"Stop fidgeting," Susan said. "You'll make me muck up and have to start all over."
"Or we could just stop there. I look much better already," Hermione said, fighting her instincts to dodge out of the way of the eyelash curler.
"Nope. Not going to happen," Susan replied. "We follow the pact."
Hermione was not a fan of the pact. A few of the girls were once again jealous of Fleur Delacour, who had been a surprise camp counselor when they'd arrived a couple of days ago. It was just like fourth year, a bunch of girls now battling for the attention of the boys over Fleur's natural (and somewhat unnatural, with her Veela heritage) allure.
The cliquer parts of the girl's camp had banded together, agreeing to pull out all the stops today at lunch. A far skimpier outfit had been forced on Hermione and her bunkmate was tasked with getting her dolled up, despite her complaints that she really didn't care for making herself pretty just for the boys.
"So," Susan said, continuing her makeup work and raising her eyebrows playfully, "anyone you think you want to drag up to Makeout Point?"
Hermione flushed. It hadn't taken long for an outcropping of rock over the lake just to the edge of the camp to become a frequent spot to find people hooking up. There was already gossip on who was visiting with who, and Hermione would rather keep other people's noses out of her business.
Still, she supposed she wouldn't mind attracting the attention of one redhead in particular.
Susan smirked, taking Hermione's silence as answer enough.
When the bell rang for dinner, Hermione's hair was curled and framing her face, her makeup drawing attention to her hazel eyes. She was, Susan claimed, looking 'perf'.
The girls camp sauntered under the dining gazebo as one group, drawing the attention of all the boys that had already sat down for the meal. Hermione picked out Harry from the crowd, rolled her eyes at him over it all and got a grin in response. She searched for Ron too, but didn't see him, which surprised her. He wasn't the sort to miss a meal.
"Afternoon ladies," the french accented voice cut through her thoughts as the girls gathered on one long table. Several glares were levelled at Fleur as she arrived, but the woman kept her smile up despite the hostility. "Food iz already being served, so if you're staying in building A or B, you can collect now."
A few of the girls stood, going to gather plates and cutlery. Hermione toyed with her hair, still searching for Ron among the crowd, still unable to spot him. She crossed her arms, then brought her hand to her mouth, about to bite her nails when Susan slapped her hand away.
"I'm not doing those nails again," she said, teasingly.
Hermione let out a little nervous laugh in response, glancing at the ground. "Thank you, for all of this. I wasn't feeling it, if I'm honest, but it's nice to be doing something with just the girls for once. I feel like usually I only ever hang out with Harry and-"
"Help! Someone, please," a voice called from the far end of the gazebo.
Everyone's attention turned to spot Ron, dismantling Neville from his shoulder and dropping the boy onto the bench at the end of the table. There was blood on Ron's hands, but he didn't seem hurt.
Neville, however, was in a real state. His front was covered in blood and his face was contorted in an unreadable expression. He was shaking, quivering, making it hard to tell what had happened to him, but it looked like he had suffered a pretty serious wound.
Hermione stood up from the table, but didn't get a chance to see more as some of the camp counselors gathered around Neville, checking him. The worry over Neville quickly vanished. With magic the camp counselors would be able to deal with whatever had happened without issue. By the time she reached Ron they were already hauling Neville up and rushing him to get first aid.
Hermione came to a stop just behind Ron, who had watched Neville get carried off. She suddenly felt horribly self-conscious of how much skin she had on display, that she had more makeup caked on than she would normally wear in a whole week. She didn't have her frizzy hair to hide behind, or a book to turn her attention away from anything, or anyone.
"Hi Ron," she said, then paused to make her voice not so horribly high pitched. "What happened to Neville?" She asked, glad that her voice was behaving again.
"He got caught by this thing. Had horns, charged him," Ron said, not turning around, still watching Neville get dragged away. "Shit. We didn't even go that far from camp."
"That sounds awful," Hermione said. She reached out, her hand finding his arm. It was warm. She hoped he didn't say her hands were too cold. "I- They'll take good care of him. You should come eat. Get yourself some food, we can sit down and eat together. You can tell me what happened."
Ron finally looked round, glancing over the tables and other campers. He met Hermione's eyes and she let out a shaky breath.
"I don't want- I should really go check on him," Ron said. "I might be able to help."
He doesn't want to. He's not interested.
The traitorous voice whispered in the back of her head as her stomach sunk. The excuse sounded fake to her ears, knowing that Ron didn't have any medical skills that could help.
She forced a smile onto her face, determined to hide the hurt. "Okay," she said, her voice annoyingly chipper. "I hope he's feeling better soon."
Ron left. He didn't look back.
Hermione bit her lip as she sat back down, ruining her lipstick in the progress. She didn't care. She would do this if it meant she could keep the hurt off her face.
Stupid. She knew that Ron wasn't interested in her. She was a nerdy bookworm, someone to help out with homework. Nothing more.
Fleur was at the table again, said something Hermione didn't catch.
People stood up around her, chattering away to one another about inane, pointless things.
Susan prodded her. "Our house, Hermione. Come on. Grab some food."
Hermione stood up again slowly, falling to the back of the queue.
The queue moved forward and she didn't move with it. She wasn't hungry.
She wasn't hungry when she walked out of the gazebo.
She wasn't hungry when she climbed up the hill overlooking the camp.
She wasn't hungry after an hour of crying over a stupid boy.
She was hungry when she woke up hours later, the sun already set. She stirred from her impromptu post crying-nap from the sound of two people moving around nearby, murmuring to each other.
The disorientation only lasted a few seconds before she got her head on straight. She climbed up to this spot to have some peace and quiet away from everyone else, but it was later now, and this was Makeout Point. Two quiet voices nearby meant one thing.
She ducked down against the rock, her body flush against it so she was hidden in the darkness. She held her breath, sure that she was about to be spotted, about to be called out and ridiculed for coming up to this spot, alone, trying to hide from everyone.
Footsteps fell mere feet from her, but no-one said anything to her. She heard clothes rustling, the sound of two people settling down and sitting on the rock face.
She waited, holding her breath as best she could, the only noise being the whistling of the wind and the slight buzz of the morning air. A few moments later she could pick out the murmuring of the two people again, more rustling of clothes- she could imagine the spot was fulfilling its namesake.
Thinking that the two might be distracted enough, she slowly raised her head, peeking slowly over the edge of rock she was hiding behind, spotting the two figures silhouetted against the moonlight. They were interlocked, entwined in one another, one shorter figure with long hair, another with shorter hair, their arms wrapped around the body of the other. It was dim enough Hermione couldn't make faces, but that didn't bother her. She was far more interested in getting out of there without being spotted.
She began to crawl backwards, her feet pawing for footholds as she reversed, keeping her eyes on the two in case she needed to duck back down.
The taller of the two was pressing themselves against the other, hands roving, but the longer haired one moved their hands away onto their back again, then their shoulders when they began roving again.
The hands kept exploring and the longer haired one broke away from the kiss. "Stop," she said, her voice stern and louder than anything they'd murmured so far.
Hermione froze, sure for a moment that the instruction was directed at her. Her breath caught in her throat.
After a moment that stretched on for far too long, the two's lips connected again. Hermione breathed again. She glanced back and saw that she was nearly clear of the rock now. When the grass and soft earth was below her again she would be able to move quicker.
She heard a slap. Turned back to the couple, saw the girl leaning back again, her hand in the air.
"I said stop," she said, her tone more mocking and disapproving than angry. "If I wanted you to touch, I would have said so."
"You think you're in charge here?" the other said, a boy's voice.
The girl sighed.
Then she pushed him.
Hermione couldn't help but gasp in the silence that followed.
Two seconds later she heard a splash. Then a few seconds after that, cursing from the lake.
"Who's there?" the girl said, her attention no longer on the boy she'd shoved off the overhang to the water below.
Hermione hesitated, keeping low, wondering if she could stay hidden, whether she should. Then, she decided that she wasn't going to be able to hide, there was no way she'd be able to sneak off, even in the dark.
She climbed to her feet, trying to make out the girl's features now that she was revealing herself. "It's Hermione," she said.
"Ah. Granger," the girl responded. She turned back to look back out over the lake and camp.
Hermione stepped closer, making her way back up the rock to the edge of the overhang again to join the girl. She crested the rock and was granted the sight of a figure climbing out of the water at the far end of the lake, fully clothed and sopping wet, beginning the trudge back towards the camp.
"It's Daphne, right?" Hermione said, coming to stop beside the girl.
"Greengrass, yes," she said. "You enjoy the show?"
"I didn't- I wasn't planning on being around for anything happening up here," Hermione said. "I tried to get away when I realised someone else was coming."
Daphne was quiet for a moment. "Are you going to sit down? I won't push you into the water, I promise, unless you try to cop a feel."
Hermione laughed uncomfortably. She glanced at the girl beside her, but Daphne was still watching the boy making his way back to his building, her arms wrapped around her legs that she brought up, knees to chin.
Hermione sat down.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Daphne replied. "Can't wait until I'm getting called bitchy tomorrow though."
"Uh, why would-?" Hermione began to ask, then came up short. She had just watched Daphne push a boy off a cliff.
"It's bull. Like we're not allowed to decide what we want," Daphne said. "You know they've got a nickname for me. Ice Queen. Just cause I won't put out for these-" she struggled for the words.
"-bundles of hormones?" Hermione suggested.
"Ha," Daphne said without humour. "They're definitely not men."
The two of them fell silent.
The wind whistled. Hermione shivered, shuffling a little closer to Daphne, hoping that she might help block the cold from the unprotected spot.
"Why is this Makeout Point?" Hermione asked, exasperated. "The wind makes it cold, the rock is hard and uncomfortable. The only thing going for it is the view."
Daphne shrugged. "I guess you don't get cold with someone else close."
Hermione glanced back in the direction of the boy. He was gone, inside now, she supposed.
"I don't know why I came up here," Daphne said. "I really should have known. We know what they're like at school. I swear, these boys are barely worth the effort." Daphne looked at Hermione for the first time, a smile on her face like they were sharing a private joke.
Hermione couldn't help but return the smile. "You might be onto something there."
They kept the look for a long moment. Then, Daphne tilted her head a little, her expression shifting to something curious.
Hermione's headspace was somewhere else entirely when Daphne's lips met hers. The kiss was over before she'd even registered it was going to happen.
"Um." Hermione's cheeks burned red. She turned away from Daphne, her fingers going to her lips.
She discovered the half ruined lipstick of earlier and wondered for the first time what she must look like right now. She'd been crying, her makeup was probably a mess and she had been sleeping on a rock for hours.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," Daphne said. She didn't sound sorry.
"Is this more of you- deciding what you want?" Hermione asked.
Daphne smiled, and it was the realest smile she'd ever seen on the girl. "Don't flatter yourself too much, sweetie. It was just a kiss."
Just a kiss.
Just my first kiss.
For the first time, Hermione wasn't thinking anything. She couldn't really puzzle anything out. There was no input, no problem, no textbook or information to parse and store away. It was unnerving, made her unsure of what was really going on in her head.
She flailed in that nothingness of her mind for a moment, then righted the ship. There wasn't a rush of thoughts again, but there was a plan. Her plan, the one that she always went back to. Whenever she wasn't sure of something, she could fall back on it.
Research.
"Can I have another?"
Daphne looked surprised.
Still, Hermione was ready for the second kiss.
She was ready for the rest of them too.
She was ready when Daphne told her that she wanted to be touched.
She was ready to say no when Daphne offered to return those touches.
She wasn't ready for the smile Daphne shone at her when they broke apart a while later.
"That was- good. Fun," Daphne said, still smiling when they had reached the buildings where their bedrooms were. She kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Be seeing you, Hermione."
As she walked back to her room, she decided that she liked just kisses.
"Hermione," Susan said as greeting as she got back to her room. Then, a moment later, "you're blushing."
Hermione felt her cheek. It was pretty warm. "I guess I am."
The corners of her lips turned upwards. She really couldn't help if the grin that slipped onto her face looked dumb.
When she woke early the next morning, she had more energy than she expected. Susan had pestered her about those blushes and grins for far later into the night with nothing but cryptic responses to show for it.
Maybe she spent a little more of that extra energy on makeup and hair that morning than she normally would. Maybe she borrowed and wore shorts and a tank top from Susan that she otherwise wouldn't wear.
Maybe she noticed Daphne's blush when she spotted Hermione that morning at breakfast.
Maybe she liked it, too.
Still, not everything had changed. Since the girls hadn't set out with the express intent of upstaging Fleur this morning, they weren't all sitting and eating together like yesterday, so Hermione left some seats open beside her that Harry took when he arrived. Ron was, once again, conspicuously absent. Hermione didn't search for him this time.
"Morning," she said as Harry sat down.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said, glancing over her. "I like the outfit."
"Thanks," she said. "I figured we're not at Hogwarts, so I should stop treating my clothes like a uniform."
"Hermione Granger, breaking her own rules! Whatever next? Will I see nifflers flying if I look out the window?" Harry asked.
She frowned at him. "I'm not breaking rules! I'm just making up new ones."
Harry chuckled. "Well, I'm glad. You work hard enough at school, no need to here, too."
Most of the other boys around them fell silent, something that occurred every day at the breakfast table, the lot of them rousing from their half asleep state.
Hermione gave Harry an exasperated look, making him laugh.
"Morning Fleur," Harry said as the part Veela walked by the table.
"'Ello, 'Arry," she replied, continuing to walk down the aisle.
"Boys," Hermione said in a mock disgusted tone.
"We're not all hopeless," Harry said.
Hermione's eyes roved over the rest of the male populace. She could see a few of the boys had retained some semblance of control, like Harry and Dean Thomas, but it was still disappointing. "Statistically speaking though-"
Soon they were done with their breakfasts and were off doing their own daily camp activities. Hermione was pulled away from her schedule after lunch by Fleur and back to the dorm rooms to sort out a newcomer to the girls side of the camp.
Hermione had been puzzled, confused why someone would arrive four days into the week long trip but all of that had been cleared up when she met the person in question.
It was Neville.
Or, was it 'had been Neville'?
Hermione still recognised the facial structure, the short straight hair that had stayed mostly the same, if now a little longer. Neville was still a little pudgy, but most of that weight had gone to their hips and- breasts. Neville had breasts. Their legs were- not slender exactly, but far more defined than before.
"Neville?" Hermione said once she had a moment to take in the figure sitting on the bottom bunk of an unused room. "What happened to you?"
If there was one thing more recognisable than anything else, it was the way Neville leaned into themself, not wanting to be interrogated, something they hadn't done in years.
Before Neville could say anything, Hermione was by their side to comfort them, abandoning Fleur at the door. "Hey, it's okay. I'm just- surprised. Is this about what happened yesterday?"
Yesterday felt like a long way away. Crying about Ron. Neville's gory wound. Watching the boy go over the edge of Makeout Point.
"Ha, uh, well yeah," Neville said. Their voice was high pitched. Hermione really should have been expecting it, but she blinked in surprise anyway. "What I got hit by was magical and it had side-effects." Neville looked down at themself. "Pretty significant side-effects. The camp counselors- uh, haven't reversed it yet."
"There's been a long talk about it by ze camp counselors. Whether Neville should go back to ze boys camp, whether we should requisition for a new portkey," Fleur said. "Ze decision was made to 'ave 'im stay 'ere."
Neville nodded along with her words.
"Um, are you okay? Is there anything I can get you?" Hermione asked.
Neville shook their head. "Ron's collecting all my things and bringing it over. He's been really great."
Hermione nodded. She couldn't think of what to say.
"We thought you might be able to show 'im around. Bathrooms, common room," Fleur said. She looked at her watch.
Hermione nodded again. "Yeah, of course."
She looked at Neville again.
"I'll make sure Neville gets what he needs," Hermione said, looking at Fleur. She tried to project confidence and must have succeeded because Fleur nodded at her and left the room.
Neville relaxed visibly. "Hey, Hermione. Guess this is strange," they said, their voice a little brighter.
"I suppose," Hermione said. "We've had the odd adventure though, they tend to have all sorts of consequences."
Neville reached out and held her hand, a comforting, friendly gesture. Hermione smiled, glad that Neville wasn't spiralling out over this change.
"I'm sure Ron and I can tell you all about it later," Neville said.