Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (obviously)

–

"We shouldn't do this," She says against your lips. But her hands say otherwise as they claw at your shoulders, pulling you closer.

"Doesn't sound like you really mean it," You mumble and move your mouth the her neck.

"Mmm. Gin," She gasps when you bite her neck. "We really shouldn't,"

You move and bring your lips to hers again, "Shut up,"

"But-" Your tongue is in her mouth.

"Shut up,"

And she does. One of her hands is gripping your hair and you move the hand you have planted on her hip up and under her shirt, circling the skin there with your thumb. She hums in approval and you start to inch your hand slowly upwards. The tips of your fingers brush the edge of her bra and she arches off the wall at your touch. You slip a finger under it, then-

"Oi! Quit messing around and come downstairs! Mum says dinner is ready," You hear your brother's voice on the other side of your locked door.

You and Hermione jump apart. She looks towards the door and her expression becomes guilty. Trust Ron to ruin possibly the best make-out session ever.

Hermione looks at you, then to the floor. "Coming," She says quietly, then you hear Ron's loud footsteps descend the stairs. She unlocks and opens the door, pausing in the door frame to look at you, and you smile that charming Weasley smile you know she can't resist.

She doesn't smile back.

–

Dinner is an uncomfortable affair. You're sitting between Harry and Hermione and Harry's hand is on your knee. You're surprised no one has noticed yet, you thought the blatant look of discomfort and dislike on your face would have been enough to rise anyone's suspicions.

You can see Ron's hand curved around Hermione's waist and you note with satisfaction that her state of discomfort mimics yours. Harry decides to move his hand up to your thigh and you damn near stab it with your fork. You catch Hermione looking at Harry's hand out of the corner of your eye, but before you can turn fully to look at her, she's looking towards her plate again and the hand on your thigh has moved even higher. Then it squeezes and-

"Can I be excused!" You jump up out of your seat, trying to shake the feeling of Harry's hand.

"Is something the matter, dear?" Your mother asks.

"No, I just-" You clutch at your stomach for effect. "I don't feel very well. I'm-I think I'm going to go get some fresh air,"

Harry stands. "D'you want me to-"

"No!" You lower your voice. "I mean, no. I'll be fine,"

Harry looks confused, but sits back down anyways. You can feel everyone's eyes on you as you walk out the front door.

The cold night air hits you and you realize how hot it was in there. You turn and slump on the wall holding your head in your hands as your body cools down. The embarrassment and jealousy you felt at the dinner table got you quite heated.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself. In, out. In, out. In, ou-

"Hey,"

You jump and look up. Hermione is leaning out the open door, her face blank. She obviously knew you were faking; she would be concerned if she thought you were actually sick.

"Shouldn't you be in there cuddling Ronald or something," The words you were thinking leave your mouth before you can stop them, as does the annoyed tone they're coated in.

She frowns. "If you're going to yell at me about that again then I can just leave," She says, but makes to move to actually do it.

You sigh. "Sorry,"

It's silent for a moment before you speak up. "But it's hard,"

"What's hard?"

"Seeing you. With him," You sound like a little kid.

She sighs and steps out of the house, closing the door and sitting down next to you. You scoot closer to her so your sides are flush together and she puts her head on your shoulder.

"I know," she says. "But it's hard for me, too."

You scoff, "Doubtful,"

She looks at you. "This isn't a one-sided relationship, you know. The feelings are mutual."

"Sometimes I wonder," You mutter. Then you backtrack. "Wait. Relationship?"

Hermione freezes and turns her head to look at you slowly. "I...I didn't mean-"

You smirk. Her cheeks are pink and she flustered and she's stuttering out explanations and its jut so damn cute.

You look on, amused and barely listening, before she stops in the middle of her sentence and says, "...Well. Yes. Relationship." Her cheeks have turned bright red. "Is that alright,"

Not caring that your "boyfriends" are less than 30 feet away, you lean in and capture her lips. It doesn't take long for her fingers to wrap through your hair and before you know it she's up against the wall and its deja vu of what happened in your bedroom before dinner.

Except this time she actually makes an effort to push you away.

"Hermione?"

"I love him, Ginny," Those words leaving her mouth should mean the apocalypse for you. You should be worried, you should be sad. You should be because anyone else hearing those words leave her mouth would know it was over for the two of you.

But you're not anyone else. You've known her far too long for you to even think of worrying about what she just said.

"But?" You urge her to continue; you know she has something more to say.

"But," She starts. "I'm in love with you and...God, I can't handle feeling this bloody guilty all the time!"

You lean forward again, stealing another kiss. "There's only one way to do that."

"Break up with you?" You freeze. She sounds serious. You cease kissing and sit back on your knees looking at the ground. When you finally look up at her she's smiling. Then she grabs the front of your shirt and yanks your forward onto her lips. You still feel her smile. "I was only kidding," she whispers against your mouth.

You only utter an "Oh," before you go back to kissing her. You continue right where you left off in your bedroom; your hands are under her shirt and halfway under her bra. The other hand is already squeezing her other breast and before you know it she's groaning into your mouth and your hand is sandwiched between soft skin and her bra. Your mouth moves to her neck and she arches off the wall, pushing your bodies flush together. "Gin," She pleads.

The hand over her bra slowly moves down and stops when it brushes the top of her jeans. You reach over and unbutton them, your hand halfway inside before-

"Ginny, Hermione, is everything alright?"

At your mom's voice you jump to your feet and Hermione straightens her clothes out before she does the same.

"Coming, mum!" You yell back. "My family is a bunch of cockblocks, I swear."

She giggles as you take her hand and lead her back inside.

–

Was it good? I wasn't sure where to stop, so I decided here. It gives you space to infer your own ending.

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