Practice Makes Perfect
"What if he tries to kiss you?"
"Sorry, what did you say, Ginny?" Hermione frowned at the mirror and poured out another dollop of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.
Ginny was curled up on Hermione's bed, her own dress robes laid out waiting for the Yule Ball. "What if Viktor tries to kiss you? When you're dancing, or something?"
"Oh," Hermione flushed. "I doubt he would."
"I think he might," Ginny said. "He really likes you, I've seen him watching from across the Hall."
"Well, if he does, he does," said Hermione briskly.
"Aren't you nervous about it?"
Hermione turned around and looked at her. "Are you trying to make me nervous?"
"No." Ginny traced patterns on the rug with her toe. "I'm worried about Neville. I've never kissed a boy. What if he tries and I do it wrong?"
"I don't think Neville's likely to criticize," said Hermione, with an impish grin. "Do you, really?"
"I suppose not," Ginny said. "I thought, maybe, we should practice?"
"The two of us?" Hermione looked startled.
Ginny nodded, her face red. "You're the only one I trusted not to laugh."
Hermione's lips were soft against hers, and suddenly Ginny was not worried any more.