This is a special gift for a fan and friend, Jessica, who injured herself this week and requested a Ginny/Hermione. I've never actually done this pairing before - in fact I've rarely put Ginny in a major role of my stories at all...hope I did an alright job portraying the character. Also, just a shout out to fans waiting for updates from me - I had a bit if a personal crisis this week, and then on top of that, got a really bad chest cold...I apologize for the vanishing act. You guys can expect an Avalon update within the next week (Kat has been nagging like a good co-author.) Meanwhile, enjoy this fic. I'm marking this as COMPLETE, though I am aware it can be taken further. If you'd like to see more of this story, review away - you all know how effective that is in getting me to write more. :P
May 3, 1998
Harry had said he needed some space after the battle was won. Ron was doing his best to comfort George; he and the twins had always been the closest among the Weasley siblings. Ginny had found herself cried dry and wandering around the ruined Gryffindor Common room, afraid to look her parents in the eye. Fred had stepped in front of that curse to protect her. It should have been her body that the Weasley family was crying over tonight.
"Gin?"
The redhead looked up to see her friend, Hermione Granger. It had been almost a year since Ginny had seen her last, and she found herself looking at the older girl with new eyes. Even covered in dirt, cuts, and bruises, Hermione was beautiful. Emotionally spent and desperate to be touched, Ginny sprinted across the room and into the brunette's open arms.
"It's okay," Hermione whispered, stroking her hair.
"I missed you," Ginny said, looking up. "So much."
"I missed you too," came the easy reply.
Ginny shook her head in frustration, knowing that Hermione didn't get how much it meant, to see the older girl alive and well at the end of this dreadful day. What happened next, Ginny hadn't exactly planned. It wasn't like she'd had secret feelings for Hermione or anything, but in some mad, desperate attempt to make Hermione understand, Ginny found herself leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Hermione's lips. When the older girl's mouth opened in surprise, Ginny pushed her tongue forward, and a few seconds later, the youngest Weasley suddenly realized that she was snogging the living daylights out of her best, not to mention female, friend.
"Bloody hell!" she yelped, pulling away quickly. "Gods, 'Mione, I'm sorry…"
Hermione looked at her curiously for a moment before replying. "I'm not," she finally stated, taking a step forward and recapturing the younger girl's lips.
Ginny moaned, surprised at her own body's response. She'd never, ever, snogged a girl before, and presently, she couldn't understand why not. Hermione was a fantastic kisser! What would it feel like to…
Grabbing Hermione's hand, Ginny guided the soft fingers under her shirt and across her pale, bare skin. The older girl did not seem to object to pushing the boundaries, because in the space of the next forty minutes, Ginny and Hermione both got decidedly naked, and… eh-hem. By the time an hour has passed, they were both redressed, though still panting, neither having said a word.
"Um…" Ginny muttered as they sat in front of the fireplace. "What just happened?"
"No idea," Hermione said, smiling a little. "But we both apparently needed it."
"What does it mean?" the younger girl asked. She'd always looked to Hermione for advice, and this was no different.
"You're dating Harry," the logic driven Gryffindor said after a minute. "And I'm dating Ron. Until such point when those things both change, what it means really doesn't matter much."
"So it'll just be our little secret?"
Hermione nodded. "Wouldn't be the first, would it?"
July 14, 2002
Hermione laughed as Ginny kicked Harry in the rear, urging him out the door of Potter Manor to go to his bachelor party, preferably before the guests for her own bachelorette party began to arrive. Hermione, being both her maid of honor, and future sister-in-law, had arrived early to help with set up. In the wake of her upcoming wedding, two days from now, Ginny's normally confident demeanor was decidedly muted - the kicking of Harry being the most lively she'd seen the younger witch in over a week. The look of uncertainty in Ginny's eyes was a look Hermione had seldom seen. In fact, the last time Hermione recalled seeing that look was right before they had…eh-hem.
As Hermione had said that evening, Ginny was with Harry, and she was with Ron, and for the last four years, what had happened between them had remained between them - they'd not even spoken of it since.
"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked, sitting back down at the kitchen table. "That's your thinking look."
"About the night of the Battle at Hogwarts," Hermione replied with a soft smile.
"Oh…" the redhead replied, blushing lightly. "That."
"I was just thinking that you look uncertain, now," the older woman explained. "Like you did when I found you in the Common Room. Are you having second thoughts about marrying Harry?"
Ginny sighed. "Got an Owl from Elsa Sheet last week."
Hermione's eyes widened. "As in manager of the Holyhead Harpies, Elsa Sheet?"
"Yup," Ginny breathed out, putting her head down on the table.
"And?"
"She offered me a position on the team," the soon to be Mrs. Potter mumbled. "Chaser."
"And?" Hermione pressed, not understanding why this was troubling her friend. This was an amazing opportunity!
"And Harry thinks a six year contract with the Harpies would be too long," Ginny replied. "As he doesn't want to wait that long to start having kids."
"Oh," she said mutedly. "Ginny…"
Hermione got up from her seat, walked around the table and pulled Ginny out of her seat and into a warm hug. Moments later, Ginny's shoulders were shaking. For a while, they just stood there, the younger woman clinging to her friend for support. As the redhead began breathing more normally, Hermione pressed a kiss to her friend's head.
"It's me that has the carry the rugrats," Ginny vented angrily. "Don't I get any bloody say on when that happens? What the hell is a couple more years of waiting going to kill?"
"Have you told him how much this means to you?" Hermione asked.
"Not really," Ginny shrugged, looking up at the older witch. "I guess I was just so shocked that he shot the very idea down right off the bat. I didn't react at all. I just…went back to doing dishes."
"Then tell him," Hermione urged. "I wouldn't even be surprised if he's been thinking it over too. In fact, knowing Harry he's planning to do something awfully romantic and sappy like to tell you to take the job as a wedding present."
"You know I'm not a big fan of that crap," Ginny grumbled.
"True," came the easy reply. Hermione mentally made a note to give Harry a few pointers on his future wife. Though he and Ginny had known each other as long as Hermione had, it seemed that the brunette knew a lot more about how Ginny ticked than Harry did.
"I don't like romance to be planned! I like spontaneous," Ginny continued. "To be utterly surprised when something happens. Like a kiss I didn't see coming, that I just melt into."
Hermione bit her lip, remembering how Ginny had spontaneously kissed her four years previously. Like Ginny, she adored that sort of thing, and while she'd never before looked at Ginny that way, she hadn't even hesitated in kissing the younger witch back. She hadn't really expected them to go all the way that night, but they had, and rather than making things awkward between them, it had only served to strengthen their friendship.
Suddenly, the older witch found herself desperately wanting to relive that night. Her brown eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, checking the time. They still had over an hour before guests started to arrive, and there really wasn't much else that needed to be done beforehand. And so, Hermione quickly placed her hands on either side of Ginny's face, and kissed her.
Ginny, apparently, had been thinking the same thing, as there was no gasp of surprise from her, but rather a tongue waiting and ready to meet her own. "Our little secret," Ginny whispered, pushing Hermione towards the couch in the next room, hands already moving to unbutton her friend's jeans.
More? Yes? No?