*My Notes:* Hope you enjoy the story… It includes some femmeslash; if that isn't your kettle of fish, SCRAM!!! ::wields scary looking kazoo:: Actually, if you're openminded and tolerant and don't mind exploring new ships or new sexual preferences… Read on. That would be cool of you.
*Chapter One:* /So the Summer Must End/
Ginny Weasley sat atop a green hill, a five-minute walk away from her home. She let her bare toes wiggle and grasp the grass underneath her, embracing the summer holiday she had just lived through and breathed in deeply the smells: Strawberries, that had stained her fingers earlier as she ate them one by one with her brothers Fred and George, who made a big deal out of competing for the most strawberries in their mouths possible (George won); light flowery perfume, that her friend visiting Hermione Granger had worn as they swung together on a porch swing, arms around each other and heads resting on the other's shoulders; an owl, Pidwigeon of course, that had flew frantically into her room as she and Hermione slept, awaking the two (Ron later confessed as responsible).
She stroked her hands against her smooth light-blue sundress, watching the sunset. Tomorrow school would begin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ginny had turned sixteen in April and couldn't wait for her sixth year to begin; the Weasleys had already bought the new supplies, though this year around there were less required with only Ron and Ginny returning to the school.
Making special precautions not to stain her lovely sundress, Ginny stood up, brushing lingering blades of grass off of the material. Her long, smooth legs were eased, having been kept folded up for the past twenty minutes. As she turned to walk back home, her wide hips swung gracefully, her slim torso keeping in rhythm. She had clearly been developing in the past few years: She was a few heads taller than she had been in First Year and she had grown to be pleasantly chesty – although not nearly as well built as Parvati Patil, that stunning Seventh Year whose curves were perfectly manufactured, and not quite as proportionate as pretty Hermione Granger. Still, it seemed enough.
She entered her house to Molly Weasley, her mother, fixing up dinner. She swished her wand, and the green beans slipped into a pot of boiling water; she tapped, and a pan of sliced potatoes began to fry; and with a flick, assorted fruits began to chop themselves.
"There you are, Gin, dear," Molly warmly greeted her daughter, and her proceeding wand waving resulted in a fully set table. "Dinner'll be served in a bit…so if you could round up Ron, Hermione and Harry, I'd appreciate the effort."
Ginny nodded, bounding up the staircase. Behind her she heard her mother: "Now, where are those twins? They promised they'd come for dinner…"
Ginny was rather out of breath as she reached Ron's bedroom, but knocked on the door. She poked her head inside and directed towards Ron, "Mum wants you down for dinner." Before closing the door behind her she snuck a look at Harry, who was propped up against Ron's headboard and skimming some magazine. He looked up when she spoke and she grinned insanely, jumping down the stairs, as she had noticed a faint warm smile play across his lips. He hadn't been so cheerful these past school years – however, thankfully, the Burrow was able to lighten his load of conquering the evil Lord Voldemort a bit. Ginny still was attracted to him, though she knew he wasn't interested.
So she remained a casual admirer, reprimanding herself because she wasn't a schoolgirl anymore…no more giggling, awkward moments or staring. Just, for lack of any better word, admiring.
Within twenty minutes she and most of her family (including the twins, whose joke shop had launched brilliantly immediately after they left Hogwarts, and frequently popped in and out of the Burrow) were eating a large dinner that was most filling. Ginny delighted in sitting next to Hermione (who she considered one of her best girlfriends) and with Fred on her left while munching on salad, potatoes, steak and afterwards, an apple tart.
"Mum, Dad," Fred began after polishing off his desert and standing up, pushing his chair away; "We'll be off now."
Ginny turned round in her chair and gave Fred a half-hug, and then smiled at George, who had also gotten up and was standing across the table. She constantly missed their company, as Ron's friends were always over, resulting in him always running off with them (although Hermione was ever so nice to Ginny while being rushed away by her best friend and, likely to be, boyfriend).
With a sharp noise they Apparated, presumably back to their place in Hogsmeade.
Molly Weasley swished her wand and the table was cleared, leaving the red-and-white checkered tablecloth as clean as ever. "Right, then, off to bed with you. It's a big day tomorrow."
When Ginny awoke the next morning, it was only because of nerves. She was up earlier than the rest; when she turned over she saw Hermione still asleep, her face towards her. Ginny smiled softly, and moved closer to the guest bed where her friend lay. Hermione's wild hair was even worse in the morning, after a full night's rest. Ginny extended her hand, brushing some curls out of her beautiful face, admiring the peacefulness. The redhead continued caressing Hermione's face, watching as her mouth twitched into a slight smile in response to the warm touch.
Ginny had the urge to kiss her.