Author:
Emmie
Title: Lucretia My Reflection
Fandom: Harry
Potter
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Continuity:
Utterly unimportant.
Disclaimer: They don't belong to
me.
Author's note: I wrote this at Halloween They were actually
letting me get away with a little goth music at work. And it's
probably OOC, but I just love the idea that Hermione's into the
Sisters.
Summary: Ginny loves to hear Hermione sing.
Ginny does not understand Hermione's penchant for Muggle music. Instruments played by hand rather than with magic; clumsy melodies and words that often make little sense. However, when Hermione forgets to be proper and scholarly, forgets that there are other people around and lets herself sing, Ginny thinks it may be the about cutest thing ever, so she's not complaining.
Come Halloween night, the common room is nearly empty, the last remaining Gryffindors straggling off to bed. Ginny watches as Hermione pores over a rather thick book, humming to herself. She smiles, knowing what will come next.
Softly at first: I hear the roar of the big machine, two worlds and in between, hot metal and methedrine, I hear your empire down... Then louder as they find themselves truly alone in the room, Lucretia, my reflection, dance the ghost with me, and Ginny snorts quietly, because really, what the hell is that supposed to mean?
"Hermione," she says, making the older girl look up at her, apparently startled, although the look in her eyes says she had been perfectly aware of her audience of one, "that sounds like a euphemism for something dirty.'Dance the ghost with me,' honestly..."
Hermione merely fixes her with a dark yet inviting gaze that says, Who says it's not? and goes on: I hear the sons of the city and dispossess, get down, get undressed and it is so incredibly unHermionelike that she finds herself shocked, silent, unable to so much as move. Then she can, and takes advantage of it to stride over to where her housemate is sitting and silence her with a kiss that goes on for quite some time. Finally the two separate and Hermione's eyes shine up at her, looking nothing like you'd expect your friend's eyes to look after you'd just kissed them utterly unexpectedly (your friend, that is, she amends in her head, not the eyes): no anger (which the part of her brain currently operating at full capacity had been rather worried about), not even any surprise, really. No, the look on Hermione's face could only be described as...
Triumphant. And Ginny grins broadly as she realizes that Hermione has planned this, known exactly what she was doing, always kept her eyes on her goal. And Ginny supposes she should be a bit angry, given that she's been manipulated, but she doesn't mind a bit, especially if she gets to be the goal.
"Dance the ghost with me?" she says, sinking down so that she is straddling Hermione's lap. She would like to imagine it comes out deep, throaty, and suggestive, but will never know how turned on the brunette is by her hoarse whisper.
"Get down, get undressed," Hermione murmurs in her ear, not really singing now but the words still have a lilting quality that makes them so much softer than they were originally intended, and Ginny is more than happy to comply. Somewhere in the midst of the explorations of Ginny's hands and Hermione's mouth it occurs to them to relocate to somewhere more private. Back in Hermione's room (being Head Girl, she's discovered, has some fantastic advantages, though she's only just realized how fantastic some of them, specifically having a private room, are), they continue their activities, and when finally they are exhausted drift to sleep at almost exactly the same moment, the rising sun setting alight the bright red hair that is spread over Hermione's shoulder, the tanned arm wrapped firmly, lovingly around Ginny's waist.
The first Gryffindors down to breakfast stop briefly to wonder about the two sets of robes strewn about the corner of the common room.