a/n: This is my adult-only account. I do not take fic requests.
If you enjoyed this, try reading the fanfics on my general account that are under the name displayheartcode.
The title comes from a poem by Sappho that is already referenced in the fic.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling.
Title: stretches over salt sea
Word Count: 1K
Summary: Ronnie pays Hermione a visit at Hogwarts. [Gender AU – F/F]
Hermione felt herself start to relax in the library. Large shelves packed with old books, the air tasting like wax and ink, the way the gentle winter sunlight coming through the stained-glass windows of scholars bent over rolls of parchment. This was her solace as she ran her hand down the spines, hoping for one to catch her eye.
When in doubt, she remembered with a smile, thinking of Harry and Ronnie and their adventures together, and she grabbed a book, go to the library…
The fires burned low in the torches and long shadows stretched as more students left to go back to their dorms. This was when Hermione enjoyed the library the most. The lack of distractions and having these books to herself felt more like a fantasy than reality. Bundled up in a jumper she had borrowed from her girlfriend, she was perfectly content to stay at her table and read about the reformations in the fourteen-hundreds about the public practice of magic.
She scratched at a dry spot of ink on her wrist and continued to read. They still had a month before exams, but there was no point in wasting time. Lost in her reading, she barely noticed the sound of footsteps coming closer. A slight cough.
Hermione felt someone's presence behind her, catching the scent of orange-blossoms. Ronnie's freckled hands gathered themselves in Hermione's curly hair, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.
Hermione dropped her quill. "Veronica!" All thoughts of Hopkins and witch-trials left her mind in a rush as a blush spread over her face. She turned and saw her girlfriend leaning her hip against the long table. Instead of the hand-me-down Muggle clothes from her sisters or the too-long school robes, she was dressed in her Auror uniform. Black trousers emphasizing her long legs, the starch-white top and close-fitting maroon robes. Her red hair was gathered in its usual plait, and Hermione's fingers itched to tug at it or her shirt-collar that opened at her throat.
"Always the tone of surprise," Ronnie teased, and her smile wide. "I've been told you're studying too hard."
Hermione raised her chin, catching the amused glint in Ronnie's blue eyes. "Well, your brother isn't studying enough. He has his future to think about!" She was going to have a strong word with Gawain about running his mouth.
Ronnie crossed one ankle over the other, arms folded under her chest. It was a purposeful gesture meant to draw Hermione's eye, and it always worked. It was a shame the fabric wasn't thin enough for her to tell…but that wasn't proper in a library, no matter how many times she had fantasized about them in the Restricted Section.
Then, Rory said, "What can I do to make you worry less?"
Hermione chanced a look around the library. They were nestled in one of the far back corners where the cushions in the chairs felt they were made of mothballs. Most of the students preferred to stay near the entrance where they could quickly make their exit, but there was something cozy about being tucked away from prying eyes. It was also easier for her to do her illicit research where she didn't have to worry about anyone nearby and telling a professor. (It was the I saw Hermione comparing illegal Polyjuice recipes from other cultures or cross-referencing dangerous rare plants shouldn't be a hobby, Hermione warnings she had nearly escaped from over the years.)
(And the last time they had been alone was a month ago in Hermione's dorm. Ronnie's loud moans in her ears, hips buckling as Ronnie dipped her head lower…)
Hermione licked her dry lips. She slowly looked Ronnie over, considering her words carefully as she drew herself together. "I might have a suggestion." After all, who was she to deny her girlfriend the rare visit?
She closed the textbook and placed it to the end of the table where she kept the rest of her research stacked on top of each other. She then smoothed her hair back, wincing as she felt how frizzy her hair felt. Scottish winters always made her skin too dry and hair a terrible mess, but Ronnie was looking at her as if she had the secrets to Chudley winning.
She was about to make a quip about it when Ronnie crossed over and pulled her in a deep kiss.
Hermione's body was against the table, and they were pressed together from hip to chest to thigh. It had been such a long month full of letters and daydreams about what they should do during Hermione's winter holiday, but now Ronnie was here, and Hermione was pushing her Auror robe off. She nipped at the exposed hollow of Ronnie's pale throat; and felt Ronnie reward her with a sharp hiss of surprise. "Warn a witch next time…"
One of Ronnie's knees was between Hermione's thighs, and she cursed the winter weather for making it too cold for her not to wear stockings. Back in the summer, she had taken to wearing dresses that Ronnie could easily pish up. But Ronnie was already making her way down, pulling the jumper off, undoing the buttons on Hermione's blouse and pushing the fabric back. She nuzzled the space between Hermione's breasts, her teeth lightly grazing the edge of her bra as she dropped to her knees.
"Will…will you stop…" But Hermione was panting, and her body was impatient. The desire she felt was nothing like the novels she had read with women swooning over muscled-men but felt more like the anticipation of watching a wave crash on a rocky shore. She remembered being amazed by the sea when she had been at Shell Cottage, feeling the briny tug of the water urging her to come closer. There was poetry she knew of maidens made of sea-foam and pearls, and she had recited some of them over the summer just to see Ronnie's face turn red. And her light/ stretches over salt sea/ equally and flowerdeep fields…
"I can hear you thinking too much," Rory said by her opened thighs. Few things could make Hermione swear. This was one of them as she clutched the table for support and thighs spread further apart. Her body reacted as Ronnie pressed her mouth to the seam of her stockings Ronnie curled a hand around her upper thigh, stroking with her thumb. "Don't you want to relax?"
"Fuck," she whimpered.
Hermione looked down at Ronnie. For someone so tall, it always amazed her how Rory moved her body. With her kneeling by Hermione, there as something almost knightly about her posture, even with her long plait coming undone and cheeks bright pink.
It was hardly proper for Hermione to be doing this as prefect, but she found all the reason in the world as she was lifted on the table by her girlfriend's strong arms. When the wave crashed over her and she never felt more at peace.