*My Notes:* You are most certainly my friend if you have read this far. ^_~ LOL – but no, really… Just hope that if you are this far then that means you think this highly of the story!!! ::blushes, then realizes that probably isn't the case::
*Chapter Four:* /Peculiar is Right!/
Ginny breathed in the fresh night air, happy to be out of the stuffy carriages and – finally – back to school. She couldn't wait. It was her Sixth Year: O.W.L.s passed; practically the top of the school; thinking about trying out for Chaser for Quidditch; classes a bit harder, but nothing she couldn't handle if she was up to par with things, which she was for having passed the exams quite well; good friends.
She heard collective happy gasps from the whereabouts of the First Years and didn't blame them; the turrets and towers looked as if they stretched much higher than they in reality did, the large windows showed rows of benches and tables shining brilliantly under the light of many torches and lanterns very impressively, and the din coming from within was creating an excited air amongst them.
However, having seen this consecutively for 6 years now, the thrill wasn't as bracing as it had been for Ginny. The routine was getting quite old, and Ginny set off, loping towards the Great Hall to sit at her House Table. She saw the familiar four tables and fifth for staff; saw blurs of green-blue-yellow-red; she saw the even more familiar long, stretching table with accommodating benches and red-and-gold tapestry hanging above. She grinned warmly, but before she could sit herself next to a few fellow Sixth Years and watch the Sorting of the First Years, her robes were yanked backwards.
She was pulled back through the throngs of returning students, out of the Hall.
"What the bloody –" Ginny started howling.
"Shhh!" a voice came, extremely quiet and without a doubt uttered by Ginny's capturer.
Now Ginny had been hurtled through halls, past the solitary windows of classrooms and some other rooms, just rooms, she didn't even know the purpose of. Someone pushed her up against a wall somewhere, and immediately put a finger to Ginny's mouth.
"Don't speak," they said dead-pan. A torch nearby glinted red and yellow; the face was revealed to be –
"Chantal?!" Ginny gasped, despite the fact the girl's finger was supposed to be hushing her up.
Chantal nodded, seemingly unimpressed. Her hair had been pulled back into a knotty ponytail and her lips glinted as if she had just been licking them. "We need to talk."
Ginny forced a meek laugh. "Er, kind of a strange way to tell me."
Apparently, Chantal ignored that. She sat down with her back to the wall, pulling down Ginny so they were sitting side-by-side.
"Now," she began, looking over into Ginny's face.
"Talk," Ginny shrugged, wanting to get back to the Great Hall…she saw visions of chicken, and cookies, and ham, and fruit, and cake…
"We kissed."
"Uh, yeah…it was part of a game."
"Have you ever kissed a girl before?"
"What?"
"Have – you – ever – kissed – a girl – before," Chantal repeated slowly and clearly.
"Oh," Ginny said, not feeling like answering.
"…because you know, you kiss really well." Chantal licked her lips again.
"Erm."
"That's a good thing, Gin. You're fantastic…a pro."
"Michael Corner never thought so. Dean never thought so. Neville – fucking Neville - said it was 'alright'," Ginny snarled.
Chantal nodded for a moment, looking as though she was trying to teach a toddler who their mommy was and who their daddy was and running out of patience. "That," she said with defiance after a minute of head-nodding, "is why I asked you if you had ever kissed a girl."
Silence.
"There's a real difference between kissing boys and kissing girls, Ginny. Boys are rough and smell sweaty…Boys get boners and want to get you in bed after the first peck…Girls, though," Chantal closed her eyes and laid her head against the wall. "Girls…girls are gentle, and their lips are soft and they smell like everything good in the world. They don't care about how much they get, they don't mind drawn-out foreplay and enjoy simply kissing and touching like hell. Girls are so much more…fun to kiss."
Ginny gaped, and tried to stand up. The hem of her robes was being held by Chantal, though.
"Chantal…Let go! I didn't know you were a –" Ginny struggled with words, "- a… I didn't know you liked girls!"
She was hardly listening. Now she was parting Ginny's black robes, running her hands up from the redhead's ankles – up to her thighs, up to her hips…Chantal got to her feet slowly, feeling the fuzzy gray sweater and its contents, purring as she stroked the beautiful red-and-gold tie, tugging it closer to her…Chantal licked Ginny's neck!
Ginny groaned quietly and tried to push Chantal away. However the girl's eyes were burning with a kind of passion, and she reached forward and, this time, gave Ginny a Real Kiss.
The soft blue eyes widened. Ginny stared at Chantal, who was at that moment locking lips with her. Chantal's eyes were closed serenely, her nose rubbing against Ginny's, her mouth…
Her mouth…it seemed to be burning Ginny with happiness and joy and hot fire. Their lips pressed against each other, both wet, both because of Chantal's licking. Inside Ginny's mouth, her tongue wedged itself inside with Chantal's, free of Ginny's weak protests. Chantal's warm, sweet tongue came inside to visit with Ginny's teeth; it felt like honey dripping onto her taste buds.
Chantal withdrew. "I told you there was a difference," she purred, tucking a lock of Ginny's hair behind her ear. She walked away, but not to the Great Hall…presumably to the Hufflepuff Common Room.