Warnings: Femslash, f/f. Twelve-year old in a relationship with a fifteen-year-old.
I own nothing. The title is from a shirt, I think, that I saw on CafePress dot com.
Hermione skipped as she entered the library, making a distinctive slap-tap-tap-slap sound—her signal that she was alone.
Today, though, as eager as she always was to have her summons answered, she actually had an urgent reason to be at the library.
As usual, a dark braid appeared around the corner, and Hermione grinned.
"Hi, Penny! Listen, do you still have that magnificent book of magical creatures checked out?"
"Yeah," replied the fifth year reflexively. "I think I'd fail my Care of Magical Creatures O.W.L. without it. Listen, Herm—" But Hermione, not listening, ducked around Penny and easily found the table where the older girl had spread out her O.W.L. studies. Penny rarely left the library anymore. Hermione made a mental note to study just as hard for her O.W.L.s when the time came. Penny had said not every Ravenclaw was as studious as she was—and as the castle assumed—some were smart enough to pass their exams with barely any effort. That wasn't true for Hermione. Oh, once she learned something, she'd never forget it, but it took in-depth reading, thinking, and yes, studying before she'd learned it. Simply skimming the textbook, as Harry did sometimes, never worked for her. She'd learned that in Muggle public school before she turned eleven, one humiliating day in class when she was supposed to give an oral presentation about Queen Victoria and hadn't prepared at all until the night before. When she'd stood up in front of her class, everything she'd read had flown out of her head. It had been the most humiliating experience of her life. Now, Hermione flipped through the book and came across the passage she'd wanted. The Basilisk. She read it over, twice. The roosters, yes, the spiders…it all fit! But how was it moving about the castle?
"Spiders flee before it…" she muttered out loud.
"Flee before what?" asked Penny. "We could use one in my house, whatever it is. Spiders live in the walls, it's awful. Herm…"
Harry had heard the voice in the walls!
"In the walls?" said Hermione, trying to sound unconcerned. "How'd they get there?"
"I dunno. Pipes, probably."
Pipes.
"Hermione Jean Granger, will you pay attention to me?"
Hermione looked up, startled.
"I need to tell you something," said the beautiful Ravenclaw, ducking her head in a most un-Penny-like way. "We need to stop doing whatever it is we're doing."
Hermione froze.
"A-Are you breaking up with me?" she faltered finally.
"To break up with you would require us being girlfriends," said Penny quietly. "What we do…this fooling around, kissing, well, it's fun, Hermione, but I want to be faithful to Percy."
"P-Percy?" Merlin, she was starting to sound like a parrot.
"Hermione. You know I have a boyfriend."
But I thought you were gonna leave him for me went unsaid.
"You swing both ways, too, I know you do," continued Penny. "Find someone your own age. You're twelve, Hermione. You're too young."
"Only three years," muttered Hermione, staring blankly at the book in her hands.
"Three years won't make a difference in ten years, or, Merlin, even five, but now it's too much."
"You said I was smart for my age. Mature."
"You are. You're the smartest Gryffindor I know. So you should know you're too young for love."
Get a grip, Hermione told herself. The word basilisk jumped out at her from the book and she blinked and steeled herself. There would be time to cry later. For now, she had to warn Harry before someone else got Petrified…or worse, died.
"Just one last favor, then," she said, proud of the way her voice didn't tremble. "Can I borrow this book?"
"No, I need it for my exams."
Hermione whispered a quick apology, then, pouring out her hurt and anger, ripped the page out.
"Hermione!"
Facing the girl she thought had loved her, Hermione spoke.
"Penny, this is about life and death." A thought coursed through her. What if she died? Apart from the sheer horribleness of that thought, she had to live long enough to get the information to someone.
"Make that two favors," she said, grabbing one of Penelope's spare quills out of its inkwell and scribbling Pipes on the paper. "Do you have a compact on you, Penny?"
Perhaps Penny felt badly about stringing Hermione along, because she lent her the mirror that saved her life and followed Hermione from the library, trying to explain further. When she woke up in the hospital wing, she saw Penny staring sadly at her from the next bed, over Percy Weasley's shoulder. But Hermione had had enough of girls and their empty promises, and she looked away.
She swore never to swing that way again.