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Shirts and Scarves

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The sun hadn’t yet risen when Ginny let herself into her flat. The international Portkey had left her disorientated, and she stumbled as she moved through the dark flat to her bedroom. With one hand digging in her pocket for her shrunken luggage, she almost fell over when she opened the door more forcefully than she realised, following the momentum.

“Bloody fucking timezones,” she muttered, tossing her shrunken luggage in the direction of her dresser before stumbling over to the bed.

She didn’t bother undressing, nor removing her shoes. She reached the end of the bed by bumping into it and crawled onto it before flopping face down with a groan.

All in all, things wouldn’t have been so bad if she had been in Australia for longer before the Quidditch match. Instead, she’d barely had time to adjust to the time difference before playing an exhausting game only to be sent off home the day after.

At least her next game in the season was on home soil.

Next to her, the sheets shifted and the bed moved. The was a soft, humming sound, and then an arm snaked over her back and a body nudged up close.

“Welcome back,” Pansy mumbled.

Ginny hummed back, turning just enough to curl an arm over her and inhale the familiar scent of her hair products.

She would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for a little niggle starting up in the back of her mind and growing until she blinked her eyes open. All she saw in the dark room was a shadow in front of her.


Rather than the wand still in her pocket lighting up, one on the nightstand did instead.

“Ugh, no!” Pansy groaned, kicking out with her legs and trying to drag the covers over her head.

Ginny squinted until her tired eyes adjusted, then she surveyed her bed.

Pansy was unable to pull the covers any higher up to shield herself from the light while Ginny lay on top of them, and was now scowling with her eyes closed.

“You’re here,” Ginny said dumbly.

“I wish I wasn’t,” Pansy muttered.

It took another few moments for Ginny to remember she’d given Pansy a key not too long ago, before the season had started. She’d brushed off the meaningfulness of it by saying that once she started training she’d be late for everything and it would be easier for Pansy to come in and wait while she finished getting ready. Or drag her out of bed to make her get ready.

But she’d never actually used it.

The travel fatigue faded as she realised Pansy had let herself in to wait for her. She tried to remember what time she’d told Pansy she’d be back, but couldn’t. She’d never been good at wrapping her head around timezones, she’d probably given her the wrong time or day.

“Turn off the light, it’s too early,” Pansy said, tugging at the covers. Ginny moved until Pansy was able to tug it back invitingly. “Sleep.”

Ginny sat on the edge of the bed and started tugging off her shoes. “Some welcome,” she muttered before yawning.

Pansy only hummed sleepily. After getting her shoes off, and tossing her own wand onto the nightstand so it stopped digging into her uncomfortably, Ginny turned and looked at her. She already looked to be asleep again, face smoothed out and peaceful, obscured by a mess of hair. She was curled on her side now, knees almost up to her chest, partially covering a rude design on her shirt.

A rude design that looked familiar.

Ginny slid into the space beside her and pushed her knees down. Relaxed and loose, Pansy was easy to move, and Ginny realised she wasn’t imagining it. It was her shirt that Pansy was wearing.

“Come to bed,” Pansy muttered, reaching for her without even opening her eyes.

All thoughts of sleep vanished as Ginny’s mood brightened significantly.

This was too good.

“Is that my shirt?” she asked slowly, reaching out and gently prodding Pansy in the centre of her chest.

Pansy’s face scrunched up into a frown. She made an unintelligible sound and tried to tug Ginny closer.

Ginny avoided her grasp, her face splitting into a grin as she realised the raggedy pyjama bottoms Pansy was wearing were also hers.

“Oh ho ho, Miss Perfect Fashion, look at you now,” she teased, tucking at the rude shirt.

Pansy’s eyes snapped open. She blinked twice and then slapped Ginny’s hand away.

“You’re late. I didn’t bring anything to sleep in. It’s cold tonight.”

Ginny couldn’t restrain her grin. It was warm, and Pansy rarely wore anything to bed. She said as much in a gleeful tone.

Without responding, Pansy muttered, “Nox.”

There was a rustle in the dark, and Ginny felt around to find she had turned to face the opposite direction. A brief brush of fingertips against Pansy’s cheeks revealed a telling warmth.

Still grinning, Ginny pulled the covers up and slid in behind her.

“It’s neither cold nor do you wear anything to bed. That leaves—”


“—sentiment,” Ginny finished, finding and kissing the shell of her ear. “Is it because they smell like me? Oh, Pansy.”

For some time, Pansy was silent. Her body was tense and if Ginny touched her face again, she was sure it would be burning hot.

The silence didn’t bother her. She still felt warmed by the obvious meaning behind it. It was gratifying. She wasn’t sure Pansy would admit out loud that she missed her. She was so reticent about things like that.

But it was fine. Ginny was getting better and better at seeing it anyway.

“I missed you too,” she breathed, holding Pansy close and finally relaxing.

Some time later, when she was close to sleep, Pansy muttered, “I know, you stole my favourite scarf.”