Chapter 1: In Which Hermione Hurls Herself Out of the Closet
The Gryffindor common room was a raucous mess. Candy wrappers littered the floor, music boomed from levitated speakers, and the sixth year class was sprawled over red leather armchairs and cushions, laughing and talking. It was the Friday before the mid-term break, and the excitement buzzed through the group gathered by the slowly crackling fire.
"Harry! Pass me another of those Muggle ring candies! I'm gonna see if Miss Granger will be *hic* my wiiiiiiife!" coughed Ron, around an already full mouth of sugary candy. Hermione snorted.
"Were you listening to me at all last week Ronald? I have no interest in your…" Hermione surveyed the boy, her eyes falling disdainfully first on his stained jumper, then on his holey socks. "Ahem. Glorious...manliness." Ron puffed, a piece of ring pop finding its way from his mouth to the rug.
"See? I'm irresistible!" Harry snorted, and chucked another candy at Ron. Hermione sighed. There were couples stealing moments in corners and corridors right now, and here she was, wasting time with a bunch of silly boys. It had been a year of self-discovery for her, and she knew eventually she would have to tell her closest two friends, even though they were silly and immature. She had started noticing...girls. The way their hair bounced when they laughed, the funny way they gestured when they spoke, with their eyes and hands at the same time. The soft curves of...wait, what was Harry on about?
"...and then Cho wanted to snog more, but I was really thinking about the feast, is that bad? Don't laugh Ron, you know you get distracted sometimes!"
"Not when I'm snogging a cute girl! Even I don't get distracted by food then! I tell you Harry, I had the best dream the other night. Don't judge, but Madam Maxime was my height and young and she wanted to eat croissants! If you know what I…"
"Oh my gosh, will you grow up?" Hermione spat. "Nobody wants your croissant, Ronald Weasley! On that note, why is everything with you sexual these days? I mean, Merlin's saggy asscheeks Ron, you can't even be in the same room with a girl who is a little well-endowed in the chest without turning into a blubbering fool!" Harry rolled on the ground, in stitches. "And YOU!" Hermione turned on him. "Don't even get me started with you Harry Potter! You are like a walking hormone! Gawking every which way like a toddler in a toy store...I see you doing it!" The boys had stopped laughing and were sitting stunned with the rest of the common room, booming music seeming more and more out of place with the mood. Hermione stood abruptly, turned on her heel, and stormed towards the girl's staircase.
"Oi! What did I do?" shouted Harry, throwing a pillow square at Hermione's curls. "I can't help it Hermione, it's called puberty!" There were cheers from the Gryffindor boys, and laughter rang around the tower. Hermione's ears turned red.
"If I can control myself in the bathroom with a bunch of cute girls wandering about, doing their hair in little towels, I think you can control your wandering eyes, Harry!" The mirth turned to stunned silence, as Hermione realized what she had just blurted. Turning a deeper shade of red, she spun, a whirl of curls and fear, up the stairs to the dormitories.
Hermione crushed her face into her crimson pillow and willed herself to cry. She had just outed herself to all her friends, to everyone...she hadn't even told her parents yet. The only person she had told was Luna, who had spouted a very "Luna" response, something about same-sex pairings among Serbian Walumphs and giving her a tight squeeze. She just had to announce to all the boys in her year that she was a lesbian...and then run away! Oh no, what must be going on down there? A celebration of girl on girl action? Most likely, those pathetic horny...ugh. She really hated them right now. Stupid Harry with his stupid reassuring grin, and stupid Ron with his awkward hugs and dumb way of making her feel safe. She wanted her friends back, not the hormonal, boisterous versions who just wanted to talk about snogging and Quidditch. Hermione sniffled, and heard a scuffling at the door. There was a sharp yelp, and she heard the soft thud of someone sliding down the stairs. Stupid, stupid boys! They can't...a slip of parchment poked its way under the door to her dormitory. Swallowing hard, dreading what it said, Hermione summoned it to her.
"A-accio," she whispered, and the parchment floated towards her. She cried even harder when she read the words, scrawled in nearly illegible Weasley script, "I LIKE BOOBS AND SO DO YOU LAST ONE WITH A DATE'S A BIG NUMBER TWO" Hermione snorted with tearful laughter as Harry's scrawl appeared beneath Ron's. "Come out of that dormitory Hermione. You're a professional at that now!" Tears of laughter banished tears of fear as she threw open the dormitory door and slid down the still flattened staircase to loud cheers.
"I'm serious," shouted Ron over the newly jovial din of the common room. "I'm going to help you find a date in this place!" Harry cackled.
"You can't even get your own date Ron! What are you going to do, summon an eligible bachelorette for me? Accio gal pal?" Hermione giggled, testing the waters.
"Aloho-more-than-just-friends-a?" Ron choked on his candy.
"Sapphify?" Harry managed, through an ear splitting grin. Ron managed to squeak a fake spell out through his mirth.
"Wait! What about this? Swish aaaaand flick, Wingardium Lesbiosa!" He gestured wildly with his wand, and there was a loud bang. Purple smoke emitted from the tip of his wand and covered the common room in a thick cloud. Sputtering in the center was the outline of someone who had just been climbing through the portrait hole.
"Ron, what the in the blazes are you doing casting spells at people? Do you look at all where you are going...oh. Hi Hermione, I love your hair this evening. Did you put something in it?" Ginny's eyes stood out like pinpricks of fire in the haze. Ron promptly fell on his backside.
"Hermione...don't...sister...spell...WHAT?!"
