While she enjoyed being with her friends at the Weasley's, Hermione did miss some of the freedoms allowed by being home alone. In all honesty, it was only one in particular, with quiet time for school work only just being edged out. Masturbation. Hermione simply loved it. There was something about letting her hands and mind roam, experimenting as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm, seeing just how long she could keep herself at the edge.
There had been a few times when her unfiltered thoughts had strayed to Harry or Ron, including one particularly memorable Thursday morning. Ron was taking her over a teacher's desk in long, powerful strokes when Harry walked in, Marauder's Map in hand. Moments later, his balls were slapping against her chin as he held her in place by her hair.
But as of late, her fantasies had begun to feature Ginny more prominently. Maybe it was her inability to find her male peers mature enough. Maybe it was her natural curiosity. Maybe it was just because Ginny was hot as fuck. But it was probably just because her hair smelt of cinnamon. Whatever the reason, she couldn't masturbate without thinking of her.
Things only got more complicated when she was invited to the stay with the Weasleys. It all started when she was expected to sleep in Ginny's room. The first night would've been manageably awkward if not for one thing. The forbidden fruit that was listening to Ginerva fingering herself. The muffled sounds of her arousal left her nipples painfully sensitive, scraping against the sheets, leaving her drenched and aching until she could stand it no longer.
With agonizingly slow movements, Hermione lifted her shapely ass from the floor in order to remove the obstruction of her panties. The floor creaked like a gunshot across the small room. Startled, Hermione dropped, desperately trying to control her breathing as she heard Ginny stop entirely.
"Hermione?" There was the barest hint of fear in the timbre of Ginny's loud whisper. She doesn't know. If I can just play this right…
"Hunh?" Hermione fake yawned. "Whuzzit?"
"Nothing. I thought I heard something. It's prolly just the trees." With that, both girls sat in a paranoid silence until sleep claimed them.
-Midmorning of the next day-
Hermione watched through the window of Ginny's room as she and the boys went to play Quidditch. Satisfied that they'd be gone for at least an hour, she inhaled deeply to relax herself. Ginny's scent hung heavy in the air, enticing her to pretend, at least for a little while, that her affections might be returned. Bundled in Ginny's sun-warmed bedcovers, her fingers traced languidly along her sex. Rolling a nipple in one hand, she worked two fingers into her slit, eyes flicking to the door as the slick heat of her passion coated her thighs.
She pumped furiously, imagining Ginny's hair fanned across her thighs as she licked, teasing her clit with a skilled tongue. She squeezed her breast as she arched, moaning, into her own cramping fingers. Her fingers spasmed vipolently as her wrist gave out. Whining in anger, she ground her palm against her clit in desperation, but climax continued to evade her.
Snatching a dirty pair of panties from the floor, she drank in the scent of Ginny's sweat and sex. Her eyes closed as she envisioned Ginny above her, smothering, choking her with cum-soaked curls. Face flushed with arousal, she plunged three fingers into her sopping cunt, curling them in slow, deliberate motions. Her climax burned long and slow, cresting over and over until she could fit her whole hand inside the heat of her loins.
"Having fun?"