WHISPERS 2 (5/7/03)

Summary: It feels right, but what if it isn't? That late night discussion might have given Hermione and Ginny answers, but it left them with even more questions.

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and thus do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. I'm also sorry if f/f slash offends you, but I think it's beautiful.

Dedications: This is dedicated to my girlfriend, Nicole.

* * *

"Oh... OH!"

I smile to myself, a secretive smile that she cannot see. My fingers dance at her sides, fluttering lightly across that wonderfully smooth skin. It is more brown than my own, but that doesn't take much at all. I kiss her neck gently again before my hands drop down, lower, to her hips. Last night was amazing. If she'll let me do what I want to do, this morning will be even better.

But I think I already know that she won't let me.

It's amazing that no one caught us last night as we made love for the first time in the common room. I still cannot believe that I managed to fall asleep afterwards when all I could think about was her lips and her hands and... oh, oh.

Her taste.

"Hermione," I mutter. I'm much too young for this, aren't I? Much too young to have someone else's naked body pressed against my own, much too young to have such sexual thoughts. But I've never felt so at ease in my life.

We are in the shower.

Together.

Will wonders never cease? Yesterday, I cried myself to sleep because I was in love with the Wrong Person. I, a girl myself, was in love with another Girl. It was so very wrong of me indeed. Then, I woke up and happened upon that very girl, who was in love with me, too.

And the feel of her hands between my legs, doing amazing things that I had never even dreamed of...

Nothing had ever felt so right.

"Ginny," she says. She speaks to me, warningly, but I'm not quite ready to stop. I pull her close, pressing her into me. I'm the one that's touching her, yet I think I'm as turned on as she is.

"Ginny."

I sigh, and I wrap my arms around her naked waist. I want to have my way with her, but she won't let me. She let me do it in the middle of the common room, the carpet rubbing violently against that smooth skin of hers, but she won't let me do it in the middle of shower protected with eighteen different privacy charms.

"You," I say, "are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

I was going to touch her so much more. It was one thing to explore that body with my finger tips; it was another to run my tongue across those perfect breasts. If Hermione would just let me, my mouth would have memorized every inch of her by nightfall.

I let her go now.

Hermione turns to me slowly, stepping back into the gentle stream of warm water. I do not have her warm body so close to me now, and I shiver. Still, that cold feeling does not last for long. My eyes trace the curves that I had been touching just seconds before.

"You can't just come into the shower after me, Ginny," Hermione says. "What would people think?"

I say nothing and take a step forward. My hands are at her waist again, but this time she is facing me. She does something that surprises me.

"Ah," I say.

It is all I can manage after that kind of a kiss.

Hermione tries to look stern, angry with me even. Because she is staying, so very perfect and so very nude, this is hard for her.

"Ginny, you can't just follow me into the shower," she says.

"I wouldn't ususally," I say truthfully, "but it's half past five, Hermione. Not even six yet. It's a Saturday, or did you forget? We don't even eat until nine."

"Why did you follow me?" she wants to know.

I pull her closer, so close that our breasts are touching just so. Her arms finally wrap around my waist.

She is even more amazing looking as water droplets roll off her body. I cannot answer her, not with words at least. My hands are moving of their own accord. One reachs between her legs to cup her most sensitive parts.

"The things you do to me," she sighs.

"And in only five minutes, too," I say slyly. I grin, almost wickedly.

"Why did you follow me?" Hermione still wants to know.

"I was listening," I say, "and waiting for someone to get up. I woke up not an hour ago from the most amazing dream."

"Dream?" she says, like she doesn't know know I'm talking about. I look deeply into her eyes. She actually doesn't.

"I was dreaming," I say, hoping to get this right, "of doing this to you."

I slip a finger inside of her, and she gasps. I cut off the sound, kissing her perfect mouth and working her gently. This isn't actually what I was dreaming about.

"We have at least an hour befoer another living soul wakes up," I say, and I stop what I am doing. "Can I, please? I'll make it fast."

"Oh... OH!" I knew she was about to say no, so I chose that moment to touch her clitoris. Again.

I am small, but Hermione is a bit smaller. She's older, but that doesn't really mean anything. I am caressing her so gently. I love giving her this pleasure, and it doesn't even matter so much if it is returned. I just want so badly to touch her.

We are standing so close now that we are both under the narrow jet of water.

"This," I say, breaking off our kiss and slowing my work between her legs, "isn't actually what I was dreaming about."

"What?" Hermione says, confused.

"Do you trust me?" I ask. She still looks confused, but she nods.

I withdraw from her, gently, gently, and back her up, my hands light on her once more. These showers must have been made with this in mind. There is a bench thing of sorts in back, meant to hold one's bath items. It is sturdy, not hollow, and it holds Hermione just fines. I get down, down on my knees, and seperate her thighs so gently. She knows now, what I am going to do. She shivers when I'm not even touching her. I'm the one in the water now; she's the one in the air.

I kiss her inner thigh.

I kiss her there again, this time letting my tongue through my lips to brush against that perfect skin. I want to taste her, but I want this to be perfect.

Another kiss.

I haven't done this before.

She knows that.

But what if I mess up anyway?

Another kiss.

I want this to be perfect.

She won't be mad at me if it isn't.

Another kiss.

"It's okay," she says, and I look up. Her breathing is irregular already, but she is looking at me intently.

I touch my tongue to that swollen area, that forbidden area. I am waiting for her to tell me not to do this, to get away from her, but no admonishment comes.

I realize that she wants this.

And I realize that I want this just as much.

Slowly, slowly.

I enter her slowly, just as any respectable boy would on her first time.

This is lovely.

I shouldn't like this, but I do. It's wonderful, and her reaction is even better.

Hermione is moaning now.

I make slow circles around her clit with my tongue. I tempt her, going in and out of her with it. I brush against it so much. Her juices have begun to flow.

"Ginny..."

It's my name, but it doesn't sound like my name. If I wasn't doing what I was, I would have grinned. Hermione is so beautifully intoxicated with sex.

"Hermione," I say teasingly, drawing back from her for not more than a second. It is enough to make her whimper.

I plunge into her with my tongue.

This is my final attack.

I lick her like I would want to be licked. My tongue caresses her the way my finger did the night before. She is shaking now, shaking in her thighs. She is so close...

...and she is over the edge. I continue to lick her as she trembles and moans and screams and screams and screams

my name.

Ginny Ginny Ginny Ginny Ginny

She tastes sweet and wonderful. I did not get to taste her, not like this, last night. She shudders one last time.

"Hermione," I say.

"Oh."

It is all she can manage, still. I stand, water dripping from my body. She is nearly dry, cold now. I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. It is the gesture of friends, not of lovers.

But that was what we were, first and foremost.

"I want to..." she says, but I put a finger on her lips to silence her.

"I want you to, too," I say, but I hold her and keep her from moving. "I want you to do it tonight."

She nods. My ginger hair is falling over her shoulder and her brown is over mine.

"Hermione," I breath.

My Hermione.