((A/N DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places relating to. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No copyright infringement is intended.))

Although Hermione had clearly stated in her letter that Viktor shouldn't even bother responding, it still hurt her a month later when she had heard absolutely NOTHING from him. She'd expected him to at least owl her in understanding, or perhaps protest. Could silence really kill as they said it could? In this case, it seemed it could.

When Hermione was hurting, the world could tell. Everything about her was different - she wasn't even as enthusiastic towards her studies. Sure, in class she couldn't resist putting up her hand for the answer, but when it came down to it, her responses were so mediocre. It was a huge change from her outstanding ones that normally left classmates in awe.

By the Friday before Christmas break, Hermione seemed to be getting a little better. How? how could she be getting better when it was obvious that less than a month before she was completely heart-broken and falling apart? It was simple when one thought about it, really it was! What better of a way to get over someone than to replace them with someone else, someone much better?

Hermione hadn't even meant for it to happen, she didn't know it could. But, when the vivid fantasies kept on revisiting her, the dreams, the thoughts…it was all enough to make it obvious to her that she was finally over Krum. Who was this person filling her fantasies, occupying her mind constantly?

A furrowed brow and pursed lips were held upon Hermione's face as she sat in an armchair in front of the Gryffindor fireplace. Her brown orbs were mindlessly focused on the hearth rug, it looked as though she was dreaming. A single beam of light cascaded into the room through the big open window and played a gentle stream of light across Hermione's face. There she was, fantasizing in the middle of the common room where anyone could see her. Luckily for Hermione, she didn't get that look on her face that looked like she was about to drool everywhere, she merely looked upset.

Sweaty bodies pushing frantically at each other, deep moans, whispered 'I love you''s, gentle touches, rough kisses; all filling Hermione's mind. One of the figures (obviously her own), had a head of wavy brown locks, the other of a vibrant red. Preferably known as 'The Weasley hair'.

'God I want-' Hermione's thoughts were cut short as the very person who had broken the barrier of Hermione's sorrows and replaced them with love, the very person whom she was thinking about, announced there appearance with a loud slam of books on a table.

"Hermione! I hate Filch! Can't I just hex him, this one time? Stupid Squib.." came the angry mutterings of the figure who had, only moments before, occupied Hermione's thoughts.

"No…Ginny...You can't. He's staff…You'll be expelled." Hermione whispered as she fixed her vision back on the hearth rub before her; her mind running wild.

'Don't look at her like that! She's Ron's sister, Forbidden to anyone. Especially off limits to you, his best friend. But, she looks so stunning, her freckled complexion, her red locks- STOP HERMIONE!" she thought, angrily telling herself off. What a mess she'd gotten herself into. Of all people! It had to be Ron's little sister, didn't it? Why Ginny…..?