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A/N: Thanks so much for reviewing! I had no idea when I checked how many good responses I received. And thus, you are rewarded (I hope) with this one. It's just for those comments that I wrote this fic. Enjoy!
Hermione watches her fly. It seems more of her type of thing, to watch Ginny rather than be up there in the sky with her. Quidditch. Hermione thinks the game was made for her. Even the way the Quaffle is designed; how it fits exactly into her grip- it just proves it. The only time Ginny is happier than she is when she plays Quidditch is when she's with Hermione. And when Hermione realizes it, a faint smile plays on the corners of her lips.
Hermione watches her in class. Ginny always tends to chew on her quill and likes to draw lazy circles with her finger on the desk, leaving smudges. McGonagall would be quite surprised to know that it was Ginny Weasley that leaves all those marks on the tables. Even though Hermione was assisting in the 5th year Transfiguration glass, she wouldn't reveal her girlfriend. Ginny sometimes stares out the window, looking at the far away pitch and wishing she was there. But more than staring out the window, she likes to look at Hermione. Hermione loves catching her eyes in mid-glance, loves watching that slight blush creep around the tips of her ears. She might as well say she loves everything about that girl.
Hermione watches her all the time, it seems. Even when they're apart, images flicker across her mind, memories of shared bliss. A mental picture of Ginny laughing at the Burrow is on play right now, but that is quickly replaced by the real Ginny, grasping her by the hand and pushing her gently into the Room of Requirement. The door shuts behind them, and Hermione knows exactly what Ginny's requirement of this place is when she sees the bed in the middle of the floor.
Ginny brings their lips together in a smoldering kiss and slides a toned leg between Hermione's thighs. She's already wet…how could she not be? A breathy moan of pleasure escapes and Ginny flashes her lop-sided grin. Hermione thinks that like Quidditch, she was made for Ginny. Because right now, Ginny knows exactly where she will react most. Exactly where she will melt and becoming a gasping heap of satisfaction. Hermione thinks she's near that point without Ginny even touching her bare skin.
And minutes later, when Ginny does touch her there and brings her to her peak, she can't help but tell her how wonderful she is. How breathtakingly gorgeous. Hermione tries with all her might, but it always comes out in the three simplest words that register quite well with Ginny: "I love you."
Ginny presses her lips to Hermione's neck and mumbles into the salty skin soaked in perspiration. "I love you too, 'Mione. Always will."
Hermione watches Ginny Weasley. She knows she will for the rest of her years.