A/N: This drabble was written for round 7 of The Houses Competition
Title: Hermione's dilemma
House: Slytherin
Position: Year 4
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Action] Shaving for the first time
Additional requirement: must be written in first person
Word count: 718
Beta: DaronwyK
I am Hermione Granger. I am very good at almost every type of magic. I can perform correctly 99% of spells. Scratch that. I am capable of performing 99% of school-taught spells, make that 100% of school-taught spells because obviously, Divination doesn't count. There are no spells associated with it and it is nothing but rubbish, but I digress. The point is, I am Hermione Granger, and I can perform more spells than any other student in my year, including Malfoy, who thinks he can beat me at my marks. Stupid Malfoy, like I care what he thinks, like I care what happens inside his stupid, handsome head. Wait. What? Who said that?
Bollocks! Once again, I digress. The point is, I am Hermione Granger and I can perform each and every one of the spells on Hogwarts' curriculum. But life is more than school and now, I find myself at a crossroads. I have to choose between attempting to perform a spell completely foreign to me, without any guidance, or die of heat stroke. This spell is not found in any book in the library, there are no reliable written sources for it. The only source I could find I had to go through a lot to procure it without anyone finding out about it. No one can know I have it. If anyone finds out, I would die. Oh yes, I would die. I would drop dead from embarrassment. I would not be caught dead carrying around an issue of Witch Weekly.
Oh yes. I, Hermione Granger, find myself degraded, lurking around to get my hands on the despicable rag just so I can find out how to perform a shaving spell. Spring is here, and I can't stand the idea of wearing knee-high stockings anymore. We already have to wear a robe on top of our uniforms, plus a tie and a vest. I just can't take it. I need to wear ankle socks, but I can't at least not right now. Since I am one of the oldest ones in my class, I go through every change before everyone else. Last year it was my chest starting to grow, that I was able to keep under wraps with all the layers we have to wear. This year, my legs look like Hagrid's head. I hate puberty.
So I find myself locked in the shower, my wand in my hand, and Witch Weekly levitated in front of me. If I was a regular kind of girl, I would ask my roommates for help, but I can't stand the idea. No way I'm letting Lavender Brown find out about this. Alright, Hermione, you can do this. here goes nothing.
"Radet"
It worked! My legs are hairless, smooth, so…white. I looked back at the Witch Weekly page. There is a tanning spell. Do I try it? Do I risk some weird color covering my legs?
You know what, screw it. I am Hermione Granger. I can do this.
"Aes"
Oh wow. My skin is now a very light caramel color; I look like I spent a weekend in Ibiza. My opinion of Witch Weekly has grown exponentially.
It's four thirty pm and I want to do some light reading before dinner time. I'm sitting at the library, next to a floor to ceiling window. The sun is coming through it beautifully and I'm so happy winter is over. I can sit in this armchair and prop my legs up on the matching ottoman and let my skirt slide a little because my legs are smooth, hairless, and tanned. This is the kind of happy moment I cannot explain to my best friends because they are boys.
Oh no. Draco Malfoy is sitting in an armchair to the side of the room. He has a book in his hands, but he is looking over it towards my side of the room. He's been staring at something for a long time now. What is he looking at? The window? No, that's not it. He seems to be looking at the ottoman I have my legs prompted on. Wait. Is he looking at my legs? No way, or maybe he is. I can't confront him about it though, I would make a fool of myself. Oh well. Whatever. Enjoy, Malfoy.