It was third year, and Hermione had begun to notice changes, mainly in herself. She'd grown into a young woman over the course of one summer, developing body parts she'd previously wished for and admired – as well as beginning something that she'd very embarrassingly had to speak to her Aunt about (Petunia had asked if she was sure, if 'her kind' even got them). Luckily, the… supplies… were easily accessible at Hogwarts, courtesy of the female teachers keeping the girls' bathrooms well-stocked.
Not only were there changes in her body, but she noticed changes in her perception, as well. Her gaze was consistently drawn to her female classmates and elders, but she felt a little ostracised at night, when the other four girls would sit up to talk about boys, asking Hermione what she thought.
Honestly, she just wasn't interested in boys.
Clarity had come when she'd decided to go to Madame Pomfrey about it – 'she may be only a nurse,' Hermione had thought, 'but perhaps she'll be able to help anyway.'
The healer had become nervous and flustered as soon as Hermione brought it up, blabbering something about Professor McGonagall and ushering her away. So, Hermione took the rather scattered advice and went up to her Head of House's office instead.
"Unfortunately, I am afraid I know nothing of these matters, Miss Granger… But I can connect you to someone who does," she'd smiled, setting her hand on Hermione's shoulders and leading her towards the Hufflepuff commons.
Hermione had frowned a little in confusion, but allowed herself to be guided anyway.
"Professor Sprout should be in her office, dear. I do hope you find the answers you are looking for," Minerva smiled before walking away.
That was back at the end of September. Now, Halloween had just gone by, and Hermione knew something about the Herbology professor that she was sure no other students did: Pomona Sprout was happily married to her muggle, childhood-sweetheart. Pauline.
Having a teacher to talk to about everything she was going through, about everything she was feeling, made Hermione feel incredibly secure. Professor Sprout was helping her to arrange her thoughts and find words and phrases that she identified with, if any. She'd been advised that it would be a long and arduous process of self-discovery – but hey. What's a sexuality crisis when you've already beaten Voldemort three times?
Hermione's first 'girlfriend' was Luna Lovegood, third year, around Christmas.
It all started when they'd bumped into each other in one of the tiny corridors that led to and from the Potions classroom. They'd stepped side to side, awkwardly trying to pass each other, as a lock of mistletoe grew itself above them.
Hermione had blushed profusely when Luna placed a chaste kiss to her lips.
They didn't really date, not properly.
What they did do was regularly meet in the darkest and farthest corners of Hogwarts' library. Their kisses would start out slow and gentle, but would turn hurried and passionate in just minutes.
The pair both stayed at Hogwarts over a Christmas break, a time when the House commons opened up to students from other houses. As Hermione was the only girl left in her year, she invited Luna to join her in her dorms on Christmas Eve.
Hermione had her first sexual experience that night.