"Ginny, stop it, you're distracting me," You're saying, kneeled over one of what you're sure is a dozen essays you're supposed to be writing, while she sits beside you and runs her fingers up and down your thigh, her head on your shoulder and her lips on your neck. And yeah, she still gives you chills. After all this time and after all the hours you must've spent kissing her and just practically attached to her in general.
She smiles, and you don't see it. You just know. Something in her breathing changes and you can feel her lips moving against your skin and you feel your arms prickling as your goosebumps resurface for what must be the billionth time.
"You love it," She half says, half whispers in your ear, and you feel chills running down your spine, which sounds absolutely ridiculous, but then again, the whole thing is rather ridiculous, now that you think about it. Love is ridiculous, and if you sound like an idiot for trying to describe it, fine, whatever.
"I know, but my NEWTS are only three months away," You say, scribbling furiously. You don't know if you wish she could leave you alone so you could finish this, or if this stupid essay (yes, you did just say that something related to school is stupid) would go and die so that you could run off with her and go make out in some secluded hallway. But it's an essay. Essays don't die.
"Mione, your NEWTS are next year,"
You've seen Ron try. They don't die. He got a zero and detention when he tried to explain that he couldn't hand the paper in because it had died. Dying essays don't solve anything.
"Now stop trying to seduce me, we're in the common room," Not that the whole secrecy thing really matters all that much anymore. You're both partially out, so it's not like it's some huge secret or something. But still. You feel like Ron and Lavander or however you spell her name last year, and while you're sure that you and Ginny together are exponentially hotter, you're still pretty sure that most people would appreciate it if you didn't strip each other and fuck on the couch.
Not that you haven't. You just haven't done it when anybody else was around.
And, now that you're remembering that, the images all rush back into your mind and even though you've seen Ginny naked plenty of times, it doesn't exactly make the effect go away, and it doesn't exactly help that the same hands that do what she does to you are on your thigh right now and. Fuck. You need to stop. Right now. You're like a sex addict.
Well, who wouldn't be if they had a girlfriend like Ginny?
"But you love it," She repeats, smiling again as she leans back and props herself up on her elbows, resting on the wooden table and looking up at you through her hair.
"Stop being so adorable,"
She looks at you for another moment, then grins and kisses your cheek.
"You first,"
"Ginny, I'm a school obsessed bookworm.. creature. Last I checked, that isn't exactly the definition of adorable," You're saying, gesturing at the small mountain of books around you.
"I think it's kinda hot,"
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm. But you know what I think is hotter?"
"Ginny, stop," You say, trying to sound stern but smiling in spite of yourself.
You let your gaze drift around the common room, and you find yourself gazing at Katie, who'd obviously just been staring. You caught her eye for a moment, and you couldn't tell if the hurt or the sadness or the bitterness burned strongest, but for once, you honestly didn't feel guilty. That's one thing you've learned in the last few months-that you have to care about other people, but in the end, your own happiness matters most. Ginny must've followed your gaze, because she chuckles a little bit and says, "Must suck to be her, huh?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," You mumble softly, looking away and turning your head slightly until you find Harry and Ron, sitting alone at a table in the corner. "Now them, you have to feel bad for,"
"One's sister's dating the girl he likes, and the other's other best friend (that's you, 'Mione) is dating the girl he's creepily obsessed with," You hear her saying, tracing her fingers along her hand. "Must suck,"
"Yeah," You say, looking back over at her. Ron and Harry hadn't exactly taken the whole "Wait, the girl of my dreams is gay?" thing very well. "Oh well,"
She smiles, and you smile, and then she kisses your lips and you smile even more.
You haven't been this happy in a long, long time.
"You have to admit, you were a bit scary when you were like, in love with Harry," You're telling her, grinning.
"Oh come on, I was ten,"
"It was kinda cute,"
"You're delusional,"
--
"Ginny?"
"Yeah?" She replies softly from next to you, her hands wrapped loosely around your waist and her head nestled between your neck and your shoulder. This would be one of those times where you and her had the whole common room to yourselves, and you'd taken an entire couch and claimed it as your own, the last embers in the fire in front of you finally starting to die as the clock struck one.
"I'm sorry," Yeah, you're pretty sure that bringing up the fact that you cheated on her last year isn't really on the list of good things to remind the girl you just got together with about, but it's been bothering you.
She mumbles some confused sound into your neck, and for a moment, you don't say anything.
"About.." You trail off, feeling like a complete idiot for even bringing it up, and honestly, you feel too ashamed to even say it.
"I.. Oh. S'ok, 'Mione," She mumbles into your neck again, shifting towards you a little bit more.
You sit in silence for a few more moments, listening to the clock ticking the seconds away as her breath tickles your ear.
Sounding much more awake, she asks, "Was it because of me?"
Well you weren't really expecting that.
"What?"
"Was it because of me?" She repeats, her foot twitching against your leg.
"I.. Ginny, no. It was me. I was.. I don't know. I was drunk and insecure and.." You trail off again. You're supposed to be so charismatic and you're always so sure of yourself, but never around her. You always have all these words and the second she opens her mouth, they all fly away.
She must have caught onto what you'd said, what you'd implied, or what you felt or something, because she said, "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah.. And you know I love you too.. I'm just.. I don't know. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry,"
"'Mione, you're probably the smartest girl I've ever met,"
"I'm still an idiot,"
She pushes herself up, looks at you, and smiles. "You're forgiven,"
She kisses you, her hands in your hair, and then lays back down, huddled against your body, and you fall into silence again.
"You're staying at my place for Easter, right?"
"Course I am, I've told you about a billion times," You tell her, your smile seeping into your words.
She doesn't say anything for a moment, and then she cranes her head up and kisses your cheek.
A minute passes. Then two, and nearly three.
"I think I'm going to come out," She says, though by her tone, you're not sure if she's talking to you or the empty room.
You don't say anything. This is one of those things that you have no idea what you're supposed to say to.
"Yeah, I'm gonna come out," She repeats, sounding more as though she's trying to convince herself more than anything else.
"I mean, Charlie's gay, or bi, or whatever he is, he keeps changing his mind, and he's like ancient. Mom must know about him, right?" She continues, even though you still haven't said anything. "I doubt she'd blow up or ax murder me or anything,"
"I.. I guess so," You stammer. She's braver than you are, that's all you know. Your parents still have no idea. At least, you're pretty sure they don't.
"Yeah, I'm gonna come out," She says a third time, before she pushes herself back up and presses her lips against yours, her hand sliding up the bottom of your shirt.
--
The days following that, the days leading up to easter break, all went by horribly slowly and completely normally. Normal now including, to your incredible glee, GInny. Ginny, who would walk (or, by the looks of it, run) halfway across the castle to grab you and kiss you after your classes and who sat up with you until one in the morning in the common room. Which, honestly, was completely the opposite of how things had been with her last time. And you hate to think that, hate that you're comparing every little thing to now and then, but you can't help it. You can't help but be amazed at how different things are. How different she is and how different you are, and how much better it is.
Speaking of how different things are and Ginny and how different things are with Ginny, you're actually standing in a bathroom, pressed up against one of the stall walls, her hand down your underwear and her lips on your neck.
"Hey, we've never done this before, have we?" She mumbles as she pulls your shirt over your head and cups your breast, your bra still on but one of the straps hanging off your arm. You don't say anything, mostly because you really don't think that you're capable of comprehensible speech right now. She must realize, since breathing the way you are usually tends to give away things like that, because she continues, "It's kinda hot, huh?"
You bite your lip for a moment as she tugs your skirt to your knees and pushes her fingers, two of them, you think, back into you, and then you let yourself moan a broken, "Yeah," though you're not really sure if you mean that it's hot, or if it's because of her fingers.
If her kissing you gives you chills, words can't even begin to describe what this makes you feel.
She smiles a bit--you can tell by the way her lips curve against your skin, and then she stand back up to her full height and kisses you, before going back to work on the rest of you, kissing your stomach and your hip and you--oh god, that feels incredible.
Yes, things are very, very different this time.