this story is based off of a tweet i made a few months ago: hp au/no war - where ginny wakes up early 2 teach hermione how to fly properly nd ends up w/ hermy holdin her round th waist nd lesbians r born #HP
Hermione Granger let out a strangled, tense sigh as she looked herself in the mirror. Her reflection smiled slightly back, twisting one of her frizzy curls between her fingers in a flirtatious manner. Resisting the urge to punch the mirror, she turned away instead, setting her sights on the open window beside her bed.
"Oh, shut it." The quiet mutter escaped her, directed towards the giggling figure in the mirror. She tried her best to focus on the bleak, early morning grey before her.
Surprisingly, the Head Girl's dormitory had been simplistic and modern (for the wizarding world, that is). At least it was in her room. Hermione couldn't speak for the aristocratic Slytherin across the hall. Zabini was a handful she preferred to only speak with when scholarly duties called, or when the toilet paper refused to automatically refill.
Thinking of the twat reminded her that she needed to go, and fast. She was already five minutes late! Weasley was going to murder her, revive the corpse, and then kill her again. Hermione tucked herself into the bright red sweater Mrs. Weasley had made her, pulling it snug over her own form. After nicking a hat off the dresser and a muffin from the kitchen on the way out, she was off.
She loved her castle in the early mornings. It molded around her path, stairs falling beneath her with each step she took. Running her fingers over the smooth stone walls, she rushed towards the Gryffindor Tower's exit, and heaved the doors open with a small grunt. The walk from her new dorms was a bit long, but she enjoyed the time alone. Magic was everywhere she looked at Hogwarts. Moving staircases and statues, she was used to. But that didn't mean that looking at them made it any less dazzling. This world, she'd concluded, was where she belonged.
Her train-wreck thought pattern faded as she ran quickly onto the Quidditch Pitch, spotting the familiar redheaded individual, who waved two brooms in her direction. Hermione, laughing to herself in a giggle reminiscent of her reflection's, clumsily ran at them.
Ginny didn't budge a bit as Hermione fell into her shorter figure. Actually, she caught the bushy-haired beauty before Hermione could fall flat on her face.
Hermione, indignant and blushing, pulled herself from the ginger's arms, brushing herself off.
"'Mione, you know you didn't actually hit the ground, right?" Ginny snorted to herself as Hermione continued to blush profusely. "Don't have to wave away imaginary dirt."
"I could of handled it myself, Gin! I was trying to ram you over, if you hadn't noticed."
"Odd, I thought you were trying to land on your face."
She punched Ginny in the shoulder, yelping as her knuckles blossomed in pain, and then cradled her bruised hand to her chest.
"Let's just get this over with." Hermione sniffed, twisting her head upwards and looking away. (But really, she was looking at the other girl from the corner of her eye).
Ginny dropped a broom in front of her. The old Firebolt mocked Hermione, sitting there before her as if it wanted her to fly.
"Get on, love."
Hermione looked blankly to her. Ginny Weasley, smart girl that she was, wanted Hermione Granger to fly a broom. Hermione Granger. She could only imagine what Ron would say to her if he were to witness it.
Ron, her brain whispered the name grossly.
In a tiny fit of anger, she boarded the broom uncomfortably. It began to rise along with her heartbeat. She felt the slight pull against her thighs and her breath started to get shallow.
Ginny chose that moment to slide on behind her, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist. They traveled further, reaching all the way to cover Hermione's grip on the magical device.
Hermione shivered, frozen. How was she expected to fly when all she wanted to do was turn around and hurdle herself into Ginny Weasley? They'd shared around five brief, half-arsed kisses since the start of the school year. All the while: every time Hermione tried to bring it up, Ginny had found ways to evade the questions, and leave her in the dust.
In the dust, wanting more.
But what could she have from her? Harry liked the girl, she knew. Ginny and him had dated once in sixth year, while her and Ron had their… thing.
These pseudo-dates were killing her.
"Hey, Gin." Calling behind her, she maneuvered the broom a few more feet up and moved slowly across the grass.
"Yeah?"
"Let's go get a spot of butter beer after this, alright?"
Hermione listened closely against the quiet morn as Ginny took a sharp breath.
"But Hogsmeade season isn't here ye-"
"Shh," she moved one hand over Ginny's squeezing it lightly. "I'm the Head Girl. Remember?"
When had she gotten this desperate? She couldn't tell.
"Don't waste a broken rule over me."
Neither of them noticed the broom moving higher.
"I think you're underestimating me, Gin"
"And I think that you're quite misunderstanding me, Hermione."
The broom, which had picked up speed, stopped right in its path. Flinging Hermione off and into the air.
Few seconds passed. They felt like hours. Hermione's taller form slid through the air delicately and all she could think about were those bright brown eyes she loved so much.
Ginny caught her roughly and brought them both back down to Earth. Neither of them said anything. Even after they separated on the ground, neither spoke for a while.
"I can't keep doing this, Ginny." Hermione broke the silence with a sad, breathless sob of a voice. The other girl said nothing. "You can't keep pretending that nothing has happened! I still want you. And you continue on walking away. Each and every time."
"Hermione -"
"Don't even try and fix this if you don't want me." Cutting her off, Hermione spun on her heel.
"Hermione, don't walk away -"
"Stop following me!"
Just a few hundred more steps and she'd be at the castle. Hogwarts would welcome her. The Head Dorms were calling. Screw Zabini, she'd make them both tea.
"For Merlin's sake, 'Mione!"
"Don't 'Mione' me!"
"Hermione."
"What?" She turned around exasperatedly, throwing her arms outwards in a tired, beaten gesture. They stood before the castle entrance, a winter chill surrounding the pair.
"Stay with me."
Hermione collapsed into Ginny's arms and longed to feel regret.
Ginny didn't let go.
The morning air begun to pick up around them.