[Fic] "Paint the Town" part 6 -- Harry Potter

[edenfalling]

Here we are at the conclusion, once again slightly edited from the FA version for your reading pleasure. ;-)

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Paint the Town, part 6
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Ten loud and confused minutes later, which Hermione spent hiding in the bathroom and Ginny spent flatly refusing to tell Ron anything until he stopped acting like an unholy combination of Percy and Mum, everyone ended up at least semi-decent and squashed around the kitchen table facing a platter of pancakes and large pots of both tea and coffee.

Ginny speared a pancake with her fork, sliced it into twelve equal pieces, and dropped one tiny dollop of strawberry jam on each piece before looking around. On her right, Hermione was staring blankly into a coffee cup as if ignoring the world would somehow erase last night. Draco and Luna had flanked Harry, who was picking at his food and pretending not to stare at Ron. On Ginny's left, Ron himself was attacking a stack of syrup-drenched pancakes as if they had threatened to kill the family and needed to be destroyed.

When he finally stuffed a bite into his mouth, Ginny spoke. "Okay. First of all, this is none of your business. It's between Hermione and me, and you get no say."

Ron jerked his head up. "Bufth--" He swallowed. "But you're my sister. And Hermione, you're my best friend. Of course it's my business!"

Hermione twitched. Ginny tapped their feet together under the table, resting her toes on the arch of Hermione's bare foot.

"No, it isn't," she said, dragging out the Stare of Ultimate Disdain and leveling it at her brother. "We had a little too much to drink last night, spilled a few secrets, and are going to see what happens. And whatever happens, it's between us. Not between us and you."

Ron looked like he was going to protest again, and Ginny upped the intensity of the Stare. "Do I ask what you and Padma do in your private time?"

"But--"

"Well?" She upped the Stare again.

"No," mumbled Ron.

"Right. So you don't ask what Hermione and I might or might not do either. Because it's none of your business, you toad-licking idiot!"

Ron stabbed a pancake resentfully, but didn't respond. Ginny nodded in satisfaction; it was nice to know she still had it. She would have liked to chew him out even more for just barging into the flat and their bedrooms, but she didn't think it would help Hermione if Ginny reminded her how they'd woken up. Hermione was twitching enough as it was. Ginny rubbed her foot against Hermione's ankle in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

"Am I at least allowed to ask what the bloody hell is up with you, Harry," Ron growled, "or are you going to bite my head off too?"

Harry twitched even more violently than Hermione, but drew a breath to answer. "I'm going out with Luna and Draco."

Ron glared at his pancakes. "Right. Draco bloody Malfoy? Are you stark raving mad? And since when have you been into blokes? I thought you were normal!"

Hermione sank further into her chair. Ginny leaned forward to scream in her brother's ear, but Harry beat her to it, furious in an icy way she hadn't seen since the war. "Normal? Normal compared to what, Ron? To you?" Harry glared across the table, looking more like a battle-ready soldier than a tired young man in baggy pajamas. "Would you like me to drag out the sordid details of your sex life?"

For several seconds Ginny thought Ron might literally explode from anger... but then he took a deep breath and slumped back in his chair. "Oh, sod it all. It's not worth it."

Ginny blinked.

"What's not worth it?" asked Harry, voice still cold.

Ron waved his hand aimlessly. "This. Yelling at you. I'm sorry -- didn't mean to say all that." He poked at his pancakes, shoving the uneaten pieces around the plate. "It's just... I thought you two were the normal ones, see. And now you're in a threesome with Luna and bloody Malfoy, Harry, and you were sort of in bed with my sister, Hermione. Couldn't you have told me?"

"He was afraid you'd take it the way you just did," Draco pointed out in an aggressively reasonable voice.

Ron scowled. "If you hadn't run like a baby in the last month of the war..."

"Yes, but I did realize I was wrong, I gave information to your side when I left the Dark Lord, and you've already killed my father, which should be quite enough to satisfy whatever bizarre family feud you seem to think we have." Draco favored Ron with his Stare of Ultimate Contempt; Ginny was pleased to see how well he'd adapted her lessons to his own use. His Stare didn't have quite the same effect on Ron that her own did, but then, she was Ron's sister. She had an unfair advantage.

"Bastard."

"My parents were quite happily married, thank you."

"Draco, hush," Luna broke in. "And Ron, please try to behave. It's really your own fault for not telling anyone you planned to visit."

Ron mumbled something that Ginny couldn't catch.

"What?"

"I said that's what Padma told me. I should have listened -- she's always right -- it's just so bloody annoying sometimes."

At this Hermione finally looked up from her silent contemplation of her coffee. "She's always right? It's annoying? You should have listened to her? You bastard, that's what you used to say about me! What does she have that I didn't have? I practically threw myself at you! I could have tied you up if that's what you wanted!"

Ron stared, and Hermione flushed. "I don't want you anymore! But... what on earth was wrong with me? Why didn't you want me?"

Well. What did you say to that? Apparently Ron had no more idea than Ginny did, since he just sat dumb as a stone, fork held motionless in midair.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Hermione," said Luna. "I meant it when I said that people would love to have sex with you. I assume Ron was just too blind to appreciate you back then."

"Well? Is that right?" Hermione stared at Ron, demanding an answer.

He leaned his elbows on the table, cradling his head in his hands. Ginny restrained the urge to pat him on the shoulder; she loved her brother, but he deserved a bit of pain right now. "Bloody hell -- whatever I say is going to be wrong, isn't it."

Hermione sniffed. "I already know you have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon and you have no idea how to deal with 'mushy stuff.' You won't shock me. But we've been best friends for years, and I think I have the right to know why you dumped me."

"She has a point," said Harry, the ice finally melting out of his posture. Then he grinned. "Besides, you've just made us explain our love lives to you -- the least you can do is explain yours in return."

Ginny grinned back at him across the table.

"Very funny, you wanker," said Ron. "Oh, fine. You all hate me now anyway. Hermione... it just wasn't working. I thought you knew that -- you hardly ever kissed me, even -- and I didn't want to keep beating my head against a wall." He shrugged, looking helpless. "It wasn't going to work with Susan either, but I didn't care about her. It didn't matter with her. It would have mattered with you and I didn't want to screw up. You know I would've screwed up. Emotional capacity of a teaspoon, remember?"

"You screwed up anyway," said Hermione, sounding slightly hoarse. She took a long swallow of coffee. "Of course I knew it wasn't working. But I wanted to make it better. I thought sex might be a start. And I love you, you idiot."

Ron gulped. "As a friend, right?"

Hermione waved her hand. "Oh, now, certainly. But then..." She looked up from her coffee and seemed to notice the others for the first time. "Er, this may not be the best time for this conversation."

"Oh, go on. I think this is fascinating," said Draco as he leaned forward. Harry swatted the back of his head. "Ouch! Potter, that was uncalled for."

"You! You're having... you're having..."

"Sex, Ron," said Ginny, amused. "They're having sex."

"Shut it, you. Malfoy, I can't believe you're having sex with Harry and you still call him Potter! Harry, what the bloody hell do you see in this bastard?"

Ginny hauled the Stare of Ultimate Disdain out again. "Ron, how many times do I need to say it's none of your business?"

"Thanks, Ginny," said Harry. "But Ron's my best friend. He deserves some sort of answer." He reached out and grabbed Luna and Draco's hands -- Luna smiled while Draco looked surprised at the contact, but both held him reassuringly. "They... they make me happy."

"That's it?"

Harry looked pensive. "Yeah. It's hard to be happy. I wasn't until Hogwarts, and even then there was Voldemort. And afterwards I was... drifting for a while. You and Hermione and the rest of your family make me happy, but Draco and Luna do too. I'd be sad without them. Not that I wouldn't be sad without you, but it's different."

Ron snorted. "I bloody well hope so -- no offense, Harry, but there's no way in hell I'd shag you."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry. "It's nice to know I'm in the same boat as Hermione."

Ron winced, and Hermione snickered. Good, thought Ginny. If Hermione could see the humor in that, she was feeling better. Ginny nudged Hermione's foot with her own and smiled when Hermione's toes started wandering around her ankle in return.

"I think," said Luna suddenly, "that we've covered everything that needs to be covered in public. Also, the pancakes have gone cold. Harry, do we want the other Weasleys to know about us?"

"Oh, tell them, Harry; we don't bite," said Ginny. "Mum will have hysterics but she'll get over it. She got over it when Bill brought Greg home to meet the family; she'll get over this too."

"After six months, maybe," muttered Ron. Idiot -- they were trying to reassure Harry, not scare him off. "Yeah, let me tell the others. We're practically your family, after all."

"Good God, I'm going to be almost-related to a pack of Weasleys," said Draco as if he'd just realized this and considered it a fate worse than death.

"We'll make an exception for you, Malfoy," said Ron, glaring. "Well, Harry?"

Harry fiddled with his glasses. "Er, I suppose. And... would you tell Remus too? And Neville? But not until tomorrow, please?"

"For a man who wanted to waltz into Voldemort's fortress without any backup, you can be a real coward sometimes. Yeah, okay, I'll be your messenger boy, but you're on your own when everyone shows up to grill you." Ron stood from the table and stretched. "I should get back to Padma. See you around?" There was a general chorus of farewells, and he Apparated out with a pop of air, leaving the others to clear away the remains of breakfast.

Ginny snorted. Typical Ron -- show up, throw everything out of order, and vanish before you could make him clean up his mess. Family was wonderful, but there were times, many of them, that she'd be happy to trade in her brothers for only two Knuts.

She wondered whether Hermione was going to pretend that nothing had happened.

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Hermione washed the dishes by hand rather than trusting them to either the Muggle dishwasher or a charm. It gave her time to think and kept her from looking at anyone else in the apartment. She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around Harry being with Luna and Malfoy -- no, Draco; she supposed she'd have to get used to calling the insufferable twit by his first name. She couldn't believe she'd grilled Ron about their failed sex life in front of her friends.

And she especially couldn't figure out what was going on between her and Ginny.

That little game of footsie, Ginny's comparison of them to Ron and Padma, and the way she hadn't insisted that nothing had happened, seemed to indicate that Hermione hadn't driven her friend away and that Ginny might even be up for something more... but Hermione wasn't certain. The only other time she'd considered a physical relationship had been with Ron, and look how that had turned out. She was sure Ginny would at least be more considerate about turning her down, but she didn't want to risk that. It was safer not to even ask.

She'd leave the next move to Ginny.

Ginny had put away Hermione's clothes and was now firmly ensconced in the shower, while Luna had herded Harry and Draco back into the spare room -- it still seemed odd not to have Harry sleeping there regularly, though Hermione already had trouble remembering that Ginny's bedroom had belonged to Ron just a few months ago -- presumably to tidy up and get dressed.

Ginny had been right; strange as it was to think of him that way, long after their quickly-fizzled attempt at a school romance, Harry was hot stuff. Luna was a certifiable nutcase, but she had a peculiar, dreamy self-confidence that compensated for her lack of grace. And, Hermione added in the privacy of her mind, while Draco Malfoy was still a rat-faced, whey-skinned bastard, he didn't look half bad bare-chested.

She still liked Ginny best, though.

Hermione hoped she hadn't sounded too desperate last night. Her memories were still a bit blurry, but she suspected that if she'd lost her inhibitions enough to hang all over Ginny and ask for sex, she might also have let slip that she'd been thinking about her friend for a while now, and hadn't been looking particularly hard for new objects of lust to distract herself.

"Hermione?" She looked up, making an inquiring noise in response to Harry's question.

He was leaning in his old doorway, a set of crumpled sheets in his arms; miniature Snitches darted across the orange fabric, flashing in and out of sight in the folds. "Why were you using Ron's sheets on the spare bed? You hate them, and he's been trying to find them for months."

"You mean those aren't yours, Potter?" Malfoy -- no, Draco -- chimed in from somewhere out of Hermione's sight.

Harry turned in the doorway and pulled a face. "I have some taste, Malfoy, and I'm not obsessed enough with Quidditch to want flying balls on my sheets."

"The possible innuendo in that is so obvious that I won't even bother mocking you for it." Draco joined Harry in the doorway, dressed once again in his tight trousers and red shirt, looking much more rumpled than last night. "So, Granger, why do you have Weasley's sheets? Still pining for him despite your protests?"

Hermione clenched her hands around the sponge and carefully didn't throw it at his smirking face. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, I'm not. As for the sheets, you'd have to ask Ginny."

"The Quidditch sheets? That's revenge for letting the twins at one of my potions," said Ginny, reappearing from the bathroom, face glowing and dark red hair dripping down the back of her fluffy robe. "They replicated it, used it in a chocolate, and got a patent so I had to pay them for the right to use it instead of the other way around."

She grinned, the twinkle in her eye reminiscent of Fred and George at their worst. "Actually, don't bother cleaning the sheets. I'll give them to Ron as is and tell him what you used them for."

Harry coughed suspiciously, while Draco threw back his head and laughed openly. "Weasley, you're my kind of evil. Take pictures."

Hermione felt that she ought to step in to defend Ron, since no one else was, but she'd sided with Ginny in the original fight over the 'misplaced' potion, and she was still peeved at him for barging in this morning. He'd decided to spend the weekend with Padma instead of helping her unwind, which was perfectly reasonable, but he should have trusted Ginny not to let anything awful happen. They were grown women; there was no need to come check up on them.

Besides, Ron was always saying she needed to develop her sense of humor. This certainly ought to count as a step in that direction.

"Make sure to get duplicates for me," she said, setting the last plate in the drying rack and rinsing her hands. "I want to know how long the dead fish expression lasts before he realizes what he's holding."

Harry adopted his own dead fish expression, while Ginny and Draco gave her unsettlingly similar considering looks. "Granger, I think I could get to like you," said Draco after a few seconds. "What do you say -- friends?"

"You're a snide, self-absorbed twit, but you must have some redeeming qualities or Harry wouldn't like you," said Hermione, drying her hands and moving into the main room. "I suppose we can give it a try."

"Oh, that's a relief," said Luna, joining Harry and Draco. "It's always best when people get along."

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes at the platitude.

"But arguments are so much fun!" said Draco. "Think how boring our life would be if we agreed on everything. You'd go mad in days... oh, I forgot -- you're already--"

Luna pinched Draco's arse. He broke off with an undignified yelp reminiscent of his days as their incompetent school nemesis, and Harry laughed, a smile splitting his face as Draco pouted and tried to look pitiful, overacting as always.

Harry said they made him happy. Hermione hadn't quite believed that, hadn't seen how Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy, of all people, could fit together with him, but maybe they did. It made no sense on the face of it, but then, love had proved itself to be anything but logical.

Maybe love was supposed to be senseless -- sweeping into ordered lives to shake things up, pushing people down paths they'd never consider on their own. Maybe that was why she and Ron hadn't worked out. There was nothing surprising about their relationship, after all, no paths she hadn't considered a hundred times before they first kissed... at least until he'd broken things off. That she hadn't expected.

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was watching the byplay with an indulgent expression. The idea of kissing Ginny hadn't so much as crossed her mind until the day she'd looked up from lunch as her friend stretched her arms above her head and her navel ring glinted in the sun, making Hermione's mouth go dry. Even after that, she'd confined herself to the occasional idle fantasy, assuming her interest would fade sooner or later, and Ginny would never reciprocate anyway.

She had no idea where they might go if they did start anything. Ginny hadn't ever shown any interest in a long-term relationship, just going off with a succession of one-night conquests -- 'playing the game,' as she said, 'scratching the itch.' Was there any hope she'd want something more serious with Hermione? Was there hope she'd give up her string of men for a woman? Would she be willing to kiss Hermione, touch Hermione, have sex with Hermione?

Hermione had no idea. She had no plans. It felt very strange.

"We should head out," said Harry, "and let you have your flat back. Ginny, where do you want the sheets?"

"Dump them on the bed." Ginny walked over to hug Harry and Luna, and pat Draco on the shoulder. In her bathrobe, no less -- she had no shame. It was one of her more interesting qualities. "Now that you're not hiding from us, I expect to see you people more often!"

Harry looked uncertainly at Hermione.

She sighed. There were days she would love to steal an experimental Time Turner and whisk him away from the Dursleys before they convinced him he was a worthless freak, but that was impossible. "The flat's always open to you," she said, smiling. "I don't want to start losing touch with my best friends again."

Harry relaxed a trifle, but still looked utterly surprised when Hermione hugged him. Luna smiled indulgently, and Draco tipped her a small salute behind Harry's back, silently mouthing, 'Thank you.'

Maybe he really wasn't half bad these days.

Luna checked the boys to make sure they had all their things, deposited the dirty sheets on the spare bed, and grabbed Harry and Draco's hands. Draco raised his wand, winked, and Apparated them away, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone in their flat.

Hermione looked nervously at her friend. Ginny shuffled her feet.

"So."

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Er, we should talk."

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea."

"Yeah."

They stared at each other in silence.

"So," Hermione tried again, and couldn't think what to say next.

"Okay, this is ridiculous," said Ginny, flopping onto the sofa. "We could stand around all day without getting anywhere, and that would be utterly stupid. Listen, I meant what I said to Ron -- I'm willing to see what happens. But I don't know what you want to happen. And I never thought about sex with girls before, not seriously anyhow.

"So tell me what you want and we'll go from there."

Hermione gulped. She didn't want to make the first serious move, didn't want to lay any expectations on Ginny. What if she drove Ginny away? And how on earth could Ginny talk about sex so calmly?

She needed to be calm. Rational. List her hopes and expectations and make them into a plan.

"Er, first of all, I still want to be friends," she started. "And more, if you're willing -- we could kiss, and touch... And... and only me, not other people too. I don't want just one night, like you usually do. You... you mean a lot to me, and..." Hermione trailed off, watching Ginny's neutral face. "You don't want that, do you."

Ginny tapped her fingers on the sofa arm, thinking. "I don't know," she said eventually. "Of course we'll still be friends. And I'd be okay with kissing, at least -- I've done that much before. As for sex, I suppose that depends on how the kissing goes."

Hermione bit her lip. "And the rest?" New paths were opening up in her mind, paths that went further than just one-sided admiration or a no-strings bit of fun. Maybe she could tie herself and Ginny together and build something lasting -- but not against Ginny's will, not unless it was a mutual choice.

Ginny had gone still. "You're asking a lot, especially since we don't know it will even work once. I don't do well with long-term things."

"But why? You don't have any trouble with long-term friends. Is romance really so different?"

Ginny shrugged, pulling her bathrobe more tightly around herself. "It's more -- you give up more of yourself, tell more of your secrets, need more in return. I don't like being vulnerable. Not since..."

Hermione sat down beside Ginny. "You already know most of my secrets. I trust you with them. Can't you trust me?"

"...I want to say yes." Ginny leaned against Hermione, pulling her feet up onto the sofa and curling in on herself. "I know you wouldn't betray me. But I'm out of the habit. Since... since Tom, really. And now you know one of my secrets." She smiled, clearly making an effort to lighten the mood, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

Hermione bit her lip, damning Tom Riddle and his diary. She'd never suspected this... this wariness was hiding under Ginny's confidence and easy smiles. This complicated things. But Ginny was still Ginny, still funny, smart, gorgeous, sexy, and definitely worth Hermione's time and effort. She was worth a lot more than she thought she was.

"I can go slowly," said Hermione. "You don't have to tell me everything until you're ready. But can we at least try?"

Ginny turned to face Hermione, damp hair straggling around her face. "Try what?"

Hermione shrugged. "A kiss?"

Ginny looked thoughtful, then leaned forward and pressed her lips against Hermione's. It was only a soft contact at first, letting them both get used to the feeling, to the idea of kissing each other. Hermione held still for several seconds, trying to convince herself that this was really happening. This was really Ginny in her arms. This was really Ginny kissing her.

Tentatively -- she hadn't done this in years, after all, and this was Ginny! -- she let her lips part, breathing against Ginny's mouth.

Ginny's tongue flicked out and danced along the inner edge of Hermione's lip.

Oh! Hermione let the little jolt of surprise and sensation curl inside. Ron had never been that delicate; he'd pushed harder and spent more time on other things, mostly involving his hands. This teasing was strange, but she thought she liked it. She let her tongue run across Ginny's lips, slowly, lightly.

Ginny hummed in her throat, the sound vibrating in her teeth and jaw and tingling against Hermione's tongue. Her hands left her bathrobe, coming to rest on Hermione's waist and rubbing, while her tongue danced around the front of Hermione's mouth. Then she pulled back, holding Hermione's lower lip between her teeth for just a second, extending the contact, and then letting go.

"That was nice, but I'm not feeling wild, desperate passion here," said Ginny, smiling. "Are you sure you want to have sex with me?"

"Ginny! ...Er, yes. I do."

Ginny's eyes crinkled with mischief. "Prove it, then. Kiss me like you mean it."

"But--"

"Go on, be sloppy, be wild. Sex isn't all sweetness and rose petals, after all -- it's fun, it can be great, maybe even beautiful, but it's a sweaty mess as much as anything else. Kiss me like that and we'll see what happens." Ginny grinned. "Unless you're too scared when you're sober; maybe this was all just an alcohol-induced--"

Hermione shifted her grip to Ginny's shoulders, pulled her in, and -- ignoring the part of her mind that was screaming for caution, for carefully laid plans -- kissed her, biting, licking, and doing her best to keep Ginny from talking. Her hand slid inside Ginny's bathrobe, exploring downward, hunting for that infuriating navel-ring. Aha! There it was; she tweaked it, rubbing around Ginny's stomach and dipping even lower to--

An odd sense of déjà vu swept over Hermione, and she pulled back, breathing heavily.

Ginny blinked, took a deep breath, and said, "Okay, so it wasn't just the alcohol."

"I tried that last night, didn't I," said Hermione.

"Kissing me? Not like that. Getting your hands into my knickers, yes." Ginny looked speculatively at Hermione. "You're not half bad at this, for a virgin. It's still a bit weird, thinking seriously about sex with a girl -- with my best friend! -- but... this might actually work. At least the sex part." She grinned. "I have wondered what breasts feel like in bed, once in a while..."

Hermione bit her lip. "And the rest? You already know most of my secrets."

After a few seconds, Ginny shrugged. "Well, you know one of mine now, too -- nobody else knows that about me and Tom -- and I'm not dead yet. Let's take it one day at a time. Like I told Ron, we'll see what happens."

That wasn't exactly what Hermione wanted to hear, but it was probably the best she could have hoped for under the circumstances. And in all honesty, taking it one day at a time didn't sound that bad. She trusted Ginny. Maybe that was enough. Maybe this time she could let the illogic of love and emotions run its course without trying to interfere.

Yes. She could do that. "As long as 'what happens' includes me not being a virgin anymore."

Ginny smiled, reaching out to undo the buttons on Hermione's nightdress. "I think that can be arranged. But let's move this to a bed -- mine, I think, since yours will just remind me of Ron and other irrelevant--"

Hermione silenced her with a kiss.

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End of Story

Back to part 5

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And that, as they say, is that. I have no plans for a sequel at this time, though considering that I didn't intend to write this story, I wouldn't rule it out entirely. Maybe something about Remus, or Ron and Padma, or random snippits of everyday life. That's how Restoration happened, after all -- a bunch of strung-together snippits.

And I do like this particular post-war universe.

But I will not let my mind wander just yet! Instead, I will finish "The Way of the Apartment Manager." (Which has its own problems in terms of going away from my outline -- at this point, it needs two endings: one gloomy to return it to canon and one happier to go off on an AU tangent -- but which does have a definite plot arc.)