Sanctuary

Sanctuary

Ginny loves to curl up on HermioneÂ’s bed and listen to the sounds of Muggle London that drift in through the ageing glass of the windowpanes. Sometimes, Hermione speaks about her childhood and Ginny closes her eyes and thinks about far-off places and things sheÂ’ll never fully understand. She rarely feels as safe as when her head rests against the swell of HermioneÂ’s thigh, while the lamp beside the bed casts silver shadows on the walls.

Ginny rarely talks about Harry any more. Once, Hermione seemed to be the only one who understood the creeping anxiety that Harry provoked and Ginny would speak for what seemed like hours about how, every time she saw him, she thought that she would surely faint from the sheer, cumbersome excitement of the moment. These days, Ginny can think of a thousand more important things to discuss.

Hermione always understands. Ginny learnt that a long time ago. They donÂ’t always agree, but theyÂ’ve never actually fought. Sometimes, theyÂ’ll sit at opposite ends of HermioneÂ’s bed, debating about music and homework and whether GinnyÂ’s hair would suit her better with a fringe, while downstairs the adults frown over the latest news of the war. ItÂ’s easy to pretend that thereÂ’s nothing more important than the sound of HermioneÂ’s giggle, just as long as the bedroom doorÂ’s closed and thereÂ’s no echo from the hall.

Some nights, after GinnyÂ’s mother whispers her goodnights and tiptoes back downstairs, Ginny slides into HermioneÂ’s bed and presses her cold feet against HermioneÂ’s until they both have to bury their faces in the pillow to muffle their squeals of laughter and surprise. HermioneÂ’s taller and more solid than her, and Ginny fits neatly into HermioneÂ’s arms, her cheek warmed by the curve of HermioneÂ’s breasts and the soothing rhythm of her heart. When Ginny shivers from a sudden chill of reminiscence, Hermione smoothes her hair with the palm of her hand and kisses her forehead with knowing lips.

With Harry, it was different. Ginny memorised his face and asked her brothers questions until they told her to be quiet. She blushed when they passed in the Hogwarts halls and stammered whenever Harry was kind enough to say hello. At night, Ginny would burrow beneath the blankets and create fairy tales inside her head, while the other girls sighed and murmured nonsense in their sleep.

Hermione tells wonderful stories. Her breath tickles GinnyÂ’s ear, as their fingers intertwine. Sometimes, she talks about people they know, but usually the characters are bold and fanciful, their lives and frustrations fading in the morning sun. Hermione believes in happy endings. Ginny teases her for this failing, but Hermione never seems to mind, laughing as she wraps an arm around GinnyÂ’s waist. Ginny loves HermioneÂ’s laugh. Whenever she hears it, she canÂ’t help but laugh herself.

When Hermione kisses her, Ginny kisses her back so thoroughly that sometimes she forgets to breathe. She loves the way that Hermione whispers her name as she arches beneath the sensation of GinnyÂ’s lips upon her neck. HermioneÂ’s arms always wrap tightly around her when Ginny slides gentle hands beneath HermioneÂ’s nightdress, exploring the smooth lines of her friendÂ’s body. Ginny doesnÂ’t need to memorise the feel of HermioneÂ’s mouth upon her breasts; itÂ’s as though sheÂ’s always known the intimacy of HermioneÂ’s touch.

Some nights, Ginny is left boneless and sated as she dozes within HermioneÂ’s embrace. Other times, the caresses are tender and almost chaste, laced with sleepy conversation and careful avoidance of what might be going on outside. In the darkness, Ginny can pretend that there is nothing beyond the brush of HermioneÂ’s hair against her shoulder blade and she closes her eyes tightly against any sound that drifts beneath the door.

Ginny knows better than to think about forever. She is young and the war is just beginning. Soon, she will be back at Hogwarts and everything will be forced to change. Hermione will have OWLs to study for and Harry and Ron to laugh with and to protect. For now, though, Ginny wraps herself in the warm sanctum of the moment and smiles whenever Hermione meets her gaze. After all, Hermione believes in happy endings.

Ginny believes in Hermione.

~fin~
© Augustus, 3rd July 2003