( TEN ! )

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PANSY COULDN'T BREATHE, COULDN'T THINK anything besides oh. Her lips moulded to Hermione's, she tentatively intwined her fingers into the other girl's twists of brown hair. A voice in the far corners of her mind screamed at her forwardness and her stupidity, but she was so lost in the moment, lost in her intimacy. And even if Pansy had to watch her walk away in a moment, in a few seconds...Hermione was kissing her back now.

The sweet press of their lips deepened and Hermione gasped against Pansy's mouth. Pansy smiled against her, happiness pouring into every molecule that built her body. A body she hadn't always loved, a mind she hadn't always accepted, but in right here, right now, she lived in all of it, trying to remember every soft brush, every touch.

After a lifetime of seconds, Hermione broke away, gasping. Her eyes were bright and wide, and Pansy's hands were still tangled in her hair.

"I- hang on," Pansy said awkwardly, trying to extract her hands from the curls without pulling. She blushed furiously - now her smooth facade would definitely be in the dust forever. "I'm sorry if you...If I presumed." Stop talking Pansy. Why do you always have to say too much around girls you like? Just stop before you make it worse.

But the silence and Hermione's stare might have been worse than her gabbling. She inwardly cringed - stupid stupid stupid - and twisted her hands behind her back. Fumbling, she removed her glasses and swung them on the crook of her finger, focussing fiercely on their arc and momentum.

"Pansy," Hermione said finally, her voice hoarse.

Silence, again.

Pansy couldn't look at her. "I can go if you want. We don't have to ever mention this again. I mean, we never have to talk again once we've finished that project, if that's what you want. You probably do. This - I - I'm sorry." She could feel tears of embarrassment and loss and broken hope in her eyes. What the fuck was she doing, crying over a girl like this? She was Pansy Parkinson, angry, cold, sarcastic - not a mess like this. Perhaps she hadn't realised how many suppressed and aching feelings had been locked deep inside her. Hurriedly, she half walked-half ran down the corridor, unable to bear being there any longer. Take me back a few minutes. Just let me stay there forever.

"Don't go," Hermione called. "I'm not angry, Pansy."

"So you're sorry for me?" Pansy spun around, grateful for the anger, always waiting inside, like a sleeping beast. "I'm so glad. So glad you pity me. Or do you think I'm disgusting?" She glared, daring Hermione to say something.

"Please don't get so defensive," Hermione snapped irritably. "I was going to say - no wait." Her eyes narrowed resolutely, and she brushed her hair back from her face. "I was going to say - I think that's...what I've been waiting for my entire life, and I didn't know it." Her face was red and she looked flustered, but Pansy had never heard anything that struck her heart more. It was perhaps the kindest thing that anyone had ever said to her, including her parents. All they'd ever wanted was her to be perfect, and she was never what they needed.

She was crying. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this," she snapped, rubbing her eyes. "I don't cry."

Hermione laughed. "I saw nothing."

"Come and kiss me again," she asked, daringly. "Kiss me." Haltingly, Hermione looked around at everything but her, and Pansy felt that she'd again ruined everything.

"I've never...kissed anyone before," she admitted. "You kiss me."

Pansy approached her, until their noses almost touched. Hermione's brown curls brushed the straight angles of her black hair, and she smiled. The curves of her cheeks looked like caramel sunsets. "Please kiss me. From here no one will know it was you."

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