Author's Notes: Written for springkink on Livejournal.

Prompt: Harry Potter, Hermione/Ginny: kissing, touching, pushing the envelope - It had started out as practice, but now Ginny's knickers were almost off.

1 200 words of Hermione/Ginny smuttiness. Enjoy!


"How are things between you and Harry?" Hermione asked warily. She was looking at Ginny with a very calculating expression, as though expecting her to explode at any second. "I heard that he told you…"

"That he wouldn't be seeing me anymore, not until the war's over," Ginny said bluntly. "Yeah, I didn't much like it – I won't lie – but I understand why he did it, obviously."

"So… things are all right between you, other than that?"

"All right?" Ginny asked with a snort. "Yeah, things are all right between us… except for there not actually being a 'between us' anymore."

"I meant…"

"If there's something you're dying to say, then spit it out."

Hermione looked conflicted, then finally cleared her throat and asked, "Have you and Harry… done it yet?"

Ginny's face was quite pink. "Good Lord, Hermione, who asks that?"

"I was just curious," Hermione said defensively. "I've been… you know… worried."

"If the worry has anything whatsoever to do with my brother's sex life then for the love of God, never tell me," Ginny said, but after a moment of quiet, she spoke seriously. " We haven't… I thought… well, I suppose we'll have time for that after the war – assuming…" She trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence, and Hermione winced.

"Yes… plenty of time," she echoed.

"But…" Ginny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know… if we did die during the war, then– well." She smirked sardonically. "It would be pretty awful to die virgins, wouldn't it?"

Hermione laughed, a high, forced, strained sound. "A little, I suppose. I haven't really thought about it…"

"Haven't you?" Ginny tilted her head. "I have."

Hermione shut her mouth abruptly and regarded the younger girl rather warily. They sat in awkward silence for a moment, while Hermione seemed to be wondering whether Ginny was being serious or not, and Ginny was gathering up all the courage she had.

"Well–" Hermione began, but before she could finish her sentence or even get the next word out, Ginny had risen up onto her knees, leaned forward, and smashed her lips down over Hermione's.


The kiss lasted only a moment – a long, rather impassioned moment, but only a moment nonetheless, and then Ginny pulled back slowly and looked at Hermione, trying to judge her reaction. She – Hermione – looked as though she had just been hit in the face with a textbook – a little dazed, dizzy, and blinking rapidly. A smear of Ginny's lipstick was just below her mouth.

"Sorry," Ginny said quickly. "I didn't mean… er… I didn't mean to surprise you or anything, I just…"

"No…" said Hermione. She reached up absently and touched her lips. "What… Ginny, what was that?"

"A… kiss?"

"But why? I mean, aren't you…" She looked at her warily. "Is something the matter between you and Harry?"

"No!" Ginny insisted. "Not at all! Harry's great. He… well, he's just… you know…"

"No, I don't know."

Ginny struggled to find words. Somehow, everything seemed perfectly clear in her mind, but when she tried to get it into words so that she could relay it to Hermione, it came out in a muddled, confused mess. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. "He's… he's…"


"A boy," Ginny finished at last, rather lamely.

Hermione blinked bemusedly, and then comprehension dawned. "Oh. Well, Ginny, if you're a lesbian, then–"

"But I don't think I am," she protested. "Or, well- I don't know, I still like boys… I just… like girls too… you know? And it's not just that he's a boy, it's that he's…" She shrugged weakly. "He's Harry."

"Well, I don't know what you want me to say to that," Hermione sighed. "If you don't want to sleep with him, and he doesn't want to sleep with you – at least, not right now – then what on Earth is the problem?"

"That… that…" Once again, Ginny found herself lost for words. Everything she could say sounded stupid or soppy or both. If she told Hermione that the problem was that she did want to sleep with Harry – or, moreover, that she wanted to want to sleep with Harry – then she would sound stupid. And if she said that she didn't want to sleep with him because there was somebody that she wanted more…


Ginny took a deep breath, then leaned forward and kissed Hermione again.

She was gentler this time – not as demanding – and while Hermione initially froze up, after a moment, Ginny was quite sure that she could feel her relaxing, and after another minute, she was kissing back.

Ginny's hand moved to Hermione's lower back, pressing her up against her, and Hermione squirmed a little, her legs shifting, open so that Ginny was kneeling in between them, and that was enough to knot something deep inside Ginny's stomach. She pulled back and moved to take off her shirt.

"Let me…" Hermione trailed off, and she leaned down, slowly popping the buttons of Ginny's blouse one by one. Ginny's face flushed with mixed embarrassment and pleasure – Harry had never touched her like this, but she was glad – more glad than she could have said – that Hermione was the first one to do it.

She reached around her back and skilfully popped open the catch of her bra, letting it slide slowly off Ginny's almost flat chest. Freckles dotted her breasts, and Hermione ran her fingers slowly over them as though she were counting.

Ginny's breath caught. It felt good – better, even, than she had anticipated. Hermione's hands were soft and warm and smooth, unlike Harry's rough ones, and they were quite tentative as they ran over Ginny's breasts. Ginny was suddenly very conscious of how roughly she was touching Hermione and made an effort to slow herself down.

Hermione's hand ran slowly down Ginny's stomach, over the curve of her waist, and her lips brushed against hers. Ginny's back arched automatically, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes fell shut – it had never felt this way when Harry had touched her.

"Hermione…" she moaned, grabbing at her knickers and yanking them down, grabbing at Hermione's hand and putting it between her legs.

Hermione's body jerked and she pulled her hand back as though she had suffered an electric shock. "Ginny, what are you- oh God…" She shook her head. "I… I don't…"

"What?" Ginny asked. It was hard to draw breath, and she felt tears of frustration and anticipation quickly welling in her eyes. "What is it, Hermione?"

"I… I can't do this…"

"Ron wouldn't have to know!" Ginny grabbed at her quite desperately. "Please…"

She thought that Hermione was going to stay, she really did. She thought that she would give in to what they both wanted and stay – fall into Ginny's bed, the way Ginny had been dying for Hermione to do since she was fourteen…

"I can't," Hermione whispered, quickly pushing Ginny away, and for a second, Ginny thought she saw sadness – real sadness and regret – flash through Hermione's eyes. Then she turned away quickly and rushed out of the dormitory, leaving Ginny flushed and tearful with her knickers around her ankles.