Love code

This is the option in which Cho uses the history of her relationship with Hermione, to remind the brunette of the great memories they shared

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Hermione's POV

I always choke on this thing. What does Ginny think I am, a snake that can swallow whole? Even if I could I don't know why I'd want to, this thing can damage your trachea so easily. I've read up on it.

I asked her the first time she wanted me to deepthroat her if I could use magic. She said no. It's more of an achievement if I can train my throat into taking it all.

Three months later I'm still struggling, with only half her penis in my mouth and throat, until she gets impatient and uses brute force to bury herself. And then she just pulls out after a few seconds and we're moving on. Always quick to target my more important holes.

This time Ginny is in a rush, and doesn't want to get too sweaty so it's only a quick blowjob. She confuses my efforts for enthusiasm, I just wanted her cock out of my mouth as quick as I can.

”Use your tongue more” Ginny pants out.

My knees were digging uncomfortably into the carpet. The sort of bland type of carpet you see in schools, that leave line marks in your skin. Why we needed that for ”our” bedroom I don't know.

Why can't we do this on the bed, why am I on my knees by the dresser and she in the chair? But I don't question anything, I just DO.

I’m completely clothed, quite a rarity in this place. She's naked from the waist down, her upper body formally clothed in a smart white blouse and purple blazer. She's going to another business dinner, this time with the Muggle magazine Vogue. They don't know she's a witch yet, the plan is for Ginny to get famous in the Muggle world and then bring to light the magical communities.

I've got no qualms with the idea. I love it actually. But this woman isn't quite the model I wanted representing us magical folk. Still, smoke and mirrors is better than nothing at all she says.

Ginny gasped, the work I put in was finally paying off. But then she asked me for the time, without letting me utilise my mouth for speech purposes. I threw my attached wristwatch in her face unceremoniously. ”Twelve minutes. I think I have time to bust one quick nut.”

Then before I could cherish the freedom of my mouth, I'm pulled up into her lap and I'm also naked from the waist down in a flick of her wrist. A well practiced shift and she's buried to the base in me.

”Ah, beautifully tight as usual. Let's hope the changes to the formula work.” She's referring to the fact the fertility part of the potion hasn't been working, to my huge relief. Her sperm cells too compacted together and restricting of movement, the cells die before they get anywhere near my eggs. In simpler terms, her cum was TOO thick and gloopy.

I, of course, have been introduced to the potion production. As far as Ginny knows I haven't found where she went wrong, except I do in fact know what went wrong. Simply stirred too fast. Correct direction and right amount of circulations, but a few seconds too fast. I haven't told her this, only told her to buy a new cauldron (to rule out residue from previous potions) and experiment with dosage.

She doesn't quite understand what a slower approach looks like. Her slow is a potioneers leisurely pace, at best. It should take five seconds for each complete stir, not two or three. Because of this Ginny is never likely to solve the problem naturally, so this is quite an entertaining part of our relationship.

A relationship it technically is. I'm here by choice, not emotionally but physically, and that's enough.

We go for dinner sometimes, always to a fast food place despite the amount of money Ginny earns, three times more than my own income and growing.

We live together in the country, a house built entirely for us right beside the Burrow.

Our family and friends support us, although I wish they didn't.

We sleep in the same bed, hardly sleeping at all. I pretend I'm a really early bird to Ginny, when in actual fact I'm sleeping on the sofa to escape her snoring.

She kisses me, touches me when in public and shags me senseless every chance she gets (as long as she's had her potion). WE’VE NEVER HAD SEX WITHOUT THIS DAMN THING INSIDE ME INVOLVED.

But she doesn't hold my hand. Embrace me. We don't cuddle. She doesn't massage my shoulders, it's the other way round with no return offering. She doesn't say she loves me. She doesn't particularly enjoy my company, or share many of my views.

I'm a sex slave. Not a lover.

She cheats on me, not like I actually care for like I said I don't consider this a relationship. But I wish she'd run off with one of those other girls, have babies with them and let me get back home to where I want to be.

Of course, I don't want Ginny to do this treatment to someone else, so I pretend I love Ginny. I need her in my life (lie), and I'll always be hers (never). Because as long as Ginny believes those two things, she'll try and keep me forever and spare other people from my fate.

But I don't want to be here forever. I didn't want to be here period. I don't love Ginny, and I never will. Only in recent years have I even begun to like Ginny as a friend. And now I know why Ginny suddenly became so likeable and attentive.

My decision to make her maid-of-honour was to keep the Weasley's satisfied. They never approved of me and Cho. They being Molly. But now they're all happy with this relationship I'm in, ignorant to how out of the blue it was and that I was suddenly no longer head over heels for Cho. I stand in front of them and think ’why in the hell was I seeking approval from these people?’

Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville were the only ones who were dubious, gave Ginny and me a hard time over the facts. I couldn't tell you how badly I wanted to blurt out the truth and cry, and maybe if I had I might already be back with Cho, but the pain my former fiancee must have surely had, made me think fighting against this was pointless. Cho won't take me back after what I did.

The only thing going for me...is the sex. I won't kid anyone, the sex is fantastic. I'm having the best sex of my life with Ginny. I hate knowing it, but I've never cum as hard with Cho as I have with Ginny. It's the only thing I will miss if everything went back to how they were before.

I'm only human, if I wasn't I'd hate everything and have nothing to be happy about. And I would prefer that. I need some happiness now that I no longer have Cho, if that only comes in the form of mind-numbing sex then sobeit.

So much for not getting sweaty, on this hot summers day I'm riding Ginny like a rodeo bull, and she's making quite an effort too. Loud noises upstairs of cries and moans, loud squelching noises of Ginny's lap smacking my bum.

”Ahhh fuck, gonna fill you up. You love it don't you Mione?”

”Oh, yes” That's all I love regarding you.

”Yeah, you do. Ride that cock. No cock like my cock.”

Yeah, guys can't match the size, girls don't even have that tool advantage besides strap-on dildos. Which I shamefully didn't try with Cho, in that sense I know Cho would be better in this department. She was very attentive and inventive, perhaps more than Ginny ”the expert”.

She struck a very sensitive place inside me and my orgasm was upon me. I screamed and clung to her neck as I clenched. I made her wince in part pain part pleasure, squeezing her large cock with the additional tightening of my vagina.

Then it was her turn to scream, and with a swelling pulse she came inside me, anchoring me down where our bodies met. It's thickness felt just the same as always, and with a cognitive mind I might have had a bit of smugness to my post-sex reaction. But all either of us could do was lean on each other and pant in exhaustion.

It always takes a full minute for Ginny to finish cumming. Usually she'd leave the smell of sex on her, she literally won't wash for days. Sexual residue was a hot turn-on for her, she thinks I love it too, when I REALLY do not.

But given Ginny's plans for the evening she had to freshening herself up. Without a verbal exchange we redress ourselves and go our merry way.

Finally, I can be away from her.

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Like a homey partner Ginny wants me to be, emulating her own mother, I monotonously say ”good luck” as she descends the stairs. She either didn't hear me properly or respect me, for she just sniffed it off and said ”DO wait up for me. I think we'll be set for the biggest celebratory sex ever when I get home tonight.”

Knowing she's not going to listen to me, I groan to myself ”I suppose you'll fuck them into doing a deal.”

I was correct, she didn't hear me. She was slightly distracted however when she saw what laid on the doormat. “Bloody fan mail, I haven’t got time for this. Hermione, take care of this won’t you?”

I don’t have to reply, obviously in her eyes I had already answered “great. See you later.”

The door clicked shut and I sighed so hard in relief I nearly slid off my desk chair. I hadn’t been left alone for over a week. I had time to forget. Time to pretend. Time to reminisce. Time for my body to recover from my regular sexual workouts. Time to be me.

I always like visualise how I’d manage an escape back to Cho. I have differing plans ranging from A to G, completely foolproof in my opinion. But all of them required Cho holding her arms out in invitation, and Ginny knowing when she’s beat. Either of them as highly unlikely as each other.

I’d work on my evening vacation at home, after I quickly grab whatever the unfortunately fooled Ginny mega-fan has wrote about their heroine. I don’t want my doormat caked in post that’s as good as junk mail to both receivers.

I stroll to the hallway sluggishly, unenthused with whatever I may find. I don’t even look down until I’m a matter of metres away, and I find myself a few metres back the way I came when I finally do.

What I saw was a cute little bobble-head of a lemur. Now of course it could’ve been any of the...probably many lemurs made into a bobble-head. It was only natural that my reaction was so extreme, because even though it could’ve well not have been the exact lemur, it was still MY lemur.

The odds of seeing a different version of the same model I once bought in Madagascar, being posted to the house I was currently staying, and it being an incredible coincidence. You’d be a fortune teller if you actually bet on it and won a fortune. A rich fortune teller.

But although my head was conflicted, my heart was convinced. It WAS my lemur, it had to be.

I approached it cautiously, because I could be dreaming. I was probably slumped in my chair dead to the world, and my subconscious knew exactly what I needed to see to get through.

But I was thinking too clearly, and the slight sting of a pinch confirmed it to be a conscious experience. I still approached ludicrously slowly, you’d think a bomb had been deposited through the door. Not a nostalgic little animal figurine.

I got onto my knees and reached for it. Touching it restarted my heart, and I slowly (but faster than before) I drew it into my chest like a child who’s lost her teddy bear.

If this was my lemur, which it still may not have been, there’s only one person who couldn’t sent it to me. WAS it to me? Didn’t Ginny say it was fan mail? Then again she wasn’t the most observant person in the world.

If this was for me, and was the exact same lemur, then my heart would jump so hard it would hit the ceiling.

That holiday was just a year ago. The last of three holidays; the winter one. I had just seen the animation film, with the same island as its title, at the cinema. I knew that I needed to go to that place for real.

I got to see a lemur. But it was cautious of me and didn’t approach. Stupidly, that upset me. Then I got this bobble-head as a gift, and my holiday was back on track. I kept this lemur on my dresser back at mine and Cho’s.

Who did I watch that film with? Cho.

Who made my initial suggestion to go there become a reality? Cho did.

Who came with me on that holiday? Cho again.

Who paid for the up-and-close experience with the lemur? Cho also.

Who comforted me when it ran off? Cho of course.

Who immediately ran to the gift shop and came back with the lemur I was currently holding in the present? Cho Chang.

I hadn’t noticed the letter yet. A muggle envelope, no wax seal and made of paper instead of parchment. When I did notice it, my reaction was the opposite of the one I had towards the lemur, I snatched it up and tore into it in my haste to find out if my dreams were coming true.

Oh boy were they. Inside was the honeymoon pamphlet of Corsica that we looked at merely minutes before Ginny turned up on our doorstep.

“Oh Cho” I burst into tears.