angeleledhwen & mimbulus
Author: angeleledhwen
Title: Triad
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Challenge: This I swear, you're the fiercest calm I've been in - Tori Amos, Concertina
Hermione, at twenty-six, was not what Ginny had expected.
She was her best friend, and more than that, the woman Ginny had been in love with for years, from when she'd still been a girl herself. She was her brother's wife, who her brother had loved from the moment he'd looked at her and seen not the friend he'd known since he was eleven but a young woman. Only one of those loves had lasted, and it wasn't the obvious one.
Hermione, Muggle-born and brought up, had never been willing to accept the customs of her second world without question. Her calm exterior had always hid a ferocity that others underestimated until they ran up against one of
her deepest beliefs. Ron had only ever known one world, he loved his mother, and wanted a wife like her, but not an equal. They had loved each other but they couldn't live together, both wanting different things.
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny caught between them, and it came down to this in the end: standing on the living room carpet, three points of a fragile triangle about to shatter.
Author: mimbulus
Title: Regret
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,858
Hermione, at twenty-six, was not what Ginny had expected.
She was her best friend, and more than that, the woman Ginny had been in love with for years, from when she'd still been a girl herself. She was her brother's wife, who her brother had loved from the moment he'd looked at her and seen not the friend he'd known since he was eleven but a young woman. Only one of those loves had lasted, and it wasn't the obvious one.
Hermione, Muggle-born and brought up, had never been willing to accept the customs of her second world without question. Her calm exterior had always hid a ferocity that others underestimated until they ran up against one of her deepest beliefs. Ron had only ever known one world, he loved his mother, and wanted a wife like her, but not an equal. They had loved each other but they couldn't live together, both wanting different things.
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny caught between them, and it came down to this in the end: standing on the living room carpet, three points of a fragile triangle about to shatter.
*
Ginny truly wished she could’ve blamed it all on some botched-up potion or perhaps the fumes that came out of the potions lab next door to her office. She honestly didn’t know how this whole mess had started.
Two weeks ago Ginny had visited Hermione. Ron was at the Ministry and would be home for supper. Ginny sat on the sofa next to Hermione and they drank tea while Harry played with his toy-wand sitting on the living-room carpet. Colorful bubbles and soft music filled the air when the wand was swished and flicked and Ginny poked the ones that floated near her.
“He managed to upturn the dining-room table the other day,” Hermione sighed. To Ginny, she sounded torn between amusement and indignation. Ginny looked at her. Hermione looked tired, there were dark circles around her eyes and she appeared unhappy. Ginny had already been through the beginning years with one niece and two nephews, so she sympathized with the early bursts of uncontrolled magic that Hermione was going through.
“Well, he is a Weasley, you know,” Ginny smiled. “It’s in his blood, I mean, Fred’s daughter once set their whole house on pink fire.”
Then Hermione put her teacup on the coffee-table next to the empty plates in which she served the pie and her tone became sad and somber, “We fight too much, we simply don’t get along.”
“But you two always argue. You can’t expect to live together and not fight. Look at my mum and my dad. They’re constantly arguing and they’ve been married almost 40 years now.” Ginny didn’t have to ask who “we” referred to. Ron’s and Hermione’s arguments and bickering were legendary at school.
“I know, I’m just tired of it.” Hermione picked Harry up from the floor, wiped the toy-wand clean of drool and carpet fluff, straightened the toddler’s clothes and held him in her arms as he made valiant and futile attempts to reach for his toy-wand. “I can’t be the person that he wants me to be,” she continued, running her free hand through her hair. Ginny wondered how Hermione managed to extricate her fingers from those tangles. She imagined that Hermione must have experience with untangling her own fingers from her hair. After all, she had been living with both for the last 26 years. Shorter hairs spiked up with static electricity as Hermione’s hand moved through her hair.
Ginny remembers that then she took out her wand, aimed it at Harry and gently levitated him. As Harry started hovering midair, Ginny was careful not to let his giggles distract her and cause her to drop him accidentally. Then she lowered him into his playpen, which stood in the far corner of the room. Only when he was about an inch away from the soft mattress did she break the spell and he landed with a soft ‘thump’, still giggling.
Ginny returned her attention to Hermione. “Who does he want you to be?” she asked softly.
Hermione thought for a second and said simply, “His wife.”
Ginny’s eyes turned to the delicate, gold ring on Hermione’s finger but decided against stating the obvious. Hermione noticed what she was staring at and said, “I know I’m married to him. But… he wants me to stay at home. He wants to have enough children to form a Quidditch team, he wants me to cook and iron and mend socks for the lot,” Hermione shook her head and sighed. “He wants me to be like Molly, but as much as I love her, I can’t be like her. I love my job too much to let go of it.”
“You haven’t been working since Harry was born.”
“I know that, I was thinking of getting back to work at the start of the year.”
“And where would Harry be?”
“I know a woman who runs a kindergarten. Actually, it’s the one my parents sent me to when I was Harry’s age.”
“A Muggle kindergarten?”
Hermione nodded. “But Ron wants me to educate Harry at home. I just think that it’s not right for a boy to stay cooped up in the house all day long. It’s important for children to go out and make friends.”
Ginny lowered her gaze and noticed Hermione’s hands resting in her lap. She wore the silver bracelet that Ron had given her for Christmas during their 7th year at Hogwarts. Hermione had said that a charm was incorporated into the small cat-shaped amulet that hung from it, but she never told Ginny what charm it was. Hermione did show the simple “Hermione I love you, Ron” that was engraved on the underside. Ginny also couldn’t help but noticing the bitten fingernails and the red, swollen flesh that surrounded each and every one of those unkempt nails.
Ginny felt her throat constricting. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Hermione.
Ginny supposed that going to the kitchen to make more tea after the sudden hug would have made sense, but she didn’t want to let go. Embracing Hermione felt like heaven. Hermione was warm, the place where Hermione’s shoulder met her neck perfect to nuzzle in, her heavy, soft, round breasts a scorching heat against Ginny’s collarbone.
“So soft,” she sighed.
From there it was only logical to tangle her hands in Hermione’s hair and try to see if she could ever manage to extricate her fingers from those incorrigible knots.
“Your hair smells so good. I remember every time you got out of the showers at Hogwarts, there was this smell of flowers in the air. I don’t know what hair potion you used, but it smelled fantastic.”
“Muggle shampoo,” came the quiet reply.
Ginny noticed that Hermione was just sitting there, unmoving, so it made sense to Ginny to rub her hands against Hermione’s back in slow circles and just breathe in and out slowly. Hermione slowly relaxed against her and returned the embrace. They sat like that for a while, not moving. Ginny wrapped her arms tighter when she felt Hermione shiver. She drew away from the embrace and looked at Hermione. Tears trickled slowly down Hermione’s beautiful face, capturing the light that filtered through the shutters.
Ginny didn’t quite know what to say. So instead, she cupped Hermione’s face in her hands and drew her slowly near, until their lips almost touched. Ginny could feel Hermione’s ragged breath warming her skin. But Hermione was the one who closed that last distance.
Hermione’s mouth and lips tasted of tea and the banana-and-cinnamon pie that they ate earlier, courtesy of the bakery down the street. Her mouth was hot and perfect. Ginny wanted to never have to stop kissing Hermione. She climbed onto Hermione’s lap, pinning her down against the sofa, never once breaking the kiss. Ginny’s hands had moved of their own accord to Hermione’s hair, combing her fingers through it. Then Ginny removed her left hand from Hermione’s hair and lowered it down to her collarbone, caressing it through Hermione’s blouse with just the tip of her fingers.
Ginny wanted to touch more of Hermione but she didn’t want to extricate her other hand from the soft tangles of Hermione’s hair, so she proceeded to open the buttons on Hermione’s shirt with one hand. Suddenly she felt Hermione fumble around the sofa for something. Then she felt the tip of Hermione’s wand clashing against her fingers. But for that they needed to break the kiss and Ginny really didn’t want to do that, so she took the wand from Hermione and tucked it safely away, already missing the contact between her hands and Hermione’s body.
Ginny resumed her work on Hermione’s buttons, still only using one hand. The other one was occupied in gently caressing Hermione’s breast, rubbing her nipple with just the tip of the thumb, till it hardened. Finally Hermione’s blouse fell open and with a soft moan, Ginny broke the kiss and helped Hermione remove her blouse and bra, dropping them to the floor.
A sudden gurgle from the corner made Ginny freeze when she was just about to latch her mouth onto Hermione’s soft skin. Hermione straightened and caused Ginny to sit back on the sofa.
“We forgot about Harry,” Ginny said.
“I’d better go tuck him in.”
Hermione picked up her blouse from the floor. She put it on, not bothering with the buttons, passed her hands through her hair in a useless attempt to smooth it back. Then she dug her wand out from the sofa and went to Harry’s playpen. Hermione picked him up and looked at Ginny with a dazed sort of look in her eyes. For one horrible moment Ginny thought that this was the end of it. Now, Hermione would pick up her bra from the carpet, go to the bedroom and return a few minutes later looking as impeccable as she always did. Then Ron would floo in, and they would never have this (whatever this was) again.
Hermione lifted Harry and went with him into his room. She emerged from the room a moment later, closed the door and cast a spell on the room. Ginny couldn’t make out what spell it was. The door glowed faintly lilac for a second before returning to its usual appearance. Then Hermione went further down the hall, into hers and Ron’s room.
“What’s that spell?”
“It’s a silencing spell,” Hermione answered, “but we’ll still be able to hear if something happens.”
Ginny found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Hermione. She stood in the hallway, completely naked. Ginny was on her feet, moving towards Hermione and removing her own clothes before she completely realized what she was doing. A few paces and she stood mere inches away from Hermione. The faint freckles that dusted Hermione’s shoulders mesmerized Ginny. She leaned in to kiss the skin there and moved on to kiss Hermione’s neck, nuzzling her ear.
“So beautiful,” she murmured against Hermione’s skin.
Hermione sighed, clutched Ginny by her shoulders, bitten nails digging into Ginny’s skin, and fell back against the wall. Ginny resented the sudden separation from Hermione’s skin and when Ginny landed on Hermione with a soft ‘oomph’, she immediately latched onto Hermione’s mouth. Ginny’s hands now roamed freely over Hermione’s body, touching and caressing, her fingernails scraping gently over soft stretches of smooth, pale skin.
Hermione’s knees gave out suddenly and she slid down the wall, taking Ginny with her. The floor was cold against Ginny’s skin, but she didn’t care. Hermione’s skin was flushed and burning and Ginny needed that heat.
Ginny licked, kissed and nibbled a trail from Hermione’s breasts, stopping to dip her tongue into Hermione’s bellybutton, down to her thighs, feeling Hermione’s fingers comb through her hair distractedly and hearing her moan and sigh endlessly.
She was just about to plant her first kiss on the back of Hermione’s right knee when she heard a “whoosh” sound, a loud crash and a shocked, whispered “Oh my god!” from somewhere behind and above her. Ron just Flooed in.
Hermione froze and looked up. Her eyes were wide and she flushed even deeper, her skin turning as red as the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s uniform. Ginny scrambled to a sitting position awkwardly, feeling Ron’s eyes burning a hole through the back of her neck. She went to the living-room to get dressed, picking up her clothes on the way. She decided not to bother with her underclothes and just floo directly back home.
Ginny stood up and went to the fire-place. After three paces, she stopped. She couldn’t leave it like this and if she went, she knew it would be a very long time before she’d be able to talk to either of them again.
Meanwhile, Hermione got herself shakily to her feet. Ron just stood there, looking very flushed, very shocked and very, very angry. It appeared to Ginny that he wasn’t even breathing.
At long last he took a deep breath and told Hermione in a silent, commanding voice to get dressed. Looking at Ginny with too-wide eyes, Hermione padded to their bedroom. As soon as the door closed, Ron turned around and looked directly into Ginny’s eyes.
“How could you?” He whispered.
Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it again not having the faintest idea of what to say to him. ‘It seemed the perfect thing to do,’ slipped through her mind, followed by ‘I’ve wanted this for so long. When the opportunity came, I took advantage of it.’
She stood in front of Ron for what seemed like hours, shuffling her feet. In reality, less than a minute passed by before Hermione emerged from the bedroom wearing a loose robe tied at the waist. When Ron saw her, he went to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink and together with the shot-glass and the bottle, he entered the living-room. Ginny chose discretion once more and decided not to tell him exactly what had happened on the sofa he sat on, only a few minutes ago.
She watched Ron gulp his drink down and grimace as the Firewhisky burned its way down his throat. He poured himself another drink, gulped that down as well and grimaced again. Then he set the glass down on the floor and started pacing the carpet. Hermione went past Ginny, also to the living-room and sat down in the armchair. Neither of them looked at or talked to Ginny.
“I could understand it if you were bored, Hermione, but why Ginny?” Ron raked his hand through his already disheveled hair and resumed his pacing.
“Oh, but I thought men liked seeing two women going at it together,” Hermione answered sardonically. Ginny saw the tips of Ron’s ears turn a bright shade of red and it was all she could do to stop herself from laughing out loud, despite the situation.
Ron looked appalled. “Oh, bloody hell, Hermione!” He buried his face in his hands, slumping back to the sofa and muttering a weak “I need another drink,” which was muffled by the sleeves of his shirt.
Ginny decided that she didn’t want to be part of this conversation, so she said, “Maybe I should take Harry to the park for a bit.”
Both of them looked up at her as if they had forgotten she was still there (which they probably had) and said “No!” at the same time.
“Ginny, please stay.”
“Yes, Ginny. Please stay,” Ron repeated his wife’s words with a slight hint of sarcasm, while picking up his glass from the floor and sloshing more liquor into it. “And do come and sit with us.”
Ginny really wanted to get away. Ron sometimes got nasty when he was drunk. On the other hand, she didn’t want to leave Hermione to face him on her own. Reluctantly, Ginny sat on the foot-stool that was still there from Hermione’s pregnancy days.
Ron looked at her and said, already slurring his speech, “Y’know, when Hermione was pregnant, the doctor said that she should rest with her feet up as much as possible. So we went and bought that thing. Her pregnancy wasn’t an easy one, at one point we thought that we’d lost the baby.”
Ginny and Hermione exchanged a meaningful, worried look. It was the first time they had looked at each other since Ron Flooed in. They both knew that Ron was getting too drunk - he was starting to babble.
He gulped down the drink from the glass and put his glass on the floor again. He was about to get up, but then he accidentally knocked the glass over and it smashed into little pieces all over the floor. He grabbed the bottle by its neck and drank some more.
“I see that you conveniently got Harry out of the way.” It took a while for Ginny to understand what he was saying, he was slurring so badly.
“He was tired so we tucked him in.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to Herm-Hermoi- my wife,” Ron replied, gesturing at Ginny with the bottle, sloshing its contents all over himself. It was only a third full now. Ginny had noticed that when Ron took it out of the cabinet earlier, it was 3/4 full. Ron wasn’t paying attention to the bottle, however. He was still glaring angrily at Ginny, as if she was the root of all his problems.
“He was nodding off on Ginny’s lap, Ron.”
He glanced in the direction of Harry’s room. “Nice of you to cast that particular silencing charm,” Ron commented with that not-quite smirk that he had. Ginny thought that it looked rather pathetic now, due to Ron’s drunkenness.
“So you would’ve preferred waking him up as you got home?”
“I wouldn’t have a reason to yell if this hadn’t happened,” he barked, slamming the cup on the table and cracking it. The two women flinched. Ginny wondered what the hell he meant by that.
“I wasn’t talking about yelling, I was talking about the usual noises one makes when Flooing-in,” Hermione said in an unnaturally calm voice, gathering herself. Her lips were thin and her nostrils were flaring. Suddenly, she reminded Ginny of Professor McGonagall.
“Besides, this is the only time you’ve yelled so far,” Ginny pointed out and the two of them glared at her. She wished she had stayed quiet.
“You were just sitting here,” he went on as if neither of the women had talked. “Sitting… here. You… and Ginny. I never… my own sister, and you -”
“You’re drunk.” Hermione glared at him, her arms folded in front of her. “And pathetic!” she added. The only time that Ginny had seen Ron drunk was after the leaving feast of her 6th year. He and Harry had smuggled in a few bottles of Firewhisky and they, together with Dean, Neville and Seamus spent the night getting progressively drunker. The next morning, Hermione expressly forbid her on casting a sobering charm on any of them. Ron and Harry spent the train ride to London clutching their heads in pain. Hermione only relieved them of their misery about half an hour before they reached King’s Cross Station.
But now, she held her wand in front of her and cast what Ginny knew to be a particularly vicious sobering charm on Ron. Not only had it left him sober, but also looking more than a bit green and shivering.
Hermione exclaimed “There!” in a satisfied sort of voice, and Ginny heard Ron moaning - apparently, that sobering charm left one with a splitting headache.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” and he was. Hermione looked quite disgusted. Ginny felt the same way.
Ginny didn’t know who she should feel sorrier for.
“Here, let me take this,” she said and took the bottle from Ron’s hand, putting the cork back on it and returned it to the cabinet. When she turned back, Ron was standing in front of the sofa wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking faintly greenish. Hermione was standing with her back to him.
The charm that Hermione had cast was a nasty one, but it affected the target much more quickly than the more benign ones that people usually use. Ron was already looking a shade less green than he had a few moments ago.
Ginny watched as he wrinkled his nose, pointed his wand at the mess in front of him and said, ‘Scourgify’ with a raspy voice. The carpet was clean again.
Hermione turned around, and Ginny saw the worried expression that she had. It turned almost instantly to one of rage when Ron started talking. “Y’know, I only married you because no one else would want an insufferable know-it-all like you with them,” he snorted. “But apparently I was wrong! And another thing, I always thought that you would make a good mother, that it would be wonderful having kids with you, but apparently I was wrong again. You’re horrible, might as well leave the boy at Malfoy’s doorstep!”
Now Ginny thought that he had gone too far. Hermione apparently thought so too, because in two strides she was in front of him, slapping him hard across the face, speechless and trembling with rage.
“Get out of my house.”
“No, darling, you get out. I bought us this house. You should leave too, y’know,” Ron said, turning to Ginny. “The show is over!” he declared, sweeping the room with his arms. “Though maybe I should let you two some time alone so you can finish what you started.”
Hermione vanished into the bedroom for a second time. From within it, Ginny could hear closet doors opening and closing, cloth rustling and moving about and a zipper being closed.
The noises ceased and she walked out, with her handbag and her suitcase clutched in one hand. Ginny watched as she threw open the door to Harry’s room, grabbed the boy, his blanket wrapped around him and his teddy bear and walked out.
“Fine,” she said, looking furious. She was flushed, and there were tears welling in her eyes.
Ron seemed to wake up all of a sudden. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet,” Hermione answered briskly and in an instant was out of the door. She didn’t bother closing it, so Ginny had a clear view of the Knight Bus as it hurtled down the street to where Hermione was standing with little Harry perched on her hip.
Ginny looked at Ron once more. She didn’t know what to say. She felt guilty and angry with herself, but she was also angry with Ron. She felt a headache coming along and she wanted to go home and lay down for a bit, though she doubted she could sleep much.
“I guess I’d better be going too.”
Ron grunted, turned around and stomped into his bedroom, banging the door close behind him.
Ginny grabbed a handful of Floo powder, said “Ginny’s flat” and just as she was going away, she saw Ron grabbing the cup from the table and flinging it at the wall as hard as he could. She was gone before she could hear the glass smash.
And now, two weeks later, she was sitting on her own dilapidated sofa, clutching a cup of tea that was getting progressively colder. She hadn’t talked to either Ron or Hermione for all this time. She was worried. Ginny wanted to go back to the Burrow, as they always did when something bad happened, but she was afraid of running into Ron there. Besides, what would she say to her mother? Arthur would hug her and say that it was all for the best or something comforting like that, but Molly would be beside herself with rage. First at Hermione for doing this to Ron and then at Ginny for being intimate with a woman.
Ginny supposed that she could go look for Hermione at the Grangers’, but Ginny didn’t want to face them either if Hermione wasn’t there.
Ginny sat in her flat, drinking cold tea, wishing none of this had ever happened.
~Fin~
Title: Triad
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Challenge: This I swear, you're the fiercest calm I've been in - Tori Amos, Concertina
Hermione, at twenty-six, was not what Ginny had expected.
She was her best friend, and more than that, the woman Ginny had been in love with for years, from when she'd still been a girl herself. She was her brother's wife, who her brother had loved from the moment he'd looked at her and seen not the friend he'd known since he was eleven but a young woman. Only one of those loves had lasted, and it wasn't the obvious one.
Hermione, Muggle-born and brought up, had never been willing to accept the customs of her second world without question. Her calm exterior had always hid a ferocity that others underestimated until they ran up against one of
her deepest beliefs. Ron had only ever known one world, he loved his mother, and wanted a wife like her, but not an equal. They had loved each other but they couldn't live together, both wanting different things.
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny caught between them, and it came down to this in the end: standing on the living room carpet, three points of a fragile triangle about to shatter.
Author: mimbulus
Title: Regret
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,858
Hermione, at twenty-six, was not what Ginny had expected.
She was her best friend, and more than that, the woman Ginny had been in love with for years, from when she'd still been a girl herself. She was her brother's wife, who her brother had loved from the moment he'd looked at her and seen not the friend he'd known since he was eleven but a young woman. Only one of those loves had lasted, and it wasn't the obvious one.
Hermione, Muggle-born and brought up, had never been willing to accept the customs of her second world without question. Her calm exterior had always hid a ferocity that others underestimated until they ran up against one of her deepest beliefs. Ron had only ever known one world, he loved his mother, and wanted a wife like her, but not an equal. They had loved each other but they couldn't live together, both wanting different things.
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny caught between them, and it came down to this in the end: standing on the living room carpet, three points of a fragile triangle about to shatter.
*
Ginny truly wished she could’ve blamed it all on some botched-up potion or perhaps the fumes that came out of the potions lab next door to her office. She honestly didn’t know how this whole mess had started.
Two weeks ago Ginny had visited Hermione. Ron was at the Ministry and would be home for supper. Ginny sat on the sofa next to Hermione and they drank tea while Harry played with his toy-wand sitting on the living-room carpet. Colorful bubbles and soft music filled the air when the wand was swished and flicked and Ginny poked the ones that floated near her.
“He managed to upturn the dining-room table the other day,” Hermione sighed. To Ginny, she sounded torn between amusement and indignation. Ginny looked at her. Hermione looked tired, there were dark circles around her eyes and she appeared unhappy. Ginny had already been through the beginning years with one niece and two nephews, so she sympathized with the early bursts of uncontrolled magic that Hermione was going through.
“Well, he is a Weasley, you know,” Ginny smiled. “It’s in his blood, I mean, Fred’s daughter once set their whole house on pink fire.”
Then Hermione put her teacup on the coffee-table next to the empty plates in which she served the pie and her tone became sad and somber, “We fight too much, we simply don’t get along.”
“But you two always argue. You can’t expect to live together and not fight. Look at my mum and my dad. They’re constantly arguing and they’ve been married almost 40 years now.” Ginny didn’t have to ask who “we” referred to. Ron’s and Hermione’s arguments and bickering were legendary at school.
“I know, I’m just tired of it.” Hermione picked Harry up from the floor, wiped the toy-wand clean of drool and carpet fluff, straightened the toddler’s clothes and held him in her arms as he made valiant and futile attempts to reach for his toy-wand. “I can’t be the person that he wants me to be,” she continued, running her free hand through her hair. Ginny wondered how Hermione managed to extricate her fingers from those tangles. She imagined that Hermione must have experience with untangling her own fingers from her hair. After all, she had been living with both for the last 26 years. Shorter hairs spiked up with static electricity as Hermione’s hand moved through her hair.
Ginny remembers that then she took out her wand, aimed it at Harry and gently levitated him. As Harry started hovering midair, Ginny was careful not to let his giggles distract her and cause her to drop him accidentally. Then she lowered him into his playpen, which stood in the far corner of the room. Only when he was about an inch away from the soft mattress did she break the spell and he landed with a soft ‘thump’, still giggling.
Ginny returned her attention to Hermione. “Who does he want you to be?” she asked softly.
Hermione thought for a second and said simply, “His wife.”
Ginny’s eyes turned to the delicate, gold ring on Hermione’s finger but decided against stating the obvious. Hermione noticed what she was staring at and said, “I know I’m married to him. But… he wants me to stay at home. He wants to have enough children to form a Quidditch team, he wants me to cook and iron and mend socks for the lot,” Hermione shook her head and sighed. “He wants me to be like Molly, but as much as I love her, I can’t be like her. I love my job too much to let go of it.”
“You haven’t been working since Harry was born.”
“I know that, I was thinking of getting back to work at the start of the year.”
“And where would Harry be?”
“I know a woman who runs a kindergarten. Actually, it’s the one my parents sent me to when I was Harry’s age.”
“A Muggle kindergarten?”
Hermione nodded. “But Ron wants me to educate Harry at home. I just think that it’s not right for a boy to stay cooped up in the house all day long. It’s important for children to go out and make friends.”
Ginny lowered her gaze and noticed Hermione’s hands resting in her lap. She wore the silver bracelet that Ron had given her for Christmas during their 7th year at Hogwarts. Hermione had said that a charm was incorporated into the small cat-shaped amulet that hung from it, but she never told Ginny what charm it was. Hermione did show the simple “Hermione I love you, Ron” that was engraved on the underside. Ginny also couldn’t help but noticing the bitten fingernails and the red, swollen flesh that surrounded each and every one of those unkempt nails.
Ginny felt her throat constricting. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Hermione.
Ginny supposed that going to the kitchen to make more tea after the sudden hug would have made sense, but she didn’t want to let go. Embracing Hermione felt like heaven. Hermione was warm, the place where Hermione’s shoulder met her neck perfect to nuzzle in, her heavy, soft, round breasts a scorching heat against Ginny’s collarbone.
“So soft,” she sighed.
From there it was only logical to tangle her hands in Hermione’s hair and try to see if she could ever manage to extricate her fingers from those incorrigible knots.
“Your hair smells so good. I remember every time you got out of the showers at Hogwarts, there was this smell of flowers in the air. I don’t know what hair potion you used, but it smelled fantastic.”
“Muggle shampoo,” came the quiet reply.
Ginny noticed that Hermione was just sitting there, unmoving, so it made sense to Ginny to rub her hands against Hermione’s back in slow circles and just breathe in and out slowly. Hermione slowly relaxed against her and returned the embrace. They sat like that for a while, not moving. Ginny wrapped her arms tighter when she felt Hermione shiver. She drew away from the embrace and looked at Hermione. Tears trickled slowly down Hermione’s beautiful face, capturing the light that filtered through the shutters.
Ginny didn’t quite know what to say. So instead, she cupped Hermione’s face in her hands and drew her slowly near, until their lips almost touched. Ginny could feel Hermione’s ragged breath warming her skin. But Hermione was the one who closed that last distance.
Hermione’s mouth and lips tasted of tea and the banana-and-cinnamon pie that they ate earlier, courtesy of the bakery down the street. Her mouth was hot and perfect. Ginny wanted to never have to stop kissing Hermione. She climbed onto Hermione’s lap, pinning her down against the sofa, never once breaking the kiss. Ginny’s hands had moved of their own accord to Hermione’s hair, combing her fingers through it. Then Ginny removed her left hand from Hermione’s hair and lowered it down to her collarbone, caressing it through Hermione’s blouse with just the tip of her fingers.
Ginny wanted to touch more of Hermione but she didn’t want to extricate her other hand from the soft tangles of Hermione’s hair, so she proceeded to open the buttons on Hermione’s shirt with one hand. Suddenly she felt Hermione fumble around the sofa for something. Then she felt the tip of Hermione’s wand clashing against her fingers. But for that they needed to break the kiss and Ginny really didn’t want to do that, so she took the wand from Hermione and tucked it safely away, already missing the contact between her hands and Hermione’s body.
Ginny resumed her work on Hermione’s buttons, still only using one hand. The other one was occupied in gently caressing Hermione’s breast, rubbing her nipple with just the tip of the thumb, till it hardened. Finally Hermione’s blouse fell open and with a soft moan, Ginny broke the kiss and helped Hermione remove her blouse and bra, dropping them to the floor.
A sudden gurgle from the corner made Ginny freeze when she was just about to latch her mouth onto Hermione’s soft skin. Hermione straightened and caused Ginny to sit back on the sofa.
“We forgot about Harry,” Ginny said.
“I’d better go tuck him in.”
Hermione picked up her blouse from the floor. She put it on, not bothering with the buttons, passed her hands through her hair in a useless attempt to smooth it back. Then she dug her wand out from the sofa and went to Harry’s playpen. Hermione picked him up and looked at Ginny with a dazed sort of look in her eyes. For one horrible moment Ginny thought that this was the end of it. Now, Hermione would pick up her bra from the carpet, go to the bedroom and return a few minutes later looking as impeccable as she always did. Then Ron would floo in, and they would never have this (whatever this was) again.
Hermione lifted Harry and went with him into his room. She emerged from the room a moment later, closed the door and cast a spell on the room. Ginny couldn’t make out what spell it was. The door glowed faintly lilac for a second before returning to its usual appearance. Then Hermione went further down the hall, into hers and Ron’s room.
“What’s that spell?”
“It’s a silencing spell,” Hermione answered, “but we’ll still be able to hear if something happens.”
Ginny found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Hermione. She stood in the hallway, completely naked. Ginny was on her feet, moving towards Hermione and removing her own clothes before she completely realized what she was doing. A few paces and she stood mere inches away from Hermione. The faint freckles that dusted Hermione’s shoulders mesmerized Ginny. She leaned in to kiss the skin there and moved on to kiss Hermione’s neck, nuzzling her ear.
“So beautiful,” she murmured against Hermione’s skin.
Hermione sighed, clutched Ginny by her shoulders, bitten nails digging into Ginny’s skin, and fell back against the wall. Ginny resented the sudden separation from Hermione’s skin and when Ginny landed on Hermione with a soft ‘oomph’, she immediately latched onto Hermione’s mouth. Ginny’s hands now roamed freely over Hermione’s body, touching and caressing, her fingernails scraping gently over soft stretches of smooth, pale skin.
Hermione’s knees gave out suddenly and she slid down the wall, taking Ginny with her. The floor was cold against Ginny’s skin, but she didn’t care. Hermione’s skin was flushed and burning and Ginny needed that heat.
Ginny licked, kissed and nibbled a trail from Hermione’s breasts, stopping to dip her tongue into Hermione’s bellybutton, down to her thighs, feeling Hermione’s fingers comb through her hair distractedly and hearing her moan and sigh endlessly.
She was just about to plant her first kiss on the back of Hermione’s right knee when she heard a “whoosh” sound, a loud crash and a shocked, whispered “Oh my god!” from somewhere behind and above her. Ron just Flooed in.
Hermione froze and looked up. Her eyes were wide and she flushed even deeper, her skin turning as red as the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s uniform. Ginny scrambled to a sitting position awkwardly, feeling Ron’s eyes burning a hole through the back of her neck. She went to the living-room to get dressed, picking up her clothes on the way. She decided not to bother with her underclothes and just floo directly back home.
Ginny stood up and went to the fire-place. After three paces, she stopped. She couldn’t leave it like this and if she went, she knew it would be a very long time before she’d be able to talk to either of them again.
Meanwhile, Hermione got herself shakily to her feet. Ron just stood there, looking very flushed, very shocked and very, very angry. It appeared to Ginny that he wasn’t even breathing.
At long last he took a deep breath and told Hermione in a silent, commanding voice to get dressed. Looking at Ginny with too-wide eyes, Hermione padded to their bedroom. As soon as the door closed, Ron turned around and looked directly into Ginny’s eyes.
“How could you?” He whispered.
Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it again not having the faintest idea of what to say to him. ‘It seemed the perfect thing to do,’ slipped through her mind, followed by ‘I’ve wanted this for so long. When the opportunity came, I took advantage of it.’
She stood in front of Ron for what seemed like hours, shuffling her feet. In reality, less than a minute passed by before Hermione emerged from the bedroom wearing a loose robe tied at the waist. When Ron saw her, he went to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink and together with the shot-glass and the bottle, he entered the living-room. Ginny chose discretion once more and decided not to tell him exactly what had happened on the sofa he sat on, only a few minutes ago.
She watched Ron gulp his drink down and grimace as the Firewhisky burned its way down his throat. He poured himself another drink, gulped that down as well and grimaced again. Then he set the glass down on the floor and started pacing the carpet. Hermione went past Ginny, also to the living-room and sat down in the armchair. Neither of them looked at or talked to Ginny.
“I could understand it if you were bored, Hermione, but why Ginny?” Ron raked his hand through his already disheveled hair and resumed his pacing.
“Oh, but I thought men liked seeing two women going at it together,” Hermione answered sardonically. Ginny saw the tips of Ron’s ears turn a bright shade of red and it was all she could do to stop herself from laughing out loud, despite the situation.
Ron looked appalled. “Oh, bloody hell, Hermione!” He buried his face in his hands, slumping back to the sofa and muttering a weak “I need another drink,” which was muffled by the sleeves of his shirt.
Ginny decided that she didn’t want to be part of this conversation, so she said, “Maybe I should take Harry to the park for a bit.”
Both of them looked up at her as if they had forgotten she was still there (which they probably had) and said “No!” at the same time.
“Ginny, please stay.”
“Yes, Ginny. Please stay,” Ron repeated his wife’s words with a slight hint of sarcasm, while picking up his glass from the floor and sloshing more liquor into it. “And do come and sit with us.”
Ginny really wanted to get away. Ron sometimes got nasty when he was drunk. On the other hand, she didn’t want to leave Hermione to face him on her own. Reluctantly, Ginny sat on the foot-stool that was still there from Hermione’s pregnancy days.
Ron looked at her and said, already slurring his speech, “Y’know, when Hermione was pregnant, the doctor said that she should rest with her feet up as much as possible. So we went and bought that thing. Her pregnancy wasn’t an easy one, at one point we thought that we’d lost the baby.”
Ginny and Hermione exchanged a meaningful, worried look. It was the first time they had looked at each other since Ron Flooed in. They both knew that Ron was getting too drunk - he was starting to babble.
He gulped down the drink from the glass and put his glass on the floor again. He was about to get up, but then he accidentally knocked the glass over and it smashed into little pieces all over the floor. He grabbed the bottle by its neck and drank some more.
“I see that you conveniently got Harry out of the way.” It took a while for Ginny to understand what he was saying, he was slurring so badly.
“He was tired so we tucked him in.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to Herm-Hermoi- my wife,” Ron replied, gesturing at Ginny with the bottle, sloshing its contents all over himself. It was only a third full now. Ginny had noticed that when Ron took it out of the cabinet earlier, it was 3/4 full. Ron wasn’t paying attention to the bottle, however. He was still glaring angrily at Ginny, as if she was the root of all his problems.
“He was nodding off on Ginny’s lap, Ron.”
He glanced in the direction of Harry’s room. “Nice of you to cast that particular silencing charm,” Ron commented with that not-quite smirk that he had. Ginny thought that it looked rather pathetic now, due to Ron’s drunkenness.
“So you would’ve preferred waking him up as you got home?”
“I wouldn’t have a reason to yell if this hadn’t happened,” he barked, slamming the cup on the table and cracking it. The two women flinched. Ginny wondered what the hell he meant by that.
“I wasn’t talking about yelling, I was talking about the usual noises one makes when Flooing-in,” Hermione said in an unnaturally calm voice, gathering herself. Her lips were thin and her nostrils were flaring. Suddenly, she reminded Ginny of Professor McGonagall.
“Besides, this is the only time you’ve yelled so far,” Ginny pointed out and the two of them glared at her. She wished she had stayed quiet.
“You were just sitting here,” he went on as if neither of the women had talked. “Sitting… here. You… and Ginny. I never… my own sister, and you -”
“You’re drunk.” Hermione glared at him, her arms folded in front of her. “And pathetic!” she added. The only time that Ginny had seen Ron drunk was after the leaving feast of her 6th year. He and Harry had smuggled in a few bottles of Firewhisky and they, together with Dean, Neville and Seamus spent the night getting progressively drunker. The next morning, Hermione expressly forbid her on casting a sobering charm on any of them. Ron and Harry spent the train ride to London clutching their heads in pain. Hermione only relieved them of their misery about half an hour before they reached King’s Cross Station.
But now, she held her wand in front of her and cast what Ginny knew to be a particularly vicious sobering charm on Ron. Not only had it left him sober, but also looking more than a bit green and shivering.
Hermione exclaimed “There!” in a satisfied sort of voice, and Ginny heard Ron moaning - apparently, that sobering charm left one with a splitting headache.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” and he was. Hermione looked quite disgusted. Ginny felt the same way.
Ginny didn’t know who she should feel sorrier for.
“Here, let me take this,” she said and took the bottle from Ron’s hand, putting the cork back on it and returned it to the cabinet. When she turned back, Ron was standing in front of the sofa wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking faintly greenish. Hermione was standing with her back to him.
The charm that Hermione had cast was a nasty one, but it affected the target much more quickly than the more benign ones that people usually use. Ron was already looking a shade less green than he had a few moments ago.
Ginny watched as he wrinkled his nose, pointed his wand at the mess in front of him and said, ‘Scourgify’ with a raspy voice. The carpet was clean again.
Hermione turned around, and Ginny saw the worried expression that she had. It turned almost instantly to one of rage when Ron started talking. “Y’know, I only married you because no one else would want an insufferable know-it-all like you with them,” he snorted. “But apparently I was wrong! And another thing, I always thought that you would make a good mother, that it would be wonderful having kids with you, but apparently I was wrong again. You’re horrible, might as well leave the boy at Malfoy’s doorstep!”
Now Ginny thought that he had gone too far. Hermione apparently thought so too, because in two strides she was in front of him, slapping him hard across the face, speechless and trembling with rage.
“Get out of my house.”
“No, darling, you get out. I bought us this house. You should leave too, y’know,” Ron said, turning to Ginny. “The show is over!” he declared, sweeping the room with his arms. “Though maybe I should let you two some time alone so you can finish what you started.”
Hermione vanished into the bedroom for a second time. From within it, Ginny could hear closet doors opening and closing, cloth rustling and moving about and a zipper being closed.
The noises ceased and she walked out, with her handbag and her suitcase clutched in one hand. Ginny watched as she threw open the door to Harry’s room, grabbed the boy, his blanket wrapped around him and his teddy bear and walked out.
“Fine,” she said, looking furious. She was flushed, and there were tears welling in her eyes.
Ron seemed to wake up all of a sudden. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet,” Hermione answered briskly and in an instant was out of the door. She didn’t bother closing it, so Ginny had a clear view of the Knight Bus as it hurtled down the street to where Hermione was standing with little Harry perched on her hip.
Ginny looked at Ron once more. She didn’t know what to say. She felt guilty and angry with herself, but she was also angry with Ron. She felt a headache coming along and she wanted to go home and lay down for a bit, though she doubted she could sleep much.
“I guess I’d better be going too.”
Ron grunted, turned around and stomped into his bedroom, banging the door close behind him.
Ginny grabbed a handful of Floo powder, said “Ginny’s flat” and just as she was going away, she saw Ron grabbing the cup from the table and flinging it at the wall as hard as he could. She was gone before she could hear the glass smash.
And now, two weeks later, she was sitting on her own dilapidated sofa, clutching a cup of tea that was getting progressively colder. She hadn’t talked to either Ron or Hermione for all this time. She was worried. Ginny wanted to go back to the Burrow, as they always did when something bad happened, but she was afraid of running into Ron there. Besides, what would she say to her mother? Arthur would hug her and say that it was all for the best or something comforting like that, but Molly would be beside herself with rage. First at Hermione for doing this to Ron and then at Ginny for being intimate with a woman.
Ginny supposed that she could go look for Hermione at the Grangers’, but Ginny didn’t want to face them either if Hermione wasn’t there.
Ginny sat in her flat, drinking cold tea, wishing none of this had ever happened.
~Fin~