A/N: Thanks for coming back. Here's chapter 2. Enjoy.

Chapter 1 – It's Still Fake

I wake up and find it strange that I'm lying uncomfortably on the edge of my four-poster bed, my duvet and bedspread strewn on the floor, cotton blanket entangling one of my legs, and my pillows all gone. I shiver at the coldness and lift an arm behind me to search blindly for my beloved pillows, when I suddenly hit something soft. Soft like flesh. With that in mind I notice an arm is draped over my torso, and heat pressed against my back.

Merlin. What the Hell?

Did I—Oh God—Did I jump in bed with a stranger last night and now can't seem to remember? Very unlikely. Think… Think… It's not like I got wasted, right? I don't even like liquor…

"Quit tossing," the person behind me mumbles sleepily.

"Blimey, Ginny?" I shriek, looking behind me. "What are you doing here? Again." I roll my eyes and push her off me. She is wrapped warmly in most of my blanket, pillows—my pillows—are on the other side of her, untouched.

With a start I instinctively look down on me, wondering whether I was naked, and hence, would have explained this messy situation. But I notice that I'm still wearing my nightie and my blue underwear, and Ginny is in her boxer shorts and a Pygmy Puff t-shirt. Relief ripples through me.

Not that I would ever roll in the hay with my female best friend, I'm sure. Ginny has troubles sleeping at night and sometimes comes to me. But usually, she would ask me first for permission if she can sleep over, and not like this, start the hell out of me. Damn you, Ginny Weasley, I'm not even wearing my pyjama bottom.

I peek over at my clock which read 5:24AM, the beginning of my day, while everyone else is still chasing unicorns in their sleep—except perhaps for Ginny, who's battling with dragons.

Getting up, I head for the bathroom, take a quick shower, get dressed, empty my bladder, and brush my teeth. But not in this order, mind you. I wand-dry my untamed, frizzy hair and frown at the reflection that greets me in the mirror—this is actually part of my morning routine—then I go downstairs to the common room.

While doing some advance reading for Charms, and revising my essay for Transfiguration, I barely notice the time passing by, when Harry and a few other students enter the common room. Harry greets me with an unenthusiastic smile, and drops on the armchair near the fireplace. Maybe he's seen himself in the mirror, too.

"Morning," he says, rubbing at his eyes. Then he sees the pile of books in front of me on the table, notices my busy face as I write down neatly the last paragraph of my essay. "Oh crap," he groans.

"What's wrong?" I respond, looking up.

"That essay, is it due to today?"

"Yes, you can copy mine if you allow me to finish it," I say curtly.

He relaxed, literally melting in relief in his seat and plops down on the floor. "This is why I love you more than Ron, Hermione." He stands and sits back on the armchair, grinning.

Giving him a strange look, I say, "Metaphorically speaking, I hope; because I cannot envision you and Ron actually loving each other that way." I shiver just to mock him.

"Thanks for that image, 'Mione," he retorts, knowing that I can't stand my nickname. "Anyway, how's the weather on the other side of the fence? You've been dating like—correct me if I'm wrong—like 4 months now?"

What? Has my pretence relationship with the most sought-after girl in school really been so long now? Certainly, people were counting the days. I used to imagine them hunting me down with a pitchfork and feeding me to the Giant Squib, making it seem like an accident so that Astoria Greengrass could be a single again.

"Don't be silly," I snap, "it's only been three months and three weeks." I wince.

"Oh, my bad," he says, chuckling. He seems rather solemn when he adds, "I'm glad though that you Ginny and have made up. I mean it. She's been worse than a ghoul, not to mention her looks when she was—"

"What's that?"

Harry, blanching, stops mid-sentence at the other voice; when I look behind me, I see Ginny standing at the dormitories staircase.

"Good morning, Ginny," I greet her. "Had a nice sleep?"

"Nothing's good about this morning. How did I end up in your bed?" she asks me accusingly. Straightening her uniform skirt, she walks over to Harry and sits in his lap, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Up so early?" Then she pinches him. "Were you just bad-mouthing me?"

"'Course not," he replies, looking affronted.

"I believe you have been sleepwalking, Ginny," I tell her, gathering my belongings. "Just let me know next time when you want to sleep over, because, as you may have noticed, I was only wearing—" I drop my head when I see Harry watching me curiously, I blush. "Nevermind."

"Blimey, so what? It's more comfortable that way. Besides, I've seen you a hundred times naked before when you stayed at The Burrow," she teases. Harry's face turns red. And with her hair falling between her and her boyfriend like a curtain, obscuring her face, she winks at me. "You have such smooth thighs, Hermione. Your girlfriend is such a lucky girl."

"In your dreams, Ginny!" I say smugly, smirking. "Honestly, she's never touched my thighs, trust me, or I'd have cut off her hands a long time ago." I sneer, thinking back of the time when I smacked Astoria across the face when she had touched my breast while we were both intoxicated with, well, mild chocolate liquor. Don't judge me; I'm just not a drinker.

Ginny laughs softly, suddenly interested. "You mean, you're not sleeping with her?"

Harry coughs, pretending to be busy by staring at his fingernails.

"No," I reply. Then I realise that they aren't supposed to know why that is, that my relationship with Astoria is faker than Lavender's dyed hair, so I conceded quickly, "Well, we're taking things slowly. But I will—" I blush and drop my head.

I meet Ginny's eyes when I turn. Once again after so long, for a fraction of a second, I notice her smile crumbles. Ginny and I never dated as a couple, no mutual romantic feelings, but she's been the first one who has been closer to me that can be compared to an actual romantic relationship. And for this very reason, our last fight had lasted over almost three months. Because of jealousy.

I tell Harry that I'll leave my essay on the table for him to copy and head outside the common room.

The Great Hall is slowly filling up with students, taking their seats. Once I got seated, I fold my napkin in my lap and wait for the others to arrive. Ginny and Harry take the seats opposite mine; Ron sits with Neville and the rest while his girlfriend is seated with Parvati further away from him. I'm glad that I can enjoy my breakfast without having to retch at their sweet talks and smooching this time. She cast a smile my way, and I choose to wave back with a smile matching hers.

A pair of arms wrap gently around my shoulders, lips kissing my cheek. I didn't have to look up to see who it is.

"Good morning, McGorgeous," Astoria greets me, then, with a frown on her face—I call it her 'morning-frown', because she's hardly frowning, only in the morning—dashes away quickly when the first owls arrive to deliver the morning post. She hates owls.

While I sit there, munching on a piece of toast with nutella, I ponder about this fake relationship with the young blonde. Technically, her vengeance on her sister and ex-boyfriend is completed and has been a great success. We had the whole school on our side when it happened and everybody seemed accepting of us.

Astoria comes to me every morning, greets me in a lovely way, skips classes to see me in my free period, meets me after class for…sometimes her tutorial session, sometimes for our make-out session.

Why is it still fake?

What's the difference between this one and a real one?

Why does she still want to see me?

By the time my last class, DADA, ended, I shoulder my rucksack and think about a birthday present to send to my mum. I received an owl from my dad this morning, asking me for advice, any ideas I might have, for him to surprise mum with. I walk outside and, not surprisingly, my fake-girlfriend stands there, beaming. I know at once that she's up to no good.

She tosses her hair aside and pulls me into a firm kiss. Unlike the many times before, she doesn't peek over my shoulder to search for the outraged looks of her evil big sister and her arrogant boyfriend, Malfoy.

She doesn't do this nowadays anymore. Weird.

This is the first time I notice this.

We walk together outside in silence. There is a gargoyle fountain where the third year students assemble before visiting Hogsmeade. But since it isn't a Hogsmeade weekend, and the week has just started, no one is there.

Astoria sits down, dips her left hand in the water and draws with her fingers circles and hearts on the stone, lost in thoughts. The way she sits there, at total peace, smiling to herself, golden hair hanging over her shoulders, looking as if kissed by the afternoon sun, one might actually assume that she's an angel from heaven…

"We really should try it out sometimes," she suddenly says.

"Try out what?"

"Sex."

Well, she does look like an angel if she doesn't open her mouth.

I'm flabbergasted, like every time when we have this kind of conversation. "Are you serious? I told you we can't," I tell her, crossing my arms and feeling uncomfortable again.

"Why not?" she protests.

"Please, just drop it, alright? We should go back to the castle. It looks like it's going to rain and—" I stare up at the cloudless blue sky, birds flying over our heads, chirping…and mocking me. Damnit. "—I don't want to get wet," I add in a mumble and frown.

"What's that? You don't want to get wet?" she asks me impishly, giggling. "Oh I make sure you enjoy it."

"Oh grow up!" I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

Averting her piercing gaze, I look sideways and see some of the younger students playing hide-and-seek, running outside the castle and hiding behind rocks and bushes. I believe when I was their age, I never played hide-and-seek. I faced a troll in my first year, assisted Harry in fighting the Basilisk, time-travelled with Harry to save Buckbeak and Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Even before my years at Hogwarts I'd rather read books than hang out with my friends—whether imaginary or real. I should get a life, I decide, secretly envying Astoria for her carefree attitude.

In my momentary daze, I didn't realise that Astoria has stepped in front of me. She searches my eyes and then tilts my chin. She's only bloody fifteen years old but towers over me with at least two inches.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asks me, genuinely concerned.

I shrug. "Honestly? Yes."

"Look, it's normal to talk about stuff like this. We can take it slowly if that's what you wish," she offers me. Right, she's still talking about that…

"Take it slowly?" I exclaim, huffing. "Why? I mean—" And then I remember what I have been thinking about earlier, regarding our charade and why she is still around even though our deal was long over. "I don't even know why we're still 'dating'." I draw quotation marks in mid-air as I say this. She steps back, looking confused. "We took a pretty good revenge on your sister, didn't we? And remember Malfoy's mortified look? Wasn't that a big success? Mission accomplished. Right? So, why are we still together?"

This is what I hate about this. When she looks at me like that, she makes me feel like a soulless ogre.

"I—I thought," she stammers. "Weren't we getting along well?"

"Yeah, I think we were, but…"

"Listen, we can't just 'break up' right after our deal is over. I don't want to cause any suspicions, you know," she says in a lowered voice.

"I understand, but…"

"So we can still hang around together. Right?" She chirps in a sing-song voice, hooking her arms with mine and dragging me down to sit on the edge of the fountain. She laughs as if nothing awkward just happened.

Oh. Blimey.

While we sit there, engaged in some girly chit-chat about clothes and the latest trends of fashion, school gossips and wizarding music, I'm silently plotting a plan to break up this fake-relationship with her. Because a part of me thinks that this lovely girl deserves someone better.

A/N: So, what do you think? Will Hermione be able to break up with her fake-girlfriend? ^^

Please leave a response below if you liked it so far. I would really, really, really love it, and it will inspire me to write more. The next chapter will take a little longer...