J.K Rowling owns all things Potter, I'm just meddling my unworthy hands in her greatness
It's during start of the sixth year when Hermione first sees Ginny Weasley naked. It wasn't for very long, and she totally didn't mean to – things just sort of ... happened from there.
It was in the Burrow during the dying days of the summer holidays. Hermione was there having been invited by Ron several days ago. Harry had yet to arrive and wasn't due for at least another week, or so according to Dumbledore. The headmaster had dropped by briefly to say that Harry ought to be arriving soon after he and Dumbledore had taken care of some business. They didn't get much more explanation than that before the headmaster had given a cheery wave and dissaparated with a pop in the back yard.
Hermione blinked away the sleep from her eyes as she woke up on her camp bed in the room that she was sharing with the youngest Weasley. Early morning sunshine filtered through the window, thrown wide open to let in the cool morning breeze. From her vantage point, she could see the entire back yard and the fields that stretched beyond it. Already, she could see a small squad of gnomes attempting to sneak back into the yard, the little potato headed creatures commando rolling through the hedge and creeping back into their holes. They weren't what you would call cute exactly, Hermione decided, but nor were they necessarily hideously ugly. After a moment's thought, she settled on strange – but in a quirky, semi-adorable kind of way.
Yawning she threw back the covers and sat up, yelping slightly as the cold floor touched her bare feet. She fumbled around the bottom of the bed, eventually finding her slippers before getting up and stretching her arms. She winced as several muscles in her back protested. The novelty of sleeping in camp beds had worn off pretty quickly.
After quickly glancing around the violently pink room, Hermione concluded that she was alone. Ginny must have already gone to take a shower. To confirm her theory, she could faintly hear the water running a couple of floors down. Shrugging, the brunette witch decided to sit and wait for Ginny to finish before taking a shower herself. In the process of grabbing her towel and bathrobe from the bedside table, Hermione accidentally knocked her bag onto the floor, spilling the contents everywhere.
Cursing, she dropped onto her knees and began to pick up clothes, books and toiletries scattered on the carpet. With a sigh, she realised that a couple of novels had managed to slide under Ginny's bed. She hesitated for a second before lying flat on her stomach and sticking her head under the bed, her hand groping for the books. She was so engrossed in searching for her wayward novels that she didn't hear the bedroom door creak open, nor did she hear the soft padding of bare feet on the carpet.
After finishing her shower, Ginny wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom, enjoying the fresh feeling of wet hair on her back. She made her way back to her room, skipping lightly over the creaky step on the third floor. When she got to her room, she opened the door to find it empty. She frowned before shrugging; Hermione must have gone down to the kitchen already. She dropped the towel and bent over, rummaging around her dresser for underwear and clothes.
Unbeknownst to her, Hermione was actually at that very moment halfway underneath her bed.
So of course, it came as a complete (but not unnecessarily unpleasant) shock to Hermione when she finally recovered her books and stood up only to find herself staring at a very naked behind of Ginny Wesley.
"Eeep!" The brunette witch let out a squeak, startling Ginny who out of reflex, turned around and presented Hermione with a full frontal view of her breasts. This time, both witches let out squeaks and Hermione promptly dropped her books on the carpet - again.
It was five minutes, a few dozen flustered apologies from Hermione and a hastily thrown on bathrobe later before both girls, glowing like a setting sun, descended the staircase into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was already up and cooking up a storm. The mouth-watering aromas of bacon, eggs and toast wafted up to the girls whose stomachs grumbled in agreement.
"Morning girls!" Molly Weasley gave a warm smile at both of them before ushering the witches to the dining table. She flicked her wand and two plates piled high with breakfast soared from the kitchen and onto the table in front of Hermione and Ginny. It was then that Mrs Weasley noticed that both girls were blushing crimson and were both determinately avoiding each others gazes; Ginny was staring at her eggs as if they were the most amazing thing the world while Hermione had found a small scratch on the table extremely fascinating.
Mrs Weasley looked from Ginny to Hermione and back again, a thought growing on her mind. A small smile tugged at her lips before she turned to the girls to see if her intuition was correct.
"Did you sleep well dears?" she asked.
There was a mumble of "Yes, thank you ..." from the brunette and a "Yeah mum ..." from Ginny.
Molly could almost feel the sexual tension crackling in the air between the two and realisation dawned upon her. The dots connected in her head and it all became clear; the shy, furtive glances to each other when they thought the other wasn't looking, the hugs and holding hands that lasted just a little longer than normal and now the blushing and awkward silences. Something must have happened to finally make the two of them realise. It was about time then. She smirked, folding her apron and sat down next to Hermione.
"So," turning to the brunette teenager, the Weasley matriarch began in a conversational tone, "How long have you fancied my daughter?"
Hermione spat out orange juice across the scrubbed wooden table while beside her, Ginny choked on a piece of fried egg.
There was a brief moment when the two witches looked at Mrs Weasley with wide eyes before sheepishly glancing at each other then looking away again, small smiles on their faces.
Mrs Weasley stood up and gently kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Whatever makes you happy dear, know I love you, no matter what," she murmured, before beaming and turning to kiss Hermione on the forehead as well. "And I mean that for both of you," she said, smiling. Mrs Weasley moved back into the kitchen just as the rest of the boys thundered down the stairs, loudly bickering and gunning for breakfast.
In the chaos and rush to the dining table, no one saw Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger tenderly slip their hands together; nor did they see the small smile and the warm loving gaze that passed between the two young women.
It's well into November before Harry and Ron find out, although Harry already had some inkling. Predictably, when they told Ron he stared at the two of them gaping, his mouth doing an excellent imitation of a goldfish. Harry on the other hand merely smirked and nodded, before pulling both of them into a tight hug and echoing Mrs Weasley's thoughts.About time.
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