Debauchery

A Tryst

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: Femme Slash. Mature themes. Violence. Language.

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JellifiedToast: Kool. Thanks.

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takenbydrama: Kool. I think I'll check it out after I post. Thanks. I like the pen name by the way.

Here we go…

:Hermione:

Pressing her heated forehead to the chilled glass of the window the brunette exhaled. The cigarette smoke mixed with alcohol brought her to a numbing sort of bliss. She looked back up at the moon. It was covered now. Dark clouds shrouded the glowing crescent from view. She sighed heavily.

The rustling of sheets echoed in the quiet room. More rustling. She looked to the place the sound came from. There was a light groan and she got up, striding quietly over to her bed's occupant. The person groaned again. She sat on the edge of the bed. The figure moved slightly and then stopped all together.

Hazel eyes landed on a tall figure. Her gaze moved up along the tall figures frame until she was met with a head of flaming red hair. She'd shared her bed with only two other people. Both had red hair. Both had charming blue eyes. Both had numerous freckles. And both held a piece of her heart. She loved them both.

Love. The brunette never thought it would be this confusing. She never thought it would leave her so… stuck. Where did friendship end and romance begin? When did 'I love you' become 'I'm in love with you'? When did it all start and how would it end? That was the real question. The frightening one.

She looked once more to the red head sprawled across one side of her bed. She stared and stared hard. Though her eyes could only make out one sleeping form, her minds eye saw two. Two people. Two hearts. Two minds. Completely different from the other. The girl frowned bitterly.

Ron was her first. First kiss. First love. First. He was safe. He'd always be there. She felt safe around him. Content in his strong freckled arms. She sighed happily when his warm breath tickled her skin. Found his embarrassed blush endearing. His lopsided grin made her smile. She knew he would keep her safe no matter what. She felt at home with him. He was her sanity. He held half of her heart in the palm of his had and she loved him with that half.

Ginny was exciting. Ginny was passionate. Ginny made her stomach skitter and her head spin. Made her ache, made her want, made her need. The younger girl ensued depths of passion in her that she knew Ron couldn't. She felt wanted with Ginny, like she had a reason. She felt completely and utterly… alive. When Ginny's lips were on hers there was no tomorrow, just the moment. It was just then and there. The younger girl held the other half of her heart captive. She held the other half of her mind.

How could she choose between the two?

She waved her wand. A quick swish and flick to get rid of the permeating smell of smoke. All traces of her habit were gone. If only love could be that easy. If it were, she thought sullenly, then it wouldn't be love. She sighed at the thought, lying stiffly next to the sleeping Weasely. The sheets rustled and freckled arms embraced her from behind. Warm breath hit her neck. She yawned. She would figure this out tomorrow. Tomorrow.

:Ginny:

I just stare at her. Wondering. Where did this go wrong? Where did this go right? How did this even happen?

My mind soon finds the questioning boring and I'm subject to my body's desires yet again. Now I stare at her. Just stare. Admiring her. Brown curls that had lost their massive bushiness long ago, wonderfully tanned skin and a slender form. She's beautiful. Perfection in human form.

I find my eyes lingering on her neck. Elegant. How I wish my lips were on her neck. Biting, licking, sucking and leaving marks against supple flesh. I stare at her lips. Lush pink fullness. As soft and enticing as their appearance. My gaze travels higher, only to meet hazel eyes. Simple at times. But oh the depth those eyes portray, the emotion, the desire. I could get lost in her hazel eyes for hours on end. Like I find myself doing right now.

'Look away… look away…'

It's all I can do to try. I know if this goes on it'll only bring pain. Pain that I'd like to avoid. Hurt I'd like to escape. But I cant. She has me wrapped around a slender finger. Has me needing her just to survive. Has me loving her. In love with her. And it's starting to eat away at me. She's an addiction that I can't fight. An addiction that'll wear down on me until the day I die.

She looks away. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her breathing a little heavier than before. I smirk at that. I seem to have a different effect on her. The brunette turns to my brother saying a minimal few words before getting up and walking out of the Great Hall. And of course, I follow. Unnoticed. I guess I'll just have a big breakfast.

The woman walks down the corridor hurriedly. I grin. It's always a game of cat and mouse with Hermione. But which part do I play in our intricate game? She turns a corner and I follow cautiously. A quick glance around assures me that no one is following.

I walk into an old broom closet. One of my favorite places. I scoff at the thought, remembering the broken shelf from yesterday. I should have cleaned that up. Closing the door silently behind me I sneak up behind the brunette. My arms snake around her waist. My lips move immediately to her neck. She stands in my arms despondently. That's not like her.

Looking up I find her gaze elsewhere. She's looking at the shelf. At the knife. At the blood. And she knows. I move to let go of her but she grabs a hold of my wrist and silently lifts up the sleeve, staring at the scars. Fingering the neat white lines across my pale flesh. The new that the old.

"I thought we'd talked about this." Her voice is soft as she turns to face me.

"I know," I cant look her in the eyes. I turn my gaze elsewhere, "I know."

She lets go of my wrist. Her hand is against my cheek now, turning my face to her. I wont look her in the eyes. "Then… why?"

"I just had a really bad day. That's all… a bad day." I gulp at the lump in my throat. That wasn't a lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

"Ginny…" She wipes something from beneath my eye. By the wet and warm feel of it, I guess it's a tear. "Look at me, please."

I take a deep breath. It comes out all shuddery. My eyes meet hers. She looks worried. Guilty. I can't hold her gaze. I do the only thing that can stop this conversation from continuing. I swoop down, pressing my lips to hers. Silencing all protest. She doesn't fight against me. She doesn't want to talk about it anymore than I do. The thought issues a small twinge of pain in my heart. I push it back.

Her lips are silk. Her is tongue bliss against mine. The taste of her mouth, sweet ambrosia. My hands move to her hair. Running through easy curls. I bring our bodies closer to one another and push her back against the wall. Never breaking our languid series of heated kisses. My hands move to the base of her neck, scrapping against sensitive skin. She shivers against me and I smirk into her lips.

The brunette's hands move to the small of my back, tugging at the hem of my shirt, pulling the confining garment over my head. Once removed, my lips travel to her neck. Her moan amazes me. Low and animalistic. So unlike her. I ravish the tender skin against my mouth. Fulfilling my earlier daydreams and nipping roughly at her neck. My hands move to her shirt, undoing button by button slowly. She growls, switching our positions. Ever the patient one she is.

She leans in, her lips capturing mine. Her kisses are frantic, harsh, and rough. She hates doing this slowly. She unbuttons her own shirt quickly, throwing it somewhere across the darkened room. Her hands move to my arms, pinning them against the wall and kissing me harder. Her mouth moves lower, leaving rough bites along my neck and chest. She licks an erect nipple through the fabric of my bra. I gasp.

The hazel-eyed woman moves quickly, lifting her knee up to meet my hot center. I moan and begin to do the same to her. She gasps, pulling away from my chest. Her grip around my arms slackens and I reclaim the dominant position. I grind my thigh harder into her and she half gasp, half moans. I pull my thigh back, teasing.

Biting the older woman's bottom lip hungrily, she tugged the brunette's body closer, if that was even possible. Running her hands up into Hermione's skirt, she scrambled for skin, needing desperately to touch and feel and taste the heat building up in every particle of her being. Drunk on the intensity, intoxicated by the moans, dizzy, her head swimming, her body wanting. The red head scraped her fingertips along a smooth thigh before palming the hot, soaked panties. Creating vigorous friction against the older woman's hot center.

Hermione was flushed, head thrown back in carnal ecstasy, breathing in jagged gasps. She opened her eyes, meeting Ginny's with a look of pure, untainted desire. Breathing in, she bit her swollen bottom lip enticingly. Seducing Ginny into leaning forward to capture those glossy ruby lips in a heated kiss.

Ginny pulled away, exhilarated. The edges of her lips curled enticingly. Hermione was such a little temptress. The red head raised an eyebrow, her hand skimming the waistband of Hermione's underwear. Hermione whimpered in plea. Ginny's smirk never wavered. She teased the brunette relentlessly, one hand temptingly close to her crotch the other dancing over the tender skin of her back and reaching the clasp of her bra.

"Ginny…" she moaned out huskily. Her eyes beseeching. Ginny took in the brunette's flushed features. The alluring look of clouded hazel eyes, pink tinged cheeks and slightly parted ruby lips taunted her. The image added to the wet need between her thighs. The red heads breathing became heavier. How just an image could make Ginny this hot, this wanting, this needy, baffled her.

The younger woman leaned down, her hot breathe against Hermione's ear. She licked the older woman's ear lobe, her hand unclasping Hermione's bra. She nibbled at the sensitive flesh, her hand pulling the bra off of the other woman and cupping a well rounded breast immediately afterwards. Ginny let Hermione's ear free. She moaned into the brunette's ear, her voice came out throaty and low. "You make me so hot."

Hermione's eyelid fluttered closed at the sultry voice in her ear, her ear stinging euphorically. The younger woman never stopped her teasing fingers that still hadn't stopped toying around. It was enough to drive her mad. It was enough to drive her over the edge. But, no. Ginny wouldn't let her. Ginny knew which buttons to push, where to push them and how far and long Hermione would go. And Ginny especially liked to tease.

"Ginny… please…" she breathed, wanting those slim fingers deep inside of her.

Ginny sucked lightly at Hermione's neck receiving a deep moan accompanied by a slight whimper. She licked her way up the brunette's neck, leaving a trail of wet heat. Hermione moaned again. Louder, deeper. And Ginny finally gave into her lover's plea.

Hermione gasped at the abrupt feel of slim fingers inside of her. Within minutes her body quaked. Her orgasm ran through her slowly. Taking her to heaven and back. She opened blurry hazel eyes only to meet a barrage of light…

The brunette uttered on name. "…Ron."

"Hermione." Ginny pulled back quickly. That wasn't her voice. The younger woman was sure her voice wasn't that deep. Wasn't that detached. Didn't have that certain boyish shock to it. But she knew whose did. She knew whose voice it was.

She swiveled around, remaining calm. Collected. Not as surprised and scared as she was. Not as… grateful. She shouldn't have liked that she was caught screwing her brother's girlfriend. Ginny shouldn't have liked that knowing, pained look in her brother's eyes. But… that didn't stop her from wanting to be caught. Wanting him to finally get a clue. Wanting Hermione to have to finally choose.

"Ron I-"

The younger Weasely was met with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Her brother's hand against her cheek. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep jagged breath, not turning her face from the position her face had been slapped into. The girl refused the tears that wanted to be shed. She opened her blue eyes, her gaze immediately landing on Hermione's face, staring into Hermione's eyes.

Ginny looked away, looked back to her brother. The red haired boy looked at his hand, dumbfounded. Like he didn't know what he'd just done. He regretted what he'd just done. Understanding captured his thoughts again and he turned to Hermione, his light blue eyes on the brink of tears.

"How… how could you?" Ron's voice was weak. Pure emotion. Pure anger, grief, confusion, hurt and jealousy. His sister? He thought bitterly. "My sister! My own fucking sister!"

The red head looked to his younger sibling. Betrayal marring his features. Tears falling from his eyes. "Ginny… she's my girlfriend. I love her. You… I showed you the ring… and you're screwing her!"

"Ron. I didn't mean-"

"You didn't what! You didn't mean to fuck her!" He began to pace, the palm of his hand rubbing frivolously against his forehead. "Damn it." He stopped, looking directly into Hermione's eyes. "Why? Just tell me that. Why?"

"I…" Hermione was frozen. Unsure if this was real or just some horrible nightmare. Hoping she was still in her bed, sleeping. Both Weasely's were looking at her. She shifted her gaze from one to the other before finally turning away from both, speechless.

Ron stared wordlessly at the woman he loved. He stared until he couldn't take the silence anymore. He turned towards the door, a pale hand landed on the rusty brass knob. "Just… don't talk to me for a while."

Ginny held her breath. Wishing he wouldn't say what he probably would. Wishing he would say it. Just so she wouldn't have to deal with anything. A smothering feeling of guilt churned in the pit of her stomach.

"Both of you." His voice was a chocked whisper but it echoed clearly in the empty room. He slammed the door shut. The room was dark again. Completely dark.

How was it that Hermione always had her in the dark? Always kissed her, touched her, fucked her. Only in the dark. She inwardly laughed. A bitter laugh. And Ron was always in the light. Hermione let her affection for Ron out in the open. Ginny suddenly felt dirty. Dirty and used. She looked around the dark room, finding her shirt quickly she put it on and grabbed the handle of the door. She felt like she should say something. That she shouldn't leave Hermione alone. But she didn't, couldn't trust herself. She was afraid she'd say something she'd regret. So, she just left.

Hermione blinked. They were both gone now. Her legs seemed to give out beneath her, the tears in her eyes becoming too much to control. Hermione fell to the floor; her back slummed against the wall and her head in her hands. She fell to the floor and began to cry.

Author's Note:

Was that an ending or not? I'm not sure. It would be pretty cruel to leave the ending all depressing wouldn't it? Hm… I dunno. TBC maybe. I think so. I can't stand seemingly unfinished, unhappy endings. Well… I'll go work on another fic now.