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Chapter 3 : The Forbidden Encounter
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“Will these Muggles ever stop watching?” Ron hissed to Harry. “We’ll never get through to the platform!”
Ginny, again feeling reckless, picked up her trunk. It was still a bit too heavy for her so Harry, feeling chivalrous, stepped in to help.
“Thanks, Harry,” Ginny said breathless and a bit red in the face.
“Sure,” he said, grinning. “Ready?”
Ginny nodded, and together they ran through the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
“Thanks again, Harry,” Ginny gasped, turning to face him, and was surprised at how close they were. They stood chest-to-chest in front of the barrier, blinking in shock (and was that delight?).
“Sure,” breathed Harry. Ginny subconsciously noted how he smelled and how warm he was. Her thoughts were cut short, however, by a shrill, piercing, agitated yell.
Ginny tore her eyes away from the vivid green that had drawn her in and took a step back. Before she could fully recover, Dean’s hands were on her waist and her arms were around his neck.
“Hi,” he said, his brown eyes shining. His tight dark curls framed his face. “It’s been too long.”
Ginny didn’t say anything; she simply nodded. Dean kissed her, and to her it felt as if he had been rehearsing it all summer. His tongue did not know her mouth: He had never kissed her before, but he knew what he was there to do. It was finally Ginny who broke the kiss.
“I’m so glad to see you again,” she cooed, kissing him on the cheek. He pulled her head around and began his routine once more. They were mid-kiss before Ginny realized that Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were now on the Wizarding side of the barrier, and Ron was purpling with anger. The other two were doing an admirable job of not staring, Ginny noticed.
Ginny broke away. “I’ve got to get my things,” she said, brushing a curl behind his ear and tactfully freeing herself of him. “See you in a minute.”
When Ginny turned around, Ron grabbed her shoulder and shood her violently. “He was – he was kissing you,” he stated plainly, unsure of what to say.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Ginny said, reciprocally, still dazed from the suddenness of the kiss. Ron, confused for a moment about whether he should glare at his sister of Dean, grabbed his trunk and Ginny’s and hoisted them onto the train.
“I’ll never look at him the same way again,” Ginny heard Ron mutter to Harry a few second later. “He was kissing my sister ...”
Ginny smiled to herself and helped Hermione with her trunk. It was good to be back in school, away from the distraction that Harry’s constant presence provided. Dean loved her, and that was enough.
It was a wonderful thing, Ginny thought, to be back inside the great hall. It was a blissful paradise of tumults and distractions, in which no room was left for thought. No roomwas left for that which attracted all of her attention, for her attention was directed elsewhere at all times.
The redhead whirled around, as she heard her name called for the second time that day, and found herself fact to face with Michael Corner.
“Hello, Michael,” she said warily. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” He brushed off Ginny’s greeting. “Listen, Gin,” he said in hushed tones, leaning closer, “I broke up with Cho over the summer. I realized that I love you.”
Ginny said nothing. Hadn’t he been the one who started it? “So, waddaya say, Gin? Wanna pick it up where we left off?”
Ginny just looked at him. She liked him. Her senses were not with her – she saw no reason why she shouldn’t. Ginny grinned at him.
“Meet me in five minutes,” she whispered. “Just like old times.” She sat down at Gryffindor table next to Ron, grinning from ear to ear.
“What’re you so happy about?” Ron grouched as she swung into her seat.
“Nothing,” she replied gaily. “Just so glad to be back.”
When she finally looked up from her breakfast, Ginny saw Dean across the table. She knew what she was about to do was wrong, but she wanted it so badly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this way, and she loved. And as said before, her senses were not with her.
AS Ginny made her way to the restricted section of the library, she began to feel more and more nervous, but the more nervous she became, the more expectant she was. When she arrived in the very back of the library, Michael was there, waiting for her. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but when she saw him she threw herself at him with the same hungry kisses they had shared after the Yule Ball, late that night.
When the time came for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw to go their separate way, Ginny felt defiled. She was still a virgin, but the closeness of what had done scared her. She had cheated on Dean, and he would never knew. Ginny arrived late to her first class of the year, sweaty and out of breath.
“Where have you been?” hissed a Hufflepuff girl from across the green house. “Class began ten minutes ago!”
“New green house,” Ginny said, biting her lips. She knew they were still red and swollen from the forbidden encounter. The Hufflepuff smirked and tended to her flower.
Ginny knew she didn’t love Michael – he had betrayed her too many times. It was then that another thought occured to her – what if Dean had been right all those months ago? Michael’s actions had seemed genuine enough, but something small had seemed insincere. He had wanted her body, not her personality – he didn’t want Ginny.
As Ginny looked down though, there was nothing spectacular about her body. She was thin and body, her chest was definitely not-so-impressive. Why would he want her body?
Because you’re hard-to-handle, she thought. Because he couldn’t hold onto you. Anger toward Michael flared up inside Ginny. Never again would she see him! Again, though, she shouldn’t have seem him in the first place, but all the same. Then she remembered what Dean had said.
“I’ve done a lot of things I regret to get you, but I don’t regret having you ...”
If she was that irresistible, then Michael would do anything to achieve his ends. And if Ginny’s senses left her, she hated to think what might happen.
Ginny left the greenhouse feeling more defiled than ever, and it all came back to the forbidden encounter.
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