Deceptions

A/N: First H/Hr chapter fic!!! (nervous eyes flit about room). I’ve had this planned out for a little while, but I wanted to get some one-shots out of the way first. I’ve never done one quite like this (it’s a little more angsty, humor and snarkiness is more my forte) but there’s plenty of humor to break up the drama. I’ve done L/J angst, but the marauders are always easy to use to break up the drama. I don’t know how this will pan out, but I hope you enjoy it : ) Chapter fics tend to get more attention than one shots, so I’m expecting lots of reviews!!! Lol

**A little background info- this takes place end of 6^th year: the dreaded Harry and Ginny realization that hit me like a punch to the stomach. Yes, I still had hope for H/Hr up till “Sectumsempra”, isn’t that sad? So naïve, so naïve… Anyway- that’s about all you need to know (so as not to give too much away) so happy reading! Love LOve LOVE feedback!!!!!!!**

DECEPTIONS

She sat alone in the empty corridor, head leaned against the stony wall with arms around her knees. Wavy brown hair cascaded over her shoulder, curls of chestnut flowing down her back. Jewels of sorrow trickled down her cheek, silently streaming from unblinking eyes. She sighed, licking her lips before rubbing the teardrops away with the back of her hand.

A figure appeared above her, lone and silent, looming at the top of the stair. He watched her for a moment, fighting a battle within, allowing her to hide her pain before making his presence known. She paid him no attention, wanting to be alone, but deeply exhaled as if inviting him to join her.

The figure plopped down beside her, poking his legs out in front of him, and fiddled absent-mindedly with his robes. She continued to ignore him, not daring to look his direction, and softly whimpered into her shoulder, just before straightening up and removing any trace of emotion from her features.

“I hate it.”

“You know, I don’t like it either.”

“Well, you didn’t really do anything about it! You just stared at them like some sort of drooling zombie and nodded your head- in approval.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to- I was in shock.”

“Typically those undergoing stressful situations tend to overreact, or at least get over their initial bewilderment within a time span of less than an hour.”

“He’s my best mate! He never even told me he fancied her! You’d think I would know!”

“Yes, you should have known! But because you’re a complete idiot the whole room was floored. If either one of us should have had an idea it was you.”

“Hardly! Just cos I live with him doesn’t mean I stare at him all day long.”

The girl flushed a deep shade of crimson, matching the heat in her eyes before she retorted,

“Well, at least I knew better than to wave them out of the stupid common room, as if it was my blessing.”

“I never actually said ‘I bless you’-“

“They didn’t sneeze, Ronald!”

“Well, there were a lot of fluids being passed around, if you catch my drift-“

“You’re absolutely disgusting! Why the hell would I want to hear something like that come spewing out of your mouth, as if I’m not traumatized enough!” Hermione spat, standing up from her fetal position.

“It’s been three days, Hermione. The damage has been done. There’s nothing we can do to fix it.”

“I’m not giving up hope. You said you were just as upset as I was-“

“Well, not at first, but lately-”

“And why is that?”

Ron hesitated for a moment, bringing up his hand to scratch the back of his neck as he stared at the tops of his shoes, “It just doesn’t seem right…”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along! Something is awry, it just doesn’t feel genuine.”

“It does to him.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“He’s on cloud nine,” he answered slowly, not meeting Hermione’s gaze.

Her face fell with a severity that cannot be described, and Hermione braced the wall for fear of collapsing. She slid down the rough partition like molasses, her hair crumpling behind her as her buttocks made its way toward the floor. Eyes blank with trepidation, she transfixed her stare on the row of flickering torches, crackling merrily against the gloomy hallway.

“I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“I just didn’t see this coming. It hit me like a ton of bricks- I never thought…”

“At least he’s happy?”

“But not with me…”

“Well, it’s not like they’re engaged or anything- and something still isn’t quite right…”

“I’ve noticed,” she droned, staring daggers at her companion.

“No, really, Hermione, something’s off.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed- I’ve been a little too preoccupied with other matters.”

“That’s what you’ve got me for,” Ron said with a grin, Hermione rolling her eyes as she turned to face him.

“Get on with it, then.”

“I know they’ve only been at it a couple of days, but he says he can’t ever find her. Like she’s gone half the time-“

“Well, that’s good news, I suppose,” she mused, tilting her eyes to the ceiling in thought.

“Not for him-“

“But for me.”

“Well, we’re not really, erm, talking about you…”

Beams of death shot out of her eyes as she clenched her jaw, fingers coiling in rage at her sides.

“But we’ll get to that,” Ron piped up quickly, sweat pouring from his brow, “I just mean it’s bothering him. You know- wondering where she’s off to all the time. I can see where he’s coming from.”

“If she’s genuinely been interested in him for five years or more, why on earth would she be anywhere else other than his arms? She’s not that popular-“

“Weasleys have their charms,” Ron drawled, grinning like mad as he laced his fingers behind his head.

“Must’ve skipped you, then,” Hermione snorted, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“I have plenty of charm!”

“Your fly is unzipped.”

Ron’s cheeks turned the color of his hair as he whipped around and ‘fixed his business.’ Hermione giggled for the first time in days and brushed a strand of curls behind her ear, her smile vanishing as soon as it appeared when she heard a pair of voices in the distance.

“Who is tha-“

“Shhh!!” she scolded, slapping a hand over Ron’s mouth.

“That was wonderful. Bloody amazing,” a girl’s voice echoed down the corridor.

A male’s voice laughed at her remark and said something inaudible, causing the girl to giggle.

“Well, it wasn’t all you,” the girl teased, their footsteps coming closer.

“No, I highly doubt you could handle all of me,” the male voice said, accompanied by more laughter.

Just then, Ginny rounded the corner and caught sight of Ron and Hermione- freezing mid-step as her eyes widened in fear. The pair sitting in the stairwell merely goggled at her, neither one’s face showing any trace of recognition.

“Ha ha ha! Harry- we’d better go back this way, stairwell’s taken. Sorry, you lot,” she finished with a wink, shoving her partner back to whence they came as Hermione fled up the staircase.

A/N: Short first chapter to (hopefully) get you interested. More background that I couldn’t tell you before: Hermione has, within the past three days, made it obvious to Ron that she likes Harry. If you didn’t pick up on this, the infamous common room kiss that H/G shared was several days before this conversation took place, and Hermione has been moping around ever since- somewhat distancing herself from Harry. Hope you come back for more, R&R please please please!!!

A/N: Here’s the next chapter- mostly dialogue. Hope you enjoy!

“It makes me sick, Ron. I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’s not….that bad…”

“Yes it is,” Hermione hissed, the following afternoon in the stairwell, “and they’re getting worse. She’s always jamming her hand in the backpocket of his trousers and fingering his ties, her hands dancing all over his collar. It’s sick.”

“At least they’re not snogging in public.”

“Yeah, cos their doing it in abandoned broom cupboards,” Hermione shot, her eyes grazing the ceiling in annoyance, “That’s the next step, you know- kissing on empty common room couches, a quick French between classes- it’s all downhill from here. Are you even listening?”

“What?” Ron lost the dreamy expression previously displayed on his freckled features, his eyes darting back to the disgruntled witch on the third stair.

“Were you daydreaming about the things I was saying?”

“Well, er…” a blush creeped up Ron’s face as he avoided her gaze, refusing to answer her question.

“With whom?” Hermione asked with a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It’s not important! I thought we were talking about you?”

“This is true. But I’m not going to forget this little exchange…”she said with a pointed stare, Ron exhaling the breath he was holding, “I still don’t see why you didn’t confront Harry about yesterday’s little escapade.”

“Why would I? It was with my sister!”

“Didn’t you talk about your flings with Lavender?”

“But she’s not my sister-“

“Well, that’s a relief, Ron- I’m glad you weren’t shagging your sister. I don’t think Molly would be too pleased…”

“Oh, sod off,” Ron said with red ears, burying his face in his hands, “I mean she’s not Harry’s sister.”

“Oh, right,” Hermione sniggered, reveling in Ron’s lack of proper grammar usage, “I still don’t see why you didn’t confront him.”

“I don’t want to know what all goes on between him and Ginny!”

“Well, don’t think of it like that- and you don’t have to ask him all the time, just ask him what happened yesterday.”

“I’m not doing it. If you want to know so badly, you ask him.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous! I can’t bring that up in everyday conversation? It’s a guy thing, Ron. But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that… Anyway, since you’re no help I’ll have to think of something else.”

Ron glared at Hermione from beneath the banister, arms crossed in a huff as he watched her pace the stairs.

“What could I do to break them apart…or at least get him to notice me…” she said to herself, watching her feet cross the marble granite.

“What if we made him jealous?” Ron cried, jumping up and whacking his head on the balustrade.

“Jealous? What are you talking about?”

“Well, erm…uh” Ron blinked his eyes a few times, fiercely rubbing the knot forming on his crown, and continued, “You and me- we shack up and drive ‘em both crazy!”

“Them both crazy?” Hermione asked with the cock of her brow.

“Like a swap, yeah?” he added excitedly, nodding his head at his brilliant plan.

“Alright, then. I’ll give you first pick- which one do you want?” Hermione said flatly, rolling her eyes with impatience.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Ron, you said it was a swap. Do you want Harry or Ginny? I’d prefer Harry myself, considering he’s the one I’m after, but really it’s your call.”

“Well I guess I’ll take- oh…”

“You know, I’m really starting to worry about you going after your sister… should I get you a pamphlet on incest?”

“Shut up, Hermione!” Ron yelled, refusing to look at the smugness on her face.

“It was a good try, Ron- honest,” she said in a laughing voice, descending the stairs, “but we couldn’t do that, come on. If we ended up together, you’d end up naming our children something like ‘Rose and Hugo,’” she said off the top of her head, shooting Ron a pertinent glance.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked defensively, narrowing his eyes as he turned to look at her.

“Nobody should name their children that- sounds like a band of wild hippogriffs,” Hermione reasoned, her voice rising with each syllable.

“So?”

“They’re CHILDREN, Ron, not brainless ogres! Running around humping everything in sight and wiping their arse with a garden gnome. But I suppose your children could be.”

“I’m not helping you anymore!” and Ron stormed off toward the west wing without another word, leaving an irritated Hermione in his wake.

She plopped down on the bottom stair, resting her chin in her hands, and resumed her thoughts to the situation impending. ‘Ron really wasn’t much help,’ she thought, tapping her toes on the floor in random rhythm. ‘Lavender as his sister…swapping me for Ginny- or Harry…’ she smiled to herself as the image of Ron dating Harry danced through her head. ‘Better him than Ginny…’

She snorted aloud at the vision, echoing down the corridor as a presence sat down behind her.

“Harry!” she gasped, startled at his sudden appearance.

“Hey, seen Ginny?”

“No,” she murmured into her palm, lids drooping in disappointment.

“Where’s Ron? I thought he was, er- with you,” he finished awkwardly, giving her a weird grin.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, “Yes, he was- earlier…”

“So, I came at a good time, then,” he chuckled, ruffling the back of his hair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, well, you know…” his cheeks were slightly pink as he avoided her gaze, scuffing a shoe on the patterned floor.

“NO, I don’t know,” Hermione asked heatedly, her eyes wild with fear.

“Ginny said- the other day- you and, er, Ron. Alone in the stairwell…you know-“

“Know WHAT?”

“Together.”

“Together, talking,” Hermione said in a callous tone, her breathing becoming uneven.

“You can tell me, Hermione, it’s okay-“

“There’s nothing to tell! Ron and I didn’t do anything! I don’t want to do anything with Ron! I want to do something with y-“

“There you are!” Ginny said out of breath, rounding the same corner from yesterday with brown eyes shining, “I’ve been looking all over.”

“Me, too,” Harry said with a grin, placing his hand on Hermione’s leg to hoist himself up, “Where’ve you been?”

“Library,” she replied with a smile, taking a step towards Harry.

“I was just in there-“

“Well, so was I,” she said in a sing-song voice, rubbing her nose with his.

Hermione looked as if she was about to throw up, rocking back and forth on the stair.

“Alright, ‘mione?” Harry asked, voice laden with concern.

“Peaches. You two meet here often, then?” she said nonchalantly, flicking her eyes to where Ginny just came from.

“Wha-“

“Come on, Harry, we’ve got to go,” Ginny urged, dragging his arm down the corridor. “All the time, Hermione!” she called over her shoulder, shoving Harry around the corner, “See you!”

As they disappeared around the stony partition, Hermione buried her face in her hands, wishing all the gold in Gringott’s she could trade places with Ginny for a day.

A/N: Poor Hermione : ( But it gets better, I promise! The next chapter may bump up the rating, I’m not sure yet. I hope I’ve peaked your interest… more H/Hr in the next installment <3

p.s.- review review review!!! :- )

A/N: Okay, this chapter may seem a bit pointless, but just stay tuned. The second author’s note will have explanations : )

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Hermione snatched the floral robe that dangled off its hook, jamming it over her arms as she exited the shower.

Parvati entered the lavatory in a purple dressing gown, brushing the long plait of tresses that flowed down her sides. Humming to herself, she hovered in front of the mirror before spotting a very disgruntled Hermione in the background, eyes shooting laser beams at the polished glass.

“Oh, yeah- faucet’s broken.”

“Sadly, that knowledge could have helped me,” Hermione drawled, grabbing her toiletries in a huff, “You mean to tell me the entirety of the Gryffindor girls’ bathroom isn’t working properly? And no one bothered to inform me of it? How exactly is it ‘broken?’” Hermione asked skeptically, pursing her lips at the vague description of the apparent shower malfunction.

“Oh- well, Lavender was taking a really hot shower this morning and the water turned off when she was rinsing her hair. She was so upset because there were soap bubbles still in her curls. Had to wash them out in the sink. Isn’t that dreadful?”

“Ghastly,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes, “So did you lot expect me to just ‘figure it out’ then when I hopped in here this morning?” Hermione spat, glaring at Parvati’s reflection.

“Well, you’re good at that sort of thing,” the girl answered simply, turning around in a languid manner as a brush slid gracefully through her locks.

“Wait! Where did you take a shower this morning?”

“Oh…” Parvati said quietly, dark brown eyes finding the floor, “Dean and I, er- he let me use theirs,” she stumbled, “I guess you could try the boys’ loo…” she suggested, still not meeting her gaze.

“Merlin, Parvati, you’re worse than Ginny We…” Hermione trailed off, holding her breath as she awkwardly sidled toward the door.

Parvati stopped mid-stroke and glued her eyes to Hermione’s frozen form, her pouty lips pulling into a smirk. Shining strands of darkest night shimmered in the sunlight, streaming in from the windows on the adjacent wall. She opened her mouth as if to speak, dark eyes sparkling with mischief before she was cut off-

“Thanks, Parvati- I think I will go to the boys’ loo,” and Hermione raced out the door in a flash, chestnut tendrils whipping in her wake.

Floral dressing gown billowing behind her, Hermione descended the spiraling stairs and dashed up the other side, dainty feet pattering on each marble step. Prancing rapidly down the corridor to avoid detection, she skidded to a halt at the sixth door on the left, brown hair lashing about as she checked for other hallway inhabitants.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

Bouncing on her heels as she waited for an answer, the antsy witch heard a great shuffle commence behind the wooden aperture, feet shuffling against the carpet followed by an ardent groan.

The mystery figure fumbled with the doorknob, Hermione’s eyes bulging in anticipation for fear of getting caught. Ever so slowly, the gate was finally opened, revealing a sleep-ridden Ron with his shirt inside out.

“Harry’s not here, go put some more clothes on,” he yawned after eyeing Hermione’s lack of proper attire.

“Would you just let me in?” she hissed, smacking his arm out of the way as she bustled in the door.

“What’s the special occasion? You don’t sport this look very often,” Ron mused, ruffling his already crumpled locks as he stifled another yawn.

“Yours isn’t much better- Cannons knickers, Ron? Really?”

“Well at least I don’t look like a banshee!” he snapped, face flushed with pink as he snatched a robe off the dresser.

“Where is everybody? Where’s Harry?” Hermione inquired, ignoring Ron’s attempt at morning humor. “Ugh, this place is disgusting,” she gagged, wrinkling her nose at the rather large pile of chocolate frog wrappers on the floor.

“I dunno- prolly out snogging….Neville,” he finished quickly, snapping his head to the four-poster on his left.

Hermione’s lids drooped in annoyance as she turned her gaze to Ron, “Swing and a miss,” she said flatly.

“I’m not snogging anyone,“ a sleepy voiced mumbled from behind a scarlet curtain.

“Oh, there’s Neville,” Ron said matter-of-factly, “see, someone else is in here.”

“Well, now it’s a party,” Hermione intoned, arms akimbo as her eyes grazed the ceiling, “Look, I’m just in here to take a shower. The girls’ loo is apparently ‘broken’- do you mind if I use yours?”

“Why certainly! You wouldn’t need any help perchance?” he added excitedly, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

“Yuck! I thought you just told me I looked like a banshee?” she mocked, head shaking fervently as she narrowed her eyes.

“Well, everything looks good naked,” Ron said with a grin, brows raised in expectancy.

“Even your Aunt Muriel?”

“Awww, Merlin, Hermione- that’s sick! What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Now that image is going to be seared in my brain for the rest of the day-“

“Incest, Ron…” she interjected with a sneer, “What would your mother say?”

“NOT LIKE THAT- go take your bloody shower, for the love of Quidditch,” he shouted, ferociously rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the horrid mental picture burning its way into memory.

“Look at all these Quibbler magazines, good Lord, Ronald- where did all these come from?” Hermione asked with a scrunch of her nose, suddenly spotting the heap of glossy publications from behind a broken broomstick.

“Wha-“

“Hey, Ron- I just remembered,” Neville said slowly, sitting on the edge of his bed with the hangings draped over his ears, “when Hermione was talking about your knickers.”

“Okay, one- that sounds absolutely horrendous if taken out of context, two- don’t ever say that again, for the sake of my sanity, please, three- Neville, that was more than five minutes ago, get with the program,” Hermione declared, “Is this a special edition?” she asked incredulously, picking up an issue off the floor between a pinched thumb and forefinger.

“Give me that!” Ron snatched the magazine out of her hands, turning his attention to Neville, “What about my knickers, Neville?” he asked oddly as he twitched his head about the room, wondering if he actually just asked that.

“Oh, well I’m pretty sure the house elves keep stealing mine…and-“

“I’m sure they do no such thing!” Hermione yelled, taken aback by his abrupt accusation. Her mouth popped open and her eyes were wide with shock, soon staring daggers at the boy trembling beneath his bed sheets.

“Well, erm- I dunno where they went, then. But, I just wanted to tell you that I borrowed a pair of yours the other day…” Neville said absent-mindedly, watching as Ron’s eyes opened so wide that the blue was barely visible among the white. His jaw quivered like a leaf on a tree, odd noises sputtering from his mouth.

“Don’t worry, Ron- I didn’t lose them. I put them back in your trunk.”

“Which ones, Neville, which!?“ Ron finally demanded, head swimming with anxiety, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!?! Merlin, Neville, what did they look like?” the words tumbled out of his mouth in a panic, Ron rushing to his trunk and tossing all his undergarments across the room.

“Well, they had the Cannons on them…” Neville said eventually, tilting his chin upward in thought.

“They ALL have the Cannons on them!” Ron yelled frantically, knickers flying all over the place.

“But these were orange-“

“Damn it, Neville! I only own orange knickers!” he cried, shaking the entire contents of his trunk on to the carpet.

“That’s why it’s good to have variety,” Hermione taunted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh, I found them, Ron,” Neville said with a smile, Ron releasing the air from his lungs as he laid back against his four-poster, “You’re wearing them.”

Hermione jumped out of the way and quickly crossed the room, dodging piles of dirty socks as Ron attempted to hurl in his trunk. She grimaced and turned away, looking sympathetically at the startled boy on the bed, and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Neville, I’m going to use the lavatory, alright? Just don’t borrow my knickers.”

“I’ll try,” Neville said in confusion, scratching the side of his head as he watched Ron’s unpleasant production.

Hermione set her clothes on the bureau beside the door, gently placing a hand on the brassy handle. Fingers coiling around the icy metal, she shivered slightly as her palm joined with the mahogany surface, applying pressure to the heavy entry. The door swung open with surprising ease, allowing Hermione inside.

She softly shut the wooden barrier, separating the witch from the repulsive events behind her. Black and white tiles patterned the floor, leading to a row of magnificent sinks- the ceramic sculpted in a collage of seashells. The shower basins were on the left, behind billowing curtains of translucent silk.

The girls’ lavatories were much more enclosed, having separate doors rather than curtains. Hermione tiptoed to a station, peeking around the partition like a mouse, and flitted her eyes about the enclosure. Curious orbs of chocolate brown searched the tiled walls, slipping back to the outside after passing inspection.

She jabbed a hand behind the curtain, watching it vanish behind the ‘transparency’ before snatching it back to her chest.

‘Interesting…’ Hermione thought, letting her floral gown slither to the floor. She glided into the shower with poise, taking a deep breath before turning on the water. A torrential rain drenched her unclothed form, steam rising from her body as she let the drops roll down her skin.

She reveled in the tranquility of her surroundings, breathing deeply as lilacs and honeysuckle filled her nose. Hermione finished her bathe, watching the last remnants of soap disappear from her body, swirling beneath her in a whimsical flurry.

Shaking drenched tendrils against the curve of her back, she leaned in to turn off the faucet, expecting the downpour to screech to a halt. Twisting the knob with all her might, she blocked the flow of water from the spigot, but the sound of a light rainfall still flooded her ears.

Eyes widening in fear, realization donned on Hermione’s face, terror enveloping her entire body as the frosty air nipped at her skin.

Someone else was in the shower.

She slid a hand between the silken tapestry and the wall, blindly searching for her floral gown. Remembering she let it fall to the floor, she snatched her arm back inside and began wildly hunting the ground, brown eyes burning a hole in the patterned tiles. It was gone.

Panic filled every fiber of her body, flooding her veins with absolute terror. ‘What am I going to do?’ ran continuously through her brain, over and over until she finally reached a decision. Run.

Not wearing a stitch of clothing, Hermione dashed out from the curtain and fled to the door, cracking it open just wide enough to snatch her things through the aperture. Whipping her arm back inside, she wrapped the towel around her sopping form, slamming the door and leaning her back up against it.

She slid down the rich mahogany, eyes closed in relief of avoiding a possible embarrassing situation. Hermione figured she would take her clothes, crumpled on the floor beside her, and run them back to her curtain- changing into them as she waited for the other occupant to finish.

She realized, however, that the sound of a gentle rain no longer echoed against her surroundings, apparently having ended during the construction of her plans. Taking in the eerie silence, she slowly opened her eyes- only to find another pair staring back at her.

A/N: I KNOW this chapter was not what you expected but just HOLD ON, okay? Lol I’m building something here and you will NOT be disappointed. I know I promised H/Hr in this chapter, but it took longer than expected to get to. If you’ll just put your torches and pitchforks away, you will not be sorry (I hope). Next chapter up shortly!!!

A/N: **WARNING: ADULT SITUATIONS IN THIS CHAPTER**

“What are you doing here?”

“I think that’s kind of obvious.”

“Oh…” Hermione breathed, trying to keep her eyes on Harry’s face rather than his dripping towel.

“A more plausible question would be, ‘what are you doing here?’” he asked softly, his eyes wandering the sopping witch before him.

“Girls’ loo is broken,” was all she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “When did you get here?”

“After you, apparently. I thought you were Dean or Seamus…”

“Not quite…” Hermione said quietly, an awkward smile playing on her lips.

Their eyes continued to search the other’s form, both soaking wet and covered with merely a towel. Hermione’s breathing became shallow, her eyes hovering on the obstruction blocking her view. She noticed Harry was exhaling deeply, pools of green glued to the the dripping material she held in each fist, centimeters above her breasts.

“So, where were you, then?” Hermione asked timidly, voice quivering with each syllable- dreading his answer.

“Common room- I left my potions essay on one of the tables…” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.

“You weren’t out with…” Hermione trailed off, taking a step closer to Harry as her unblinking eyes bore into his. Brown melted into green, as if joining them together, and a magnetic beam was set into motion, drawing them nearer with each passing breath.

“No,” he answered faintly, chest heaving up and down as Hermione crept closer.

“You weren’t out snogging her, I take it?” her eyes were set ablaze, flames flickering beneath the shiny surface. Beads of water glistened on her creamy complexion, trickling down her chest below the thin partition. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip, flicking her mane of sodden tresses as she gazed intently into Harry’s eyes.

“We haven’t done that in a while…” he confessed, taking a step closer to her lightly fluttering towel.

“Oh? Well, I can’t say that I have either,” she drawled, her voice husky as their bodies touched, heat radiating from beneath the gathered fabrics.

“I certainly can’t see why…” Harry fiddled with the hem of her towel, feeling the softness of the cloth beneath his fingertips.

“I can’t see why you’re with Ginny,” she uttered, not in an angry tone, but one of general curiosity. Her fingers danced across his gleaming biceps as she lusted for his chest, eyes searing the bronzen muscles that glinted in the morning light.

“She likes me,” he whispered into her hair, a trembling hand winding its way through the sodden curls, “No one’s really liked me before.”

“I do,” she breathed into his neck, chills running down Harry’s spine.

Their eyes locked in a heated battle, fiery embers of emerald scorching the chocolate brown. Hermione felt the warmth of something on her leg, realizing it was him, and panted uncontrollably as Harry grabbed her in his arms. He covered her mouth with his own, dripping locks of darkest night falling into his eyes.

Hermione kissed back with every fiber of her being, feeling the softness of his lips press back against hers. Eyes closed in ecstasy, she reached for his hair, running a hand through the soaking tresses that felt like silk beneath her fingers.

Harry’s tongue slid down her throat, one writhing against the other in a blaze of burning passion. His hands found her sides, smoothing the divider that separated him from the delicious curves of her body. He yanked the towel from around her backside, dropping it to the floor as greedy hands caressed her bare physique.

The door knob rattled from behind them and the magic was torn apart, Hermione gasping as Harry thrust her into the nearest shower, jumping in behind her. Squashed together behind the billowing curtain, they heard a grumbling figure trudge along the patterned ground, followed by a loud ‘thud.’

Hermione’s wet towel was still on the floor.

“GOD DAMN IT! Stupid Neville using my pants and leaving bleeding towels all over the ruddy place, I ought to kill him in his sleep…”

Harry could feel Hermione shivering beneath him, her eyes wide with fear as they stared at the crack in their flowing barrier. Harry quickly turned on the faucet, the sounds of rushing water drowning out the intruder in their midst. Streams of dampness rained on his skin, gliding down his arms and chest as he stood to face his prisoner.

Hermione was backed against the wall, completely unaware of her nakedness, and briefly met his gaze before slowly lowering her own, lingering on the sodden towel he clamped tightly in his fist. Harry watched her eyes, feeling the urge to look elsewhere, and abruptly opened his palm, the drenched material plopping to the stone basin below.

A spark was lit in her eyes, water pouring down her supple breasts as steam surrounded her features. Harry’s unclothed form crept closer, forest green clinging to every curve of her silhouette. He was completely drenched, watching her watching him, eyes filled with desire as he brushed a sopping tendril from her eyes.

Hermione swayed her hips in a sultry manner, biting her lip as their naked bodies found one another, raindrops beating relentlessly on unveiled flesh. Harry feverishly kissed her jawline, Hermione’s breath ragged as his hands caressed her ribcage.

She delicately fingered the tip of his appendage, Harry’s eyes widening as they stared into hers, a small gasp escaping from his lips. Her hand gently glided over its smooth surface, tightening her grip as she moved it back and forth, the water flowing freely over its exposed façade.

Harry grinded into her, smacking a hand to the wall as he enveloped her mouth in his own, tearing into the velvety lips that quivered beneath him. He kneaded her breasts, running a finger over the hardened nipples as Hermione continued to stroke his protrusion.

Continuously changing pace, she rubbed fast and slow, barely grazing the exterior then vigorously massaging the rounded apex. A living fantasy, Hermione’s face was flushed with longing and passion, Harry’s body stiffening underneath her sliding fingertips.

He whipped his head back, stifling a cry as bottled passion was released from within. Surrounded by a misty fog, the gentle sound of a waterfall pattered on the basin, the pair in the shower smiling and breathless as the spigot was tightly closed.

Harry tucked his head out from behind the curtain, surveying the room for its other previous occupant. The room completely empty, he handed Hermione the floral robe she had thought to be lost- helping her out of the shower as he did so.

She draped the satin material over her bare skin, the material clinging to her dampened frame. Cheeks tinged with pink, she took Harry’s hand, allowing him to lead her into the frigid open. The room was deafeningly silent, the mysterious figure- most likely Ron- having disappeared.

Awkwardness filled the room, hearts beating just as quickly as before with the nervousness of what to say.

“We can’t tell anybody.”

A/N: Who said it? And why? Find out in the forthcoming installment of “Deceptions”- coming to a Portkey near you! ; )

A/N: Chapter 5- up as promised! Would’ve updated sooner, but I had a MONSTROUS exam yesterday. Nearly killed me it did. Be that as it may, I hope you enjoy- and the plot thickens…

“Wha- but, why!?”

“I think we’d hurt a lot of people…”

“Yeah, me!”

“No, I mean like Ron and Ginny.”

“What about Ron……and Ginny?” Hermione added in an undulating tone, lids immediately drooping at the thought.

“We cheated on them, Hermione. I feel terrible inside. I can’t believe we did that-“

“I didn’t cheat on anybody!” she cried, eyes ablaze with fear and fury as she paced the patterned tiles.

“You can deny it all you want, but it still happened.”

“The only thing I’m denying is being repeatedly affiliated with Ronald Weasley,” Hermione shot with a scrunch of her nose, his name rolling off her tongue with a hint of distaste, “I thought we cleared this up last week, Harry- I. DON’T. LIKE. RON.”

“But Ginny said-“

“Ugh, yes- Ginny. Why are you even with her, Harry? She’s been with three or four other blokes this semester, Ron says you can’t ever find the girl, and when she is around you all she does is molest your outer clothing,” she snapped.

Harry’s cheeks were almost as flushed as Hermione’s, a stony wall of tension surrounding the pair as they avoided each other’s gaze. An uncomfortable silence ensued, apprehension settling in as neither party dared to speak.

“She likes me,” Harry said quietly, startling the grievant witch behind him, “She’s fancied me for years, Ron’s told me. I know what it’s like…” he trailed off, eyes fixated on the black square beneath his feet.

A wave of forgotten jealousy crashed down on Hermione, drowning her features in anger and pain as she glared into nothingness, a black hole of emotions swallowing her entire body.

Cho.

“That’s why you’re with Ginny? So you can spare her the feelings you endured when you pined after Chang? Harry, that’s awf-“

“No, that’s not the only reason,” he lifted his gaze, leaning onto the sculpted ceramic as he stared into the looking glass, “She likes me for me. She’s with me for who I am- not what I am.”

Blackened emeralds stared at the striking mark above his eyes, mere inches from the mirror yet a thousand miles away.

“You think I don’t?” Hermione asked softly, the words escaping her lips like the breath of a wilting flower. She timidly stepped behind Harry in the mirror, locking her eyes on the distant green. Orbs of misty brown seared into the polished glass, a haunting gaze of question filled with unrequited sorrow.

“But, I thought you were with Ron…”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HARRY, THIS IS THE LAST TIME I’M GOING TO TELL YOU- I DO NOT LIKE RONALD FUCKING WEASLEY,” Hermione fumed, enfuriated with the recurring accusation. Her jaw clenched with astonishing force, fingers coiled in fists of seething rage, “What the hell has Ginny been telling you?”

Harry was slightly taken aback, whipping around to face the boiling witch behind him. Frames glinting in the sunlight as he turned, he ogled at the glistening floor, still wet from the products of mutual attraction.

“It’s been more than a week or so, but she said she- erm…caught…you in the stairwell, you know…”

“Yes, talking,” Hermione spat, toxins oozing from the word as it slid from her throat, “Well, you were there- what, were you too embarrassed to poke your head around the corner? Didn’t think we could ‘handle all of you either?’” she taunted, stamping a foot with her back to him now.

“What are you talking abo-“

“Don’t give me that rubbish, Harry- that was one of the worst Wednesdays of my entire existence-“

“Wednesday? What Wednesday?” Harry interjected with the risk of his well being, cocking a brow as he snapped his head toward Hermione.

“Ugh, are you daft? The Wednesday you lot were running around like the stars of some pornographic fabrication- shagging in bloody broom cupboards and abandoned stairwe-“

“We’ve never done tha-“

“HA,” Hermione scoffed, jerking her nose in the air, “That’s not what you lead people to believe.”

“I don’t care what other people believe, I care about what you think, but we’re not even talking about that. I want to make sure this happened on a Wednesday. Are you absolutely positive?” he asked with unblinking eyes, gazing intently on Hermione’s bothered brown ones.

“Is my name Hermione Granger?” she shot with a purse of her lips, brows raised in expectancy.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the ceiling before he continued, “Hermione, I meet with Dumbledore on Wednesdays.”

It took a while for the words to register, locks of twisted brown slowly swiveling to the foreground as Hermione faced her companion.

“I suppose you do…”

At that moment the door nearly swung off its hinges as Ron came bumbling through, traipsing his way across the modeled squares as he fumbled for the sinks. Harry and Hermione froze on the spot, both half naked and eyes round with terror. Jaws slamming to the tiles, they watched in horror as the third party began washing his face in the creamy basin on their left.

“Don’t mind me, just doing my business,” he announced casually. “D’you know Neville’s been wearing my knickers all year? Not just the one time? Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too. Madame Pomfrey gave me some sort of potion to relax, cos apparently I nearly killed him. So, I don’t really care about my knickers anymore,” Ron rambled with a peculiar smile, his eyes slightly out of focus.

Hermione merely stared with a look of bewilderment, mouth still agape at the strangely modified Ron, while Harry cleared his throat, “Er- you know you’re in the girls’ loo, Ron- yeah?” he said with shifty eyes, giving Hermione a pertinent glance.

“Is that right? Wondered why ole ‘mione was in here. Thanks, Harry!” and Ron turned around simply beaming, meandering out of the lavatory as he hummed the school song. Backwards.

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t want to tap that,” Harry mused, watching Ron tickle the doorknob.

Hermione shot him a disapproving look before softening her gaze, her lips pulling into a smirk as the door snapped to a close.

“Do you really care about what I think, Harry?”

He turned his gaze toward the inquiring witch, leisurely blinking as he captured her eyes with his own, “Hermione, I’ve always cared what you thought. You know me better than anybody- you’re my best friend.”

Pallid cheeks turning rose, she batted her lashes and turned away, looking back up at him to say, “Then why can’t we be together, Harry? Why haven’t you ever asked me to Hogsmeade? I’ve liked you for ages-“

“You have?” he sputtered, forest green bulging in incredulity, “But…you and Ron, you were always arguing and flirting-“

“I’d hardly call that flirting!” Hermione said heatedly, her forehead so hot you could fry an egg, “What do you think flirting is? Yelling at the top of one’s lungs and not speaking for days, insulting the other and berating their very existence, eye rolls and snide remarks mixed with a pinch of general unpleasentness?”

“Well…I s’pose you have a point…”

“Harry,” she said gently, taking a small step toward him, “It’s you. It’s always been you…” she laid a hand on his arm, peeking around his shoulder to try and catch his eye.

His gaze found hers as he pivoted to face her, studying the melting chocolate in the ring of toffee brown. He released the breath he held within, filled with heavy decision and pangs of regret. He encompassed her arms in his hands, applying a firm pressure to her slender biceps, feeling the beat of her heart beneath his own.

She waited with baited breath for a response, losing herself in jewels of shimmering jade.

“Hermione, I can’t…” Harry croaked, heart bleeding into his chest as the words escaped his lips.

A single teardrop slid down her cheek, beads of sorrow clinging to her eyelashes. Her bottom lip trembled, eyes brimming with a stinging turmoil she could no longer contain.

“Harry, why…” she breathed, eyes wide and frantic, searching his face for an answer.

“I like you, Hermione, more than a friend- I do. It’s just not fair to Ginny- it would kill her.”

“I feel like I’m already dead.”

Hermione whipped around without a word, waterfalls rushing down her dappled features as she dashed across the palatial room. Matted curls of dampened chestnut lashed behind her poignant form, footsteps echoing off the extravagant walls. Harry stood a solemn ground, completely motionless as he gazed in to the distance, watching her go- his heart leaving with her.

A/N: I know, (snuffles) bring out the Kleenex boxes : ( Don’t hate me!! A little drama now gets a lot of humor later <3 I promise promise promise this will get better someday… please stay tuned to find out!!

A/N: Two chapters within a period of several hours- I think that MORE than makes up for the last chapter : ) Hope you like this one a bit better- R&R if you please!

“So, what happened again?”

“Well, I’m not going to go into the finer details, but let’s just say your sister’s got a hold on him like a goblin with a galleon.”

“And why is that again?”

“Are you sure that potion wore off? Cos right now you have roughly the intelligence of a dustbin…”

“Shut UP, Hermione!”

“SHHHHHH!” Madame Pince hissed from across the room, her eyes piercing Ron like the fang of a basilisk as her lips pursed to the point of disappearance.

“Why do you have a clove of garlic around your neck?” Hermione whispered in a voice of sheer bemusement, eyeing the pungent cloves sticking out from beneath his collar. “Trying to ward off Snape? I’ve told you time and time again he’s not a member of the eternal darkness-“

“No- “ Ron shot back, shoving the vegetables underneath his robes.

“Then what on earth are they for?” she inquired, arching a slender brow as she shuffled her stack of parchment.

“It’s part of the healing process…for my rage,” he finished quickly, jamming a quill in his ink.

“Did you get that remedy from Pomfrey of Trelawney?” Hermione snickered, earning a heated glare from the vulture behind her desk.

Ron mocked a fit of laughter, sarcasm seared into his features as his eyes hit the vaulted ceiling.

“So, what ever did become of your knickers situation?” Hermione asked from beneath coiled fingers, eyes flickering briefly from her paper to Ron.

He suddenly turned a ripe shade of eggplant, clashing horribly with his mop of red hair. Ron fiddled in his seat a bit, awkwardly shuffling his robes against the wooden surface, “Erm, well….I threw them all out.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide as dinner plates before launching out of her chair, springs of muted auburn bouncing wildly about her shoulders. Madame Pince shot daggers beneath her horn-rimmed frames, glaring at the witch who was waving her arms about in a frenzy.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you? You mean to tell me you’re running ‘round Hogwarts commando?” Hermione shouted, earning bewildered stares from the entire contents of the library.

“Keep it down, will you?” Ron flushed even deeper, if possible, as the room’s other occupants slowly turned back to their previous states of being, although making sure to give Ron a considerably wide berth.

Hermione furrowed her brow and wondered why they weren’t being evicted from the library- swiveling her head around to the front desk- only to find a pair of very sensible shoes poking up from behind the surface.

“Look at those stockings- those are so out of style.”

“How would you know?” Hermione questioned, giving Ron a quizzical look as he buried his head in his hands. “Not having a good day are you?”

Ron rolled his eyes and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of ink across his upper lip.

“Er- you’ve got a-“

“I know I’ve got problems, Hermione, just drop it, okay? I can deal with them myself,” Ron grumbled, crossing his arms in a huff as Hermione’s lips curled into a sneer mixed with a smirk.

“Just remember this conversation when you leave here,” Hermione stated, giving one last glance to the unconscious form behind her as she moved to the opposite side of the table.

“I don’t see what’s so disgusting about it. I have robes on.”

“It’s the principle of the thing! There’s no buffer between, well, you and everything else!”

“My robes!” Ron said defensively, shaking his head back and forth in a fervor.

“That’s not enough,” Hermione said under her breath, not looking up from her parchment.

“I heard that,” Ron snapped, twitching his ‘mustache’ back and forth.

Hermione tried to suppress a grin as she watched him, Groucho Marx alive and well right in front of her.

“You never finished what you were saying about the bathroom incident. You know, I don’t even remember going in there? I vaguely recall Lavender throwing a bar of soap at my head, but why would I be in the girls’ loo?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as they flitted toward Ron, crinkling before she responded, “Well, I’ve always had my suspicions…”

“I don’t know why I even talk to you,” he glowered, refusing to look her direction.

“Because Harry, our buffer, is yet to be found. Do you see now why they’re a good thing?”

“Yeah, well, I bet he’s probably off sno-“

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said sternly, a visible fire burning in her eyes as she glared at the boy with no knickers.

“So, what happened in the bloody bathroom!” Ron spat, giving ugly looks to the witches and wizards who goggled and stared at his ‘stache.

Hermione sniggered before answering, “He likes me- ‘more than a friend,’ but he doesn’t want to hurt your sister. His infatuation slash rejection from Cho really messed him up in the pining department, and he can’t live with himself for cheating on Ginny.”

“I can see that. Harry’s never really been exposed to…er…properly functioning relationships.”

“Well, look at you! All empathetic and philosophical, now all you need is some underwear.”

“SOD OFF,” Ron shouted without punishment, considering the library’s current supervision was out cold under her desk.

A rather loud group of Slytherins could be heard making a raucous in the back, setting off fizzing whizbees at the first years passing by.

“Oh, that reminds me- I did find out something interesting about the ‘stairwell incident.’”

“Do tell? Maybe I have some information of my own…” Ron said with shifty eyes, brows raised in a superior fashion.

“SPILL IT, YOU TOSSSER,” Hermione raved, lunging across the table and forcefully grabbing his collar- the air forcing its way out of his lungs as Ron gasped and sputtered.

“I…don’t…know…anything…” he wheezed, Hermione releasing him with a shove, his chair teetering as it resumed its normal position, “Merlin, ‘mione, you don’t have to snap my head off,” Ron choked, rubbing his Adam’s apple as he gawked at the boisterous witch.

“Well, you shouldn’t lie, Ronald, you’d think your mother would teach you better. But then again, you don’t believe in wearing knickers…” Ron grimaced at this but ignored her.

“And you’ve repeatedly tried to shag your sister…”

“WILL YOU SHOVE IT?” Ron yelled, slamming his fist on the table in an insurmountable fit of rage.

“Guten Tag, Adolf,” Justin Finch-Fletchley called in a nonchalant manner, passing by their table without a second glance.

Hermione nearly lost it, roaring with irrepressible laughter at Ron’s vast misfortune, the look on his face mirroring that of a wounded hippogriff.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Justin Finch-Fletchley, he’s a Hufflepuff from ou-“

“NO, not him,” Ron rolled his eyes rather aggressively, scowling at a still giggling Hermione, “Eight off?”

Hermione snorted into her hand, light brown tendrils bouncing about her face as her eyes shined with knowing laughter, “’Eh- dollph’” she pronounced, attempting to hide her fervent chortles.

“Well, what’s an ‘eh- dollph?’”

“He was like the Grindelwald of the muggle world,” Hermione sighed, finally settling back into reality.

“Why the bloody hell would he call me that?” Ron asked in perplexity, black ink shimmering beneath his nose.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have the proper texts or the time,” Hermione said with a quick roll of her eyes, hoping she wasn’t present the next time Ron looked in a mirror.

“You still never told me your interesting insight,” Ron chided, rubbing his face so to smear the darkened smudges.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and continued, “Oh, right! Do you remember what day the ‘incident’ occurred?”

“The bathroom one or the stairwell one?”

“We already talked about the bathroom one!” Hermione hissed, losing her patience, “But I suppose it could be considered part of the latter since I learned of it in the bathroom…”

“Hermione, I’m going gray over here- would you just get on with it?”

“Well, do you remember the day? In the stairwell?” Hermione forcefully prodded.

“A couple weeks ago, I dunno- Harry left to see Dumbledore when I went looking for you.”

“Exactly!” Hermione’s eyes shined with excitement, face alight with possibilities, “So, what does that mean?” she goaded with a grin.

“I need more friends?”

Hermione gave him a death glare, eyes narrow enough to suffocate a fly, “Ignoring that- didn’t we see Ginny with somebody, presumably Harry, in the corridor across from the stairwell at that time?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, he couldn’t have been two places at once! Well, actually he can but we won’t get in to that,” she said pulling a face, shaking her head at the thought of explaining that to Ron.

“Well, who was she with, then?” Ron asked slowly, eyes fixated on a knot in the oaken table before him.

Hermione opened her mouth to pose an answer, but stopped upon seeing the library doors fly open, revealing a petite young witch with flaming red hair. Ginny Weasley sauntered through the entrance, applying a dab of lip gloss as she twirled a strand of silken scarlet around her finger.

A/N: I just love Ron <3 Here was a humor piece to break up some tension. Didn’t really move the plot along much, but it did a ‘liiiiiiiiiittle’ bit LOL. I considered expanding this chapter a bit more, but I thought this was a good place to leave it; plus, I’m tired and I wish for nothing more than sleep. Hoping for better feelings on this one : P

A/N: Okay, I KNOW it’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve updated, but unfortunately ‘real life’ got in the way. Too much for my liking, as it were. So, I should be back on schedule now- about a chapter a day or so. The good news is I’ve got the whole rest of the plot worked out, just needs to be fine tuned and such. I would like to thank ALL my reviewers (with the exception of one, and I bet you can guess who it is) for their wonderfully positive feedback and great interest in the story. It’s so fun to see what readers think is going to happen, trying to work out the plot. I LOVE IT- THANKS!!! I just want you to know that I truly appreciate your words of kindness, and you’ve inspired me to continue writing and get this thing done lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter, it’s been coming for a while…

**There is some ADULT language in this chapter, you have been forewarned**

Crimson flames lapped at her delicate face, lustful embers dancing in her eyes. Lost in a dream, the ginger goddess zoned in on her target, a slit of coffee brown glinting beneath darkened lashes. She prowled across the soundless room with the slink of a cat, hips swaying in a trancelike rhythm as pure desire radiated from every inch of her porcelain complexion.

Full lips parting ever so slightly, she ran the tip of her tongue across the shining surface, a hint of raspberry melting in her mouth. Drawing nearer to her destination, the redhead swaggered past an empty table, fingers brushing the polished surface as they traipsed across the sculpted pine. Her face twisted into a domineering smirk as she made her way through the library, suddenly crumpling to an expression of disgust as she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

Hermione.

Two sets of eyes were glued to Ginny’s officious features, one pair filled with malice and the other simply terrified. She sauntered to their lonely table, plaid skirt rippling just above her thigh, riding the line between tackiness and vulgarity. Dainty palms smacked against the glossy wood, Ginny’s frame leaning heavily upon it. She pressed her arms against her breasts, cleavage spilling out into the open from beneath a woolen sweater vest, hugging every curve of her developed torso. Ron’s face was mere inches from any other man’s delight, bottom lip trembling as his eyes frantically searched elsewhere.

“Look at the happy couple,” Ginny said with a sneer, flopping her head towards the seething witch on her left, “Harry and I just finished in the stairwell- it’s free for the taking,” she finished sweetly, a lock of shining strawberry falling gracefully into her eyes.

“I highly doubt that,” Hermione quipped, voice sharp as a tack with a look to match.

“I think I would know, we were just down there and-“

“No, I doubt Harry was with you in the stairwell,” Hermione said coolly, turning her attention back to the roll of parchment unfurling in her fingertips.

Ginny arched a brow at this and shot Hermione a look of mock amusement, “Are you saying we don’t participate in yours and Ron’s type of physical activity? Because I’m afraid you’d be mistak-“

“I didn’t say you weren’t still in the stairwell.”

A surge of heat rushed to Ginny’s cheeks as anger coursed through her veins, a flash of lightning flickering behind a ring of muddled auburn, “Listen here, Granger,” she hissed, staring daggers into equally murderous eyes, “you need to keep that nose of yours out of my business and back in a book where it belongs,” Ginny spat, flitting her gaze towards Advanced Potion Making as more pressure was exerted on her chest.

“Ginny, even if you were snogging Harry in an abandoned stairwell, which I know for a fact was not the case, images of me would have been dancing through his head the entire time…”

“Filthy slut,” Ginny drawled, narrowing her eyes as her fingers coiled around the table’s blunted edges, “You’re delusional. You don’t know anything about what Harry and I have. And as far as I’m concerned it’s going to stay that way,” she added with look of iniquity. “You’re nothing but a lonely and pathetic old maid, forced to live in the body of a seventeen year old with the figure of a grasshopper-“

Hermione’s wand was out so fast you couldn’t say Quidditch, half a flick away from causing the youngest Weasley a considerably lengthy hospital visit. Brown eyes gleaming, she rotated an elegant wrist three quarters to the left before an ink-smudged hand slapped it away from her objective- soon followed by a loud explosion from the bookcase close behind.

Ginny’s eyes were round as saucers as a fan of scarlet whipped toward the sudden travesty, the whole of the library following suit- with the exception of Madame Pince, of course. An entire bookcase had been destroyed, bits of ashen pages fluttering toward the ground as planks of mahogany crumbled from the ceiling. Hermione simply sat upright in her chair, a solemn oak amidst the paper rain, not daring to take her eyes off a flabbergasted Ginny- having narrowly escaped serious injury.

Ron looked as if she’d grown two heads, mouth as wide as a bass with eyes just as wide, blackened smears covering the bottom portion of his bewildered face. The remaining occupants shook their heads and returned to their previous states of being, burying themselves in books and paperwork while continually stealing glances to their table.

“You missed,” Ginny said flatly, crossing her arms as her brows flicked toward the ceiling, shimmering lips pulling into a smirk, “You just can’t seem to accomplish anything you want, can you, Granger? ‘Sreal pity,” she added, tugging at the hem of her vest in a triumphant manner so as to expose more of her upper body.

Hermione’s respiration was very uneven, heavy breaths escaping her lungs like the smoke of a steam engine. Pure hatred welled up inside her, creeping its way from her heart to her vision, a ring of fire circling her eyes with a passion to kill. It took every fiber in her body to keep from strangling Ginny Weasley, Ron’s quivering hand not anywhere near the strength required to hold her down.

“Anyway, seems I’m late for a study session- I’ll leave you here to work out your anger issues, along with your aim,” Ginny taunted, flipping a plait of red velvet behind her back. “So, back off Harry,” she threatened with a wince as her eyes fell on her brother, “And what the hell have you been up to? What, did you eat out the giant squid?” she asked with the scrunch of her nose, giving a quizzical look before making her leave, heads suddenly twitching from the front of the library back to their books.

An eerie silence settled around the table, Ron confused and frightened at the events that just occurred and those that were about to happen. Hermione exhaled deeply, her eyes fixated on the knot in the wood as she continuously clenched her fists under the table. Her counterpart watched nervously, no longer having to worry about soaking his pants, considering he wasn’t wearing any.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Hermione finally stated, not tearing her gaze from the knot.

“What do you mean went better than expected?! You nearly knocked off my sister and blew up a bloody bookshelf! You’re mad as a box of ruddy frogs, Hermione!” Ron said incredulously, blue eyes bulging at her cosmic understatement.

“I can’t stay in here any longer, I’ll lose my mind-“

“I think you already have…”

Hermione fired a death glare Ron’s direction, the wizard cowering instantly as her eyes landed on his shivering form. Heart racing, she bolted up from her chair and swiveled toward the exit, glimpsing a mop of red hair do the same before a mane of curls obstructed her view.

“Don’t follow me, Ron- just stay in here, please?”

“Why? The only reason I ever even come in here is cos you drag me- typically by the ear…Why do I have to stay put in the most boring waste of space in the castle? You just destroyed the magazine section, now I’ve got nothing to read.”

“Just do it, alright?” Hermione snapped, losing her patience and on the verge of bursting into flames.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Ron whined, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck as he longingly eyed the massacred shelves of forgotten Quidditch leaflets.

“Merlin, I don’t know- do damage control, watch Ginny- I don’t care. I just need to get out of here.”

“Are you alright, ‘mione?” Ron asked abruptly, voice laden with concern as he watched the hyperventilating witch before him, “I’m sorry about my sister…”

“Ya, Ron- thanks,” she finished quickly, a ghost of a smile fading from her face as she grabbed her books, jamming them haphazardly in her tawny satchel.

“I prolly won’t wake up ol’ bitchy britches, and I dunno if I can fix the bookshelves… but I guess I can make sure what happened in the library ‘stays in the library’ if you catch my drift…and I didn’t see where Ginny went-“

“Ron, you’re a prince- not really, but I figure I’ve got to give you some credit somewhere,” Hermione mused, hastily grabbing her quills.

“Hey, maybe I’m the Half-Blood Prince!” Ron said excitedly, eyes twinkling with possibilities.

“Yeah, Roonil, you let me know how that turns out,” she intoned, lids drooped with intolerance.

“I don’t see why I couldn’t be! You just said I had all the makings of a prince-“

“Is that how you heard it? Good lord, Ron, it’s no wonder you can’t get anything straight. One- I never said that, and two- aren’t you a pureblood, anyway?” Hermione asked in irritation, swiftly twisting the lid onto her bottle of ink as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

Ron’s face fell into a discomfited frown as pink blotches spread across his cheeks, embarrassing realization dancing across his freckled features. Hermione heard him grumble something about ‘maybe Roonil Wazlib isn’t’ but she couldn’t quite make it out. Flinging a quick wave of appreciation, the frazzled witch darted out of the library, Ron continuing to mumble in her wake.

Hermione promptly fled the scene and wrenched open the heavy doors, bursting forth from the library with the force of a cannon. Running away from Ginny’s words of pain and anguish, she barreled down the corridor at lightning speed, rounding every turn to fight the tears stuck in her throat. Pounding the earth like thunder, her feet treaded down the gloomy hallway, picking up speed with each passing step. She turned the corner with surprising momentum, briefly glancing back behind her, and ran smack dab into someone coming from the opposite direction. Both parties were sprawled on the ground, put in a sudden daze from their dynamic greeting.

“Hermione!”

A/N: Yes, yes, a TERRIBLE place to end it- I am aware. But you’ll come back when I update, right? : ) I know there could have been more of a showdown, but that was just a taste… I couldn’t have Hermione kill her now… Be that as it may, hope you enjoyed. I’ll be updating much sooner than last time (bows head in shame) and I didn’t forget about the ink on Ron’s face. Ya- it’s still there : D Believe it or not, it doesn’t really have any significance to the story, I just had a lot of jokes to go with that and thought I could use it to break up some tension. Don’t worry, ALL questions will be answered shortly- R&R much appreciated <3

A/N: Here’s the next chapter, right on schedule. Sorry for the cliffhanger, many of you expressed that you didn’t like it- but I got you to come back- (evil grin). I have a feeling you’re going to like this one…

“Ow…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there- or rather, the other way around- I didn’t mean to-“

“What’s this?” Hermione cut off her accuser, detangling her hand from a mess of wild curls as she reached for the mysterious object glinting on the floor.

“Well, I can’t see it,” came a sheepish reply from her left.

“Oh, I suppose not,” brown eyes twinkled as amusement filled her voice, delicately placing a thumb and forefinger around a pair of wired spectacles, lifting them to the candlelight for inspection. Hermione blew gently on the clouded lenses, blinking softly as the icy metal stung at her fingertips.

Gracefully winding her way to a sitting position, she scooted toward the visually impaired, creeping ever closer as the seconds passed. He closed his eyes in anticipation; heart thumping from beneath crumpled robes. Quivering hands lightly placed the golden rims behind his hears, adjusting them slightly before pushing them on to his nose.

Their breaths intermingled, lips centimeters from one another as vibrant green orbs burst on to the scene, greeted by hungry brown ones. Faces began to draw nearer, a beam of attraction beckoning Hermione like a wave to the shore. Steam seeped through his frames, a forest submerged in a fog under glass.

Lids closing in ecstasy, a spark of light was all that separated the pair from blessed union, the gap nearly breached when-

“OW!!!”

“Oh no, Harry! What happened, what-“

He jammed her hand away from his upper thigh, fighting the swaddled robes entangling his fist. Harry had Hermione’s wrist coiled beneath his fingers, jerking it between them to reveal the cause of pain. Clenched tightly within Hermione’s grasp was the forgotten ‘mystery object’- a large metal sewing needle he had dropped in the collision.

“Oh…” Hermione’s face exploded with color, cheeks bursting with rose blossoms as she shyly turned away. Long brown tresses obscured her blushing features, twisted locks shining in the glow of the crackling torches.

“’Salright,” Harry said warmly, trying to suppress a grimace as he tenderly massaged his throbbing wound.

“What is that?” Hermione asked suddenly, shaking chestnut tendrils away from furrowed brows, “Well, I know what it is, but why do you have one? And what are those?” she crinkled her nose at an odd-looking heap behind them, a tiny mountain of muddled fabrics sprawled along the ground, looming curiously in the distance.

It was Harry’s turn to blush, heat rising to his cheeks and burning from the inside, flames lapping deep within, “I, er…you see-“

Hermione scrambled to her feet and approached the mound of poorly knitted yarns, gently picking up what looked to be a baby’s jumper, holding it against her robes.

“Harry, what are these…”

Legs still spread on the ground, he refused to meet her gaze, face tinged with pink as he swallowed his fear, “Well, I- er, I was actually looking for you. See, uh, I was down in the kitchens with, er…Dobby and-“ his eyes continually flitted her direction as he stumbled for the right words. A trembling hand rubbed the patch of skin beneath his hairline, the scruff of his neck nearly as red as Ginny’s hair.

Hermione watched him with a soft expression, gazing intently at the eyes that floundered about the empty corridor. She studied the curve of his face, her eyes lingering on the dimple that flashed during certain words. She noticed his scar crinkled slightly when he lost himself in thought, wrinkling as he concentrated on formidably perplexing matters- like the situation at hand.

“And, er- we, well I was looking for the other elves to to…”

“Harry, are these garments for the house elves?” Hermione asked on tenterhooks, brown eyes sparkling as she clenched the tiny jumper in fists of hope.

“Well, yeah…I made them-“

Miniature sweater long forgotten, Hermione leapt across the barren hallway and into the arms of a startled Harry, toffee ringlets thrashing wildly as their mouths were forcefully pressed together. A wave of unbridled passion consumed the pair, hands roaming under robes in the depths of the gloomy passageway.

Tongues writhing, a moan escaped from Harry’s lips, Hermione’s nails digging into his flesh as she pushed their bodies closer together. Her hips grinded onto his, Harry thrusting underneath her skirt as he ripped open Hermione’s blouse, revealing panting breasts that longed for his gentle touch. Her passionate cry rang throughout the stony walls, eyes snapping open in fear of detection.

Harry slammed her against the solid partition, flicking his tongue about her ear as she banged her hands against the icy stone. Hermione’s fingers fumbled behind her, seeking the handle of the charms entrance. Frigid metal burning the inside of her palm, she twisted the doorknob and shoved her back into the heavy wood, darkness enveloping their bodies as they stumbled into the empty classroom.

Devoured by hidden shadows, secret lovers danced beneath a starless sky, two souls becoming one in a flood of endless pleasure. Robes crumpled by the doorframe, Harry wrenched Hermione’s knickers to her ankles, tossing her on the nearest desk with emerald eyes burning. She watched with growing impatience, her partner swallowed by the sanctioned night.

Then she felt it.

A shock of pure delight exuded her entire body, arousal swelling within her chest as Harry worked his magic. Writhing and flickering, he acquainted his tongue with every inch of her, warmth and wetness seeping from her womanhood as Harry caressed her inner thighs. She twisted her fingers in his hair, tufts of jet-black lost in the surrounding darkness.

Hermione gasped and clutched the sides of the desk, her back forming a graceful arc as curls of muted auburn whipped back in sudden rapture. Harry’s hands slowly crept across her stomach, porcelain velvet gliding beneath his fingertips. Legs rigid with unadulterated bliss, Hermione lolled her head against her shoulders, moaning and panting with every breath she took.

Harry stopped suddenly, brown eyes wildly searching the room for his presence, finally sensing the heat of his naked form. He drew closer to her body, Hermione’s hips swaying against the desk in a lustful swagger, rings of fire blazing in her eyes. He plunged into her sodden entrance, feeling the sleekness wrap around him as he released a groan of pure euphoria.

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione drawled, fingers intertwining in the softness of the curls that laid about her flushing features.

Harry’s hands encompassed her bended knees, gripping the firmness of her calves that flexed with uncontrollable passion. Green orbs met brown, barely visible in the blanket of shadow, faces contorting into expressions of utter bliss in the darkness.

“Oh God, Hermione, yes, yes, yes-“

They thrived on the motions of the other, no longer two bodies, but a symbol of utmost desire. With the flick of his hand, Hermione lost all control, liberating the fruits of pleasure from within. Harry shortly followed suit, spilling inside of her with wild animosity, shaking and gasping as the train came to a screeching halt.

Both gazing intently at the other, Harry lost himself in Hermione’s eyes, soaking in the beauty of the batting brown, completely mesmerized by her glowing form. She gave him a breathtaking smile, nearly stopping the heart that beat so fiercely just moments before. A delicate hand swept away a lock of untidy hair, lingering on the mark that plagued the man she loved.

Harry gently touched her hand and pulled it away, smiling at the woman he would gladly give his life for. Hermione buried her head in his neck, breathing in the scent of musk and birchwood, mingled with freshly cut grass and clean linens. He wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, holding her in the fabricated twilight as he played with her hair.

They stayed like that for some time, never wanting to tear apart, eyes closed in sheer contentment as they listened to the other’s beating heart. Time stood still as it did three years before, and all was right with the world.

For one fleeting moment.

A/N: I know I went all poetic at the end, but you lot don’t seem to like cliffhangers very much…so I thought I (along with Harry) would redeem myself. Wouldn’t it be wonderful just to end it here? No one cares about Ginny anyway, let’s just call it quits, shall we? Nah, it’s just getting to the good part. I’m afraid the cliffhangers aren’t over : ( But you’re safe for now…

At any rate, hope you liked this chapter- I DID! (tee hee) To answer any reviews I’m bound to get in advance, the charms corridor was empty, okay? So was the classroom, it just was- I don’t know why- I just needed an empty classroom and I picked that one. Just go with it, alright? Lol I know the odds of them just HAPPENING to stumble upon an empty classroom are unlikely, but if you think about it- a LOT of the shit that went down in canon was unlikely. Practically the whole series- ESPECIALLY R/Hr- wtf??? Sorry for the rant- just didn’t want to justify in reviews lol. But that shouldn’t stop you from leaving one! Thanks for reading, it’s not over yet!

<3 lilymione1203

P.S. – Justifications for this ‘charade’, if you will, will be in the next chapter. I know there are many questions concerning motives and current relationships, and trust me- I didn’t forget about them. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

A/N: I’m back! Pretty much the whole thing’s dialogue- ya, whole thing. Strange for me, right? But seeing as how there wasn’t hardly any last chapter…due to…other strenuous activities I guess I figured I’d make it up to you lol. Oh- and while I was writing this I listened to “Don’t Answer Me” by Alan Parsons Project. It just goes PERFECT with this chapter and if you want to you-tube it while you read it makes it more fun : ) Your choice, you don’t have to…just saying…

“Harry?”

“Mmmmm”

“Harry?”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing and everything. Why did you do that?”

“Er…which part…”

“No,” Hermione scowled, fighting a smile as pain wrenched in her heart, “Why were you making elf clothes?”

He hesitated before answering, “I did it for you, Hermione- well, and the elves. I’ll always have a soft spot for Dobby,” Harry grinned, eyes lost in a faraway memory, “but you don’t know how horrible I feel inside. I can’t stop thinking about the shower. It just felt so…so right.”

“So you made elf clothes?”

“No- you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he asked with a defeated sigh, turning her body to properly face him.

“Proceed,” was all she said, the corners of her mouth twitching as if to suppress a smirk.

“Ron and I have never really supported your spew efforts, Hermione, and I wanted to show you that I care about you. More than anyone-“

“More than Ginny?” she asked crossly, tension suddenly palpable in the abandoned classroom. Hermione shot him a pointed stare, fiery chocolate boring into startled green.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, unblinking eyes staring back at watered brown.

“Harry…” she said softly, whispering his name like an island breeze, “I don’t unders-“

“Just listen-“ he placed a finger to her lips, “I’ve always cared about you more than anyone else. More than my family, well that’s not hard to do, that was a bad example- more than Ron, more than myself, more than anyone. No one has ever cared about me like you have, Hermione. Especially not of the opposite sex…” he trailed off slowly, ruffling the back of his hair like his father so many years before.

“No girl has shown interest in me. Ever. Except for Ginny, when we were young. Any other bird that claims to be after me just wants to hang on my arm to gain status. That’s not a relationship- I don’t know what that is, but I don’t want it.”

“Harry, I-“

“I’m not finished,” he said sternly, not meeting her gaze, “I’ve fancied you for ages, Hermione, and yes- Ginny is an attractive girl- but she doesn’t hold a candle to you. I had no idea you felt this way about me. That morning in the boys’ loo, I thought I was dreaming. I have dreamt about that before.” Hermione blushed at this, holding a hand to her head as she tried to process all the information.

“I would’ve ditched Ginny right then and there, but I wanted something more meaningful than a quickie in the shower. I gave in to temptation, I cheated on my current girlfriend, and I broke your heart without even knowing it.”

“But-“

“I’m not done,” Harry interrupted, eyes fixated on the metal chalk tray that gleamed in the distance, the only source of light amidst the forbidden darkness, “I suppose I shouldn’t have listened to her, but Ginny kept telling me you and Ron were an item. It made some sort of sense in my mind; I tried to justify it with your…flirting…and the way you reacted to Lavender. Everyone I asked seemed to go along with it. No one but you was telling me you weren’t together. I didn’t know who to believe…”

“Believe me!”

“Well, I do-“

“But you didn’t,” Hermione finished hotly, the seams of her heart twinged with knowing agony. “Lumos,” she spat, tired of floundering around in perpetual nothingness.

“No, Hermione, hold on-“ Harry blinked a few times and grabbed her arms in his hands, forcing her eyes to meet his own, “It’s not like that. When have you ever lied to me? Of course I believed you when you told me- but if you’ll recall, I didn’t even ask until that day in the stairwell.”

The gears were turning behind fluttering lashes, Hermione focused on the tiled floor, “I suppose…”

“It was stupid of me not to ask earlier, but I dreaded the answer, Hermione, I really did. And if Ron made you happy, that’s all I ever wanted. I figured going with Ginny was better than ending up alone…”

“She told me to stay away from you,” Hermione said suddenly, pursing her lips as Ginny’s face swam into view.

“Well, I guess you failed at that,” Harry chuckled, Hermione’s death glare wiping the grin right off his face.

“It’s not funny, Harry,” she snapped, grabbing her shirt off the back of his chair, “We had…words…in the library,” she said curtly, slipping her hand through the armhole.

“You know, any time we were together she was always dragging my arse to the library? I mean, Merlin, she’s worse than…Neville,” Harry finished quickly, averting his eyes.

Hermione’s lids drooped considerably, “Why does everyone blame everything on Neville? Poor bloke doesn’t have any underwear and you and Ron pin everything under the sun on him.”

“Maybe I could knit him some knickers?” his face split into a wicked grin, the corners of his eyes crinkled with silent laughter.

“Harry, it’s a good thing you never found those house elves, cos those so-called ‘garments’ wouldn’t have done a naked anything any good.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, my talents lie in a broomstick rather than needle and thread,” he said with a smirk, eyes tilted over glinting frames.

“You’d make a good housewitch yet, sweeping’s a good start,” Hermione said without missing a beat, nose inches from the ground as she searched for her tie.

“Think you’re funny, do you?”

“I have my moments,” she tossed over her shoulder, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“Let’s hope you don’t have any more ‘moments’ with Ginny,” Harry said offhandedly, buttoning his trousers.

“You don’t even know what happened- and what about Ginny, Harry? Is what you told me the truth? Have you really fancied me for that long? What does this mean, Harry?” Hermione interrogated, eyes wild with questions as she searched his handsome features.

“Of course I meant what I said,” he answered gently, the playful banter pushed aside as tension mounted once again, “What do you mean?” he threw her a quizzical look, watching her face prod him for a response.

“What does this mean- for us?” Hermione asked quietly, emphasizing the latter two words as she met Harry’s gaze.

He studied her eyes, longing for him to tell her the words she’d fantasized a thousand times, over and over again in nights of dreamless sleep- darkness that went on forever. She twisted her skirt nervously between her fingers, biting a trembling lip as Harry searched for what to say.

Hermione’s stomach filled with butterflies, wings beating relentlessly against her diaphragm as palms glistened with sweat. Harry took a step toward her, biceps gleaming in the wandlight as shadows danced across his face. Breath ragged, she watched as he approached her, body consumed by a fire of trepidation- closing her eyes for fear of rejection.

She felt his hand caress her face, the gentle softness of his touch sending chills down her spine. His fingertips skated along the curve of her cheek, gently winding about her chin so as to cup her face, lightly pulling it towards him. Their eyes met in the synthetic twilight, languid blinks the only movement in the sudden stillness.

A tear slid down Hermione’s cheek, bottled with fear and anger- loneliness and heartbreak. Harry’s thumb gently wiped it away, green eyes piercing through faded glass.

“Don’t cry, love,” he cooed softly, taking her hand in his own, “I can’t stand to watch you cry.”

“Then, don’t answer me,” she whispered, fighting the streams of hidden sorrow that pricked at her eyes, longing for release.

“Are you sure?” he said leaning in to her, noses brushing as he swept past her cheek in the darkness.

Hermione’s body shook with apprehension, eyes closing as his lips touched her ear, “Do you really not want me to answer you? Don’t you want to know what this means?”

Her body tingled all over, skin set ablaze with want and yearning as his breath ticked her neck, “It means that I lo-“

“What the fuck is going on here!?” a voice bellowed from across the dim lit hideaway, carved mahogany shaking off its hinges as a quavering figure loomed in the doorframe- crumpled map in hand.

A/N: You know what, you all don’t like cliffhangers- so stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it HAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, that was mean- sorry about that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the banter and tenderness- a little fluff after some…thing else lol. Originally had the concept of this chapter and the next as one- but I expanded this one to add more H/Hr, which this fic was terribly lacking. So, more reading for you (yay!). I mean it really starts to unfold from here- and I’m very eager to continue writing it. I try to throw a little humor in all the chapters- I don’t like to be too angsty- but these next ones I dunno about…

Anyway, I hope I’ve got you hooked and I would love some more reviews : )

A/N: Alright everybody, here we go- hope you enjoy : )

Wild eyes burned a hole in the startled pair, half-naked and frozen in the flood of sudden light. Harry sported a mere pair of wrinkled trousers, messy hair even more windwept than usual, tufts of matted darkness like a jungle atop his head. Feet glued to the ground, his mouth gaped at the sight before him- green eyes wide with astonishment. Hermione was petrified, blouse unfastened to reveal her entire chest- knickers wadded meters from the doorway.

Heat consumed the figure’s body, a tiny fist coiled in seething rage around a trembling wand. Her smoldering form shook uncontrollably, locks of untamed crimson flowing at her sides. Orbs of melting chocolate filled with loathing and repugnance, searing into her target with slits of pure disgust.

“You conniving bitch,” Ginny spat, words dripping with venom as she glared at a cowering Hermione- eyes wide with fear in an attempt to cover her breasts. “What did I just tell you? LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE-“

Hexes were flying all over the place, desks smashing into the walls as Hermione scrambled out of the way, clutching her unbuttoned shirt with knuckles white as snow. Tiles crumbled from the ceiling as Ginny continued to relinquish her growing anger, firing curses with every passing breath.

“Worthless cock sucking ass humper!” she screeched, jets of thunder exploding from her wand, pointed directly at the undressed witch.

“Harry!” Hermione cried with helpless eyes, dodging a chair as it hurled toward the adjacent wall.

“What were you thinking?” Ginny roared, slashing her arm across her torso in wild animosity- wooden tables tumbling before her. “Ron not good enough for you? Had to steal someone else’s man? Damn filthy whore-“

Ruby sparks erupted from the tip of Ginny’s wand, missing Hermione by inches as she searched for her own, lost in the scuffle.

“You’re nothing but a backstabbing cunt,” she hissed with malicious eyes, closing in on a frantic Hermione with no wand in sight. Her eyes flitted about the room in a panic, terror enveloping her shivering form as Ginny raised her weapon to strike, triumph glinting in the fiery brown that sliced into Hermione’s soul.

“Bom-“

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Harry stood with eyes blazing, arm outstretched and pointing directly at the furious Weasley in his midst. Emerald gems gleamed in the light overhead, crackling embers fizzling in olive flames.

Ginny’s wand soared elsewhere, hidden among a heap of broken desks near the entrance. She stamped a foot to the ground and shot Harry a look of purest evil, scarlet tresses whipping out behind her. Harry returned a malevolent glare, fists clenched in rage as he watched Ginny’s shaking figure.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he asked in an icy tone, standing between the fuming redhead and the heated witch behind him, shooting daggers at Ginny as she clambered to her feet.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she sneered, narrowing her eyes that glinted like hardened steel.

“How did you even find us? How-“ Harry stopped mid-sentence, gaze falling on the crumpled parchment clutched in Ginny’s coiled fingers. “Where did you get that?” he asked incredulously, eyes widening in livid wonder.

“I borrowed it to find you, cheating on me,” she shot, not lowering her sultry stare- vixen eyes burning with unrequited malice.

“Harry, no- you showed her the map?” Hermione looked at Harry with pleading eyes, heart falling from her chest as she wished with all her being that it wasn’t true.

“It was early in the relationship, she needed to find someone-“

“It doesn’t matter how I got my hands on it,” Ginny snapped, bony fingers digging into her hips as she watched her betrayers through wicked eyes, “What matters is what’s going on here. You’re ruined, Granger,” she threatened, craning her neck over Harry’s commanding form to catch a glimpse of the glowering witch.

“I think it does matter how you ended up with it. Were you going through my things?” Harry demanded, his words icing over Ginny like a winter frost- stinging at her seething form.

“I couldn’t find you, so I borrowed it. I think cheating on me trumps just about anything else,” she jeered, smoothing out the wrinkles in the coveted map.

“Ginny, I-“

“No, Harry- you bastard,” her voice barely above a whisper, tears suddenly glistening down her flushing cheeks, “How could you? How could you do this to me- after all we’ve been through?” her expression softened from burning anger to helpless sorrow, Ginny’s rigid frame falling into poignant defeat.

“I trusted you, Harry- I’ve loved you for ages…” she said softly, gaze fixed on the tiles below, “It’s always been you, Harry- you and me, together always,” shimmering jewels of despair covered her freckled features, Harry fighting a tepid battle within himself.

Hermione watched in candid horror, frozen behind her valiant protector as Ginny’s eyes met his, tears raining from her batting lashes. She slowly began walking toward him, drawn to Harry like a magnet among the clattered desks.

“Harry, don’t throw away what we have- think of our future, think of the big family you’ve never had- a wizarding family, Harry,” Ginny’s hips swayed like a tree in the breeze, creeping closer to her target with every word. “You saved my life, Harry. You’re my hero- you saved me from the Chamber of Secrets, remember? If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is…

“We’re destined for greatness, Harry- you and I. A love like ours can’t be found anywhere else. It breaks my heart to see you with her- how do you think this makes me feel?”

Guilt panged in Harry’s chest, heart racing as a wince plagued his visage, rooted to the spot while Ginny continued her quest, “I’ve loved you since before I even met you, and I come in to find this?” she sobbed, less than a meter away from an aching Harry.

“Why, Harry? Why…” she cooed, now inches from his shirtless body, eyeing his muscled abs that struck a fire in her chocolate orbs.

Silence swallowed the threesome, an intangible pressure seeping its way into the room. Hermione couldn’t move, frozen with fear and heartache, anger swelling in her chest and coursing through her veins- forced to watch the train wreck unfolding right in front of her.

Noses nearly brushing, Ginny was inches from Harry’s lips, rising on the balls of her feet as if in slow motion. “I forgive you, Harry…” she whispered, rapidly closing the gap between the two- ginger tresses bouncing softly along her back as she glided the ascent to Harry’s mouth.

Hermione tried to scream, jaw thudding on the floor with eyes glued to the horrendous scene before her- a statue molded with terrifying anguish as her darkest nightmare came to life. Ginny was centimeters from his tranquil entrance, looming closer and closer as her breath warmed his lips, a fraction of light away when-

BOOM!

“Ginny’s shagging Draco Malfoy!” Ron shouted from the doorway, doubling over in the entrance to catch his breath as a deathly silence filled the classroom.

A/N: What!!??! Lol The conflict is LONG from over- you just got a taste. I know that was a short chapter, but this one had to stand on its own for obvious reasons (if it’s not apparent now, it will be in the future). Many of you saw this coming- but I imagine there might be a few questions still burning in your brains. You might not think Hermione really gave Ginny what we all know she deserves, but just keep your pants on alright? Don’t pull a Ron…

A/N: YOU ARE GOING TO BE CONFUSED. The name of this chapter (with the current rhythm of the fic) implies that it is about something else, which is kind of creepy and ironic lol. I’m just gonna tell you right now, read this with an open mind and things will fall into place. It’s not going to get WEIRD or anything, but this doesn’t pick up with Ron in the doorway. Yet. Happy reading…

Flowing locks of shining scarlet brushed the curve of her back, swaying with every step she took behind the littered shelves. She spotted him in his usual corner, where she found him every day, sporting that cunning smile that suited him so well. Fingers laced behind his head, he propped back in his chair, condescending laughter spurting from his icy lips. Sleekest blond illumined his pointed face, eyes of glinting steel crinkling at another’s misfortune. She never thought a creature more beautiful.

Sitting down at the table directly across from him, as was routine, she pulled out a battered copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and buried herself beneath it, brown eyes hovering above the glossy jacket as they continually flitted his direction.

Surrounded by an unruly party, the boy reveled in the spotlight- soaking in the pure delight of being the center of attention. One by one, the pompous crowd eventually dispersed, leaving their king alone in his empty court.

The girl with flickering eyes abruptly glued them to her pages, heart beating ferociously beneath a scarcely buttoned blouse. Breathing uneven, she clenched the tattered edges, not noticing a steely gaze fall upon her lonely form. He stood up swiftly from his table, eyes fixed on her plunging neckline as he basked his fiery prey.

“I didn’t know Weasleys could read,” he said with hands perched on the table’s surface, lips curling into a sneer.

“I can do a lot of things that would surprise you,” she said quietly, fighting her eyes to remain on the quivering text.

“Is that so…” he drawled, leaning over the wooden barrier as eyes of silver sparked with interest.

Ginny could feel Draco’s eyes lingering on her taunting chest, hungry steel soaking in the curve of her supple breasts. She chanced a look at his domineering physique, innocent brown locked with wanting gray.

He loosened his tie, tugging at the emerald knot that constricted his heavy breathing- revealing a flush that creeped its way across his pale complexion, “Things with Thomas not work out for you? I can see why you wouldn’t be interested in a mudblood artist- parents probably worked for sickles on the street, but I guess that would still be making your way up in society, now wouldn’t it?”

A wicked smirk spread across his pallid features, strands of flaxen shining in the light from overhead. Ginny stood her ground, a placid expression donning her face as she stared at the boy of her affections, gently picking up her feathered quill between two dainty fingers.

“If I’m so beneath you, Malfoy, why did you even come over here to talk to me? I figure mere association with someone such as myself would earn you a spanking from your mother,” she said coolly, raising her brows in expectancy as the pair continued to stare each other down.

“I suppose I could do with a good spanking, Weasley- but it certainly wouldn’t be from my mother…” Draco replied, leaning closer to Ginny with rings of burning charcoal, his breath like ice upon her neck, “And you’re not beneath me yet,” he whispered, fingers coiling around her tiny wrist.

Ginny’s eyes widened with excitement as he drew nearer, lightly brushing the plume of her quill along a blushing cheek. She outlined the curve of her face, blinking slowly as the feather danced along her neckline- Draco’s eyes following every movement as she teased her freckled features.

Soft edges tracing an elegant collarbone, the quill gracefully plummeted toward her boasting cleavage, hovering above inviting breasts. Ginny bit her lip, sultry stare in place as she captured his full attention. He longed to wrap his hands around her perky figure, mesmerized by its forbidden beauty.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?” her husky voice mocked Draco’s goggling eyes, flames lapping at the chocolate orbs that burned into his own. Fiery needles pricked at the site of his roaming fingers, massaging the delicate skin that covered her petite wrist.

“I’m a man of power, that knows what he wants,” Draco schmoozed, looming over her in a dominating manner so as to gain the upper hand, “and I wouldn’t mind getting into you,” fire danced in his eyes as they devoured every inch of her, soaking in the shimmering porcelain that longed to be caressed.

“Then take me,” she breathed, on the verge of panting for the heat that rose inside her body.

Lightning flashed behind a veil of pearly gray, Draco latching on to Ginny’s arm as she leaned in to taste him. She squeaked with surprise at his forceful grip, yanking her out of the heavy chair as curly tendrils whipped in all directions, a strawberry fan of silken velvet. He dragged her down a random aisle of ancient textbooks, the smell of rotting parchment tainting the startled witch’s nose.

“Dra-“

“Not here,” he hissed, winding his way through the library with a baffled Ginny in tow.

They rounded the end of another bookcase, not a soul in sight as they fled to the ‘mystery location,’ Ginny’s wrist cramping from the pressure exerted on it. Draco screeched to a halt when they came upon a fluttering curtain, sparkling satin rippling in an unknown breeze. He took out his wand from a backpocket, twirling it gently in his fingers as he searched the wall beside the wavering material.

Ginny watched him curiously, arching a slender brow as he worked, tracing the stone with the tip of his wand. He muttered something inaudible, Ginny straining to hear it through the eerie silence. She set her gaze on the curtain, listening intently to her puzzling companion, when suddenly the satin froze, sparkling caramel morphing into onyx.

The now black curtain billowed fiercely, wind whipping Ginny’s astonished features as her hair lapped at her face, brown eyes bulging at the sudden transformation. Dying down, the material soon hung loosely about the entrance into uncharted waters, an ominous gleam radiating beneath the wall of darkness.

The corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk, Draco turned to Ginny’s bewildered form, pressing a finger to her lips as she opened her mouth to speak, “A descendant of the most ancient and noble house of Black has its advantages,” he said with gray eyes glinting, Ginny’s heart melting as he ushered her inside.

The room, which Ginny thought to be part of the restricted section, was now a different scene altogether. Flickering candles lined the stony walls, the pair consumed by growing darkness as they smoldered to an end. With a flick of his wand, two tapers burst with ghostly orange, emitting a sinister glow worthy of Voldemort himself.

Strange and peculiar artifacts were displayed on ornamental tables, dark objects from an ancient past looming in every corner. Ginny absorbed her terrifying surroundings, breath suddenly visible in the dampness of the air. Draco watched her with hungry eyes, a servant of the night ready to feast upon his victim.

He led her to an armchair, blood red and shining in the candlelight. Draco sat himself upon it, curling his hands about the padded arms as he shot Ginny a demented glare.

“Dance for me,” he commanded in a whisper, not lifting his gaze from her startled frame.

Eyes wide with uncertainty, Ginny immediately obeyed, wanting more than anything to please the man before her, hoping to gain access to his cruel and guarded heart. She locked her gaze with his, dainty fingers fiddling languidly with her buttons, feeling the smoothness of each polished surface as she descended her budding blouse.

Draco stared at his captive with baited breath, arousal rapidly welling within him, trying with all his might to restrain himself from lunging out of the chair. Ginny’s shirt slithered to the floor, dancing around her ankles as she swayed her hips to a soundless beat. She lolled her head about her shoulders, a small moan escaping her lips as a hand glided down her abdomen.

Lifting a shoulder, a slender strap flopped across her biceps, the other shortly following suit. She pressed her arms together, cleavage glistening in the glow of flickering light, strips of patterned lace all that separated Draco from viewing her luscious breasts. Ginny ran her tongue across pouty lips, slowly tracing the delicious curve of her wanting mouth. Without warning, the lacey barrier tumbled to the ground- her torso completely exposed and free for the taking.

Draco nearly lost all control, fingernails digging into the glossy leather as he took in her womanly physique, nipples hardening in the chill of the icy room. Ginny covered her breasts with her hands, kneading them in delicate fingers as her head snapped back in ecstasy. Trousers tightening around his pulsing member, Draco gasped for breath, unable to tear his eyes away from her breathtaking performance.

Ginny crept closer to yearning hips, starving for attention. A fire was set ablaze in Draco’s shaking form, enveloping his body with a burning desire for her touch. Inches from quivering knees, Ginny unfastened her cotton skirt, pleats fanning out in sexual splendor as the plaid crumpled gracefully to the floor.

She placed a hand to the hem of his ironed trousers, bulging at the seams as her fingers danced upon it. Flicking the metal clasp with her thumb, she released the object that she craved, running her fingertips across the unveiled flesh.

Draco groaned with pleasure, losing out to temptation as he tore off her satin knickers, jamming Ginny onto his appendage with all his might. She screamed in pain mixed with pleasure, feeling him thrust inside of her as heat encompassed her writhing body. He clenched his hands around her tiny waist and continually pulled her closer to him, panting as he felt a sodden tightness close around him.

Ginny’s feet found the floor and pressed firmly against the frigid surface, gaining leverage to support her atop Draco’s bucking thighs. Gripping his broadened shoulders, Ginny dug her nails into his collar, crashing her mouth onto his as relented gratification escalated within them. She propelled against him, rocking back and forth as he did the same, moans and sighs released in unison as satisfaction was obtained.

Liquid passion finally set free, the thrusting came to a close, both parties breathing heavily in mystic shadows. Their eyes locked once again, rich mahogany immersed in sparkling silver. Neither spoke for several moments, an awkward silence filling the void between them in the room of untold secrets.

“We can’t tell anybody.”

A/N: Hmmmm…this sounds so familiar…where have I heard that line before…? LOL!! Perhaps these pairings aren’t so different after all, with the tiny exception of one being evil. So, I imagine you might have a question or two. Maybe. If that. (grins wickedly accompanied by an evil smirk) This ‘sequence’, if you will, had to be broken down into two parts to coerce with the rest of the fic. And it’s more fun this way : ) This is just PART I of the sequence, I repeat- it does NOT end here.

This is NOT turning into a D/G- I promise. However- it is critical for the plot so I threw in some graphic imagery (on the house). No, it’s not H/Hr smut- but D/G fics are the second-highest ship on the site, and I’ve never tried my hand at them. I know no one really cares about Ginny and Draco and you’re really not going to like them in the next chapter (hint, hint), but here you are. I’m pretty sure the only character a majority of reviewers like (besides Ron/Neville) is Hermione- and you were disappointed with her dueling performance. I can’t please everyone- and she’s not done being angry, that wand can’t stay lost forever…

I find it odd that when I portray the characters as, well- I guess more NORMAL people- reviewers get angry and don’t like them (not all, but some)- for example, I, personally, thought it would be unrealistic (and plot-ruining) for Harry to tell Ginny, “get the fuck out, quite frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” If you like that sort of thing, read Gone with the Wind. I’m not saying that wouldn’t have been AWESOME, but Harry is a bit more sensitive in this fic- I guess it is my fault for not portraying that well enough. I suppose I could have posted one chapter that said: “Harry and Hermione fucked in a classroom, Ginny came and tried to hurt Hermoine- who pulled a shotgun on her ass and blew her brains out while Harry spit on the blood oozing out of her skull. They transfigured her body into a handicapped rabbit and threw it out the window, only for it to be eaten by Fluffy who somehow escaped his enclosure. They shagged three more times before deciding to get married by the hand of Dumbledore, who brought Harry’s parents back to life with ancient magic so they could be present at the ceremony. Ron became the freakin’ Minister of Magic and they all lived happily ever after in the Burrow- now made of solid gold The end. PS- Draco’s gay.” Would that better suit your taste???

(not to all of you, but I’m sure for some…)

This story IS portkey compliant, Hermione WILL redeem her dueling skills, and Harry is NOT a total asshole. Sorry, if you think so- but I don’t : (

I know this author’s note was LONG and probably quite painful, but I’m a little aggravated (in case you couldn’t tell) with a few VERY PICKY reviews lol. I do appreciate all the WONDERFUL reviews I have received, and absolutely adore my faithful readers with positive or constructive criticisms and encouragement. That means so much to me, you’ve no idea. I know this fic and its author are by no means perfect, but I’m trying- okay? If you don’t like the fic or where it’s going just stop reading it, and if you do think it’s passable please tell me so. Again, sorry for the meltdown, my sincerest apologies.

Love always,

lilymoine1203

A/N: Alright ladies and gents, here it is- the coveted eleventh chapter. Spooky title, no? lol This is THE PINNACLE of the fic, the moment I’ve been itching to tell you for quite some time. Not to build you up and let you down of course…hope you enjoy it. I know you’re not crazy about D/G, but this is very necessary to go through. Unless you’d like to be confused of course. As always, happy reading…

“Why the hell not??”

“Surely you realized this was just a temporary thing-“

“What the fuck!?”

“Honestly, this couldn’t have gone on forever, we’ll always have the library-“

“So, you just give in to temptation and that’s it? Not good enough for a second go?”

“Well, I didn’t say that…”

“Then what’s the fucking problem?!?”

“It’s simply bad business, Weasley; I can’t be seen traipsing around the halls of Hogwarts with an underprivileged bloodtraitor on my arm, now can I?”

The heat rose to Ginny’s cheeks in an instant, a wave of anger crashing over her uncovered form, “I can’t believe this! So it meant nothing to you?” she spat, snatching her sodden knickers from the floor.

Draco arched a brow, lips pursed in amusement, “Wow, Weasley, I didn’t know you cared.”

“My name is Ginny,” she said hotly, words spurring from her mouth like poison, oozing toxins into the air as it rang throughout the dampened walls.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Really? Never would have guessed. Anyway, it’s nothing personal- I do have a girlfriend.”

“That dismal excuse for a human being, Parkinson? Merlin, Draco, she’s slept with the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team- yeah, she’s much more respectable than I am. Filthy whore,” Ginny muttered under her breath, grabbing every article of clothing she could find in the eerie darkness.

“Tough break, love,” Draco shot, trying to conceal the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, what if Pansy were to mysteriously disappear?”

“Haha, you planning on knocking her off, Weasley? Perhaps your bloodlines aren’t as tainted as they seem…in a mental sense,” he mused, a steely fire sparked beneath an iron curtain.

“She’s horrible, Draco- a fucking cow compared to me!” Ginny cried, upturned palm gliding against a naked hip, indicating her slender frame, “Why can’t this work? I’ll do anything…” her expression softened, words barely above a whisper as poignant brown pleaded for an answer. She searched his pointed face, hidden by shadows in the flickering light of their hidden chamber. Ginny approached him carefully, breath frozen in her chest as tender steps echoed in the twilight.

“Weasley, I’ve got much more pressing matters on my mind than whose got more of a right to shag me,” he said with a snort, straightening his tie as he grinned, “You’ve no idea what you’re dealing with, and I’d advise you to cover yourself up and move on with your life, as sad and disappointing as it may be.”

Pain struck arrows within her heart, every syllable stabbing at her insides with unrequited vigor, “But why? I don’t understand…” she whimpered, cowering before him in a world of broken dreams.

“There’s some things you’re just not meant to understand!” Draco bellowed, fists clenched in anger as fire burned in his eyes, turning his back to Ginny so as to stare at the billowing curtain.

“Draco, I can help you, I’ll do anything-“

“No! That’s the last thing I need, another Gryffindor hot on my trail, every waking moment following me around the bloody castle…” his head snapped up at attention, eyes wide with realization as he whipped around to a startled Ginny, lips twisting into an evil sneer as his gaze fell upon the frightened redhead.

“Wha- what is it?” she squeaked, fiddling nervously with the wadded blouse she held between her fingers.

“Potter…”

“What about him?” Ginny asked in a timid voice, brows crinkling in curiosity.

“Weren’t you the one that sent him a singing valentine? Chased him around the corridors for a week?”

Her cheeks flushed crimson, embarrassed by past infatuation and forgotten longing, “That was years ago, I barely even remember that-“

“But it was you, wasn’t it?” he asked in a forceful tone, gray eyes glinting as his smile broadened across pallid features.

“Well, yes…” she reluctantly admitted, settling her gaze upon the stony floor.

“Fantastic,” he breathed, smacking his hands together, “I believe we can work out some sort of an arrangement after all, Weasley,” he drawled, eyeing her with orbs of twinkling silver.

Ginny nodded her head with a hint of fearfulness, excited at the prospect but terrified at the look in his eyes.

“Potter got a girlfriend? Fancy anyone?”

“Well, erm- I think maybe Hermione but I don’t really know…”

“Ah, the all-knowing mudblood with poor grooming habits, how touching,” he mocked, face littered with elements of distaste.

Ginny’s eyes flitted about the room in a panic, afraid she may be losing her chance,“She might like my brother, though, I’m not sure. No one’s really dating out of that group-“

“Excellent! He’s single then. Well, not for long…” Draco trailed off, flames of wickedness dancing in his eyes as they captured Ginny’s, drawing closer to her quivering form, “Date him.”

Ginny gasped and dropped the crumpled wad she held in her hands, falling to the floor along with her jaw, “Why?”

“I need you to keep him busy for me. Out of my hair for a while,” he reasoned, running a hand through the shining locks that molded to his crown.

“But why? What is he doing? Can’t we just keep our love a secret?”

“’Our love,’” he snorted, propping a leg onto the leather armchair as he swiftly zipped his trousers, “I would hardly call it that, but whatever,” he quipped, raising his eyes to the darkened ceiling. “Anyway- quite frankly, Weasley, I don’t think you can be trusted. How do I know you won’t go running off to Potty and the Weasel with anything I let you in on? Spilling my secrets to that nosy know-it-all all hours of the night?”

“But I wouldn’t! I-“

“Yes, but I don’t know that. Tell you what, Weasley, you get Potter to fall in love with you- start dating in public and such- and I’ll continue seeing you on the sidelines. Do we have a deal?”

“Go out with Harry? But I haven’t fancied him for ages, it’s always been you…” she confessed, biting her lip as she avoided his gaze, the concept of playing Harry swirling in her mind like powdered snow on Christmas Eve.

“That wrenches my heart, Weasley- I never would have thought,” Draco jeered, holding back the sinful laughter that longed to be released, “Alright, I’ll do one better, Ginny,” he called, her heart fluttering profusely as the name rolled off his tongue, “Steal Potter’s heart and smash it into a thousand pieces. Go out with him for however long it takes, making sure he falls head over heels, then break up with him. Tear his heart out in front of the entire castle. That’s how I’ll know that you’ll be loyal to me. As long as you keep up the ‘dating charade’ we can meet and continue our forbidden rendezvous. And when you break it off, I will publicly declare my liking for you,” he finished, steely gaze boring into Ginny with the force of a jackhammer.

“What about Pansy?” she asked suddenly, head still shuffling the cards she had been dealt.

“Gone. Who cares about her anyway? Like you said, she is a whore-ish cow,” Draco confirmed, biting his tongue behind a furtive mask.

Ginny smiled at this, rings of russet shining darkly in the amber glow, “So, if I date Harry and break up with him, you promise to pledge your love for me in front of everyone? And we can be seen together in public?”

“I solemnly swear,” he said in the gravest of tones, standing inches away from his captive as his smile slowly returned, “but you have to make sure he only has eyes for you, now. Heartbreak isn’t as effective if you’re fancying someone else. Granger had better be after you’re idiot of a brother, otherwise you have quite a daunting task,” Draco warned with a hint of amusement, grin properly in place.

“Consider it done,” Ginny said with delight, beams of sunlight radiating from within as she soaked in the sinister darkness, locking eyes with Draco as he brushed a hand along her shoulder.

“Then let’s celebrate,” he silently declared, breathing into her neck as knickers once again crumpled to the floor, burning candles in the distance smoldering to a close.

A/N: Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuun!!! LOL Whoda thunk it? Well, it all goes downhill from here I can assure you. This WAS their first meeting, which you might have been confused about before, and I can tell you that Ginny hasn’t been shagging random co-eds in the corridors. Some of you thought Justin Finch-Fletchley might have had some significance in the library, but the only reason I used him was because he was muggleborn, and a pureblood (and probably halfblood) wouldn’t know who Hitler was (just like Ron) and I really wanted to throw that joke in there. It was such a good red herring I HATED to ruin it in review explanations, but now you know : ) At any rate, hope you liked this one, next chapter will pick up where 9 left off- there just possibly might be some tension in there. Perhaps. Just a trifle. I can’t see why anyone would be angry… Lol! Anyway, there you have it. The mystery has ‘somewhat’ been solved. But surely you’ll stick around for the aftermath? Where DID Hermione’s wand get off to? It’s not like she’ll be needing it….R&R if you please!!

A/N: I know. I know. It has been entirely too long. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those authors that waited an eternity and a half to update a chapter. And this was the story that’s gotten the most attention I’ve ever received, too! **sigh** Anyway, I’d like to formally apologize for the wait and hope that this was worth it. I will probably be writing more frequently because school has started once again. I find when I shouldn’t have the time, I write more. Does that make sense? Probably not. My boyfriend is not home very often, and I find I don’t really need fanfiction when he’s around. But writing it keeps me busy and not pining for him, so to speak. So you lot probably like it when he’s away : ) At any rate, if I haven’t completely lost my audience I would love to continue this story. I promise to finish it soon. I know I’ve ‘promised’ before but this time I mean it.

So, here’s what’s going on. Flashback is over (most of you didn’t care for it, but I got good Draco reviews [thumb up!]). This picks up with Ron in the doorway. Several more chapters to go after this one, but not many. The end is near! Lol Hope you enjoy, please review!

It was as if the room was stuffed in a bottle, tension mounting around the ‘wooden ship’ that dared not touch its glassy edges- an invisible force that pressed against the unsuspecting boundaries holding them captive. Only ragged breathing could be heard from the estranged party; three sets of eyes widened in various degrees of horror as the fourth pair searched the floor, not looking for something in particular, but rather away from everything else.

The story came from her own blossoming lips, the venom slipping from her tongue with each passing word. As the tale came to a horrifying close, the littlest Weasley stood alone on her pedestal, head hung with the embarrassment of her monstrous charade. The toes of her shoes repeatedly scuffed a blackened tile, one pointing toward the other as they held her weary gaze.

Ron trembled in the doorway, arm outstretched and pointing as the strip of willow quivered in his fingers. White knuckles clenched the wand that wavered in his hand, prodding the truth to stumble forward from his sister’s tight-lipped mouth. However, no magic was required for the redhead’s eye-opening reveal; all information was provided of its own accord. One piercing look from a pair of baby blues was all it took for her to spill- shock, anger, disappointment, sadness, and doubt filled the pleading glare that Ron shot at Ginny, but no emotion was so powerful as guilt.

A silent “why” flickered across Ron’s astonished features, breaking all of Ginny’s barriers that allowed her to carry out the deeds. Family bonds are hard to break, and Ginny learned the hard way that turning her back against the ones she loved would always come back to haunt her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but in the end it always will. And in the center of the desolate charms corridor, surrounded by rubble and the ones she deemed near, Ginny found her comeuppance.

Harry stood motionless in the back corner, wand limp and mouth agape as the last few weeks blurred across his vision. He felt a fool, standing on a lonely island of tepid lies and deceit. He had been played, fighting his instincts for the girl he truly loved against hurting the feelings of a girl he thought to truly love him. How blind he had been to the obvious- with Malfoy and Horcruxes and Dumbledore and Hermione and Ginny and Quidditch and everything else on his mind, he couldn’t see his relationship for what it truly was. And now it was laid out for him in perfect little pieces- disgusting, horrible pieces that locked together in a perfect grid of deception.

Behind him, a wave of heat surged into the open, radiating from slender hands balled into trembling fists. Jaw clenched in unrequited anger, Hermione bore holes into Harry’s back, which obscured her view of the crimson traitor. Fire gleamed in her eyes, a burning desire welling in her chest and spreading throughout her body. Needles pricked at her skin, scorching every fiber of her being with a dominating force.

In two steps she was under Harry’s arm and flinging it behind her, snatching his wand in the process as it lay drooped at his side. Hermione marched with the gods of thunder rumbling in her wake, streaks of lightning flowing through her wild chestnut hair.

“YOU SELFISH BITCH!” she roared, slashing Harry’s wand across her chest and sending Ginny flying. “Do you realize what you’ve DONE?”

The startled redhead hurtled toward a cluster of desks, robes billowing out in all directions as she smashed into the wooden tables.

“What a filthy hypocrite! YOU STUPID WHORE!” Hermione bellowed, Ginny scrambling for her wand which was now with her opponent’s- lost among the ruins.

“You try to make Harry feel bad so you can uphold your end of some twisted bargain to shag MALFOY, of all people,” she growled with a roll of her eyes, a look of contempt donning her face as she towered over a shivering Ginny.

“You’re such a bloody IDIOT. Malfoy is evil! BLOODY. FUCKING. EVIL,” she cried as Ron and Harry watched in horror, frozen with fear as sparks erupted from the captured wand.

“He’s USING you, Ginny. How the hell can you not see that? You have hurt all the people around you with the preposterous decisions that you have made! You not only make yourself look like a worthless slut but you are endangering the entire wizarding world with whatever he’s not telling you! And, UGH, all that WORTHLESS shit in the library!” a stamp of her foot and the flick of her wand sent the young witch soaring toward the chalkboard, plastering her to the wall of matted green- feet hovering inches above the floor.

Hand raised like a cobra, waiting to strike, Hermione’s eyes narrowed into the smallest of slits, her temper wrapping around her seething form and itching to take control. Ginny’s mouth was set in a thin line, her eyes refusing to meet her predator’s gaze as she continually clenched her fingers against her palms, wrists glued to the chalkboard.

“Hermione, wait!” All heads whipped to the door to find a startled Ron, who was just as surprised as the others to find that he was the one who spoke. “Er…let’s not do anything rash…she’s still my sister…” he finished awkwardly, rubbing the patch of skin on the back of his neck as his eyes darted about the room.

Hermione released all the air in her lungs, deflating her dominating presence and regaining control over her ravenous composure. Still staring daggers at Ginny, she took a step back and pursed her lips, prodding Ron to continue his reasoning as to why she shouldn’t tear the little weasel to shreds.

“Hermione, be reasonable, you can’t kill her. Not at Hogwarts at least…” Ron mused with a shrug, stealing glances at Ginny’s almost grateful expression as her legs continued to dangle in midair.

“Ron, how did you even come across this information? How did you know Ginny was…Ginny was…” Hermione floundered for the words, pressing her lids closed as she gritted her teeth in resentment.

Ginny made a face that was not quite readable to the room’s other occupants, sending Hermione’s blood boiling. After the conclusion of her insightful narrative, it was understood that she would no longer divulge any other information that could possibly put her in harm’s way. Especially by the hand of Hermione Granger.

“Well…” Ron’s face flushed a brilliant shade of red, his whole head resembling that of a turnip, “I followed Ginny after you left the library.” His eyes flitted briefly toward Hermione’s captive, “Actually, I followed Pansy.”

“WHAT!?” Ginny shrieked as if in pain, the back of her head smacking into wall with a deafening ‘thwack.’

“I…I…saw Pansy head the same way you took off earlier, and followed her to the other end of the library. I’ve never been back there before,” he added sheepishly, earning a much deserved eye roll from Hermione. “She was turning corners so fast, I could barely keep up, and people kept snickering at me- I thought I forgot to put pants on or something,” Ron confessed, suddenly a dark look in his eyes as his gaze met Hermione’s, his face completely void of any trace of ink.

Fighting a smile and her curiosity, she waved Ron to keep going, ignoring the disgruntled huffs from the chalkboard.

“Pansy saw Ginny come out of the black curtain and she stopped dead in the aisle- I nearly crashed into her cos, well, let’s face it, it’s not very hard to miss a gal like Pansy. Anyway, I froze, too, and saw Ginny buttoning her shirt and Malfoy slap…slap…” Ron shuddered as he tried not to think about what he (and Pansy) had seen, doing a poor job of blocking the image seared into his brain. Hermione pieced it together rather quickly and wrinkled her nose in distaste. Malfoy had given Ron’s sister a quick spanking for her trouble.

“So then what happened?” Hermione goaded, using the kindest voice she could muster under the intense anger she felt at the moment.

“Er, right. So, Malfoy set a stunner on us both, Parkinson ended up on the other aisle but I was in plain view. I guess Ginny never saw her…”

Tears streaked down her face as Ginny listened to Ron’s account, brown eyes lost and far away. Malfoy’s promises were empty; he shouldn’t have spaced his ‘appointments’ so close together.

“Continue,” Hermione quipped, not feeling the least bit sorry for the sobbing witch beside her.

“Well, Ginny took off toward the exit- I guess looking for you or Harry- and left Malfoy to handle what I had discovered. Or, partially discovered,” he finished in a sinister tone, staring through Hermione as his jaw stiffened.

“He told me they were just having a bit of fun, and that it meant nothing, and I shouldn’t get my knickers in a twist,” he added with a grimace, his flush slowly returning as it creeped from under his collar. “Oh, and he asked me if the giant squid enjoyed her ‘afternoon delight.’ He could tell because it was ‘all over my face,’” Ron scowled, causing Hermione’s mouth to spring into a perfect ‘o.’

“Oh, Ron…”

“ANYWAY,” Ron trudged on, letting Hermione know that she was eventually going to suffer for her silence, “Malfoy left me against the barren aisle while he tended to Parkinson, I assume, and Finch-Fletchley just happened to come that way and rescue me. Said he felt bad about the ‘Hifler’ remark or whatever and removed my tattoos,” he said in a bitter tone, staring just above Hermione’s line of sight.

“I figured Ginny was cheating on Harry, but I had no idea it had come to this,” Ron finally spat, a look of incredulity passing his face as he forced himself to look at a miserable Ginny.

Hermione’s thoughts turned to the wizard frozen in the background, soaking it all in like a sponge. Face hardened like molten steel, he glared at Ginny with a fiery intensity, catching Hermione off-guard.

“Harry, are you alright?” she asked softly, slightly arching a brow as worry clouded her expression.

Tremors of rage quavered his muscled chest, anger flooding through his veins with every beat of his heart, “Malfoy’s dead.”

A/N: Just a tiny cliffhanger. I remember how you all like those : ) Mr. Malfoy may make a reappearance next chapter. You never know…review if you please!

Lilymione1203

Okay, scratch everything you know about “Sectumsempra” except for the very end- H/G’s first kiss. This chapter is in two segments- basically because the point of view is split up. I am attempting to make this fit back into original HBP with a slight detour lol. Some of the details and motives have changed from original HBP, but it should tie in by the last chapter. Anyway, happy reading!

A torrential storm was brewing beneath golden frames, fogging the glass that guarded the world from sparkling jade. Harry bolted from his rooted stance and tore across the silent room, snatching Ron’s wand from trembling fingers. The charms door slammed to a close, the smack of wood against the metal ringing in the ears of those left behind.

“Can’t everyone just keep their own bloody wands?” Ron shouted at the exit, face drooping slightly at the sight of closed partition. Clearly his message would not reach its recipient.

A smirk tugged at Hermione’s lips as she straightened her uniform, the only clothing that could be found after the passion that occurred what seemed like an eternity before. Plaid skirt in place and every button through its hole, she tore off after Harry and left Ginny dangling by an invisible thread- Ron stopping her in her tracks with the arch of a brow.

“What now, Ronald?” Hermione asked in a huff, lids heavy with impatience as her foot tapped the ground.

“You can’t just leave…her here!” he said with distaste, gesturing broadly to a murderous-looking Ginny.

“We’ve got to help Harry, or at any rate see what he’s going to do with Malfoy. I’d like to at least pick up the pieces…” Hermione trailed off with a sneer.

“Do you honestly believe Ginny can be trusted here alone? Don’t you think somebody ought to stay he-“ SMACK.

But he didn’t get a chance to finish. As he turned to make his leave, Ron’s face had a close encounter with the freshly closed door. A very close encounter.

“Oooooh,” Hermione hissed, her button nose crinkled in an unpleasing scrunch.

“I can’t feel my face! Is it still there? I’m blind as a ruddy bat,” Ron wallowed, running his hands over his freckles as if trying to find them.

“Here-“ Hermione thrust the door open with the palm of her hand and shoved Ron into the icy corridor, tawny tendrils whipping about her face as she checked to see if the coast was clear, “You stay out here and watch for me and I’ll be out momentarily. I’ll take care of everything,” she said with a grin, that familiar gleam returning to her orbs of blazing brown.

“But I can’t even see-“ click.

She could feel the solid oak beneath her fingertips, rough and cool as her back pressed against the door. Hermione eyed Ginny with utmost distaste, twirling Harry’s wand between long, slender fingers. The redhead refused to meet her gaze, pointed chin quivering with detained rage. Hermione rounded on her prisoner, circling the chalkboard with the slink of a cat as memories of their previous encounter came flooding back to her mind.

But before she could spring, Ginny suddenly broke the silence-

“I don’t care what you think of me. I would have never in a million years told you my secrets. You’re just lucky you were present,” she said with a snort, still avoiding Hermione’s line of sight. “I love Ron and Harry. I know there’s no way you’d understand that, considering what I’ve done, but I do. And I owed them the truth. But you-“ she spat, leering at Hermione with scorching eyes, rings of scarlet burning in the chocolate brown, “I don’t owe you anything. Forced to share MY room with you every summer and constantly telling me I wasn’t good enough for Harry when we were younger. I should have known you were nothing but a god damn selfish cunt.”

Rosy lips twisted into an uncharacteristic grin, Hermione merely smiled. Fiddling with the wand in a nonchalant manner, she flicked a strand of curls behind her shoulder and crinkled her eyes, stepping as close to Ginny as she possibly could without succumbing to vomit.

“Ginny, Ginny, Ginny,” she mused, her eyes sweeping the floor as she played with the supple willow. “You really are far less intelligent than I gave you credit for. ‘Stupidity’ doesn’t even begin to define the inner workings of your vacant mind. The only reason I ever told you you weren’t good enough for Harry, is because I never tell a lie. But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, now?” she said almost sweetly, nearly enough to make Umbridge proud.

Hermione began looking Ginny over, her eyes continually flickering to her mane of frazzled strawberry ringlets, “You pride yourself on your looks, don’t you, Ginny? I can’t really see why- pasty skin and freckles aren’t really my cup of tea, but I digress,” she said with a shrug, her eyes darting to the ceiling as she took another step, “Have you ever heard of Samson and Delilah?”

Ginny furrowed her brow and released a small grunt of surprise, watching Hermione as she sauntered toward the door. Her captor lightly placed a hand on the silver knob and slowly swiveled to face her, cocking her head to the side as she squinted her eyes into a grimace.

“Maybe you should look it up,” Hermione said in a condescending tone, her voice barely above a whisper as she swatted her wand in Ginny’s direction, “cunt,” she muttered under her breath. Hermione was out the door in a flash, a gasp escaping Ginny’s lips as sheets of scarlet fluttered to the floor.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Feet pounding the pavement with unrequited vigor, Harry raced down the corridor with his heart beating twice the normal limit. Green eyes gleaming with a vengeful thirst, he rounded another corner and leapt over a startled first year, bent over to tie her quivering shoe.

Where he was going, he wasn’t entirely sure, but a sudden instinct pulled him through the halls of Hogwarts to a very familiar high-pitched voice-

“I can help you, I promise!”

“For the love of Merlin, shut up you horrible hag,” a steely voice drawled, echoing off the marble sinks and ringing throughout the second floor.

Harry wrenched open the door to Moaning Myrtle’s ‘glamorous bastion’ and stood with fists clenched in the entry, staring down the second greatest enemy of his immortal soul:

Draco Malfoy.

“Well, well, well…look who it is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was looking at Romeo himself. Haven’t we been busy, eh, Potter?” Malfoy sneered, hands placed firmly on the granite basin in front of him, glaring at Harry’s reflection as his face twisted into a smirk.

Harry said nothing as he attempted to control his temper, violent fits of anger coursing through his veins as his heart continued to pick up speed.

“I wondered when I’d be getting a little visit from you,” he persisted, leisurely drying his hands as his gaze never left his intruder’s. “You’re not one to take things lying down- unless it’s from Granger.”

His blood boiled beneath his collar, Harry’s vision soon shrouded by seething red as Malfoy laughed in the mirror.

“Once I lost track of Weasel I figured I’d see “The Potty” sooner or later. It’s only fitting that it should occur in a bathroom,” Malfoy sniggered, turning to face his opponent. “Tell me, did you enjoy the little redhead’s shagging as well as I did? I never dreamed she could actually be decent at something other than looking like she crawled out of a hut in the Amazon.”

“We didn’t shag,” Harry finally spoke through gritted teeth, nearly splitting Ron’s wand in two.

“That’s too bad,” Malfoy said in mock sincerity, taking a step toward the decrepit stalls, “you wouldn’t believe what she does if you tickle her c-“

“THAT’S ENOUGH,” Harry bellowed, a faint squeak slipping under the second stall, followed by a tiny splash.

“Hmmm…seems I hit a nerve. I’m done with her now, Potter, she’s served her purpose. All yours, mate. Maybe if you play up that ‘chosen one’ rubbish a bit you can get her in the sac with that mudblood and have a really good time- by your standards of course. I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten foot po-“

“EXPELLIAR-“

“HA!” Malfoy blocked Harry’s disarming curse with a graceful flick and narrowed his eyes in a malicious glare, “That the best you can do, Potter? You ought to get your mind back in the game and off that flea-ridden dog…or what’s another name for it? Ah, yes- or rather, disgusting bitch.”

Harry roared a Leg-Locker Curse at the jeering Draco, who dodged it just as it hit the back wall. He straightened up in an instant and fire blazed in his blistering eyes, molten steel sizzling with anger.

“Cruci-“

“SECTUMSEMPRA!”

Malfoy gasped and fell backward, torrents of blood gushing from beneath his robes and spilling onto the grimy floor. Harry watched in horror as he staggered back to the marble sinks, clutching his chest and panting for gulps of air.

“Oh, God-“ Harry whispered, face white with shock as he froze in the doorway- fighting the urge to retch up the entirety of his digestive system.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!” Myrtle screamed from her stall, zooming over Harry’s head and out into the corridor, opaque eyes wide with fear and amazement.

“No, I-“ Harry floundered, the ground spinning as he tried to retain his composure, watching the blood pour from Malfoy’s face and body…

Snape entered the room with a bang and was hovering over Malfoy in less than three strides. Muttering under his breath and tracing his wand over Draco’s wounds, he flitted his eyes toward Harry- black holes of purest loathing and detestation. Harry shivered and continued to watch, still in a daze and struggling to stand.

“There- you need to go to the hospital wing immediately. An ounce of dittany may prevent the scarring. Come,” he said coldly, turning his gaze to Harry as the most toxic of poisons oozed from his mouth-

“You wait here for me.”

A/N: Take THAT stupid Malfoy! Hahahaha! And you too, Ginny. Such a foul mouth on that girl. At any rate, hope you liked a little action. Not too much more to go I’m afraid. I’m going to tell you now that I’m not finishing the storyline of HBP- MY story is very near the end. The last segment came very close to the original (with several rearrangings) but it happened for different reasons now. And kind of in a different order lol. My fic was just how Harry and Hermione would have gotten together in Half-Blood Prince; I didn’t elaborate enough on the rest of the story to justify “re-doing” the ENTIRE ending of JKR’s original work (I don’t think). Plus, this story was for the most part from Hermione’s pov- which I am most comfortable doing- and now that I’ve pretty much tied back in to the original story, much of what I write would be the same. The only difference would be Harry holding on to Hermione at Dumbledore’s funeral. And then I wouldn’t have him break up with her at the end. Someday in a land far far away I MIGHT do a Dumbledore funeral piece to sort of add on to this one, but I highly doubt it. So, once again, thanks for reading and PLEASE review!! Next chapter up shortly! : )

A/N: Alright ladies and gents, here it is. Nearly three months and over 41,000 hits later: The last chapter. The final installment of the epic saga that is Deceptions. This has been both a joy and a burden to write, and I sincerely apologize for my near six week sabbatical. I was so UNmotivated to write “Truth and Consequence”, mainly because of reader expectations and after all the buildup of the major plot twist, ch.13 didn’t seem quite as appealing. But I got it done and REALLY enjoyed finishing this, the last two chapters especially. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have had writing it- this was my first H/Hr chapter fic and I loved all the attention it got. **IMPORTANT AUTHOR’S NOTE AT THE ENDING** Just thought I’d throw that in to see if you’re paying attention; but yes, there is one waiting for you at the end. This chapter is about three times the length of one of my regular chapters- call it an epilogue treat : ) If there’s any confusion about when this takes place, I’ll answer in reviews. I don’t want to spoil my open lol. So, here we are- it’s nearly time, take a deep breath and- here we go: as always, happy reading…

Sparkling rays of afternoon sun streamed in from far beyond the west wing, illuminating the stuffy corridor that wrapped its way around the castle. A pair of tightly clasped hands swung to and fro between their owners, a lazily pendulum of time they wished to keep still. Turning the corner with fingers intertwined, one gazed shyly at the other, identical blushes spreading across pallid cheeks before each quickly turned away.

Regal scarlet hung loosely from the girl’s tranquil form, gold-embroidered sleeves weighing heavily upon her shoulders. A large number seven was stitched across the back, the yellow fabric worn and tattered against the ruby satin. Coffee-colored ringlets bounced behind her as they strolled, slightly obscuring the letters sewn beneath her locks of brown, spelling “P-O-T-T-E-R.”

“I really like my jersey on you; you wear it better than I ever could,” Harry said with a grin, his face absolutely glowing as he squeezed Hermione’s hand.

“Really? You don’t mind?” she asked sheepishly, sweeping a strand of hair from her eyes as lashes fluttered with embarrassment.

“’Snot like I’ll be needing it today anyway…” he looked away briefly, hiding the pain in his eyes as he tightened his grip on Hermione’s delicate fingers.

She bit her lip with a knowing glance to the left, brows knotting in discomfort. They continued in silence down the lonely corridor, darkness slowly enveloping their surroundings with each passing step. They slowed their gait to a leisurely pace, the corner of Hermione’s mouth gradually sliding up into a smirk.

“You know, I bet no one fails to notice the seeker that takes your place,” Hermione fought back a laugh, watching the smile on Harry’s face spread from ear to ear.

“Ha ha ha, yeah- I heard McGonagall won’t even let her wear a hat.”

“Well, of course not! It’s not a traditional part of the sacred uniform,” Hermione chortled with a roll of her eyes, beaming at the prospect of Ginny circling the pitch, sun gleaming off the glossy dome that is her skull.

“They say Madame Pomfrey can’t get her hair to grow even an inch. What did you do to her?” Harry asked in awe and admiration, tilting his head to look at her over glinting frames.

Hermione sported a mischievous smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, sparkles dancing in the rings of melting chocolate, “That potions book of yours proved to be more useful than I thought…”

“You little witch!” Harry said with rounded eyes, fighting the grin on his face as he spun Hermione to face him. “You’re such a hypocrite! You’ve only been chiding me about that book for HOW lo- mmmmph“

But Hermione shut him up with an ambush, pushing up on the balls of her feet and plastering her mouth on to his. Harry went rigid with shock before melting into the kiss, opening his eyes to find a devious smile on his attacker’s face.

“All is forgiven.”

“Thought you might feel that way,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, battling the burning heat that flushed her cheeks- a wispy pink that colored the fairness of her complexion.

They walked in silence for a while, winding their way into the depths of Hogwarts, the crackling torches bouncing off their beaming faces; they didn’t need the candlelight to glow.

“I was thinking-“

“That’s nothing new.”

“Harry,” Hermione scowled, swatting him on the arm as they continually slowed their measure, each footstep echoing off the dampened walls. She pursed her lips and shot him a look of contempt, Harry quickly breaking her façade with rapidly batting lashes. Hermione laughed, “Stop that- you know…you never finished your sentence from the other day.”

“I was probably interrupted by a pushy brunette. They seem to think they know everything, someti- OW! You don’t have to hit me!” Harry chuckled, fiercely rubbing his arm in the desolate hallway.

Hermione smirked, “You know the one I’m talking about. Remember? In the classroom…How you feel about me…?” she asked tentatively, the sudden appearance of sweat on her palms unable to be controlled. Hermione couldn’t help but feel nervous about his response, doing her best to slow her breathing that currently heaved her chest up and down. Heartbeat skyrocketing, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, letting numbness take over her entire body.

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, grin sliding off his face as he looked Hermione over. He gently placed his hands around her elbows, sliding his fingertips softly beneath her forearm, her skin like silk above his palms. He caressed her wrists and encompassed her hands in his own, adding a slight pressure to her fingers so she would open her eyes.

Brilliant brown popped open in surprise, soaking in the handsome face mere centimeters away. Harry smiled broadly and gazed into her eyes, memorizing every shade of auburn that twinkled in the torchlight.

“Hermione Granger, I love you with every fiber of my being- and if you asked me to, I’d bow out of every Quidditch match just to spend my time with you.”

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione breathed, a waterfall of pure elation gliding down her supple cheek. She blinked languidly, heart bursting with joy for every beat. Flowers bloomed in her chest, vines of sheer delight wrapping around her insides and twisting their way to her soul.

Harry brought her closer to him, feeling the warmth of her body as he enclosed her in his arms. She nuzzled her face in his neck, breathing in his mellifluous scent that sparked a fire within. Harry gently traced circles on Hermione’s back, his fingers dancing across the crimson jersey that rippled with every move. She leaned her head up slightly, so close she could see the pulse in his veins, and softly kissed the crook of his neck, tender lips faintly pressing against the smoothness of his skin.

He leaned back against the stony wall, the cool surface contrasting harshly with the heat that coursed throughout his body. Flames engulfed his abdomen, spreading like wildfire to the sites of Hermione’s kisses. A deep breath escaped him as velvet lips slid gracefully along his jaw line, each kiss painfully slow and sensual.

At first.

Hermione continued her endeavors at a feverish rate, quickening her pace as Harry’s hands roamed across her figure. He cusped her buttocks in his palms, kneading the delicious flesh beneath the flowing cotton. She let out a small moan of encouragement, the tingling sensation in her stomach nearly too powerful to bear.

“Let’s find a broom cupboard, shall we?” Harry breathed into her ear, his voice husky with desire.

“Do you have time?” Hermione panted between kisses, the words escaping her lips like steam from a hot spring.

“I always have time…” he said with a leer, eyes smoldering with olive embers that melted pools of toffee brown. Surrounded by lust and passion, the chill of the barren hallway was no match for budding romance, accelerating so rapidly it could not be contained.

Hermione’s head lolled about her shoulders as Harry picked up where she left off, sending chills up and down her spine as his tongue glided effortlessly across the creamy porcelain.

“But…you’ve only get twenty minutes before your detention…” she finally gasped, unable to stop herself from responding to his every touch.

“You wouldn’t believe what I can do in twenty minutes,” Harry said with a quick raise of his brows, a gleam in his eye as he yanked Hermione’s hand from its current position and held it tightly in his own- dragging her down the lonely corridor with a smile plastered to his face.

Hermione attempted to regain her composure, succumbing to sporadic giggles as she trailed clumsily behind her counterpart, slowly losing his pants with each hastened step. Harry laughed along with her, their voices a melodic harmony that bounced joyously throughout the arctic stone.

They wound their way through the sinister dungeons, beaming like mad at their ludicrous behavior, their bodies mere shadows against the rough surface of the passageway. Spotting a tiny door in the eerie glow of the torches, Harry stopped short and zagged toward the rusty bronze handle, flitting a glance to a blushing Hermione- her mouth twisted into a seductive smile, sultry stare properly in place as Harry wrenched open the flimsy mahogany.

“What the hell?”

But they were not alone.

A startled pair of eyes blinked back at them in incredulity, mouth agape and trembling as another pair slowly emerged from behind him.

“Ron??” Hermione gasped, brown eyes bulging out of their sockets as she stared at his flushing face.

“Er…”

“Hello, Harry. Hello, Hermione,” a dreamy voice floated from beneath the crook of Ron’s arm, waves of blond silk emerging from the darkness.

“You’re shagging Loony Lovegood?!?” Hermione cried, her voice a mix of shock and laughter as Harry continued to stare with an open mouth. “No offense, Lun-a,” she added quickly, making a face at her apparent faux pa.

“None taken,” Luna said pensively, her eyes lingering about the top of the doorframe in mystified wonder.

Ron looked green, wide eyes looking everywhere but his formidable counterparts. Hermione noticed how unusually ruffled his hair was, and fought back a snicker as she processed their findings. Ron fiddled in his seat, or rather, the aluminum bucket he straddled, and twiddled his thumbs, “So, er… the weather’s getting nice out…”

Harry crinkled his brow in confusion, awkwardly looking around to see any trace of a window, considering they were in the heart of the Hogwarts dungeons surrounded by perpetual darkness.

“Of course!” Hermione trilled with a smack to the forehead, startling those around her- minus Luna gazing at the ceiling, “It all makes sense! The Quibblers, the cloves of garlic, the daydreaming in the stairwells- you’ve been after Luna for a while,” she finished with a triumphant grin, Ron burying his head in his hands at Hermione’s spot-on accusation.

“Merlin, Ron, I’m your best mate and you couldn’t even give me a hint?” Harry chided with a smirk, exchanging a knowing glance with the grinning witch on his left.

“OH, sod off, the pair of you! I can snog whoever the bloody hell I want. Now, if you’ll excuse me, this cupboard’s taken,” Ron said in a huff, reaching for the tarnished knob as Luna gave a wistful smile.

“Now, hold on a minute- do you know what time it is? The match starts in less than twenty minutes,” Harry said as he jammed his foot against the door.

Ron looked puzzled for a moment, wrinkling his nose before realization donned his freckled face, “Holy shit, the match! Merlin’s pants, what are we gonna do? What am I gonna do? Oh fu-“

“Well, it’s not like it really matters. We don’t have much of a team, anyway,” Harry replied with dark humor, laughter in his voice but hurt in his eyes; Hermione stroked his hand.

“Ginny! OH my God, is she still hanging there? Do we need to go get her?” Ron asked in high-pitched squeals, springing from his bucket as his eyes wildly searched the corridor.

“Ron, we had charms yesterday- did anything look out of place to you?” Hermione asked flatly, arching her brow at his evident lack of observation.

“Ha ha, I think somebody would have said something if they saw your sister dangling from the chalkboard. If Hermione wasn’t in on it she probably would have asked if we were supposed to study her,” Harry chortled, earning a well-deserved punch in the ribs.

“How’d she get down?” Ron asked suddenly, scratching his head while he stared at the floor.

“Flitwick found her Monday morning before breakfast. I-“

“She was there for three days?” Ron asked in bewilderment, plopping back down on his bucket with a ‘thud.’

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” Hermione answered in surprise, poorly concealing the smirk glued to her face.

“Well, what did she tell him?”

“I was getting to that,” Harry said with impatience, staring daggers at his incessantly interrupting companions.

“I was expecting a page to McGonagall’s office, but when Flitwick asked her how she ended up there, she told him Malfoy did it,” Hermione said serenely, her eyes, too, sweeping the floor.

“Why?” Ron asked in amazement, forehead crinkled in vast confusion.

“I guess three days is a long time to think about things,” Harry said quietly, following suit and letting his eyes find the dampened ground.

“And Malfoy just said, ‘Yea, I did it’?” Ron questioned, skeptical of his motives.

Hermione bit her lip as she chanced a glance at Harry, who was suddenly very interested in the laces of Ron’s shoe. “After the…incident,” she said softly, a shudder passing through her fingers from a tightly gripped hand, “Malfoy was sort of…out of it…for a while. I honestly think he believed he committed the crime. No doubt he thought about it as much as we did, at one time,” she said with a faint smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I can’t believe you haven’t told your mum all this,” Harry said abruptly, snapping out of his trance. “I can’t believe you didn’t know all this; where have you been- ah…” he trailed off with a sudden light in his eyes, a stealthy grin spreading rapidly across his face as Ron’s glance to the corner gave it all away.

“And we just thought you were giving us privacy…” Hermione taunted, winking at a scowling Ron.

“Would you lot go on, then? Clearly I’m not making the match and I’m too aroused to care,” Ron declared as the wooden door snapped to a close, leaving a stunned Harry and Hermione alone in the frigid passageway.

Each turned to the other with mouths wide open, roguish laughter filling the hallway shortly after. Harry grabbed Hermione by the waist and pulled her to his chest, hip bones colliding as they giggled in the dark.

“But who’ll play keeper?” Harry wondered aloud, searching the dim lit walls as if they held the answer.

“MCLAGGEN,” a muffled voice crowed from the cupboard, ensuring more giggling from beyond its narrow boundary.

“How will he know he’s the replacement? There’s no way you can make it to the pitch in less than ten minutes,” Hermione asked, traces of laughter still in her voice as she strolled alongside her partner.

“I have a feeling he’s already wearing the proper attire. If he sees an open spot he’s more than bold enough to take it. One time he tried to convince me you play Quidditch with eight,” Harry said with a snort, smirking at the prospect of such a ridiculous proposal. “I’ll tell you one thing, though- if I was out there today McLaggen wouldn’t be allowed within a hundred feet of that pitch.”

He was trying to sound light and satirical, but Hermione could see through his façade, “At least Malfoy doesn’t get to play either,” she added brightly, once again swinging their hands back and forth.

“True- he was so out of it in the hospital wing they could have pinned anything on him and he would have confessed. I wish they would have asked him what he was really up to,” Harry said through gritted teeth, his eyes in a place far far away as they slowly continued their jaunt. “I’ll eventually figure it out. If it’s not too late…”

“We’ll eventually figure it out,” Hermione corrected with a smile, squeezing his fingers that tangled with her own, “and it’s never too late.”

Finally breaking his icy barriers, Harry smiled, closing his eyes and releasing the air in his chest before meeting Hermione’s gaze, “What would I ever do without you?”

“Use your hand.”

“Hermione!”

She giggled at the astonished look on his face, dodging his hand in an effort to gain retaliation, “You will not tickle me, Harry Potter,” Hermione warned in the sternest voice she could muster, fighting back laughter as she squirmed out of his grasp.

“I’m about to show you how I ‘use my hands’,” he said with a wicked grin, a spark set ablaze in twinkling emeralds, shining against the velvety blackness.

“You’ll have to catch me first- not so quick without your broom, are you?” Hermione prodded, a look of superiority passing her face.

She shot off like a cannon through the shadowy corridor, a fan of chestnut whipping out behind her as she ducked and weaved from Harry’s wriggling fingers. Bounding down the hallway in childlike splendor, they reveled in the innocence of youth- holding on to it with tightly clasped hands before it slipped through quivering fingers, gone forever like sand through an hourglass. Little did they know how soon that day would come.

Bobbing to the left with a quick glance behind her, Hermione spun on her heel to avoid his writhing grasp, a mane of curls obscuring her view as Harry lunged to nab her. A dusky game of cat and mouse, he nearly had her cornered, stopping short when he saw Hermione frozen on the spot, cheeky smile having vanished from her face.

She gradually twisted to the forefront, meeting Harry’s gaze with weary eyes. He cocked his head to the side and gently furrowed his brow, soaking in the light that barely flickered across her face. Olive eyes laden with concern, Harry searched her poignant features, his expression mirroring her own.

“We’re here,” she said in a dejected tone, gesturing to the large black doors that seemed to suddenly spring into view. Ancient oak towered above them, silver chains draped across the jagged wood that led to the potions chamber. Giant torches burned on either side of the sinister arch, bouncing off the grimy stone that lined the castle walls.

Harry checked his watch and felt a heavy breath escape his lips, thoughts of the match racing back to plague his mind. They stood in silence for a moment, Harry’s eyes slightly out of focus as he stared at a shallow puddle on the floor.

“Don’t worry about the cup, alright, Harry?” Hermione said warmly, brushing her hand along his shoulder.

He flicked his eyes up at her, grimacing in the eerie twilight.

“Hey, maybe McGonagall and Snape will call for a rematch? With the lack of key players this afternoon, you’re probably not the only one who isn’t going to be there,” she continued with a soft voice, a tiny dimple appearing on her cheek.

Harry smiled, “Maybe,” he added, drawing closer, “I don’t think Snape’s too pleased that his star seeker is being punished for the ‘charms incident.’ And as for the crowd- it’s really too bad that the sun is shining, because I’m afraid they’ll be blinded by the reflection from Ginny’s head.”

Tinkling laughter filled the ominous hall, Hermione’s body gravitating toward his solid frame. Harry held her in his arms, eyes on the clock that ticked ever closer to their departure. He buried his head in her hair, smelling the wondrous scent that is Hermione, a lavish mixture of feminine beauty. Lids closed in ecstasy, they lost themselves in the embrace, longing for a moment when it didn’t have to end.

Harry pulled back only slightly, tipping her face to meet his gaze. Sparkles shimmered in the languid brown, a sheet of lashes their only eclipse. Hermione blushed, drowning in the pools of green that crinkled with a smile. Their steady breathing was the only sound among the darkness, a faint crackle from the torches echoing in the background.

“I love you, Harry James Potter,” Hermione whispered, tickling his neck as she breathed the words into his ear.

“I love you even more, Hermione Jean Granger,” he answered gently, closing the gap between their mouths with a passionate kiss.

Tongues writhing with uncontrollable vigor, a fire was set ablaze in the bitter corridor, far outshining the gleam of the sizzling torches. Excitement bubbling in her chest, Hermione tingled all over, feeling his hands cling to her every curve. Harry’s body radiated a heat that could rival the sun’s, all senses swallowed by lust and desire.

“Shall we finish what we started?” he murmured in Hermione’s ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

“But…what about Snape?” she panted, clutching the pockets of his trousers as he attacked her collarbone.

“What about him,” the words tumbled out of Harry’s mouth between kisses, his lips gliding along her delicate shoulder.

“Won’t you be late for your detention?” she asked breathlessly, feeling the hands on her back covertly guide her away from the colossal doors.

Harry paused in front of a tiny opening hidden by shadows, ten yards from where they were previously standing. He whisked Hermione around to face him, tawny curls bouncing about her startled features. Gazing intently into questioning eyes, a wry grin made its way across his face, light dancing in magnificent emerald gems.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

And all that was heard was the click of the latch as the door shut swiftly behind them.

Fin

A/N: The end. See? You got your Gone with the Wind ending after all! (if you do not know to what I’m referring, read one of the “rantier” author’s notes at the end of one of the middle chapters. Not entirely sure which one :s ) I’m rather upset that it’s over, but not near as upset as the lack of reviews : ( I haven’t gotten hardly any- were the last chapters really that bad? Tell you what, if I get over two hundred reviews for this story I’ll finish all of HBP, taking up where this left off. Maybe we’ll get that Quidditch Cup rematch after all… and if I get three hundred, hell I’ll rewrite Deathly Hallows. That’s right- whole thing. I hated that ridiculous camping thing- I think a much needed seventh year at Hogwarts is in order. But I doubt you’ll be seeing that with the way readers are responding. SO…if you read this PLEASE tell me what you think. Even if it’s just TWO WORDS- like “good job!” or “you suck”- (hopefully the former and not the latter, but if that’s how you really feel…). I only want to write what the reader is eager to see, so if I don’t get any feedback, this is how it ends. I’d like to thank all of those who have taken the time to review, and I greatly appreciate your words of kindness. You make it all worth it!!!!

<3 forever and always,

Lilymione1203

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