Wow I have not updated in a long time. Sorry.

Chapter 4

Hermione was feeling...well, depressed.

It had been four days since her failed attempt to win Ronald Weasley's heart. In her opinion, it was really Ron's fault for taking everything as an insult. But Hermione was a smart girl, and she knew she couldn't sit around and mope forever or she would never find herself a flamin' hot bag o' love!

Thinking in a Scottish accent (admit it, you do too sometimes) brought her mind to the task at hand. The task at hand was slightly taller than her and had a really cute accent, and his name was Seamus Finnigan.

The magniloquent mademoiselle reflected with a sigh that to seduce Seamus would be the first non-completely awkward try so far. Maybe she was just making excuses to get over the humiliation, but relationships with Harry or Ron would, she decided, have felt incestuous.

She got off the armchair, refreshingly motivated to go to Herbology—Seamus would, of course, be there! And she could think of few places better to make a move than the misty, quixotic greenhouses…

Twenty minutes later, Professor Sprout was describing the vivisection of a porous wood anemone, which the class would be performing in groups of two or three in several minutes. As the class received their anemones, Ron remarked, "Blimey, this looks complicated. I'm glad you're in our group, Hermione."

Harry stared whining about his scar. "My scar hurts. I—I think Voldemort is trying to possess me." Everyone ignored him.

Hermione said cheerily to Ron, "Oh, about that. I'll be working with Seamus and Dean today."

Ron's response was a cacophony of mild obscenities expressing his displeasure with Hermione's emigration from the group.

Hermione ignored this and made her way jauntily to Seamus and Dean, who had just obtained two pairs of tweezers with which they would carry out the operation.

"Hello, boys," she said cheerfully, setting her things down beside her. Seamus and Dean stared at her for a moment, then recovered and greeted her perfunctorily.

"Hi, Hermione."

When she did not say anything, simply stared at the boys with a contrived smile plastered across her face, Seamus asked, not impolitely, "Do you need something?"

Hermione arranged her features in what she hoped was a look of innocent feminine charm and exclaimed, "Who, me? I'm working with you two, silly!" She paused for only a moment to reflect that the "silly!" thing had not worked before. "Dean, be a complete dear and get me some tweezers."

Dean and Seamus exchanged a glance that Hermione missed. Dean shrugged and stood to retrieve a pair of tweezers. As soon as he was gone, Hermione whispered conspiratorially to Seamus, "Are you using the Confundus charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?"

Seamus had not been endowed with the faculty of discretion and, as such, was unable to keep from blurting, "Hermione, are you hitting on me?"

Hermione, who had not expected the conversation to go this way, felt the color rise to her cheeks. Seamus's cheeks were similarly tinged. Unbeknownst to our disgruntled debutante, however, Seamus's color was the physical manifestation of the mental frenzy of thought in which his mind was presently engaged. He was, in other terms, attempting to think of some excuse which he could apply to terminate the bushy-haired femme's interest in him—forever. It wasn't that he didn't like Hermione, it was just that…well…yes, it actually was that. She was…nice…but really not his type. He decided to relay that precise sentiment, albeit without hurting her feelings. Seamus was really a very nice boy.

His plan was to mumble incoherently until she left. "Hermione," Seamus began, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen them, "I can't go out with you because mumble mumble."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Mumble."

"What?"

Damn. His plan was, incredibly, not working. Seamus had forgotten how socially retarded Hermione was. He thought fast.

"Um…I'm gay," he lied hastily, and then added as a precaution, "Don't tell anyone, please."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said sincerely. "I didn't know. But I want you to know," she said, awkwardly laying a hand on his shoulder, "that I support you fully and I believe that you are every bit as normal as I am, even though you may occasionally engage in homosexual activity!"

It took Seamus a few seconds to realize that Dean was standing directly behind him, taking in every word of Hermione's soliloquy with a look of increasing discomfort.

"I slept in a tent with you!" he exclaimed, aghast.

Seamus tried to mollify him by winking to show that he was lying, but Dean took this the wrong way.

"And now you're hitting on me?" Dean said loudly.

Hermione felt awkward. So did everyone else in the greenhouse, because they were all listening.

"And you!" Dean shouted. Hermione started; Dean had spun around and was addressing her.

"Me?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"You!" he said. "What did you do, put some sort of—gay spell on him?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Seamus.

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, offended. The Ministry of Magic had recently started disposing of criminals by magically making them openly gay and sending them to America.

The situation was spiraling downwards.

But then—thank god for the enormous, deadly, magical creature attacking people at Hogwarts!

At that moment, the door to the greenhouse opened and Minerva McGonagall (not the aforementioned creature) entered. She strode without hesitating to Professor Sprout and spoke quietly to her for a few seconds, then clapped her hands twice to get the students' attention. In a brisk and somewhat tense voice, she said, "All right, students, kindly return to your dormitories immediately. I will be joining you shortly to explain."

This diversion conveniently ended the increasingly awkward chain of events taking place in Greenhouse Number 1.

As she left with the rest of the students, who were now wondering why classes had ended early, Hermione accepted the failure of her third plan. And fourth, she reflected; Dean Thomas, who had been the next person on her list, was no longer a likely candidate.

Next on her list was Neville Longbottom…she wasn't sure of she would actually follow through with that one. Neville's nice, she thought, but I can do better.

She'd have to make a decision before she started on that one. If she decided to go through with it, her next mission would be Neville Longbottom. If not, it would be Fred Weasley.

One thing was certain, though. Things were going to get interesting. She needed a plan. She needed structure. And she needed a little bit of magic.