Trade Secrets

The Gryffindor party seemed to drag on forever. Ginny was permanently attached to Harry’s arm, and there was always someone wanting to talk to them or to congratulate them or to say something with multiple meanings. Ginny could care less. Halfway through the party she started looking for Hermione. The bushy-haired girl had yet to congratulate her for winning or for snogging Harry. She hadn’t talked to them at all. But mostly she hoped that Hermione, being as sensible as ever, would help her to escape the overstuffed common room. Ginny felt sick and aggravated. Neither being kissed by Harry nor winning at Quidditch (both done for the same reason) were worth this. Winning Quidditch, simply for the terrible nightmare of a party, and snogging Harry… Gryffindor conscience started to kick in and it seemed that this situation would have one too many consequences. And not only if Harry was lusting after her the way she thought he was.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of bushy brown hairy coming through the portrait hole, shoving something gold and shiny down her robes. It was a familiar action… Where had she seen it before? Hermione came up to them with a slightly flushed face and a weird light in her eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. Trust the Gryffindors to overlook the most important details.

“Congratulations,” Hermione said, not specifying whether it was to Ginny winning the match or Harry finally winning over Ginny.

“We won!” Harry laughed, hugging her and letting go off Ginny’s hand temporarily, much to her relief. “Where were you?” he asked. Hermione was pointedly looking everywhere but at Harry or Ron. Or at least Ginny thought she was.

“I was finishing something in the library,” Hermione said in reply. “I know we won. The match was amazing. Good job, Ron. Gin.” Ginny could not be bothered to remind Hermione that she, in fact, did not care at all about Quidditch. What Ginny needed to get out.

“Amazing, this lot is,” Harry said as a grin spread across his face.

“Oi!” Dean yelled from across the room, pointing as a crate of Butterbeer came in. “Ron! Harry! Come here!” Ginny shot a desperate look at Hermione, knowing that she would notice.

“Harry, I need to talk to Ginny alone,” Hermione said quickly. “Don’t worry, it’s just girl things. You go and see what Dean brought in.” The older witch linked arms with Ginny and walked her to the girls’ dormitory without looking back at Ron or Harry, who took her advice without a second thought.

“So… you and Harry, huh?” Hermione said as they sat down on her bed, watching for reactions. Ginny closed down her expressions, just in case. She laughed at her own train of thought, blaming it on spending too much time with Slytherins when no one was watching.

“Yeah… I guess,” Ginny said, and then she realized that Hermione expected her to continue. “I wanted to hug him when we won, and then he just kissed me. In front of everyone.”

“Is he a good kisser?” Hermione asked with a mischievous spark in her brown eyes. Ginny just gave her the look.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologized. “I just haven’t seen it, that’s all.” Ginny picked up on that.

“Speaking of which,” Ginny started, “where were you?” She had a feeling that it had something to do with the reappearance of the gold chain around her neck.

“I can’t tell you Gin.” Hermione said seriously, fiddling with the chain. All at once, Ginny realized where she had seen it before. It all came back to her, in her second year when they had all thought she was still depressed over the Chamber of Secrets; Hermione did not pay much attention to the golden-brown eyes that had followed her disappearances and appearances. Ginny had known that Hermione’d had a Time-Turner then just as clearly as she knew that she had one now.

“Or more accurately, when were you?” she asked. Hermione’s face paled.

“I… What…?” Hermione gaped at her, not speaking coherently.

“When The Boy Who Lived tried to eat my mouth off my face, you weren’t here. In fact, I bet you weren’t even in this time, Hermione,” Ginny stated.

“The Boy Who Lived?” Hermione seemed to recover fast enough to turn the attack against Ginny who let her defense slip momentarily. “Since when do you call him that? You sound like…” Hermione trailed off in her own realization.

“I do not,” Ginny said icily, enhancing every syllable. Hermione caught onto that, too. Stupid way to reply.

“What were you doing in past, Hermione?” She desperately tried to throw off the older girl, knowing too well that Hermione would see through her pathetic cover up.

“Alright. How about we just trade secrets?” the older witch suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait… What?” Gin looked Hermione in the eye, trying to figure out what her friend was really getting at.

“You tell me what exactly you were doing with people from different houses and I tell you what I’ve been doing with my accessories.”

Ginny looked at Hermione as if the other girl has gone mad. She was curious about Hermione’s time travels, but to give up her own secret about time spent with a blond wizard was not something she was ready to share. Not yet anyway.

“No.”

“I thought you would not,” Hermione said smugly as she watched Ginny shake her head in response to her question.

“We both have a right to keep our secrets,” Ginny said, silently vowing to discover Hermione’s.

“Of course,” Hermione said, “but let’s not mention either of them to Harry or Ron.”

“Most definitely,” Ginny smiled, not even wanting to imagine how the boys would react if her secret got spilled.

And by the looks of it, it would not be pretty if they discovered Hermione’s secret either. They spent rest of the evening chatting about Harry and Ron, both carefully avoiding each others’ secrets, until at last they drifted to sleep.