What truly plagued her though, was ever since the war ended, she’d been all dried up. Ron had kissed her, and it didn’t at all resemble all the fantasies she’d conjured in her mind about what their first kiss was supposed to be like. She’d spent so many nights hiding away in the prefect's bathroom, stroking the slickness between her folds, hopping one day to replace her hand with another, but deep down in her heart she knew it was never meant to be Ron's hand performing those ministrations.