Disclaimer: This all belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blame
her. 

For no good reason she could currently recall, Ginny
was attempting to coax Moaning Myrtle out of the
S-bend in the second stall without getting herself
covered in water. "Ah, come on now, Myrtle," she
wheedled. "I know you’re down there." She was answered
by a large Glug! accompanied by a spray of water.
Ginny jumped back quickly, barely managing to keep her
robes dry. "Fine, then, if that’s the way you want to
be. I’m just going to sit up here ;and wait." Ginny
made a face at the toilet bowl. She really didn’t know
why she bothered. Myrtle enjoyed being miserable. She
wasn’t even sure that Myrtle cared at all that she
took the time to visit her. ‘Just because I’d hate it
if everyone avoided me like they do Myrtle- but I’ll
bet she doesn’t even notice. Still, it isn’t like her
not to even talk to me. ’ Ginny had been coming to
visit Myrtle for several years now, and never before
had Myrtle avoided her, no matter how morose she may
have been. Ginny was often lonely herself- she
couldn’t imagine what it was like to be so lonely and
miserable that she’d voluntarily hang out in toilets.
Besides, she reckoned she owed the ghost- she might
very well be dead now in the Chamber of Secrets if it
hadn’t been for her. Ginny had almost shared the same
fate as Myrtle, who had been killed 50 years ago when
the young Voldemort- then Tom Riddle- had opened the
Chamber of Secrets. 

It was still very painful for Ginny to remember her
first year at Hogwarts. She had been so homesick, and
so terribly in love with Harry Potter. She felt as if
she understood him. More than that, she felt a tugging
whenever she was near him- something indefinable but
undeniable. Back then, she had been sure that he only
needed a bit of nudging to see it, too. Now, she had
accepted that it might never happen, but she still
felt the connection. It was all very confusing, but of
one thing she was certain: his fame just made
everything more complicated. She knew what it was like
to be surrounded by people and feel completely alone.
Of course, "people" only applied to her brothers in
the broadest general sense. They were bipedal, she’d
give them that, but sorely confused by deeper
emotions. A heart to heart conversation with Fred
would lead to singed eyebrows at best, and Ginny
longed for someone with whom she could be honest. She
was so tired of secrets. She wanted to tell him that
he didn’t have to worry about all that stupid fame
stuff with her, that she didn’t want him to be a hero.
She’d love him if he were the groundskeeper. She
sighed. There wasn’t much chance of them having that
conversation, even if she didn’t act like a complete
ninny every time she saw him anymore. She blushed even
thinking about it. She doubted she could have
embarrassed herself more if she had tried- "His eyes
are as green as a fresh pickled toad?" Ginny writhed
at the remembrance. 

But that memory paled in comparison to the horror of
Tom Riddle’s diary. 

She could fully understand the Imperius curse,
now... only perhaps the Imperius curse would be more
pleasant than what she had experienced. She had heard
that it made you feel light and floaty. She had never
felt further from light and floaty in her life than
when she had been under the control of Riddle’s diary.
Every waking moment had been excruciating- she had so
wanted to confess, to Ron or George or Fred- or even
Percy. She had desperately wanted to lay it in the
hands of someone older, someone trusted. Even now,
though, she couldn’t imagine how that would have gone
over. "Er.. Percy? I think I may be evil. I don’t mean
to be, you see, but I can’t stop myself, and it’s
really lucky that you’re not muggle born or I might be
trying to attack you right now." She snickered at the
mental picture of Percy’s face at such a moment. She
sobered quickly as it occurred to her that was the
first bit of amusement she had ever found in that
whole fiasco. Immediately, she felt slightly ashamed.
After all, people had almost DIED because of her. She
felt a familiar lump begin to form in her throat at
the thought. 

"No!" The exclamation burst out of her throat before
she could stop it. Was she trying to torture herself?
She looked around the dank and depressing bathroom.
The floor was covered with a good half inch of water,
and the single light bulb above the sinks was
flickering in a maddening rhythm. What was she doing
in here? She was acting if this place held not only
the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but her own
absolution. Suddenly, it was all quite clear- she WAS
trying to punish herself, lurking about in this nasty
old place, pleading with a singularly unpleasant ghost
to LET her be kind to her. After all, Moaning Myrtle
had never solicited her kindness, or seemed
particularly grateful for it. ‘That’s it,’ thought
Ginny, and shook her head with an air of finality.
‘I’m going to give her one more chance, and then I’m
out of here for good.’

She cleared her throat loudly. There was no response
from the toilet. "Myrtle, I’m going to count to five,
and if you don’t come out here to talk to me, I’m
leaving, and I’m not coming back.
One... two... three... four... FIVE. All right, then, Myrtle, I’m
off." Just as she was turning to leave, she heard a
small pop! from the direction of the toilet and turned
back to see Myrtle’s bleary, sullen face sticking up
from the bowl of the toilet. 

"Fat lot you care," said Myrtle nastily. "Coming
‘round here all the time pretending to be poor stupid
Myrtle’s friend. Well, I know what you’ve been up to,
I do, and don’t think I’m going to let you use me like
that again. I know what you want out of me- and I’m
not-" Just then a large thud resounded through the
hollow room. Ginny jumped, and Myrtle started, which
sloshed quite a bit of water on Ginny’s shoes. The
door had obviously been slammed with some force, and
the sound of very angry footsteps sloshing around on
the tile indicated someone was pacing back in forth in
front of the sinks. Waving one hand at Myrtle to shut
her up, Ginny cautiously peered around the edge of the
stall door. There, pacing in front of the broken
sinks, one hand clutching her wand, the other in a
fist, was Hermione. 

Her eyes were narrowed in anger, and her cheeks were
flaming patches of red. She ripped her book bag off
her shoulder and threw it across the room. She was
muttering under her breath. "... stupid, great... git... if he
doesn’t want... well then, I don’t want, and he can
just..." Her voice trailed off, and she took a deep,
ragged breath. ‘Oh dear,’ thought Ginny. ‘She and Ron
must be fighting again.’ They had been fighting all
day, in fact, and obviously Hermione had reached the
end of her tether. Her eyes looked very bright, and
for a moment, Ginny thought she was going to burst
into tears. Ginny instinctively moved toward her, and
then stopped, as the door swung open again, and Ron
burst into the room.

Ron looked as bad off as Hermione, and additionally,
he was panting with exertion. Ginny quickly stuck her
head back into the stall- she had no desire to get
involved. She could hear their labored breathing, and
nothing else. Obviously, they were involved in one of
their famous staring contests. She resigned herself to
a prolonged stay in a damp and smelly toilet stall.
Ron and Hermione were best friends, but were more
often than not at odds with one another. This
particular fight had been brewing since this morning
when Hermione had received a package from Viktor Krum
at breakfast. While any communication from Krum seemed
to raise Ron’s blood pressure, Hermione had refused to
let anyone see the contents, and would answer no
questions about it. Ron had been sniping at her ever
since. The last Ginny had seen them, Hermione was
steadfastly ignoring him, but she had obviously broken
in the meantime. Ginny couldn’t blame her- Ron’s
persistence would wear anybody down. But what made
this whole situation strange was that, in the last few
weeks, it seemed as though they had finally made some
headway into a Relationship- Ginny capitalized this
concept in her mind. She had known for some time how
Hermione felt about her brother- and it was obvious to
the most dull-witted that Ron harbored more than
friendship for Hermione. Ginny sighed and slumped
against the stall. Unfortunately, Ron could be pretty
dull-witted when it came to girls. Were they never
going to speak? Maybe they could stand there all day
and just glare at each other, but Ginny didn’t think
she could take much more of this. She peered around
the edge of the stall door. They were standing about a
foot from each other, and Ron took another step
towards her, closing the gap. 

"Well?" He burst forth, his voice full of righteous
indignation. "Well??" The single syllable reverberated
throughout the tiled room, and Ginny flinched.
Hermione, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle. 

"Well, what?" she said quietly, but Ginny felt her
tone was much more dangerous than Ron’s. 

Ginny and Myrtle exchanged a glance. They both knew
that this attitude of quiet calm could only mean
trouble. Ron paused. Both Ginny and Myrtle leaned
forward, peering through the crack in the bathroom
door. Hermione’s arms were folded over her chest, and
her face was deadpan. 

This is bad, Ginny thought. What could have happened
to make her this mad? It must be that package from
Viktor. Maybe Ron had pushed too hard, trying to find
out what was inside. He has a tendency to do that, she
thought ruefully. Stupid boys! If he was smart, right
now he’d keep his fat mouth shut.

Ron took a deep breath and words tumbled out of his
mouth. "Well, what was that? All that, just now in the
common room! You just turned and ran and didn’t I look
like a prat and Lavender gave me some stupid look and
Harry was smirking and, honestly, I don’t understand
girls. You say one thing and then you do another thing
and... and don’t you pretend that you don’t know what
I’m talking about, because I thought, well, you know,
since we, YOU KNOW, ..." 

Ginny’s mouth dropped open in surprise. What did that
mean? She glanced at Myrtle who was clearly thinking
the same thing, and getting ready to say so. "Shhh!",
she mouthed at her. The last thing Ginny wanted was
for Ron to find them lurking in this stall,
eavesdropping. A sudden movement brought her eyes back
to the crack in the stall door. Hermione had taken a
step toward Ron. It was hard to tell from her face
what she was thinking, which Ginny took as a very bad
sign. Apparently so did Ron, and he had the decency to
look wary. "What did you think, Ron?" She uttered the
words so quietly and calmly that Ginny and Myrtle had
to strain to hear. " You think I’m a "scarlet woman"
now? Because of a stupid package from Viktor? Well,
there isn’t anything going on between Viktor and I, at
least as far as I’m concerned. Not that it’s any of
your business. Besides, I don’t understand why you
care. There isn’t anything going on between us either,
is there." Her voice wavered, and she turned away from
him, biting her lip and trying not to cry. Ron’s mouth
opened and closed wordlessly, searching for words to
respond. 

Finally he sputtered, " What does that mean, as far as
you’re concerned? Does that great stupid prat want... You
want to know what I think? I think that I’m sick to
death of letters and packages from your boyfriend,
Viktor Buggering Krum." He stopped suddenly, knowing
as soon as the words left his lips that he had said
the wrong thing, but it was too late. Hermione whirled
around and advanced on him. He backed up into the
wall, and she poked a finger into his chest. "You can
just shut up right now, Ronald Weasley. You can’t call
Viktor names just because YOU can’t figure out how you
feel. He’s a nice boy and he likes me a lot- loves me
even- and I won’t let you talk badly about him just
because you’re jealous."

This appeared to be the last straw for Ron. It was the
first time in her life Ginny had ever seen him lose
color when he was angry, but she watched the mottled
scarlet slowly drain away, leaving him slightly gray.
"Jealous?" He hissed. "How do you think Vicky would
feel if he knew you kissed me?" Hermione opened her
mouth several times, but it was her turn not to be
able to produce sound. Ginny wasn’t sure she was
capable of speech herself. Well! This was a stunning
development. Something floating in her peripheral
vision distracted her from this increasingly
interesting scene and Ginny turned to find Myrtle’s
pale and perpetually scabby knees at eye level. She
was floating slightly above the stall in order to get
a better view. While Ginny was certain that an entire
bag of dungbombs could not distract either Ron or
Hermione, she was taking no chances. She motioned
wildly at Myrtle to come down, but Myrtle rather
ostentatiously ignored her.

In the meantime, Hermione seemed to have found her
voice again. "I... kissed... YOU?" she stuttered, spitting
out each word like it pained her. "Are you sure about
that, Ron? Are you absolutely sure that’s what
happened?" Her voice had turned smooth and venomous.
"Because I seem to recall that it was YOU who grabbed
ME behind the Three Broomsticks, and not the other way
around." 

The color was returning to Ron’s face, and it seemed
to have doubled while it was gone. He looked as if he
wanted to throw something, preferably Hermione, but
with a superhuman effort, he kept his voice low. "So
what YOU’RE saying is that you had nothing to do with
that kiss? You’re saying that you slapped my face and
screamed-" here his voice rose in falsetto- "Ron, you
beast! My heart is given to Vicky!" His voice dropped
low again, and he took a step forward, closing the
little space between them. "Is that what you’re
saying? Because I’m not sure I remember that bit."
Hermione took an unsteady step backwards, and her
cheeks flamed more brightly. Once more, silence
descended on the bathroom, broken only by the steady
drip of water. 

Myrtle was slowly floating back down into the stall
again, to Ginny’s vast relief. She had been attempting
to coax her down, but it was a half hearted effort.
This was all a bit much to process at once, and she
returned her full attention to Ron and Hermione. Ron
didn’t seem to be able to look away from Hermione, who
was avoiding his eyes completely. An unidentifiable
emotion rippled through his entire body, and he
reached out a hand toward her. His hand had barely
touched hers when Hermione jumped back as if she had
been slapped. "Why did you do it?" Hermione
practically wailed. "You obviously don’t want to go
out with me- you’ve made that clear enough. You can’t
just go around kissing me just because I’m there and
I’m close enough to a girl if you squint a little--" 

"What are you talking about?" Ron sounded honestly
puzzled. "I don’t... I didn’t..." He was struggling for
words, but something seemed to occur to him, and he
abandoned that train of thought completely. "Oh,
yeah?" He shouted back, as if he’d found his stride
once again. "It seems to me that you’re just looking
for an excuse to drop ME. After all, why would you
want to be seen with a nothing like me when you could
have the famous Viktor Krum? You always talk about how
shallow us blokes are, but I guess your true colors
are showing now!" 

"Don’t try to turn this around on me!" Hermione
screamed. She appeared to have completely lost it. She
had only heard stories of the infamous Draco Malfoy
incident from third year, but Ginny had always had
trouble picturing Hermione resorting to physical
violence. Now she was witnessing it firsthand, as
Hermione shoved Ron backward with such force that he
stumbled and nearly fell on the slippery tile. 

"Oooh! Fight!" Myrtle whispered, and darted underneath
Ginny’s arm to get a better view. 

"I heard you, Ron! I HEARD you talking to Dean and
Seamus and... Harry." Hermione’s voice broke. "I heard
everything you said about me." 

Ron’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "I don’t
know what you’re talking about", he faltered. She
rounded on him. "Don’t you? Don’t try to pretend,
because I heard you! I was coming down the stairs and
I heard you... tell them you didn’t... wouldn’t
ever... couldn’t imagine..." She was taking huge gulping
breaths in between words, and had wailed the last bit.
Ginny wasn’t able to make out quite what it was that
Ron had said, but apparently this disjointed sentence
was enough for him. He slapped his hand over his eyes
and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the
faded yellow tile, muttering to himself. Even Ginny,
who had spent a lifetime interpreting the behavior of
her brothers couldn’t figure this out. Obviously,
neither could Hermione, who said rather confusedly,
"Ron?"

What surprised them all was that he appeared to be
laughing. He took his hand away from his eyes and
rested his arm on one raised knee. "Oh Hermione, is
that was this argument is about? Because you know, you
weren’t supposed to hear that. At the time, I wondered
if it wasn’t a bit harsh, but it got the job done. It
doesn’t matter, because you know it’s not true.
Honestly, I thought we were talking about something
real. " He shrugged as he stood up, looking
disgustedly at the puddle he had sat in. "You told me
to be discreet." 

Ginny stepped back so suddenly that she stepped into
Myrtle, who gave her a very disgruntled look. Her mind
was spinning. She knew exactly what Ron had done. He
had kissed Hermione, who had told him to be discreet,
and so he told the next person who asked him about it,
i.e. Dean, Seamus and Harry, that "of course nothing
was going on! Couldn’t even imagine it! Of all the
girls he’d pick, etc." She shook her head in disgust.
He’d really done it now and he was lucky that Hermione
hadn’t cursed him yet. Ginny would have. The sudden
silence outside the stall made her wonder if Hermione
hadn’t just done exactly that. She peered around the
stall door and saw Hermione was shaking her head. She
suddenly looked so pale and sad that Ginny almost left
her hiding place to go to her. Hermione took a deep
breath and looked terrified at what she was about to
say. "Ron, we’ve known each other for a long time. I
know you’re not stupid. So when you say things like
that I can only assume you’re being stupid on purpose.
And... I just don’t want to do it anymore. I... can’t." Hot
tears splashed down her cheeks and she wiped at them
furiously with the back of her hand. "So, let’s just
forget about it, okay? All of it. We’ll just... go back
to the way we were before and we’ll pretend none of
this ever happened."

She nodded once and bent down to collect the things
that had fallen from her bag when she dropped it, all
the while studiously not looking at Ron. He hadn’t
moved since her last declaration. It wasn’t until she
brushed past him, trying to get out the door that he
finally reacted. He spun quickly, grabbing her arm and
pulled her roughly back to him. "So, that’s it? Clasp
hands, thanks for being my best friend and sharing
every important event in my life, it was nice knowing
you?" He shook his head as she tried to push away from
him. "You don’t want this and I am not going to force
you..." she whimpered. 

Ron’s hands closed on her upper arms and he shook her.
"Don’t try to tell me what I want," he said through
clenched teeth. "I know what I want, I’m just not any
good at going about getting it. You told me to be
discreet, so I tried to pretend that nothing happened.
I went overboard and said a bunch of stupid things
because, oh hell, I don’t know why. What I said didn’t
even make any sense, and I promise you that nobody
believed me." His voice became desperate. "I don’t
know what to do, Hermione! I’m not doing it right, I
know, but it’s because... I don’t know how to act or, or
what to say because... because... I’ve never wanted anything
like I want this." He let go of her and stepped back.
He crossed his arms over his chest miserably, suddenly
looking very young and frightened. "And what if you
decide you’d rather have somebody else? I’m not a
famous Seeker, or even The Boy Who Lived. I’m just an
ordinary bloke, regular old Ron Weasley." He
straightened up and clenched his fists at his sides,
looking suddenly fierce. "But I’d never let anybody
hurt you and you can always trust me and well, that’s
got to count for something." Then suddenly, Ron
grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her to him. He
leaned down, kissed her full on the lips, and let her
go. "Do you still want to forget it?" Ron tensed as
Hermione stared back at him. For a moment, neither of
them moved. Then Hermione threw her arms around him
and burst into tears. 

"Why are you crying?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, please don’t cry,"
Ron said hurriedly. 

"Oh Ron, shut up!" she said, laughing. And she kissed
him back, smiling. 

"Right then." He broke away from her, grabbed her hand
and started to lead her out the door. "What are you
doing? Where are we...?", but he interrupted her. "I’m
taking you up to the common room where I will then
kiss you properly in front of any lucky folks who
happen through. That way we can clear up this nonsense
and move onto more important things." The bathroom
door slammed shut behind them, but Ginny could still
hear them laughing together. 

"Well," said Myrtle’s voice behind her. "That was
disgusting." 

Author’s Notes: We wish to reassure everyone that
there was NO kissing in the common room. Hermione does
not permit public displays of affection, and Ron is
secretly relieved. We are planning a sequel to this,
but we’re pretty lazy, so you might want to badger us
if you’d like to see it while you can still read
without bifocals. Honeychurch would like to thank
Arabella for nudging her into fan fiction writing in
the first place, and Lallybroch would like to assure
Erik no house elves were harmed during the creation of
this fic. Thank you and good night.