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The moan that slipped out of Hermione’s mouth was pure sin in a way that had Ginny’s skin buzzing. She reached her hand up, running her fingertips along Hermione’s skin. As she moved higher, Hermione’s back arched off the bed. Fuck, her  body was crafted by Morgana. Every curve, every dip, every fucking bit of her had Ginny’s body vibrating with need. She swiped her tongue back up along Hermione’s cunt just as Ginny’s thumb found Hermione’s nipple. 

“Ginny.” Her  name sounded like a piece of Heaven on Hermione’s lips, and it only encouraged Ginny to taste her with renewed devotion. 

Ginny would be dreaming of this taste. She would be dreaming about Hermione and every single drop of gold that she  was able to lick from her cunt. Ginny would never be able to forget the way Hermione’s body reacted to every single one of her  touches. The way Hermione’s breaths grew more and more ragged would never leave her  ears. 

Every bit of Hermione was meant to live in Ginny’s mind. 

“Ginny.” Hermione’s voice was louder when she repeated her  name, and Ginny rolled Hermione’s nipple under her thumb in response. 

“Ginny.” Hermione repeated, even louder and needier. “Ginny.”

“Ginny. Ginny. Gin-”

“Ginny!” Ginny’s eyes flew open as she sat up quickly in bed. Her chest was heaving as she frantically looked around the room, reminding herself of where she was. 

She was at The Burrow, in her childhood bed . . . alone. 

“Ginny.” George was leaning in her doorway, his smirk pulling at his mouth. Ginny blinked quickly, grounding herself again. “What was that dream of yours about?” George crossed his arms and tilted his head, the same way he always did before he teased her. “Looked pretty . . . Exciting. Maybe you should share exactly what that noise you made was – Oi!” He tried to duck the pillow Ginny threw at his head, but her quidditch reflexes came out on top. 

Blush had taken over her face, and she could feel the panic in her eyes. Her brother had just caught her having a sex dream . . . about her other brother’s wife. Ginny’s heartbeat was in her ears. “George.” She had meant for his name to come out a warning, but she could feel the worry in her tone. 

That bit of worry must have gone over George’s head because he only flashed her a wink. “No worries, Gin. I can keep a secret.” He tossed the pillow back to Ginny as he turned to leave the room. “Only one of your brothers will know how you spend your nights.” 

The second George left her doorway, Ginny took the pillow in both of her hands and buried her face in it before she let out a scream.

It had been three weeks since Ginny had found her way into Hermione’s shower. Three weeks: twenty-one days and twenty-one nights. Of those twenty-one nights, twenty of them had been filled with dreams just like the one George had just woken her up from. Well, they aren’t all exactly like that. Sometimes they were back in that shower with Ginny’s leg over Hermione’s shoulder; sometimes Hermione would surprise Ginny in the Harpies locker room and Ginny would have her against the lockers; other times Ginny would lock the door behind her when she went to visit Hermione at St. Mungo’s and make her forget about the rest of her appointments for the day. 

Ginny groaned into the pillow her face was still buried in. 

She knew these dreams were wrong. Hermione was married. She was married to Ron. She was married to her brother , Ron. Ginny pressed her face further into her pillow and squeezed her eyes tighter. Hermione wasn’t hers. She had no right to be dreaming of all the places she wanted to have her, taste her, fuck her. 

But Ginny did have her.

She could still feel the way Hermione’s breath skated across her skin. The sound Hermione made when she fell apart on Ginny’s tongue still echoed in her head. It was as if Hermione was etched into her brain. Ginny couldn’t forget her even if she wanted to. 

Not that she wanted to. 

Ginny let out another groan into her pillow just as she heard someone shout out from downstairs. She stood up, taking a deep breath as she moved toward the stairs. “What is it?” She shouted down, leaning over the rail. George was a floor down, also leaning over the rail. Her dad was a floor lower, leaning the same as them and looking down to where her Mum stood, hands on her hips and annoyed look on her face. 

“What are you doing sleeping, Ginny?” Her Mum’s voice was shrill as she raised her volume to be heard. “You’re a grown woman now and you’re still sleeping in the middle of the day? For Merlin’s sake Ginny, you really need to –”

“Mum.” Ginny rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the lecture Molly Weasley had obviously been preparing for the entirety of Ginny’s nap. “What were you saying earlier?” 

“Oh, Theo sent an owl. He and Harry will be at the Ministry a bit late, he wanted to let you know. Are you going tonight? To the Gala? I heard it was in order to support a new breakthrough in Wolfsbane research. You know you really ought to wear . . .”

Ginny let out a slow breath as she leaned forward and rested her head against the railing. Right. The Ministry Gala was tonight. She had promised Harry and Theo she would go after Theo had plied her with one too many mimosas at their brunch. Now, they weren’t even going to be showing up on time. Maybe she could use this as an out.

Of course, Ginny had been invited on her own. Her years on the Harpies ensured her receiving an owl before every big money-raising, name-grubbing, Ministry-hosted event. She never said yes, though. The idea of fitting herself into some expensive set of dress robes all while having assorted Ministry employees beg her for some donation or to make some sort of statement to The Prophet in support of one of their causes filled her with dread. She would rather be back in her first year, honestly -- Tom Riddle’s diary and all. 

Then Theo had to go and pour her that tenth mimosa. Or maybe it was her eleventh. She couldn’t remember, and honestly that was proof enough. 

“Honestly Ginny, would it hurt you to run a brush through your hair? I just got in a new potion – it would make your hair lay in such beautiful curls. You could try it tonight. I would help –”

“Mum.” Ginny was already walking back into her room, leaving her Mum to be ranting mindlessly to no one in particular. “I am an adult. I’m pretty sure that means I am more than capable of getting ready for tonight on my own.”

She stepped into her room and reached for the door. “But Ginny –”

“No, Mum.” Ginny called out shortly just as she closed the door, effectively cutting her Mum off. As soon as the door is shut Ginny leans against the door and tilts her head back. Eyes closed, she slowly slides down the door until she’s sitting on the floor. 

For fuck’s sake, this family would be the death of her. 

Slowly, Ginny let herself open her eyes. Her eyes caught on the white suit she had hanging in her closet. She let out a slow breath. She could do this tonight. Merlin knows, if Theo arrived at the Gala only for Ginny to not be there he would immediately floo to the Burrow and drag her back to the Ministry kicking and screaming. It would be easier for her to keep her drunken promise, put on a smile and brave the world of high society for a night. 

Plus, Ginny would be lying if she hadn’t already been imagining what a certain Golden Girl would be wearing . . . 

Ginny exhaled quickly, mind resolved, and headed to the closet. She had a Gala to dress for.

❈

The sounds of light laughter mixed with the easy melodies of violins in the air. Not that it truly registered to Ginny. Theo laughed loudly, throwing his head back next to her and reached out to Ginny’s arm –as if for balance. She offered him a quick side glance and a halfway smile, encouraging him to continue on in whatever dramatic story he was telling. He took that as encouragement and immediately launched back into his tale. Ginny continued to smile, playing her part as if she was listening. 

But her eyes were already back on where they had been the entire night. 

Hermione’s dress seemed to be painted on her. It was a strapless, golden piece of art that hugged every one of her curves. As she moved through the room, the lights would catch on the strategically placed sequins and Ginny found her eyes tracing the curve of Hermione’s breasts, down to her perfect hips and then to the slit that hit strategically in the middle of her thigh. It showed just enough to turn the head of every wizard she passed, but hid enough so that every one of them had to dream about what was underneath. 

Ginny didn’t have to dream. She didn’t have to guess what her body would look like when that golden dress would be unzipped and pool at her feet. 

Ron leaned over to Hermione and whispered something in her ear that had Hermione smiling and leaning back to whisper something back to him. Ginny felt her fingers tighten on her champagne as she watched Hermione’s lip brush against Ron’s ear. Her stomach tightened into a knot and a lump rose in her throat. Jealousy flowed through her veins. 

Not that Ginny had any right to be jealous. What was she being angered by? A witch on her husband’s arm? How her wizard was able to make her smile? There was nothing going on that Ginny had the right to be angry about. She had no claim to jealousy. 

Ginny didn’t own Hermione. Ginny knows that. Hermione isn’t hers. Hermione is her sister-in-law. She’s Ginny’s brother’s wife. 

Still, she couldn’t take her eyes away from Hermione. Little flames licked under her skin and caused Ginny’s blood to boil. She felt her fingers tighten even more on her glass, and she knew that if she looked down her knuckles would be white. Ginny took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She turned her head back to Harry who then had his arm around his husband as he took over the story. But it was useless. Ginny couldn’t hear a word either of her friends said. The whole ceiling of the Ministry could come crashing down on them, and Ginny would still just be standing there . . . staring at her brother’s wife with nothing but unbridled want in her veins. 

“You really should come to these more often, Ginevra. That quidditch kit of yours does nothing for you out on the pitch.” A velvet voice sneaks up behind Ginny, and she blinks in surprise as she turns to face the source. There stood Pansy Parkinson. Her short black hair framed her face perfectly. Her painted red lips were pulled up in an easy smirk as her impeccably lined green eyes slowly raked over Ginny’s body. When her eyes reached Ginny’s, her smirk pulled into the smile of a witch who had just found her next target. “This suits you.” 

Ginny lifted her glass to her lips as she raised an eyebrow at Pansy. “Parkinson.” She greeted her. 

Pansy tilted her head as she nodded to Ginny, returning the greeting. For a minute, the two witches just stood there. Pansy’s eyes stayed locked on Ginny’s as if she was looking for something in her eyes. Ginny didn’t react. She kept her face even as she let Pansy search for whatever she wanted in her eyes. 

For a split second, Ginny let herself glance down at Pansy’s dress. It was black as night and dipped dangerously low in the front. The V nearly reached Pansy’s navel and the whole number was held up by two thin straps. There was no sparkle, no color beside the red of her lips. A simple layer of black tulle lined the top edge of her dress, exaggerating the dramatic dip between her breasts. 

It worked. Merlin, did it bloody work. 

Ginny looked back up to see that Pansy’s eyes had taken on a predatorial edge. Apparently, she had found what she was looking for. She stepped closer to Ginny as she spoke, “I know you always get invited to these events. What made this one worthy of your attendance?”

“I have a particularly needy set of friends.” Ginny replied easily, not stepping back as Pansy moved even closer. She nodded toward her left, motioning to where Harry and Theo were now laughing. “One of them plied me with alcohol until I agreed.”

“Ah, a victim of Theo Nott’s I see.” 

“Aren’t we all?”

“Only the lucky ones.” Pansy countered effortlessly. Her eyes flicked back down Ginny’s body and Ginny felt a quick shiver travel down her spine under the weight of her appraisal. “He is a smart wizard, though.”

“We are talking about Theo, right? Theo Nott?” Ginny was careful to keep her eyes on Pansy’s face even as Pansy took her time moving her eyes slowly up Ginny’s suit. A bit of electricity buzzed under Ginny’s skin and she felt herself move to stand straighter. As she moved, her suit shifted across her skin. Thank Godric, Ginny used a sticking charm on her jacket before she left the Burrow. 

Ginny had opted for a suit instead of a dress that night. Her all white ensemble was a combination of wide-leg trousers that fitted around her waist and arse perfectly and a jacket that buttoned just under her breasts. She wore nothing under the jacket. Instead her fair skin seemed to glow against the white of the suit, and her straight red hair stood out as if it was on fire. Her Mum always hated when she wore white. She complained that it washed Ginny out, made her look too pale. Ginny had always loved the way she looked in white, though. She loved the way the pure white made her freckles stand out across her skin and how her ginger hair seemed to come alive when it laid against the blank canvas the white provided. 

It made her feel like she was floating amongst the clouds – a kind of high that made her feel like she could look down at the witches and wizards around her. 

“Yes, we are talking about Theo Nott.” Pansy agreed, raising her free hand and tucking a stray piece of hair behind Ginny’s ear. A little spark of electricity shot through Ginny as Pansy’s perfectly manicured nails ran along the edge of her ear. “The wizard that managed to get you here . . . so that I could see you in that gift of a suit.”

Heat spread up Ginny’s neck at the praise, and she  found herself cursing her immediate reaction. She took a slow drink of her champagne, keeping her eyes on Pansy’s all along. “And who should I be praising for giving me an opportunity to see you in that dress?”

Pansy chuckled at Ginny’s question. She hadn’t stepped back after she had finished fixing Ginny’s hair. Instead she stayed close enough to where if Ginny exhaled hard enough, the fringe of Pansy’s hair would dance against her skin. “Just myself.” Pansy let her hand fall from Ginny’s ear and moved it so that her fingertip traced the edge of her lapel. Her finger followed the dip all the way down to the button. As she moved, her fingernail lightly trailed against Ginny’s skin, leaving little sparks as it did. Her eyes followed her finger’s path, as if she needed to focus on what she was doing. “Don’t you know, Ginevra? I’m a pureblood socialite.” She looked back up from Ginny’s suit just as she hooked her index finger behind the button. “I was bred for a party.” 

“Sounds like a dull life.” Ginny didn’t let herself focus on just how intoxicating it felt to be held still by Pansy Parkinson.

“Then you haven’t been attending the right parties.” Pansy retorted quickly. She gave a quick tug to Ginny’s jacket, and Ginny let her. With Ginny now just a breath away, Pansy tilted her head. “Anything can be exciting if you try hard enough.”

“Is that so?” Ginny’s voice stayed even, despite how her whole body was on edge. 

“Mmm.” Pansy’s reply was noncommittal, and Ginny saw how her eyes flickered down to Ginny’s lips. As an automatic response, Ginny’s tongue shot out, covering her bottom lip before she ran her teeth over it. Pansy’s smile turned dangerous. 

Ginny opened her mouth, ready to ask Pansy what her definition of ‘exciting’ was, but Pansy was faster. “It truly is unfortunate to pine after something that isn’t yours. Isn’t it?”

Where her skin had been buzzing not moments before, it now ran cold. Ginny’s eyes narrowed at Pansy and she ran her tongue along the front of her teeth, behind her lip. Pansy didn’t react at all to the movement, despite how the same look had made professional quidditch players wince in fear. She just stood in front of Ginny, finger still hooked on the inside of her blazer, eyes pulled together in mock innocence. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Parkinson.” Ginny ground out between her teeth. 

“No?” Pansy asked, exaggerated surprise dripping from the word. “So . . . you haven’t been staring at a certain witch all evening?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Ginny’s voice was tense, and her whole body was on fire. Although, this wasn’t the same fire she had felt as she relished in the feeling of Pansy’s finger against her skin. This was pure, defensive panic. 

“Tut, tut, tut.” Pansy clicked her tongue against her teeth as she gave a slight shake of her head. “Are you lying to yourself, Ginevra? Or just me?” 

“Are you attempting to stir up some drama in your poor, boring socialite life, Parkinson? Or just annoy me?” 

Pansy’s eyebrows shot up as if she was insulted, but her eyes stayed amused. “You know,” Pansy’s voice dropped so that no one around them could hear and stepped even closer to Ginny. They were practically chest to chest then. “I do have eyes. I am more than capable of noticing how a witch’s eyes haven’t strayed from a single person all night.”

Ginny’s whole body went rigid under Pansy’s insinuation. She tilted her head up as she blinked quickly, trying to reset herself. “I haven’t been staring at anyone, Parkin –”

“Who said I was talking about you?” Ginny blinked. Then she blinked again. Panic was spreading through Ginny’s body. 

“You’re talking to me?” Ginny’s explanation sounded more like a question in itself.

“But did I say I was talking about you?” Pansy tilted her head, pretending to think. “I don’t think I did.”

“You’re playing a game with me.”

“Oh, well I do like games . . . and I have no doubt you play beautifully, Ginevra.” That familiar bit of heat spread across Ginny’s face at the praise. Pansy smirked at her, no doubt very much aware of every single reaction she was eliciting. “But no, I’m actually talking about a witch who is currently trying to cover up their severe staring problem.” Pansy’s eyes flashed to Ginny’s right and Ginny turned her head slightly so she could see who Pansy was motioning too. 

Then she is met with the molten stare of Hermione Granger.

The Golden Girl’s eyes are locked on Ginny with an intensity that went straight to her core. Her rich, brown eyes were on fire, and Ginny’s skin buzzed at the site. Merlin, she was exhilarating when she was angry. Ginny was pretty sure Hermione’s stare had the power to reduce witches to pure ash. A soft breath danced across Ginny’s neck, and her whole body went rigid. 

“It seems you have captured a certain witch’s attention.” Pansy’s sass was delivered in a whisper that snaked its way along Ginny’s skin. “Which is rather interesting considering she held yours for a majority of the evening.”

As the tip of Pansy’s nose ran up the edge of Ginny’s neck, Hermione’s eyes narrowed and Ginny saw her grip tighten on her drink – not too unlike what Ginny had been doing earlier. Pansy was playing a game, toying with Ginny as she tilted her head and allowed her lips to graze Ginny’s skin. 

“And look at her now, practically ready to tear me apart as I get close to you. Why do you think that is, Ginevra?”

Ginny’s eyes were still locked on Hermione who seemed to be staring at the exact spot Pansy’s lips met Ginny’s skin. She swallowed once, hoping to rid her throat of the panic that had seemed to gather there. “Look, Parkinson–”

“Oh, I think you can call me Pansy now, Darling. I do have my lips against your neck.” 

The breath Ginny released then was ragged, and honestly part of her didn’t know if that was from her state of alarm or from the little pet name Pansy had just given her. 

“Pansy.” Ginny corrected, and Pansy hummed in approval. “It’s not what you think –”

“What I think,” Pansy pulled away from Ginny’s neck, smiling as if she was some sort of mad genius. “Is that it’s been rather ridiculous watching the two of you all night. So something needed to be done.”

“Something –” Ginny blinked in confusion before looking back at Pansy. “You mean you’re not . . . I had thought you were interested in me.” 

That slow, predatorial smirk pulled at the corner of Pansy’s mouth. “Oh, I am interested, Ginevra –don’t worry.” The dark-haired witch took a step back and nodded slightly behind her. “But a certain wizard does get dibs on me first these days.”

Ginny looked behind Pansy and saw the one and only Blaise Zabini leaning against the bar. His dark eyes were locked on Pansy, and Ginny was surprised she didn’t notice him before. Zabini must have felt Ginny’s gaze, because he looked up. Once he made eye contact with her, he flashed a smirk not too unlike Pansy’s and raised his glass to Ginny. Ginny nodded in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to Pansy. 

“If you ask nicely, though, he might share me.” Pansy purred. She flashed Ginny a quick wink before taking a half-step back. “Then again, I have a feeling your attentions are otherwise occupied.” She nodded discreetly toward Hermione, and Ginny glanced back. 

Sure enough, Hermione’s stare was still locked onto Ginny. Ron had disappeared at some point, because now it was only Hermione. She was standing there, one arm crossed while the other was reaching for a new glass of champagne. Her eyes seemed ready to burn a hole straight through Ginny. 

Merlin, why did the idea of Hermione Granger wanting to destroy her excite Ginny to no end?

Ginny looked back to Pansy, ready to tell her she couldn’t have been further from the truth - even if in reality she couldn’t be closer, but Pansy just winked at Ginny quickly before opening her mouth. 

“Tonight, Ginevra.” Her voice was louder, now – so that everyone in the Ministry could hear her. “I’ll see you tonight, at my flat.” She started to turn away, but not before she gave Ginny one last smirk. “I’ll adjust my wards so you can come right in.” She did turn around then, and started her path straight to Zabini. Without looking back she said one last thing, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Ginny just stood there, face confused, champagne still in hand, as she watched Pansy walk away from her. She didn’t let herself turn to look at Hermione. She didn’t need to. Ginny could still feel the heat from those molten eyes without looking at them. 

Slowly, Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

Fuck.

What the hell was that? What was Pansy trying to accomplish with that? Ginny shook her head in disbelief. She turned and headed for where she knew the restrooms were at the end of the hall, outside the ballroom. Ginny just needed space, she needed to breathe and make sense of that. Her eyes stayed down as she moved through the crowd, and out to the empty hallway. As soon as she was out of the room, Ginny paused. She leaned against the wall behind her and closed her eyes.

What was the point of Pansy putting on a show like that? What did she think was going to come out of –

Ginny let out a startled gasp as someone grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a room she hadn’t noticed. Before she could try to pull her arm away, Ginny was pressed against the wall. The whole space was dark, Ginny could hardly see two steps in front of her. What she could see was the familiar reflections of strategically placed gold sequins trailing down the front of a dress. 

And what she could feel was a tight grip on her arm as fingers threaded through her hair and held her head in place. 

Ginny’s legs clenched together at the pulling sensation, and she had to swallow her moan. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust to the black of the room. The white of her suit began to stand out, and then the fairness of her own skin. With a few more blinks, Ginny was able to focus her attention on the witch in front of her. 

Hermione stood there, one hand completely entangled in Ginny’s hair - not allowing her to move, the other locked onto Ginny’s forearm - just tight enough so that she couldn’t escape. Her brown eyes were alight with a fire Ginny couldn’t quite label, but could feel all the same. It was an intensity that tore through Ginny and traveled down her body and went straight to her cunt. Her mouth was set in a hard line, but as she saw the recognition dawn on Ginny’s face her lips pulled back into a delicious snarl. 

“What was that?” Hermione hissed, rage slipping into each of her words

Ginny’s mind was still reeling a bit as she tried to make sense of exactly what was happening, how she needed to respond and exactly how perfectly Hermione’s dress seemed to frame her breasts. “What was what?”

“Parkinson.” Hermione growled out, her eyes taking on a new flame. “What was that . . . with Parkinson?”

Ginny could feel her eyebrows pull together in confusion. Hermione was . . . Hermione was angry about Pansy? No, that wasn’t just anger Ginny heard in her voice. Anger wasn’t as sharp as that, even coming from Hermione. No, this was something else - something harsher. 

All of Ginny’s face relaxed as the realization hit. Her mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and she found herself blinking to steady herself. Ginny took a quick, deep breath before replying - making sure her voice was able to come out smooth and alluring. “Is there a problem with me getting another witch’s attention, Hermione?”

Even in the darkness, Ginny could see how Hermione was grinding her teeth together before she answered. “No.” She forced out.

Ginny tilted her head a bit. “Because last I checked,” Ginny’s voice was slow, her words measured. “I was single . . .”

Again, Hermione ground her teeth together, and her grip on Ginny’s hair tightened. Ginny held in the whimper of pleasure that wanted to sneak out at the sharp pull. “I’m aware of that.”

“So there isn’t a problem with me receiving some of Pansy’s attention?” Even with Hermione pinning Ginny against the wall, Ginny was sure to put as much authority as she could muster behind her words. 

“Oh it’s Pansy now?” Hermione spat back quickly.

“What if it is?” Ginny didn’t miss a beat with her returning question.

The fire in Hermione’s eyes hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it had only grown. She stood there a minute, eyes threatening to Incendio Ginny on the spot, and didn’t say a thing. Neither did Ginny. The two witches simply stood there, letting the thick silence hang between them. Finally, Hermione responded, “There’s no problem with how Parkinson was talking to you.”

Annoyance bubbled up in Ginny. Stubborn, pig-headed Hermione. Why couldn’t she just admit it? Why couldn’t she just say - right here, in this empty room - what she was feeling? What she wanted? Ginny felt a bit of her annoyance flash in her eyes as she fired back,
“Then why are we -”

“There was a problem with how you were talking to her.”

Ginny blinked, unsure of what to say. Hermione’s words had come out rushed, in a frenzy. It was as if she hadn’t even known what she was saying. Ginny tilted her head down, letting Hermione’s grip tighten on her hair so that she could look Hermione in the eye. “You had a problem . . . with the way I was talking to Pansy?”

“Yes.” Hermione answered in that same low tone.

Ginny shook her head, fighting against the grip Hermione still had on her. “Hermione, what do you –”

“You smiled at her.”

Ginny had to fight the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth with how ridiculous Hermione was being. “People smile when they –”

“Your eyes wouldn’t stop staring at her dress.” Hermione cut her off.

“It was a beautiful dress –” Ginny explained again.

“You let her kiss you.”

And there it was.

Hermione’s chest was heaving, as if finally admitting what had been poking at her from the inside had left her unleashed. Ginny could see it in her eyes. What was previously a hybrid of anger and jealousy had been replaced by one thing. 

Pure want. 

Ginny leaned forward, fighting the pull of Hermione’s fingers and pushing against the hand that still held her arm in against the wall. “Why shouldn’t I let her kiss me, Hermione?” Ginny let the question come out a whisper and she could feel the way Hermione’s body immediately responded to her tone as a shudder went through her. 

Hermione let out a breath before she responded, “You know why.”

The corner of Ginny’s mouth curled into a slow smile and she dropped her voice to that special tone she now saved only for Hermione. “And you know, Hermione, that I need you to use your words.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open a bit. Ginny’s smile grew as pride spread in her chest. Merlin, she missed that. She missed seeing how her words could leave the brightest witch of their age speechless.

Then, something shifted in Hermione’s eyes. A new determination took over her expression and a hunger set in. Her grip tightened on Ginny and a surprised gasp snuck out of her. Hermione leaned in closer, threading her leg between Ginny’s and raising her thigh so that her knee provided Ginny with the perfect amount of pressure. 

Ginny threw her head back against the wall, and as she gave Hermione more access, her Golden Girl leaned in, pressing her lips to the base of Ginny’s throat. 

“Because only I get to kiss you.” The possessive claim rolled out of Hermione like it was a growl from deep within. 

And that was all Ginny needed to hear. 

Ginny brought her face to Hermione’s and found her lips in a panic. For every bit of chaos and hunger that Ginny brought to the kiss, Hermione matched. They fought for control, a mess of lips, teeth and tongues. Each of their breaths were hot against each other's skin and with each new taste of Hermione’s skin, Ginny could feel the pressure in her core building. 

Hermione let go of Ginny’s arm, and moved her hand so that her fingers were tracing the edge of her blazer’s lapel. It was the exact same movement Pansy had traced along Ginny earlier, but now Ginny’s back arched into the touch, craving more. As she arched, she ground into Hermione’s knee - searching for friction, relief, anything to keep this tension building and get her closer to her release. 

As Ginny’s hips gyrated against her knee, Hermione let out a moan that danced on Ginny’s lips. Her hand moved from the edge of Ginny’s blazer and made short work of undoing the single button that had kept her modesty in check. Hermione went to move her hand under the jacket, but the sticking charm Ginny had cast earlier made that difficult. Hermione broke the kiss in order to let out a frustrated growl, before muttering a quick, “Finite Incantatem.” 

The satin flowed free from Ginny’s skin and Hermione wasted no time in finding what she wanted. Her other hand was still tangled in Ginny’s hair as Hermione palmed the underside of her breast. Her grip tightened on Ginny’s hair and she pulled Ginny’s mouth away from hers, opening her neck back up so Hermione could have free reign of her soft skin. Ginny let her eyes drift closed as Hermione dragged her tongue up the length of Ginny’s neck to the base of her ear. She nipped at her throat and a pathetic mewl poured out of Ginny. 

Ginny couldn’t control any of the sounds that were pouring out of her mouth. Her brain was incapable of keeping up with what was going on around her. All she could do was think of how many times she had dreamt of this - dreamt of getting to feel Hermione’s lips on her skin one more time, dreamt of hearing the way her moans were simultaneously airy and needy. 

Hermione dragged her teeth along the edge of Ginny’s ear just as she rolled over her nipple with her thumb. “You’ve teased me all night, Gin.” Hermione’s tongue shot out and lightly traced the outside edge of Ginny’s ear. “All I could think of all night was you in this fucking suit.” 

Ginny leaned her head back further, inviting Hermione to take more, to take it all. 

“You looked like a fucking angel tonight in there. Floating through everyone. Just out of my godsdamned reach.” Hermione pulled at Ginny’s hair, guiding her mouth back to hers. At the same time, Hermione’s hand left Ginny’s breast moved down to her waist. She gripped tight and guided Ginny’s hips so that she was grinding against Hermione even more. 

Ginny did as she was told and chased her release against Hermione. She brought her hand up to the side of Hermione’s face and spread it out so that her fingers wrapped around to the back of her neck. She pulled Hermione closer and one of her deliciously addicting moans slipped into Ginny’s mouth.

Breaking their kiss, Ginny leaned her forehead against Hermione’s. “You’re one to talk, Love.” Her words were airy as she forced them out on her ragged breath. “You look like you belong in a Gringotts vault tonight.” She leaned back in to renew their kiss, but Hermione just smiled against her. 

“Are you saying you plan on locking me up, Gin?” Merlin, the way Hermione teased had Ginny ready to drop to her knees and worship every inch of this witch with her tongue. 

Ginny smiled lightly before using the hold she had on Hermione’s neck to tilt her head so that Ginny could whisper right into her ear. She pressed a light kiss to her jaw, before making her way over. 

“Only if you ask nicely.” 

The whimpers that spilled out of Hermione then were something that Ginny would savor for the rest of her life. 

With a renewed intensity, Hermione pulled away from Ginny, breaking the grip she had on her neck and finding Ginny’s lips again. Hermione nipped at Ginny’s bottom lip and pulled at the already swollen skin so that the sensation was a sharp jolt that went straight to Ginny’s cunt. As Hermione made it her mission to thoroughly explore every part of Ginny’s mouth, Ginny felt her orgasm building again. She moved her hips against Hermione, and when Hermione’s knee hit that perfect spot Ginny let out a groan that could only be described as desperate. 

Hermione must have heard it because she raised her knee higher and moved her hand back to Ginny’s hip, encouraging her to take more. The pressure continued to build inside of Ginny. Hermione moved her lips back to Ginny’s ear, and the feeling of Hermione’s breath against that sensitive skin had Ginny nearly ready to fall apart. 

“So you tease me,” Hermione’s words were harsh but broken as she tried to control her ragged breathing. “All. Fucking. Night.” Hermione’s hand left Ginny’s hips and moved to the button of her trousers. “And then I look up and what do I see? What do I see, Gin?” There’s no chance Ginny could respond in any sensible way. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back against the wall. She could feel her chest heaving and her heart pounding.

Every single bit of Ginny’s self was lost in that moment. She was completely gone to everything that is Hermione Granger . . . and Ginny couldn’t think of anywhere she would rather be. 

“You,” as if to punctuate her words, Hermione undid the button on Ginny’s trousers, “were with Pansy.” She deftly unzipped Ginny’s trousers. “Fucking.” Keeping her mouth pressed against Ginny’s ear, Hermione moved her fingers so that she was ghosting the lace of Ginny’s knickers. “Parkinson.” 

Then Hermione slid her hand inside Ginny’s trousers. Ginny let out a gasp as Hermione lowered her leg and immediately replaced it with her hand, pressing the heel of her hand right against Ginny’s clit. A new wave of pleasure flooded Ginny, and she almost couldn’t take it. 

“ Fuck ,” Ginny cursed.

Her body was being overloaded, but Hermione wasn’t stopping. Her middle finger pulled Ginny’s knickers to the side and her index finger began to trace the outside lips of Ginny’s core. A deep, needy moan snuck out of Hermione when she could feel how wet Ginny was. 

Merlin, she was so close - so fucking close. 

“All I could think of, Gin,” Hermione’s lips were back at Ginny’s ear. Ginny tilted her head into the contact, searching for any kind of more while Hermione’s finger just lazily traced Ginny’s core. She was teasing her - building her up  into something as she continued to whisper into Ginny’s ear. “was how she was free to touch you. How she was free to smile at you. Free to say whatever she damned well pleased.” 

Ginny’s breath had gone ragged again, even with Hermione’s touch only being teasing. The sensation of Hermione’s voice washing over Ginny, walking her through every thought Hermione has was enough to make Ginny come on its own. 

“And then,” Hermione’s fingers stilled, and Ginny let out a whine at the loss of contact. Hermione pulled her lips away from Ginny’s ear and with the hand she still had intertwined in Ginny’s hair, Hermione turned Ginny’s head so that they were looking at each other right in the eye. “You let her fucking kiss you.” Without warning, Hermione plunged two fingers into Ginny. Ginny’s eyes drifted shut, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness as Hermione began a leisurely pace pumping in and out of her cunt. Ginny’s head started to roll back, but Hermione tightened her grip.

“No.” The word came out low, and Ginny’s eyes shot open. “No.” Hermione shook her head as if for emphasis before she looked Ginny right in the eye. “You can’t close your eyes on me, Gin.” Hermione leaned forward then, pressing a light kiss to the base of Ginny’s throat before moving to her ear. “I’m going to need you to be a good girl for me - in that way I know only you can - and listen to everything I’m going to tell you.”

Words were not an option for Ginny, so she just nodded in response. Hermione’s response was a slow and teasing smile. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

Merlin, Ginny could die right then and there and be perfectly at peace. 

Hermione returns her lips to Ginny’s ear and increases the pace of her fingers. She curves her hand so that the heel of her palm presses into Ginny’s clit. The added pressure unlocks something in Ginny, and she begins to grind against Hermione’s hand as her fingers fuck her. Hermione encourages it, humming against Ginny’s skin and pressing soft kisses to her neck. 

Fuck, she was going to explode if she didn’t come soon. 

“I heard what Parkinson said to you.” Hermione’s voice was low in Ginny’s ear. “I heard what she said to you as she walked away.” A third finger slid into Ginny and she let out a guttural moan that shook her whole chest. “You aren’t going to Parkinson’s tonight.” It wasn’t a question, but a command, and Ginny knew it.

“I’m not.” Ginny breathlessly agreed as her head tilted back further. Hermione took advantage of the access by moving her hand from Ginny’s hair to her neck. Hermione spread her fingers across Ginny’s throat and squeezed just hard enough to make a whimper of pure pleasure sneak out of Ginny’s mouth.

“First,” Hermione’s voice was dominating as it washed over Ginny. “You’re going to come on my fingers.” As if to emphasize her point, Hermione hooked her fingers so that they hit that spot within Ginny that left her helpless. Another round of mewls spilled out of Ginny, and Hermione just smiled against her ear. 

“Then, you’re going to walk out of here and have one more drink.” Ginny was already nodding, ready to agree to anything Hermione wanted from her. “No, we aren’t going to clean you up.” Ginny could hear Hermione’s dark smile in her words. “We’re going to make sure your cunt’s still dripping because of what I did to you in here tonight.”

Ginny’s cunt clenched down on Hermione’s fingers at the thought of walking through the Ministry, knickers ruined because of the devilish tongue of the Wizarding World’s Golden Girl. Hermione must have felt her reaction, because she let out a sharp hiss against Ginny. Ginny couldn’t even process her reaction. The tension inside of her continued to build. She was so close, Hermione had to let her come. She had to. 

“Then,” Hermione dragged her hooked fingers along Ginny’s wall and Ginny cried out. “You’re going to floo home, and when you get there I’ll already be in your bed.” Hermione leaned forward and took Ginny’s ear lobe between her teeth, biting down hard before she covered the same spot quickly with her tongue. 

This was it, Ginny was going to burst. She was so fucking close. 

“And then you’re going to show me exactly what you’ve wanted to do to me all night.” Ginny nodded, frantically nearing her climax as Hermione leaned in even closer so that her lips were flush against the flat of Ginny’s ear. 

“And then I’m going to prove to you that I’m the only witch that gets to kiss you.” She pressed a soft kiss to Ginny’s ear. “Anywhere. I. Want.” Utter nonsense poured out of Ginny’s mouth as she agreed with Hermione. Anything, she would do anything Hermione wanted, just please - please, she had to let her come. 

Hermione smiled against Ginny, as she continued to fuck her with her fingers. Ginny’s hips were chasing the friction, and Hermione was encouraging it. She sang soft praises as Ginny rolled her hips, and every word went straight to Ginny’s cunt. 

“Yes, that’s it.”

“That’s my Good Girl.”

“Yes, Gin, you look so good for me like this - riding my hand, taking what you want.”

“Just a little bit more, Gin, you can do it.” 

Every bit of Ginny was shaking with pure need. The build up had been too much, too intense. She didn’t even know if she could come now. Her body might be too tightly wound, too overwhelmed. But then Hermione ran her tongue along the edge of Ginny’s ear one more time before pressing her lips against the base of Ginny’s neck. 

“Come for me. Now.” 

And then Ginny shattered. She let out a sound that she didn’t recognize from herself, and she saw white behind her eyes. Her whole body was reeling, going through wave after wave of the most intense climax Ginny had ever experienced. Through each wave, Hermione’s fingers continued to pump in and out of her - fucking her through it. 

When Ginny came down, she turned and looked at Hermione to see her eyes shining with a pride that made Ginny smile automatically. Carefully, Hermione slid her fingers out of Ginny, fixed her knickers and then pulled her hand out of her trousers. Her eyes staying locked on Ginny’s, Hermione raised her fingers - glistening with Ginny’s arousal - and tasted every single one of them. Ginny’s mouth dropped open, and for a moment she forgot what she was meant to be buttoning her trousers again. 

Hermione smirked at her. “One more drink.” Ginny nodded, mind still incapable of forming any kind of articulate response. “Then you’re going to leave and head to the floo. Then,” Hermione leaned forward and pressed a barely-there kiss to Ginny’s lips. “You’re going to come home to me.” She stepped back and raised an eyebrow at Ginny. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Ginny’s response was breathless. 

Hermione kept stepping backward until she had reached the door she had pulled Ginny inside just moments ago. She gave Ginny a quick wink as her hand reached down for the handle. 

“Good girl.”