Age of Exploration ~

Hermione was an explorer- she was an adventurer. She believed in researching things that she didn't fully understand. She wasn't like her family . . . she believed only in practicality. To her, people were not defined so much by a particular belief system, than they were by the material to which they were exposed- life, itself, in her opinion, was a particular form of belief. The experiences you encountered were what made you.

So she began traveling down the path of enlightenment. She began searching for things- people, events, and resources- which would help her to light this path. She'd thrown away the robes of her upbringing. She didn't want to break her parent's heart; she genuinely loved and cared for them. She attempted to do this research in secret, so that she wouldn't need to show them what they didn't want to see.

She began by researching sexual orientation. In her mind, knowing one's sexual body was very different than making love. They were two very different components. Scientifically, it was important for someone to know their own –physical body- and become familiar with its responses. This was essential experience to fulfill certain obligations in a relationship- obligations that one could not fulfill without experience. So, she continued to research . . .

Hermione soon realized that she valued research over morals. She valued knowledge as the world's only true authenticity, but it was difficult for her- she was very unlike her parents, at least in this respect. She sometimes wondered who she really was, because she had extended so far beyond the matrix of her upbringing. But, she also realized that it could not be helped. She needed an outlet.

Upset, and not knowing who else to turn to, she'd gone to Harry for advice. She remembered how they had sat on his living room couch one night- she'd been upset. Her eyes were tear-stained from the previous night, the product of a fall-out she had had with her mother. This one had been particularly bad, and they had left her in a state of emotional distress. As she sat there, that night, with his arm around her, her make-up had smeared in messy blotches beneath her eyes, she began to tell him everything.

The topic of conversation the night before had been Hermione's virginity, religion, and alcohol (the latter of which had been a course summary they had already gone over). It had left her feeling helpless, outcast, and unsupported. She had never felt so low, or so dispirited- she felt as though, in some sense, she had been lost to her own self. Her mother's wrath, and unrelenting hand of law, made her feel, as though she would never have gained any hopes of becoming her own person. That she would never knock down the barriers, physical and otherwise, which needed to be conquered. She had never been left with such a feeling of barren hopelessness before. She remembered that, when it was over, she had stood at her window, for hours, simply looking out at the sky. There was, perhaps, no time in her life in which she had felt quite as lonely as she did then.

When she had finished, she laid her head against his shoulder, her emotions spent. Harry rubbed his hand up and down her arm a couple of times- she sighed, and let her hand fall against his chest. They were quiet for a few moments. He gently rubbed her shoulder-

"Harry," she said finally, sounding weak and spent, "I am sorry to throw all of this over you. I had no one else to tell." He was quiet for a minute.

"I could help you, you know," he said, suddenly. "If you wanted to . . . explore yourself, a little more. I could help guide you with it." She opened her mouth in a small 'o.' The thought had never occurred to her . . . and, she wasn't necessarily against the notion. Harry was her best friend, and she would always consider him as such- she knew him well enough, and trusted him enough not to abuse that friendship, as well.

"But, you and I- we're not- " She and Harry had already decided that they were not going to be in a romantic relationship. The first time that she had visited his apartment, they had covered the basics. And, although undeniably she had had an infatuation with him at one point, they had both decided that they were not going to pursue anything serious. However, he had always been attracted to her . . . although Hermione had never really considered all of the dynamics to that idea.

"Well, I'm not sure . . . " she began. She looked up at him uncertainly. "I don't want us to jeopardize our friendship." On the other hand, she did trust him . . . and there was no one else she trusted enough to be able to do this with her. The idea was tempting.

"Yes, I want to," she said abruptly.

"Are you sure?" he asked her.

"As long as we both know what it is- and, we are both semi-intelligent people- " she started, "yes, it is something that I want to share with you. If you could consider yourself as helping a friend . . . then, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?" It was more of a statement, and he laughed at the stubborn quality that he heard.

"No, I can't see as there is," he responded.

"Then, yes," she said, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head, knowing (inasmuch as he knew her) that she was about to convince herself to take a life-changing leap. This type of bravery, which caused her to make epic, cut-throat decisions by the moment, was simply a part of her. He knew her better than he almost knew anyone.

"Yes," she said again, thereby cutting off all of the ties to her old life, religion (which she had never completely owned), and any thoughts she had ever had, which may have determined- had she fully embraced 'virginity before marriage' which way her life would go- with a single word.

There, it was- she saw it. And, as he had predicted, a minute later she turned around, and looked at him in fierce determination. There was no hesitation, or sign of scruple present.

"I want you to break my virginity for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, followed by a 'why not?' "I never presumed that I would stay a virgin before marriage anyway," she said, "so that I can't hold onto any ties of my old life, help me to break them fully. It's going to happen sooner or later," she said practically, "and, you are right . . . I will need experience if I am ever going to completely learn the art of physical attraction. Why not now?" she asked. Much better that she started with a friend, and someone she trusted, she reasoned- Hermione, with her highly practical mind, whose life was governed by research, examined the factors here as she would an essay- and, as she would do with an essay, she reached a quick conclusion.

Life was a panoply of material to use and exploit, and Harry was her resource- why not take him up on his offer? She had always had little time for foolish beliefs that earned her nothing beyond a set of morals and society's good opinion of herself. But, sex and morality could be mutually exclusive- and she, in spite of her upbringing, steeped in religious values, could see it. Physicality and the exploration of such, was an art; all about the senses. The ability to touch, sense, taste, and feel? Sensuality and beauty? Each piece categorizing these qualities uniquely? And, as every art expert would tell you, how could one learn about it without the direct experience?

She looked up at him again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said.