What Hermione Granger Wants (That HP Hasn't Got)

Chapter One:

The Million-Galleon Question

It was warm for mid-September, but the fresh blue sky and bright sun served as the perfect weather to welcome home the students who had returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after another gruelingly idle summer break. The school grounds seemed to sparkle, as if they had been dashed with some magical cleaner in preparation for the special day - the rolling grounds were brightly green, every hedge and tree trimmed to magical perfection, and the lake shimmered quietly as even the Giant Squid would not disturb the peace and beauty of homecoming.

All day, students had been arriving. Now the corridors of the ancient castle once again thrummed with the sound of students' voices, as trunks were magicked up stairways, housemates greeted, and plans were busily laid for the most adept way to hijack fifteen cases of butterbeer from the school kitchens for the house welcome-home party. (Er...okay, that was generally just happening in Gryffindor...and it's totally off the record as well, understand?) As the clock ticked towards the last arrival of the Howarts Express and the Opening Feast, students were busy in all corners of the castle, unpacking, catching up, gossiping, and whatnot.

Hermione Granger was just as busy, but it had little to do with the fact that she had arrived on the late train, and now only had a mere half hour to settle in before the feast began. After all, Hermione could have handled that with ease - though she was rarely on the late side for anything - using a simple hovering charm, and some of the handy unpacking spells she had looked up upon her holiday to Italy that summer (which her mother had been quite pleased with). In fact, within minutes of her arrival, her unpacking was finished, and she was already attempting to make her way through the Gryffindor common room with the intent of having a quick look in library before heading down to the feast.

Fate, however, had other ideas.

Hermione had just been making her way inconspicuously through the common room, her eyes set on the portrait door, when the object in question picked that precise moment to leap open and spill forth a tumbling dervish of gangly limbs and flaming hair - Ronald Weasley. The boy (who apparently had not yet finished his unending series of summer growth spurts) stumbled to a halt, gasping breathlessly, in front of Hermione.

"Ron!" she exclaimed happily, beaming. She was about to approach for a hug, when she caught Ron's expression and stopped. "Ron? Is something wrong?"

"It's - Har - ry," Ron gasped, in between breaths, "just - heard - news." Hermione blinked at him for a moment, uncertain of what to say, but when she realized what Ron was talking about, she immediately rushed forward with a torrent of explanations.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said, "I didn't have any time to owl you. After it happened, my parents just whisked me off on Holiday and I've just returned. I didn't want to make an owl fly the distance from Italy to England - besides, I figured Harry would tell you." She frowned. "He didn't, then?"

Ron shook his head, suddenly aware that several of the students who had already finished their unpacking and were now socializing in the common room were now looking on in apparent interest.

"He didn't even mention it!" Ron exclaimed. "I just heard from Lavender Brown."

"If I would've known..." Hermione began.

"I know," the boy said. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

The girl looked at him for a moment, looking oddly reminiscent, and then her face broke out into a familiar, certain smile.

"I'm fine, Ron," she assured him. "We're still friends...it just..." She stopped, looking around. The students grouped around the kitchen blueprint (the official house-warming committee) had stopped their intense discussion of house-elf security and were now listening intently. Hermione lowered her voice. "It's just that..." she cast a glance around. They leaned to hear. She went lower, "it's just that...Harry and I can no longer date each other."

She had not been quiet enough. The whole common room burst suddenly, like a bubble exploding at the hands of gravity, as a murmured swell of amusement, disapproval, and tabloid-worthy interest found vocal expression. Hermione sighed. You could almost hear the whirring of brains, the stretching out of lips, as the Gossip Queens of Gryffindor prepared for their first - and perhaps biggest - challenge of the school year - spreading the word around that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were no longer together, before the beginning of the feast. She exchanged a look with Ron. It was no use trying to keep it a secret - they'd know soon enough. That was the drawback of living in such close quarters with your classmates - there was no change left unnoticed.

"I don't understand," Ron fumbled, looking at her. "Why?"

Hermione frowned, unnerved by his question. For a moment, she thought of telling him the whole truth, right there. But then she remembered that she would also be telling literally the whole House, and once it got to Lavender, the whole school would know exactly why she could no longer be with Harry. Frankly, she didn't know if she was ready for that quite yet - or rather, if she would ever be ready for it.

"It's just..." she tried, "there's something...that I want...that Harry...just doesn't have." To say it was vague would be an understatement. Ron looked at her strangely.

"You're still friends, though, right?" he asked. She smiled.

"Of course," she said. "That will never change." He beamed.

"Then let's hurry up - we only have ten minutes to find him before the feast starts, Hermione!" he exclaimed. He grabbed her by the hand. "And you know we have to get good seats for the Sorting, mum says I've got some second-cousin-once-removed coming in and I'm to report back everything about it..." He stopped when he saw her forlorn expression, and asked in concern, "What? Is something wrong?"

"It's just..." she said sheepishly, "I was planning on stopping by the library."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Merlin," he exclaimed as he dragged her happily towards the portrait door, "you'd think an entire summer to stick your nose in a book would be long enough, would you...?"

*

She had not said it quietly enough.

Within five minutes of Hermione and Ron's disappearance, the 7^th Year Girl's dormitory room was buzzing. Heaps of robes and garments, bags and suitcases lay strewn about the four-poster beds, abandoned as a group of girls sat cross-legged on Lavender Brown's bed, voices raised in an excited cacophony. The group was mottled in terms of years, but all the Gryffindor girls had one very important thing in common: they all were practiced in the art of social communication. From Gossip Queens, to Quidditch ladies, to the just downright popular and influential, the group formed a powerful circle of representatives from all corners of Hogwarts social divisions. The atmosphere was one of bubbling excitement, but rife with tension, as the girls waited for the meeting to start and traded versions of the already spreading rumor with each other. Hanging back a little from the chattering circle, the tall, dark-haired Jemma Fawcett, a 5^th Year who served as a Chaser on the house Quidditch team, shoved her hands in her pockets and looked over at her companion.

"This had better be good," Jemma said, drawing a hand out of her pocket to glare intensely at her nails, a deadly shade of indigo. "I have far better things to do than run to the every beck and call of Lavender Brown."

"Tell me about it," Ginny Weasley replied.

Ginny had grown up from her days worshipping the Boy Who Lived (To Break Her Heart, as she had once bitterly dubbed him). She was taller now, and no longer a little girl. Her body may not have been as pornographically ample as some in room, but she was strong and casual in her grace, which was in itself impressive. Once the gangly, saucer-eyed tag-along little sister, she had slid easily into the ranks of Hogwarts' most successful females, and once she had gotten out from under the shadow of her brothers, proved herself to be quite an asset to the House team as a Beater with an almost impeccable record. If her heroic service to the House had not bought her a ticket to this most exclusive meeting, it would have been her easy influence and popularity she had with all of the students. She had more than a right to be present to witness the historic movement of Gryffindor ladies - but it was characteristically Ginny to not give a damn - and express it openly. Her body language now made sure that everyone in the crowded room knew that she took it entirely for granted having received word of this prestigious affair - standing apart, slouched back against a bed post next to Jemma, her head cocked slightly with cool impatience to the side. She drummed her fingers on her knee.

"What do you think of the color?" Jemma asked, displaying her nails. Ginny let her blue eyes rest on them for a moment.

"Nice. What's it called?" she asked.

"Midnight Duel," the dark-haired girl replied. Ginny's lips turned up slightly as if smiling.

At that moment, a hush fell over the room as the bathroom door opened, and Lavender Brown, draped in a shimmering pansy-pink robe, stepped out, flanked by her aides (or "minions" as Ginny hissed secretly to Jemma), 4^th Years Karen and Emily Ipsing. Everyone in the room stopped whirring to watch Lavender move into the room and sit regally on her bed.

"Girls," she started, waving her hands. "I trust you have all heard by now."

"Is it true?" someone called out.

"Is what true?" Ginny snapped from the back. Everyone turned. "Not all of us having nothing better to do than follow the grapevine." She raised an eyebrow and looked at Lavender, who flinched and gave her a sour glance.

"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter are no longer together," she said. Everyone - save Ginny and Jemma - gasped softly for effect.

"I was there!" one of the Gossips exclaimed. "She said...you'll never believe...she told Ron that Harry doesn't have what she wants!" There were a few obligatory snickers at the phrasing innuendo, but Lavender waved her hands imperiously and shushed everyone.

"Anyhow, if we could please not have any interruptions," she looked pointedly at the back, at the two Quidditch girls. "You all know we have work to do. This is big news. And, as the socially informed of Hogwarts, it is our duty to answer the Question of the evening - nay, the year! - that being, of course, what does Hermione Granger want that Harry Potter hasn't got?" There was an immediate hush as people contemplated.

"For Merlin's sake," Ginny exclaimed loudly. "This is ridiculous." As everyone watched, she looked at Jemma. "Let's go, Jem. Harry wanted to discuss training schedules with us before the feast." Jemma nodded, and shoved her hands back in her jeans.

"Sorry, Lav," Jemma snickered, "but we've got...you know...business." With that, the dark-haired girl turned and made for the door. Ginny paused behind her friend to give Lavender a seemingly penitent look, and then followed, snatching her sweatshirt off the bed as she walked.

Before leaving, she turned, Jemma already in the hall, and pressed back against the door.

"If you're lucky," she said teasingly, "maybe we'll get him to sign an official press release for you." She raised her eyebrows. "Good evening, ladies." And without a backwards glance, she left.

Chapter Two:

The Ginny Inquisition

Hermione breathed deeply as she stepped into the empty library, which was as silent and chilly as a tomb on this first day of school, and let the heavy oak doors slide shut behind her. After helping Ron find Harry, she had managed a quick excuse about Head Girl duties, allowing her to slip off for a quiet moment before the feast. It was about time - she hadn't had a moment to herself since the train ride. First, in a rare burst of tardiness, she had missed her planned trip, and was forced to take the latest ride in, and the train ride was spent sorting out Head duties and talking to Prefects. After that, there was unpacking, and of course, Ron. Hermione's stomached flip-flopped, remembering her and Harry's awkward reunion moments ago. It wasn't that they held any bitterness - no, quite the contrary, their breakup had been extremely amicable - but there was so much now that they knew about each other, things they hadn't ever had the courage to tell Ron...and it made her feel guilty, as if she had betrayed him with Harry. The whole situation - him having to hear from Lavender Brown, of all people - was embarrassing enough. She tried to ignore it now, but she just couldn't seem to shake the guilty feeling in her stomach.

"Evening, Hermione," a female voice said, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione whirled around, and saw Parvati Patil standing casually in the doorway she had just come through, closing the door softly behind her.

"Oh, hey, Parvati," Hermione said, laughing a bit. "You frightened me a bit there. I thought I was alone here." There was something about the other girl's eyes that unsettled Hermione, as she moved from the doorway to face her.

"Congratulations on getting Head Girl," Parvati said. Hermione didn't like the way she said it. She wondered if the other girl was jealous - but Parvati had never even been competition academically, so any dreams she had entertained about getting Head Girl were slightly ridiculous. She realized as the thought passed through her head that it was on the malicious side, and recounted quickly. Shaking herself, she smiled modestly.

"Well, thanks," she said, shrugging. "It was a bit of a shock." Parvati's eyes narrowed.

"No it wasn't, Hermione," she quipped. "The Governors had you as shoo-in from the moment you first stepped off the Express." Hermione was taken aback.

"They did?" she stammered. "How...how do you know?"

"My father's on the board," she shrugged. "He tells me everything." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Because, you know, information - it's what separates the have's from the have not's."

"Funny," Hermione said sarcastically, not liking at all where this conversation was going, "I always thought that was supposed to be determination, or drive, or hard work, or talent." To this, Parvati just raised her palms plaintively.

"What can I say?" she said. "I didn't make the rules, I just play the game." There was a thick pause, as Parvati hoped her meaning sunk in, and Hermione stared at her quizzically.

"Odd," Hermione said, shrugging it off, "well, I really should be going. Have loads to chat about with Harry and Ron, you know..."

"Harry," Parvati said. "He's a keeper, Herm, he really is." Hermione blinked.

"No, he's a Seeker." Parvati gave her a queasy look.

"I meant in terms of relationships," the girl replied. Hermione smiled slightly, and shrugged.

"So did I."

*

The night waned. The Sorting had come and gone, and in its succession came the feast, which was, as usual, riotous, and the Gryffindor table almost broke its own record for Consuming Copious Amounts of Butterbeer at a Feast, until Hermione broke in and put a stop to it, threatening house points. Ron, Seamus, and Dean looked as though someone had rained on their Sunday parade, and became very sour while Hermione lectured them on overindulgence while some starved in the world, until Jemma returned with news that the Butter-beer heist had gone off without a hitch. That cheered everyone up, but not Hermione, who in addition to having her authority flouted was still brooding over her strange encounter with Parvati. Funny girl, she thought as she watched Ron and Dean putting Dungbombs underneath the first years' seats, that was probably one of Lavender's shenanigans. I really shouldn't have announced the breakup in front of everyone. Queer what she said about 'information', though. I don't know how that all figures into things.

Down the table, a pair were having similar thoughts about Lavender Brown. Jemma and Ginny sat surrounded by the other Quidditch players, bloated with Butter-beer and laughing, as Ron's Dungbomb hissed and fizzed underneath one first year's chair. As usual, Ginny was holding court, but in the back of her mind, she kept on remembering Lavender's meeting. She knew she had royally pissed the other girl off - and that was never a good idea with Lavender. But Ginny wasn't exactly a lamb when it came to social war - besides, it had to be done. The girl was just getting too nosy for her own good.

She slouched back taking the opportunity to cast her glance down the table and at its occupants. A few seats down, Ron was scurrying back to his seat next to Harry, who was involved in a conversation with Christian Spinnet about his plans for practice schedules. Hermione sat on the other side of Ron, laughing in spite of herself behind her hand, as the bombs began to go off, startling the first years. Then there was Seamus, Dean, Neville...it faded a bit to third years, and then there were the Queens, sprawled in their glory as they swerved their narrow eyes over the hall. Lavender was in the middle, her hideous robes in rancid pink pools around her, and at her sides were the Ipsing sisters, and Parvati Patil. They seemed engrossed in some deep conversation, Parvati waving her hands, and Lavender looking, as usual, very smug. Ginny tilted her head to the side, straining to see what the Ipsings were doing. It certainly was not a social chat - all four looked somewhat disgruntled, though Ginny did not believe that it was possible to pry that slimy, self-satisfied smirk off Lavender's face, no matter what the trouble.

"Does Brown look a bit peevish to you?" Ginny asked, leaning back towards Jemma. The dark-haired girl flashed her eyes down the table, and rolled her lips thoughtfully.

"Definitely. Something must have gone wrong with the Hostile Takeover of Harry Potter's Love Life," she said. She looked on for a few more moments before returning to admire her nails, which were now a ghastly shade of blood red. "Kind of makes my day, seeing her like that. Bad color, right?"

"Unless you're going for the Bride of Frankenstein look," Ginny shrugged. Jemma nodded, and reached into her robes. She drew out her wand, and tapped her nails impatiently twice, uttering something under her breath. The red faded, and was replaced immediately by a tropical blue.

"You need to do mine sometime," Ginny said, in slight admiration.

"Take a look at my palette later, then," the other girl replied. She looked up, and visibly flinched. "Oh no, here comes trouble."

Ginny reluctantly followed her gaze down the table. Lavender was now rising, making a big show of swirling her sickly robes as she turned on her heel and flounced through the aisle, heading directly for them. The Ipsing girls looked nervous, but Parvati had the smile of a crooked cat bloated with warm milk - an expression that Ginny had assumed Lavender had a patented trademark on.

"No denying it, she's coming for us," Ginny sighed. "What's she want?"

"To murder you with her own hideous claws," Jemma answered. The red-head grinned.

"Sorry, I meant, what does she want that she thinks she could possibly get out of a confrontation with me?" There was no time to ponder it further, as Lavender was now approaching the Quidditch team, stopping right behind Ginny Weasley. She tapped politely on her shoulder.

"Ginny, dear, can I have a word with you?"

Ginny, who had not yet turned around, now looked up and gave her a glance. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to apologize." Jemma was so startled she stopped tapping, and her nails stopped halfway between tropical blue and hospital gray - making a slimy sort of swirl that reminded Ginny of cleaning toilets.

"For what?" she asked, frowning.

"For being such an inconsiderate imbecile today," Lavender shrugged. "I was so ridiculous, and you made me realize that. I'm utterly sorry, and hope you'll forgive me." Ginny raised her eyebrows but the girl paraded on. "I mean, of course you should have been consulted first - you, after all, are the closest contact we have to Harry and Hermione. I made a grave mistake and totally disregarded you, didn't even have the decency to let you lead the mission...and for that, I am so, so sorry."

Ginny looked at her.

"You think I'm jaded because you didn't let me order around your pack of hyenas to snoop in my friends' personal business?" she asked incredulously. Then, soaking in sarcasm, "Oh, gee, Lav, I'm touched by your sincere apology. Now I'll help you steal my brother's best friend's diary!"

Lavender's expression changed, but the effect it had on her appearance didn't quite help. Now she pursed her lips, apparently affronted, and muttered something about "always being difficult" and her sincere attempt "being totally disregarded". Jemma smirked, and studied her newfound color, trying to fish a proper name for it out of her head.

"Fine," Lavender said, "if that's the way you want to be. And I was prepared to let you clean up for Parvati's blunder and drill Hermione yourself. You'd be the perfect candidate, but I see you don't quite appreciate the value of connections, and wouldn't understand anyhow." She took a deep breath, apparently winded from her ordeal, and continued. "You think you're so high and mighty, Princess Virginia, but the truth is that I know what I am doing - I'm staying on top. And if you continue with this...this utter nonsense...you'll end up falling to the bottom! Understand?" She leered. Ginny laughed.

"You going to make me do lines?" she asked. Lavender seethed and looked as if she was going to turn away. "What's Hermione to you, anyway?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean?" Lavender asked hotly.

"Why are you so keen on finding out what Hermione's got to say about it? How do you know it's not something silly and useless?"

"I have a hunch," Lavender said, a satisfied smirk settling on her face briefly. "And besides, it's smells fishy." Ginny leaned back and looked at the other girl for a moment.

"Okay," she said finally. "I accept." Lavender spluttered, as did Jemma.

"What?" they both exclaimed.

"I said I accept," Ginny replied, "I'll pick Hermione's brain for you. If there's anything interesting," she added as an afterthought, "which I doubt there is." Jemma stared in disbelief, not even caring that her nails were now swirling into a sickly chartreuse. But Lavender's startled expression was slowly changing, from confusion, all the way to self-satisfaction. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with smugness.

"Glad to have you back, Virginia," she said. Then, looking a bit uncertain if there was anything else she should say to take advantage of the opportunity of actually having a civil conversation with Ginny Weasley, she gave the two girls a fleeting smile, and flounced back to her seat.

Jemma narrowed her eyes.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"If Lavender Brown thinks Hermione has something worth keeping a secret, especially if it involves Harry," Ginny explained, "then I want to find out myself. And if it really is worth hearing, maybe I can stave off her den of vipers from spreading it all the way to the Prophet."

"What makes you so sure this isn't just one of her silly ideas?" Jemma asked.

"Because Lavender mentioned that Parvati had screwed up her interrogation," Ginny replied. "Which means Hermione must have something to hide - otherwise, knowing innocent Hermione she'd have spilled her soul to the wretched girl."

"Your opinion of Hermione is confident..." Jemma said sarcastically.

"Look, don't get me wrong, Hermione's sweet, and really, really smart. But she doesn't know those girls, and after six years of living in the same room as them, that can only point to a very dangerous social indifference. It can get her in trouble - and it has. She's got all the facts, it's just she isn't so great about knowing whom to dish them out to," Ginny said, waving her hand. "But if it's something big - truly big - she'll know." On an afterthought, she added, "Unless Parvati was being her true creepy self, which is very possible. That would scare anyone into silence."

Jemma snorted, but Ginny was already looking down the table distractedly. The dark haired girl followed her gaze down past Harry and Ron, to where Hermione was just getting up, saying goodnight to her friends.

"Right, this is my chance," Ginny said, getting up. She took her wand off the table and slid it into the pocket of her robes. "If I'm late for curfew, cover for me okay?"

"All right," Jemma nodded. "But do you really think Hermione Granger would be caught anywhere outside her room past curfew, even if you are pulling a Spanish Inquisition on her?" Ginny grinned.

"Well," she said, "things might not go as planned." She left Jemma with a wicked salute, and headed off towards the corridor, where Hermione had just vanished behind the door. As she passed her brother and his friends she waved a quick goodnight, promising Harry to speak to him first thing in the morning about Quidditch, and hurried out of the Great Hall.

By the time Ginny had bounded up the first flight of stairs, Hermione was heading passed the empty classrooms towards the portrait. Ginny broke into a run, coming to a quick halt behind the other girl just in time to save herself from careening into her.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. To her surprise, Hermione jumped at the sound of her name, and whipped around. When she saw Ginny, she smiled in relief, and wiped a palm across her brow with a sigh.

"Merlin," she exclaimed, "you scared me. Seems people are just popping out of the woodwork today."

"Parvati?" Ginny asked, narrowing her eyes. Hermione looked slightly bewildered.

"Yes..." she answered. "How did you know?" Ginny tilted her head in a nonchalant manner.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "Come with me." Hermione followed wordlessly as Ginny picked an empty classroom. Once they were inside, Ginny closed the door, and sat down on top of one of the desks.

"Do you know why Parvati followed me to the library?" Hermione asked, when they were settled.

"Yes," Ginny said. "But I thought you'd already have guessed that."

"I suppose it has something to do with the dratted breakup," the other girl said reluctantly. Ginny grinned.

"Bingo," she exclaimed. "Full marks for that one, Ms. Granger." Hermione sighed.

"I just don't understand what is so fascinating about Harry and I, that everyone has to know everything we do," she said, looking forlorn. She kicked her legs against the sides of the desk as she spoke. "I mean, I know Harry's a hero to people, but it's really not that interesting."

"I think it is," Ginny said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You do?" she asked incredulously. "Really, of all people, I'd have thought you would have stopped treating Harry like a celebrity by now..."

"That's not what I meant," the other girl said, waving her hand. "I meant that I have a suspicion that it is interesting, but you're lying to cover up." The brunette girl stared back at her in stunned silence for a moment, taken aback by her frankness.

"I...well...that's not..." she stammered. Then, gathering herself up and pressing her lips together firmly, "Ginny, it really isn't any of your business."

"I understand that," Ginny replied evenly. "But for your own good, I still wish you'd tell me. Parvati - she wasn't curious on her own and..." Ginny trailed off meaningfully, and Hermione nodded.

"Lavender Brown," she said. "Yes, I rather suspected that." Ginny let the silence hang in the air for a few moments, before tilting her head to the side to look at Hermione.

"Look," she began, "I've known you for a while now, and you're a really brilliant witch, and a great person. And I've known Harry as well. But I'm not so thick as Ron, to take your vague-ass answers seriously. The thing is..." she paused and took a breath, "...I haven't gotten over Harry quite yet, and with this whole thing...well, you know...but there's this voice inside me that keeps saying that if you - who is so perfect for him - can't stick it out, well, how much hope can I have for myself?"

Hermione's expression softened, and she smiled a bit sadly at the younger girl.

"That's sweet that you still like Harry," she said. "But I really think you ought to drop it, Ginny."

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say he's not interested."

"In me?"

"Precisely," Hermione nodded, giving her a look. Ginny looked thoughtful.

"Well, that makes sense," the girl shrugged haplessly. "You've got far larger breasts than I've, and after you, I don't see that a girl with a body like mine could..."

"It's not about breasts, Ginny," Hermione said. "It's definitely not about breasts." Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"He's gay, then?" It was less a question than a comment. Hermione threw up her arms in surrender.

"I didn't say a thing," she insisted. Ginny looked at her darkly.

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul," she promised. "But, Hermione, there's something else."

Hermione paused. She had been in the middle of sliding off her desk, thinking the discussion was over, but now she reluctantly climbed back up, looking slightly confused. Ginny had a strange expression in her eyes - slightly predatory - as she leaned forward and scrunched her eyebrows at Hermione quizzically.

"The thing I don't get - well, in the common room, you said something about him not having what you wanted," Ginny said. "Not the other way around."

Hermione froze.

"Did I?" she asked, looking like she had gotten a paper back with a less-than-perfect mark. She swore she could see the corners of Ginny's mouth turning up in a smile of satisfaction, though the shadows could have been playing tricks on her eyes.

"So say my sources," the red-head acknowledged.

Hermione felt a strange shiver run through her as she raised her eyes to meet Ginny's - which were the oddly exhausted blue color of an October sky on a sunny day. She shook herself, flustered.

"Well, I was obviously just spouting off - you didn't expect me to really tell everyone in the House about my romantic affairs, did you?"

Ginny slid off her desk.

"I don't think you were just spouting off."

She looked at Hermione, tilting her head, and the brunette felt her resolve diminishing rapidly.

"So what is it that Hermione Granger wants," Ginny asked, "that Harry Potter hasn't got?" Hermione froze in place, her stomach clenching with a sickening squelching sensation. She felt very odd, lightheaded, as the red-headed girl stepped forward, breathing, smiling. She tried to shake herself, but all she managed was an involuntary tremor, at which Ginny put out her hand and held it to her arm, an expression of knowing concern on her face.

There was a slight snick of metal, but Ginny was too close, and Hermione couldn't think. The red-head lowered her voice to whisper, coming closer...

"I think Hermione Granger," she said sympathetically, "wants exactly what Virginia Weasley...wants..." She stopped, and raised her head, her face a mere inch from Hermione's, their breathing misting together invisibly. Hermione watched, paralyzed with fright, as Ginny leaned in, their lips touching and...

The door swung so violently it hit the wall of the classroom with a bang, and a strangled gasp interrupted the two girls' conversation. Both of them filled with unmistakable dread, they looked up, to see none other than Lavender Brown standing in the doorway, gasping, the shell-shocked expression on her face not quite overpowering her smug self-satisfaction as she heaved breathlessly,

"I knew it," she proclaimed. "Hermione Granger is a lesbian!"