Chapter Text
When Hermione Granger’s roommate yanked her out of bed on a random evening in April screaming that she was absolutely sick of her wasting her college experience, the only thing Hermione expected from the ordeal was to wake up the next morning with a hangover. But as she sat at a bar stool, finger running along the rim of her glass, Hermione wondered if maybe she should’ve fought harder to find an excuse to stay in.
It was nearing the end of the semester and Hermione had been trying to fit time into her schedule to study for her Child Psychopathology exam at the end of the week. Having to listen to her roommate question the makeup of Butterbeer was not going to help her keep her scholarship, she couldn’t help but snort inwardly at the thought.
Really though, whoever dubbed the name Butterbeer really needed to explain themselves. Truthfully, whoever had thought of the idea for the theme of this bar should have to explain themselves.
Hermione loved Halloween as much as the next person, but an all-year Halloween-themed bar? That was pushing it for Christ’s sake. All of the drinks were served in little cauldron cups, surely to go along with the name, The Leaky Cauldron. It all felt a bit contrived if you asked her. Hogwarts University’s campus was located about an hour outside of Salem, Massachusetts—in a town called Diagon—which seemed to really sell itself on being a town of magic. Though the town itself wasn’t established until well after the Salem witch trials, that fact seemed to matter only to Hermione.
Pansy’s voice pulled Hermione from her reverie. “Hermione you gotta try this, Blaise says it’s gross but I think he’s just being an ass.” Before Hermione could open her mouth to protest, Pansy pushed the mug into her hands, causing some of the golden liquid to slosh onto Hermione’s fingers.
On paper, Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson would never work as friends. Pansy was known to be an outspoken party girl who’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. It was a stark contrast to Hermione’s quiet, could-name-more-book-titles-than-friends demeanor. During the first few months of being roommates, Hermione had attempted to set some ground rules, which had quickly—and literally—been tossed out the window. As their screaming match turned to weeks of uncomfortable silence, Hermione realized one thing for certain: she had never met anyone, outside of her own mother, as stubborn as Pansy Parkinson.
All it took to reconcile their differences was one night freshman year when Pansy had locked herself out of their dorm. When Hermione found Pansy sitting outside of their room, tears streaming down her face, it didn’t matter at that moment if the two of them had been sworn enemies all semester, the only thing that mattered was ensuring that her roommate was okay. After a night full of tears, shared secrets, and wine coolers, both Hermione and Pansy seemed to find a confidant in one another and their friendship was cemented.
Hermione brought the cauldron mug to her lips and took a sip of the drink. It had taken all of three seconds before she was spitting it back out and shaking her head vehemently. “Fuck, fuck, ew.” Hermione coughed, bringing a hand to her mouth to wipe the remnants off. She quickly pushed the cup away, staring down at it as if it personally offended her, before turning her gaze to Pansy. “Blaise was right. This is foul.”
“I told you,” Blaise’s voice chimed in, stealing Pansy’s attention once again. The two of them began to bicker back and forth, leaving Hermione to roll her eyes and take another sip of her own drink to wash down the taste of Butterbeer. Blaise and Pansy had been together for as long as Hermione had known her, and although that meant she’d become immune to their constant arguing, it didn’t mean that she enjoyed it.
Taking a final sip of her Dirty Shirley, Hermione turned to Pansy and smacked her hands against her thighs. “Well, I’m going to be off.”
Pansy turned to Hermione and frowned. “What, no! Don’t leave.”
“Yeah, Pans, I’ve got that huge exam this week,” Hermione responded, earning an exaggerated eye roll from her roommate.
“Oh, lighten up, Hermione, you’ve been studying for that damn test all week.” Pansy’s voice was full of annoyance as she spoke, which only grated on Hermione’s nerves. It had been clear from the start that Pansy and Hermione took to their academics differently, though a more judgemental part of Hermione could hear her mother’s words that education majors ‘ seldom need to study’. Hermione didn’t want to minimize Pansy’s major, but sometimes she couldn’t help it.
A rebuttal was on the tip of her tongue, as a loud commotion interrupted, causing the trio’s heads to snap toward the door. Hermione’s eyes lingered as a group of people walked in, whooping and hollering, about what she didn’t know. Beside her, Pansy snickered. “Ugh, the softball team had a game today.” Pansy’s voice rang in Hermione’s ears as her eyes remained on the group of women sliding into a giant booth. As she stared at the group, her gaze landed on a red-headed woman, whose brown eyes seemed to find Hermione’s.
Breath catching in her throat, Hermione turned back to her friend. “Is that a problem?”
Pansy offered a shrug, grabbing Blaise’s bottle of beer and taking a sip. “No, it just seems that the bar gets rowdier when the team comes in to celebrate a win.” As Pansy handed her boyfriend his drink back, the two of them seemed to share a secret smile. “Though, softball players do know how to show you a good time.”
Quirking a brow, Hermione asked, “What do you mean?”
It was Blaise who responded this time, clearing his throat. “See that redhead over there,” Though he tipped his head, Hermione didn’t need to look over to know who he was talking about. Her stomach was still fluttering at the knowledge that she could feel her brown eyes on her periodically. “Pansy and I slept with her and I swear to God Pansy’s been in love with her ever since.”
Pansy smacked his arm. “You ass! I have not.” And just like that the two of them were arguing with one another again.
Hermione turned to the bar, wanting nothing more than a subject change. “Let’s order fries,” she said, pressing her cold fingers to her cheeks in an attempt to reduce her blush.
Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if that was why the woman was looking at her. Maybe she should do something to let the woman know that Pansy and Blaise were fair game? Hermione shook the thought from her mind.
The bartender dropped the basket of fries, causing Hermione’s eyes to light up. “Do you have any ranch?” she asked hopefully, only for the bartender to shake her head in apology. Feeling put out, Hermione ordered another drink, turning to see Pansy and Blaise giving each other conspiratorial looks. It wasn’t until Blaise started making his way towards the bathroom that Hermione clued herself into what was going on. Turning to Pansy, she grabbed her arm and glared. “You can’t leave me out here alone.”
Pansy looked at her before turning her head to where Blaise walked to. “I can’t just not follow him.”
“You could,” Hermione argued, pushing the basket of fries towards Pansy. “You could sit here with me and enjoy these fries and this time you forced me to spend with you.” She shoved a handful of fries in her mouth, not caring how she looked. She was starving and now Pansy was pissing her off.
Pansy bit her lip as she pulled herself from Hermione’s grip; at Hermione’s threatening look Pansy frowned. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” The dark-haired woman gave Hermione one last sympathetic look before turning on her heel and discreetly making her way into the bathroom.
Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to the front of the bar. Screw Pansy. She was the worst friend anyone could ever have.
What did she do to deserve this? Hermione thought bitterly, shoving another handful of fries into her mouth. Forcing her to go out and ditching her was one thing, but to leave Hermione alone eating fries at an establishment that didn’t even have ranch was simply despicable.
Just as Hermione was pulling her phone out and googling how to change the locks on a dorm room door, someone stepped up next to her, their arm brushing against hers. Out of instinct, she had an apology already forming on her lips, “Sorry, I-” But her words fell flat when her gaze landed on the same red-headed woman who had caught her eye. Her eyes widened as they landed on the woman who seemed to be standing close to Hermione on purpose, given that she seemed to be staring only at her.
“Drinking anything good?” the woman asked, placing her forearms on the countertop and leaning into the bar. She turned her head towards Hermione’s cup, smiling as she noticed the cherries in her cup. “Cherries?”
Hermione couldn’t stop the heat that rose onto her cheeks and reached for her cauldron mug, taking a nervous sip. “It’s a dirty Shirley,” Hermione answered as she set the cup down. “I know it’s a bit of a silly drink but I’ve always loved cherry flavored things. I'd always sneak candies when I was younger and I’d eat so much that my tongue would stay dyed for days. It always pissed my parents off since they’re dentists, my dad would threaten to scrape the taste buds off of my tongue.” Hermione shuddered at the memory, freezing when she heard the woman next to her laugh. “Crap.” Hermione screwed her eyes shut, feeling embarrassed. “Sometimes I never know when to shut my mouth.”
“Don’t worry about it Cherry.” The woman waved Hermione off, offering her a pretty smile. It wouldn’t take a dentist to see how white the woman’s teeth were, Hermione found herself staring at her smile longer than she certainly should have. “Besides, it’s nice to hear that Lavender is capable of making people drinks she hasn’t spit in.”
“What?!” Hermione asked, feeling suddenly nauseous. Her eyes darted over to the bartender who was glaring over at Ginny.
“Oh no.” Ginny laughed, placing a soft hand on Hermione’s wrist. “You’re fine, Cherry.” She seemed to think to herself for a moment. “Well, unless you’ve got an idiot brother who dated Lavender and then cheated on her.”
Hermione shook her head, even more confused. This woman was touchy to strangers, and Hermione wondered why.
“Oh, just me then. Looks like you're safe.” The woman held her hand out to Hermione. “I’m Ginny,”
Gingerly, Hermione took Ginny’s hand, offering her a shy smile. “I’m Hermione,”
Ginny’s hand remained in Hermione’s for a moment longer than she’d thought necessary for an introduction. But, strangely enough, Hermione didn’t find herself minding. There was something about the woman who so boldly introduced herself that intrigued Hermione. As Ginny pulled back, she let her fingers trail along Hermione’s skin. “You know, Cherry,” Ginny started, bringing her hand to Hermione’s cauldron cup and plucking out a stemmed cherry. “I’ve been called the master of being able to tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue.”
She brought the cherry to her mouth and ate the fruit; when she swallowed, Ginny held the cherry stem up for Hermione to see. Then, she put it into her mouth and began moving her jaw, clearly working the cherry stem with her tongue. Hermione found herself leaning in and watching with rapt attention. Though, a small part of her wondered why she was so intrigued.
Moments later, Ginny opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, revealing a knotted cherry stem. She wore an expression of victory as she picked the cherry stem off of her tongue and held it in front of Hermione’s face. Before she could stop herself, Hermione let out a laugh, taking a sip of her drink, slowly starting to feel a buzz. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
Ginny feigned an expression of hurt. “You wound me, Cherry.” She chuckled for a moment before composing herself. “But don’t you worry, I’ve got a lot of tricks that I’m sure could impress you.” She threw Hermione a wink and Hermione sat straighter.
Automatically, Hermione felt her cheeks warm as her mind drifted to a comment Blaise had made earlier. God. Thinking about someone, a stranger no less, having sex with someone else, was so awkward. So why can’t I stop? Eyes widening, Hermione hurriedly reached for her cup and chugged the rest of her drink, ignoring how overpowering the sugary drink could be. Once she set the cup back down, Hermione cleared her throat. “So you’re a softball player, huh?”
Rather than directly answer, Ginny raised her eyebrow. “Did you ask me that to find out if I’m gay?”
Thank God she had finished drinking, because if she was drinking just then she’d have choked. “Oh my God, no.” Hermione shook her head furiously, embarrassment filling her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything like that. I just saw you walk in with the softball players and I… assumed?” Could the ground swallow her whole? Surely, it would be less painful than this.
Ginny, however, seemed unperturbed as she tipped her head back and let out a booming laugh. And even though Hermione felt like a complete ass, she couldn’t help but feel enticed by Ginny’s carefree personality. It certainly wasn’t something that Hermione had ever mastered the ability to have. Eventually, Ginny’s laughter subsided. “I am,” she answered, “A softball player, well, and gay.” Ginny leaned in, voice lowering as if she was finally cluing Hermione in on a secret. “I’m also totally hitting on you.”
Hermione’s stomach dropped. Shit. How did she not see the signs? Maybe she only noticed the signs with men because that was the sex she preferred? Was Ginny simply that good that flirting felt so natural? Because Hermione certainly hadn’t felt as if there was something overt about what she had done to let her know that flirting was taking place. Sure, Hermione hadn’t partaken in flirting in a while but… didn’t both parties need to be aware of it?
Though a selfish part of Hermione couldn’t deny that knowing that she caught someone’s eye, even if it is a woman’s, caused butterflies to flutter in her belly. Had it really been that long? Hermione shook her head; that didn’t matter. What mattered was rectifying this situation.
With a shake of her head, Hermione’s mouth fell downward. “Oh no, I’m not-”
“Interested?” Ginny replied, cutting her off. Another low chuckle left her lips. “I’d certainly believe that, Cherry.” She brought her hand to Hermione’s lip that was tucked between her teeth. “If you hadn’t been giving me all the signs that you were into me.”
Signs? What signs? Hermione thought desperately. Hermione had just thought she was engaging in a friendly conversation. How did that get misconstrued? She opened her mouth to double down on what she had said, but Ginny spoke once again. “That’s okay, I’ll respect your wishes.” Ginny’s hand moved away while Hermione was too busy wondering why it bothered her to reply.
Ginny stepped away from Hermione, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Though I am heading out just on the off chance you are interested.” With that, she turned on her heel, leaving Hermione sitting there speechless. She watched Ginny’s retreating form, stopping only to grab her keys from one of the other women sitting at her table until she finally left the bar entirely. Hermione looked around the bar quickly, sighing in relief when it appeared that there was no one looking at her, no lingering glances from her encounter with Ginny.
Why did it matter? They were two college-age women who were talking, and then one of them left. Plain and simple. Even if there was something more to it, it was in their right to do that. But there wasn’t anything happening here.
So why did her eyes keep darting back to the front of the bar? Why did she want Ginny to come back?
Taking in a deep breath, Hermione attempted to collect herself. She really needed to get a hold of herself. She couldn’t be sitting here wondering if… if a woman who made it very clear that she had been interested in Hermione, romantically interested, was still outside. That would be preposterous. What would people think if she followed her?
How would they know? Her mind shot back at her, causing Hermione to shoot up in her seat. The thought, as ridiculous as it was, wasn’t wrong… was it? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it… didn’t the same logic apply here?
It would be an experience. One that, Hermione seemed more than excited to have, given the heat pooling in her belly. She didn’t allow herself to think about it as more than an opportunity to have a “wild college experience.” And if no one knew about it other than her and Ginny, what was the harm really? Maybe Pansy was right—maybe she did need to stop wasting her college experience and live a little.
Before she could lose her nerve, Hermione pulled out her phone and tapped the screen furiously. She sent a quick text to Pansy, telling her that she was leaving, though she had no expectation that her roommate would even respond to her. Once the text was successfully sent, Hermione got to her feet and made her way out of the bar. She attempted to look at the patrons, giving them all sideways glances as she passed through, but no one batted an eye at her, which only pushed her forward, giving her the confidence boost she needed.
When she stepped out of the bar, she found Ginny leaning against the wall, foot against the bricks as she stood there. Hermione stopped mid step as her eyes landed on Ginny, who seemed to find her eyes at that exact moment. A broad smile spread across Ginny’s lips and she pushed off the wall before walking toward Hermione. “Didn’t think you’d show.”
Hermione let out a breath, moving some hair that the wind had blown in her face out of her eyes. “Yeah, I-I haven’t really done anything like this before.” As if the gods above wanted to make this situation worse, Hermione unhelpfully added: “You know… with a girl.”
“Oh,” Ginny breathed, the one-syllable causing Hermione to frown. “Do you want to keep it that way?”
The question gave Hermione pause. Did she want to stop? Straight girls experimented, didn’t they? Even though it didn’t make them any less straight. Wouldn’t this be the same thing? Hermione shook her head. “No, I want to do this… with you.”
Ginny smiled. “Great.” She took a step towards her, taking Hermione’s hand in hers. At the contact, Hermione took in a sharp breath, excitement bubbling inside of her. Ginny began walking, guiding Hermione to a beat-up 4runner. When Ginny pulled out the keys, she gave Hermione one last look, eyebrow arching in invitation, “Last chance, Cherry. Sure you want this?”
Was she sure? Not really, but when in Rome, right? She gave Ginny a nod and slid into the passenger seat when the car doors unlocked. As she got situated, Ginny ran around to the other side of the car before getting into the driver’s seat. Once the door shut, Ginny stared at Hermione before grinning widely. “Don’t worry, Cherry, I’ve got you.”
Hermione inhaled a gulp of air and shook her head, trying her best to feign nonchalance. “Oh, no I’m not worried. I’m just not really used to fooling around in cars. Though it does kind of have a romantic feel to it, given the right context; I guess that’s why they decided to do it in the movie Titanic.” Beside her, Ginny laughed and Hermione clamped her teeth onto her bottom lip; she was rambling again. “Sorry, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just that my roommate’s boyfriend loves Titanic,” Ginny said, the smile never leaving her face. Had Hermione ever seen someone so beautiful? She wasn’t sure, but she also wondered if she’d ever allowed herself to see another woman this way before. But, experimenting meant trying new things, didn’t it?
“Jack totally could’ve lived, there was enough room on that thing Rose was laying on. They tested it, you know? Though I’m not sure if anyone’s ever thought of testing it in the actual ocea- oh!” Hermione yelped in surprise as Ginny grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and pulled her over the middle console. Before Hermione fell over completely, her hand landed on Ginny’s thigh just as Ginny’s lips landed hard on her’s.
Ginny’s lips molded against Hermione’s as she kissed her deeply, hands coming up to cradle Hermione’s face. She pulled back for just a second, catching her breath before she was back, pushing her tongue into Hermione’s mouth. Ginny’s lips were soft, softer than any guy she’d ever kissed before and she tasted like cherries, a combination that made Hermione’s head spin.
Hermione leaned in, kissing Ginny with abandon. She didn’t care that they were in a parking lot outside of a bar, didn’t care that she wasn’t attracted to girls, because Hermione liked this. And whatever was happening in this beat-up car, well, she didn’t ever want it to stop. Before she could convince herself not to, Hermione climbed over the middle console, moving to straddle Ginny’s thighs. As she settled on Ginny’s lap, Ginny’s hands moved to Hermione’s legs, reminding her of the skirt that she wore.
Pulling back, Hermione realized that her skirt had hiked up, bunching around her waist, giving Ginny an excellent view of the black panties she was currently wearing. Snagging her lip between her teeth as she looked into Ginny’s eyes, Hermione said, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” She flushed with embarrassment before Ginny pulled her back into a kiss.
“Don’t worry about getting me off,” Ginny said as she pulled away. “I’m more than happy to just take care of you.”
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked apprehensively. Guys had never been more than happy to do anything solely for her. There was always a contingency plan.
“Cherry, if I don’t sink my fingers into that pretty cunt of yours, I think I’m going to scream.” Ginny’s confession caused Hermione’s insides to clench. When Hermione gave her an eager nod, Ginny’s hand moved to the lace of Hermione’s panties, dipping underneath the fabric. She let out a hiss as her fingers traced Hermione’s slit. “How long have you been wet for me?” Her voice sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.
Maybe it was the way Ginny was so sure of herself, or the alternate reality Hermione seemed to have found herself in, but Hermione didn’t see the point in lying. “Since you knotted the cherry stem.”
“I fucking knew it,” Ginny said victoriously, leaning in to kiss Hermione once more. As Hermione melted into the kiss, Ginny sunk two fingers inside of her causing an obnoxiously loud moan to leave her lips.
“Sorry,” Hermione apologized sheepishly. Her words only seemed to cause Ginny’s fingers to pump harder, moving at a pace that caused Hermione to pant.
“If you were mine, Cherry, I’d fuck the word sorry right out of your mouth.” Her words were hot as she trailed kisses down Hermione’s neck.
Hermione let another moan leave her lips as Ginny’s words set in. It should’ve scared her, the mere thought of this ever being something more. Because the circumstances could never permit for them to be more than this: a one-off. But fuck if it didn’t sound good to hear. And at that moment, as Ginny tugged Hermione’s blouse down to palm her breast, she’d do just about anything to be owned by this woman. “Ginny, I need to touch you.” Hermione’s voice was nothing more than a desperate whine, but she didn’t care less.
“Hold on,” Ginny murmured, pulling away from Hermione’s clavicle. Ginny moved the hand that was kneading her breast and lowered it to her seat. In a flash, Ginny was falling backward, taking Hermione with her. Then, Ginny was taking her arm out of her t-shirt, pulling her head from the shirt, and letting the material hang awkwardly on her arm. “I’m really sensitive, I need you to touch my breasts.”
Had Hermione ever had a partner tell her what they liked? She couldn’t recall. Something about it felt so… vulnerable, in a way she couldn’t seem to explain. Her fingers moved to Ginny’s bra, thankful to find a front-facing clasp. The last thing she needed now was to stumble in unclasping her bra from the back. With deft fingers, Hermione popped the clasp, eyes widening as her breasts fell out of her bra. Hermione reached down, taking her breast into her hand, rolling her hips as Ginny moaned.
Was every part of this woman so soft? Why did Hermione find this more pleasurable than the hard planes of the men she’s been with?
In an effort to distract herself, she looked to Ginny with eager eyes. “What do you like,”
“I like when my nipples are pinched, but you can also do what you like. I’m sure I’ll like that too.” Ginny merely shrugged. “Watching the sexy faces you make as you look at me is enough.”
Hermione’s tongue poked out between her lips as she thought about her next move. Deciding to be bold, Hermione pinched Ginny’s nipples, feeling the pebbled skin between her fingertips. Gauging Ginny’s reaction, Hermione moved in, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ginny’s collarbone. Slowly, she made her way down until she wrapped her lips around Ginny’s nipple, feeling her arch into her mouth.
It seemed Hermione’s ministrations only pushed Ginny further, her fingers picking up tempo inside of her. “Fuck me, Cher, how’d I get so lucky to find you?” Ginny’s whimpers were enough to bring Hermione to climax, and with her fingers inside of her, Hermione wasn’t going to last. “That’s it, Hermione, fuck my hand.”
“I’m gonna come,” Hermione said, moving her mouth to Ginny’s other breast. Ginny’s fingers tangled in her hair and in that moment, Hermione considered what a sight they were. Two women tangled together in the front seat of a beat-up SUV? Sounded like a romance novel in the making.
Or a felony.
Hermione wanted neither; all she wanted was to come on Ginny’s fingers. And as Ginny’s fingers pressed against her G-spot, she did just that. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth fell open, moaning against Ginny’s breath. Ginny stroked her through her orgasm, whispering filthy praises into the air until the end. Just as Ginny removed her fingers from Hermione, she fell into her, completely boneless.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, face pressed into Ginny’s neck as she caught her breath. But as she came back into awareness, she could feel Ginny gently caressing her hair. It wasn’t until Ginny’s fingers brushed the back of her neck, making contact with the silver chain on her neck, that Hermione shot up, staring down at the redhead with wide eyes. Realization dawned on her, making her hyper-aware of where she was and what she had just done.
“Hey there.” Ginny’s voice was soft, sultry. Hermione hated it.
Hermione quickly moved to scramble off of Ginny. Uncertainty crept inside of her, replacing her orgasm-induced high with a weight of shame. As she sat in the passenger seat her thoughts ran a mile a minute. What had she been thinking? What had she just done? How could she think to do this? This wasn’t her, she was supposed to be at her dorm studying for her Child Psychopathology test. Shit, shit, shit. She could feel Ginny’s eyes on her and she willed herself to remain calm. Fixing her hair, she let out what she hoped to be an easy laugh, “Thanks for, uh, that.”
Ginny laughed, re-clasping her bra. Hermione forced herself not to stare. “Anytime, Cherry.” She licked her lips, an action Hermione wanted so desperately not to be affected by, “Do you want a ride home?”
Shaking her head, Hermione rejected the offer. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Ginny frowned. “Why not,”
“You don’t strike me as the type to have more than one-night stands,” Hermione said weakly, fumbling for some sort of way to escape. Something was wrong with her, and she didn’t know what. The thought terrified her and she needed to get out of here and back on solid ground.
Ginny’s face fell. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip.” Her voice was sharp, Hermione wanted to apologize, but she didn’t, needing to get out of here as fast as she could. After a moment, Ginny asked, “Can I at least get your number to know you got back safely?”
“No, I’ll make it back just fine. No need to worry about me.” With that, Hermione opened the door and scrambled out, righting her skirt as she stood. She gave Ginny one final glance, watching her face fall in a mixture of confusion and hurt as she shut the door.
When she turned away from the car, Hermione headed in the direction of her dorm. As she dashed back home, Hermione could only think of one thing: What the fuck had she just done?