(A/n: its been a while, eh?.... oh and errors are fixed...)

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her

On nights like these it is almost customary to share your bed. It's all you can do to forget the fighting and the dead. It doesn't matter who it is or what your and their preferences are. It's just another body to release all of your emotion into. In times such as these you need them to be one night-ers and meaningless, because maybe that's all there is going to be. Just one night and it could be over. We could be killed in the night or the next morn.

I myself have shared many a bed and slept next to many people, but I have had sex with neither man nor woman. I assume that it shouldn't surprise you. I mean me? Hermione Granger? Have sex? That just seems a bit out of character to me. Really though, I haven't. People have tried, but I told them not to exert themselves for the following day. Then we would curl together and begin our restless slumber.

Within these later years I have gotten accustom to having my body pressed against another woman's. Men are hard and callous. Their skin and lips aren't soft like a woman. They don't caress my body as warm and sweetly as a woman does. Their sweat is not as sweet. They don't even bother to try and make a girl feel special. The men are the ones that want sex the most. They don't even care about foreplay, or so I've heard. Who would want a man?

Women are perfectly curved. It's not just about the sex, and if it is, they are willing to be more kind about bringing it up as opposed to; 'So are we going to fuck now?' It's more of; 'I need you.' That makes a girl feel special. Just because we are at war, doesn't mean that you shouldn't go out of your way to make someone feel good and beautiful and sexy.

Anyway, I think that tonight I'm going to break this celibacy. Gods and goddesses forgive me. I am about to obtain the unattainable. Earlier, Ginny Weasley graced herself upon my doorstep.

When I opened the door I had my wand at a ready position. When I realized who it was I lowered my wand and dropped my jaw. My mouth stood agape, "You?"

"What? You aren't glad to see me?" She pouted at me.

"Y-yes," I stammered. "I-I mean, of course I'm glad to see you. I just wasn't expecting to see you."

A stunning, alluring creature is what she is. Though the war has taken a toll on us all she still manages to be so damn beautiful. There are only little things that I have noticed. Her eyes are a darker Shade of blue, almost a cobalt blue, to mach the dark circles under them. Her figure has diminished some, due to the lack of supplies and food and overall stress. Her nails are like mine, chewed down and chipped. Her skin is scarred and pale, yet somehow she is sitting with me in my living room, sipping tea, and she is looking quite lovely.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. I can feel my arousal and I'm almost positive she can sense it. She gazes at me deeply from the chair opposite mine. I cough nervously and take a sip if my tea.

She sets her cup down on the floor between us. She keeps that eye contact, as I peer at her over the rim of my own cup. She smiles, "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

I nearly spit the mouthful of liquid I have all over, out of pure nervousness. I put my hands and my cup in my lap, "Um, y-yes, of course." I don't think I have been this nervous in my entire life. Not even around Harry. I mean, this is Ginny, the girl who spent the hot summers curled next to me in her bedroom. I was never like this then, even when I figured out that I wanted her. I guess in times like these, nights like these, you expect the worst. Yet, it's still just the same Ginny. She just came looking for something different this time.

She stands. She's a bit taller than me. Her long legs walk her towards me. She grins at me and plucks my cup from my shaking hands and sets it gently on the floor. "Hermione, I never thought of you as a fearful one. Quiet, yes, but not fearful. I won't bite you. Well," she chuckles, "not very hard." She sits on my lap and laughs again, very girlishly. "Well that was a bit cliché, wasn't it? I'm sorry." She kisses my ear.

I can't help but moan. It's been long, much too long since I have felt the contact of another in such a way. She's teasing me and biting me oh-so sensuously. Yet, a part of me almost feels guilty as I touch her, pulling her body close to mine. I nibble her collarbone and work my way up her neck. Finally I reach her ear. "You do this often, don't you?"

She pauses from unbuttoning my shirt for a moment, looking a little hurt. "What do you mean by that?"

Crap, bad thing to say. "No, no Ginny, I wasn't suggesting--"

She stands suddenly "--that I 'get around.'"

I find myself standing as well. "No, not at all, I just meant--" I ball up my fists and drop my arms down, "I don't know." I sink back into my chair, defeated, and put my fingers to my temples. "I'm sorry. I don't really do this much." I place my face into my hands, "I don't do this at all."

I feel her heat move. Her fingers are on my back and shoulders, rubbing the pains away. Her hot breath is on my ear as she continues rubbing, "What are you saying?"

"I haven't done this before." I say after a moment.

"With a woman?" she asks kindly, trying to understand.

I shake my head, "Not with anyone."

"I didn't know," she says as she nuzzles into my neck. "I always thought you and Ron got into it sometime in school." She chuckles.

"Ick," I laugh too. Then I sigh, "I just don't know what to do or say," I pause. "I'm sorry if offended you."

"You didn't. I take it as a very big compliment, actually. I mean, considering I haven't done this with anyone either," she smiles.

I sit, shocked.

"Everything will be okay," she purrs "this is going to be a good first." I believe her. It doesn't matter if she's lying, I still believe. Even in this time of war and turmoil, I still have that feeling of safety and warmth. I know that it's just going to be tonight, but it feels as if this could be my future.

Her skin is soft against mine. I see the story of her life written out on her body. There were scars she got from our school days. There are freckles on her nose from days past, spending too much time in the sun at the burrow. I see her ribs. She doesn't eat, like me. On her thighs self-inflicted marks, like mine. They intersect and cross in little white, irregular patterns.

She's beautiful. She's unique. She's giving herself to me. She's showing me a part of her she says no one else had had before. I believe in her, if anything at all. She's all I have, until tomorrow. I can't think about tomorrow. It's not there. It's only her and tonight. It's her warmth, her mouth on mine, her tongue on me, her body pressing against mine in the most carnal of ways. She's devouring me. She tells me that I'm beautiful, even if it's not true.

This night is an eternity, even after the candles die. She holds me. My back presses into her front, skin against skin. It's the best feeling in the world. This is how it's supposed to be. Her breathing is rhythmic against my ear, but she isn't asleep. She savors this, just as I do. And there is silence for the longest time.

"Hermione," she whispers.

"Hm?"

"I--" she takes a breath, composing herself. "I love you."

I finally process what she said. I smile and snuggle closer. "If we get out of this alive, Gin, I'll stay with you forever." I pause, "I love you too." I certainly wouldn't mind being with her. When this war ends I think I want her with me. I really hope we meant it.

"Good, I want you forever. I always have. Goodnight Hermione," she kisses my hair.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

Eventually tomorrow comes.

(A/n: well, here it is. Goodnight, baby.)