A/N: This is a one shot that's been rattling around my head for a few years. With the lockdown I've been able to take the time to flesh it out. My punctuation hasn't gotten any better with time, as you can see.
The sun shone through the stained glass window, adorning Ginny's body and hair with a sepia-golden glow that gave the appearance of an ancient greek marble statue. At least, that's how the picture appeared to Hermione. The deep red, heavy drapes hanging around the bed and either side of the window did nothing to diminish the very Hellenic scene before her. It took quite a lot of willpower for Hermione to drag her thoughts away from the girl before her, although she did indulge in absorbing as much of the view as she could, she would dwell on it later.
She reached out and gently shook the sleeping girl's shoulder, quietly noting the softness of the faded forest green Hollyhead Harpies t-shirt that covered it,"Ginny, wake up" she breathed. There were a few minute movements and a snort of air came from Ginny's nose, but she did not wake. A small smile pulled at Hermione's lips, she had always admired the Weasley ability to sleep through almost anything, perhaps learned from existing in a noisy household of 9, or had it been passed down through the generations, as much a hereditary Weasley trait as the blazing red hair and light dusting of freckles?
For the second time this morning, she shook herself from her thoughts and pushed against the soft but firm shoulder once more, this time with a lot more pressure, "Ginny, wake up!" Her voice raised to a higher decibel, the girl now rustled under her covers and jerked slightly as she woke "wss happennen?" Ginny's head turned to face Hermione and she could see that her eyes were narrowed under the early morning glare "oh, Hermione!" Ginny lay back against the burgundy pillows. One hand ran through her own fiery hair, tousling and spreading it against the pillow, blending it against the material. "Why on earth do we both have to be awake at this ungodly hour, may I ask?" She turned her head to squint at Hermione, a small but groggy smile on her lips betraying the lack of anger in her words. "Well, you do still need me to help you with herbology, yes? I thought it best to give you a practical lesson today, we can only use the path by the Devil's Snare to see the Alihotsy plants in the early morning, when the sun is brightest over the forest." Hermione knew the words she had just said came across particularly as though she'd swallowed an encyclopaedia but she desperately wanted Ginny to pass her upcoming N.E.W.T.s and she knew the girl was so much more capable at the subject than her most recent essay marks suggested. This had absolutely nothing to do with spending more time with Ginny. Nothing whatsoever.
The redhead huffed but relented and exited the bed all the same "alright alright, give me five minutes" she started pulling what seemed like random garments from the drawers beside her four poster bed, Hermione took the chance to turn her back and give her some privacy. Sitting on the edge of the younger girl's bed, she pulled a rolled up length of parchment from her jacket pocket to read over the notes she had made for this morning's lesson.
Her thoughts strayed again, inevitably to Ginny, neither of them had uttered a word about that night. They both had shrugged it off and continued to act normally, well normal might have been a push for Hermione, her actions were mixed with a slight hint of awkwardness. Not Ginny though, she seemed to breeze through the last month in the way only she could. Of course, nothing had particularly happened that night, not really. Hermione had received an owl with a letter from her dad, relaying the news of her granddad's stroke, although he assured her that he was absolutely fine, if a little shaken. Ginny had fussed over her as soon as she told her, brushing off quidditch practice in favour of spending the night curled up next to her under a thick blanket on her dormitory floor and staying up until two in the morning talking. Maybe Ginny had just been afraid to leave a silence should Hermione fill it with worried thoughts "who wouldn't want to get inside of your trunk?" the younger girl quipped after listening intently to Hermione's description of Madam Pince, stalking her around the restricted section, akin to one's trunk at the train station, likely trying to ensure she didn't leave any of the old woman's beloved books out of place "I would" she raised her eyebrows suggestively and Hermione couldn't look at her, perhaps she felt emboldened by the lack of sleep or the recent emotional shock, either way she had proceeded to advise Ginny that yes, that would be a possibility. She absolutely could get inside of her trunk, whatever in the name of Merlin that even meant. They had both determinedly looked at the oak floor beneath them, thighs still touching from their earlier girlish intimacy, both beet red, both avoided prying any further. Ginny had left for her own dormitory very soon after, claiming that Hermione should really get some rest.
"Helloooooo" the pale hand waving in front of her face knocked her out of her thought process with a jump, she looked up into the freckled face and raised, questioning eyebrows of the youngest Weasley "Hermione, you really need to be more aware of your surroundings…" she smirked down at her "come on then, are we going or what? I didn't get all dressed up to sit here" Ginny turned to look back at her as she opened the heavy wooden door and Hermione gave a laboured sigh before getting up to follow. She noted with some humour that Ginny didn't really get dressed up at all, just threw some black jeans on and a baggy, no doubt hand-me-down from an older brother, quidditch jumper over her t-shirt.
"If I'd known your legs were so weak before we started walking I obviously wouldn't have brought you here" Hermione shot a taunt at Ginny, knowing that it would make her work harder to prove it wasn't true. Admittedly they were around an hour into the walk through the Forbidden Forest, another reason for getting up so early, to make sure no one could see them sneaking through the line of trees in the school grounds. Her own calves were starting to burn a little from the uneven ground but sure enough, after a few seconds, she caught a few floating strands of fiery hair out of the corner of her eye.
"Took you long enough" she teased glancing around at Ginny trudging along beside her, hair gliding in the breeze, she received a sullen look in response "Oh come on, you play quidditch for hours, in the rain" she swatted an arm at the redhead and heard her grunt then laugh "but that's something I actually enjoy!"
"Well then…" Hermione turned to take in the sight of the younger girl sweating slightly and glimmering in the broken beams of sunlight as she spoke words she wasn't wholly certain she could come back from "you'd best find a way to enjoy this walk, hadn't you?" Whether it was wise to issue such a thinly veiled challenge to Ginny, she wasn't entirely sure. Was what she wanted, to goad her into action?
All thoughts of challenges and action seemed to be forgotten as they reached the cluster of Alihotsy plants and proceeded to go over the herbology lesson that had been prepared. Ginny had a decent grasp of magical plants and properties, even some advanced species which made the mark on the essay she had shown Hermione feel acutely suspicious and out of place. Always one to satiate her own curiosity she straightened her back and stretched her legs in front of herself, leaning against a fallen tree stump, angling her body so that she could face Ginny. Taking in her profile, she was acutely aware that their shoulders were touching and she was sure that the young witch scratching notes on some parchment beside her, with the tip of her ears burning a vibrant red, was equally so. Biting the inside of her lip, she spoke gently "Gin, you really need to spend more time on the essays Professor Sprout gives you, I don't understand how you managed to… Well, how you managed such a bad mark on the last one considering what we went over today and how much you were able to tell me."
"Hmm?" The redhead hummed beside her as the quill continued to scrape over the surface of the parchment, Hermione could see that she wasn't really taking notes any more but just sort of scratching lines into the scroll "Ginny, look at me, please" she noticed the hint of… nerves? Obligingly she looked up, her lip trapped between her teeth "Listen…" Hermione started, she tried to pull every ounce of courage from each cell within her body "I think it's high time we spoke about… you know what" Ginny's nose scrunched in confusion at her words and when she next spoke, she did so slowly, almost with shame "I should have known you'd figure it out eventually" the girl sighed, her shoulders dropped slightly and she looked away from the older witch's face, out between the thick trees "before you say anything else, I know how important my grades are. I just thought if maybe you had to help me with them now and again it wouldn't be such a big deal and we could… I don't know… spend more time together…" she trailed off as though there were words she wanted to continue to speak but couldn't find the will.
Hermione tried to process what she was hearing, but her eyes persisted to stay firmly fixated on a small, ginger curl that caressed Ginny's earlobe. The part of her brain that still functioned went into overdrive to understand the words. Ginny had flunked her essay on purpose, premeditated, she had also wanted to spend time with her, badly enough that she had failed an es… Oh yes, that point had already been covered. She blinked, trying to pull herself out of the slight daze she had fallen into and found Ginny's stormy blue-green eyes piercing into her own, waiting, searching for a response. "Perhaps letting your schoolwork take a nosedive wasn't the best plan, Gin, however sweet the sentiment" the redhead smiled weakly, Hermione continued on "I meant we need to talk about that night… you know…" now she returned the weak smile to the other witch, hoping that she would understand, hoping that it meant something to her too. The blush rapidly rising from the pale girl's neck to her cheeks, even grazing the tip of her upturned nose spoke more to Hermione than her silence did. She had never seen Ginny turn such an all-consuming violent shade of pink-rose, not even when she stood eyes blazing, legs planted firmly apart, screaming bloody fury at Ron in a corridor. Not even when she had slipped on a patch of ice in Hogsmeade, conjured by a gaggle of Slytherin girls who snickered as Hermione helped her to her feet in front of them. Not even after the toughest game of quidditch in the hail and rain. Ginny opened her mouth as if to answer, but all that came out were soft gusts of air. The brunette waited patiently, desperately. Finally the younger witch spoke "did you mean it? What you said, I mean?" She stared at Hermione, lips parted slightly, her brows furrowed with determination, her eyes lit with something Hermione couldn't describe. She could barely tear her dark orbs away from Ginny's lips to answer coherently, they were the same rose shade currently occupying the majority of her blushing face "I… I think I did, yes, if you wanted to, that is" neither of their words made particular sense, although they both seemed to reach an absolute understanding, their faces gravitated closer to the others. It happened so subtly that they both hardly noticed until Hermione could count every individual delicate, orange tinted lash attached to Ginny's eyelids and each pale, dusky freckle that decorated her still flushed skin.
Ginny felt each breath fall from her own lips only to ricochet back from Hermione's. She could recognise the different hues in her dark brown eyes and made a mental note to remember how the outer rings of the older girl's irises were a deeper shade, just like Honeyduke's bitter cocoa, with flecks of hard toffee swirling inside of them, she considered. She shifted her hand to steady herself on Hermione's knee as she felt the softness of her lips connect with her own, instantly she knew that the current amount of contact wouldn't be enough. Their lips moved against each others, almost as if it were already predetermined and neither of them could do anything but accept that they were passengers in their own bodies, experiencing the journey. Ginny felt Hermione's hand grab a fistful of her quidditch jumper and drag her chest flush against hers, she let out a soft noise against her lips at the unexpected impact and felt her own free hand move to grasp at the offending forearm, gripping it tightly. They both felt a desperation in each other's actions, in their own actions, neither wanting it to end.