All You Want

2) You Don't Know What You've Got Till It's Gone

Neville suddenly fell backwards off Hermione.

Hermione slid down the wall and looked up at the flabbergasted Head Girl.

Everything was so—her whole body felt like it was screaming, as though Neville's touch had brought her all the way to the edge of something earth-shattering and then left her there.

She felt suspended and left dangling helplessly.

She wanted to press herself against something. She wanted hands and lips and a tongue to touch and tease her sensitive skin. She wanted a hard, muscular body to hold her down while she arched against it.

She wanted to hear Neville's voice telling her what to do. That he'd take care of her, because everything was so confusing. She didn't know what was wrong.

Now that he wasn't touching her anymore everything just felt all wrong.

"Ginny, I don't know what's happening to me," Hermione forced out.

"How is this even possible?" Ginny was shaking her head faintly in shock.

It was a blur after that. Ginny made some of the younger year boys levitate Neville up to his room and then took Hermione to Madam Pomfrey personally.

Hermione was feeling too overwhelmed and borderline hysterical to keep track of what was happening. She didn't want Ginny to touch her. Ginny's hands were too small and pokey. Ginny's voice was too high-pitched. Every time Ginny said anything Hermione wanted to plug her ears to keep the sound out.

Then Madam Pomfrey's voice sounded like operatic vibrato being belted into Hermione's ears. Everyone smelled oppressively sweet. It made Hermione want to gag.

Her whole body felt as though there were ants crawling on it. The feeling made her writhe and twist, trying to calm herself and get away from the edge she felt she'd been taken to.

But there was no way to get down from it. She was stuck there, just waiting on and on. People kept trying to ask her questions and she couldn't figure out how to answer them. She didn't know how to explain what was happening.

The ache between her legs had sharpened into an overwhelming throbbing sensation and she kept pressing her thighs together trying to relieve it.

She felt so helpless so helpless and bewildered and out of control that she started crying.

People stopped trying to talk to her after that and just spoke to each other.

There was something that was impossible. And maybe something about a specialist.

Anne O'Megga.

Hermione thought was the name she kept hearing, but it was very hard to keep anything straight. Her brain was feeling very determined to not think. The only remotely coherent things she could contemplate were her memories of Neville's hands on her body, his mouth against her skin and how she wished he had picked her up and run away with her before Ginny interfered.

No, she didn't.

She did.

No.

She kept whimpering and asking for him.

Neville had smelled so nice. So comforting. And his hands on her. She'd never wanted anything so much. The sensation of his mouth on her neck—-

She was sobbing for it.

Ginny looked milk-faced and kept saying that she was sorry and that she'd had no idea. And Hermione got so irritated with the Head Girl that she growled and tried to bite her. When that didn't work Hermione hexed her.