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Originally posted: June 6, 2005

Thanks to jedirita and qurinas for the betas! 

Links:  My LJ and Pornish_Pixies


Hermione opened one eye. Ginny's hair reflected the moonlight that filtered through the window, and her eyes were dark and wide. "Hmmm?"

"Did you hear that?" Ginny cocked her head to one side, as if listening.

"Hear what?" Hermione yawned.

"That noise. It sounded like… moaning."

"I was asleep," Hermione replied.

Ginny rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "I think one of my brothers has a girl up there."

"That's im--"

"Sssh!" Ginny said. "Listen."

Hermione listened, but heard nothing other than the Burrow's ghost snoring softly. She was about to say as much when she noticed Ginny's loose nightgown had slipped a bit.

Ginny had one of those figures most girls would kill for -- especially her breasts. Hermione had been jealous when Ginny sprouted them overnight, while Hermione remained hopelessly flat-chested -- despite being a year older.

One of those breasts was straining against Ginny's gown now. Round flesh glowed in the moonlight, seeming impossibly soft and smooth. The worn fabric just barely covered a taut nipple, dark and visible beneath the thin floral print. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away.

Ginny stretched again and the fabric moved back into place.

"I suppose you're right," she said, closing her eyes. "It would've been funny, though."

Hermione's gaze shifted up to Ginny's face. Her friend's full lips were slightly parted and looked dark in the dim light. The contrast with her pale skin was remarkable.

Hermione closed her eyes. Boys were always going crazy over Ginny because of the way she looked. Hermione was pretty enough, but next to Ginny, she was practically invisible.


"Pass it, you wanker!" Ginny screamed. Her broom hovered in the air as she waved her arms at George. Hermione shifted on her borrowed broom, watching carefully. She wasn't a good keeper, especially not against Ginny.

Ginny's bare feet crossed at the ankles in a demonstration of her relaxed confidence. Her short cut-offs had frayed in the wash, making her legs look even longer.

Hermione hated her own legs.

George passed the quaffle at last, and Ginny caught it in a smooth motion, redirecting it toward the homemade hoop Hermione was guarding. She dove, but too late -- the quaffle whizzed past and through the hoop. She winced.

"What the fuck?" Ron shouted from across the makeshift pitch. Hermione replied with a rude gesture. If he wanted a good keeper on his team, why didn't he just do it? Honestly.

A steam whistle sounded from the house, relieving Hermione of further torment. If she was lucky, no one would want to play after lunch.

Harry slung an arm around Hermione's shoulder as they headed for the house. "Don't worry," he whispered, bumping her ear with the tip of his nose. "You know how he gets."

Hermione grinned at him and slid an arm around his waist.

Ginny streaked by, laughing as Fred tried to hit her with the quaffle. She caught it and held it over her head, sticking her tongue out at him. Her thin white cotton shirt rose as she did, revealing a wide strip of freckled bare belly. She turned and walked ahead of them, hips swaying with her long strides.

Hermione glanced sidelong at Harry and saw that his eyes were firmly fixed on Ginny's arse. Hermione couldn't blame him for that -- Ginny was curvy, with a small waist and wide hips. She was just plump enough to round out all the angles, which made the short cut-offs tight in all the right places.

Hermione's own arse was scrawny in comparison. She sighed. Boys never looked at her like that.

Mrs. Weasley had set a table outside for lunch under a shady tree. She hummed as she arranged items on a worn tablecloth, happy to have so many of her children home at once. Fred and George didn't visit often enough, she had complained to anyone who would listen, now that they had a flat above their shop in Diagon Alley. Yesterday Mrs. Weasley had hinted that they should let her make a few changes, as it was in dire need of a 'woman's touch'.

"What makes you think that flat has never seen a woman's touch?" George had smirked.

She hadn't spoken to him for an hour.

The table was covered with an assortment of sandwiches and salads, with homemade ice cream for dessert. Mrs. Weasley'd had to recharm the ice cream maker every half hour all morning to make enough ice cream for the whole group.

Conversation was light while they ate, though Ron pouted on one end of the table, still angry about losing the game. Hermione ignored him, listening instead to George's stories about their recent product research. Mrs. Weasley had gone in the house, so the conversation had turned to magical sex aids, which they were considering carrying in the shop.

"Dildos, that sort of thing?" Ginny asked.

"And a lot more," Fred grinned. "You'd be surprised what sort of items are out there. And what the market is for them."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Need a tester for those by any chance?"

Harry choked on his lemonade, and George and Fred exchanged a smug glance. Hermione giggled, unable to help herself.

"I think we can manage well enough on our own," George replied with a wink.

After they finished eating, everyone talked of napping the rest of the summer day away. Ginny spread a blanket nearby and sprawled on it, face turned to the sun, stretching like a cat. "Merlin, it's so lovely today," she said.

Fred and George were whispering to each other in that conspiratorial fashion that made Hermione's prefect alarm bells ring. George slipped away, and Hermione frowned.

"So what're we gonna do this afternoon?" Harry asked, elbowing her.

Hermione shrugged. As long as it didn't involve Quidditch, she wasn't--

"EEEEEEE! Mother fucker!!!"

Hermione's head jerked around to see Ginny sitting up on her blanket, dripping wet. George stood behind her with an empty pail in hand, snickering.

And then Ginny stood, and everyone grew silent.

Ginny's white shirt was soaked through, and she was wearing nothing underneath. The thin fabric clung to her breasts, and her nipples were stiff and dark from the chill of the water. She shook her head and water splattered from her hair practically in slow motion, crystals sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.

She may has well have been naked.

Hermione glanced around to see all of Ginny's brothers staring at her with expressions of rapt horror. Harry's mouth was hanging open. No one was moving, or even speaking.

Hermione stepped forward and grabbed Ginny's wrist, tugging her toward the house. "Come on," she hissed.

"What?" Ginny asked. But she followed, staring defiantly back at her brothers. "What's their problem?" she whispered to Hermione.

"I'll tell you in a minute," Hermione replied, most definitely not looking down at Ginny's exposed chest.

She tugged Ginny up the stairs to her bedroom, past snickering portraits of Weasley ancestors, past Mrs. Weasley, who thankfully didn't look up from her contemplation of a large dead bug on the floor -- and pulled the door closed behind them.

"What?" Ginny repeated, hands on her hips.

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione turned her to face the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. It gave her a wolf-whistle.

"Oh, my," Ginny said, and then began to laugh.

"It isn't funny," Hermione remarked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Did you see the look on George's face?" Ginny grinned. "He had no idea that his little prank would backfire so spectacularly."


"You should have let me alone," Ginny continued, pulling the shirt tight around her chest and turning to view her body from a better angle. "I'd like to have let them squirm a bit."


Ginny turned to Hermione and gave her a long look. "Oh, please. They're my brothers. They've seen it before."

Hermione blinked at her. "They have?"

"Well, not lately. But still, it serves them right. I hope they all got stiffies. Maybe they'll be traumatized for the rest of their lives."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say in response to that.

Ginny's hands moved up to cup her breasts. "Do you think they're lopsided?"

Hermione felt her mouth go dry. "W-what?"

"Lopsided," Ginny repeated. "I think the left one is a bit smaller. Feel." She turned and took Hermione's hands in hers and pressed them against her breasts.

Hermione swallowed. Ginny's breasts were large and plump in her palms. "I don't know," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "The shirt's wet… it's hard to tell."

"Oh, right," Ginny said. She batted Hermione's hands away and pulled the wet shirt over her head. She turned back to Hermione and smiled expectantly.

Hermione blinked at her. "I…. uh…"

"Go on," Ginny said, stepping closer. Her hair fell into her eyes, and she looked up at Hermione through her dark red eyelashes. "Are they?"

"I…" Hermione began. Her palms were sweating. She looked away. "I don't know."

Ginny caught one of Hermione's hands and pressed it against rounded flesh. Hermione looked at her own fingers, dark against Ginny's pale skin. The weight of Ginny's breast in her hand was surprisingly pleasant. Hermione squeezed a little and the nipple an inch from her finger hardened to a nub. She caught her breath.

"Go on," Ginny whispered. "Touch the other one."

Hermione jerked her hand away as if burnt. She felt her face flush, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"It's all right," Ginny said, reaching out to stroke Hermione's hair. "You've been staring at my tits for months. I figured you wanted to touch them."

Hermione gasped, then fled the room, not slowing down until the boys were in sight again.


"Well, this has certainly been a titillating conversation," Ginny grinned, stretching, "but I think I'm ready to turn in."

George laughed and threw a pillow at her head.

Ginny had been joking about the water prank all evening, taking every opportunity to make her brothers feel guilty about it. Fred and George had finally conceded the humor in the incident.

Hermione turned to Ron to see that he had a strange look on his face. Harry did as well, though his didn't seem to convey the same level of discomfort as Ron's. In fact, he had been watching Ginny's every move for the entire evening,

Hermione sighed. Ron was scarred for life by a mere glimpse of his sister's breasts, but he had barely noticed Hermione had them too. Harry hung on Ginny's every move, but hadn't even looked up when Hermione had stepped on his foot earlier. What did she have to do to get their attention?

"Good night," Ginny said, standing. "Are you coming, Hermione?"

Hermione had managed to avoid being alone with Ginny all evening after the uncomfortable incident earlier. "In a bit," she replied. "I'm not tired just yet."

Ginny shrugged and disappeared up the stairs.

George elbowed Fred and they exchanged a look. "I know what I'm dreaming about tonight," Fred said.

"You're disgusting," George replied with a wicked grin. Harry snickered.

Hermione leaned against Ron. Boys, she thought. Is that all they think about? Ron shifted uncomfortably.

Fifteen minutes later, all the boys had gone to bed, and Hermione was alone. She sat on the couch for ten minutes more before going upstairs.

She pushed the door open as slowly as she could, listening. The room was dark, save for the moonlight coming through the window. Ginny's breathing was even and shallow. Hermione closed the door behind her and changed into her nightgown. She slipped into the bed beside Ginny, trying not to shift the mattress.

Ginny wriggled and sighed, but didn't seem to awaken. Hermione exhaled and settled on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She wasn't tired at all. If she were at home, she would have gone into her parents' home office and surfed on the internet, or read a book -- anything. She sighed.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable today," Ginny whispered.

Hermione stiffened. "I… no. Of course not."

Ginny turned over to face her. "I just… I thought you…"

Hermione blinked at her. "What?"

Ginny bit her lip and paused. "How far have you gone with a boy?"

Hermione felt herself blushing, but she was grateful for a change of topic. "Well… I haven't had sex, but… I've done other things."

Ginny grinned. "Me too. Have you ever sucked a boy off?"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "Well… once."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "It wasn't my brother, was it?"

Hermione tried to suppress the grin that sprang to her lips. "No. He doesn't even know I'm a girl!"

Ginny snickered. "I worry for that one. Who was it then?"

Hermione pressed her face into the pillow and mumbled the name.

"What was that?" Ginny laughed.

"Neville Longbottom," Hermione said.

"Really?" Ginny giggled. "I hear he's absolutely hung." Hermione burst into giggles and buried her face again. "Well?" Ginny poked her in the stomach with a finger. "Details, please."

"I don't really have much to compare to, but I'd say--" She held her fingers a distance apart.

Ginny's eyes widened. "When did this happen?"

"Remember the Gryffindor Christmas party this past year? We both had a bit much of that punch Seamus made, and he kissed me, and… well, it sort of just happened."

"Wasn't he going out with Susan Bones then?"

Hermione frowned. "Yes, which is why nothing more happened after that. I still feel terrible about it." She rolled onto her side to face Ginny. "What about you?"

"I did Dean. And he did me."

It was Hermione's turn to wrinkle her nose. "He did you? Wasn't it disgusting?"

Ginny's expression was incredulous. "Are you joking?"

"No," Hermione replied. "I didn't like it."

Ginny giggled. "Then he didn't do it properly! It's brilliant, you know."

"Really?" Hermione was skeptical. When Neville had ventured down there, he'd slurped and sucked until she was numb. She'd not enjoyed it at all.

"You should let a girl show you how," Ginny said. "Then you can jump my brother and teach him how to get you off."

"A girl?" Hermione repeated. She had little interest in Ron anymore, but that fact seemed unimportant at the moment.

Ginny gave her a quizzical smile. "Haven't you ever messed about with a girl?"

Hermione felt her stomach drop. "I--"

"I suppose that's a 'no'," Ginny continued. "You do realize it's a boarding school you attend?"

"Yes, but--"

"You spend far too much time with Harry and Ron," Ginny sighed. "You've not learned anything about sex, have you?"

"That's not true!" Hermione protested.

Ginny pressed a finger against Hermione's lips. "Sshhh," she whispered. "My brothers will hear you."

Hermione stared at her, eyes wide. Ginny's face shimmered in the dim light, as if she'd applied the sort of glittery lotion Hermione's Muggle cousins favored. Ginny's lips were full and dark, almost beckoning. Hermione forced herself to blink.

"Do you want me to show you?" Ginny asked.

Hermione paused, uncertain how to respond. It was naughty, wasn't it? She'd fooled around with a cousin under the covers at night when she was little, and they'd got in trouble for it. It was dirty, her grandmother had said.

Then Ginny kissed her, and Hermione's mind went blank. Ginny's lips against hers were softer than any boy's, and Ginny's tongue was gentle, not harsh. She didn't swallow Hermione's mouth like the few boys she'd kissed had tried to do; she teased instead.

That tongue circled her own, and Hermione made a sound embarrassingly like a moan. Ginny grinned against her lips, and then a hand wormed its way under Hermione's nightgown and cupped a small breast. Hermione squirmed, embarrassed.

"Don't," Ginny whispered, pushing Hermione onto her back. She tugged the nightgown up to expose Hermione's chest to the moonlight. "They come in all sizes, you know."

"But yours are so beautiful," Hermione said.

"They're big," Ginny grinned. "But that's not all it's made out to be." She traced one of Hermione's nipples with a finger, then leaned forward and licked it.

Hermione gasped.

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "I like it when they do this." She took the nipple into her mouth and sucked gently, then flicked her tongue across it. Hermione felt something twitch deep in her groin.

Ginny worked her way to the other breast, then licked a path down Hermione's belly. It was a moment before Hermione realized what her destination was. Ginny pushed her thighs apart and settled on her belly between them. Hermione's head popped up, startled.

Ginny grinned at her. "Trust me -- you'll like this." With that, her head disappeared from view.

Hermione squenched her eyes shut, trying not to think about what was happening. Warm breath against the sensitive folds of skin between her thighs made her breath catch. She could feel her pussy swelling almost uncomfortably, aching in a way she had only felt before when she touched herself. She let her knees fall apart, then felt the feathery touch of Ginny's fingers against her thighs, moving inwards.

She held her breath. Something touched her lightly, pulled away, then touched her again. It wriggled a bit, skimming the surface, even as she wanted it to press into her.

It was Ginny's tongue. Hermione covered her face with her hands.

The tongue continued its gentle movements: light flicks that set her nerves on fire, infuriatingly dry against her swollen sex, darting around everywhere but the place she wanted it the most.

She felt something drip from her vagina down, tickling the skin below, trailing over her arsehole. Her eyes flew open. She was so wet she was dripping? She thought she ought to be mortified, but then Ginny's lips closed around her and she stopped thinking altogether.

She wasn't sure what Ginny was doing down there, what was lips and tongue and fingers and nose, but she didn't care. She pulled her knees apart, opening herself up, wanting that mouth to be closer. Ginny alternated between gentle, firm suction and flicking her tongue against Hermione's clitoris; the suction building tension until her nerves were wound tight and her hips were pressing up against Ginny's face, the licking releasing the knot in her cunt like a valve, making her hips sink back into the mattress.

A finger swirled at the opening of her vagina, collecting wetness, then gently pressed inside. Hermione had been gasping before, but the sensation of something inside her intensified everything. She whimpered when the finger pressed up inside her, while Ginny's mouth continued its push and pull.

She felt the orgasm coming from far away, almost as if she were watching it from outside herself. Her extremities tingled as blood rushed into her groin, through her head, roaring in her ears. She heard herself gasp, then cry out when it finally washed over her.


"Good morning," Hermione said, taking her seat at the table for breakfast. She looked up to see Fred and George staring at her. Harry and Ron wouldn't even look at her.

"It is a good morning, isn't it?" Ginny replied, passing her the platter of toast. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I certainly slept well."

Fred made a coughing sound and stuffed a piece of plain toast in his mouth.

"Like a baby," Hermione added. She elbowed Ron, who was studying his own empty plate intently. "What's with you?"

Ron looked up at her, then to his sister, and blushed. Next to him, Harry's face was carefully blank.

Hermione thought she ought to have been annoyed by their strange behavior, or at least embarrassed -- but she wasn't. They were uncomfortable, and it was their problem. Not hers. She'd spent far too much time worried about what they thought of her, whether or not they noticed her, if they even saw her as a girl.

Hermione spread jam on her toast and grinned. "Anyone up for Quidditch this morning?"

"With you as keeper?" Ron snorted.

"I'll play on Ginny's team," Hermione replied. "It's not like you have any chance of scoring, after all."

George snorted tea through his nose, Ron turned impossibly redder, and Ginny rewarded Hermione with an outrageous wink.