|femexchange_mod (femexchange_mod) wrote in fem_exchange,|
@ 2008-12-17 20:15:00
|Entry tags:||ginny/hermione, pg13|
Happy holidays, winnett! (Hermione/Ginny, PG-13)
Title: Almost Sinful
Warning(s): Strong language
Note: Written for winnett, who wanted plot, UST, and a happy ending– if nothing else, I think I managed those. I started and discarded about 4 fics before finishing this one, so I desperately hope you enjoy it– Happy Holidays!
I’ve woken up so early on this fabulous morning that it seems almost sinful to stay in bed. I get up as quietly as possible, throw on some clothes, and peep through the curtains. Outside, the dawn light has already faded from its first glow, bathing everything in daylight yellow, and the hedges lead my eyes down to the pond, which is glinting alluringly. Leaving the room, I stop to look at Hermione, who is still asleep, hair covering most of her face but moving gently in time with her breath.
Down by the pond, I jump about and call stupid noises at the birds. I realise that somebody might conceivably be watching but, never mind, I keep going, stretching and warbling and rolling around on the grass. I have the sudden urge to dip my hand in the water, which is cold, but lovely. This is when I get the idea to go swimming.
After breakfast, I mention it to Hermione. “It’s a bit muddy, but it should be alright. What do you think?”
She smiles and pushes her chair out from the table. “That sounds fun. Let’s do it. We can’t waste a day like this.”
A little later, I am dumping a towel down by the edge. Putting on my swimming costume, but the wretched thing is too small. I feel like a 13-year-old whose skin is too small for her body.
As we get in, Hermione laughs. “Wow,” she says, “It’s much warmer than I thought it would be.” I nod and dunk my head under the water. When I open my eyes again and shake the hair from my face, she has started to swim out into the middle. We race, and splash at each other, but I feel more and more uncomfortable. “I might as well be wearing a tea cosy,” I grumble.
“Just take it off, then,” she calls from the other side of the pond.
I’m wavering, but she looks back at me and smiles innocently, so I think - she must be right – there can’t be any harm in it.
I take it off in the water and throw it onto the bank. Head underneath again and feeling rather glad after all that it’s muddy. An image of myself as a penguin enters my brain.
“That looks nice,” she says, her wet hair glinting; a pause, in which her face rearranges itself several times a second, “I might take mine off too.” I can hardly object.
So here we are, both in the pond, wearing nothing. We have another race and this time she wins. “Oh no,” I exclaim theatrically, “what’s happened to me?”
“Maybe you’re feeling flustered by skinny-dipping” she suggests, laughing. I can recognise that look in her face, a freedom of expression, that only appears when we’re together alone. I can’t think of anything to say immediately, so I laugh too. Now I feel stupid, but she doesn’t notice, instead going into a star float. I can see everything – it’s like she’s forgotten she’s naked – and suddenly I feel so heady, a combination of the beautiful day, the feeling of the water, the inhibition. But somehow, such a sensation is not a good thing, so I turn around, busying myself with tidying my hair.
I want to get out now but I don’t exactly know how to. I awkwardly hurry onto the bank and grab a towel, covering myself. She watches, looking disappointed.
“I’m cold,” I call before she can say anything, and I smile like normal, and soon she has got out too and we are back inside and it is over.