Debauchery

Cold

Disclaimer: Uh… I'm sure you all know who owns Harry Potter. And it's not me. All rights reserved for J.K. Rowling.

Warning: Femme Slash. Um… that's it really.

Thanks:

Lady Felton1: Ooo... I just saw Tom Felton on this really old British mystery show. He was so cute! Hehe. Ouch is righto. Thanks. :)

Kazutaka Muraki: Wow. Thank you very much. I have talent. In your face mom! You wanna know my secret:whispers: ...I'm not telling. Ha! Nope, I'm just a deprived person. That's it.

And thanks to everyone else who read.

Alright… I'm going to try something new here. I think its second person POV. I'm not sure. Here goes…

:Hermione:

You migrate towards Harry and Ron the next morning. Ron makes a quick excuse to leave without throwing an acknowledgement at you. Harry just looks at you blankly, trying to smile but failing. You know he knows. What did you expect? You surely didn't think Ron wouldn't tell Harry. He looks at his shoes awkwardly and you make an excuse to leave too. The tension and loss of topic gets to you.

It's when you spot a familiar mane of golden red hair that you remember Ginny. Ginny was there too. Ginny took a slap to the face. Would Ginny even consider talking to you after what happened? The red head hadn't said anything. Hadn't made a painfully clear statement telling you to stay away. But she hadn't really said much of anything.

You watch her. Frozen. You can't take that chance. The chance that there will be a scene. You don't want anyone to know your shame. That you'd bedded two Weasely's. You don't want to cause any more pain so you keep to yourself. You're alone and you wonder how this happened. How you could be so stupid. How you could fall in love with both of them. And especially… who could… would you choose.

Choosing one over the other wouldn't be simple. It wouldn't be easy. Things weren't easy. You barely touch the plate in front of you. If you chose Ron, Ginny will be hurt. If you chose Ginny, Ron will be hurt. Each weighed option ends in misery. As the old saying goes… you're damned if you do, you're damned if you don't. You hate that saying now. You wish it weren't so fucking true. You wish you could go back. You wish none of this had ever happened.

You take the last wish back. You liked that it happened. You liked it and you feel guilty. It was a guilty pleasure. You couldn't help yourself. They were both just… there. They were both so willing both so wanting, so in love with you. And you. You selfish bitch. You wanted both. You were greedy and now look what happened.

Ron was always so nice, so handsome, so perfect and protective. You feel so safe with him. You just feel so safe. It's chaste with Ron. When you're together. When he's touching you, when he's holding you and when you make love. Its sweet, caring. Ron is the reasonable choice and you are reasonable. You've always been reasonable. Then the choice is made… you'll choose Ron.

But… Ginny. You can't get her out of your mind. You can't make her eyes just vanish from your dreams, from your memories, from your every waking moment. Ginny was… Ginny. Always provocative, deep, intelligent and beautiful. Inside and out. When you were with Ginny it was heat and passion. Nothing else seemed to exist. Ginny is the dangerous choice. The unreasonable one.

So why does it feel as if you should choose her? Your brain tells you Ron. Your unreliable heart can't make a decision. And something else just tells you Ginny. Why? You know who you'll choose. You know who because it's easier. And every particle in your being says who to choose, says everything will be fine if you make that choice. And you will. You'll choose.

…Soon.

:Ginny:

I can see her. Sitting there. I can see her out of the corner of my eye. Watching me yet not focusing on me. She's thinking. And I know exactly what about. I want to go over there and tell her to pick me. I want to tell her I'm the one she should be with. But I know she has to make the decision on her own. When she chooses it has to be her choice. There can't be a poke or prod from me or my brother. We can't choose for her.

I know all this. But still I'm looking at her. Looking into her eyes. Searching. Telling. Willing. She doesn't look away. She doesn't meet my gaze directly either. How did this happen? How did we get caught? How could I betray my brother? I feel like shit. She looks away. Ashamed. I wish I were ashamed. But I'm not. Guilty, yes. Ashamed, never.

The brunette stands, gathering her things and walking out of the great hall. I follow. I always follow. Trying to catch up, I notice she's heading towards Griffyndor tower. I reach out and grab her arm. She freezes and I wonder what am I doing exactly. Why did I follow her? What will I say?

She turns around slowly. Hazel eyes meet my own for a second before she looks away. Her voice is nervous, unsure. "Morning Ginny."

I let go of her arm, my hand moving to her chin. Turning her face towards mine I attempt to get her to look me in the eyes. My hand cups her cheek, its soft and warm. I'm being drawn in. I want to kiss her so much its painful. I just want her lips on mine. I want to feel and touch and forget about everything else. Even just for a minute or two. Just forget.

She wants it too. I can see it in her eyes. She wants me just as badly as I want her. But she's reluctant. She won't take the initiative. My thumb rolls over the soft skin of her cheek gently. I move my hand to the back of her neck slowly. She doesn't resist. I inch closer. I'm moving so slowly or at least it feels that way. It feels as if I'd shatter the moment with one swift movement. Like all hope would be lost. I'm so close I can feel the warmth of her breath against mine. Her eyes are closed now, waiting.

"Hermione. There you are. I've been looking for you." My brother interrupts. His voice is cheerful. I thought he wanted us to stay away from him.

I don't turn to acknowledge him. I don't want to and I don't know if I can even look him in the eyes. He saw what I was about to do. He saw another hint of my betrayl. He saw me almost kiss her. I know he did. I don't want to see the hurt in his eyes. And I don't want him to see the triumph covered guilt in mine. So I don't turn around. I don't acknowledge him.

"Ron!" Hermione seems to squeak, jumping a little. I can feel the absence of soft flesh against the palm of my hand. Delicate brown curls slip through my fingers. The moment is ruined.

"I need to talk to you," I can feel his eyes cutting into the back of my head. "In private."

If that hatred in his voice is any indication. He's mad at me. Utterly pissed. I know it. More angry than ever before. How can I tell? He's my brother I think I'd know. If he were yelling and thrashing about, throwing some sort of fit I'd know things would be okay later. That he'd forgive me. But he's not throwing a fit; he's not loud and obnoxious. He's bitter and cold. Like tea when you leave it out for too long. This is one of those times he won't forgive me. At least, not for a very long time. And that shameful guilt in the pit of my stomach returns.

I feel dirty again. I feel used again. I feel like a fucking whore. The burning in my throat returns. I can't deal with this. I can't handle this. I need to go. I need to feel it. To feel the metal against my wrist. Just to let all the guilt, shame and dirtiness bleed out. Watch it seep out of my skin and onto the floor. Watch it dry up and stain. I try to swallow the lump in my throat but find not an ounce of moister in my mouth. It all seems to be pushing at the back of my eyeballs. Wanting to be released as tears. I won't let it.

"I was just leaving." I manage to hiss out as I brush past my brother's shoulder.

My strides are purposeful and quick. I get to my dorm quickly and shut the drapes around me. I just take a second to look at the knife. The cold sharp metal in the palm of my hand. It shows my reflection. It shows this girl staring back at me in awe, tears running down her pale cheeks. Is that me? There's no blood on this knife. Its all been washed clean. All the grime, washed away.

When the knife penetrates my skin, I whimper. It hurts. But I want it to hurt. I want to cut this guilt out. I want to make myself clean. I watch the blood ooze from my self inflicted wound and I smile. I smile and then I cry. There's a lot of blood. More than I've ever lost before.

:Ron:

He saw them looking at each other. Saw Hermione walk out and he saw his sister follow. Just like last night. Were they still screwing behind his back? How many times had he seen them leave closely after one another and thought nothing of it? How many times had he over heard Ginny being referred to as a dyke and clobbered countless others? How could he be so fucking blind?

It was right there in front of him the whole time. All the clues. He just never put the pieces to the puzzle together. He thought things like this only happened in bad muggle movies. He thought it wasn't real. He denied it and now it was real. His baby sister and his girlfriend. His flesh and blood with his lust and love. How could he choose between his sister and the woman he was completely in love with? Hermione wasn't the only one who had to make a choice. He had a choice to make and so did Ginny. And bloody hell it wouldn't be easy.

Ron stood from his seat and followed the two women. He could tell by the way they followed one another. By the way they anticipated each other's movements. They'd done this countless times before. Something akin to hurt rose in the pit of his stomach but it was quickly smothered by bubbling jealousy.

'How could she?'

But which 'she' did he mean? Who was he really so bloody pissed at? Hermione or Ginny? It was confusing, being mad at someone and you didn't know who. They stopped. He stopped and hid behind a statue. He watched them closely. Hermione looked away from the younger girl. Ginny's hand moved to her chin. Ron's eyes widened, was she going to snog her? In plain view? Ginny's hand moved to Hermione's cheek. The act was so gentle so caring. He couldn't take it. He walked quickly towards them.

He stopped dead in his tracks. She was going to snog her. Hermione's eyes were closed. Hermione knew what Ginny was about to do. Ginny was moving steadily closer. Now words were exchanged and yet, it seemed as if there were. As if Ginny was trying to say something. Trying to tell Hermione without the use of words.

Ron didn't want to see what would happen next. "Hermione. There you are. I've been looking for you."

He saw his sister's frozen, rigid stance. And he was mad again. Angry at Ginny because Ginny had to know better. Angry with Hermione because he thought she'd loved him, she'd known better. Ginny was the one that seduced Hermione. Or had Hermione seduced Ginny? He had no idea and it was starting to get to him. Ginny was the one that wanted Hermione. Hermione wanted Ginny. They wanted each other and he wanted her. He wanted to keep her away from his sister. He wanted to keep his sister away from her. He didn't know what he wanted.

"Ron!"

What to say to Hermione once alone? He wondered. "I need to talk to you," his tone grew serious, "In private."

Yes, in private. He didn't want Ginny to hear what he would say. He was going to keep Hermione away from her. Keep her away from Hermione. Then the problem would be solved, he told himself reassuringly. Then everything would just settle after a while. Everything would be okay. Yes, that was it. He ignored his younger sibling as she brushed pass him coldly. He would talk to her later. He would tell her what he was about to tell Hermione later.

Once he was sure the younger Weasely was out of hearing range he spoke sternly, "I want you to stay away from Ginny."

"What?" Hermione asked taken aback. That wasn't what she thought he would say. "Ron listen-"

"No, 'Mione. You listen. I want you to stay away from my sister. End of story. No buts. Just leave Ginny alone."

"Ron-" The girl pleaded but was yet again interrupted.

Ron took a deep calming, frustrated breath. "Hermione, make this easy for us all. Just… stay away."

Author's Note:

Sorry it's not very long. I have to go to sleep early so that I wake up early to get my things packed for this parade I have to go to. Hehe. It's at Disneyland. I get to hold the banner. Yeppo. I'm special. Heh. Anyways… I thought I should continue. Though, the last chapter was a nice depressing ending, no? Hehe. I'll spit out a new chapter fast as I can. C Ya Soon:)