Life isn't a Gay Bash

How did YOU choose your sexual preference? I shook a magic 8 ball.

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Life wasn't a bed of roses. Or maybe it was. Wild roses that were beautiful on the outside but were hidden with sharp thorns just waiting to cut into you. Or dead roses.

Life wasn't a box of chocolates either. Well… for some people it probably was. Eat too much and you got sick. Or maybe a box of expired moldy chocolates.

Bottom line, life had its up and downs. Good and bad, ugly and beautiful. It was taken in many different contexts as well. You looked at something in the terms you thought of it as. What was good and beautiful in one persons eyes was not necessarily so in another's eyes.

Harry learned this pretty quickly even before Hogwarts. All he had to do was compare how his family treated him to how others treated their own family. With exceptions of course. No one is perfect and some are more shallow and selfish than others where others might hold themselves to higher standards.

And a great many just don't care. Or they did but just felt inadequate about doing anything about it or thinking someone else will surely do the deed.

There were layers upon layers into what made people what they were, leading Harry to try to look underneath the underneath and giving him a very open mind when it came to any subject even when he disagreed. (An example was meeting a member of the Flat Earth Society.)

But one thing he knew was that people were hive minded. Sheep essentially. They got an idea in their mind they liked and it stuck there and they told others and it spread like a virus or disease to everything it touched.

Some people were unmarred by the idea thrown at them, but it still effected them on some level, giving them reason to disagree with it.

He was no different. And just like others, had secrets and layers that made up who he was. Not that he let those layers try to cloud his mind with preconceived notions (especially after learning magic was real on a more physical level than he'd realized.)

And so with all this in mind tried to wade through his newest conundrum. His attraction to Cho. She was the first person he'd had a crush on. He'd never questioned his sexual preference on this because he assumed since he was attracted to her this told his preference.

Then they kissed. A chaste salty teary eyed kiss. And that crush evaporated right then and there. Looking at how he typically viewed the world, he probably should not have made that assumption first but he knew that was how it typically worked.

With exception.

Using a logical mind, aesthetically one could look at anyone and find something pleasing about them beyond the exterior. And so he did so. He knew there were other girls in the school he found attractive, some of which while very pretty were just ugly people.

The same could be said for a number of boys as well.

And so the conundrum. While attraction sometimes could lead to love, it was not always the case. And taking the time to compare his own very limited experience with any deep feelings he had to others… was left severally lacking.

He was no longer sure of his sexual preference.

Really, the deepest emotional kinship he felt at all was a deep friendship he had with Hermione, and to a lesser extent Ron. He knew it wasn't love. Or at least it wasn't love as he'd heard it described. Seeing as he'd never actually felt it, he couldn't say for sure.

But then there was that layer. His own layer and many other peoples piled onto it.

Questioning your sexual preference was one thing. Bringing it out into the open was not. Homophobia was very wide spread throughout the muggle world. Those that came out of the closet were often ridiculed their whole lives for it. When you lived in a hidden society lost somewhere in the fourteenth century… it was illegal.

Harry was ridiculed for enough things in his life already without adding to it.

So how could he solve the dilemma of his preference without resorting to deception or depravity? Sure, one kiss with a girl probably wasn't a fair judgment of his preference given most people didn't cry when they kissed.

But since he's been thinking it over and trying to use an inner eye when looking at people, he wanted to say he tried. Being attracted to someone wasn't the same when he knew deep inside he wanted a real fulfilling relationship. He could be content in a school drama relationship, but there would be that nagging feeling wondering if perhaps he tried with another, (same or opposite sex) would it have worked out better?

This was really hard to do when you haven't even had a relationship with anyone yet.

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After weeks of careful deliberation, Harry decided to approach the two people he would get the best response from… Well, he told them he wanted to discuss something with them anyway. Which brought him to the common room at midnight.

To his left stood Hermione Granger. His best friend and someone he trusted not to act negatively toward him in anything of a personal nature. She already stood next to him through thick and thin in the past.

To his right stood Colin Creevey. A year younger than him but still probably the most amiable guy he knew whom had never acted or said anything negatively toward him in all the time he knew him.

Being open minded, he tried to find things about each of them that he found attractive enough to warrant a trial period of testing the potential of a deeper relationship. And the two people least likely to go off and tell the whole school if this didn't work.

"Okay Harry, now what is it?" Hermione glared at him in her nightgown. "I am wasting time that could be better spent either sleeping or re-editing our potions essay-"

Her sentence and even her thoughts ground to a screeching halt as she watched Harry grab Colin by the shoulders, bend him backwards in a cliché' romantic move and proceed to snog his brains out in a kiss that looked to have sucked a few of the boy's fillings out.

So shocked by this that it didn't even register when Harry stood and released Colin, until he walked up to her and did essentially the exact same thing to her.

After a moment, Harry stood and released Hermione, stepping a few paces away from both of them with a contemplative look on his face. If he were to compare these two experiences with what was most commonly described as love, lust or even just attraction…

Grunting, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair before slowing trekking up to his dorm without being a step closer to answering his question. "Maybe I'm just asexual." He mumbled in dissatisfaction.

Completely missing the two love struck stares he was receiving from the common room.

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This is written in response to having to sift through endless reams of boy/boy girl/girl pairing fanfiction, many of which is written by emo and yuppie teenagers with no idea of how actual relationships work.

You'll notice actual relationships do not develop like this.

Which is exactly my point.

A humor romance (Which is what this is) is a parody of actual romance and relationships and not to be taken seriously. So why do people write serious romance as if it actually happened this way? WHY?

A/N: Obviously I bought out Rowling for the ownership rights to Harry Potter.

But then I got bored with it and decided to give it back.