I didn't consider myself to be beautiful, by any means. I'm skinny, short, flat chested and freckle faced. Just a little kid me with a woman's mind, but I had bagged Harry Potter, so I had to be special, right? We'd been dating since his sixth year, three long years of a great relationship and one year of great sex. It was Christmas vacation when I slipped away from my job for lunch and into the flat he and Ronald shared for some quick sex and a meal. The door groaned loudly as I opened it, and I cursed it for betraying my entrance. Imagine my confusion when I realized it was not the door that moaned, and my heart hit my stomach as I placed the noises.
"Harry..." I heard a voice plead breathlessly. "Harry, don't stop!" I could've puked, then and there, but I forced myself to move forward. I peeked into the bedroom and my eyes widened. My Harry, my fiance with his mouth on another man's cock. The man closed his eyes and intertwined his fingers in Harry's messy locks, as I had done many times. I couldn't hold back the horrified gasp that escaped my lips, and my hands went to my mouth. Both of the men looked up at me, eyes wide and as horrified as I currently was.
"Ginny..." Harry began. "I.. It just.. Happened." He looked at me, his green eyes pleading with me. I was speechless, my mind froze in a hazy attempt to process what he was saying. My throat constricted as I turned to run. It felt like slow motion as I fled away from the object of my love fucking someone I trusted. I stopped to catch my breath outside, ignoring the disgusting London street as I slid to the concrete with my back to the outside wall of his flat. Tears ran silently down my cheeks. I never considered myself to be beautiful by any means, but I always thought I was prettier than Ron.