Last Night;
Title. Last Night
Author. Zee
Pairing. Hermione/Ginny
Rating. PG/PG13?
Word Count. ~920
Summary. This is their last night at the Burrow.
Warnings. Kinda sad, kinda fluff, something in the middle.
Disclaimer. Not mine, no profit, just borrowing for fun and all that shenanigans.
Author Notes. It's been months since I last wrote anything, so I'm definitely considering this something, even if it's unbetaed. It's also a continuation of sorts to a drabble I wrote a year ago :)
This is their last night at the Burrow.
That’s what Hermione thinks when she climbs on Ginny’s bed, careful not to make any noises, after the girl has fallen asleep. She’s been doing it for years now; whenever she’s at the Weasley’s - but she had never been so daring like this (never had the courage).
This is their last day. And tomorrow she’ll be leaving with Harry and Ron to try and make this war end. Her heart feels so tight in her chest, and she can feel the tears starting to form in her eyes - how would she know, 11-year-old Hermione, that at 17 she would be here?
How would she know that those silly boys would become her best friends? How would she know she would fall in love with the sister of one of them at age 12?
She looks down and, from where she is sitting, she has a perfect view of Ginny; her red hair splashed on the pillow, always up, both her hands under it. She can also see the curve of the girl’s long neck, the swell of her small breasts under the old t-shirt she’s wearing.
It’s like her hands have a mind of their own, when they start running through the girl’s hair. The first times are slow, like she could get burned for touching (it’s so, so beautiful); but her years of building confidence show up, and soon she’s playing with the red head’s hair like the girl was awake.
Ginny never wakes up. But she does move.
She turns to the side, one of her arms lifting and locking Hermione into place. She tries to get up and free herself, but Ginny’s too strong (and it’s not like she really wants to). She decides to stay awake - might as well, since this is their last night and Merlin knows when she’s going to see Ginny (this close) again.
Eventually, she slept; one of her arms around the other girl’s lithe body, her head just between Ginny’s neck and shoulder.
Not long after she slept, though, she woke up to someone stirring - someone under her. And as is requested of a sharp minded person like Hermione... she panicked. And when she did manage to free herself from Ginny’s arm, she fell off the bed to the floor - loudly.
“Hermione?” She heard Ginny’s voice (scared, sharp, worried) call.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She repeated more to herself, without looking up to meet the girl’s eyes, “I tripped, I’m fine.”
“Hermione...” This time the voice changed (worried, caring), but wasn’t it her mind playing tricks on her?
Before she could look, and see for herself, they heard a faint knock on the door. Harry’s voice was low and sleepy, saying they would leave in fifteen minutes. Hermione’s voice was faint when she answered she would be there.
“What’s going on? Hermione?”
She didn’t answer (she couldn’t); she just got up from the floor, never looking at Ginny, and started changing her clothes. Everything else was ready, she just needed to change her clothes and leave.
She could hear Ginny’s pleas, to tell her what was going on, where were they going, and weren’t they supposed to go back to Hogwarts? But all of it sounded so distant. And she couldn’t answer, any of it.
She was ready. She took a deep breath and started walking to the door - but this tiny, strong pair of arms held her in place. And even knowing Ginny wouldn’t let her, she tried to move.
“Please don’t leave me in the dark, ‘Mione.”
This voice, she didn’t know it. She tried to breathe, but apparently it wasn’t such an easy task, before turning to look at Ginny - her hands instantly going to the girl’s face, trying to make the tears stop (trying to make it go away).
“I’m sorry.” I love you.
“It’s okay, ‘Mione. It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Gin.” I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I let something bad happen to you.
She didn’t realise she was also crying, at least not until she felt the salty tears in her mouth. Or maybe she didn’t realise until she felt Ginny’s also salty lips on hers. Ginny’s also salty lips on hers. Salty lips. On hers. Ginny’s.
“I love you, too, ‘Mione.”
Ginny’s head was on the crook of her neck, and she felt when the girl breathed in deeply, drinking in her scent. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny tightly, kissing her cheek faintly.
That faint knock on the door again, and Harry was saying it was time to go - they had to leave before anyone woke up. She said she would meet them downstairs and she could hear them, while they tried not to make any noise.
She was looking to the floor now, couldn’t bring herself to look at Ginny. And it was Ginny who held her chin and brought their lips together one more time - hugging Hermione so tight, bringing Hermione so close, deepening the kiss just.
“Thanks for looking out for me at night all these years,” she could hear, could see, the tiny smirk on Ginny’s lips, even if she couldn’t bring herself to look at her, “Now go. They need you.”
She didn’t look at Ginny. She didn’t look back. And when she got downstairs, she was Hermione again - logical, book-smarts Hermione, helping her friends. But now she had this gleam in her eyes - Ginny - now she had something (that was hers) to protect; now she had a reason to live for.
Author. Zee
Pairing. Hermione/Ginny
Rating. PG/PG13?
Word Count. ~920
Summary. This is their last night at the Burrow.
Warnings. Kinda sad, kinda fluff, something in the middle.
Disclaimer. Not mine, no profit, just borrowing for fun and all that shenanigans.
Author Notes. It's been months since I last wrote anything, so I'm definitely considering this something, even if it's unbetaed. It's also a continuation of sorts to a drabble I wrote a year ago :)
This is their last night at the Burrow.
That’s what Hermione thinks when she climbs on Ginny’s bed, careful not to make any noises, after the girl has fallen asleep. She’s been doing it for years now; whenever she’s at the Weasley’s - but she had never been so daring like this (never had the courage).
This is their last day. And tomorrow she’ll be leaving with Harry and Ron to try and make this war end. Her heart feels so tight in her chest, and she can feel the tears starting to form in her eyes - how would she know, 11-year-old Hermione, that at 17 she would be here?
How would she know that those silly boys would become her best friends? How would she know she would fall in love with the sister of one of them at age 12?
She looks down and, from where she is sitting, she has a perfect view of Ginny; her red hair splashed on the pillow, always up, both her hands under it. She can also see the curve of the girl’s long neck, the swell of her small breasts under the old t-shirt she’s wearing.
It’s like her hands have a mind of their own, when they start running through the girl’s hair. The first times are slow, like she could get burned for touching (it’s so, so beautiful); but her years of building confidence show up, and soon she’s playing with the red head’s hair like the girl was awake.
Ginny never wakes up. But she does move.
She turns to the side, one of her arms lifting and locking Hermione into place. She tries to get up and free herself, but Ginny’s too strong (and it’s not like she really wants to). She decides to stay awake - might as well, since this is their last night and Merlin knows when she’s going to see Ginny (this close) again.
Eventually, she slept; one of her arms around the other girl’s lithe body, her head just between Ginny’s neck and shoulder.
Not long after she slept, though, she woke up to someone stirring - someone under her. And as is requested of a sharp minded person like Hermione... she panicked. And when she did manage to free herself from Ginny’s arm, she fell off the bed to the floor - loudly.
“Hermione?” She heard Ginny’s voice (scared, sharp, worried) call.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She repeated more to herself, without looking up to meet the girl’s eyes, “I tripped, I’m fine.”
“Hermione...” This time the voice changed (worried, caring), but wasn’t it her mind playing tricks on her?
Before she could look, and see for herself, they heard a faint knock on the door. Harry’s voice was low and sleepy, saying they would leave in fifteen minutes. Hermione’s voice was faint when she answered she would be there.
“What’s going on? Hermione?”
She didn’t answer (she couldn’t); she just got up from the floor, never looking at Ginny, and started changing her clothes. Everything else was ready, she just needed to change her clothes and leave.
She could hear Ginny’s pleas, to tell her what was going on, where were they going, and weren’t they supposed to go back to Hogwarts? But all of it sounded so distant. And she couldn’t answer, any of it.
She was ready. She took a deep breath and started walking to the door - but this tiny, strong pair of arms held her in place. And even knowing Ginny wouldn’t let her, she tried to move.
“Please don’t leave me in the dark, ‘Mione.”
This voice, she didn’t know it. She tried to breathe, but apparently it wasn’t such an easy task, before turning to look at Ginny - her hands instantly going to the girl’s face, trying to make the tears stop (trying to make it go away).
“I’m sorry.” I love you.
“It’s okay, ‘Mione. It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Gin.” I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I let something bad happen to you.
She didn’t realise she was also crying, at least not until she felt the salty tears in her mouth. Or maybe she didn’t realise until she felt Ginny’s also salty lips on hers. Ginny’s also salty lips on hers. Salty lips. On hers. Ginny’s.
“I love you, too, ‘Mione.”
Ginny’s head was on the crook of her neck, and she felt when the girl breathed in deeply, drinking in her scent. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny tightly, kissing her cheek faintly.
That faint knock on the door again, and Harry was saying it was time to go - they had to leave before anyone woke up. She said she would meet them downstairs and she could hear them, while they tried not to make any noise.
She was looking to the floor now, couldn’t bring herself to look at Ginny. And it was Ginny who held her chin and brought their lips together one more time - hugging Hermione so tight, bringing Hermione so close, deepening the kiss just.
“Thanks for looking out for me at night all these years,” she could hear, could see, the tiny smirk on Ginny’s lips, even if she couldn’t bring herself to look at her, “Now go. They need you.”
She didn’t look at Ginny. She didn’t look back. And when she got downstairs, she was Hermione again - logical, book-smarts Hermione, helping her friends. But now she had this gleam in her eyes - Ginny - now she had something (that was hers) to protect; now she had a reason to live for.