Title: Fruit of Deception

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: T (sexuality)

Pairing: Harry/Ginny, also contains hints of unconventional relationships, including slash (merely implied)

Summary: Ginny POV. She thinks about what Harry wants and what he really married her for. H/G (contains other implied pairings)

He always called me gorgeous. It was his pet name for me. When he woke in the morning, and blinked sleepily at me with those wonderful green eyes, his lips would curl, and he'd tug me towards him. "Morning gorgeous," he'd murmur, and everything would be fine. We'd lie there wrapped in white cotton sheets, the warmth of our bodies filling the room, the taste of his lips smudged across mine. I'd think drowsily, that that was what love tasted like.

So I ignored the little things that didn't fit. I ignored the fact that he flinched when I suggested children, even though we'd been married for four years. I ignored that he spent more time discussing books with Hermione, and playing Quidditch with Ron than he did with me. I ignored the fact my husband was a coward, and that we were living a lie.

I am beautiful. I say that without preamble because it's the truth, and I'd be being falsely modest if I lied and said I was plain. I'm in the prime of my life- I'm twenty three years old, and I can say with no exaggeration that when it comes to looks, there are not many who can touch me. There are only three people who I can honestly say have never noticed my looks whether in a platonic cheering way like Bill telling me I look beautiful, or in the sexual glances I get thrown my way if I venture down Knockturn Alley by mistake. One is Ron. To my brother I will always be eleven years old, needing to be saved from Dark Lords, the unwanted attentions of boyfriends and anything else that struck him as dangerous. I wondered for years why he hadn't put up opposition at Harry marrying me, until I finally realised that Ron never viewed Harry as dangerous. It took me another couple of years to figure out why.

Hermione is the second one. There are two types of girls, girls who envy my looks (even when they're more beautiful than me as many of them are, they rationalise that I must have something special to have caught Harry Potter.) Then there are the few girls who'd rather be with me. I've nothing against lesbians, though I've never tried it, and it was quite flattering to think that some girls would be attracted to me. But Hermione never showed either of those things. Oh she told me I looked beautiful when I was fretting about having put on weight, but it was in the comforting manner she'd have used for anyone. Hermione is special in her own way, I've always thought she was beautiful to be honest. Not conventionally, but the mind and the emotions inside her have always illuminated her until you forget that she could ever be considered plain. But even so I don't know a girl alive who doesn't envy something about someone else. But if Hermione envied my naturally slim figure, while as she complained- if she even so much as looked at a chocolate bar she put on weight, she never gave a sign.

Harry is the third. Don't laugh. I know I said he calls me gorgeous. Yes I know he's married to me, I know that any other girl would be delighted that he loves me for my mind, for my personality, for my sense of humour. I'm not. You love a best friend for those qualities. I wanted to be loved for everything. I wanted him to be jealous when other men looked at me, when I spent time after work with the male Chasers on my Quidditch team, or flirted outrageously with the bartender. But he would smile at me, and tell me he was glad to have such a wonderful wife. He's attracted to me yes. You can't fake that kind of enthusiasm in bed, but he didn't look at me. Sometimes I wondered if he would even notice if I Polyjuiced into someone else.

I suggested that a few times you know. That we spice up our love life by Polyjuicing ourselves into other people. All the fun of adultery and none of the consequences. It can get pretty kinky to be honest. Everything changes when you take Polyjuice. You can be anything you want to be, the worst enemy you've always wanted to fuck, a man, a woman, beautiful, ugly. Whatever you want. Harry's eyes widened when I suggested it (I always forget that he was brought up a muggle,) but he was cautiously up for it. At least he was, until we began suggesting people to change into. He made it clear that he'd be whoever I wanted him to be- the gorgeous Muggle man in the street, Blaise Zabini, even Dean Thomas. But when I tentatively suggested that I could make the change he froze. I pressed forward eager to see his boundaries. I suggested Hermione, and he flinched as though I had slapped him, and told me he'd never wanted Hermione like that, and that it'd be a betrayal of her friendship. When I suggested others, he refused point blank and told me I was the only woman he wanted. Funny how lies can spill from people's lips.

I had wanted to suggest something even kinkier (I had always fancied being a man for a night,) but his bad reaction to relatively innocent ideas put a stop to that. I actually believed him you know, believed I was the only one he wanted. I can't believe how stupid and naive I was.

Who is Ginny Weasley?





I once had the perfect life. I was all round Quidditch star, the cleverest girl in Gryffindor (after one), gorgeous redhead, funny, humorous, bad-tempered. I was Harry Potter's wife. I was his perfect smokescreen.

One time I believed he wanted Hermione. Wanted the pretty, brilliant, muggle-born witch, who's been at his side since first year, and stuck with him through every danger. Believed that he loved her for her heart, and her mind. Loved her because she was one of the first to offer unconditional love to him.

Another time I thought he wanted Ron. The best friend since his first day on the train. The good looking intensely male man, who Harry looked to as part of himself, valued above everything except maybe Hermione. Who had been the thing he'd miss the most during fourth year.

Now I believe he wants them both.

He can't have one without the other after all. Harry was unloved for eleven years of his life, what more could he crave than his two best friends, in every way possible? What more could he want than the perfect combination of brains and heart.

What he got was me.

Now when I look at myself in the mirror do you know what I see? Red hair, a fierce temper, a Quidditch mad heart-filled Weasley. Ron. And when I turn my head to the other side I see an intelligent, humorous, powerful witch. Hermione. I feel as though he's condensed two people together and that I'm the result. I should be better than both of them- I combine their best qualities. I'm less than either. I'm not good enough for Harry as one whole person, let alone as a substitute for two.

He doesn't know. He tells me he loves me. Tells me I'm all he could ever want. Doesn't know that if Ron and Hermione called, he'd drop everything and run.

He tells me I'm gorgeous. I used to believe him.

Review please.