AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! Written for the IWSC Summer Camp!

Story Title: Blunt, Sharp Words

Activity/Round: Archery- May your arrow fly straight, and your aim be true.

Prompt: Write about getting straight to the point on matters of the heart. (100 points)

Word Count: 1157

"It isn't up for debate." Harry squared his shoulders, daring Hermione to bring out some book or scroll that would unfailingly prove her point. She just bit her lip, though. He could tell that she wanted to argue, and that she wanted to go in circles around this issue until neither of them could think straight, but, for once, he wasn't going to tolerate that. With school, that was fine, and he could even handle it with work. But not this.

"I think you're making a huge mistake." And maybe he was, but since when did anyone else care what he did with his life? If it wasn't prophecy or Dark Lord related, no one else ever batted an eye—even if he said he was going to throw himself off the West Tower. Hermione had always been nosy in the best—and worst—possible way, though.

"And what if I am, 'Mione? What if I'm making the worst mistake of my life? What, in Merlin's name, are you going to do about it?" For the first time since they'd sat down, Hermione went quiet and just stared at him. She was looking at him the way she looked at Ruby, as if he was two years old and had just tried to eat a box of crayons, but he was too angry to appreciate her concern. Normally, he would try to sort through the condescending sort of judgment to find the affection, but not now. Now, he was just pissed.

"I would tell you what I thought about your decision." She looked calm, and rather pale, because it was very rare that Harry lost his temper with her. With Ron, it wasn't that uncommon but with Hermione… Usually, just the thought of lashing out at her made him sick. At the moment, he wasn't sure that he cared whether or not he'd upset her because she'd sure as hell upset him.

"Exactly," he hissed, as if it was somehow a threat. "But you wouldn't do a bloody thing about it because you're not the kind of person who takes people's choices away from them, are you?" Hermione balked even more so at the pure venom in his voice. He hadn't meant to be this harsh on her, and he hadn't meant for this to turn into a fight, but here they were. And he didn't exactly regret it, right now.

"No, but…" she trailed off, because she had no argument and they both knew that she couldn't conjure one that quickly. She was intelligent beyond all belief, but she'd always been less prepared when it came to emotional matters or, Merlin forbid, romantic ones. Besides, they'd both had a few drinks and Harry's magic was crackling in the air because he was more than just annoyed, now, so she wasn't about to push him.

"You're risking everything." Ah, there was the old Hermione. She may not have had an argument, but she would get the last word if it killed her. And she wasn't wrong, honestly, which was what made it so ridiculous for him to sit across from her and simmer in his anger like he was. But, he felt strangely justified in it.

"I know I am." Hermione frowned and, for a split second, she resembled McGonagall handing out detentions with Filch. Harry quickly shook that thought from his mind.

"Listen, Harry," She leaned in closer, like she was about to tell him a secret about himself. "It's not the gay thing. I grew up in a liberal area and I know Ron still has some prejudices there but we're working on it—truly. I don't care that you're gay, and I'm happy for you. You should be able to be with whoever you want, of course, but… does it have to be him?"

God, the way she slurred her voice over that pronoun was almost as bad as the way the Slytherins used to sneer over the word mudblood. But they were twenty four, now, and the only ones with venom in their voices were the self-righteous, former heroes that seemed to poison his life and his decisions. He'd never thought Hermione would be one of them, though.

"Yes, actually, it does. It has to be him, Hermione, because I'm not coming out as interested in men, I'm coming out as interested in him. I'm happy with him." Hermione's frown deepened. Harry wasn't sure if it was because she'd been drinking alongside him tonight or if it was because of the stress at work but she looked older and somehow less like his friend. That was ridiculous, of course, but he couldn't stop the thought. The more she frowned at him, the less he felt like he could actually reason with her—with any of them—and that felt like a death sentence.

"And I'm glad that you're happy, truly, but… Malfoy? He's a Death Eater for Merlin's sake! Not to mention how he was at school. Are you sure it's even healthy for you to be around him with so much history between you two?" That did it. Maybe it was the last straw on a pile of little digs and maybe it wasn't actually even that harsh but Harry couldn't help it. His self control shattered. The empty pint in front of him cracked without being touched, and Hermione faltered. It was too late for empty apologies or for logical conversation now, though.

"Yes, Malfoy! Because you don't even know him anymore and you're judging him like he's still that sixteen year old kid! You were a right menace to be around for our first few years but that didn't stop me and Ron from giving you a second chance! And yeah, we have a past but there's so much I never told you… I never told anyone. So what if you don't like him? I like him!" Gone was the meek, surprised expression in Hermione's face. She looked livid, and she had every right to be, but Harry didn't care. If she was going to stomp all over his happiness, then he was going to throw it right back at her.

"Well," she huffed, clenching her hand into a fist. "I hope you're happy with your choices." She stood, tossing a few coins onto the table, and she was halfway to the door before Harry could swallow his rage enough to speak.

"I am happy, for your information! Because I'm in love with him, and I have been for years! I'm happy with him and I like the life I'm building with him because it's mine! It's my choice, for once, and not some bloody obligation or prophecy! Because he loves me, Hermione, which is more than I can say for you or Ron!" She slammed the door to the pub, leaving the other customers to stare in silence. Harry smashed her pint for good measure before wordlessly repairing them and Apparating back home to Draco.

Thanks so much for reading!