This is just a little piece I typed up a while ago, not really knowing what I was doing, and I think I might of been half asleep too. Who knows. :P Anyway, before you say anything, I KNOW that it's filled with fragments and grammar mistakes, but that was kind of what I was going for. Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Saying I owned Harry Potter would be saying I wanted to commit suicide. But I don't, so obviously I don't Harry Potter. I just want to kill JK for screwing up the ending!

Confusion

Confusion. Helplessness. Remorse. Regret. Guilt. Fear. Pain. Heartache. Shame. Sorrow. Worry. Despair. Anguish.

But most of all, I never knew I could hurt so much.

The pain wracks my body; my heart is about to burst. I don't know how much longer I can take this.

Although it hurts, I know I deserve it. As does everyone who has ever done such a deceitful thing as me.

I can see his face now, scrunching up in misery. The pain clear in his bright green eyes.

He'll be the first to turn from me and just like always, everyone else will follow.

Ron's face will get red, his eyes will be angry. His mouth cursing my grave before he even puts me in it.

Hermione will try to understand, but fail. She's not as smart as she thinks, and the concept it just to strange.

Fred will nod. His face will get stony, his eyes blank.

George will shout. He's the more rowdy. He'll ask me how I could do this. Not only to him but to them.

Mum will cry. She'll turn her face. She won't want to look. She won't want to see the child that has betrayed them even more then Percy did.

Da will sit. He'll stare at his hands until I'm about to leave. Then he'll glance up at me and mutter 'How' right before the door shuts.

Percy won't care. He won't know. Until the newspapers get wind at least.

Charlie and Bill…I haven't seen them in such a long time. They'll probably be more disgusted that they're related to me then actually disappointed.

But I don't care. I can't care. Who am I to care about something that I've never been apart of?

For to long I've watched them. I've watched them ignore me. And they don't even notice.

I don't care. I don't. Yet I do. I do more than ever before, and it's eating me alive.

I know what I should do. I know what I have to do. But I don't. Instead I close my eyes and press my head against his chest. He'll be there for me. And that's all I need.

But still I must leave. I must go back. I must pretend. Pretend I actually mean something. For now at least.

So I go. I open the door to the mansion, feeling as if I'm breaking in. Breaking into my own home. How ironic. How cliché.

Sneaking upstairs I try to be quiet. It works, but it's still not enough. Because he's still awake.

I turn the knob, the door opening ever so slowly. If I had known what I was to see I would have done it faster. Fast and enthusiastic.

For on the other side he lay, his hands roaming, his mouth moaning. And another lay with him. I recognized her. They worked together. Only a different kind of work that they had just started to compose. Or rather recompose.

With a gasp they sat up, the hallway light shining in. They saw my standing there, eyes wide.

He stuttered, denying it. It's not what you think. That's what he said. But it was.

She looked as if trying to hide. She didn't want to be seen. Shame and embarrassment splayed across her face. But not across his.

I took a step in. I walked to the closet. I grabbed some cloths. I walked to the bathroom, grabbed some toiletries. Then I walked to him.

He looked scared. Why, I'll never know. He probably thought I'd tell people. He wouldn't want to ruin his image.

But I wouldn't. I didn't. Instead, I smiled. A genuine smile.

I don't think I've smiled like this for years.

He looked shocked.

I placed a quick kiss on his forehead. I gave him a hug. And while close to his ear I whispered, "Thank you, Harry." I hoped it sounded sincere, for it was.

And then I left. My only regret; not looking back at his face to see his reaction.

I walked back to his place with a bounce in my step, a smile on my face. He was sitting in the lounge, staring at the fireplace and the fire within. He looked surprised to see me, but happy nonetheless.

And he was even more surprised when he saw my smile.

He even asked me what was wrong.

Had I really given him that impression? Yes. I had.

I just kissed him, my things dropping to the floor. When we finished he still looked concerned. And confused.

So I sat down, and he did to. And in the firelight I explained. I told him how I had found them.

He was angry at him. Angry he had betrayed me. But happy. For I had asked him if he still wanted to continue or trysts.

I wasn't sure he'd say yes. I had thought he had only wanted me to hurt him. But I had been wrong. He said yes.

We hugged, and right before it was going to turn into something more, I broke.

I snapped, I cracked, I fractured, I split. And all of my insides came spilling out in the form of tears.

I cried.

But most of all, I remember the headlines the next day.

"Harry Potter socked, Ginny moved on."

And underneath were two pictured. One of Draco and I in a coffee shop, sharing some carrot cake and laughing.

The other one of Harry with two black eyes and his hands clutched between his legs.

Oh, and just to let you know, Draco framed that picture and hung it on the wall in the foyer. The one of Harry.

I just laughed.

I know it's crappy. But still, please review, even if you hated it.