There, I've now popped my HP fan fiction cherry with this first installment of a story that I otherwise have no idea where it's going. It was all inspired by the song "Mr Brightside" by The Killers, which I've been listening to too much recently. But it's a lovely song - I recommend it.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and affiliated characters, along with their settings and the construction of their world, does not belong to me. Suing will be met with many shed emo tears.

Unexpected

Chapter One: Only a Kiss

Hermione stood there, hands shaking, eyes wide. The intensity of emotions within her was drowning out any sense of reason or logic she had inside of her. It was if everything had stopped, sans the loud pounding of her heart in her ears. The sound terrified her with its inconsistent speed. She was afraid it was going to stop at any moment.

From a mere foot away stood Ginny Weasley, lips parted slightly, her eyes half-closed and clouded. Some locks of her crimson hair had fallen across her cheek; Hermione was afraid to push it away from her face, to look upon the girl who had just kissed her. She wasn't sure what might happen after that. In fact, Hermione wasn't even sure how it had come to this. They were standing there, looking up towards the sky as the Weasley boys and Harry played a small game of Quidditch in the fields behind the Burrow. Harry and Percy were Seekers against each other; it was obvious the boys were enjoying the competition. Fred and George were flying lazily around and trying to hit the bludgers towards Percy. Percy was swearing at them and losing balance on the broom. Bill had just scored another point, and she opened her mouth to cheer, when suddenly there was a small warm hand resting on her hip, another on her cheek, and full lips were pressed to hers.

But how? Why?

"Gin -" Hermione tried to say, but her throat rebelled and choked on the younger girl's name. She felt her cheeks blossom into bright red.

"Dinner in five minutes!" came the call from the window, Molly Weasley's voice magnified by ten times through magic. "Stop playing out there and get washed up! I don't want to see any dirty faces or hands when you show up at the dinner table!"

"We should go inside," Ginny said, pulling herself farther away from Hermione. The brunette simply stared at her, feeling at a loss for words for the first time in her life. Ginny could tell, and smiled halfheartedly at her, before walking away without her. She could only watch and wonder what was going on in Ginny Weasley's head.

"Hermione, did you see that last play at the end? Bloody brilliant!" Ron called from a few yards away.

"Too bad Mum had to go and ruin the game," Fred sulked, suddenly next to Hermione, and putting his arm loosely around her shoulders. "We were about to kill Percy with the bludgers."

"Fred, you really shouldn't talk like that," she replied automatically. Her body knew what to do; it led her towards the house, it replied to the conversation, it flirted platonically with the Weasley twins, and it chastised Ron when he said something blockheaded.

Why? she thought over and over again, each time becoming more panicked. It was as if alarms were going off all around her, inside her, and as she laughed, she knew that she was the only person in the world that knew they were ringing.

Ginny was sitting at table already, hands folded neatly on her lap. Everything was already set on the table; Molly had been nice enough to let them enjoy their summer evening without bothering them with simple tasks, though Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty for not offering to help. She and Ginny could have set the table, helped her make some of the food…

What are you thinking, Hermione? She wanted to roll her eyes at herself. Do you think that by doing something else that wouldn't have happened? She wouldn't have kissed you anywhere else? Besides, it's not as if -

"Hey, 'Mione, you all right?" It was Harry next to her now, one eyebrow cocked upwards. She realized she was the only one not sitting down, and the rest of the family was looking at her with a collective expectant and strange look. All, except Ginny. The youngest Weasley's eyes were full of longing, sadness, and an emotion Hermione couldn't even begin to analyze.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, voice cracking only slightly before she was smart enough to look away from those eyes. "Got a little too caught up in my thoughts. I just remembered something I could add to the assigned essay for Potions."

That set off a round of groans for Harry and Ron, and the rest of the boys joined in to mock Professor Snape. Hermione slipped into the seat from Ginny, suddenly very aware of how small the table was, and how close they really had been this entire time.

Both of the girls played along with the conversation, though they avoided talking to each other. Ginny excused herself early, claiming fatigue and a bothersome sunburn. Fred and George made a joke about the amount of freckles on her face and she laughed halfheartedly. Hermione watched her back as she walked away, the hunched shoulders making her heart burn in an unexpected way.

Hermione stumbled into Ginny's bedroom at almost midnight, after a few games of Wizard's Chess with Ron, who usually couldn't beat her, but had found it remarkably easy to take her queen three times out of five. She could feel their concerned looks on her shoulder blades as she retreated up the stairs, but she made them no heed. It was none of their business what was going on in her head. Especially since she wasn't precisely sure what was going on in it in the first place.

The young redhead was fast asleep. Hermione's eyes found themselves trailing across her exposed skin, which was so pale and smooth underneath the moonbeams streaming in through the window. Her hair looked silky and dark red, and the long locks fell over her closed eyes. Her lips were parted again, like they were in the moments after the kiss. Hermione reached up and pressed her fingers into her lips, and found her heart beating faster again.

Her hands shook as she took off her jeans and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile next to her suitcase, and she dropped her night t-shirt at least three times before she could pull it over her head. Her eyes kept on wandering towards Ginny's legs, sprawled out over the blankets and deliciously bare. The girl was only wearing an oversized t-shirt, like she was, and a pair of panties. It was what they always wore to bed during the summer, and they always slept together during the summer. So why did it make her feel so self-conscious now?

Why could she still feel Ginny's lips against hers? Why was her body on fire; why did she want so badly to brush away the hair that veiled Ginny's beautiful, sleeping face, want so badly to trail fingers up her long, long legs?

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten, up and down the numbers, over and over again. When she opened them again, Ginny still lay there, and still looked beautiful in her eyes.

She let out a sigh and gingerly crawled into bed, facing away from the girl that had left her feeling so confused. Sleep didn't take her until nearly dawn.

It started out with a kiss.