Debauchery
JealouslyDisclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Warning: Femme slash.
Thanks:
Jezebel Malice: I really, really love your stuff. :) Thanks for the review. Pain is good.
Hybrid Mutant: Cool. I guess it's a little poetic. Yep. Thanks.
Angulus Letum: Yes. Parkinson. I couldn't think of anyone else and I didn't want to make up a character. I'm not too great at that. Heh.
Lady Felton1: I was thinking more of a sixteen but fourteen is pretty good. :) Thanks.
Zelz Saihitei: You just reminded me of food. Because I haven't eaten lunch yet and yes. I want lunch now. Haha. Thanks for the review.
Hoshi-chan1: That was a great shower. Hehe. I feel so refreshed. :)
Thanks to dlm2780, Emily and everyone else who read.
Author's Note: I'm bored. Yesterday my friend and me were so bored we started playing Put the Coins in My Pocket. And she couldn't put the dime in my pocket so she lost and I won. Which is cool because… I fucking won! Good times… Hehe. Yes. Summer. Yeah. My brain tickles. La la la. :)
000
"Ginny please. Just listen to me. Pansy is-"
"Sod off Ron." She cut him off mid speech. "I don't need you butting into my business right now! Merlin knows the whole god damn school already is!"
Ginny turned to leave but the older Weasely caught her by the elbow. "That's just it Gin. There are rumors. People have been saying things."
"Tell me something I don't know." Her tone surprised Ron. It was scowling, threatening, "Why don't you just stay out of it this time Ron."
He flinched at the statement. "What is that suppose to mean?"
She whirled around, her eyes surprisingly red from tears, her skin oddly pale and the look in her eyes strained. The perception of hurt and the depth of sorrow guilt and grief in blue eyes that slightly mirrored his own made him want to reach out to her. Reach out and hug her, make her feel better, take the dullness from her gaze and make that child like glint in his little sister's eyes come back. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. The first time in a very long while. And she looked terrible.
"It means, my 'oh so wonderful' brother, stay out of my life!" Ginny started to walk away again. The younger Weasely only made it a few steps before Ron was in front of her. Stopping her. Forcing the tears out from behind her tired eyelids.
"Ginny…" She was crying. She was crying and he had no idea what to do. Didn't know how, what to do, to make her stop. Make her calm down. Stop her from crying. Comfort her.
Ginny buried her face in his chest. She was losing control again. It seemed as if she could barely control her surroundings lately. She felt so… weak. She could smell the lingering traces of home on Ron's sweater. The scent of her mother's various home cooked meals, of the Weasely living room and especially her own bed. Where none of this was happening. Where she could be sleeping, dreaming. Drowning in the innocence of her dreams.
The blue eyed man embraced the girl who had somehow become a young woman right before his blinded eyes. He ran a hand limply through her hair, trying his best to console her. The younger Weasely sobbed softly against his chest, drenching the latest sweater his mother made for him. He whispered softly against her hair.
"What've I done?"
000
Slowly, smoked trickled out from between her lips. Hermione sat in the astronomy tower, thinking. The moon was full, cold and alluring. The brilliant silver light caused eerie shadows to play across her face. She just sat. Staring. Wondering. Thinking, then thinking about why she thought so much and stumbling upon the same answer.
Ginny. Pansy. Pansy and Ginny, Ginny and Pansy. Why couldn't she just rid herself of those haunting thoughts? Rid herself of the conflicting emotions. The bubbling jealousy and the searing burn of want and desire. Why did everything have to be so… so complicated. The brunette let out a slow frustrated sigh, the cigarette smoke escaped, swirling about and making her nostrils flare. She let the toxins in her system calm her buzzing nerves.
All of her frustrations boiled down to one thing. One question. What did she want? She continuously asked her self over and over. The same bloody question. She had no answer. No response. She ran her fingers lifelessly through her hair. She was getting a headache. She could feel the low pulsing throb in her temple.
Small scenes flipped through her head. Ginny's hands gripping Pansy's thighs. Lips pressed tightly together. Tongues battling. Pansy's hands roaming, all over Ginny's slim form. Touching. Wanting. Having. It made her stomach churn. Made the aching spot in between her thighs throb with desire.
Footsteps sounded from behind the tower entrance. Hermione quickly extinguished the burning tip of her cigarette and sunk further into the shadows. She watched as two figures stumbled into the dimly lit room. She could barely make out the silhouettes of two women. They were pressed together. Hard.
Hermione blinked. When she opened her eyes again the smaller of the two was pressed tightly up against the cold stonewall. Delicate hands held firmly above her head. Her breathing hitched. Hermione's eyes widened just a bit, taking in the sight before her. Watching, wanting. Quietly yearning.
The brunette was contemplating what to do next. Should she step from the shadows and confront the pair? Would she stay hidden? Watch this dark deed unfold? Let it enfold her. Capture her. Let the lust in her eyes shine, the need intensify and the want envelope her. Make her skin pleasantly uncomfortable; make her fingers itch to touch, to feel the burn of pulsing flesh beneath her palms. The thought exited the hazel-eyed woman.
Would every moan, every gasp, every whispered name serve to remind her? To make her want to regret, all the while knowing she couldn't. She wouldn't regret anything. Even if the small sounds of carnal pleasure suffocated her, drowned her in memories and dreams she couldn't rid herself of.
She found her eyes glued to the couple. To their rocking movements and jagged breathes. She bit her nail nervously, contemplating. One of the women moaned, Hermione's nails dug sharply into the palm of her hand. She bit her lip. That moan amazed her. She wanted more. She wanted Ginny.
Her feet took their own objective, taking a small cautious step towards the exit. She needed to get away from all of it. She needed more time. She didn't want… she didn't. She didn't know what she wanted.
Dull blue eyes stared into her core. Made her knees go weak and her body yearn. Hermione stared back. Perplexed, frozen. Wanting to scream, wanting to cry. Wishing she had the guts to walk away, to pretend those penetrating blue eyes weren't lost in her own.
000
Ginny moaned raspily. She couldn't stop. Couldn't bite back the pleasure overtaking her senses or the deep stab of guilt eating at her insides. She felt as if she wasn't a part of the whole ordeal. As if she was just watching, just gazing through a telescope. She could feel Pansy's teeth nipping roughly at her neck; feel the burn of fingers tempting her heated flesh. But she felt as if she weren't there, as if it were all a dream. A surreal image her guilty mind provided.
The older girl bit roughly at her collarbone, eliciting a sharp gasp. Ginny's eyes remained open, staring dully into the darkness. She tried to fight the urge to slip away just once more. The evening hadn't gone according to plan, as she would've liked. The red head's intentions were simple, honest. She wanted it over with. She wanted to quell the shame that berated her tired mind. She wanted to break free. She wanted it to be over. But it was never over. The greed-eyed Slytherin just began to do those things. Began to take control. And she couldn't resist the temptation, the aching want, when it presented itself. She couldn't break free.
"Stop…" The hoarse whisper was a plea. Ginny couldn't take it anymore. She wanted it to end.
Lips crashed against her own, stifling her pleas. She felt dirty. And disgusted. She wanted to cry. She was crying. Through blurry eyes she could make out Hermione's haunting form. She didn't know if it was real. If it was just an image her guilty mind created or some evil hallucination the alcohol in her system provoked. She just wanted it to end.
Hips thrusted roughly into her center. The tears fell heavily. She wished the image away. Ginny couldn't stand those haunting, judging hazel eyes. She willed them to look away, turn away. Discard her as they had many times before. Ginny found her palms against Pansy's shoulders, trying to push the other woman away.
"Stop." The red head's struggle was weak. The lack of sleep beginning to weigh her down. Fatigue catching up to her.
000
Hermione heard the barely breathed whisper. The small plea for the older girl to stop. The brunette wanted to scream. Wanted to walk over to that girl she couldn't resist, wanted those blue eyes back on her. But her dead limps provided no movement. Thoughts ran through her, memories challenged her. Heartache controlled her. Jealousy stirred within her, threatening to erupt.
The older Griffyndor couldn't take it. She couldn't hold it in. She had to do something. Something. She couldn't stand there, helpless when she clearly wasn't. She had to run away and never look back, had to confront them, had to walk over to the Slytherin and do something. Let all the pent up rage out, hurt her.
Her heart beat faster with every small whimpering protest. With every recognition of those protest turning into gasps of encouragement. Her nails dug crescent shaped marks into her palms, her nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. She was jealous. Hermione's next movements were a blur. All she could make out was the feel of tensed muscles as she ripped the Slytherin from Ginny. The anger bubbling over as she shoved Pansy down. The callousness of her voice as she yelled and threatened. The trembling of her hand as she pointed her wand at the green-eyed witch and the drained feeling in her bones as Pansy simply scowled and walked off.
They just seemed to stare at one another. Their eyes focusing on nothing else. The flow of tears seemed to slow as Ginny brushed them away with her sleeve. This wasn't what she'd wanted to happen. It was far from what she'd wanted to happen. She fell to her knees. The embarrassment, the shame taking over and making her slump guiltily against the wall. She buried her face in her hands and waited. Hermione would leave her. She'd leave, disgusted and angered and she wouldn't want Ginny. She never wanted Ginny.
The broken sight before Hermione made her heart lurch. Ginny looked so small, so tiny. So confused and angry. Self-loath was creeping off of her lithe form in threatening vibes. Hermione didn't think she could stand it. The brunette took slow, silent steps toward Ginny. Her actions fuzzy and deliberate. She held the girl.
Ginny tried to push Hermione away, tried to stop crying. Stop wanting. Stop the desire that built up in her heaving chest. Her hands pushed weakly at Hermione's shoulders, she buried her face in the older woman's neck, and her sobs grew. She gave up; letting her limp form fall into that safe, warm feeling of Hermione's arms. Ginny's sobs died, her eyelids drooped and she fell asleep.
000
The dim glow of morning seeped through the curtains and Ginny groaned. Her head pounded and everything seemed to ache. She buried herself tighter into the comforter and let the warmth of another body against her lull her back into the depths of sleep.
Ginny's eyes flew open. Wide and surprised. Was last night really a dream? The arm around her waist pulled her closer and the feel of soft, trailing lips against her neck made the simmering in her stomach begin to bubble. She leaned into the warmth, groaning. The buzzing tingles made her skin prickle.
A tongue lashed out and she felt the dull throbbing pleasure as teeth nibbled at her sensitive skin. Ginny groaned again. She wondered if it was even real, but the thought was soon brushed aside as a hand traced scorching patterns against her side. Moving slowly towards her bare stomach and then higher until Ginny's slight moans turned into panting gasps.
Teeth nibbled at her earlobe and Ginny nearly drowned in the sensations. She grabbed the hand against her breast and moved it lower, past her taunt stomach, to the aching desire between her thighs. She wanted to stop, but the utterly devouring want wouldn't let her clear the mist of her mind and think. She was stuck in the never-ending burn of passion and she found, she didn't really want to be set free.
She could feel the skin against her own getting slick, the breath against her neck hot and shuddering. The bare breast against her back driving her insane. She moaned loudly, taking in that familiar alluring scent. The movement of the hand stopped and in the next moment the warmth was gone and the urge in the pit of Ginny's stomach was stronger than ever.
The red head turned her cloudy eyes towards the object of her desire. She licked her dry lips. Her slick skin glowing pale in the scant lighting. Her red hair spread across the deep red sheets. Ginny sat up slowly, crawling towards Hermione, the abandoned look of want beginning to take over the other woman.
Hermione woke, her eyes wide, her breathing hitched. She looked down at Ginny's peaceful form. Her eyes traced the lilting curve of the younger woman's neck, the sultry pout of her red lips and she wished those enticing blue eyes to be open. To look at her the way they had in her dream, the way they had before everything went wrong.
The brunette ran a finger across those tempting lips. Wondering whether or not it was okay to kiss the girl. Her fingers trailed down along Ginny's neck. Hermione just watched the red heads peaceful expression. Was it okay to be touching her? To be watching her as she slept. Her hand crept further down, running over the swell of Ginny's breast and then across her taunt stomach.
Hermione leaned in closer, her position on top of Ginny shifting. Causing the red head to stir slightly. She pressed her lips to Ginny's, her hand running up along the younger woman's thigh. Ginny groaned, half conscious and wanting. She kissed Hermione back and their tongues clashed.
The blue-eyed girl's hands slipped under the confines of Hermione's shirt, running up along the brunette's back. Hermione's fingers moved slowly, deliberately against Ginny's clit. The younger woman moaned and the brunette's teeth nibbled softly at the nape of Ginny's neck. Hermione slipped a finger slowly into Ginny. Nails ran sharply down the older woman's back.
Blue eyes shot open, hands halting all movement. Hermione rolled her thumb gently over Ginny's clit. Despite her slight confusion Ginny's eyelids felt heavy again and she moaned louder, beginning to move against Hermione. All she knew was that Hermione was there, that she had her hand between Ginny's thighs and her soft lips against the red head's aching body. And then she began to question things. Where were they? Why was Hermione there? Why couldn't she just lose herself to the want and let Hermione touch her?
"Hermione…" She didn't mean for it to come out that way. For her voice of protest to come out as a breathy moan. But what Hermione was doing. The sensations that were engulfing her… she couldn't seem to pull away. She threw her head back in carnal urge as Hermione's tongue lashed out against her nipple.
She was panting hard. Moaning and gasping. She moaned again. Her tone wanting, words deceiving. "S-stop. Hermione…oh..."
Hermione willed herself to stop. To act on Ginny's request. But the slick, warm wetness against her fingers told her otherwise. She was trying to pull away from the suffocating desire within her. She looked down at Ginny, swirling chocolate pools darker than the night outside. Ginny moaned and the pressure against Hermione's fingers increased. Ginny's eyes were pleading with her, begging her to continue, begging Hermione to stop.
The brunette pulled away. Drawing back from Ginny's enticing form. Getting up and walking numbly towards the window. She took a deep breath, it came out shuddery. She looked down at her hand, the glistening warmth staring back at her. She wiped her hand off on the fabric of her unbuttoned shirt.
Ginny sat up, her stomach churning and the throbbing between her thighs intensifying. Why did she stop Hermione? She sifted through her cloudy mind for an answer. The red head looked over at Hermione. She took in the hurt and concerned expression across Hermione's face. Ginny's heart leaped and she voiced the answer to her unspoken question in a hoarse whisper.
"It's not this simple…"
Hermione turned to look at the younger woman. The distracting sight of Ginny's near nakedness made it hard for Hermione to listen completely. The brunette licked her swollen lips. She couldn't say anything, she didn't.
"I-I can't do this Hermione." She stared into endless pools of desire and almost caved in. Almost let herself tell Hermione to… "I can't keep waiting. Hoping you'll choose me. That you'll love me. That you don't want my brother. Make up your mind Hermione."
000
Author's Note:
Heh. It's been a while. But yay! I updated. I've just been so busy lately. Damn school. We have a new principal. From what I hear, she's a bitch. But I dunno. I think the school is more organized now. Some people just don't like change I guess. So yeah, I may end this in the next chapter. An Oooooooo! I have a surprise for anyone who read Just A Game! I'm making a fucking sequel! Yay! One condition though, its not coming out until this fic and another of my many unfinished ones are completed.