Harry Potter and the Womb of Requirement NOW CODED

21

Ginny slid out of her lover’s arms and ran a bath, the night drawing on. She felt a bubble of excitement in her gut. The bath poured, she woke her lover with kisses, watched those chocolate eyes open, the band of gold around the pupils wide. She adored those eyes, losing herself a moment. {Come on, I’m running us a bath}, she tugged a sleepy Hermione to her and kissed her, then skipped into the bathroom. Hermione followed dozily and collapsed into the other end of the bath. Ginny grinned. First thing in the morning, and Hermione was as sharp as a tack, but after an afternoon siesta, she was a complete dimwit for a good while. Ginny loved her Missy in this state.

Ginny washed their hair, relishing Hermione’s complete submission to her head massage, rinsing gently. Eventually Hermione shook her wet head, the life returning to her, and helped rinse Ginny’s hair. They kissed severally, then clambered out of the bath and dried each other, shaking out and donning their best dresses. Hermione applied make-up, first to herself, then to her Girlie, turning her beauty from a thing only she, perhaps, could see, into something everyone could spot from a mile off.

She turned Ginny to the mirror. Large smudgy eyes. Warm pinky brown lips. A little pain as eyebrows were shaped, but there’s no beauty without a little pain?

Ginny was stunned. She slipped her feet into her new shoes and stood, several inches taller. She stepped away from the dressing table and practiced walking in her new heels, higher than anything she had ever walked on before. Then picking a corner of the room, catwalked across it, her hips twitching, then turning, a hand to a thrust out hip, a blown kiss over one shoulder. Hermione was captivated. When her breathing normalised, she sent, {You know, you could probably do that for a living, don’t you?, modelling?}. Ginny shrugged. She had no idea what Hermione was talking about.

Hermione readied herself, thinking. Ginny’s brothers were going to get such a surprise. On impulse, she dug around in her trunk, bringing out a small box, and sat on the bed, holding it in her lap. Ginny walked over and sat beside her, {What’s that then, Missy?}, she leaned in, but Hermione kept the box closed. She had been carrying this everywhere with her, since she was ten. She took a deep breath, {Girlie, I want you to have this. Please don’t freak out. Just let me, okay?}.

She looked into Ginny’s green-grey eyes, saw her lover nod. {Close your eyes}, Ginny complied. She felt Hermione tuck her hair behind an ear, then remove her gold earstud, replacing it with something else. Hermione moved off the bed to her other side and repeated her actions. {Lift up your hair, love}, and she felt Hermione place something around her neck, moving behind her to fasten it. {Now go and look in the mirror}.

Ginny let her hair fall again as she stood, walking over to the glass. She tucked her hair away, and gasped, one hand flying to the jewel winking in the light at her throat. A pair of pear shaped deep green stones adorned her ears, while a larger, teardrop shaped stone of identical hue lay on her breastbone, just below the hollow of her neck, hanging from a simple exquisitely delicate chain.

Ginny could feel herself start to tremble, {These are real aren’t they?}, her send whispered. Hermione was behind her, resting her chin on Ginny’s shoulder, threading her arms around her Girlie’s waist, {Yes. Balinese Emeralds, amongst the rarest in the world. They were my Grandmother’s. She bequeathed them to me when she died. I have never worn them, but I have taken them everywhere with me since I was ten, and now I want you to have them, my bond-mate, my beloved, my own}.

Ginny’s eyes teared as Hermione turned her around in her arms, then held her tight, {Will you be mine, Ginny, forever}. Ginny shied away a little at this, her eyes widening into Hermione’s, reading doubt and uncertainty, but such love. {What about next year?. You will have left school and I will still be there}. Hermione ran her hands into Ginny’s lustrous mane and kissed her, {I will wait for you}. As the kiss deepened, Ginny pressed her body into her beloved’s and sent, {Then the answer is yes}.

They finally came up for air, flushed and grinning, {Let’s go dancing, Girlie}, Hermione sent as they parted, picking up their handbags, they donned their jackets and left the room. They caused somewhat of a stir as they descended the stairs and walked through the pub and out through the back door, a couple of wolf-whistles accompanying them as they left.

They let themselves into Diagon Alley, both dressed to kill, they walked the few yards to the twins’ shop and rang the bell, various eyes following them. The door clicked open, and they climbed the stairs. Hermione entered first, to the sound of dropped jaws, but when Ginny made her entrance, breath stalled a moment as her brothers stared. Blaise breathed first, {Ladies!}, he exclaimed, {You. Are. Stunning}. He sent the opinion of every one of them. Ginny stalked over to Ron, divesting him of the tie, {Lose it, brother}. Everyone had watched her walk. Blaise sent to her, {Ginny, have you ever thought about modelling, I have a cousin who’s a photographer. I bet he’d do your book for free}. Ginny looked confused. This was the second time tonight.

They stepped into Muggle-world, Hermione hailing a taxi, expertly giving an address, receiving in reply, “That club’s been gone ages, Miss, but I can take you to somewhere really hot”. His eyes met hers in the mirror, Hermione’s drilling into him. {It’d better be}, she bathed his mind, causing him to swerve slightly. From then on, he kept his eyes resolutely on the road, until he dropped them outside a swanky place with a begloved doorman, instead of the usual surly bouncer.

{Wow, this place looks posh}. Hermione rolled her eyes, {It’s round the corner, Ron}. They found the place tucked into a little side street, were looked over once or twice by the doormen, and admitted. They paid the entrance fee and went in. The noise hit them in a wave. There were three dancefloors all with different flavours of music. They picked the one they liked the sound of best, and they parted, the girls to find seats and the boys washed up to the bar. Hermione found an empty table, and soon they were all sipping beers taking in the scene.

The dancefloor was half full. Mainly gay couples, but some straight. It was the sort of place gay folk could bring their straight mates, and the four relaxed. Ron and Blaise checking out the talent on the floor, Hermione was distracted by her lover as she removed her coat, the jewels that Hermione had given her earlier winking in the dim light, and they kissed again, Ginny still stunned from Hermione’s words earlier. What did she mean, were they a vow, an oath, a bond, a proposal?. For now, she let the music wash over her, the alcohol relax her, and the questing tongue in her mouth undo her.

Hermione stood and held her hand out to her lover, {Dance with me, my love}. Ginny licked her lips and, standing, followed her girlfriend to the dancefloor. The boys watched them go, {I never realised your sister was so beautiful, Ron}. Ron glanced at his lover, leaning in and kissing him, {Believe me, neither did I, until I saw her tonight. I’ve never seen her wear make-up before}.

As they reached the dancefloor, Hermione took Ginny into her arms and they swayed together, letting the music take them. Another of life’s pleasures that Hermione had introduced her lover to, was music, in as many forms as she could, and Ginny had lapped it up. There just wasn’t much music in the Magical world, and nothing like this. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione was just aware of the boys joining them.

A few tracks later, the girls mutually called a time-out and went back to their seats, Ginny still twitching her hips as she walked. From the other side of the club, a young man watched, his mouth going dry, his boyfriend noticed, a grin spreading over his face as his lover rose and made a bee-line for the captivating red-head. This could be his breakthrough as a spotter, the girl was stunning, and the way she walked. A natural.

In a daze, he approached their table, closer to, the girl was even more incredibly beautiful. He stopped for a moment, noting the chiselled cheekbones, the long, fluid jaw, those amazing eyes raised to her lover. He took a deep breath and drew closer, grabbing a stool and parked himself at their table, attracting their attention with a polite cough. Two pairs of eyes regarded him coolly and warily, until he held his hand out and introduced himself, “Scott Winterton. I’m a talent scout. I look out for potential models”, he spoke to Hermione, divining with his inbuilt radar, that she was the ‘top’, “And I think your girlfriend could be a highly successful model. Let me give you my card”. He fumbled in a pocket, and laid a card on the table. Ginny picked it up, peering at it in the dim light. “I’m still at school. I’ve got over a year to go yet”.

Scott turned his attention to her at last, noting the clear skin, the green-grey of her eyes, the straight nose, the curve of her mouth. “Let me take a couple of test shots with my phone, please?”. Ginny looked to Hermione, who nodded. “Yes, okay”. He whipped out his mobile and shot several pictures, then showed them to the girls. “These are fantastic, despite low light and a crap camera. You must call me when you get out of school. For someone like you, I will wait. I only deal with the best agencies”. He named one of the biggest. No reaction. Then mentioned a girl’s name, the hottest model. He couldn’t quite believe the bemused shrug he received in reply. “You are a real find, honestly. Ring me, just ring me, okay?”, he grinned at them, backing away, blowing them a kiss and stalking away, resisting the urge to punch the air in triumph.

Hermione plucked the card from Ginny’s stunned fingers and stashed it in her bag, {Look at it this way, if you’re stuck for a job after school, you could always give this a go, though, frankly, I think you could be huge, and that scout clearly thinks so, too. That woman he mentioned?}, Ginny nodded, {She’s only the biggest supermodel on the planet}. Ginny still looked confused. Hermione loved her lover’s innocence, {I’ll explain later}, and she kissed her, {Let’s dance again, baby. I love you so much}. A slow Destiny’s Child track made them move together and Ginny remembered their slow dances in Hermione’s bedroom, moaning against Hermione’s neck as they moved.

In the taxi on the way back, Ginny related the tale of the model scout to her brother and his beloved. {Told you so}, Blaise sent. {And if he can get you into that agency girl, your future is assured, believe me. I’ve had a couple of agencies offer me work last summer, but no-one of that calibre}.

With a mind somewhat emboldened by alcohol, she appraised Blaise frankly. Her eyes travelled from crisply curled black hair, over a finely boned face, noting the olive skin, and the deep chocolate eyes, the aristocratic cast of the nose, the full lips, the broad shoulders, long limbs, flat stomach, a light scattering of chest hair, his shirt being half-open as he leaned against Ron, whose hand was sneaking in. Ginny grinned, {You two are hot, you know that, don’t you?}. She winked at her brother as he raised his head, before lowering it to meet Blaise’s raised lips. She watched idly as they kissed, saw as Blaise’s lips were parted by her brother’s insistent tongue, felt heat wash over her, but she couldn’t look away. She felt Hermione’s arms go round her, then her send, {They’re good together aren’t they}, then a searing tongue on her neck, she moaned aloud.

Ron heard as they parted, glanced over, watching his sister unravel as Hermione left little sucking bites along her shoulder, They were back in front of the Cauldron, Hermione paid the cabbie, and unlocked the door. The pub was long since closed, but since the girls were staying, they had a key for entry after-hours. They kissed the boys before letting them out the back, then locking up, and staggering to their rooms, after a fortifying firewhisky from behind the untended bar, they tried not to make too much noise as they headed upstairs. They kissed at every turn in the stairs, seeking the sanctuary of their room. They tumbled inside, laying silencing charms in a hurry. Then Hermione faced her lover, alone at last. She sat on the bed, patting the space next to her. Ginny kicked off her shoes and clambered up.

Hermione dug out the weed and skins and rolled one. She rose from the bed, padding across to one of the wall sconces, lighting it, the sweet pungent scent filling the room. As before, she took a drag, inhaled, and breathed the residue into her lover, who she held against her. Heard the first giggle, no paleness this time. Several more tokes, and Ginny murmured, {I wish we had some music}. {Ssshhh, imagine it}. They rose and danced together to remembered tunes, and Hermione got another of her many ideas.

Before she took hold of her Girlie, kissing her hard, pushing her back over the bed, tonight she just bound her eyes, not her wrists, and in short order had her Girlie mewling and crying out, begging in that sweet way she had, to be taken. Hermione had just the thing to hand, warming it between her hands, then pushing it into her lover’s wet heat, lowering her mouth, gently sucking at her hard spot. Ginny was a mess beneath her, bucking and writhing. A deep thrust forcing her over the edge, screaming Hermione’s name, before she collapsed.

Moments later, she opened her eyes, as the blindfold was gently removed, into bewitching brown and gold. Hermione held her tight. {Lost you just then. Glad you’re back}. She was thrown onto her back as Ginny devoured her, nibbling and licking until her tongue found riches and ate, consumed, until Hermione melted in her mouth. Pulling her lover to her, they kissed long and deep, then covered themselves in blankets and slept.

xxxxxxx

The next day mainly involved dealing with hangovers, many and various. Ginny’s head hurt, while Hermione was as bright as a button. She grinned and coddled her girlfriend through it, with plenty of drinks to rehydrate her. Ginny slept through most of the afternoon, only surfacing as the daylight faded, bright and cogent once more.

Ron’s head hurt, big style. Blaise wasn’t too clever either. It was the shots. Very powerful alcohol had been imbibed the night before. George and Fred fed them drinks, and when they could hold it down, food.

The girls braved early evening London and went in search of sustenance, deciding on a delicious greasy fry up, admired by several truckers, as the two slim girls ate enough for four. Murmurs passing to the effect, “I like a girl who eats”, to “that skinny, and eats like a horse too”. The girls only had eyes for each other. They left a tip and exited. To a few wolf-whistles. Ginny turned at the door, blew the cafe a kiss and stepped out, to cheers from within. She grinned cheekily at Hermione, who just shrugged, and they made their way back to Diagon Alley and the twins’ flat.

The four boys were eating as the girls arrived. They all sat in the small living room swapping stories about the night before. The twins rolled joints. Hermione held a lungful of smoke, mentally querying her lover, who declined, then proceeded to get stoned and giggly with the twins.

That night, Ginny let her lover sleep as she packed both of their trunks. As she laid a garment into Hermione’s case, she noticed a corner of paper at the bottom of Hermione’s trunk, she moved the clothes on top, and felt around. Actually it was a sheaf of papers. She glanced at her lover. Still asleep, then drew the papers out. Four little charcoal sketches, neatly labelled and dated. All of Ginny sleeping, in various poses. In each, cloth covered her sex, but her breasts were on show. On her back, one arm flung over her head, another with her curled on her side. Another had her reaching sleepily over an empty pillow, her slight frown captured, the last had her spread-eagled across the bed, her hair fanned out around her head, a faint smile on her face. This was the best of the four in Ginny’s opinion. She gazed at it for quite a while before re-packing the drawings where she’d found them.

The next morning saw Hermione wake in a panic, to find her trunk already neatly packed, her clean uniform laid out and her lover sweetly asleep. She undid her schoolbag withdrawing a pad and charcoal, making another quick sketch, Ginny half turned onto her back, her waterfall of hair spread out along the arm on which her head rested. Curled up, she looked like a naked Klimt‘s Danae. Ginny was already a model.