Roommates || A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 11

"I said, 'You planning to sleep all day?'"

Hermione lifted her head to squint at Ginny. She was no more than a silhouette against the blinding light from the window behind her. Hermione drew a noisy breath and sighed, exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. She was lying sprawled on her belly, her pillow clutched in her arms. "What time is it?"

"It's after noon," Ginny said.

Her words sent a jolt of alarm through Hermione. She stared at Ginny through a curtain of hair for a moment, then brushed it aside. "What! After noon?"

Sleeping in until after noon? What would her mother say? She'd say that that kind of laziness was not to be tolerated, not in her household. The threat of her lingering disapproval drove Hermione to struggle into a sitting position. She flung her bedclothes aside—and then it all came back to her.

She was in her dorm room at college, not at home. It was Sunday. She hadn't missed any classes. You missed church, though—again, her inner voice reminded her. She'd attended services at a local church exactly once since she'd started college. Not that she was going to tell her parents that.

And she really wasn't going to tell them about last night. Oh god. She felt her face grow hot just thinking about what she'd done. She'd slept with Viktor. She'd fucked Viktor. Several times. They'd awakened several times last night and had sex again each time. It wasn't just Viktor's doing, either. She remembered very clearly now waking up and wanting him.

She'd had him, too. It was the first time she had sex on top, and damned if it wasn't a thrill to ride him, setting the pace, and enjoying being in charge.

"I guess your date with Viktor was a success," Ginny said.

"Yeah?"

Ginny grinned. "Yeah. You're grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Plus, you either don't know or don't care that you're completely naked."

Hermione glance down, confirming Ginny's observation, then yanked the bedclothes up to cover herself. Her cheeks burned.

"So tell me. Was your date all that you hoped it would be?"

Hermione looked everywhere but at Ginny, feeling as if her insides had seized up. She wanted to tell Ginny all about it—and she couldn't imagine speaking of it. She tried to imagine what she would say, tried to imagine opening her mouth and saying the words. But they jammed up in her throat and she remained silent.

Ginny's sigh was almost silent. "That's okay," she said. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought you might want to." She scooted to the edge of her bed, clearly preparing to leave.

"I do," Hermione said. Ginny paused, looking at her. "Want to," Hermione added. "Talk about it."

Ginny remained still, watching her with a neutral expression, as if she were watching a deer, aware that the slightest movement would spook it. Was that how she looked to Ginny, Hermione wondered. Did she seem that skittish? That fragile?

Probably. "It's...not easy for me," she said. Massive understatement.

Ginny nodded carefully. "I know. You're a very private person. We've discussed that before. If I'd grown up the way you did, trapped in a tiny town with people still living in the past, I'd probably have turned out just like you."

Hermione failed to smother a huge grin.

"What's funny?"

Hermione shook her head. Then realized she was shutting down again. "It's just—I can't imagine you growing up in my home town. You wouldn't fit in."