My Notes: It's finished and I'm amazed. This chapter ends everything – and I like it a lot. If you do too, read on to the deleted scenes and other special goodies! And don't fret, I'll be writing MUCH more femmeslash

Chapter Thirteen: /Wishing for the Summer/

It was sunny on that Saturday in January, which was odd. The torrential rain that had begun after the triumphant Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match the day before had lasted all night. The temperature had even lowered to where the raindrops became large shards of ice, whipping fiercely at the windows of common rooms where students sat snugly in front of fires underneath layers upon layers of blankets in their according house colors.

But the morning after, you would have never been able to tell. A cheerful pink-orange-yellow sun rose as if it was springtime, and Hogwarts' grounds were grassy and green rather than acres of soggy dead grass. The scowling grey rain clouds had been chased away, leaving a clear faded-blue sky. It was a rare day for wintertime, and it was beautiful.

Ginny woke up at six o'clock. It was rare to see her, or any other Weasley awake and fully functioning at such an early hour, especially since she had spent all of last night drinking butterbeers and exploding a few of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks with the Gryffindors, who had taken advantage of the house victory and had an all-out party. But she felt like she couldn't sleep in. She'd just defeated Malfoy, for heaven's sake.

And once the euphoric Gryffindor Quidditch Team had finally put Ginny down, Hermione had run over and tackled Ginny into a giant, warm (though wet) hug. Hermione's huge mane had been only slightly tamed down by the heavy rain, and ringlets colored like no-cream-no-sugar coffee were plastered on her face and onto her clothes. She'd leaned in closer – if it was possible – to Ginny, and whispered in her ear, "You were brilliant." Then with another tight squeeze on Ginny's arm and a grin, Hermione had joined in with the group of Gryffindors who were singing a rousing rendition of "Put the Quaffle Through the Hoop," their arms around each other in a vision of red-and-gold that would have made any passing Slytherins gag.

That had made Ginny's day. That had made Ginny's sixth year. That had made Ginny's life. Hermione had been so close, and had smelt so good, and said something so nice.

'Hermione is very nice,' Ginny thought to herself as she pulled on a pair of flared khaki chinos and a white button-down shirt, over which she layered a dark red sweater. She substituted her fingers for a brush as she drew her hair into a bun, thinking how limp her hair felt and how coarse and wild Hermione's must be.

Her clogs pattered on the stone staircase down from the Girls' Dormitories, sounding like the ghost of a horse. The room was empty. Gryffindors never were early risers.

She strolled by the Great Hall and saw that even though there were only a few groggy Ravenclaws falling asleep on their table, breakfast was ready as ever. Ginny decided it was stupid not to eat, for her stomach truly was aching and besides, she deserved to eat as much as she liked! So she devoured the muffins, gobbled down the eggs, and savoured the porridge... and when the half-interested Ravenclaws thought she was finally finished, watching her stand up and begin walking away, she turned around again just to nick a peach from a fruit bowl.

Ginny had been sitting against the trunk of the large oak tree near the lake for about an hour before she heard the small voice beside her. "Hi."

She had been gazing at the waves on the lake. The bright sun was reflecting off of them and Ginny couldn't help but be completely enraptured. Her eyes were attracted to the intensity, and Hermione had almost been worried at Ginny's trancelike state.

"Hermione?!" Ginny thought out loud.

Answering with a giggle, Hermione nodded. Ginny hadn't noticed the other girl come and sit down next to her five minutes before. If she had, she wouldn't have decided to mimic shampoo models by taking her hair down from its bun and flipping her red-orange hair flamboyantly. She had been trying to replicate the sexy swishing hair she'd seen on so many of the models. Now that she realized someone had been watching her, she blushed and felt foolish.

"But it's so early! It's...," Ginny trailed off.

"Eight o'clock, silly," Hermione said. Oh. So Ginny had spent more time staring at the bright lights than she had thought.

Hating to break the comfortable silence, Ginny knew she had to ask the question she'd been itching to ask ever since this stupid escapade had begun. "Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"Why... Why do you...like, talk to me? I wear boas! And I impersonate shampoo models!" Ginny felt immature and stupid and almost like this was a dumb idea.

Very seriously, Hermione looked into Ginny's eyes and said, "Ginny, you're one of my good friends. And I don't have many, being a stuffy bookworm and a bossy Head Girl." She smiled faintly, knowing she had just ripped off most of Malfoy's material. "Besides, you're a really great girl. Oh, and your hair is gorgeous and you were cute in the little green dress." Hermione smiled more broadly, as if she had just given in and told a major secret.

As Ginny thought that to herself, she thought, 'Well, maybe she just did just tell me a major secret.' Encouraged by her girlish thoughts, she stared back into Hermione's eyes. "But... Haven't you heard things about me kissing girls?"

She was staring so deeply that not only could she see Hermione's pupils expand, but she could also see herself reflected in the golden brown of Hermione's eyes. She saw herself searching Hermione's eyes for secret meanings and clenching her fists in nervousness.

Hermione looked out at the water, though it seemed to blind her, and for so long that Ginny thought no Seer could divine a response. The tension persisted and Ginny wanted to cry.

"Yes, I did hear about that," she said quietly. Both girls were looking away: Ginny, at her hands, trying to hold back tears and Hermione, still watching the undulating water. "And I just wanted to know why I wasn't any of those girls."

Ginny's head shot up. Her eyes needed to see it and her mind needed to believe it. And her tears needed to be released; she was so overwhelmed with a million different sensations. So Ginny cried softly, staring adoringly at Hermione, who was smiling and even gave Ginny a wink, which only made Ginny giggle through the emotions she was feeling: the lust, the anxiety, the love.

The giggles. Both girls immediately burst into laughter, peals of which Hagrid heard as he walked Fang. Ginny turned to Hermione and, still chuckling, straddled her to embrace her in a hug as warm as the night before, but with something new – a new understanding between the two. Love.

Resting her forehead on the other girl's, Ginny breathed in Hermione, who didn't smell of rain as she did the night before, but now of cinnamon and raspberries. Tentatively, Hermione leaned in closer to Ginny and kissed her silently, her lips soft and tender. Ginny inhaled sharply, and felt that everything she had ever dreamed of was suddenly exploding in reality, and it was so weird because she knew she wouldn't wake up.

Hermione seemed to be conducting everything, which was just as Ginny had imagined it. When she opened her mouth, Ginny opened her mouth. When their tongues met, Hermione led the dance. It was just so Hermione-like of her.

Yet this didn't feel like Hermione mechanically reciting important dates in history or automatically correcting someone's grammar. It felt like something much less tangible than knowledge. It felt like… Love – real love.

Ginny kissed even harder as she excitedly thought about it, about finding true love in another woman and having it returned. Her fingers were entwined in Hermione's hair, so glad to finally be able to massage her, and touch her like this. She didn't even open her eyes because then she knew she'd see her familiar four-poster bed and know she had just had a crazy fantasy. But when she felt Hermione's hands on her breasts so tenderly, she knew she would have never been able to invent something this grand in all her dreams.

When her eyes opened, she realized that she wasn't wearing her sweater anymore, and most of the buttons on her shirt were undone. Hermione's Gryffindor robe was lying with the rest of their clothes, and as it turned out, underneath, she had been wearing a tight, silky long sleeve shirt. No wonder she had felt so soft.

In the wake of their fervent kisses, Hermione and Ginny lay exhausted on the grass, their arms around each other, Hermione's head on Ginny's collar bone looking up at her lovingly, snuggling with her, hand still occupied under the white blouse. If Ginny were a cat, she would be purring. As a girl, she was simply breathing in and out deeply, sensing Hermione's warm body against her and feeling as though she could now be eternally happy.

Quietly drifting off to sleep, Hermione murmured, "Ginny… Something tells me… We are going to have an amazing summer."

Fin

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."

- Albert Camus