Undiluted
by Speakpirate
Pairing: Hermione/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, who is now so rich that I hope she will not mind my borrowing them. This story contains f/f slash. If this isn't something you're into, feel free to read some of the other terrific stories on this site, but not this one.
Spoilers: Goblet of Fire
Ginny Weasley was flat out furious. She was pacing angrily from one end of the Girl's Dormitory to the other, as Hermione Granger tried to stifle a small laugh. Ginny was so adorable when she was angry, and she was definitely angry now.
"'A plain but ambitious girl?!'"she fumed. "Where does that foul Skeeter woman get off writing rubbish like that about you? Oooh, I don't know how you can be so calm about this, Hermione, especially now that she's got nutters sending you hate mail!"
She paused briefly to bewitch one of Hermione's quills to take dictation. "Now you can just tell it what you would write for your homework and it'll take it all down for you. I use that sometimes to take notes in History of Magic. You have to be careful, though, once it copied down Colin's whispering to Maggie Muldoon about meeting in Hogsmeade instead of Professor Binns' lecture on Early American Covens. Not that you would need special charms just to finish your assignments, if a certain vile reporter would just keep out of your business..."
"Ginny, I..." Hermione began.
"No, Hermione, I won't just drop this," Ginny said, 'A taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy!' 'Toying with both boys affections!' I mean really!" she seethed, waving her arms in the air. "Look at this, your hands are completely swollen with puss, and it's entirely her fault!"
Hermione sighed, and looked at her heavily bandaged hands. "Well, I can't say that I'm happy about receiving undiluted bubotuber puss over breakfast, but there's not much I can do about it now. You've been a big help, by the way. That food cutting charm you showed me at dinner was brilliant. Really. Of all the nights for us to have steak."
Ginny abandoned her diatribe long enough to smile over at Hermione. "Yes, well, my mum taught us that one quite early. Not a lot of time to cut up food for all seven of your children. Not that you have a lot of spare time either," she said, quickly picking up where she'd left off, "seeing as you're probably quite busy mixing up illegal love potions!" Ginny's eyes were blazing with indignation, and her face was growing redder with each line of Rita Skeeter's article she remembered. If nothing else, watching her took Hermione's mind off the painful sores covering her hands.
"Oh Ginny, I'm upset about it too. And I'm positive that she's doing something illegal to help her snoop around Hogwarts since Dumbledore banned her from the grounds. But I don't think anyone will care what she wrote in a few months." Hermione looked over at Ginny, who was still pacing. "I mean, keep in mind that when she first started coming up with this nonsense about me being Harry's girlfriend, she said I was 'stunningly pretty.' Now she's writing about my 'doubtful natural charms'. I don't think anyone takes her seriously."
"Your hands look pretty serious to me," Ginny countered, still incensed. "Besides which, she is completely disinterested in the truth. Which is that you are stunningly pretty and have more natural charms than Rita Skeeter could ever dream of." Ginny was far too worked up on Hermione's behalf to restrain any of her feelings about the Witch Weekly article. Including her fury over Pansy Parkinson saying Hermione (who, in Ginny's slightly biased opinion, was easily one of the most attractive and clever witches at Hogwarts,) was ugly.
Hermione's heart took a great leap inside her chest. Ginny had said she was stunningly pretty. That was worth a hundred scathing articles being written about her any day.
"Anyway," Ginny went on quickly, "I brought you something I thought might help with your hands." She pulled a large glass jar out of her bag and sat down next to Hermione on the bed.
"Oooh, what is it?" asked Hermione.
"Well, it's just a basic anti-swelling solution combined with some eucalyptes and wild fern extract to numb the pain a bit. It's best put on warm, as it opens your pores and helps the puss ooze out faster."
"Ginny," Hermione gasped, "It must've taken you all afternoon to make this!"
"It wasn't any big deal," Ginny blushed, pleased at Hermione's reaction. Slowly, she began unwrapping the heavy gauze layering Hermione's right hand. She took a small glop of the greenish potion (which she had also charmed to smell like apple blossoms), and began to carefully apply it to the angry-looking boils on Hermione's hand.
Whether it was the effectiveness of the potion, or the light caressing motions of Ginny's hands, Hermione's sores did indeed start to feel much better. "Where did you learn how to make this potion, Ginny?" she asked.
Ginny blushed and laughed at the same time, as she began massaging the potion into the grooves of Hermione's other hand. "Once, when I was younger, Fred told me that bubotuber puss was a cure for freckles. My face was covered in boils for days. He felt really badly about it, said he never dreamed I'd actually try it. Guess he had no idea how much I hated my freckles."
"You hated your freckles?" Hermione asked.
"Oh yes, I'm still not very fond of them. But I'll take them over boils any day."
"I...I like your freckles." Hermione said hestitantly. "I think they're stunningly pretty."
Ginny stared up at Hermione, startled. Her heart began to pound strangely.
Hermione saw Ginny staring at her, and was immediately afraid that she'd gone too far.
She changed the subject quickly, not wanting Ginny to pull her potion covered hands away from hers. "I'm so glad you didn't believe Rita Skeeter's article, Ginny. I mean, I know you fancy Harry..."
"Fancied." Ginny replied. "I fancied Harry. When I was ten years old."
"So you're not..." Hermione began, "I mean, you don't-"
"No." Ginny replied, "Whatever you're trying to ask me, I don't feel that way about Harry anymore."
Hermione, who had been staring at the floor, looked up and met Ginny's eyes. A current of pure electricity seemed to be humming in the space between them. Still, Hermione didn't feel certain enough to make a move.
"So is there," she asked, "any other boy?"
Ginny just stared at her. "No, Hermione. No. Other. Boy." She declared, not taking her eyes off Hermione for a second.
Hermione glanced down at her hands in confusion. She'd had a hopeless crush on Ginny since the beginning of last year, but the idea that Ginny could ever feel the same way about her seemed next to impossible. Not only was Ginny incredibly pretty, she was also one of the most popular girls in her year. She would never fall for an older, bushy-haired, know-it-all.
"Oh," she stammered self-consciously. "I just thought...I mean, there must be someone."
Ginny continued staring at Hermione, the woman who had been equal parts best friend and feverish fantasy object to her for as long as she could remember. It might have been the tumultuous emotions coursing through her ever since she read the Witch Weekly article, or it might have been the feeling of Hermione's hands pressing against her own, but she was in a state of high aggitation. She could never tell if Hermione was being delibrately dense when she dropped hints about her feelings, maybe trying to tactfully dissuade her from admitting her feelings, or whether she was really completely oblvious to the way Ginny felt about her.
Well, thought Ginny determinedly, there's really only one way to find out for sure.
Taking a deep breath, she brushed one of her apple-scented hands against Hermione's cheek and leaned in closer to the older girl.
"There is...someone" she whispered, as she planted a soft, tentative kiss on Hermione's lips.
Hermione gasped. Heart sinking, Ginny instinctively began to pull away.
"Virginia Weasley, don't you dare" Hermione murmured, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.
Ginny's heart soared. She couldn't believe she was actually kissing Hermione Granger! And Hermione was kissing her back! Hermione's lips were caressing hers passionately, and it felt wonderful and natural and exciting all at the same time.
Hermione moaned as Ginny tangled her hands in the older girl's hair. Their lips were still crashing hungrily together, and Ginny was beginning to find it rather hard to breathe. Hearts pounding, chests heaving, the girls finally broke apart.
Hermione looked deep into Ginny's eyes. "Oh Ginny," she began, "I've wanted to do that for ages."
"I know," Ginny answered, still stroking Hermione's hair. "Me, too. But there's something very important that I need to ask you, 'Mione."
"Yes?" Hermione asked, waiting.
With a wicked gleam in her eye, Ginny inquired, "You haven't been mixing up love potions, have you?"
Hermione's shreik of indignation was cut short as Ginny lunged at her and they began kissing again.
by Speakpirate
Pairing: Hermione/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, who is now so rich that I hope she will not mind my borrowing them. This story contains f/f slash. If this isn't something you're into, feel free to read some of the other terrific stories on this site, but not this one.
Spoilers: Goblet of Fire
Ginny Weasley was flat out furious. She was pacing angrily from one end of the Girl's Dormitory to the other, as Hermione Granger tried to stifle a small laugh. Ginny was so adorable when she was angry, and she was definitely angry now.
"'A plain but ambitious girl?!'"she fumed. "Where does that foul Skeeter woman get off writing rubbish like that about you? Oooh, I don't know how you can be so calm about this, Hermione, especially now that she's got nutters sending you hate mail!"
She paused briefly to bewitch one of Hermione's quills to take dictation. "Now you can just tell it what you would write for your homework and it'll take it all down for you. I use that sometimes to take notes in History of Magic. You have to be careful, though, once it copied down Colin's whispering to Maggie Muldoon about meeting in Hogsmeade instead of Professor Binns' lecture on Early American Covens. Not that you would need special charms just to finish your assignments, if a certain vile reporter would just keep out of your business..."
"Ginny, I..." Hermione began.
"No, Hermione, I won't just drop this," Ginny said, 'A taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy!' 'Toying with both boys affections!' I mean really!" she seethed, waving her arms in the air. "Look at this, your hands are completely swollen with puss, and it's entirely her fault!"
Hermione sighed, and looked at her heavily bandaged hands. "Well, I can't say that I'm happy about receiving undiluted bubotuber puss over breakfast, but there's not much I can do about it now. You've been a big help, by the way. That food cutting charm you showed me at dinner was brilliant. Really. Of all the nights for us to have steak."
Ginny abandoned her diatribe long enough to smile over at Hermione. "Yes, well, my mum taught us that one quite early. Not a lot of time to cut up food for all seven of your children. Not that you have a lot of spare time either," she said, quickly picking up where she'd left off, "seeing as you're probably quite busy mixing up illegal love potions!" Ginny's eyes were blazing with indignation, and her face was growing redder with each line of Rita Skeeter's article she remembered. If nothing else, watching her took Hermione's mind off the painful sores covering her hands.
"Oh Ginny, I'm upset about it too. And I'm positive that she's doing something illegal to help her snoop around Hogwarts since Dumbledore banned her from the grounds. But I don't think anyone will care what she wrote in a few months." Hermione looked over at Ginny, who was still pacing. "I mean, keep in mind that when she first started coming up with this nonsense about me being Harry's girlfriend, she said I was 'stunningly pretty.' Now she's writing about my 'doubtful natural charms'. I don't think anyone takes her seriously."
"Your hands look pretty serious to me," Ginny countered, still incensed. "Besides which, she is completely disinterested in the truth. Which is that you are stunningly pretty and have more natural charms than Rita Skeeter could ever dream of." Ginny was far too worked up on Hermione's behalf to restrain any of her feelings about the Witch Weekly article. Including her fury over Pansy Parkinson saying Hermione (who, in Ginny's slightly biased opinion, was easily one of the most attractive and clever witches at Hogwarts,) was ugly.
Hermione's heart took a great leap inside her chest. Ginny had said she was stunningly pretty. That was worth a hundred scathing articles being written about her any day.
"Anyway," Ginny went on quickly, "I brought you something I thought might help with your hands." She pulled a large glass jar out of her bag and sat down next to Hermione on the bed.
"Oooh, what is it?" asked Hermione.
"Well, it's just a basic anti-swelling solution combined with some eucalyptes and wild fern extract to numb the pain a bit. It's best put on warm, as it opens your pores and helps the puss ooze out faster."
"Ginny," Hermione gasped, "It must've taken you all afternoon to make this!"
"It wasn't any big deal," Ginny blushed, pleased at Hermione's reaction. Slowly, she began unwrapping the heavy gauze layering Hermione's right hand. She took a small glop of the greenish potion (which she had also charmed to smell like apple blossoms), and began to carefully apply it to the angry-looking boils on Hermione's hand.
Whether it was the effectiveness of the potion, or the light caressing motions of Ginny's hands, Hermione's sores did indeed start to feel much better. "Where did you learn how to make this potion, Ginny?" she asked.
Ginny blushed and laughed at the same time, as she began massaging the potion into the grooves of Hermione's other hand. "Once, when I was younger, Fred told me that bubotuber puss was a cure for freckles. My face was covered in boils for days. He felt really badly about it, said he never dreamed I'd actually try it. Guess he had no idea how much I hated my freckles."
"You hated your freckles?" Hermione asked.
"Oh yes, I'm still not very fond of them. But I'll take them over boils any day."
"I...I like your freckles." Hermione said hestitantly. "I think they're stunningly pretty."
Ginny stared up at Hermione, startled. Her heart began to pound strangely.
Hermione saw Ginny staring at her, and was immediately afraid that she'd gone too far.
She changed the subject quickly, not wanting Ginny to pull her potion covered hands away from hers. "I'm so glad you didn't believe Rita Skeeter's article, Ginny. I mean, I know you fancy Harry..."
"Fancied." Ginny replied. "I fancied Harry. When I was ten years old."
"So you're not..." Hermione began, "I mean, you don't-"
"No." Ginny replied, "Whatever you're trying to ask me, I don't feel that way about Harry anymore."
Hermione, who had been staring at the floor, looked up and met Ginny's eyes. A current of pure electricity seemed to be humming in the space between them. Still, Hermione didn't feel certain enough to make a move.
"So is there," she asked, "any other boy?"
Ginny just stared at her. "No, Hermione. No. Other. Boy." She declared, not taking her eyes off Hermione for a second.
Hermione glanced down at her hands in confusion. She'd had a hopeless crush on Ginny since the beginning of last year, but the idea that Ginny could ever feel the same way about her seemed next to impossible. Not only was Ginny incredibly pretty, she was also one of the most popular girls in her year. She would never fall for an older, bushy-haired, know-it-all.
"Oh," she stammered self-consciously. "I just thought...I mean, there must be someone."
Ginny continued staring at Hermione, the woman who had been equal parts best friend and feverish fantasy object to her for as long as she could remember. It might have been the tumultuous emotions coursing through her ever since she read the Witch Weekly article, or it might have been the feeling of Hermione's hands pressing against her own, but she was in a state of high aggitation. She could never tell if Hermione was being delibrately dense when she dropped hints about her feelings, maybe trying to tactfully dissuade her from admitting her feelings, or whether she was really completely oblvious to the way Ginny felt about her.
Well, thought Ginny determinedly, there's really only one way to find out for sure.
Taking a deep breath, she brushed one of her apple-scented hands against Hermione's cheek and leaned in closer to the older girl.
"There is...someone" she whispered, as she planted a soft, tentative kiss on Hermione's lips.
Hermione gasped. Heart sinking, Ginny instinctively began to pull away.
"Virginia Weasley, don't you dare" Hermione murmured, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.
Ginny's heart soared. She couldn't believe she was actually kissing Hermione Granger! And Hermione was kissing her back! Hermione's lips were caressing hers passionately, and it felt wonderful and natural and exciting all at the same time.
Hermione moaned as Ginny tangled her hands in the older girl's hair. Their lips were still crashing hungrily together, and Ginny was beginning to find it rather hard to breathe. Hearts pounding, chests heaving, the girls finally broke apart.
Hermione looked deep into Ginny's eyes. "Oh Ginny," she began, "I've wanted to do that for ages."
"I know," Ginny answered, still stroking Hermione's hair. "Me, too. But there's something very important that I need to ask you, 'Mione."
"Yes?" Hermione asked, waiting.
With a wicked gleam in her eye, Ginny inquired, "You haven't been mixing up love potions, have you?"
Hermione's shreik of indignation was cut short as Ginny lunged at her and they began kissing again.