Idle Hands
Hermione's quill scratched loudly against the parchment, the black ink moving across the creamy paper in neat copperplate writing. She paused and studied the parchment in contemplative silence. Tapping the large white feather at the end of the quill against her cheek Hermione gazed out across the still surface of the Black Lake, her mind wandering, searching out the right words to correspond with all these new feelings she was experiencing lately.
A little smile twitched at the corners of Hermione's lips, she was happy, really happy for the first time in a long time. When Ron Weasley had started dating Lavender Brown she had wanted to curl into a ball and die it had hurt so badly; but now she could look at Ron with Lavender and it didn't hurt, she could deal with it. And it was all because of her.
She had opened Hermione's eyes to something different, something new, something exciting and Hermione Granger, the good girl, the straight O student revelled in it and it brought out the long buried poet in her; she had no-one else to confide in and found writing helped her to sort out her feelings. She could have kept a journal but Hermione worried someone might get a hold of it and read it. Poems were less interesting to other and didn't need to be hidden away.
Hermione had never thought of entering into a relationship or a fling or, whatever she was meant to call this thing between them, with another girl. Hermione hadn't ever thought she had those kind of feelings for women after all, she had loved Ron for the longest time; but there was something about Pansy Parkinson that called to her, appealed to her.
Pansy Parkinson was not beautiful, not by a long shot, she had a funny little face rather like a pug, tip tilted hazel eyes and small pouting mouth. She wore her hair longer these days it fell around her shoulders straight as a poker and black as midnight, even the very ends wouldn't hold a curl when Hermione wrapped it around her finger.
It did strike Hermione as strange that they should be drawn to each other the way they were, Pansy had told her that she had never been involved with a girl before either, but it wasn't awkward when they were together, and it was infinitely different than being with a boy. Well, Victor Krum, Hermione didn't have any other basis for comparison.
She wasn't in love with Pansy, Hermione could say that with certainty, but she did enjoy her company. Pansy was smarter than Hermione had ever given her credit for, she could hold a conversation on a variety of subject as could Hermione herself, and Pansy had a sharp wit that made Hermione laugh. In fact, it was that wit which had first made Hermione sit up and take notice of Pansy as Pansy Parkinson and not another annoying, sneaking Slytherin.
They had come across each other in the library one night a few weeks back, Hermione had hidden herself way in a dark corner, surrounded herself with books to block out the image of Ron practically devouring Lavender's face. Pansy had arrived looking to claim the same dark corner for herself to try and banish the pain of Draco Malfoy's rejection.
Hermione may have been a Gryffindor and a "goody –too-shoes" as Pansy had frequently referred to her in the past, and Pansy may have been a Slytheirn "with the I.Q. of a pumpkin pasty" as Hermione had been known to comment, but they were still girls, both rejected, united by the bonds of sister hood to hate the boys who had hurt them, and for the first time in six years they had engaged in an actual conversation.
"Hi."
Hermione was startled out of her reminiscing at the sound of Pansy's voice. "Oh, hi. I didn't hear you come up."
Pansy shrugged one slender shoulder and took a seat on the ground next to Hermione. "I wasn't very quiet, you must have been elsewhere."
"Yeah, I guess I was."
"What are you writing?"
"Just a poem," Hermione allowed Pansy to take the parchment from her and she watched the other girl as she read through the poem.
"Not bad. Is it about anyone I know?" Pansy's eyes twinkled.
"Maybe," Hermione said primly, taking the parchment back and rolling it up before stowing it away in her bag. "Did you finish your book?"
"Yep," Pansy smiled and nodded. "You should give it a go. Just because it isn't one of your classics doesn't mean it isn't any good."
"I don't read trashy romance novels," Hermione said. "I like my books to be well written, to have some substance and some bearing on reality."
Pansy sighed heavily. They'd had this conversation before, many times. "You can be a real snob sometimes, Hermione."
"I'm not a snob!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly.
"You're a literary snob," Pansy replied firmly. "Just because my book wasn't written by Jane Bronte or Emily Austin you won't even give it a chance."
"It's Jane Austin and Emily Bronte," Hermione corrected.
"Whatever," Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "You won't even try it. Snob."
"I am not!"
"Prove it."
"Alright I will. Give me the book," Hermione snapped her fingers and held out her hand expectantly. She knew that Pansy had the book with her and had fully intended on making her read it one way or the other.
"Are you going to be open minded about it?" Pansy brought the book from her bag and handed it over.
"Yes," Hermione promised. "But I can tell you now that I won't like it. Woman meets man, woman hates man, man hates woman, stupid unforeseen circumstance happens, man kisses woman and suddenly woman can't live without the man. It's stupid."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "That's not the plot. It's a love triangle actually."
"Oh I see," Hermione replied mockingly. "So woman is in loving relationship, woman's ex arrives on the scene and suddenly woman doesn't know who she loves. It's always the same, just like in soap operas which is why I don't watch them. She's always "I love you, I just happened", it's stupid."
"Is it?" Pansy tilted her head slightly. "Did you plan on kissing me the other week?"
Hermione blushed furiously. "Of course not! We've already had this conversation."
"Then it just happened, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"Just like in the book," Pansy said triumphantly.
"Yes," Hermione agreed grudgingly. "Can we change the subject please?"
Pansy laughed openly. "You always want to change the subject when you're losing."
Hermione couldn't help smiling. "Did you finish your astrology essay after?"
"Yep, turned out rather good too, if I do say so myself." Pansy stretched her arms out in front of her clicking her joints and making Hermione wince. "I'm now free to do what I like for the rest of the day."
"You'd better find something to do then," Hermione said with a coy smile. "After all, the devil finds work for idle hands."
"That's very true," Pansy agreed. "But, my hands aren't going to be idle." She reached out, threading her fingers though Hermione's hair and brought her mouth down to Hermione's.
It was so very different to kissing a boy, softer, smoother and Hermione took more time to touch and taste and explore. Maybe it was because Hermione was a girl, or maybe it was because Hermione was just Hermione; Pansy had no basis for comparison.
Pansy figured that it didn't really matter, she liked Hermione, it was refreshing to be with someone who wanted to talk to her, who was interested in what she had to say, and oh my, could the girl ever kiss!