Author's Note: I wrote this for the amusement of muffinypowers, who has been singing the lyrics to "There! Right There! (Gay or European?)" from the musical Legally Blonde to me for a couple of weeks now. It wasn't really intended to be posted, but she thought I should share.

"Hermione, they think I'm gay!"

Hermione Granger-Weasley staggered sleepily from her bedroom to the open Floo, hair standing up in every direction. She squinted just a little blearily at the familiar glowing head in her fireplace. It was just past midnight, which was far too late for any sensible witch with two pre-Hogwarts aged children. "Harry, aren't you supposed to be an at Auror conference in New York?"

"I'm hiding in the men's room."

Hermione paused. "There's a Floo connection in the hotel men's room?"

"I have a mobile Floo, and that's not the point. Did you hear me?"

More pause. "I'm kneeling here with my head in the fire and you have a MOBILE FLOO, and you're gay. Where in the world did you get...?"

"I. Am. Not. Gay. We were at dinner, and suddenly the American Aurors all started smirking and winking and nudging for some reason. They think I am." The face in her fireplace looked around frantically. "Where's Ron? He's not listening, is he?"

"Ron is sleeping, and no. Harry, you're not making any sense. Why would the American Aurors think you're gay, for goodness' sake?" Hermione tucked her knees under and pulled her robe around her more tightly, trying to get into a comfortable position on the floor. She hoped this wasn't going to be one of those long friend-counseling sessions, as fascinating as it was.

"Something about my being fit, and my hair being all dramatically tousled...Hermione, my hair is messy, not tousled! It's always been messy!"

She nodded semi-encouragingly.

"And I don't have chest hair and they think I wax, and they said I have a cute British accent, and something about my socks!"

She considered. Yes, Harry did have a thing for silk socks. Something about his underprivileged childhood, no doubt.

"And my uniform is tight!"

"Harry, all Auror uniforms are tailored. It's not just yours." They looked fabulous, too.

"They were leering!"

Her knees were getting sore. She was so going to grill him about that mobile Floo when he got home. "Harry...you have a wife and three kids. Don't you think you would have noticed by now if you were gay?"

"Yes, but..."

"Harry. You're not gay. You're European."

"I..." He paused. "What if I'm gay AND European?"

"I'm going to back to bed, Harry."