I can’t believe her.

What right does Hermione Granger have to ruin my life and take away my love? None, absolutely none. How dare she!

I hate her for what she did. We were friends and she stabbed me in the back. I loved him, I loved Harry with my whole heart. She must have known that. And she went and kissed him anyway. And that kiss grew to something big, something huge. And we all know that grows to marriage and children and so on.

She doesn’t know what it’s like, Hermione. Hermione never felt the pain I did. She was never the little sister of Harry’s best friend, the young one desperate to be involved and included. She was always right up there with the best of them. And why? What for? I still don’t know. In first year, I got letters from Ron; the first few weeks he only referred to her as annoying, a know-it-all, buck toothed and repeatedly, annoying.

But then it all changed. She stuck up for them, and they saved her from a troll… it ruined everything! It was meant to be me, the following year getting into their group. Not Hermione!

I know I sound creepy, even insane. But no one really understands what it’s like. They say every person has one true love out in this world. Well, Hermione stole my true love right out of my nose.

Love makes a person do crazy things. Trust me, I know.

Because I did crazy things. very crazy things. All for Harry Potter’s love. Because I was convinced we were supposed to be together. How could I be wrong, if I spent every waking second thinking about him? How could I be wrong, if every time I fell asleep, I would see him in my dreams? I just couldn’t.

I would have been quite content staying mad at Hermione forever. It was her fault, see. Not Harry’s...

Of course it was Harry’s fault too! I knew it deep down inside, but let’s all face it; I wouldn’t blame him when it was just so much easier to blame Hermione.

The trouble is, the road that looks easier always turns out to be harder than anything else. A life lesson I’ve learnt... well, the hard way. Ironically enough.

Damn I hate irony.

Everything in my bloody life ends up as bloody ironic. It’s like some conspiracy against me, to mock me. To mock my attempt at facing the world, getting by and staying alive. It’s like they are telling me that I should just curl up and die.

But who the hell are they anyway? Some sort of outside force, I guess, bigger than anything else and with infinite power. Something like God, I suppose. The Fates, even. They are mocking me. But then again, I really don’t know.

All I do know now is that I am Ginny Weasley, and I was betrayed by one of my best friends.

Welcome to my story of greed, hate and envy.

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Hahaha; I’ve always wanted to end something with ‘welcome to my story of -’. It just sounds so funny. Anyway I really do welcome you to Ginny’s story of greed, hate and envy. Check it out, it has slight hints of Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny... so all you people never satisfied, beat THAT!

Anyways, there will be 3 chapters after this, each about 500 words long, and an Epilogue. Yes, that’s a fair bit shorter than my usual work. But this doesn’t call for much explanation. It’s the title that tells you what’s happening; the text only backs it up. A bit strange.

xo anniePADFOOT

I wanted it all, you know. I wanted it all; and Hermione had it all. Or so she seemed to. I wanted what she had.

That was my greed.

I wanted her smarts. I wanted her looks. I wanted her friends, her life. But most of all, I wanted her boyfriend.

It’s clear why I would want her smarts. She’s the most intelligent student in Hogwarts. It’s quite a miracle that she’s not a Ravenclaw, really. The Hat puts you into a house by quality and quantity of the quality. So if Hermione didn’t make it into Ravenclaw with her amazing brain capacity, then imagine how brave she must be to become Gryffindor. Yes, that brave.

Of course I wanted her looks. I was just plain old Ginny; horrid pale skin, ugly freckles and boring brown eyes. Plus the Weasley hair, which I hated; bright red and wavy. Bright bloody red, I tell you; you can’t miss me if you try. For me, all that plus my short, skinny figure does not equal beauty. Hermione’s tall, curvy frame, tanned skin, curly hair and big eyes do.

Her friends; well, I didn’t necessarily want them in particular. Ron and Harry, that is. But I wanted a group of friends as close as they were. Two great friends that I could rely upon to do anything for me. Anything, everything and whatever. We would never fail; she had that, and I did not.

Her life seemed so perfect, and I wanted it badly. She had everything else going for her everything I could see. I wanted to be Hermione. And being Hermione meant…

Having Harry.

All I ever wanted was Harry. All I ever wanted was to have him… have him to myself. To be Hermione and therefore have him.

How I wanted him. How I lusted after him. I did anything I could, really. I threw myself shamelessly at Harry. But he simply refused without trouble, pity for me in his eyes. I hated pity.

I dated other guys to make him jealous. But he never got jealous; he would only smile and congratulate me, a spark of hope in his eyes. Hope that I would move on.

I tried just being his friend first. Well that worked… sort of. But we were stuck on the friend level, since he refused to go further. And even that level I fucked up by trying to… well, trying to make it more-than-friend level.

I tried everything. And I still did not get what I wanted, what I needed. What I thought I would die without. And that was my first stage, my first stage of ‘The Obsession’, as it seems to reflect. Because it is an obsession now. And obsession of love.

That was my greed. My greed for something that was not intended for me.

My greed for what I would never have.

--

Chapter one is complete. Stay tuned for two! Also, I am aware that this changes in tenses. Sometimes it is past, sometimes it is present. Well if you don’t like it... eh. Tell someone that cares; it works this way, and it’s my story.

xo annie

Hate. Hate is a fickle thing. A fickle thing that can cause this world more destruction and torment than anything else, ever. It can ruin everything. No, let me rephrase that. It will ruin everything. It always does.

They say there’s a thin line between love and hate… well, that’s debatable.

I knew what I felt. I loved Harry. I hated Hermione. It was simple like that. I understood it, it made sense to me. And not many things made sense to me, so I was glad for at least one.

But enter hours and hours of meaningless thinking and new theories come to mind. New, annoying theories that make you question the core of your very beliefs. Did I hate Hermione? Yes, I did. I hated her for what she did to me. Ok, that part didn’t really change and I don’t think it ever would. But something else did…

Did I love Harry? Or did I hate him?

I loved him. But I hated him just as much, also. I loved him because it’s all I knew. I knew nothing else of this world, except loving Harry Potter. It was natural to me, like instinct. I loved him with my whole heart, always and forever.

But I hated him so much. I hated him for picking her over me. I hated him for not loving me, loving me the way I loved him with my unwavering loyalty. For that, I hated him.

It’s so funny because the hate… it grew from something else. I used to love Hermione, love her like a sister. I did actually consider her my sister. We were very close friends. Sure, Rona and Harry came first, but I was her best girl friend by a mile.

And Harry. I loved him purely, without a single shred of hat in my mind. I loved him so much it hurt. It hurt to know that he was away from me. It hurt to see him laughing from a distance, because I knew I didn’t cause that laughter, that happiness. I loved him that much.

And now what? Now there is hate. For Hermione, there is only hate. For Harry, there is love and hate.

There is a thin line there. I understand that saying now. I hate him, but I love him. Well let me tell you, the feeling is a complete waste of time. All it does is confuse you, and I want to escape it.

I want to escape the hate, the hate that is consuming me. And fast. It’s consuming me so quickly, because I have nothing else left.

There is no joy within me. No compassion, or pride or even anger. It is all gone it’s left me to be an empty shell with only three things inside. There is only greed, hate and envy.

And at the moment, hate is ruling my life.

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Hate. Hate is underrated. It’s a very powerful thing… there’s my bit of philosophy for the day. Thanks to all for reviewing, and to Meg for beta-ing.

xo anniePADFOOT

The envy was the worst, by far. Because I could have lived with it, could have survived. But I had to increase my sufferings. I had to do the stupid thing, the Ginny thing. I had to tempt myself, and increase the envy.

Increase the pain. How the hell would I do that, you may ask. How the hell do you increase your sufferings when you’re already dying inside of pain every time you look at the happy couple that’s meant to have you and not her? How the hell?

Well it was quite simple, really. I kissed Harry. And I could feel him kissing me back. It was the most beautiful moment of my life. But it ended far too soon; predictably enough, he broke away almost immediately. And he did so, swiftly looked me in the eyes deeply. Deeper than anyone else ever had. He was searching for something, and after a few seconds, he did not find it.

It took me less than a second to realize my mistake. I wasn’t forgiving Hermione for stabbing me in the back… but what was I doing at this very second? The same thing.

I could see it in his beautiful, emerald green eyes. They were indescribable, but I always tried anyway; breathtakingly beautiful, but that didn’t even scratch the surface. They were more stunning than jewels of the most royal type. They were amazing.

I could see everything I didn’t want to in those eyes. I don’t love you. He had told me this once before, when I admitted my love to him in 6th year, trying to break Hermione and Harry before they actually happened. So I told Harry I love him, and Ron told Hermione he loves her.

That time, Harry told me he didn’t love me. He loved someone else.

I knew it was Hermione. Without any words, I knew it was Hermione.

There we go again. My envy was amazing. I was so envious of her, being the girl wanted by Harry Potter. Why did she get that? Why didn’t I?

So I saw him. I kissed him, and he pulled away. And once again, heart was broken when he told me he didn’t love me and it was a mistake. I watched him; I watched the guy I love, the only guy I’ll ever love, walk away, out of my life.

And right back into Hermione’s. If only I had not kissed him, I wouldn’t have known; I wouldn’t have bonded my soul with his in a special way that did not break and would not. If only I had not done that… but I did, and I tempted myself even further, into something I could never have, but craved for anyway.

Once again, there was my envy. I had gone through greed, gone through hate… and now I settled for envy. And I knew the envy would never die down. It would always be here with me, till the day I die.

That’s my greed. That’s my hate. And worst of all, that’s my envy.

As unsettled as ever, forever.

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Hope ya’ll liked that. Bloody envy is one of the worst ever. pilogue coming soon, and kudos to Meg for the betaing

xo anniePADFOOT

We are ‘friends’ again. Friends, what a joke. Hermione and I friends again. How can I be friends with the best friend that stole the guy I loved? How can I go back to the way it used to be?

I can’t. Well, I don’t think I can, anyway. But I have forgiven Hermione, truly. There is only one reason for that forgiveness.

I am no better than her.

I did just what she did in my envy and temptation. I betrayed her, and now she’s not the only scum between one’s toes. Now I am too. And that’s why I forgave her. Because doing it personally, I know what it was like for her.

I don’t sympathize. I hate her for what she did, but Hermione is forgiven. We tried going back to being great friends like we used to… but I can’t do it. I may have forgiven, but I did not forget and I never will. Deep within me still lies my greed, my hate and most of all, my envy.

I am still envious of her. And I still want to be her. I don’t care how much pain she goes through, I still want to be her. But I cannot. And yet, I have forgiven.

And Harry. Sweet Harry, my love. My true love.

Did I forgive him? Well, of course. No one can stay mad at someone they love. It’s just not possible. Of course, I forgave him. But I did not forget either. And I still love him, still so much that it hurts. It hurts every time I see him because I know we are not together. I know he is still with her.

We tried being friends too. Not working at all. It went even worse than mine and Hermione’s attempt, really, which is saying quite a bit. I just can’t pretend like nothing happened. Because something did happen; something very big. The biggest thing in my life happened, and I cannot just turn my back on it.

I stay away from them. I have not moved on, and I never will. So instead, I moved away. Away from Harry, away from Hermione… away from pain. Away from it all.

In hope of never seeing their faces again. I know what will result if that were to happen; unwanted emotions brought to the surface again. And another reminder of how I forgave them…. because I knew what it was like. I did their deed myself.

So I stay here, in this… place. I am isolated, but I don’t really mind. There’s only one person in this universe I’d want to spend time with anyway, and he is sitting happily with some one else, and probably a batch of kids, joyously spending time together.

And while they’re happy, I am all alone out here.

Alone and free to wallow in my greed, my hate and most of all, my envy.

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There we go the end of Greed, Hate & Envy. Kudos to Nelly for the title, taken from a song out of the album Country Grammar. And kudos to the brilliant beta of Kris & Meg. WORSHIP THEM!

xo anniePADFOOT