Lately, it wasn't abnormal to see Hermione in the library, hunched over a computer. To those raised outside the Muggle world, it must have just looked like a bi-fold hunk of plastic with a television-style screen and a number of raised keys that could inexplicably access a wealth of information, without the aid of spells or anything remotely magical. But Harry knew what a laptop was. He'd seen them in Muggle coffee shops and on the Dursleys' kitchen table, where Dudley used his for what he called "flash games" and Uncle Vernon ... well, he didn't know what Uncle Vernon did, though he knew it wasn't to Aunt Petunia's liking.
What did confuse Harry was how protective Hermione was of her own laptop. She'd often close the windows of the computer as soon as someone looked over her shoulder or simply slam it shut, saying she "needed to go study." After it was pointed out that she was already somewhere meant for just that, she would mumble that she needed her schoolbooks first and scamper away.
Eventually, Harry and Ron's curiosity was simply too strong to let this go on. And so, Ron lured Hermione away from the computer with the promise of snogging in the stacks while Harry took it to a secluded corner of the library and opened it. On the screen was a simple white window with what looked like a story displayed across it. Harry was alarmed at what he read.
Later that day, Harry got an owl instructing him to go down to Professor Snape's office for a detention he didn't know he had. He grumbled to himself that no one had ever said anything about a detention and he hadn't done anything wrong. Still, at night, he went down to the dungeons and was surprised to find Snape in very little clothing with a bottle of mead.
"Hello, Mister Potter," Snape said seductively. A chill ran down Harry's spine. "Are you ready for your punishment?"
Harry suppressed the urge to vomit and slammed the laptop closed again. He stood to find Ron and Hermione, who were, of course, still kissing. They broke apart and looked at him, guilty but happy.
"Well, Hermione, I've just read what you've been reading for the past few weeks," Harry said coolly. "It's very interesting. And completely disgusting."
"Isn't it?" Hermione laughed. "One of the worst I've found."
"One of the worst what?" Ron asked.
"Read it," said Harry, dragging them back to the computer and opening it. Ron took the computer and scanned the words, soon laughing loudly enough that Madam Pince came over and shushed him.
"What is that?" Ron asked Hermione, several decibels lower than his laughter.
"It's called fan fiction," said Hermione. "And thousands of Muggles write it about us. They read the books, then they decide they want to change what's been written and create what they call pairings. As you can see, Harry, you're often paired with Professor Snape. Sometimes it's you and Draco, sometimes it's me and you." She blushed slightly and continued, "Ron gets paired with Draco, too."
A shadow of a smile flashed across Ron's face. "Really?" he asked. "I mean, ew! Disgusting!"
"It is," Harry agreed fervently, trying to ignore Ron's initial reaction. Harry knew that as he'd grown up in the wizarding world, a Muggle woman had discovered his story and documented it in what she called fictional books. The Muggle world went crazy for them, but anyone who believed the stories were real were dismissed as off their nut. It had never really bothered Harry, since no one important thought these personal details were factual. But this? This was ridiculous.
"How many people do this?" he asked.
"Harry, I already told you," said Hermione, sounding exasperated. "Thousands all over the world. And some of it ... well, some of it is quite good. Obviously, the one I was just reading isn't, but take a look at some I've bookmarked."
And so, despite the Charms exam they had the next day, Harry, Hermione, and Ron whiled away their afternoon reading some of Hermione's favorite fan-written stories. Harry was mystified by the number of people he'd been paired with. Some were logical. Really, who wouldn't think of the possibility of him getting together with Luna? But others ... He shuddered every time he thought of that very first story, with Snape in the dungeons. His morbid curiosity had gotten the best of him and he'd finished the poorly written story. Harry was amazed at a number of things—his own sexual prowess, for one, and how well groomed Snape was. Most amazing, though, and most disconcerting, was how easily Harry could visualize this scenario, among others. And that didn't sit well with him at all.
Meanwhile, Ron seemed to find every part of these stories uproariously funny, even a concept Harry couldn't fathom called "twincest" between Fred and George. And Hermione seemed to gravitate toward the male pairings, which she referred to as "slash." When Harry asked why she liked them so much, she blushed and mumbled something before clicking to a "canon" story about Harry and Ginny. That meant the couple actually existed, and Harry found it to be a breath of fresh air.
After hours of this, the three of them finally got to work on studying for their upcoming test. But Harry, try as he might, couldn't scrub the images from his mind. Draco, Luna, Snape, even Sirius; everyone wanted Harry on an individual basis, and Harry wanted everyone back, however reluctantly. He couldn't help wondering what might occur if he actually found himself in any of the ridiculous scenarios these stories presented. He didn't really think he was attracted to any of these non-canon partners. But if Luna, as the story had described, caught him alone in the Room of Requirement wearing only a Ravenclaw tie, what would he do? And Draco—well, that one was so explicit that Harry blushed just thinking about what the fictionalized version of the slick-haired, grey-eyed Slytherin had done to fake Harry, or Fairy, as Ron had come to call the character. The feelings Harry was experiencing now were far from the norm, and he hoped fervently that a good night's sleep would erase the impact they'd had on his psyche.
But fervent hope can only go so far.
A/N: You may be wondering how Hermione has internet access. Now that I think about it, I kind of am, too. Let's leave this one at "She's a powerful witch," OK?