I wrote the sex scene while processing hair dye. How's that for multitasking? Looks like the lovers are facing some problems. Poor Ginny.
Leather & Cigarettes
Chapter Five: fears and warnings
"At least nobody died," Ginny mumbled to herself with a relieved sigh, followed by a wince at the gash in her leg.
She was just coming back to headquarters; the battle had ended quickly, for the better. Hermione's protection rings had been top-notch. Everyone had managed to pay attention and dodge whatever Killing Curses came their way. They'd even been able to capture some Death Eaters and bring them back with them, disarmed and sulking under their masks. The interrogators would deal with them later. As for Ginny, she needed the hospital wing.
Harry was in front of her; she practically fell onto him, the pain in her leg making her unable to keep herself up. She gasped and gritted her teeth.
"Wow, having trouble?" he asked, with a strained grin. He helped her steady herself, but she was starting to feel delirious, hot blood slinking down her leg, down her side. They weren't fatal, but they burned; magical wounds always hurt worse.
Harry was replaced by a shorter brunette. Ginny allowed her left arm to be thrown around the woman's shoulders, and led down the hallway towards the hospital wing. She was too tired and sore and covered in blood – hers and others' – to talk properly, but she enjoyed the warmth emanating from the brunette's body. It was comforting.
"Gods, you look awful," whispered the woman next to her. Ginny turned her head to the side, the action taking far too long, to see one tear after the other fall down the woman's face. Hermione's face. Hermione?
"What are you doing here?" Ginny murmured in surprise. "Hermione, please, don't cry… I'm going to be fine…"
"Sure, that's what you'll always say, but what happens on the day that you're not going to be fine?" Hermione replied fiercely, her hysterics rising. "I was so scared for you, I still am. It was so hard letting you leave without being able to say goodbye… What if I don't get to say goodbye and you…?" This made the brunette burst into another fit of sobs.
Ginny sighed, forcing her brain to focus on the sobbing girl next to her. Honestly, why did they always have to cry? "Listen, Hermione, I'm always really careful," she said, in an attempt to sooth. "And c'mon, those rings you made are excellent. They made all of us a lot more aware of our surroundings. I promise; I'm always going to come back to you, okay? Don't cry. It'll be bad, y'know, if you're crying when we get there… My mum likes to help out in the hospital wing…"
Hermione gave her a watery smile and Ginny managed to dip down a little to kiss her forehead lightly. The brunette looked up at her with something shining in her eyes that made Ginny's heart skip a beat.
"Now if you excuse me, 'm gonna pass out on that bed over there," she mumbled as they approached the door. Hermione pushed it open and Ginny stumbled out of her arms into an empty bed, feeling the world spin around her. "Hey, Mum."
Molly Weasley sighed in an exasperated tone; it was a common sight to see the both of them in the hospital wing – Molly, to change bandages and perform charms; and Ginny, to receive both.
"Can't you take care of yourself?" Molly scolded, though Ginny knew she was just trying to hide her concern. "You should've taken a page out of Hermione's book and done something stay-at-home! You'd save yourself a lot of damage!"
Ginny waved her hand nonchalantly. "No, no, I'm fine," she insisted, feeling her vision fade. "Really… I'm okay."
Molly simply sighed again and sat herself down next to the bed, pushing Ginny's clothes out of the way to further examine the wounds. "I'll heal these up for you," the eldest Weasley female grumbled. "You'll be fine in an hour."
"Okay," Ginny heard herself respond from someplace far away, before she passed away into darkness.
…
Ginny woke again all at once, like she normally did. The bandages were gone and it was dimly lit in the hospital wing; probably to promote sleep for those who were over-nighters. Ginny had no desire to be one of those people; she grinned when she thought of the delicious amber-eyed goddess probably thinking of her, too. It almost made her want to laugh in delight, but she suppressed it quickly. There wasn't any point in drawing attention to herself.
She crawled out of bed and started pulling on the clothes stripped from her; her pants, her shoes, her jacket. Her body was still sore in a few places, namely her back and legs, but those problems would heal themselves in time. Besides, she knew for a fact that Harry wouldn't pull them into another battle for a few more weeks; though unless he could get Hermione to make more rings, they'd have to give theirs up.
Ginny frowned, admiring the silver band around her left ring finger. It was old and the silver dim, but the magic in it made it sparkle just a little. She twisted it around, watching the magic reflect off of candle light, and noticed for the first time that the heart was pointing in.
"The nerve of some people," Ginny said softly to herself, but she blushed anyway and didn't try to fix it. She was Hermione's anyway, wasn't she? Sure, maybe they had never said it aloud, besides a vague promise to be together after the war, but… It seemed pretty legitimate. If not for the dangerous implications, Ginny would've asked the woman out on numerous dates, bought her dinner, something pretty to wear, kissed her over glasses of wine…
"Out of the gutter, Weasley," she growled as she pushed herself up, swinging her previously injured leg around to make sure it worked okay, and Apparated out. No one would even notice she was gone.
She had barely a moment to gather her surroundings again when a pair of arms threw themselves around her and lips crashed over hers, hungrily coaxing her mouth open. She grinned and complied, wrapping herself into Hermione's body and letting herself float downstream with the surprisingly scantily clad brunette, already teasing her sensitive flesh by brushing her fingers underneath her clothing.
"Are you feeling okay?" Hermione asked her suddenly, pulling away and looking at her with a furrowed brow.
Ginny laughed, nipping at her neck teasingly. "If I wasn't, do you think I would've stayed standing when you jumped me?" the redhead questioned.
Hermione thought for a moment and shook her head. "Probably not."
"Exactly." She didn't waste anymore time with talking. Instead, she captured the brunette's lips with her own again hungrily, reveling in the taste of her and the feel of her, becoming overwhelmed by the emotions filling her.
Hermione was careful when she took Ginny's clothes off, something the redhead was grateful for. Despite the fact that magic healed quickly, there were always ghost pains that stayed behind. They kissed their way into the bedroom, Ginny grinning and peeling off Hermione's slinky lingerie, leaving it to litter the hallway. When the door closed behind them, Ginny pressed Hermione dominatingly against the door, enjoying the way the smaller brunette gasped and looked up at her with lust-filled eyes. She kissed her passionately again, biting down on her bottom lip playfully, teasing her mouth with her tongue – before she dashed away quickly, crawling underneath the covers of Hermione's bed before the other woman could even process what had happened.
"What?" Hermione said incredulously, blinking as Ginny's head peeked out from underneath her dark comforter. "You are the strangest person I've ever made love to," she added slowly after a few more heartbeats, laughing.
Ginny just grinned again. She was feeling so lighthearted, it was amazing. What was Hermione doing to her, anyway? She'd never acted like this in her life, other than with the brunette – so what did that mean? But none of that mattered right now. What mattered now was trying to get Hermione into the bed, making love to her for a few hours, and then falling blissfully asleep in the brunette's arms.
"I'll take that as a compliment!" Ginny squeaked, before ducking her head beneath the sheets again, sniggering to herself.
She heard Hermione snort in incredulous laughter and the steps she took closer to the bed, but held still, as if lack of movement would hide her better. But as she felt Hermione's body crawl into the bed and her warm skin slide against hers, she couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan and curl her back to better be wrapped up by the older woman.
"My, oh, my," Hermione whispered in her ear, her breathing driving Ginny even madder with desire. "I do believe I've found a Ginny in my bed."
Ginny turned her head to look at the brunette, feigning disbelief. "A Ginny? Where?"
Hermione's only answer was to kiss her. Ginny felt herself falling into the feeling, turning her body around so she could wrap her arms around the older girl, pull her on top of her. Their hands roamed over every possible inch of skin, their moans turned into music to their ears as the darkness cradled their bodies, pushed them closer together. That's what it was about, right? Finding comfort and love in the darkness around them.
Ginny easily regained dominance and was on top of Hermione, the brunette looking small, vulnerable, and deliciously delectable beneath her. Ginny brushed away some of her cinnamon-sprinkled brown hair before kissing her mouth gently, trying to memorize the softness of her lips.
"Tired?" Ginny asked her gently, making a game out of it in order to ignore the knot of complications twisting in her stomach.
Hermione shook her head, running the back of her hand across Ginny's cheek. "No. Are you?"
Ginny smiled. "No, but we will be."
They kissed again, slipping back into the heated passion, the one that threatened to engulf both of their hearts and bodies in flame if they weren't careful, and ran her hands down Hermione's body, feeling every curve of skin and bone, cupping her breasts softly to make the older woman gasp into her mouth, moan as she massaged her nipples skillfully between her fingers. She let her hand slip down her abdomen, raking fingernails down her sensitive sides, letting the tension build up between Hermione's legs as she pressed into the skin right next to her hip, slid her fingers over the great heat between her legs and across her inner thighs, before finally submitting to Hermione's whines and whimpers.
Her hand worked miracles; she felt the already wet skin practically drip sweet dew onto her fingers as she rubbed and moved them inside, faster or slower depending on the space between each of the brunette's breaths, watching her face as she touched her just in the right spot, watching her lips form the words "faster" or "harder" without being able to find the voice to say them. But Ginny knew and complied, barely being able to comprehend how she had managed to get here in the first place, making love to the most beautiful girl in the world.
Hermione came in a frenzy of bucking hips and guttural moans, the latter beginning in Ginny's mouth when the woman had brought her head down for a climax-induced passion-overwhelmed kiss, but she had been unable to contain herself, and it let loose throughout the room, throughout the apartment, ending in a few last shuddering breaths and twitching limbs. The brunette kissed her again breathlessly, softly, as if all the energy had been drained from her body – as, indeed, it had, Ginny couldn't help but add with an internal smugness.
They stayed in the warm glow of post-orgasmic silence, Hermione settled with her head on Ginny's chest and her arm across the redhead's belly. Ginny laid contentedly petting her hair and rubbing her back, knowing that's what Hermione liked best. They used to lie just exactly like this when they had dated at school. They had been each other's first lovers, learning the dance together. But even the first time had been indescribably good.
Her brain wanted to dwell on it further, but her body suddenly felt a petite hand fondling her wetness enticingly. Hermione popped her head up from her chest and grinned widely, and Ginny mirrored it before turning off her brain to anything else but the wonderful feeling between her legs.
…
Ginny's internal clock went off just before dawn, the world outside Hermione's apartment awash with grey light. She glanced across the bed to find Hermione still sleeping peacefully, lips parted and hair in her face. Ginny smiled and brushed it gently away before reluctantly slipping out from the warmth of the bed.
She dressed quickly, the cold touching her in more ways than one. She didn't want to leave, of course, but she knew it was for the best. She didn't want anyone – good or bad – suspecting what was going on between them. Either way, it would have consequences, and both sides would result in Ginny having to give this – Hermione – up. Despite what she kept trying to tell herself, she wasn't sure she could deal with that. Of course, she'd never admit it.
"'Mione," she mumbled, prodding the woman's shoulder. The brunette sighed lightly, but didn't wake. "'Mione," she repeated, a little louder.
"What?" Hermione asked breathily, opening her eyes part of the way.
"I have to go," Ginny told her, putting on a small smile. Hermione was adorable when she was sleeping.
"Oh, okay," the half-asleep woman replied, yawning. Ginny could tell she wasn't even aware of what was going on; at least, she wouldn't remember later. "I love you, g'night." Light snoring followed these words; Hermione was fast asleep.
Time stopped. Ginny didn't know how long she stood frozen there, staring at Hermione's form with a sinking feeling in her stomach and a light feeling in her heart. "I love you" echoed in her mind like an ominous mantra repeated by saintly lips. Hermione had spoken the unspeakable, whether the brunette had meant to or not. And those three words could cost them their lives.
It was in a panic that Ginny Apparated back to her own apartment's balcony, a cigarette in her mouth as soon as she felt put together. It was lit within seconds, the smoke pouring into her to calm her racing heart. "I love you," Hermione had said, "I love you." She meant Ginny; she loved Ginny. Hermione Granger had admitted it. It was real. This, this was real.
But it couldn't be, it couldn't be. A million different horrible scenarios flew into her brain at once, making her hands shake so bad she could barely hold her cigarette, all ending in serious injury, death, capture, anything. It was all wrong, she was screaming in her head. This was all wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen.
She stamped out her cigarette and tossed it over the side, but the sound of wings made her look back as she went to open her balcony door. An owl landed on the ledge, rolled up parchment tied to its foot. Ginny swallowed, finding no spit, and took it slowly.
Meet me at the coffee shop in twenty minutes.
Harry.
It wasn't a fake; there was Harry's official seal at the bottom, a phoenix with flaming wings. She didn't know what it meant, but her suspicions made her feel nauseous and uneasy. Harry knew. Somehow, Harry knew.
"Gods," Ginny moaned, tripping into her house with tears already forming in her eyes. "I'm such an idiot." The redhead sighed, rubbing her eyes, and tried to calm down. She let her mask, the one she used when she was on the field or at headquarters, to fall back over her, eyes turning dark and expressionless. They had to stay that way, especially around Harry. Though she loved the man like a brother, they were at war, and he was her leader. Weakness could not be tolerated.
The walk to the coffee shop was uneventful. She chain smoked, lighting one cigarette before the previous had barely gotten down to the filter. It was calming her nerves, but not reining in her emotions underneath her thick layer of skin. That would only take a good mental breakdown, much later, in the privacy of her own apartment. Alone.
Don't think on it, she thought fiercely, gritting her teeth. Don't do that to yourself yet.
She pushed open the door to see a bubbly blonde behind the counter, chatting away with a tragic poet with dark hair, and Harry sitting in the corner, two coffees on the table. She inclined her head in his direction when he caught her eye and bee-lined through the maze of tables and chairs to him. She didn't bother taking off her jacket. She knew this wouldn't take long.
"Things going well?" she asked him pleasantly, sipping at the cup facing her. Espresso. Harry knew her drink.
"Mostly," the green-eyed man replied vaguely. He didn't take his eyes off of her.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny snapped, frowning as she leaned back. "Why'd you call me here?"
Harry cupped his hands around his own drink, looking as if he was trying to warm his hands, but Ginny knew better. He was simply trying to find the right words to tell her what she already knew. "Hermione," he said finally. "What's going on between you?"
"Nothing," slipped from Ginny's tongue before she could stop it.
Harry snorted. "What's that on your finger, then?" he asked, gesturing to the ring.
Ginny found herself blushing, and hated herself for it. Why did that boy have to be so god damned observant? "It's none of your business," she said softly.
"No, Ginny, it's very much my business." Harry's tone changed from that of friend to that of a leader. She noted the change and steeled herself. "You are putting not just yourselves on the executioner's block, but everyone in this entire operation."
"How do you know what's going on, anyway?" Ginny shot at him while he paused. She thought of him sending spies to Hermione's apartment, face turning hot with rage at imagining people peeping in on them during those really intimate moments.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ginny," he replied, exasperated. "I had your brother tail you a few times. He's seen you go to Hermione's apartment twelve times in the past month." The redhead didn't speak. She couldn't deny it. Harry used her silence to continue. "You don't understand, do you? If they detect a pattern, they'll be able to figure out what's going on. They're going to know who's in that apartment. If we lose Hermione to them, it's over. Do you want that on your shoulders?"
"Of course not," Ginny said softly, feeling herself completely empty inside.
Harry nodded, seeing that she was breaking. She didn't care. It's not like they hadn't both expected it; Ginny was only surprised at how far she could feel the cracks going. "You need to end it," he told her, after a few moments of silence. "You need to end it as soon as possible. For both your sakes," he added softly, eyes lightening. "I know how much you care for her, but you have to care enough to be able to let her go. I don't want to see either of you get hurt."
Ginny nodded, finding herself unable to hook onto any one thought pattern. The feeling of everything falling apart was overwhelming. She said nothing as she stood from her chair and left, coffee forgotten on the table.