Your imprint,
Your marks,
Your impact,
All on me to savour.
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So much tension between two girls, so much things to unfold between them, so much to explore within them.
This story contains mature content.
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"You're being stupid, Ronald."
"Don't you dare gaslight me you little—"
"And don't you dare talk to me that way." snapped Hermione harshly, taking the ginger aback. They had plenty of arguments in the past, but Hermione would always try to communicate in a calm tone, she never stooped to her boyfriend's level.
"I'm at perfect liberty to befriend anyone I want. You don't get to control me." she spat, her cheeks flushing red from anger, Ron's ears matched the shade. The ginger could only muster a scoff as Hermione went up to her dormitory.
"(Y/N)," breathed out Hermione in exasperation, feeling her knees wobble from anger and stress, falling to the floor on her knees. But the Slytherin was quick to catch her, she always was. She was so tired to the point she didn't bother asking what the latter was doing in the Gryffindor's dorm.
"I got you." assured (Y/N) softly, cradling the girl in her arms.
"I'm so sick of him." she mumbled as she allowed herself to melt into (Y/N)'s touch, grasping the latter's shirt. "I never complain when he's with Lavender, or the Patil sisters. I don't say a word— he's only getting worked up over you because he sees you as a threat."
"That's a compliment to me." joked (Y/N), trying to lighten the mood. "Pansy's throwing a party tomorrow night in our dorm. Maybe you'd like to join? Just don't use your Head Girl privileges to send everyone back to their bed." she suggested.
"A party?" repeated Hermione with a scrunch of her nose. She never really enjoyed parties. Or atleast the parties that the Slytherins often threw. Bunch of 7th years grinding on eachother, loud music and alot of booze and firewhiskey. "Not my type."
"Hmm," hummed (Y/N), allowing her hand to gently run through Hermione's smooth hair. "Okay. I know your roommates are going to be there— Pansy showed me the list already, so I'll just come here and stay with you, does that sound good?"
Hermione buried her face in the Slytherin's neck to hide her toothy grin.
"Good. I would've snitched on you guys to both Professor Snape and McGonagall."
(Y/N) let out a melodic laugh. The laugh replayed in the Gryffindor's ears. If she told her past self that she'd be here in (Y/N)'s arms, enjoying her presence, taking in her laugh and scent, the past version of her would either slap her or gape at her in disbelief.
How could she not adore the girl that was cradling her ever so gently?
Hermione's parents were dentists, so she rarely ate any sweets, but the Gryffindor had always liked marshmallows, but she preferred to spell them with an e cause it just seemed to fit so much better. Her liking for marshmallows grew at the feeling of her hands in (Y/N)'s hair, fluffy and soft like a marshmallow.
The marshmallow would sometimes stick to her fingers, just like how (Y/N)'s words and actions impacted Hermione and sticked to her.
