That Brilliant Witch | By : Pallcaps Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female > Hermione/Ginny Views: 15353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters contained within. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
She looked simply exceptional. Her burning mane cascaded in very gentle waves to her breasts, but she never wore it in the front; it always fell behind her. Her bright brown eyes positively glistened and twinkled against her fair and lightly freckled skin. Her full, scarlet lips were pulled into a coy smile as she looked up at me. “Shall I do anything else for you while I’m down here, Hermione?” She let out a breathy and muffled laugh as she finished slipping off my shoes and pushing the covers of my four-poster over me, setting me up for bed.
I couldn’t help but smile and laugh too much. “Oh Ginny. You’re always so funny. And so helpful and, er, Gryffindor-like. We are Gryffindors, aren’t we?”
I should tell you - I was a little drunk. It wasn’t something I did often at all, in fact it was quite rare that I indulged in the stuff, but I had had such a dreadful day. Her brother was –is– such a daft idiot. It seemed so obvious that we wanted each other, to be with each other in such stressful times, but he went and got himself involved with that…tramp Lavender Brown. I was having a cry in my four-poster when Ginny had come in to comfort me. She had me wait as she managed, one way or another, to obtain some rather potent alcoholic drinks that the twins had tucked away somewhere in the common room.
When she had come back she convinced me to drink with her. I don’t remember putting up a particularly strong defense. It wasn’t long before Ginny and I were feeling quite “buzzed”, I think is the word. Again, she quite easily convinced me that we should stop feeling so sorry for ourselves (She was in the midst of some boy drama as well. Not only was she having trouble with her then-boyfriend Dean, but she was getting some odd signals from Harry that only served to confound her further), leave the bedroom, and sneak about the castle to reach the Room of Requirement. She has said she had a wonderful idea.
We left the room and traipsed down the stairway to the common room. We were in luck as it were, as we happened to see Harry down there in a plushy chair and, what’s more, I saw him first and was able to save Ginny from having to mince words with him in her current state. I told her to wait for me by the portrait hole (out of his immediate line of sight), then went and told Harry I needed to do some important research in the library. I asked him if I could please borrow his invisibility cloak, and told him that it was so important I would quit pestering him about the Half-Blood Prince book he’d been snogging in private for months if he let me. He reluctantly went to his room and handed it over to me. Once he had fallen back into conversation with some of his mates I sneaked back to Ginny and, when all prying eyes were elsewhere, we stole under the cloak and crept through the portrait hole.
Ginny said she knew a shortcut to the Room of Requirement, and we toed quietly through the halls and up and down various staircases until we came quietly to the familiar stone wall. She asked me to wait a moment while she opened the room. I asked her what kind of room she would be opening, and she hushed me and told me again to stay put.
She carefully pulled herself from beneath the cloak and I watched her pass the room once, twice, three times with her eyes closed, clearly concentrating very hard. A slight, wooden door appeared. Its worn slats were alternating black and white, though some appeared to be made of simple dirt and dust. Ginny grabbed and turned the small bronze knob, and waved me over as she slowly opened the door.
There was a faint light that escaped the door, hardly noticeable, but noticeable all the same, so Ginny rushed me in and shut the door as soon as she felt me brush past her. I tugged the cloak off of me and looked to my companion who seemed to avoid my eyes as she gazed upon the room. I, in turn, took in my surroundings. There were several lit torches around the walls of the stone room that gave a very soft, warm light. The room itself was somewhat bare, there was a single sofa with two chairs facing it, surrounding a small coffee table. Just next to the seats was a gently burning fireplace. On the opposite side of the room was a four-poster bed with very thick looking covers. In the center of the room was a very large, circular rug that seemed to make it all look much more comfortable and inviting.
“It’s brilliant, Ginny,” I breathed, then looked to her again. “But what did you ask the room to be?”
“Thanks,” she said, blatantly ignoring my question. She grabbed my hand and led me to the sofa. We sat down and, upon closer inspection, I saw that the coffee table was not what it appeared to be. Ginny pulled at the top of it and it revealed itself to be a magically refrigerated chest. She reached in and handed me a dusty, unmarked bottle while she herself extracted a stubby bottle of firewhisky. I looked at her a bit incredulously, or I meant to, and she simply smiled back at me. “Drink it,” she encouraged.
I couldn’t think of a good reason not to. I don’t know what I had left my dormitory for, but I had to have expected something to this effect. I opened the bottle and drained its contents rather quickly, not savoring the bitter taste. Ginny laughed at the face I made, and took an effortless swig from her bottle. She made to pass it off to me and I quickly waved it off, but she narrowed her eyes at me and my will broke instantly.
“What are we doing here, Ginny?” Upon speaking my head felt a bit confused and heavy. I was certainly more inebriated than I had ever previously been in my life.
“We’re just getting away from all the people, ‘Mione,” I normally despised when people called me any variation of my name, but somehow I always gave her a pass. In return, I think, she never used these names around other people. “It’s so loud and crowded up there. And there are boys everywhere. Stupid boys that do stupid things.”
“You’re telling me,” I gasped. Thinking about Ron got my emotions stirring all over again. There was a wealth of feeling there, too: the warmth that would take me over at the thought of him grasping my hand, keeping me safe; the emptiness that seemed somehow to fill me when I thought of his often blatant disregard for my emotions or, admittedly, subtle advances; the fluttering in the pit of my stomach when he smiled at me with his wonderful freckles that lit hit face.
I felt my stomach start to churn a bit as I felt these waves crash upon me. Ginny placed a hand on my knee, as she took another swig of the whiskey, then passed it off to me. I looked from her hand to the bottle to her face, then back to her hand. I grabbed at the bottle and pulled more than I intended. My face screwed into a grimace and Ginny laughed at me. I joined her.
We carried on our conversation from the dormitory, riddled with our teen angst, unhappiness, and expectancy. Ginny’s hand hadn’t left my knee but, almost imperceptibly, moved a bit further up my thigh. She was very subtle, as I hadn’t noticed until I caught a glimpse of the fair, lightly freckled skin out of the corner of my eye as I made to take the bottle from her again. I met her eyes, “Ginny…” I started, perhaps a bit more breathlessly than I had meant. “Ginny what are you playing at?”
“Playing at? Me?” she said, her face in mock confusion. I don’t think she could help but let her mouth turn up in a coy smile as she stared back at me. Her hand didn’t move.
“You know,” I searched for words in my heady state. It was like grasping for light in a dense fog. “Ginny, I…I don’t mind if you’re, er, into that…but you have to know that I’m not.” It was hard for me to meet her eyes; I kept them lowered as I awaited her response. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. She was my best girlfriend, and I could talk to her about loads of things that Harry and Ron were just too thick to understand. They were very brash and headstrong people, and oftentimes that’s fine. But sometimes I needed to be with someone who would take a moment to understand me and validate my feelings and observations.
“Like what? I’m not a lesbian, Hermione. I don’t want to hold your hand and take you out for a stroll around London and buy you candy. I just—“ she paused, I could tell she was struggling to find the proper words to convey her meaning. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, you know. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about kissing a girl, about holding her tight and letting her hold you. About grabbing her bum, or reaching your hand down her knickers. About looking her in the eyes as you taste her, Hermione. Don’t tell me you haven’t. And I’m here. We’ve had such a bleak last few years, the next few look right miserable as well. Who knows if we’ll even be alive much longer. I don’t want to go without having tried everything I can try. And I want to try it with you.
“Look,” she continued, putting a finger under my chin gently and raising my eyes to meet hers for the first time in what felt like ages. “I want to spend a night with you. We’re not going to tell anyone, we’re unplottable on that map of Harry’s, and no one saw us come in here. No one knows where we are, and no one could possibly get in here, and no one could possibly know what we’re going to do.” She shifted her weight so she was leaning in a bit closer to me. Her hand still hadn’t moved from my knee.
We looked into each other’s eyes for a very long time. My heart was racing. There was a heat rising in the pit of my stomach. I knew the feeling, but had never so markedly been able to attribute it to another girl. To Ginny. To this beautiful redhead in front of me. I can’t say that the alcohol didn’t play a role, but I realized in that moment that that was what I wanted. I wanted everything she said. I wanted her to hold me, touch me, take me. And I wanted to do the same to her. And especially to her. If I was being honest, it wasn’t the first time I’d thought of her. But it was the first time I had with a sense of reality.
I took in a deep breath and tried to summon my courage, I was supposed to have courage. Even a grimy old hat knew that when I was eleven. I leaned in and met her lips. Our kiss lasted mere seconds, but as always it felt like so much longer. Her lips were full and warm. They seemed to perfectly complement mine. When we broke apart, we looked at each other for just the briefest of moment before charging back in. Our heads tilted, our lips parted, our tongues dancing. She pushed herself onto me and I fell back so I was lying flat on the sofa with her on top of me, one knee resting between my legs, the other planted on the floor.
She wasn’t overly forceful but she was very much in control of this situation. She broke the kiss and I gasped. I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. My whole stomach was warm and I was sure she could feel it even through both our robes. Her lips traced a path from my lips to the very base of my neck and I craned to give her more space. I had never felt like this before, no one had ever touched me like this. No one had ever really touched me.
I could feel her breasts grazing over me as she kissed at my neckline. I tugged at her robe a bit, signaling that I wanted her to remove it. She rose up from me and yanked the dark cloth over her in one sweeping motion. I was shocked, she wore nothing beneath it but a pair of tight purple knickers that had a bit of a lacy black fringe at the top and bottom. I felt embarrassed for a quick moment as I thought about all the obstacles she would have to go through to get me to an equal state of undress. This feeling was vanquished instantly as she came swooping back into me, meeting my lips again. I wrapped my arms around her and felt her smooth back, caressing up and down, as if trying to memorize every inch. My hands trailed down to her tight, full bottom and grabbed her firmly over the material. It was so satisfying I could hardly imagine my life before having done it. She let out a bit of a moan.
She stood back up, and yanked at my arm, meaning for me to rise as well. I stood, and pulled my robe off of me and let her head fall back as she laughed at my attire beneath. She sighed and rolled her eyes playfully and stripped me of my blouse and sweater. I felt very naked, being left in my pleated skirt, tights, and bra. She was drinking me in, and I didn’t know what to do – I felt like our rhythm had been disrupted.
I began to tug my skirt down, but her hand grabbed mine to stop me “No,” she breathed into my ear and wrapped her arms around me. Her fingers swiftly worked my clasp, and my bra between us to the floor. My breasts are not as large as Ginny’s, but they’re at least as pert and a handful nonetheless. When she leaned into me they touched, I felt a charge; she kissed me and pushed her weight into me so that my knees buckled and we dropped back to the sofa. I was sitting mostly upright, propped against the sofa, Ginny was on my lap with her knees on either side of me, our lips still quite locked. I wrapped my arms around her again, pulling her very tightly so I could feel our nipples rub against each other’s skin. There was such a wealth of sensation I couldn’t find anything to concentrate on.
In that moment where I felt myself washing away and unable to pinpoint any single touch, that beautiful redhead, my fantastic companion, slid herself down from my lap to the floor. She flashed her coy smile again, winked, and began kissing the skin just above the hem of my stockings. This was dangerously close to my crotch which I could feel becoming unimaginable warm and moist. She was relentless. She pecked a trail of soft, wet kisses from my left thigh to the edge of my knickers. As she made to switch to the other thigh, she lingered over my crotch, and I could hear her breathe in a whiff and then slowly exhale her hot breath onto me. A shudder ran all through my spine and I squirmed in my seat; she either took no notice or relished in it as she continued her kisses on my right thigh.
She was coming close to my crotch again and I was hoping she would go in. I wanted – needed – her to be in me. She began to kiss at my lips over the cloth. At first, she was very soft and gentle and used a lot of her warm breath, but then she quickly increased her intensity by nibbling just as lightly as she could against the outline of my lips. I looked down at her and took a moment to appraise and appreciate the sight: nearly nude, on her knees, between my thighs, entire head lost inside my skirt, fiery hair pooled about. It was most certainly something to commit to memory.
Ginny managed to grip the knickers, and just the knickers, in her teeth and began to pull; I obliged her by lifting my bottom up so she could slide them down my thighs, over my knees, passed my calves, off my feet – and just like that my best friend had removed my underwear and was diving back into my crotch. For the first time I felt her hot breath on my lips. I felt her nose rub my clitoris. I felt her tongue spread me apart and just barely reach my insides. She made more passes. She was lapping at me with vigor, not stopping or slowing. She was maintaining a wonderful rhythm that caused my hips to buck without a single conscious effort on my part. She used her teeth just so slightly again so brilliantly. She just barely nibbled at my nub and I couldn’t help but shriek in ecstasy. She must have taken pleasure in this because she began to alternately slide her tongue as deep as she could inside me and nibble and suckle at my button.
I was bucking very hard, my bottom was clenched tight and I was practically thrusting my crotch into her face every time she sank her tongue into me. I reach down and ran my fingers through her mane, gently pushing her closer to me. I was panting loudly and I was positive that I could hear her moaning as well. It took a bit of doing, but I managed to grab at one of her breasts with my other hand. I caressed it gently at first, but as she continued to intensify her ministrations, I reciprocated in full and relished in her muffled grunts. Just when I thought I could take no more, she slid a finger into and pumped vigorously. I absolutely lost myself in the throes of my climax and rather can’t remember what happened for the next few moments.
My memory kicks in at Ginny rising from between my thighs and coming to rest on my lap again. She kissed me heavily and I could so very clearly taste myself on her – in her. I loved it. There is almost no way to accurately describe the taste, it was sort of muted and had no distinct flavor, but there was certain musk, a hint of tang. This mixed brilliantly with her own taste. I knew it was my turn to give her something to remember – something she wouldn’t forget. And it wasn’t simple obligation that provoked me, but rather an insurmountable excitement. I couldn’t wait to taste her.
I wrapped my arms around her for neither the first nor last time that night, and quickly flipped our positions so I was on top of her. I couldn’t let my lips leave hers, I couldn’t imagine my tongue not exploring her own. My hands caressed her breasts again, my fingers occasionally toying with her nipples the way I rarely would play with my own – the way I wanted her to do to mine. I was either brilliant and she could hardly move, or I was mad and she was just waiting for me to get on with it, I could hardly tell. Regardless, I broke our kiss and shifted our bodies so we were lying on the sofa, and pressed my hips down into hers so I could feel her knickers with my still soaking lips. She moaned loudly.
I kissed at the base of her neck, then moved up slowly to her ear, gave it a light nibble and let out a feeble moan. She squirmed beneath me, grabbing at my hanging breasts and squeezing very hard. She raised her head and sucked at one for a moment and I gasped, arching my back. I grinned and moved down her body, my nipples dragging across her skin from breasts to navel, when my lips met her cleavage. I sucked gently at the cavity between her mounds, I wanted to leave my mark on her. My hands grasped at either of her breasts and squeezed and pulled at her nipples as I had done shortly before. My tongue darted from my lips and made swirls around one of her areolas, and the nipple seemed to try to burst from itself it was so stiff.
I alternated my actions with her breasts and increased and the tempo in relation to her moans. I then brought one hand to her groin and gently felt her. She was hot, and her knickers were exceptionally damp. I was performing brilliantly and I, in turn, felt brilliant. I yanked the cloth down her legs and raised my hand back to her, exploring her folds. In swirling motions I moved from her clitoris to her labia, then inside her completely. I began to bite gently at her throat, then the side of her neck as I slid my ring and middle fingers inside her. She was panting and moaning and writhing under me.
I then sat up and moved my body down so that one of her legs was between my thighs. I began rubbing myself against her thigh while introducing my index finger to her soft, pink insides. She seemed to enjoy not only the three fingers, but also my wet lips gaining friction on her. I leaned in to suck and lick at her breasts again. I continued this for a short while: rocking myself on her thigh, alternately prodding her and rubbing her clit, and sucking and biting at her breasts. She began to moan very hard, which made me moan even harder.
She flipped me over so we fell to the ground, and she was on top of me. She kissed me very passionately as she held my arms down. I could not get over the sensation of her hard nipple against mine as her breasts swayed over me. She broke our kiss and rotated about me so that we were both facing each other’s crotches. I didn’t have time to feel nervous before she hiked my skirt up and dug her tongue into me and I reciprocated immediately. She tasted much like me but somehow distinctly different. It was very blissful, to have my tongue digging deep into her tunnel, while simultaneously feeling her teeth nip at my clit. I grabbed two great handfuls of her bottom tightly, and plunged my tongue as deep as I could into her.
She was squirming. I was squirming. We were bucking against each other. Our tongue were lashing in between each other’s lips. I sucked at her now-pronounced button and she gasped loudly. We were both very close to finishing. We were thrusting our hips so far into each other we had to make an effort to breathe. As if by some grand scheme, we bother thrust two fingers into each other at the same time. I felt the waves coming again, and I could feel her against me. We each had our fingers in each other and continued prodding. I was curling my fingers inside her and in one glorious moment she arched her back and cried. Thankfully, she hadn’t stopped her ministrations as it took me just a moment longer to break into my final climax of that night.
Ginny spun about me again and collapsed to my side, resting an arm around my chest and gazing into my eyes. We were panting, but still very clearly smiling at each other. She kissed me once on my forehead and said very softly “Thank you, ‘Mione.”
I couldn’t help but grin a bit wider “No, Ginny. Thank you. That was…brilliant.”
We lie there for probably an hour, mostly nude, but no longer with a sexual air between us. Somehow we just talked about the goings on of the castle and classes, and, of course, the stupid boys that started this whole thing. We got dressed eventually, and then sat back on the sofa and continued talking, and even drinking a bit more, though with less vigor. Ginny suggested that we make our way back to the dormitories and I acquiesced, so we donned the invisibility cloak and returned.
This, I think, covers my night in incredible detail, and brings us back to the beginning of the story. I have no one to tell this story to, and as such felt that writing it would do me a bit of good in reliving the experience and getting it out of my head for a bit. I must admit, I have urges – deep seeded desires to be with her again. Perhaps, even, to be with someone else. I have questions about myself that I cannot be certain currently have answers.
I do not intend to keep this scroll, who knows what someone would do with it if they found it.
I think this rather completes my entry.
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