Title: Reactions
Author: Hieiko
Category: Harry
Potter
Pairing/Characters: Hermione/Pansy
Disclaimer: I don't
own HP, or any of the characters.
Word Count: 380
Notes:
Written for the
31_days_exchnge,
for
rhap_chan's
theme # 30, "in a phase".
Summary: Hermione's new
relationship draws different reactions from friends.
Pansy enjoys referring to it as our "deep, dark secret". Except that there is nothing deep or dark about it. Nor is it much of a secret since there are already six other people who know the truth. And while they've all had diverse reactions, none of them protested very much.
Ginny thinks I'm being rebellious. "Maybe it's a phase," she had commented. "You just think all the guys are too immature." I hadn't even deigned to respond to that.
Harry reacted decently, thank goodness for him. "If you're happy, Hermione, then it's fine with me," he had said. And that was such a relief to hear from one of my best friends, let me tell you. (Even though he doesn't say so, I know he's confused by my choice. But at least he respects my decision.)
Ron, on the other hand, was mad at first because it took me weeks before I told them about Pansy. Apparently, he had gotten it into his thick head that I was involved with Malfoy because of all the time I'd been spending around Slytherins. Honestly! While I no longer hate Malfoy to the core of my being, I still find him terribly annoying.
Speaking of Malfoy, the ferret had the audacity to laugh when he found out. Pansy said that when she'd told him, he just started laughing. She thought it was because he believed it was a joke. But no, he said it was because she had "horrible taste in women". Lucky for him he's Pansy's best friend, or I'd have hexed him to next year.
Vince and Greg-- that is, Crabbe and Goyle-- also know. Because Malfoy told them. Unlike the ferret, though, they didn't insult me (they feared Pansy's wrath).
"You love that journal more than you love me," someone says from behind me. It can only be Pansy. "Is that your Muggle journal?" she asks, looking over my shoulder. "Are you complaining about Draco again?"
"You're not supposed to read it!" I snap the notebook shut. "That's not nice."
She rolls her eyes. "So? I'm not nice."
"And you know it."
"Oh, stop talking," she says, and then her face is an inch away from mine. "Kiss me," she demands.
It doesn't occur to me to say no.
