This chapter is fairly short. Its like "Hermione's Musings" chapter.
And again, I'm not too good with grammar and all things related so help me out, so I can make this story a little bit clearer. :)
And I'm disappointed, I want some reviews, good or bad.
Does it really take that long to write one?

Hermione quietly closed the door of the abandoned girl's lavatory and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. No one could know she was crying, for they would ask why, and she couldn't tell them, and then they would suspect something was up, and that wouldn't be good at all. For the time being she would have to pretend everything was okay. She would have to go on with life like everything was normal and when the time came…….well she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Hermione looked up at the clock, she had cried entirely through Sixth hour, so she was in Seventh hour now, Potions.

Merlin.

She cursed in her mind. She hated being late for Snape's class. He always badgered her and took away points. She was considering skipping Potions entirely but, that wasn't typical Hermione behavior.

But lately, what was? She had been disappearing, lying, cheating, failing, not studying, and an assortment of other things. Ever since that kiss, her life had been turned upside down.

"What the hell." She said plopping down on the floor and leaning her back against the cool stone wall. "What's one more skipped hour? Its better than a lot of the things I've been doing lately." She muttered.

Ron flashed through her mind. Poor, sweet, innocent Ron, her best friend of six years, and boyfriend of three months, she was ashamed of all the things she had been doing behind his back. She wanted to cry, she really wanted to cry for him, but somehow she couldn't get the tears out. Maybe it was because she wasn't really sorry for having an affair behind his back? Maybe it was because she didn't really love him?

No. I love Ron, more than anything.

She tried to convince herself. But then why did she sneak out of the portrait hole every Thursday evening under the pretense that she was going to the library when in fact it was to meet up with Malfoy?

It still stumped her. She loved Ron because he loved her. She loved Ron because this was her first boyfriend. Was it possible that she was just in love with being in love?

No. I'm not in love with being in love.

Maybe he wasn't "satisfying" her. After all, they hadn't done anything more than snog, but he had always wanted to go farther. But she always stopped him. She always said "I'm not ready for that" and took his itching hands in hers and kissed them and then said "Just wait". But why was she all right with going that far with Malfoy? Was it something about him? Was she really in love with him? Or was it something sexually appealing about him that Ron didn't have, like pheromones?

Hermione shook her head.

Men don't give off pheromones. At least she didn't think they did.

She pondered some more and still couldn't answer that one question that was always on her mind. Why was she comfortable with letting a complete stranger, an enemy, who treated her like shit and called her some of the dirtiest names known to wizards, touch her, screw her, and fertilize her, when she already had someone as sweet as Ron whom she had known for years, whom she had trusted and grew close to?



Hermione gripped her head and yanked her pin straight hair. This was all so confusing. It was like drowning in a sea of thought. She was losing sight of what was important, what she wanted, who she wanted. She was losing herself in the process.

The old Hermione was gone. Her old trademark bushy hair was now always pin straight, she had recently started using makeup, and her physical appearance wasn't the only thing that changed. Like she had gone over in her mind many times before, her inside had changed too. What was important to the old Hermione wasn't important to the new Hermione, what the old Hermione would never do was normal behavior for the new Hermione, while one man was enough for the old Hermione, the new Hermione didn't feel satisfied enough with one and went every Thursday evening to screw a second one, and the old Hermione was never walked on, while the new Hermione was, and still is, letting herself be walked on all over, taken advantage of, and impregnated by someone she had thought she absolutely abhorred!

"Merlin," she said, now sobbing again, "This is a fine mess I've gotten myself into."

Again, fairly short.
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