CW: Teenage sexuality; violence, gore
Hermione had learned about dating from her mother, who had explained to her that there were four main different kinds of dating:
1. There was "dating", where you went out on dates with a person. The date itself was the focus, here – you were asked out, and you went on a date. Dating someone was just that – going on dates as individual excursions and events – and people casually dating were free to date as many people as they wanted.
2. There was "going steady," at which point a couple who had been on several good dates together decided they wanted to exclusively date one another. It was at this phase couples promised each other monogamy, Hermione's mother had told her, even if they were just teenagers with their first boyfriend.
3. There was "getting serious," where a couple started discussing the future together, seriously analyzing and figuring out what they wanted from the rest of their lives, and potentially the rest of their life together.
4. There was "becoming engaged" and then "getting married", where a couple decided that yes, they did love each other enough to spend the rest of their lives together and did want the same things from their lives as each other. This was promised with a ring and then cemented and celebrated with a wedding.
(Her mother had also dryly emphasized that after getting married, the married couple wasn't supposed to stop dating, to which Hermione's father had loudly protested that if one half of the couple decided to take evening clients three days of the week, regular dates were almost impossible, and then Hermione had left the room before the bickering really started.)
The wizarding world didn't work on muggle dating levels, though. Sure, there were traditional wizarding romances, which involved grand gestures and formally 'courting' someone publicly – Daphne hadn't even been kissed by her beau until he was formally courting her – which seemed the most equal to either "going steady" or "getting serious". But outside of that, Hermione had no idea. The emotional intensity she felt with Fleur felt indicative of a Level 2 or 3 relationship, and yet their relationship seemed to stay at the Level 1 of "dating" logistically, given Fleur could not give her a commitment while she was trapped in the tournament.
Hermione was also "dating" Viktor. That one was at least easier – they literally went out on dates. And yet, despite being in two uncommitted 'relationships' and free to do as she pleased, part of Hermione squirmed when she thought about it. She'd been okay earlier in the year, but now it felt odd. Was it because she was sexually active with two people at the same time, that it felt different now?
That must be it, Hermione decided. Even though she wasn't doing anything wrong, she still felt like… like some deviant, loose woman. Like some sort of hussy.
Like… like she was a slut.
Hermione's mother had done her best to emphasize that female sexuality was nothing to be ashamed about, and that so long as Hermione was careful with her physical and emotional safety, she should not be ashamed. She told Hermione about the feminist revolution and the spread of birth control and premarital sex, emphasizing that these were good things, things that helped reduce sexism in society, and that 'slut' was a term used to denigrate women for being open about what they wanted. Hermione had listened to her mother, accepted a book her mother gave her by Gloria Steinem, and resolved to go back and ask her mother about it all again when she was older than nine.
So Hermione remembered her mother's lesson. She did remember, she really did. Intellectually, she knew that there was a double standard when it came to expressing sexuality, and women were shamed for it far more than men, and it would take proud, unafraid women to change that standard in society, women strong enough to stand up for what was right.
But emotionally… when Hermione overhead Lavender Brown gossiping to Parvati Patil in Transfiguration that Sally-Anne Perks had been caught giving Wayne Hopkins a blowjob under the Quidditch stands, the slut—
—the scandal in their tone, the denigration, the judgement—
—Hermione had felt a bolt of cold fear, followed by a fervent desire for her own sexual escapades to never, ever make it to the gossip stream, so no one would be calling her a slut.
Maybe Sally-Anne was a better feminist than she was, Hermione pondered over dinner, looking over at the Gryffindor table. Sally-Anne never seemed beaten down or to care what anyone else thought. Even now, she was talking to Dean Thomas and the Irish Gryffindor boy, gesticulating animatedly as she told some story, utterly uncaring of the judgmental looks her dormmates were giving her. Hermione envied the other girl's confidence.
Hermione knew her mother would tell her that if Hermione wasn't mature enough to take responsibility for her decisions about sex, she wasn't responsible enough to be having sex. But Hermione didn't really care what her mother would tell her, if she asked for advice – she cared about a way to continue fooling around with both Fleur and Viktor without anyone else finding out about it, because she liked it, and it was fun – but she just wanted to find a way to keep on without feeling like such a slut about the entire thing.
Not for the first time, Hermione wondered if there was a potion that could be brewed to reduce a person's libido, something she could take so her hormones wouldn't feel so out of control. She'd come across ones intended to raise a person's sex drive, especially in the fertility books she'd researched, but not the opposite. Hermione couldn't bear the thought of asking Snape for one, either – she'd melt into a puddle of embarrassment right where she stood. All it would take is one arched eyebrow from him, and she'd just die of mortification.
Hermione's distraction and preoccupation with remembering feminist literature her mother had quoted at her years prior distracted her through dinner. She was still preoccupied with these thoughts as dinner ended, and Hermione mindlessly got up with her classmates, still dwelling in her mind. She walked through the Entrance Hall toward the stairs to go back down to the Slytherin dorms with the others when someone called out, "Hermione! Wait!" and without thinking, Hermione paused and turned, only for her heart to freeze as her eyes went wide.
It was Cedric Diggory.
Of course it was.
Cedric looked like he'd run after her as she'd left the Great Hall, a bit out of breath and his hair tousled. His eyes were earnest, relieved when he saw that she'd stopped, and Hermione sighed, straightening herself and mentally girding her loins.
"Cedric," she said coolly. "How can I help you?"
Cedric's eyes seemed to drink her in. There was a desperation in them, an odd intensity that caught Hermione off-guard.
"It's been a year and a day," Cedric said hoarsely. "Hermione…"
"I'm still in a coven, Cedric," Hermione cut him off. "I'm still a 'Dark witch', according to you."
"You're not," Cedric pleaded. "I didn't know—I've been learning about ritual magic, Hermione, and I take it all back—you're not Dark—"
Hermione felt Viktor take a step up behind her, standing just behind her back, a steadying presence as Hermione stared down Cedric. It was ironic, she mused – she was Dark now, at least partially – but she suspected revealing that little fact to Cedric publicly in the Entrance Hall was not the best way to handle the situation.
"Cedric," she said tiredly. "Cedric, even if you've changed your mind, your father never would. Your family never would."
"I don't care," Cedric insisted. "I don't care what they'd think. Forget my family, forget the world – you are my world."
That was probably a very romantic thing to have said to you, Hermione thought dully, if it was said by someone you wanted to have saying it to you.
"I'm not," Hermione snapped. "Cedric, it's been a year. I've moved on, Cedric – you should too."
"I can't," Cedric pleaded. "Hermione, you haunt my thoughts – I've relived that day I said those things so many times. I can't even express to you how much I regret it—"
"Regret can't change the past," Hermione informed him, eyes flashing. "Maybe you should have listened to me. Maybe shouldn't have mouthed off about magic you didn't understand."
"But I understand now, Hermione," Cedric emphasized, taking a half-step towards her, his voice urgent. "I understand the power of ritual magic. And I respect it. And I'll prove it to you."
Cedric took another half-step towards her, pulling a silver knife from his robes, and Hermione's heart stopped as several things happened very fast:
1. Viktor leapt in front of Hermione and cast a Disarming Charm at Cedric;
2. The Disarming Charm missed, as Cedric had fallen to his knees and chanted something, before plunging the dagger into his side;
3. Lavender Brown screamed, the stupid bint, which made everyone start screaming;
4. Cedric, eyes clouded with pain, began to pull a rose made from blood out of his hemorrhaging guts, and;
5. Hermione realized that someone, at some point, had cast the Imperius Curse on Cedric Diggory.