**A/N: This story takes place in the summer before Hermione's 7th year and Ginny's 6th year at Hogwarts. Femmeslash! Don't like...Don't read! This story can be considered part of my HG/GW canon, THE BOOKWORM AND THE FIREBUSH, and therefore takes the following liberties:
-Ginny and Harry were never suggested as a couple. Harry is in a committed relationship with Romilda Vane.
-Hermione and Ron were never suggested as a relationship. Ron is in a committed relationship with Lavender Brown.
-Voldemort was killed by Harry in the graveyard. The horcruxes do not exist and the death eaters are being rounded up.
-Dumbledore's Army never existed.
-The trio attended Hogwarts 7th year.
-Angelina Johnson is in the same year as Hermione. She is in a committed, long distance relationship with Fred, who, obviously, didn't die.
Enjoy!**
"I got you in!" Hermione said gleefully as she entered Ginny's bedroom at the Burrow. Ginny, absently reading an issue of the Quibbler owled to her by Luna, jumped up and hugged the older girl, still holding the letter sent to her from Angelina Johnson that confirmed Ginny's acceptance into their dormitory; Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory Number Five, with five of the brightest girls at Hogwarts, and Ginny would be a part of it.
"It was tough convincing them to let in a sixth year," continued the brunette after Ginny let her go, "But Angelina knows you from Quidditch, so she let you in!"
"Hermione! You know this means we're gonna be roommates!" said Ginny ecstatically, "So, who else is in the Dorm?"
"Well, you, me, Angelina, Lavender Brown, and Romilda Vane," answered the muggle-born witch.
The two girls, who had been sharing a room for the past week as they spent the month before Hogwarts together at the Burrow, sat in silence for a moment. Ginny sat down on her bed, legs crossed, in her pale blue bathrobe. Her long red hair hung down over her shoulders. Hermione stood across from her in a white tank top and pink, floral-patterned pajama pants. Her honey brown hair was messily tied in a bun with her wand.
Ginny broke the silence.
"I'm so freaking excited!"
"I know!" Responded Hermione. "We're going to have a great year. I was so excited when I saw Angie's owl with the early post."
"I'm gonna go take a quick shower, and meanwhile you can write the girls and tell them how happy I am," planned Ginny.
"Okay. Then I'll take my shower and we can go downstairs to tell everyone."
"Hermione," asked Ginny, "I really wanna talk to you about life in a private, numbered dorm. I've only ever lived in the regular communal ones."
"Sure, anything," responded Hermione. "But is there somewhere that we can talk alone...it can be kinda hectic in the house."
"Sure," thought Ginny. " We could go for a picnic. I know a charming little pond out in the fields near the forest. Very secluded, not to mention the silencing and invisibility charms Fred put up when Angelina visited so they could have sex in peace." The pair laughed. "No disturbances."
"Perfect. Now you go shower and I'll write our new roommates."
Ginny smiled and left the room in her bathrobe. Hermione heard the shower come to life in the adjacent bathroom a few moments later. She sat down at the desk and pulled out a pen to write Angelina.
"Dear Angelina,
Ginny is so excited to be a part of Dorm 5. I think she's ready, and this afternoon I'll tell her ALL about dorm life...if you know what I mean. Gin's taking me to you and Fred's place at the pond so we can talk. Have a good last few weeks of summer!
Regards,
Hermione"
As she tied the letter to Angelina's owl, which had been patiently waiting on the windowsill for a reply, Hermione noticed a pale yellow towel folded up beside Ginny's bed.
'Damn,' she thought, 'She's forgotten it.'
So Hermione let the owl go with the letter and reached down to pick up Ginny's towel. She knocked on the white door.
Inside, Ginny said, "What is it, 'Mione?"
"Missing something?" The older witch replied.
Ginny looked out of the clear glass shower door and saw that her towel wasn't hanging on the rod as usual. She laughed, and swore under her breath at her own forgetfulness.
"Bring it in, please, Hermione. I was just about to get out,"replied the buck naked redhead.
Hermione opened the bathroom door and entered. She tried her best to look down at Ginny's feet as she held out the younger witch's towel. The Weasley girl dried herself if and wrapped the towel around her naked body. She used a smaller towel to tie up her hair.
Hermione pulled her white tank top up over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her small breasts bounced slightly as she did. Her pert nipples hardened slightly in the cool air streaming in from the windw, left open to air out the steamy shower. She removed her wand from her hair and shook out her bun. Ginny left the room and said to the half naked Hermione, "See you in a few."
Hermione shimmied out of her pajama pants and closed the door, saying, "See you."
She removed her purple panties and turned on the shower. She thought about Ginny and her very short shower-it couldn't have been more than two and a half minutes.
'There's no way she could Jill off that fast,' she thought.
Hermione had wondered for the entire week she had been at the Burrow how exactly Ginny found time to masturbate. The first night, Hermione had waited patiently in her bed for Ginny to initiate what Hermione had done every night since she started masturbating at fourteen. But she hadn't. And in the end the pair went to sleep, one of them without releasing her pent up sexual tension. Hermione had figured then that Ginny must have been pleasuring herself in the shower, as Hermione had resorted to doing the next day so that she would survive the week without orgasming when she sat down the wrong (or in this case right) way. But the girl never showed any post-orgasmic signs or sex flush when she left, and most of the redhead's showers lasted three minutes or less. Hermione herself took at least five minutes to come, and almost eight in the shower. Luna Lovegood, the fastest masturbator she knew still required a solid six minutes in the shower before she giggled her release and exited the stall with a serene expression and a sticky middle finger.
'Could it be possible that Ginny doesn't masturbate at all?' Hermione thought as she stepped into the shower. She had never met a girl who didn't play with herself at least occasionally.
'I suppose we'll talk about it at our picnic,' she thought as she lathered shampoo into her long, honey colored hair.
When Hermione felt that her hair was clean enough, she turned her attention to another place entirely. She spread some of the bubbles on her perky nipples and lathered her bush of pubic hair, a thick mat of brown, curly hair that covered everything from just about two inches below her navel to her anal opening. She leaned back against the wall of the shower, facing the sliding glass door.
She opened her legs and balanced herself against the tiled wall of the shower stall with her round but toned bottom. Her left hand dove beneath her dark auburn curls and spread open her lower lips, revealing a supple, pink flesh, which her right hand attacked with pleasurable results. She closed her eyes and let the warm feelings wash over her like the water of the shower she was, for the sixth time that week, defiling.
She continued, quickening her pace, but was so busy fingering her wanton clitoris that she didn't hear Ginny open the door and enter the bathroom, looking upon a furiously aroused and feverishly masturbating Hermione with awe and confusion.
But she did hear Ginny's interjection.
"What are you doing?!" yelled the youngest Weasley.
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. She furrowed her brow, let her right hand fall from between her legs, and removed her left hand from its place on her hair-covered pubic mound. She let the water run down her shoulders, back and legs, and stood up straight breathing heavily, before turning her head up and opening her eyes to look at her future roommate.
Hermione was almost angry at Ginny, but she knew that those feelings were only her sex hormones talking, irate after being denied the pent up orgasm that both she and they so desperately needed.
"Isn't it obvious?" responded the brunette brusquely. There were only a few things a teenage girl could be doing with both hands shoved between her legs.
"No! What were you doing with your hands on your...stuff!?" asked Ginny, almost as fired up as her older friend's release-deprived loins.
'Oh my God,' thought Hermione, 'She really doesn't know.'
"For now all I'll tell you is that it's called masturbation, and it's something you should know how to do," answered the naked witch from behind the glass of the shower stall door. "We'll talk more about it on our picnic, okay?"
"Okay," said a visibly shaken-and definitely aroused-Ginny Weasley. The redhead looked down from her best friend's naked form (which she had been staring at since she had walked in on the masturbating witch) at the floor. "I'm really sorry. I just came in to get a hairbrush. I didn't know you were doing...whatever it is you're doing...er...masturbating."
"It's okay," responded Hermione, herself and her dripping-wet vulva calming down slightly. "We'll talk and hopefully it'll all get explained."
"Now," continued Hermione, turning off the water, sliding open the door, and exiting the cubicle, "I'd better dry off, and then we'll go tell your family and Harry the good news."
"Okay."
Hermione picked up her own towel and dried herself off slowly as Ginny, still a little dazed, exited the room. The brunette took care when drying off her heavily aroused genitals, still screaming for attention she knew she could no longer give.
She entered Ginny's bedroom to find the redhead had gone down to the kitchen to pack their picnic lunch with her mother. Slowly, she removed from her magic purse and slid on a pair of white, cotton panties, a plain, yellow bra, and a light green, knee-length dress through which one could see the yellow cups of her bra and the elastic of her underwear.
She headed downstairs, thinking seriously about how she was going to approach the conversation at the pond.
Hermione was already at the landing when she realized it: by the end of the day, she was going to teach a teenage witch, her best friend, how to touch herself.
And what a day it would be.