
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/107434.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Cho_Chang/Hermione_Granger
  Character:
      Cho_Chang, Hermione_Granger
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-08-15 Words: 1341
****** Glue ******
by tornyourdress
Summary
     Post-OotP. Cho needs someone to hold things together for her.


She's the glue holding the pieces together.
She hates being the glue. She hates being depended upon like this, the solution
to the problem, the shoulder to cry on, the girl to fuck so Cho can forget.
Why one of the prettiest girls in the school hasn't been satisfied with any of
the Quidditch players she's gone out with is anyone's guess. But Hermione
thinks she knows. There was only one, after all, that made a difference, and he
can't be replaced, so matter how hard she tries. So Cho has opted for the
antithesis of Cedric, a rather plain studious elf-rights-activist who offered
her a few kind words of sympathy last year.
She's good at understanding things, good at listening, but bad at doing nothing
but listen. She's used to seeing results when she puts an effort in, but in
this case – words of advice are rarely heeded. She doesn't have the words to
solve this one.
And so, very often, they forget about the words. Why bother with telling Cho
how much she wishes she could help when a kiss says it better? Her tongue
sliding into Cho's mouth is far more eloquent than any collection of words
could be.
She hates kissing her to make her feel better. She wants to be kissing her
because Cho wants to be kissed by her, not because Cho needs someone to
distract her.
And yet she is being the girl who distracts her, and she does a very good job
of it. She remembers the first time – an encounter in one of the girls'
bathrooms that started off with a comforting arm around Cho's shoulder and
progressed to an awkward kiss, awkward because she hadn't ever done this
before, really, because Viktor had always been so chaste, kissing her gently on
the mouth with his hands planted firmly on her waist, and this was different.
This was what she'd imagined kissing should be, with enthusiasm, with mouths
pressed together and tongues exploring and even though it took her by surprise
and Cho was holding onto her just a little too tightly, it was something she
treasured for weeks afterward, smiling to herself whenever she thought about it
much to the bewilderment of Harry and Ron. She replayed it in her mind, and
whenever she saw Cho in the Great Hall, she alternated between sneaking glances
in the direction of the Ravenclaw table and avoiding looking in that direction
completely for fear someone would notice. She didn't speak to Cho again until
three weeks later, another bathroom, another kiss, but this time she was more
confident, this time there were hands tugging impatiently at where white
blouses were neatly tucked into skirts and button-opening charms being cast and
she was daring enough to be the one to move her fingers underneath Cho's bra,
daring enough to undo it and let it fall to the floor. She was stroking soft,
warm skin when they heard the door open, and both she and Cho jumped slightly
and checked that their cubicle door was locked, and froze for a moment at the
unexpected intrusion, the reminder of reality, and Hermione had a moment to
ponder why, exactly, she was in here with Cho Chang, and what it meant, and if
indeed it meant anything at all, but then she found herself kissing Cho again,
and these questions seemed to fade away.
The next time they saw one another, an arranged meeting this time, late at
night in the Ravenclaw common room, Cho wasn't tearful, but she was quiet, and
subdued, and Hermione tried talking to her, encouraged her to discuss whatever
was on her mind. She stroked Cho's hand in what was intended as a friendly
gesture, and Cho moved closer, and they were kissing again, and somehow this
felt as though it was making a difference in a way that listening couldn't.
That was the beginning of it all, and now – now she's not sure what to do. She
hates being this and only this to Cho. But she loves – she loves that Cho
sneaks into her dormitory late at night and crawls under the covers to be with
her. She loves having another warm body in bed next to her, a beautiful body
that's like her own and yet not – Cho's stomach is tauter than her own,
presumably from Quidditch, and her breasts are smaller. Her hair is longer and
darker and straighter and silkier and it falls in her eyes when it isn't tied
back, and strands of it have found their way into Hermione's mouth during a
kiss more than once. Not that she minds, really. It tickles her breasts as Cho
kisses them, and she enjoys the sensation of the soft hair moving downwards
with its owner, as Cho's tongue licks a trail down her stomach.
Her roommates have yet to comment on these nightly visits, but she suspects
that despite the attempts at discretion and the silencing charms around the
bed, they know, just as they all knew when Seamus was sneaking in to see
Lavender last year.
And she is grateful for the silencing charms, and the curtains drawn around the
bed, so that the others can't hear her moaning softly – she never means to, it
always seems so ridiculous when she thinks about it later, but when Cho's
fingers are pushing apart her thighs and her tongue is leaving trails of
moisture in an area that is rather moist already, she can't help making some
kind of noise, it seems absurd to stay silent when Cho's tongue is teasing her
clit and her fingers are sliding inside her and the combination of both is
driving her crazy. She can feel something rising up inside her – no, too soon,
too soon – and she is moaning again and her hips are bucking and Cho's mouth is
closer than ever, pressed so close that it almost hurts and yet she wants more
closeness, more pressure, and with one shuddering gasp it's over, all over far
too soon.
Cho shifts herself so that they are face-to-face again, and they are kissing
once more, though Hermione is not particularly fond of tasting herself in Cho's
mouth. The sheets beneath her are damp, and she finds herself wishing that Cho
would leave so she could clean up, instead of expecting her to reciprocate.
But she can hardly ask Cho to leave now. She'll have to give an explanation,
she'll have to do something other than be soft and gentle and sympathetic and
kind and loving, and she can't imagine how Cho would react to that.
So instead she is licking her way down Cho's body, the beautiful body that so
many have fantasised about, including one of her best friends, and tells
herself that she's lucky. Tells herself that she is fortunate to have Cho, to
have someone depend on her like this and not be able to get through a day
without at least one private moment.
And she is beautiful. And sweet, and funny, when she wants to be.
Hermione tells herself this, over and over, as she kisses Cho between her legs,
licking her gently and then more firmly, paying attention to the small noises
Cho makes, listening to the whispered instructions until Cho comes, and her
fingers are entangled in Hermione's hair at this stage and it hurts when she
tightens her grasp as she arches her back, but Hermione doesn't complain.
Two hot sweaty exhausted naked figures lie next to one another on the bed, the
blankets somewhere near their knees at this stage, and as Cho's breathing
returns to normal, she turns to Hermione and smiles and says, "I love you."
She doesn't mean it, of course. Hermione has figured that out by now, even if
the smile makes her melt and makes her ache to be touched again, even if she
wants to believe it.
She will hate herself for saying this tomorrow morning, but she echoes the "I
love you" anyway, and Cho smiles again.
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