Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!
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"Are you telling me you're not even a little bit curious?"
"Well, maybe a little." Hermione looked down and bit her pink lower lip, thinking. She had insisted to me that she had no desire to accept an invitation to join in a game the older girls played late at night. She had stated that truth or dare was nothing but idiots sitting around and giggling at their own stupidity.
"Why would they even be interested in having me play?"
"Well…" I felt my cheeks going hot, and wondered if she could see my blush in the firelight "you know, because there's a rumor that you and Harry…"
"What?" Hermione spat.
"You spend so much time together."
"I spend a lot of time with Ron, too"
"Everyone can tell you're not close with Ron like you are with Harry. I mean, I love my brother, but you have to admit he's often rather oblivious." There was a long pause while I thought about the impact of my words. Suddenly I wanted the rumors to be lies. I felt a weird twist in my stomach at the thought of them together. Finally, I couldn't help but ask, "So, are you?"
"Am I what?"
"You and Harry. Are you… together?" My voice came out a hoarse whisper.
The abruptness of her laugh startled me. "Ginny, it's not like that with Harry." Her focus on me was intent now. "Why? Were you jealous?"
"No!" I hissed, wondering why I was. I considered them both friends, why shouldn't they be together?
She smiled at me knowingly. "Maybe you don't want to play, Ginny." She said, her voice serious.
"Why wouldn't I want to play?" I felt a rush of excitement and morbid fascination.
"Because," velvet brown eyes flecked with pale green shone, spellbinding. "They'll ask you questions, and make you answer. They'll want to know who you like. By the end of the night, you'll end up telling them."
The slight fear tickling my veins seemed out of place in the body of a girl with no secrets.
I climbed into bed that night with my mind buzzing. I pulled the curtains around me and stared up into the darkness, waiting for midnight. When we had only a quarter of an hour left before the game would begin in an empty classroom, I crept out of bed. My toes found and burrowed into their worn fuzzy slippers in the darkness, protection against the icy stone steps. I was relieved to find Hermione waiting for me where the staircases to the girls' dormitories met. She silently took my hand and led me through the dark corridors.
Occasionally, moonlight spilling through a large window would illuminate her silhouette for a moment, and the thin fabric of her white nightgown revealed the feminine softness of her body, the slight curve to her lower back. I felt awkward in Ron's old pajamas. Even though I was taller than a lot of the girls my age, I looked younger than they did. Their faces had changed in recent months, cheekbones beginning to emerge, but mine was still soft and undefined. While their bodies had started to grow rounder and more feminine, I had grown taller and more slender. I wondered if they would make fun of my slow development.
When we reached the classroom, the older girls were already there waiting. Hermione stood in front of me in the doorway, and in that moment I was very thankful for two things: the reassuring warmth of her hand, and the way her body partially obscured mine from all of those eyes.
Even if I had somehow managed to remain unaware of Jen's reputation, one look at the way every girl in the room oriented herself toward the Slytherin would have revealed to me that she was the one behind these late night gatherings.
Jen's name was one of the first I learned at Hogwarts. She was the object of an intense but unacknowledged obsession shared among most of the female students. We were enthralled by the mischievous gleam in those wide blue eyes, eyes the shocking pale color of a cloud dusted December sky. Though the air around her always buzzed with a strange tension that exuded unadulterated power, her tiny frame and soft curves seemed to awaken protective instincts in everyone she encountered. There were a few vague and wild rumors about the danger of her wrath, but no one I talked to seemed to have ever heard her so much as raise her clear and quiet voice.
Had she closed her eyes gently, she would have almost looked like a little girl, with her Onyx hair cascading like liquid silk, partially obscuring the ivory skin of her face. Her nightgown was a faded pink and not particularly revealing, but something about the way the gauzy lace touched her collarbone made the pit of my stomach drop. Naturally, she was the first to speak.
"Come on in, Hermione. I thought you might bring your little friend with you tonight." Jen's features were small and delicate. Her smile barely showed in the thin pink lips that turned up reluctantly at the corners, but the dimples appearing in the soft flesh of her cheeks flooded my core with warmth.
"Well," Jen said, "I think that's everyone. Shall we get started?" She walked over to the door, locking it and performing a series of spells that would hopefully keep our game from being interrupted or discovered. We joined the other girls, who were forming a circle, cross legged on the floor.
Jen pulled a backpack out from under one of the desks before coming to sit with the rest of us. No one said a word as she pulled out a brown glass bottle and drank from it deeply. She passed it to the girl beside her, who did the same. Hermione and I exchanged a nervous glance as the bottle travelled from girl to girl, until the bottle finally found itself in Hermione's hands. I could see the determination set in her face as she swallowed the first sip, and the clear relief as she took another. She smiled encouragingly and handed it to me.