La courbe de tes yeux

Chapter Five: From embers to flames.

Ginny was sitting in the common room, anxiously waiting for Hermione to come down. She wondered if maybe she should have dressed more casually. Harry, who was sitting on the floor in front of her, staring into the fire, was in jeans and his Weasley-sweater, and she knew the twins weren't dressed any better (although they had more of a reason not to be. Crawling into the tunnel to Hogsmeade wasn't very convenient to do in anything else but old jeans). With every minute that passed she felt more and more foolish, with her split skirt and her black lacy top, not to mention the small coloured feathers in her hair.

For their very last year in Hogwarts, Lee Jordan had decided that the twins deserved to have a real birthday party. Ginny had wholeheartedly agreed. She didn't know why they never celebrated birthdays, anyway. Harry was always stuck at his horrible Aunt and Uncle's house for his birthday, but Hermione's, Ron's and her own were during the school year. She understood that if everybody started doing a party for their birthday, a week wouldn't go by without the Gryffindor Common Room crowded with students drinking and eating, but exchanging gifts over breakfast was just so frustrating!

Moreover, occasions to rejoice seemed to grow scarce these past months, and every student knew they should have fun while they still could. The war against Voldemort seemed to leave Hogwarts and its students untouched, but the news from outside weren't really rejoicing...although they all knew they were lucky the news weren't worse. Voldemort seemed to take his time to strike, and most of the magical world's forces were occupied with reaching Voldemort's possible allies and getting them on the good side before they could be corrupted. Harry's scar hadn't hurt him since December.

She tugged her skirt down for the billionth time, wondering what had possessed her to borrow Lavender's clothes. She should have known she'd look ridiculous. The twins hadn't said anything when she had come down, but she was sure they would mock her before the party was over. Oh, how stupid she must look...

"Whoa, I'd better go change!" somebody whispered in her ear, and Ginny felt shivers go down her spine and her heart do a little somersault behind her ribcage. Slowly, she turned around in the couch, and sure enough, Hermione was behind her, her elbows resting on the back of the couch, her head leaning on her arm, her mouth inches away from Ginny's hair.

She had put a very thin line of glitters on a very thin line of green eyeliner, and that was it. Hermione didn't need any more makeup to be pretty; even her lips were naturally of a nice shade of baby pink. Ginny smiled stupidly (she was sure that she looked stupid) at the same time she felt her entire body freezing and turning blazing hot. They were so close she could see herself in Hermione's eyes.

She gulped down, wanting to say something, but then Hermione stood up and Ginny forgot that that thing in her mouth was actually capable of making sounds.

"You look stunning, Ginny," Hermione said without a trace of embarrassment, smiling broadly down at her gaping friend.

"What about you!" Ginny croaked, then she blushed crimson and hastily turned back to the chimney, hoping the fire in her cheeks could make her ignite here and then. The way Harry suddenly glanced at both of them over his shoulder, smiling, didn't make Ginny feel any better.

Then Hermione's legs walked in front of her, naked despite the April chill, and Ginny had to use all of her willpower not to reach out and caress Hermione's left knee as it passed her. Hermione flopped graciously down next to her, one arm coming to rest behind the younger girl's shoulders.

"Really?" she asked Ginny with a delighted smile. "I tried to do the best with the little I had. But then I thought 'Why bother?', after all, it's just the twins. Not like it was your birthday or anything," she ended, looking straight into Ginny's eyes.

Ginny's insides liquefied and fell to the bottom of her stomach with a soft splash.

Hermione wasn't showing any sign of self-consciousness, and she didn't seem to realize that her words had very nearly given Ginny a heart-attack. Even Harry had turned his head around again, looking slightly surprised.

Ginny turned her head back to the fire, and to Harry, trying her hardest not to gasp, but breathe. She meant her birthday...yes, that's it, you stupid! She was still talking to herself, so "yours" meant "hers".

"I guess if it had been yours, I'd have borrowed something from Lavender, too!" Hermione said just then, laughing slightly. Ginny turned back to her, thinking that she was maybe talking to Harry (she almost laughed, thinking of Harry in Lavender's clothes...hey, how does she know I'm wearing her clothes?), but Hermione was still looking at her, still smiling her innocent smile.

I don't know what to say, I don't know what to say...please somebody save me!! Ginny thought faintly, thinking that her best option might be to run away. She didn't know why such a simple conversation was making her feel so panicked, but it was. If Hermione said another single thing about getting dressed up for Ginny while looking at the latter with such a sweet (almost seducing...) smile, Ginny knew she would faint.

Just at that moment, they all heard the familiar thumping sound of Ron coming down the stairs, and Ginny swore to herself to be nice with him all week. She turned around in the couch to look at him, and rolled her eyes. He wasn't dressed up either, of course. Not that she expected him to wear his dress robes or anything, but a simple white shirt would have been better than his old maroon jumper, cold dormitories or not.

He walked straight to the chimney, looking very happy, then stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of Hermione's and Ginny's attire. His cheeks flushed imperceptibly, his eyes seemingly stuck on Hermione's knees (Ginny found it very disturbing that her brother and herself seemed to have the same fetishes), then croaked something about the both of them looking very fancy, and finally turned his back on them, sitting down on the carpet, right beside Harry, whose amused smile didn't look so much amused, really, than annoyed.

"You'll never understand the joys of dressing up!" Hermione called to him, laughing brightly.

Ginny, who was still looking straight ahead, didn't so much pay attention to Ron's blushing profile than to the way Harry didn't look away from the fire. Ginny felt she could almost see his back tensing under his clothes, but she thought she might have been exaggerating. After all, she still had no tangible proof that anything was happening between her brother and her ex-crush.

But then, Ron leaned towards Harry (even though they were already sitting so close, it looked as if their bodies were joined) and whispered something in his ear, and Harry turned to him and giggled, and Ginny this time was absolutely certain that she wasn't imagining the happy flush on Harry's cheeks. She admitted she might have been making up the sparkles behind his glasses, though. But--

Ginny almost gasped when she felt something tugging at her hair; and she knew without having to look (thank Merlin!) that it was Hermione's hand. Hermione is playing with my hair...Hermione. Is. Playing. With. My. Hair!! Then soft fingers accidentally brushed against the pale skin of her neck and Ginny tensed, feeling her throat closing up. This wouldn't be any good, she knew it. So even though all she really wanted to do was to turn around and kiss Hermione with all the fervour she had in her heart, Ginny bolted from the couch, then looked embarrassed, her cheeks bright red as usual, and muttered that she was going to see where the twins were. Hermione made to stand up, but to her surprise (and Ron's), Harry beat her to it, silencing her question with a mere look. He stepped out of the Common Room after Ginny, leaving two very perplexed (and faintly disappointed) friends behind him.

*~*~*

"Ginny...Ginny!...damnit Ginny, wait!"

Ginny finally stopped, rolling her eyes up; she didn't turn around, merely waited for Harry to catch up with her.

"What did she do this time?" Harry asked. He stepped in front of her, looking decided not to move before he had gotten his answer. But the look Ginny threw him made him flinch a little. For the very first time, he realized that she and Ron weren't siblings for nothing. The fire in Ginny's hair was now burning in her eyes, and when she spat her answer at him, Harry almost stepped back.

"What's it to do with you?"

"Uh...well, nothing, but--"

Ginny stepped around him, starting to walk again.

"Oh c'mon Ginny, you're still my friend!" Harry called after her.

"We've barely spoken to each other three times in our entire lives," Ginny said loudly, not turning back. "You just want to be let in on hot lesbian kisses!"

Harry blushed to the root of his hair, knowing Ginny wasn't completely off the mark. But he had another reason, too; one he'd rather not acknowledge himself quite just yet.

Before he could try to come up with anything to say, Ginny turned on her heels and walked back to him, looking embarrassed and not meeting Harry's eyes.

"She played with my hair," she mumbled, staring at the paved floor.

"...uh?"

"She played with my hair," Ginny said again. "Y'know, like..."

Harry outstretched his hand and twirled a strand of Ginny's long hair around his fingers. "Like that?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yup," Ginny answered, then added, feeling decidedly stupid, "She's never done that before."

Harry's hand let go of Ginny's hair. "And that's why you ran away?"

Ginny's head snapped up and this time Harry did take a step back. But to his surprise, the scowl turned into a small smile. "I know I'm being very stupid, but if you'd be so kind as not point it out..." she said curtly, and her smile grew wider.

Harry sighed in relief and smiled back.

"Ohh, are we interrupting a special moment?"

Harry looked over Ginny's shoulder and Ginny turned around, facing the approaching twins.

"Care to help?" Fred asked, carrying two bags filled to the brim with too many things to be counted.

"Did you leave anything in the shops?" Ginny asked, her eyes widening. George only grinned, handing her one handle of his bag, which left her with no other option than going back to face Hermione. Not exactly what she had planned, but she guessed she shouldn't have run away in the first place. Why she didn't just stay put and enjoyed what Hermione was doing was, frankly, beyond her. But it seemed that if in her dreams Hermione's whole being made her feel voluptuous and beautiful, in real life any of Hermione's touch turned her into a nervous wreck.

*~*~*

Ginny had slowly slipped down the couch while Hermione and the twins were cleaning up, so that she was now lying on it on her side, curled up and half-asleep. The party had been a success, and the twins had surpassed themselves, obviously deciding that this was the perfect occasion to "test the market" with their future shop-products. Ginny and Ron were long past reminding them that their mother would sooner say that Sirius Black was mature and trustworthy than allow the twins to waste their time in such a precarious career. Who knew, maybe they would manage to make her understand. The slight problem with Molly was that even though she was the most stubborn person her children knew, they had inherited that very same quality from her. It made for interesting debates back home, to say the least.

Ginny smiled groggily and curled up more, too tired to even tug her skirt down to her knees. Not that it would warm her up much anyway. She listened to the voices of her siblings and friends, and the soft clinging noise of glasses put together in a basket, unable, through her dreamlike thoughts, to make out any particular conversation. She liked the noises; it was like a lullaby. Often, she would be the last one to leave a classroom, because she'd have been listening to the noises of the students packing their things and walking away, and forgotten to do the same. It often threatened to happen in Potions, with the sound of water running and cauldrons bumping loudly against everything, and the little fairy-like tinkles of test tubes carefully put back in their racks, but the fear of getting stuck with Snape all alone always made her spring to action soon enough.

"Giiiinny..." a soft voice whispered right next to her ear. She wondered why everybody was always saying her name. She didn't remember having to ever call Harry or Hermione's names... Her eyes drowsily fluttered open and she almost gasped when facing Hermione's mellow ones. Soft discreet tender smile, lips so pink and inviting, cheeks slightly flushed from the laughs and the beer. What if I leaned up right now and kissed her? Ginny wondered, but without much conviction. She was far too sleepy right now to even think of moving a muscle, no matter how sweet the reward. "Time to go to bed," Hermione said, gently tucking a strand of Ginny's flaming hair behind her ear. She didn't seem to notice the shiver that went through Ginny's body.

Ginny didn't even care to answer. She was perfectly fine on that couch, she didn't see why she'd have to move. She was probably asleep anyway; an assumption which only grew stronger when Hermione started to softly caress her hair, gazing at her patiently. This is the best dream EVER, then...Ginny thought, and let her eyes fall shut again. Just let her keep on doing that, please...please, please, pleeeeaaase...

"Ginny..." Hermione's voice was tinged with amusement. "I think you'll be better off in your bed..."

"Too sleepy...fine here..." Ginny mumbled.

Then Hermione's hand was gone, and Ginny was quite sure that Hermione herself was so. But she could still hear her voice not far away, and Harry's voice too. She vaguely heard Hermione talk to her again, and then arms slipped under her, and everything blacked out.

*~*~*

She came back to consciousness - she wasn't sure she had really been sleeping - in her bed, in her nightgown, surrounded by warmth and...well!, no, not darkness. She tried to get her eyes to focus and realized that the drapes in front of her weren't shut, and there was the soft golden light of a single candle surrounding her side of the bed. There was someone moving out of her scope of vision. And then she realized her bedspread had been changed. And on closer inspection, it wasn't her nightgown either. Just when she was about to prop herself up to take a look around, the someone suddenly came into view. It was Hermione.

But it wasn't just Hermione. It was Hermione changing clothes. Ginny almost choked up but somehow managed to stay perfectly quiet. She was dreaming. Obviously.

The soft rustling sound of clothes discarded was filling her ears. The classy white shirt was already sliding down and off, uncovering soft skin, honey-coloured by the light of the candle, and now the embroidered dark cami followed, up and away. Plain white bra covering round mounds, and a waist even slimmer than Ginny had thought. Slender fingers unfolding a skirt, parting the curtains covering two slim and smooth legs - Ginny couldn't breathe anymore. She felt ashamed, she knew she shouldn't spy on Hermione like that, but she couldn't stop. She had only to reach out her arm and maybe the tip of her fingers could brush against Hermione's thigh...

She had fallen in love with Hermione, true enough. And she had dreamt of kissing her as well. But she hadn't realized before the desire boiling inside of her. She hadn't even thought about touching Hermione, caressing her...(tasting her) She had never felt that for Harry either. Sure, she wasn't completely innocent nor prude. She had already discovered and done something in the privacy of her bed that she would be ashamed to talk about to anyone - something that was beginning to feel so nice (even though she kept stopping herself before she could lose control, frightened to go and explore what could lie beyond the soft warmth of shy pleasure) and yet, somehow, quite wrong. Something she felt should stay hers and hers alone, even though she couldn't help but wonder if other girls did it too.

But she had never yet felt sexual attraction. And now, with Hermione's almost naked body standing so close to her, unconscious it was being spied on, and therefore unashamed, Ginny felt a weird sensation spinning around in her stomach, spreading down to her most private treasure.

She held her breath in when Hermione's bra flew away. Round and firm and blossoming...As tempting as an ice cream to Ginny's greedy mouth and tongue. She suddenly felt scared of herself and closed her eyes shut, soon hearing the soft caress of Hermione's nightgown covering her (beautiful, wonderful, precious) body.

The mattress shifted as Hermione got into bed.

Ginny's nose suddenly refused to inhale more oxygen and her lungs closed up, and she panicked, her hands getting moist and her eyes flashing open against her will. She sat up with a strangled gasp and coughed in her fist, her eyes filling with angry tears.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked softly, and her voice was caressing Ginny's ear again, and her hand was resting on her back, between her shoulder blades, and Ginny closed her eyes and didn't care about the lonely tear gliding down her cheek. Her coughs subsided.

"Ginny?" Hermione's voice was worried and Ginny trembled when cold fingers brushed against her cheek, wiping the tear away. Hermione's hand slid down to Ginny's lower back, so low her fingers could feel the thin border of Ginny's underwear.

"It's okay," Ginny croaked out, hearing her voice but not conscious of forming words. "Just choked on thin air." She took a deep breath and looked up, faced with the velvet hanging at the foot of Hermione's bed. She could see Hermione's face in the corner of her right eye, though. The sight was too tempting to be ignored.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," Hermione whispered, biting on the inside of her lip. "I did try to be discreet."

Oh, you were. Must be my bastardly brain who decided to wake me up. Ginny felt her eyes watering again and shook her head, willing the tears away. She didn't know why she was feeling so sad. Maybe she wasn't feeling sad at all. It was an emotion she couldn't define, but it was so strong that her body had to react to it, else it would implode.

She braced herself and finally turned to look at Hermione. You've faced Voldemort. You can face her. You're in Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake!

She knew it would be a mistake. But it was just too hard, too hard to expect her not to do it.

She didn't see the shock on Hermione's face because she closed her eyes, but she felt Hermione's lips opened in a silent "oh" as she pressed her lips against them, and she felt the hotness of Hermione's cheek under her trembling fingers, and then she couldn't feel anymore because her body was indeed imploding, imploding with joy and the fire flowing down her throat to her stomach to her loins, burning and scorching and filling her, and she couldn't breathe but she didn't care this time, because Hermione's lips were just as soft as she thought they would be, and it was her first kiss, and she was sure it was Hermione's first kiss, and it was all too much. Too perfect, too scary, too wrong, too much.

She was trembling from head to toes when she softly leaned away, her eyelids fluttering open just a millimetre or two, her sad blue eyes gazing down at Hermione's lap. It was all ruined, but she already knew it had been worth it. She would never forget Hermione's lips. Ever.

Everything was silence as minutes stretched by, the two girls frozen in place by an ethereal spell. Ginny couldn't bring herself to look up, was too afraid of what she might find written in Hermione's features. Would she be angry? Would she be shocked? Or worse, disgusted?

"That was...uh...unexpected," a soft wavering voice finally whispered.

Ginny looked up, not even recognizing Hermione's voice, so different from usual. Hermione's cheeks were flushed with pink and she had an awkward, shy smile on her lips, eyes twinkling with surprise and something Ginny really couldn't fathom.

Ginny's lungs filled with sweet air and she felt dizzy for a second or two, before murmuring: "You're not mad?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No, of course not. I just...it's just...I didn't know."

Ginny grimaced helplessly. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be," Hermione said, looking lost in thoughts even though she was staring right into Ginny's eyes. She paused, then asked, "Is that why you kept avoiding me?"

Ginny almost laughed, but just nodded. Suddenly everything seemed so silly. She sighed, thinking about the right words to say. She knew that Hermione wasn't in love with her. Just as she knew Hermione wasn't thinking about kissing her back. But it didn't seem to matter so much right then. What mattered was that Hermione was there and she wasn't angry and maybe that kiss would be enough to sustain Ginny's fantasies for a little while. Staying friends was what mattered the most. But she couldn't think up the right way to say all that.

She glanced up and saw Hermione chewing on her lip, brows furrowed, and smiled. Visibly, she wasn't the only one having troubles.

"It doesn't have to change anything," she finally whispered.

Hermione looked distraught for an instant, then nodded. Her eyes widened, though, when Ginny raised the covers and turned away from her, her feet gingerly meeting the cold floor. Her hand reached out all by itself and she watched with wonder as it closed around Ginny's arm, trying to make her stay.

Ginny glanced back at her, and the moonlight was caressing her face and her hair looked like a warm blanket and her lips were so soft--"Trust me, it's better if I go to my room," she whispered, and Hermione blinked and let go of Ginny's arm, feeling lightheaded.

Ginny smiled down at her and padded out of the room and down to her own dormitory. That night she closed her eyes and thought about the kiss and Hermione's body, and she didn't even realize she had been touching that secret place of hers before her body tensed and shook, feeling alive under the caress of Hermione's borrowed nightgown.