Warnings are slash, as usual.
Two hours later, back at Grimmauld Place, Ron and Harry greeted their future wives. Harry took Ginny's shopping bags from her, and Ron led Hermione to the basement kitchen where he and Harry had made a magnificent dinner of lamb chops, walnut and spinach salad, crusty sour dough bread complete with savory dipping oils smelling of basil, sage, and red pepper, and a chilling bottle of red wine.
"It smells great, Ron, I can't believe you made this just for us! What's the occasion?" Hermione began pouring the wine into the four awaiting crystal goblets.
"Harry and I just wanted to give you two a nice evening...we're being called away, we might be gone for almost two weeks." Ron said, kissing his bride-to-be on the cheek as he accepted the glass she held out for him.
Hermione took a sip of wine to stop her self smiling. Two weeks uninterrupted time with Ginny? It was almost too good to be true.
"Now don't be mad...this assignment was sent down by the Minister himself!" Ron said, setting down his goblet and wrapping his arms around Hermione.
Harry walked into the kitchen, followed by Ginny, who stopped in her tracks seeing Ron holding Hermione so intimately. It still made her stomache turn over at the sight or thought of somebody being so close to the woman she loved. She recovered quickly, however, and plastered her usual smile on her face, gulping down the wine that Harry passed her.
"I just told her," Ron said to Harry, shrugging.
"Told her what?" Ginny said, refilling her glass.
"Well babe," Harry began, taking her hand. Across from where they stood, Hermione stiffened slightly, though nobody noticed. "Ron and I have been called abroad for an assignement...we might be gone for two weeks."
Ginny glanced at Hermione, who smiled. "It'll be just fine, boys, Ginny and I will keep eachother company." She said, lifting her goblet towards Ginny, who accepted the gesture by gently knocking their glasses together with a small clink.
Ron and Harry also smiled, commented on what wonderful women they were going to be married to, and began to serve dinner. It was a delicious meal, and two bottles of wine later, Hermione and Ginny forgot, just for a while, that their lives were a horrid mess of planning for a future neither wanted.
--
Later that evening, however, an age-old battle was tormenting both girls as their future husbands began to fondle, kiss and undress them. Ginny and Hermione had already agreed that sex with Harry and Ron was necessary, was vital, if they were going to hide their relationship successfully.
So Ginny responded to Harry's advances, allowing him to go down on her, the entire time wishing it were Hermione's bushy curls her fingers were running through instead of Harry's black mop. Then he entered her, and though Ginny moaned, though she pushed him onto his back and rode him until she was in a fog of pleasure, her thoughts were on Hermione, and the memory of three weeks ago when she'd done the exact same thing with her, though admittedly with a strap-on.
Harry also came, his seed caught (thankfully, Ginny thought) by the ribbed condom she'd forced him to don before she'd even taken her shirt off. He rolled off their bed, discarded the condom, then kissed his just-been-fucked girlfriend's hair.
As Ron grapsed Hermione's bouncing breasts, Hermione yearned for Ginny's small, slender hands to be on her. She was currently below Ron as he thrust into her, doing her best to enjoy being penetrated. She was reminded of the time not too long ago when Ginny practically impaled her with a seven-inch vibrator. It had been her most intense orgasm, and she still was able to get aroused by that memory.
Within a few seconds, it was Ginny's red hair that she was pulling at, Ginny's body she was writhing under, Ginny's name her mind was screaming as she came. Ron also found release, and he too pulled of the condom, tossed it into the garabge, and laid beside Hermione, running his hands over her smooth, supple hips and stomach.
Soon, Ron drifted off into sleep, and Hermione quietly got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, scrubbing her body almost raw where Ron had touched her, tears pouring down her cheeks.
--
Ron and Harry left the next afternoon, and the second they Disapparated off the front steps of Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ginny both let out a small breath of relief. Two entire weeks alone, it was almost as if Fate were apologizing for throwing them together, as if She were trying to make it up to them.
"What do you want to do first?" Hermione asked, entwining her hand with Ginny's.
"How about a romantic candle-lit bath with champagne...then a dinner in London at that wonderful Italian place we had our first date at?" Ginny said, bringing Hermione's hand to her lips.
Hermione grinned. Ah, their first date...it was during the Christmas holidays of Ginny's seventh year...Ron, Harry, Mr. Weasley, Percy, Bill, and Charlie were all stuck at the Ministry, a very pregnant Fluer and a very excited Mrs. Weasley were at Shell Cottage decorating the nursery for the first Weasley grandchild, and George was busy with Verity running the joke shop, which was having a mad Christmas sale.
So, left alone, and only having declared their feelings for each other a few days before, Hermione and Ginny decided they would venture on their first date. To them, a grand turning point in their relationship, to the world at large (and most importantly their boyfriends), two friends having dinner together.
They'd gotten dressed up, made withdrawals from Harry and Ron's muggle bank accounts (which the Ministry insisted on each of it's employees on having, just in case something happened to Gringotts. One could never be too careful these days), and went out on the town. They found a small, dimly lit Italian restaurant, with authentic Italian waiters and menus. It was a truly wonderful evening, full of laughter and long looks, that ended with Hermione spending the rest of the night in Ginny's bed. Their first date, their first time together, one of the most magical nights of either girls' life.
"That sounds amazing." Hermione said.
Ginny called for Kreacher, who drew their bath, brought them candles, wine glasses, and champagne. He never questioned the going ons of his mistresses, they both treated him very well, and that was really all that mattered.
Ten minutes later, Hermione and Ginny were shut up in the third floor bathroom, the largest one in the house. The tub itself was marble, large enough for five adults. The floor and countertops were also marble, a soft rose color. From the ceiling hung a magnificent chandiler with white candles blazing merrily, their flames casting shadows on the walls.
"Ahhh..." Hermione moaned, sinking into the hot, lavender-scented water. Baths were very relaxing.
"Agreed." Ginny stated, getting in and sitting directly in front of Hermione, so that her back was against Hermione's chest. Ginny let her head fall onto Hermione's shoulder, savoring their closeness. Hermione trailed her fingers down Ginny's arm, traced each one of her fingers, then moved onto Ginny's toned stomache. As a hopeful professional quidditch player, Ginny regularly worked out. The result was that her body was hard, lean, expertly kept in shape. Hermione dipped her fingers between Ginny's legs, and Ginny let out a small whimper, opening her legs further to allow Hermione better access. Slowly, Hermione began massaging Ginny's clit, which elicited further whimpers from her.
"I've missed this..." Ginny murmured, and she turned around to face Hermione, adjust herself so that she was straddeling her. She looked down into Hermione's face, a swooping sensation taking her over, a feeling of flying in a blue, cloudless sky. "I love you." She said, and leaned down to kiss the brunette girl.
"And I, you." Hermione responded, when the kiss had ended.
--
The window was open, letting a breeze into the spacious room. The king-sized bed was complete with a goose down comforter, thousand-count thread sheets, and large, overstuffed pillows. On the left side of the bed, a redhead laid, watching the rising and falling chest of the other occupant in the bed.
The redhead sighed. They were in love, the two that shared this bed, and they had to hide it from the world. They were forced to spend their time together when their future spouses, and everybody else, would be away. They lived together, though, which was some sort of comfort, but it usually presented more problems than it solved, during sex, for one. How they managed to sleep with their mates and actually enjoy it when the one they truly wanted to be with was only a couple of rooms away was nothing sort of a miracle.
There was a knock on the door, and the redhead sat up, yawned, and answered the bedroom door. A house elf stood, tray on its hand, balancing two plates of eggs Benedict, ham steak, and two tall goblets of orange juice.
"Thanks..." The tray was passed into the hands of the redhead, who set it on the bedside table. The other person in the bed began to stir, shielding their eyes against the sunlight pouring in through the window with their hand.
"Good morning, love." The redhead said, grinning.
"Morning to you, Ron." Harry Potter replied, smiling at his lover.
--
Okay, I know Harry/Ron might make some people a bit queasy, but I'll try to do it the justice it deserves. Don't jump ship just yet, okay? Thanks for reading, and as always, any feedback is appreciated.