Warning

Warning: This fic contains mild slash. If you have anything against slash, do not read. Please press the "back" button now before you flame me. Do not flame me just because you are against slash.

http://www.geocities.com/toadawards/FireboltsCorner/firstessay.html - please visit this site if you want more information about slash.

"Playing With Dolls"

by Elspeth Rose

Censor: PG-13

Archive: ask. Email simplythebfg@yahoo.com

*start*

Why is it considered wrong and terrible to be gay? Is it something that began with my playing with dolls?

My mother never supported my sexuality – my father didn't know. Am I really such a terrible, inhumane person? I never meant to be different or controversial. I guess it's just the way I am.

Maybe it began with my playing with dolls. I never had boy dolls, so my female dolls were paired and married. I remember my mother's constant offers to buy me the one doll I needed for 'straight' marriages. I refused. Why, I asked her, weren't my dolls already alright for me to play with?

I never declared my sexuality until he offered to marry me. I said, "Oh, you're a wonderful friend, but please understand, Ron. You see, I'm gay."

He was extremely shocked. He immediately apparated away. I felt terrible, but I knew telling him was the best thing I could do. And not too long afterwards, Harry called on me. He asked me why. "Why, Hermione?" he asked, "why tell us now? What about Ron? Or Viktor?"

"Harry –" I began, but he left before I could finish. I was flattered that the two liked me, but I realized what I was afterwards. Who I was.

And maybe it was my playing with dolls.

*end*