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Questioning Madam Pomfrey, I found out my fever was caused by a cold and stress. She didn't know the half of it. The cold must have been from playing Quiddich in the rain a few nights ago and getting totally soaked. The stress, well. That's self explanatory.

My mind and body were still numb. My nose was running a little, so the silence of the dormitory was broken by my occasional weak sniffs. I was skipping classes again today, I promised myself It was the last time but really, at this point I couldn't promise myself anything.

I planned to talk to Harry today at supper, tell him that despite my sudden cold I would go with him to Hogsmeade and we could have great awesome fun. Without Hermione. 'Cause she could suck it.

My excuse is that I'm hurting, so it's okay to be immature.

In all honesty, I didn't feel that hurt. I didn't feel Hermione. Aftershock, maybe. All I felt was how soft her lips were, how they had a delicious spice to them that tingled pleasantly. She was wild. I guess that's why people tell you to beware of unpredictable things, you'll probably get stung.

-----------------------------------------------------x

Getting up from my bed, I changed into jeans and a big cushy jumper that my Mom had knit me for Christmas. It was deep sage green with a big red capitol 'G' on the chest. Ugly, yes. But damn was it warm. Got to love Mom.

Curling up on the couch in front of the fire in the Common room, my thoughts curled around the back music of the Fat Lady's Opera singing. I didn't have the energy to cringe, I suddenly felt unbelievably tired. Emotionally drained.

I wish I could forget her.. Just.. Wake up and not care anymore. Not feel anything for her. But forgetting those hazel eyes and that confident smile was turning out to be a truly challenging thing.

You'd think this would be the last straw, but I felt more attached to her. Like a woman in an abusive relationship, no matter how many times I'm beaten, I just crawl back to her, wanting to be loved, wanting to please her, swearing this time it will be different.

I want to please her. But apparently, I can't, so I must pretend nothing happened. I'll start seeing Harry, make him happy. I know he wants me. It's the only thing in my life of which I'm absolutely sure.

-----------------------------------------------------x

It was raining the morning of Hogsmeade, and I stuck to Harry's side for warmth. He had his arm around me bravely and we smiled, laughed and talked. He kept blushing whenever my hair would touch his hand, or I'd rub my hip against his while we were walking.

I had ignored Hermione all week, everyone asked questions. My story was that I was sick the day of the Boggart and after, me and Hermione, as best friends had a conflict of interest. They seemed to trust that, and wished me , however tried to talk to me at every opportunity. I just wouldn't have it. I have given her the time of day all my life, and the moment I really needed her she rejected me with the utmost cruelty. I would have understood completely had she pushed me away. But she kissed back. She kissed back. And that was something I could not forgive with a sorry and a little talk.

I know I may be acting immature, but honestly, desperately, I don't know what else to do. I don't know where to go from here. What actions to take.

Everything before was on autopilot; Hermione, nightmares, Hermione, a wet dream, Hermione.

Now, it was just, Rejection, confusion, hopelessness.

Harry was speaking.

"Ginny? Lets go to 'Three Broomsticks and get a butterbeer." He smiled shyly, he was happy. I could tell. My heart sank but I smile, sliding my small hand into his larger calloused one. He smiles and blushes again, his unruly black hair dancing around his head. I felt nothing.

As we sat in the low light of the pub, I felt a shiver skitter across my skin as Harry's body left mine to sit across from me. Looking around, I wondered where Ron was, or where Harry had told Ron to be so he wouldn't bother us. Because Ron meant Hermione, and that was the last thing I wanted. But my questions were answered as I saw Ron stumble passed the pub's window, trying to suck off Lavender's face.

Huh. I felt a sort of ache for Hermione, she would probably be insanely jealous. But another part of me laughed, and felt pleasure at her possible pain. It was that part that was making me feel like a terrible, terrible person.

Butterbeer with Harry was an unsurprisingly, less-than-satisfactory activity. Even when he was talking about Quiddich, and how well I could handle a broom. He didn't have the melodic rise and fall of his voice that appealed to me. To what I was looking for, but I talked with him, and laughed, and smiled, and flirted, and played my part as a young hormonal girl who's pretended to like him all my life very well. He blushed and smiled and swelled with flattery and self confidence. I'm a terrible, terrible person.

I found my mind drifting a lot, back to the common room. Back to last night. Her lips. Her thigh rubbing against my.. Oh. I crossed my legs and squeezed as an ache spread between my legs. Merlin, what that lady could do to me. That spiteful, cruel lady. Still, I found it exceedingly difficult to hate her. I tried and tried. But my heart was true to her character, a stubborn short-tempered bitch. I felt the heat rise to my face as more thoughts of what would have happened after flooded into my mind. Oh..

"Um.. Harry? I'll be right back.. I need to go.. To the bathroom. Really bad." I stood quickly without a response from him, he looked taken aback.

"Er.. Yeah. Okay." Nodding he watched me nearly run to the bathroom. I lock myself in a stall and lean against the wall of it, pulling up my skirt and pulling down my dampening panties around my thighs. Merlin..

With a deep breath my hand wanders between my thighs and touches the fine moist Ginger hair there. Tilting my head back and closing my eyes, I imaged Hermione as I stroked myself in a small circular motion, my knees bending and legs parting more.

"Ah.. " Biting my lip, I stifle something louder. I didn't want anyone to hear me. My body began heating up, and sweat peaked on my forehead and in my cleavage. I could feel the ache building in my belly and I moved harder against myself, hips rocking. Hermione. Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.. A moan. A whine. I can feel it.. Almost there..

Dripping around my fingers I rubbed my clit senselessly, needing it. Needing a jerk, a felt the pleasure explode in my lower half, biting my lip till it swelled, I tried to stroke out my orgasm but it was difficult with all the feeling. My head went fuzzy and my hearing faded. Panting I pulled up my underwear and sat on the toilet seat, unsteady, knees weak.

Hermione.. Hermione..

-----------------------------------------------------x

Panting, she sat on her bed and waited for the tingling in her toes to stop, unsteady, knees weak.

Ginny.. Ginny..

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