Wow, did this story take me forever. Finally, the long-anticipated ending. I worked long and hard on this, so I hope you enjoy it.

Leather & Cigarettes
Chapter Eight: waiting and sleeping

Ginny watched Hermione crumble on the floor like a rag doll and felt her heart scream out in pain. Panic gripped her now more than when she had first seen Hermione tied up and screaming.

She tripped over Lucius Malfoy's frozen form and landed next to her lover, eyes widening at the extent of her injuries. If only she had never come – if only she had stayed – the moralities were too confusing to think about right now, but she felt guilty all the same.

"I'm really sorry, baby girl," she whispered in a trembling voice, carefully pulling Hermione into her arms. Her hand shook as she searched for a pulse, finding it faint and erratic. "I should've been here for you."

Harry was next to her now, standing. He examined the scene in front of him but said nothing of the intimacy; instead, he cut right to the chase. "Apparate to the hospital wing," he ordered. "Once she's in proper care, alert Ron of the security breach here and let him know we have four Death Eaters in custody, including Lucius and Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and the younger Gregory Goyle. I'll wait here for him and others to come; I can't Apparate them all myself."

Ginny nodded slightly, barely hearing him. Hospital wing – Ron – it all came down to the weak and wounded girl tucked in her arms.

"Ginny." She felt Harry's hand on her shoulder; she looked up to meet shining eyes of emerald. "She's going to be all right."

"I know," she whispered, and Apparated away.

The hospital wing was silent when she popped into existence, Hermione drooping in her arms. And yet out of nowhere Mediwizards appeared around them, tugging Hermione out of her arms. Ginny panicked, protesting, feeling the press of bodies around her, the disappearance of Hermione, being set down on a tall bed and being wheeled away. There was her mother, gently pulling her towards the door, telling her to calm down; everything would be okay.

"But I want to be there!" she shouted, struggling. "I have to --!"

"There's nothing you can do for her right now," Molly Weasley reminded her. "I'll come get you when they're finished."

Suddenly, there was a door shut in her face. She was in the hallway.

"Dammit!" she screamed, punching the wall next to the door. Her arm ached in protest; she'd physically knocked down Goyle before petrifying him, and adulthood had not leaned him out by any means. Thankfully, she hadn't maintained any other damage; Hermione really knew her protection spells…

Hermione… Ginny felt more tears choke her, but she pushed them down. At headquarters, she couldn't betray any weakness. She had to be strong. In reality, the battle wasn't quite over – she would let herself fall apart only after she found out that Hermione was going to be all right.

Because there couldn't be any other alternative. Hermione had to be all right.

…

"Merlin, Ginny, you look like a freak Floo accident survivor," Ronald Weasley informed his sister when she walked through the door to his rooms. "What the bloody hell happened?"

Ginny let herself collapse onto her favorite armchair, body weary. "Hermione was attacked," she replied flatly. Before Ron could question her, she continued. "She's in the infirmary right now. Harry's at her apartment, holding Zabini, Goyle Junior, and Draco and Lucius Malfoy." I'm gonna kill that bastard Draco. "He wants you and a few others to go there to help him bring them back here."

Ron nodded, fazed by the news about Hermione. She let him be silent, finding herself fond of it, really; growing older and being put in these hard times had mellowed her older brother out. She was glad of it. She was sure she would've throttled him by now, family ties be damned.

"This is your fault, isn't it?" he asked suddenly, in a quiet voice.

She looked up at him wearily, but didn't reply. He took her silence as an invitation to continue. "You knew, from the beginning, that it wouldn't be a good idea to get involved with her, but you did it anyway. And now look what's happened: Hermione's in the hospital wing with Merlin knows what kind of injuries, and if not for you, she would be fine, safe at home and doing her job."

"If not for me, she would probably be in Voldemort's custody by now," she replied scathingly, blood boiling.

"Looks like the only time your being in her life has done her any good!" Ron retorted, face turning red.

"Will you fucking lay off me?" Ginny shouted. Ron glared at her. "Stop pretending you're so bloody perfect, for a second. This is the first time anything bad has happened to Hermione, and how many times have you and Lavender put each other in danger? How many times have you tried to save her, at the cost of your life – or both of your lives, for that matter?"

"But I love Lavender!" Ron cut in. "And you--"

"Love Hermione," she growled. Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "So, brother, how am I any different than you?"

Ginny stood from the chair and walked to the door, feeling Ron watch her. As she left, she said over her shoulder, "Don't forget: Harry's waiting."

…

The hallway outside the infirmary wasn't very interesting. There were five hundred fifty-two tiles from doorway to doorway. They were all steel grey, staying marginally clean due to the wonders of magic. However, there were twenty five scratches in the tiles closest to her. Only ten of them were caused by Ginny's bitten-down, slightly sharpened fingernails. The others were a mystery.

She was not good with waiting. She'd already Apparated home – twice – to shower and change. The shower she had taken had been an hour long, in an attempt to wash away the guilt and the pain and the worry with which she had coated herself. She'd washed the clothes she had been wearing three times, then decided to just burn them. She didn't like them much, anyway.

She'd already checked in with her mother to see how Hermione was doing. Twice. And twice, her mother had pursed her lips and shut the door on her again. She didn't even try to feign injuries in order to get inside; they all knew her better than that.

Though I could use some ice for my hand, she thought. The knuckles were slightly purple with bruising.

Ginny toyed with her ring for a while; the one Hermione had given her. She liked the way it reflected the lights, making them bounce and dance on the drab colors. It was like some kind of hope she was hanging onto; the walls were her head. She couldn't help that they kept on closing in when she thought too hard about what she had done.

It's my fault she's in there, she thought again, feeling it bite into her like sharp metal teeth. She'd thought about leaving a thousand times, thinking, maybe, that it would be better this way. To simple leave and never come back.

After all, would Hermione even still want her after what had happened? Hermione was a smart girl; she would know that it was all Ginny's fault for her wounds, that they had found her and tortured her for all she was worth. Ginny wasn't too sure she was even worth the life Hermione had been forced to put on the line, all because of her.

And yet she couldn't force herself to move from her spot on the floor, directly across from the entrance to the infirmary, waiting.

…

The door opened, suddenly, like a gust of wind blew it open on accident. Ginny stood within the same moment. Nervousness and excitement and guilt made her stomach churn with mixed signals.

The Mediwitch looked tired, but relieved. There was sweat on her brow, making her short-cropped blonde hair stick in wet strands to her forehead.

"I'm sorry about the wait," the woman apologized. "It was necessary for Hermione's mental health that we check everything."

"Is she okay?" Ginny asked hurriedly, anxious to get inside.

The Mediwitch nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, she bandaged up quite well," she explained optimistically. "Though they were excessive in nature, her physical wounds were a breeze to heal." She hesitated. Ginny zeroed in on her reluctance and came closer.

"But…?"

"Her mind was hit quite consistently with the Cruciatus Curse," the witch said. "It was necessary that we discover the extent of the damage caused to her memory."

Something dropped inside her, like a fast-falling raindrop in slow motion. "Is she okay?" Ginny repeated herself hollowly.

"We're all quite grateful for Hermione's unceasing intelligence," the woman replied with the hint of a smile. "The Malfoys, thankfully, calculated the force of the curse well; she will only suffer from temporary short-term memory loss. Her long-term memory is fine."

Ginny felt some of the tension in her relax slowly. There was still the looming question of Hermione's feelings for her.

"She's been asking for you," the blonde told her gently, meeting Ginny's gaze. "You're welcome to stay with her; we put her in your care."

"Thank you," Ginny said thickly, tears forming in her eyes. She blinked them away quickly and allowed the Mediwitch to lead her inside.

Hermione was sleeping peacefully on her back, a few brown locks falling across her face. They had put her in generic clothing, a white t-shirt and light blue pajama pants; Ginny could see the waistband of them from where Hermione had pushed away her blankets. Her bare arms, that had been covered in blood last Ginny saw her, were whole again. Only the smallest hint of pinkish-silver scar tissue remained. The cut on her cheek was completely gone. She noticed a faint glow of green out of the corner of her eye, and realized it was coming from Hermione's finger. They were monitoring her pulse; it was slow and sleepy.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Ginny sat heavily in the chair next to the bed, feeling the weight of the day's events fall on her shoulders.

Ron was right – Hermione would have been fine if not for her. It was still late afternoon; Hermione would have been curled up on the sofa, reading with a cup of steaming tea on the coffee table and light music in the background.

And yet Ginny couldn't quite see that as being it. She couldn't help but think that there was something missing. She believed so fervently that she made it complete.

And if Hermione didn't want her…?

She would think about that later.

…

The sound of a chair being pushed across the floor awoke Ginny from her light doze half an hour later. A tired Harry sat next to her, eyes darkened with the depth of everything.

"How is she?" he asked, gesturing at the woman on the bed.

"Fine," Ginny croaked; sleep had dried her throat. She cleared it accordingly and tired again. "How was capture?"

"A disaster," Harry replied flatly. "Lucius escaped."

Ginny's eyes widened in alarm. "What?"

Harry recalled the action tonelessly, his anger deflated by resignation and defeat. "He shook himself out of the Pertificus Totalus you put on him earlier, threw back the two wizards holding him, grabbed his wand, cursed the shit out of everything, and Apparated out."

"Fucking hell," Ginny swore viciously, closing her hands into fists. "Just – fucking hell."

They were silent for a few moments. The only sound came from the pulse on Hermione's fingertip. Ginny could feel something building up in Harry, accusations and anger directed at her, forcing the responsibility down her throat. It felt like a sickness within her, one she had to get out before he could expose her to it.

"I should have ended it sooner," she said softly. Harry didn't move, listening to her confessions. "I knew it was wrong, that it was dangerous, but I couldn't stop, I…" She faltered, staring blurry-eyed at the sleeping brunette, whom had confessed her love in a dream-induced murmur. "I love her, Harry."

"I know you do," he replied, and sighed ruefully. "I thought you loved her enough to be able to let her go."

There was no order, but Ginny could catch the drift: he wanted her to agree to never see Hermione again.

"It's a little too late for that," she told him. They looked at each other, their unyielding stubbornness clashing dangerously.

"What if it happens again?" he asked, testing.

"It obviously will, with Lucius free," she replied calmly.

"Dammit, Ginny, this is Hermione's life you're fucking with!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "She could have died today because of you!"

"And because of me, she survived," she countered, voice rising.

"And if you're not there next time?" He stood, and the chair skidded slightly from his force. "What will you do if you don't make it in time and we lose her?"

"You're going to lose her anyway," Ginny retorted, mimicking his standing stance. "Merlin, Harry, you can't just shut a human being in a broom closet and forget about her, never letting her out until she can't breathe! You of all people she understand this." A jab at his childhood; Ginny knew it was a low blow, but she was past caring about the hits she dealt, just as long as they connected. Harry's mouth opened, but she cut him off with a razor sharp glare. "And don't tell me that it's different from what you had to deal with. It's exactly the same, except she doesn't even have angry relatives breathing down her neck to keep her company. You and Ron were supposed to be her best friends," she added bitterly, "and you left her alone to rot in a cage you built for her."

"You want to know what I want?" a voice said suddenly from the bed. Harry and Ginny both turned their focus to the open-eyed brunette, who looked mildly irritated beneath her residual fatigue. "For you two to stop fighting about what's already happened and start talking about what's going to happen next." She pushed herself into a sitting position, propped up against her pillows, and folded her hands in her lap, looking expectant.

"I'm glad you're okay," Ginny mumbled meekly, not meeting her gaze. Now she was guilty of not only Hermione's attack, but also disturbing her much-needed rest.

Harry also took on a more demure demeanor, if only for a second. He sat slowly in his chair, coughing slightly. "I'm having a team clear out your apartment as we speak," he told Hermione in a gently authoritative tone. "I'll have a new home for you in a few days."

"And increased security?" she half-asked, half-demanded.

Ginny had sat back down and now felt like a child listening to her parents doing a divorce settlement. How could they both be so calm, when Hermione had just been attacked by the deadliest Death Eater alive and Harry had just been yelled at for being a horrible friend?

When Harry finished off listing the new measures being taken to ensure her safety, Hermione took on a pensive look, then slowly shook her head.

"No, that's not going to be good enough," she told him frankly.

If the situation were less grave, Ginny would have laughed at Harry's expression of utter incomprehension. As it was, Ginny didn't really understand what Hermione was getting at, either.

"What more can I do?" Harry asked helplessly, the incredulous look still present. "Merlin, unless you want a bloody bodygua--" He stopped abruptly and looked from Hermione's mischievous eyes to Ginny's confused ones. "But Hermione…"

"I can't live alone, now can I?" she asked softly, half-smiling. Her eyes caught on Ginny's, who felt her heart racing suddenly.

Harry rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Finally, it looked as if he had come to a decision, and nodded slowly.

"Fine," he said, then turned to address Ginny. "Ginny, I have a new mission for you."

Ginny's lips twitched, but she kept her smiles down. It was obvious that Harry was attempting to maintain his sense of authority. "I'm assigning you to be a bodyguard for Hermione Granger."

Ginny's heart roared jovially in her ears. She felt drunk off of shots of happiness handed to her in this hospital wing, all at once. But she feigned a look of confusion and asked innocently, "Who?"

Harry cracked a grin, the first she'd seen from him in a while. "You remember, that bushy-haired know-it-all a year ahead of you at school."

Their laughter was muffled by sudden pillows being thrown at their faces. Ginny grinned at the woman on the bed and sauntered closer to her, setting the pillow behind her back before planting a dainty kiss on her cheek.

"I believe you misplaced this, Miss Granger," she said politely. "As your bodyguard, it's my job to ensure your comfort and safety."

"Thank you, Weatherby," Hermione replied, making the three of them erupt into schoolish laughter again.

"Just don't tell Ron too much about this new arrangement," Ginny warned Harry. "Otherwise, you'll have an angry Lavender wondering why Ron can't be her bodyguard."

"I'm sure it'll happen either way," Hermione interjected. "You could just retaliate by saying that she's not smart enough to have a bodyguard."

…

After a few minutes of arguing, Harry was able to convince the Mediwitch to let Hermione stay in her room at the main headquarters. She still demanded, however, that Hermione's pulse be monitored, "just in case."

When they reached the room, Hermione climbed almost immediately into the bed, pushing the main comforter off with a kick of her legs. Ginny suddenly felt a surge of misplacement, of self-conscious, watching Hermione's confidence and lack of unease. After all, she still had no idea of Hermione even still wanted her.

"Take off your jeans and get into bed already," Hermione whined playfully, yawning widely. "I'm lonely."

Ginny fumbled with the button on her jeans and nearly tripped getting them off, pulling her socks off along with them. She left them in a crumpled pile on the floor along with her long-sleeved shirt, now wearing only a black tank top and her dark red cotton panties.

It took her a moment, in which she tried to get over her own modesty, to notice that Hermione was watching her with a content, coy look on her face. Ginny felt a blush and a nervous smile blossom on her face. "What?" she asked self-consciously.

Hermione simply continued to smile, and stretched her body out under the covers like a happy cat. "Nothing," she replied casually, "you're just really beautiful, that's all."

"Oh." Ginny could find no comeback. She stood at the foot of the bed awkwardly for a few more moments, before finally scrambling under the covers, finding that covering her body made herself feel less obvious and exposed. Despite the little signs that Hermione was still interested, Ginny still let the brunette come to her – and she did, curling up in the crook of her neck as soon as the redhead had gotten comfortable.

"It's really good to be here again," Hermione murmured into Ginny's collarbone, nuzzling her lightly.

"At headquarters?" Ginny asked obviously, frowning slightly. "I thought you didn't like it."

Hermione laughed, her warm breath tickling Ginny's skin. "No, here with you," she explained. "I really missed you…" She trailed off into a quiet sadness.

Ginny bit her lip, feeling guilty all over again. Why did she have to screw up so badly? "I'm sorry, Hermione," she whispered into Hermione's hair, and held the brunette closer. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."

"I know." Hermione sighed. "I understand why you did. You were just trying to protect me; or Harry was just trying to protect the both of us. Either way, I don't blame you for what happened."

Ginny shook her head a little, unable to give up the blame on herself. It was her fault it had happened, not Harry's, not Hermione's… Hermione may have continually wanted her to be there with her, but that didn't mean that Ginny shouldn't have known better than to continually be there. And, after getting too involved, she should have known better not to have left.

She just had wanted the brunette so badly, she could barely understand it. Waiting for years to get to this point had been torture. Having her, but not having her; then almost losing her – it had been such an ordeal. And now, being able to really be with her… It seemed like such a twist of confusing sacrifices and wishes finally coming true. Either way, it filled Ginny with such an emotional overload that now, just lying in bed with the girl she loved, made the tears finally fall freely.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, concerned. Ginny just held her tighter, unable to speak what she was feeling at the moment. Hermione responded to the grip and switched their positions so that Ginny's head was resting on her chest and began to gently stroke her hair. "What's wrong, darling? Please don't cry…"

"I could have lost you today," Ginny told her brokenly, shaking. It had hit her so many times, that thought, but never as strong as it did now. "It's my fault, too, that you almost died… And yet you still want me. I don't understand."

"I don't understand why I wouldn't want you anymore," Hermione said after a few more heartbeats. "That's just silly, Ginny. After all these years, do you think I would give up on the one person I've been waiting for?"

Ginny looked up, searching Hermione's eyes. They were serious and deep, like a forest at night. Her tears had calmed to a mere trickle every once in a while. "How do you know that I love you?" she asked curiously.

Hermione smiled and kissed her forehead gently. "Because your eyes tell me so," she replied simply. But Ginny could feel the doubt that grew in the brunette momentarily. Hermione's face became less confident. "You… do love me, don't you?"

Did she? Ginny grinned, not being able to help herself. She nodded slowly. "I love you very much, Hermione. You can be sure of it."

The expression of absolute happiness on Hermione's face was worth every pain in the world. "I love you, too, Ginny," she whispered gently, pulling the redhead's face closer to kiss her. Their arms instinctively wrapped around each other tighter, enjoying the prolonged sweetness of their mouths and bodies pressed together. When they separated, seconds or years later, Hermione snuggled dreamy-eyed in Ginny's arms and Ginny could feel the sleepiness in the slowness of her green pulse. "I can't wait to wake up to you every morning," Hermione mumbled, still smiling as she gently fell asleep only minutes later.

Ginny smiled and kissed the brunette's forehead lovingly, letting Hermione's gentle breathing settle her into a sleep filled with nothing but good dreams.