Greetings From Atlantic City! I am new to the group and would like to begin by submitting this (my first) femslash story. I hope you like it.

ADD WATER AND STIR

Subject: Hermione/Ginny(!)

Author: Seascape

Disclaimer: I'm not making a profit because I'm not JKR; I'm TLC… no, not "Tender Loving Care"…no, not "Tastes Like Chicken",… just call me Terri!

Thought For The Day: To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.

Elbert Hubbard

Description: Hermione and Ginny study an extracurricular subject, with unexpected results.

Feedback: Constructive feedback is welcome and appreciated

Rating: M(for the usual reasons)

Author's Notes: Ginny's 6th year, Hermione's 7th

ADD WATER AND STIR

Seventeen year-old Ginny Weasley shouldered her Cleansweep racing broom and emerged from the shadows of the Hogwarts Quidditch stadium into the late October sunshine. Her teammates had left shortly after practice ended; she had stayed to tidy up the Gryffindor locker room which was, as usual, a mess. Now, still in her Chaser's uniform, she lugged her broom and duffle bag of protective gear across the sweeping lawn and up toward the castle.

"It's unseasonably warm for this time of year," she thought with a smile, as her scuffed black boots passed through the long shafts of gold which radiated from between the trees and stretched diagonally across the lush grass under her feet.

Halfway to her destination Ginny stopped suddenly, then made an abrupt detour. Sitting under a tree by the lake was Hermione Granger, looking out over the water. Alone. Ginny's stomach did a nervous back-flip as she walked toward her best friend. Nearing the tree, she saw Hermione with a book she was not reading and with her homework spread out on the ground beside her. Hermione's peripheral vision caught sight of an approaching pair of off-white Quidditch trousers somewhere over to her right and she whipped her head around.

"Hi, Ginny."

Hermione looked genuinely glad to see her. Still, Ginny asked hesitantly,

"Am I intruding?"

"Not at all; I was just taking a break. Make yourself at home."

Ginny threw herself onto the grass near Hermione, who moved over slightly so they could both lean their backs against the tree's broad trunk.

"Is practice over already?"

"Already! Hermione, it's after 5; aren't you going in to dinner?"

"Soon. I just need to finish these two assignments." Hermione pulled several pieces of parchment closer to her and picked up her quill. Ginny took it from her hand.

"This weather is too good to waste," she said.

"I know. That's why I came outside to study."

"That's not what I mean, Hermione. Take your nose out of that book and look around. With four and a half months of winter ahead of us, let's enjoy autumn while it lasts."

Hermione smiled resignedly and started to put her homework into her book bag.

"Gin, would you move for a second? You're sitting on my astronomy chart".

Obligingly, Ginny hopped up, accidentally dropping her duffle bag, which spilled its contents onto the grass near Hermione's feet. With a gasp, Ginny snatched up the bag and began to rapidly stuff her gear back into it.

"Here," Hermione said, "let me help you with that." She reached over and picked up a shin guard, then stared, shocked at what she found underneath.

"Ginny Weasley, what are you doing with a copy of Playwitch Magazine?"

"I found it in the changing room when I was cleaning up," Ginny answered truthfully.

"And you didn't throw it away?"

"Uh, I thought whoever lost it might want it back," Ginny replied, deliberately avoiding Hermione's eyes.

Hermione picked it up and took a closer look. "What do boys see in this smutty rag anyway?" she mused.

"No idea…boobs, I guess."

Ginny sat down next to Hermione once more and they both looked appraisingly at the overly made-up witch with enormous breasts who was winking at them suggestively from the cover.

"Those don't even look real," Hermione scoffed. I'll bet she used the Inflatus Siliconius charm on them!" The witch stopped batting her smudgy eyes and scowled at them both before skulking off the cover in a huff.

"I wonder if the other girls are just as phony looking," Ginny wondered aloud, her hand trembling slightly as she reached across to Hermione's lap and nervously turned a few pages to the first photo spread. It depicted a smiling witch, wearing nothing but a chef's hat, holding a vibrator in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other.

"Being Creative with My Dill Dough," Ginny read the title with a snort. "Who would degrade themselves to pose for something that cheesy? No self-respect, that one, if you ask me."

"She's definitely a tart; no doubt about it," Hermione declared, turning to the next photo feature as Ginny leaned closer for a better view.

They both stared, slightly open-mouthed and very embarrassed by what they saw.

"Sapphos by the Sea" was entirely different. It showed two rather cute young women frolicking on a beach, and on each other, in various states of undress.

"Hermione, what do you…," Ginny turned to Hermione and saw her face was as flame-red as Ginny knew her own must be. Mutually self-conscious, they both turned their attention back to the magazine. Neither of them spoke for some time. Finally Ginny asked, "Do you know anyone who's…well, you know?"

"No," Hermione replied slowly, "but..., in the Muggle world, it's actually thought of as kind of sexy, at least by some open-minded people."

Ginny looked up. "When you say 'open-minded', do you mean guys who read this type of magazine?"

"Well, I've heard that a lot of men think it's titillating to watch two women together."

"Do women think so, too?" Ginny asked in her best approximation of a casual tone.

Hermione hesitated a moment and then answered in a slightly higher voice than usual, "Um…I guess some of them enjoy it…I guess," she finished lamely.

Ginny looked back at the pictures. "I've never…," she said quietly.

"Neither have I," Hermione said quickly.

"I wonder if it's the same as being with a guy."

Hermione didn't answer. They both sat, intently watching the girls in the photo, who were now in the middle of an incredibly torrid scene on a sand dune.

"The blond one seems rather…gymnastically gifted," Hermione observed, with a hint of awe in her voice.

Ginny noticed Hermione glance over at her and looked back shyly. They both smiled awkwardly and Ginny felt her cheeks flush again.

Hermione was thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "Gin, it'll be dark soon; maybe we should go inside." She must have noticed Ginny's look of disappointment, because she quickly added, "I mean, can we finish looking at this some other time?"

Ginny felt her heart skip two beats as she smiled and nodded.

The afternoon was rapidly drawing to a close as they stood and stretched. Suddenly, Ginny looked over and gasped softly. Hermione was standing at the water's edge and the sunset was in her hair and Ginny thought she had never seen anything so exquisitely beautiful. Her heart gave a wrench and she walked over to the lake shore. Hermione saw the look on her face.

"Ginny, what's wrong? You look sort of troubled about something."

"Uh…," Ginny's mind raced to find a believable answer. "…I was thinking if I gave this back to the boys they'd make crude remarks about me having it in the first place. Please don't tell anyone I showed it to you."

"Are you going to throw it away, then?"

"Well, I guess so; I mean, what's the point in keeping it, right?" To hide her confusion, she turned her attention to the riot of color over Hermione's right shoulder, while the latter turned around and also looked at the glorious autumn sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it Gin?"

"Any day I spend with my best friend is beautiful, Hermione."

Still looking over the water, Hermione smiled and said only, "Likewise". She tentatively took Ginny's hand in her own and gave it a slight squeeze.

Closing her eyes, Ginny held on, squeezing back gently as her insides dissolved completely. She stole a look at Hermione's face. It was completely expressionless and Ginny wondered what she was thinking but couldn't bring herself to ask. They stood there, shoulders touching, until the lake's west shore overtook the last sliver of sun, then they released each other's hands, picked up their bags, and headed across the grounds toward the castle, walking silently through the darkening day.

Neither of them saw much of the other over the next several weeks. When they did, it was usually in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry and Ron would draw Ginny into endless discussions of Quidditch strategies while Hermione frowned over her homework, scribbling at a furious pace. Although Ginny remembered that afternoon at the lake vividly, she was beginning to believe she had only imagined it. Had Hermione really held her hand? After all, they had never been very tactile with each other. During Hermione's summer visits to The Burrow, they'd shared Ginny's room and had a few superficial girly chats, but only recently had Hermione's usual starchy manner finally begun to loosen up and she was slowly becoming more candid and open. Ginny, the only girl in her family, was also somewhat reserved in conversation, not being accustomed to confiding in her brothers, who often treated her like a pest and laughed when she tried to engage them in sensitive discussion.

The past summer had been different. They hadn't seen each other for nearly 2 months and couldn't wait to catch up. After an all-night talkathon, during which they'd both confided a little and laughed a lot, Hermione had told Ginny she thought of her as her sister, filling Ginny's heart simultaneously with elation and disappointment. That summer, she began to look at Hermione with very different eyes. At first she thought it was just hero worship; after all, who wouldn't admire someone as intelligent and gorgeous as Hermione? But one sweltering August night, as they lay on the cool floorboards of the screened-in porch trying to escape the heat, Ginny looked across to where Hermione lay on top of Charlie's old sleeping bag, only a foot away. The rays of a nearly-full moon poured through the windows and washed across Hermione's sleeping face. Ginny moved over silently and stared, fascinated, at the beautifully sculpted features, at the gentle rise and fall of the softly rounded chest, at the slight curve of the artistically-shaped hand lying at the edge of the bag, so close to Ginny's own. So incredibly close. Waves of a new and unfamiliar emotion swept through her and she longed to take Hermione into her arms and to be held in return; to wake up and see her deep brown eyes and sleepy smile so near. Did sisters ever sleep in each other's arms? Who was she kidding? Ginny realized, then accepted, that her feelings for Hermione were much deeper than either sister or friend. Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Total bliss and total despair? After all, what chance did she have? Even though Hermione wasn't dating she would probably end up with Ron. And, if not Ron, then with some other guy. Yet, when they were together, Hermione would sometimes smile at Ginny with her eyes or say something complimentary and kind, and Ginny's heart would once again be flooded with a rushing surge of hope.

"Okay, steady Ginny, we're almost there!" Hermione directed, as they staggered to the top of the dormitory steps and into the darkness of Hermione's room, still in their Yule Ball dresses.

"That's good to hear. Are you feeling as giddy as I am?"

"Yes! One of the boys must have spiked the punch. I'll bet it was Dean."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Does my booze smell breathy?" Hermione asked, with concern.

"I can't really tell from here. Hold still for a minute." Ginny leaned toward Hermione's face and watched her friend lose her balance. She caught Hermione as she was falling and they both laughed again.

"How can I get a whiff of your breath when you can't even stand up straight?"

"I can't help it, the room won't stop moving."

"Wait a second, Hermione, while I go light the lamp."

"No, then I'll hit the floor for sure!"

"Well then, come over here." Ginny took Hermione by the arm and leaned her carefully against the wall.

"Ow! It's freezing!" she gasped.

Ginny moved closer and placed her hands between Hermione's upper back and the wall, so her bare shoulders were off the damp stones. Both of them swayed unsteadily in the tall patch of bright light, which passed into the room from the moon, which was shining directly outside the stone-mullioned windows.

"Have the boys come up yet, Hermione?"

"No, they're still downstairs. The later it gets the more immature they're acting. I definitely think there was Firewhisky in the punch."

"Hermione, stop! You're making me dizzy with all that swaying about," Ginny remarked.

"Sorry." Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around Ginny's waist to steady herself. "There, is that better?"

"Well, at least you're standing still," Ginny replied.

Neither of them moved. Hermione looked pensive for a moment, and then said, "I'm really glad you'll be spending Christmas at school, Gin, because I just can't face another ski trip. My parents are going because one of my dad's business associates invited them."

"Harry and Ron would have kept you company."

"I know. But there are some things that it's just impossible to talk to boys about."

"You're right. Periods."

"Romance novels."

"Split ends."

"Sensitivity."

"Mature concepts."

They both giggled uncontrollably. Hermione's next words were completely unexpected.

"You look really beautiful tonight, Gin."

"Not as beautiful as you do." Ginny replied, looking at Hermione, who smiled softly at her. She tilted her head closer to Hermione's. "Those eyes are so deep, I could fall into them," she thought. She hesitated a moment and then asked,

"Do you still want me to check your breath?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, not taking her eyes off Ginny's and continuing to smile in a way that made Ginny weak in the knees.

Smiling back, Ginny leaned closer and closer toward Hermione's closed lips. "Why isn't she opening her mouth," she wondered. A few more inches, still Hermione's lips didn't move. "Please, please, open your mouth!" Ginny thought wildly. Closing her eyes and unable to stop, she slowly pressed her lips against Hermione's. The arms around her waist tensed. Encouraged, she gently let her own soft lips move over Hermione's and felt a tentative response under them, then enfolded Hermione in her arms and began to caress her shoulders as her own lips parted slightly. Suddenly, Hermione gasped and wrenched away. Ginny opened her eyes and saw Hermione cringing against the wall and staring back at her, horrified.

"Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry; I don't know what I was thinking!" She tried to place a hand on her friend's shoulder but Hermione backed away into the far corner of the room.

"Ginny, no!"

"But I…," she took another step toward Hermione, who clutched herself protectively.

"I just want to talk to you."

"I can't…I can't…," Hermione gasped. Ginny looked into Hermione's face and saw either terror, rage or both. Her foggy mind wouldn't allow her to think clearly.

"Hermione, let's talk about this!" There was no response.

"Do you want me to leave, then?"

Still shaking, Hermione turned her face to the wall.

"No, please don't look away, Hermione; please just answer me. If you want me to go, I'll go."

Hermione, refusing to turn back to Ginny, merely nodded her head.
Mind reeling and feeling sick to her soul, Ginny ran unsteadily to the other side of the room and out the door. She pressed her cheek to the cold stone of the corridor wall for a moment, breathing heavily; then, without looking back, ran up to her own room and fell onto the bed, lying in stunned silence, then passing into unconsciousness before she could even cry.

For the next week, Hermione avoided Ginny constantly. Every time she was approached, Hermione would immediately rush over to whoever was standing closest to her and engage them in animated conversation. Even in the Great Hall, when Ginny managed to get a seat near Hermione, their eyes never met and her attempts at casual conversation were always answered with only the barest of responses. Ginny bore it as well as she could, aware that the end of the week was the beginning of Christmas break and most of the other students would be going home. Hermione would have to face her eventually.

Two days before Christmas, after a very late dinner during which Ginny barely ate anything, she marched up the dormitory steps and, without bothering to knock, straight through Hermione's bedroom door.
Hermione looked up from the book she was reading, surprised at Ginny's boldness.

"I'm busy," she said, "…I mean…I was just about to leave." She stood up from her desk and headed for the door. Ginny closed the door and flattened her back against it. "Hermione, this is going to be resolved right here, right now! I can't stand this!" Catching herself, she said more gently, "I only want to talk to you."

Hermione edged away from the door and stood, like a trapped animal, wildly looking everywhere but at Ginny. Ginny watched her pleadingly.

"Hermione, say something; say anything." Hermione remained silent and finally settled on looking out the window.

Ginny threw up her hands, exasperated. "Okay, you won't talk but you're going to listen! Hermione, I feel terrible about what's happened! That it's led to this! That I've upset you so much you won't look at me, you won't talk to me; that you can't even be in the same room with me! I'm here to apologize for what happened that night." She paused for a moment, braced herself, then continued,

"I don't know how to say this so I'll just say it. I'm not going to try to blame it on the liquor. I just saw you standing there with the moonlight coming through the window and you looked so beautiful that I couldn't help kissing you; it just happened. You mean so much to me, Hermione, that even though it was only that one time, it's one of the best things I've ever experienced. I'm sorry for upsetting you, but I don't regret what I did. I'm coming completely clean because I don't want to lie to you and I'd like us to try to salvage what we had before. Doesn't my being honest prove that I care about you? That I care so much that I'll never let it happen again?" The words hadn't come out quite as clearly as Ginny had hoped for, but at least they were out.

Ginny looked to Hermione for any indication that she'd been heard and understood. Hermione's gaze shifted downward suddenly, then she quickly retreated to the far side of the bed and sat down on it, with her back to Ginny. Ginny's heart ached while she stood, silently, looking at Hermione, who was looking at the floor. Not sure of what to say, but desperately wanting to try one last time, Ginny summoned up all her courage, walked to the bed and looked down at her. Hermione continued to stare at the faded rug under her feet.

"Please, at least talk to me. I've promised nothing like that will ever happen again. Please, can't we just be friends?" Still looking down, Hermione slowly shook her head. Neither of them moved for a long time.

"Okay, Hermione," she finally said with a resigned sigh, "if this is the way it's going to be. I'll be right back."

Heartbroken, Ginny left the room and returned shortly with a pile of items, which she placed on the bed next to Hermione, who was still staring at the floor.

"Here's everything I've ever borrowed from you: your blue po-polio shirt, your gray sweater, the books, lip gloss; it's all there."

No response.

Her lower lip trembling slightly, she reached down and gently touched Hermione's hand, which lay motionless on her thigh. Hermione stiffened and snatched it away.

Ginny stood up abruptly. It was time to leave.

"Goodbye, Hermione. Take care of yourself."

Turning on her heel, she walked rapidly to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the corridor.

"Ginny!"

Hearing the anguish with which her name was uttered, Ginny hesitated; but no other words were spoken. Confused, she turned around. Hermione was standing by the bed, shaking uncontrollably, but finally looking at her. "Well, Ginny thought, at least she's come to her senses enough to say goodbye." But instead of speaking Hermione shook her head and then looked down at the floor again.

Ginny, not understanding, took a tentative step toward her. Hermione crossed the room with three swift strides and threw her arms around Ginny, knocking them both against the door, which slammed shut. Hermione's shoulders heaved as she sobbed into Ginny's neck.

"I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry."

Ginny gave her a stiff little pat on the back. "It's okay, I respect your feelings. A lot of people would be uncomfortable in this situation. It's probably for the best anyway. I'll always speak well of you, Hermione."

She turned once again to leave, but Hermione's hands gripped her shoulders and deep brown eyes, wet with tears, gazed pleadingly into hers.

"No, you don't understand. Oh, Ginny, I do care for you!" Soft lips pressed against her own so suddenly it took Ginny's breath away. She stood, momentarily paralyzed with shock, before her arms wrapped around Hermione, pulling her close. Hermione turned her head and kissed Ginny again, this time on the cheek.

"Hermione, I…"

"Ginny, I've wanted to tell you so many times, that afternoon by the lake, the night of the Yule Ball, It's just, well…, I'm just no good at this sort of thing."

"You mean talking about your feelings?" Hermione buried her head in Ginny's shoulder and nodded.

She entwined her hands in Hermione's hair. "Hermione, I've missed you so mu…"

Her words were cut off by Hermione's lips pressing against hers again, more softly this time. Ginny returned the fleeting kiss, and then felt Hermione's hand touch her face.

"I don't want to lose you, Gin."

"But when I asked if you wanted to be friends, you shook your head and…" Ginny stopped abruptly and looked, finally comprehending, into Hermione's eyes.

"I don't want to be just your friend, Ginny; I want to be everything to you!"

Unable to speak, they grabbed each other, and Ginny felt Hermione's soft breasts flatten against her own as they held each other close, kissing, oblivious to all else, until the clock in the bell tower struck eleven. Reluctantly, they separated and Hermione looked toward the door, then back at Ginny.

"Gin, I know it's late. Can I see you in the morning?"

"Do you want to see me first thing in the morning?"

"That would be nice."

Smiling wickedly, Ginny swept up Hermione in her arms and crossed the room. She carefully placed her on the bed, then tumbled down beside her.

"What are you doing, Gin?"

"You said you wanted to see me First Thing in the morning."

"Huh? Oh, I get it."

"I was only joking, Hermione; I'm leaving." As Ginny sat up, Hermione grabbed her hand.

"Did I say anything about you having to leave?"

"Don't you want me to leave?"

"Do you want to leave?"

"Do you think I want to leave?"

"Do you think I want you to leave?"

"I asked you first."

"I thought I asked you first."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Hermione sat up and wrapped her arms around Ginny's shoulders. Ginny returned the hug, and then tried to stand, but Hermione's arms tightened around her.

"Please don't go."

"What if someone…"

"Everybody in your dorm room has gone home. No one's going to come looking for you."

Ginny smiled. "Are you tired?"

"I am a bit worn out from the past week," Hermione admitted.

"So am I. Will you let me put you to bed?"

"Only if I can return the favor." Hermione smiled and kissed her again.

They both pulled off their shoes and socks, and then Ginny moved around behind Hermione's back, sat down once again, and wrapped her arms around her waist. Hermione sighed and leaned back against Ginny, who hugged her tightly. Ginny kissed her neck while her hands moved slowly up to Hermione's chest and began to unbutton her shirt. After pulling out the tail, she slid the shirt from Hermione's shoulders and kissed them. Hermione's hands grasped hers and, leaning back against Ginny's body, she gently placed them against her stomach once again and Ginny shivered from the sensation of soft flesh under her palms. Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, she moved them upwards and felt Hermione press closer against her and sigh, her breathing becoming more and more rapid as Ginny's hands slid higher, finally coming to rest on her breasts. After a long moment, Hermione leaned forward and reached around her back to unhook her bra. Ginny helped her and then moved her hands around to Hermione's chest once again and caressed her breasts, first over, then under her bra, finally sliding it off her body.

Hermione gasped, then turned around and pushed Ginny back onto the pillow, falling on top of her. She tugged Ginny's sweater up over her head, then, after having Ginny sit up, removed her bra as well. Hermione lay back down on top and Ginny, with a sharp intake of breath, felt the warmth of Hermione's bare skin against her own. They lay in each others arms, each lost in the physical closeness of the other, neither wanting the sensation to end. Ginny's hands traced patterns on Hermione's back as she felt the gentleness of the hands tangled in her own hair; then, gasping, she felt Hermione's soft lips on her chest. She moved her hands around to the front of Hermione's body, and began to stroke her breasts again. Hermione crawled back up toward the pillow and they kissed endlessly as they allowed their hands to explore each other's upper bodies.

"Hermione, where do you keep your pajamas?"

"Um…, I forget."

Ginny laughed, then leaned up and planted a kiss on her neck. "Let me finish undressing you."

Hermione raised herself up and reached over to extinguish the bedside lamp, but Ginny laid a hand on her arm.

"Please don't. I want to look at you."

Hermione remained on her elbows as Ginny's hands swept down her stomach and paused when they reached the top of her jeans. Carefully, she undid the button, and then slowly slid the zipper open. Reaching around, she slipped her hands under them and down Hermione's backside, and her fingers experienced for the first time the incredible softness of Hermione's white silk underpants. She rolled over until Hermione was under her, and began to remove the jeans. Hermione lifted her hips to help. Once they were off, Ginny gazed, breathless, at Hermione lying beneath her, taking in every inch of her beautifully proportioned body. Her reverie was broken by the realization that Hermione was trying to remove her trousers. She raised herself up so Hermione could unzip them and push them down over her hips; then, without taking her eyes off Hermione, she kicked them off her legs and onto the floor. Ginny showered delicate kisses on Hermione's breasts and then kissed her way down her stomach. She paused for a moment, and then placed a hand between Hermione's knees, pushing gently, and, as Hermione opened her legs, Ginny saw the spreading wetness on the crotch of her panties. As she lightly brushed her fingertips between Hermione's legs, she felt Hermione shudder and heard her sigh, "Yes."

Ginny pressed her fingertips gently against the wet silk and continued to stroke up and down with a feather-like touch, listening as Hermione moaned and gasped in sync with the movement of her hand.

Hermione opened her legs wider and Ginny's hand slid slowly under the waistband of her panties, down into the warm valley between her legs. She hesitated and asked, "Should I stop?"

Hermione's eyes were closed. She didn't speak, but shook her head from side to side on the pillow. Ginny reached down to Hermione's hips and slowly eased her panties off. Then she moved up the bed and looked into Hermione's eyes, which looked questioningly back into hers.

"Hermione, are you a virgin?"

"Yes", she answered softly.

"I'm going to touch you now. If you want me to stop, I will." Hermione kissed her in response.

Ginny's hand slid downward and began to stroke the fine hair between Hermione's legs, very gently at first, then, with gradually firmer strokes, eventually parting her outer lips; and then, as Hermione touched her elbow and pushed slightly, she slowly began to press a finger up into Hermione's vagina. Her knuckle bent backwards from the incredible tightness, unable to penetrate. Hermione's entire body was rigid.

"Oh, Ginny, it hurts," she whimpered. Ginny's arms went around her.

"You have to let go, Hermione. Your whole body is tense; you're fighting it. I know it's hard for you, being the type of person who doesn't likes to relinquish control…" Suddenly, Ginny stopped. How could she push Hermione into something like this when she cared about her so much? It wasn't right. She raised herself off Hermione.

"If you can't do this, I understand." Hermione's tears took Ginny by surprise and she stroked Hermione's cheek.

"It's okay. I would never force you."

Hermione rested her head up against Ginny's chest and said in a small voice, "I want to so badly. It's just…I'm so scared."

Ginny held her tightly for a long moment, and finally said, "Then we don't have to…" Ginny's words were silenced by Hermione's fingers against her lips. She took Ginny's hand and kissed it, then slowly but deliberately placed it back between her legs. Ginny looked questioningly into her eyes and Hermione nodded.

Ginny got out of bed, walked to Hermione's closet and returned with a large bath towel. She folded it twice and placed it under Hermione's hips. Then she reached for the bottle of moisturizer on Hermione's nightstand and spread a generous amount on her fingers. Once again, she laid her body onto Hermione's and placed her hand back at the entrance to Hermione's vagina. She moved her other arm around her, holding her close. Hermione wrapped both arms around Ginny's neck and sobbed into her hair.

"Honey, are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to hurt you, but if I do this, it's going to hurt."

"I know."

"Then, should we stop?"

Tear-filled eyes looked deeply into hers. "No, I want you to be the one."

Ginny kissed her gently, and then wrapped her arm around Hermione once more. Hermione held her tightly, causing Ginny to respond, "You're still really tense. I want you to breathe in, and then out, with the deepest breaths you can manage. That will help you to relax, okay?" She felt Hermione nod, then listened for the sound of Hermione's breathing in her ear. In, out, in, out, in…as Hermione breathed out for the third time, Ginny thrust two fingers deep into her vagina, heard the breathing that turned into a sharp cry of pain, felt the hot tears that spilled onto her back, felt the delicate flesh that resisted fleetingly, then tore from the force of her fingers. Immediately, she tried to withdraw her hand, but Hermione clamped her thighs around it. She reached down between Hermione's legs with her free hand and spread them apart.

"Honey, let's stop for a while. You're bleeding."

Hermione shook her head against Ginny's shoulder.

"But I know you're hurting."

"I love you."

Again and again, Ginny thrust her fingers into Hermione, hearing the gasps of pain and pleasure, feeling the trembling hands that tightly gripped her shoulders. Suddenly, Hermione's hand reached down and covered hers.

"Ginny, please stop."

"Is it becoming too painful?"

"It's just that, well, I want to please you the same way." They looked into each other's eyes and Ginny nodded.

She gently moved Ginny onto the folded towel.

Ginny lay on her back and watched as her own panties were removed. Shyly, Hermione took her time, sliding them slowly down her legs, before dropping them onto the floor, then she moved nearer and looked again into Ginny's eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Hermione hesitantly asked,

"Ginny, am I your first?"

"Damn, I am so sick of that question!"

Hermione's jaw dropped until she caught the mischievous look on Ginny's face and they both collapsed in laughter. Then Ginny looked very serious and said only, "'Course you are, Hermione. There's no one else but you."

"I'll be really gentle".

"Please touch me the way I touched you."

"But Ginny, I don't want to hurt..."

"I love you, too."

Hermione's well-lubricated hand trembled as it slid into place between Ginny's thighs. She gently traced a fingertip up and down the soft exterior of her vagina. Everything about Ginny was so soft. Hermione couldn't bear the thought of hurting her and stopped abruptly.

"I want this to be special for you."

"Was it special when I did that to you?"

"Yes."

"Then please do the same for me."

"Are you scared?"

Ginny bit her lip and nodded.

"Then I can't…"

"Please, Hermione. I want you to."

Ginny squirmed under Hermione's light strokes, as they gradually increased in pressure, and then finally found the soft wetness just inside her outer lips.

Hermione's hand hesitated for a moment, and then she forcefully pushed her first two fingers into Ginny. A ragged gasp tore from Ginny's throat as she yielded up her center for the first time. Hermione rhythmically slid her fingers in and out several times, stopping when Ginny began to cry.

Hermione withdrew her hand and wiped off the blood on the folded towel before taking Ginny into her arms.

"I'm so sorry if I…"

Ginny's lips met hers and they embraced, their tears mingling on their cheeks, their bodies trembling against each other as they both cried freely in each other's arms. Finally, when they were both quiet, Ginny spoke, "Hermione, you didn't need to apologize; it's supposed to be awkward the first time."

"I know. Still, I want to make up for the pain."

"So do I."

"Shall we try again, then?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, pulling Ginny close to her once again.

They lay holding each other for a while and then two soft fingers carefully slid back inside Ginny's vagina and were still. " It doesn't hurt nearly as much now as before," she thought. Slowly, she reached down and gradually reinserted her fingers into Hermione, who made a small noise in her throat. Her interior, while still tight, was now slightly less unyielding then before. Ginny kissed her softly and began to move her hand as Hermione did the same, first slowly, then increasingly faster. Hermione's breathing became ragged as her body twisted under Ginny's, whose moans became more pronounced as Hermione's fingers slipped in and out of her vagina. It took a long time and Ginny knew they would both be sore for days, but they didn't stop; moving more and more intensely, until first Hermione, then Ginny became momentarily still; then exploded in exquisite waves of release, uttering cries of an entirely different kind.

They lay back on the bed, bodies entwined, and looked into each other's eyes, both filled with the same thought.

This time it had been perfect.