at the pale orange drink and then up at her. “I thought you were a vodka drinker.”

A small smirk tugged her lips. “I think I might be into more things than I thought.”

Ginny’s eyes followed the glass as Hermione lifted it for a sip, watching as she licked the last drop off her lips.

“What can I get you, Red?” the bartender asked.

Ginny didn’t look away from Hermione. “Golden martini.”

Her smirked spread as the bartender walked off. “That could be about three people.”

“Well, it’s not my ex or my brother.”

That certainly narrowed it down. Hermione set her drink down and turned to fully face Ginny, everything Ron had told her about being brave and going for what she truly wanted running through her mind. “How badly do you actually want that drink?”

Her throat bobbed and her eyes dropped down to Hermione’s lips before she looked back up to meet her gaze with an intense look. “I want to take you dinner first,” she said. “Be photographed together, printed in every paper.”

Something twisted in her gut. “Gin, if this is just about getting back at Harry—”

“Godric, no,” she said. “I hated that you were always the one being hidden. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Warmth started to blossom in her chest. “I wanted to avoid the media circus—”

“Then we’ll find a happy medium,” Ginny said. “After everyone learns you’re mine.”

The warmth had spread into a full-fledged inferno. Leaning forward, she slid her hands into the thick red hair she’d dreamed about holding like this. If she was honest with herself, every time Harry and Ginny had gotten back together she’d been far more jealous that Harry got to touch Ginny than she was that Ginny was being touched by Harry.

But not anymore.

Angling Ginny’s head, she leaned in, brushing her lips against hers.

With a muffled groan, Ginny swiftly took over the kiss, deepening it and sliding her own hands into Hermione’s hair.

Being touched like this, held like this, by Ginny was everything. Fuck, why had they wasted so much time? She’d never been so wrong.

Things with Harry had been good.

But this…this was everything.

This was home.

Ginny broke the kiss, resting her forehead against Hermione’s as they both panted for breath.

“You know,” Hermione began, “we could go to my place now and still go out to dinner tomorrow.”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah, let’s.”

Grinning, Hermione set enough money on the counter to cover their drinks, grabbed Ginny’s hand, and led her out of the bar.