I lay in bed. Her bed. A bed in which we shared a completely platonic and innocent relationship.

I looked at her in her state of peace, I watched her chest steadily rise and fall with every breath. I observed the way her hair sprawled over the pillow we shared and intertwined with mine, creating a startling contrast : straight against wavy, red against brown. I admired her long eyelashes that flicked over her eyelids and cheeks. I traced her nose with my eyes, all along counting the freckles on her smooth skin. I gazed at her cheekbones that led to her chin, her neck, her collarbone… And then I wondered why I was looking. I didn't… no, I couldn't… It was Ginny, for God's sake.

And then she moaned slightly, half-opened an eye, and turned her head.

I had shut my eyes quickly, blushing deeply, not wanting to get caught staring in the weak light of dawn. But my heart was still beating quickly. That moan…

I turned back towards her. I could see her hair. I was aware of her body pressed against mine, I could feel her hand which was slumped by my thigh. My breathing was shallow. I tried to look away but I couldn't. That night, I realised she was my train wreck.

Eventually, my 18-year -old self drifted off into a sleep filled with confusion and denial.

At that point, I had no idea of just how much of a train wreck Ginny Weasley would be in my life.

----

"Hermione? Hermione, breakfast."

I opened my eyes slowly to see her above me, an apologetic look on her face.

I melted.

"Sorry," she whispered, "But it's mum. She says you need your food… I would have left you, but you know what she's like…"

"No, it's ok," I replied my voice cracking ; I was still shaking off the last signs of sleep.

I yawned and looked at my watch, but I couldn't concentrate on the time.

"Thanks." I added, smiling slightly and sitting up.

Ginny looked concerned. She bit her lip and frowned, looking straight at me.

My heart skipped about a thousand beats, and I had to break the gaze, fixing my hair behind my ears.

"When did you go to bed last night?" Ginny demanded. "We can't work all day and night, you know." she continued softly.

"Oh." I said, "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

I'm fine?

Ginny sighed, shook her head, and then smiled.

I sighed inwardly.

"Look, why don't you come and sleep in my room tonight, just like the old times?" Ginny asked, "It'll be fun, plus I can check that you actually go to sleep for an acceptable amount of time…" she finished playfully, her eyes lighting up and catching mine's questioningly.

I froze. Sleep in a bed with Ginny? I wanted to but… not for the right reasons. I reprimanded myself silently.

Ginny obviously took this moment of silence as hesitation of being checked up on and looked after.

"Right, it's sorted." she decided with a nod, "You don't want to sleep in Ron's old room anyway. It's so… orange. " she said lamely, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

I smiled in spite of myself, looking around at the old Quidditch posters.

She was correct. I didn't really want to sleep in here… right?

"And," she added gently, "I'm worried about you." Ginny poked me playfully in the upper arm.

Shivers went through my body. The epicentre - where Ginny had just connected with me - ached dully.

"Ow!" I whined, mostly to cover up my body shaking, "That hurt!"

"So mature, Hermione!" Ginny laughed, grabbing my wrists that threatened to slap her teasingly.

"Yes, because poking someone in the arm is the height of maturity." I joked, new flutters in my stomach appearing with the link of Ginny's warm hands on my now limp wrists.

Ginny laughed, shrugged and got up. I was secretly disappointed at the bare feeling on my newly-free wrists that she left behind.

"Just come down to the kitchen when your ready," Ginny informed me, " It's just you, me and mum today."

"Save me a seat then." I teased.

Ginny smiled, turned around, and walked out of the room.

I exhaled, slumped back on the bed, and worried.

Could I trust myself in a bed with Ginny again?

---

Evening at the Burrow. Me, 18, and Ginny in her room. It was a hot night, so our bodies were sticky and our pyjama coverage was limited. The bed covers were kicked to the bottom of our legs, and there was only a small sliver of light illuminating our corner of the room.

I was awake, she was asleep, as was the recent pattern of slumber in Ginny's bed.

It wasn't a particularly large bed, in fact it was quite preposterous to have two "fully-grown" witches in such a small space. This had proved both a blessing and a curse to me. I could feel her against me, but then I had to deal with the ever-growing consequences.

Ginny had been facing the wall, and I had been quite contented in gazing at the back of her body and head, the shape of her legs, her t-shirt which had ridden up above her hips giving me a slight glimpse of the even skin on her back, her hair exposing her beautiful neck… Yes, I had been very satisfied with the view…

But then she sighed in her sleep and turned over, right into me, her nose a fraction away from my neck, one arm hanging limply over my waist, the other folded into my lower stomach, her legs entwined with mine.

I had stopped breathing. My heart was beating rapidly, my body stiff. I was scared to move in case she woke up and moved, in case she was embarrassed. Slowly, I regained my ability to breathe. As minutes went past, I was getting more and more uncomfortable yet relaxed at the same time. It was… strange.

Eventually, I couldn't take it any longer. I had to touch her, to embrace her back, to feel her breath on my lips…

I had reached out a hand, hardly daring to believe what I was doing, and placed it softly on Ginny's damp hip. The connection of my hand with her bare skin was electrifying.

I shuffled carefully down the pillow until my face was level with her's. It was then that I noticed that the wetness in between my legs wasn't just sweat…

Ginny sighed again, and I had panicked. What had I been thinking? I was trapped now though, so I had shut my eyes and hoped for the best.

What happened next was confusing, exhilarating, unexpected and… beautifully innocent.

I had felt Ginny's lips press against mine. I stiffened once more. Before I could react further, it was all over. Ginny had retreated back slightly, about an inch away from my lips. I opened my eyes in amazement.

Inside, I whimpered . I noticed that Ginny was seemingly asleep. She must have kissed me by accident : she had been dreaming.

Of course! What had I been thinking? I let out a tiny laugh at the huge disappointment I was feeling. I was stupid.

I didn't sleep that night. Ginny had turned over again, like it had all never happened. I went back to being aroused by myself, as usual.

We never spoke of it. I'm not even sure now if it was real.

Yes, I was stupid. But doesn't… it… make you behave like that?