.five, maybe six times out of fourteen. Yes we're different positions but clearly I'm the better Quidditch player. The world knows it, I know it, she knows it...and for fuck sake Hermione knows it.But she's not in it for the Quidditch skill, she's just proud of her girlfriend-now-fiancée. But proud of what I don't know.And I'm the girl who's on PlayWitch magazine every other week. The whole nation drools over me, even my brothers. That's disgusting yes, but it's just more evidence that I'm the most desirable witch on the planet.I know it irks Chang, I can see it in her eyes whenever I mention it. I was in Diagon Alley once and saw her pick up one. It was the Christmas edition, and I was Mrs Sexy Clause. Red and white miniskirt and jacket, the camera looking right down between my big girls.I could see her visibly stewing, about ready to rip the thing to shreds. She threw it back down on the stack and stormed away.She's incredibly threatened by me, as she should be. Even more so since I. As if she knew what I was thinking, Cassie glanced my way and smiled knowingly.I chastised myself. I was glad to be back. I was glad to have helped Jerry and was quite pleased with the payment swelling my bank account. But it had been an agonising, soul-searching week away.I felt bipolar, my mood swinging from pure unadulterated pleasure at the sexual side of Cassie's and my relationship, to deep depression and even shame for succumbing to her and betraying her mother, Mary, a wonderful woman I'd known for fifteen years.Work had helped take my mind off the problem, but it hung like low, heavy clouds over my head. The only solution I could come up with was to stop. Somehow I had to stop our sexual relationship and wait until she turned eighteen. And, as deeply depressing as that thought was, watching her practice, seeing her move so gracefully, my heart racing just from observing her, I knew, if she loved me, she'd wait. That only made it harder.After practice I took her to Wilket.
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