The God of My Idolatry

Additional disclaimers: The title - and several of the lines - come from William Shakespeare´s Romeo and Juliet.

Warning: F/f slash and shortness.

"Oh, speak again, bright angel!" Pansy whispered, burying her face in Hermione´s thick, soft hair. The Astronomy Tower had always been the two sixth-year girls´ favorite meeting place; Pansy loved stars. Even if she couldn´t tell one from another and refused to listen to Hermione´s names for all of them.

"Bright angel," Hermione repeated, brow furrowing, "when did you learn Shakespeare?" Pansy wasn´t usually so romantic. Even more baffling, she was a Pureblood who displayed close to no interest in the Muggle world, past or present.

"From you."

"From me?" Hermione couldn´t remember ever having read Pansy anything from Shakespeare. "No you didn´t...I never..."

"I borrowed the hardback edition of Romeo and Juliet that was lying around in your dorm," Pansy explained, burrowing deeper into her lover´s hair. It smelled so nice...what did Gryffindors shower with?

Hermione gently pushed the other girl away. Still, she felt the familiar tingle of pleasure at the nape of her neck. "Borrowed? Honestly, dear, you mean `stole,´ don´t you?"

"For a Slytherin, they´re more or less the same thing."

Hermione said, rather devilishly, "Oh? Then perhaps I should be rethinking this relationship."

"Parting is such sweet sorrow that I should say goodnight till it be morrow," Pansy murmured.

Hermione shook her head, trying in vain to hide the delighted grin that was slowly creeping across her face. "There won´t be a morrow if you don´t swear on your honor that you´ll return Romeo and Juliet."

"Has that Muggle, Shakespeare, written anything else?"

"Many things," Hermione said, "Othello, King Lear, A Midsummer Night´s Dream, As You Like It...but don´t change the subject. I want my book back."

"Where does he live?"

"He doesn´t live. He´s dead."

"When did he die?"

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh. "Hundreds of years ago. He was an old Muggle, from a long time ago." Hermione´s tone became stern. "And you may be a young Witch from now, Pansy Parkinson, but you´ll be dead too if Romeo and Juliet doesn´t show up in my dormitory sometime tomorrow."

"Please, Hermione. You´re not that violent."

"So you think! I can be very violent if it means getting back something I like. And I happen to like Shakespeare. Very much so!"

"I think I do too," said Pansy, now playing with Hermione´s robes.

"Really?" Hermione asked affectionately.

"Romeo and Juliet is my second-favorite love story."

Hermione´s gaze flittered from Pansy to the stars to Pansy again. "Is it? Then what´s your favorite love story?"

Pansy continued pawing at the other girl. "Take a guess, Granger!" she smiled.

Hermione smiled back. "That´s my favorite, too. But I still want Romeo and Juliet back. And preferably, soon."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I wanted to keep it. You´re such a spoilsport."

"I´m a Gryffindor."

"It shows."

"Thank you."

"That wasn´t a compliment."

"It should have been." Hermione shook her head. "But enough of this! Promise you´ll give it back."

"I promise," Pansy said.

Hermione titled her head slightly. "Do you swear?"

"Fuck!"

Hermione tried not to laugh and failed. "Pansy!"

"I swear by the stars and the moon - "

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, that monthly changes in its circled orb!"

"Then, Lady, what shalt I swear by?" Pansy´s eyes half-shut.

A suggestive smile played on Hermione´s lips. "By thy glorious self, which is the god of my idolatry," she whispered, pulling the other girl into a long, satisfying kiss.