Lost Soul

Ginny shook her red hair out of her face and dropped to her knees in her dormitory. She was lost in a sea of overwhelming emotions. She put her hands to her face and wept. Where did I go wrong? I thought it was the right time. How could I have been wrong? Hermione's expressionless face remained vividly in her mind as Ginny slowly undressed for bed. She crawled into her four-poster bed and hoped for a better tomorrow. She figured facing both Harry and Hermione would be almost unbearable. She put her hand gently under her pillow and listened silently to her other roommates' deep and constant breathing.

***

Ginny woke the next morning to the sound of her alarm clock. She brought her pale hand down upon clock to cease the relentless noise. The tousle-haired beauty wiped the sleep from her large amber eyes and stretched. It took her a matter of moments before her eyes adjusted to the dim room. She glanced over at her clock. 8:57 AM. She was going to be late. Ginny miserably spun around the room for her clothes and her hairbrush. "No time to shower, as usual. Either it's cold water or I don't get one, " s he muttered to herself. She managed to grab her books, throw on her cloak and race toward the Great Hall, her red hair flowing behind her.

Ginny bolted through the door of greenhouse three just as Professor Sprout was taking attendance. Ginny grinned through a mouthful of buttered toast and placed her books silently beside the only remaining empty table. "Now as I was saying," Professor Sprout went on, "Professor Snape's sixth grade potions class will be sharing our greenhouse with us as they study wolfsbane, Alihotsy and Asphodel, it's for their Afterlife and Underworld unit." Stifled murmurs echoed along the dirty wooden tables.

"The Slytherins?" Ginny wondered to herself. Professor Sprout began to dictate today's lesson when the greasy haired, hooked nosed potions professor stalked oh so maliciously into greenhouse three. Snape's usual group of nasty Slytherins flanked him and they hastily retreated to the back of the greenhouse, as far away from the others as possible. Ginny looked up occasionally from her Flutterby Bush and glanced around at the intruders.

He kept to the shadows so as not to be seen. That was the last thing he wanted. He looked at them, scoffed them. "They're all so perky, it's disgusting. All except one, the Weasley. She's blossomed nicely over the summer. She doesn't even look like the same person." His eyes raked over her figure and skimmed across her milky features. His eyes lit up as they came across her softly formed round breasts. He dropped his gaze to survey her curves. He liked what he saw.

" If only I could just get a look at what she's hiding under there." His hair brushed his cheek and he simultaneously brushed it back. "Something's bothering her. Something is on her mind, plaguing her innocent thoughts. No doubt she's a virgin, how could she not be. She's a Weasley so it would be hard for her to even manage to keep a boyfriend. But that's not the problem, that's not what's bothering her. It's something much more than that. But what?"

"Mr. Malfoy, would you kindly like to explain your fascination with the fifth years?" Snape's voice echoed throughout the greenhouse. Draco lowered his head slightly.

"Nothing, sir, " Draco managed to choke out.

"Do they amuse you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked almost teasingly. Draco shook his head,

"No Sir."

"Then get back to work. I'll have none of this lollygagging about. I expect this report to be done right. How else are you going to make your potion?" Snape sneered in Ginny's direction and continued on with his almost silent lesson. Draco and Ginny's eyes locked for a mere second before she tore her eyes away and looked back down at her Flutterby Bush, which she had now managed to successfully prune. "There is something in her head. I will get to know her, inside and out."

***

Ginny was poring over her transfiguration homework after dinner, when both Ron and Harry came into the common room looking rather sodden and disheveled in their soaking Quidditch robes. "Well," Harry began, "he is getting better."

"Better, ha!" Ron choked out. "How can you can missing thirty six blocks in a row? I can't do this Harry, who was I to think that I could be a keeper?" Ron sulked toward the boy's dormitory staircase with his dripping Quidditch robes weighing him down. "Maybe I can take up pottery." Ron mustered all his strength to give them a weary grin before he said, "I'm going to bed. Night." Harry shook his head and said,

"You'll do fine next practice." Although Harry only half believed that. Ron had been practicing all summer to "do better" and so far it wasn't having an effect. Ginny looked up at Harry and shrugged.

"Maybe you ought to help him, give him some pointers, you know?" Harry sighed.

"That's the problem. I have been giving him pointers it's just, when he gets out on the pitch, he seems to forget it all. It's like his mind goes blank. I don't know what more I can do for him, but his is getting a little better. He didn't fall off this time." Harry moved slowly to the staircase and waved a merry little good bye before retreating into the darkness.

"Even covered in mud he still looks good," Ginny thought to herself. She smiled as she stared blankly into the crackling fire. Her mind raced a mile a minute, thinking about all of the things her heart wanted. She wasn't going to give up on Harry but it seemed that she had Hermione more on her mind. Where is she, Ginny wondered? She hadn't seen her all day. Hermione's soft features held a responsive picture in Ginny's memory. She wanted so badly to hold her and to be held by her, yet she just couldn't understand why she longed for her so badly.

Ginny glanced back down to her half finished transfiguration homework and accepted the fact that it wasn't going to get done. She knew she had no motivation to complete it and all she really wanted was a nice hot bath and to crawl into her bed, to wallow in her own self-pity.

Ginny gathered her things and slumped toward the staircase. She managed to haul her tiny figure into her dorm without disturbing any of the others. Two of her roommates were sitting on one bed and giggling over a magazine. They didn't even look up as Ginny tossed her bag on her bed. She shook her red hair out from the loose ponytail she had it up in, collected her towel and bath things and headed toward the bathroom. She tugged off her Hogwarts robes and tossed them dismally aside. She filled the tub with warm frothy water and slid into it casually letting the water sooth her aching body.

Ginny ached for more things than she understood about. She wanted acceptance, she wanted appreciation, and she wanted Harry and Hermione. She felt like the world around her was moving forward and leaving her behind.

After her hour-long bath, she stepped gingerly out of the tub and wrapped her bath towel around her fragile body and walked silently into her dorm. Her roommates all still asleep were nestled in their beds. Ginny crept so as to not disrupt them toward her own bed. She placed her bathing things in her trunk and pulled back her bed curtains.

It took all the restraint she could muster to not cry out in shock. Hermione sat there looking at Ginny's frightened form and giggled. Ginny giggled too. They shushed each other in order to speak. "What are you doing here?" Ginny asked more excited that she was there than disappointed. Ginny had to admit that she was sort of hoping something like this would happen to her.

Hermione grinned. "Well, I felt bad about leaving you hanging the other night so decided to drop by." She raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow to add to the atmosphere and pushed a stray piece of wet hair out of Ginny's face. Color immediately rose to Ginny's cheeks. She watched as though it was a dream and hoped that if it was, that it would never end.

"Well," Hermione began, " where were we?" She glanced down and grasped Ginny's damp hand. She softly tugged her down on the bed. Ginny clutched her towel, praying it didn't fall down. Hermione stroked her face slightly and pulled her close.

Ginny was held before but it never felt quiet like this before. An ache in her awoke and swarmed her body like an army of feverish ants. Hermione pushed her lips on Ginny and teased her lips with her tongue. She parted them with skill and Ginny's hands soon found Hermione's breasts. Like an expert, Hermione began to harass Ginny's untouched tongue with her own. A small soft moan escaped from the little redhead as she caressed Hermione's soft neck.

Hermione pulled back the towel with no objection from Ginny. Her red hair, now matched the color in her cheeks.

*