Truth or Snog

The Gryffindor common room was loud. Harry Potter could tell, as he was quite the observer.

"The common room is loud this evening," he remarked to Ron Weasley, as though he expected applause.

"Such a keen observer, you are," Ron practically shouted over the noise. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Harry smirked and started fiddling with the blazing fire.

"Why does this fire always blaze?" the not-so-bright Ginny asked.

"Go read Hogwarts: a History," Hermione Granger said, not looking up from her Ancient Runes homework. "You might learn to do things other than giggle and blush."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at the studying Hermione and scurried off to her invisible friends.

"Pity she doesn't exactly have friends," Ron said as her popped a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Jelly Bean in his mouth. "She might not bother us if she did."

"Does it really tell why the fires always blaze in the common rooms?" Harry asked dumbly.

"What do you think Harry?" Hermione stared up at the Idiot called Harry.

"Oh shut up you book-whore. OW!"

"Oh I'm so sorry Harry. Was that my book that was just hurled at your face? Oopsie-daisy."

*****

Walking along the corridors of Hogwarts later that evening, Harry thought about his current life situation. It really sucked. Sure, he was being chased the most evil wizard ever known. Sure, his summers were spent being harassed by a large boy filled with fat. But this wasn't the part that upset him. The part of Harry's life that made him want to cry was the fact that he'd never had a girlfriend, but more importantly he'd never been kissed, never snogged with someone in a storage closet, under the bleachers, or anything. He'd never been to the Astronomy Tower with anyone but Ron to do work, and Hermione to deliver a dragon to a few guys. Here he was, fifth year, 15 years old, and Harry Potter had only ever nuzzled with Neville Longbottom, and that involved sleepwalking that he didn't care to discuss.

Harry stopped at the entrance to the prefect's bathroom. He wasn't a prefect; he and Ron got the password from Dean Thomas in exchange for Billywigs that they found in Divination class (that's a completely different story)..

"Antelope," Harry said, and walked into the bathroom. It was worth the Billywigs to use this bathroom; it was an awesome place to sit back in soapy water and think. He drew a deep bath, climbed in, and started to think. Those darn hormones were telling him he'd better kiss someone, or he was likely to go insane. Suddenly, the painting opened and Ron walked in, an angry look on his face. Harry was trying to cover himself up when he realized that no one could see through the ocean of bubbles he'd made.

"Err, Ron," he said, not wanting to upset him too much. "Err, I'm sort of taking a bath."

"I can wait," Ron said, walking back and forth, making sure not to look at him.

"Err, whatever you say," Harry said, contemplating whether to add that it would look extremely odd if someone walked in and saw Harry in a bubble-filled bath with Ron pacing back and forth. "Err, don't you think it might look odd..."

"That little - argh!"

"Hermione, I'm guessing," Harry said as he blew some bubbles from his hand, quickly stopping when he realized how gay that made him look. It was a well-known fact that Ron was in love with Hermione. Hermione probably felt the same way, but she tended to get on his nerves by, well, accidentally "flirting" with people. "What did she do?"

"Oh, you know: 'Oh, Dean, you really shouldn't do that, you know. You might hurt yourself.' I mean, how obvious could she be?"

"What was Dean doing Ron?"

"Attempting to shove himself up the chimney while the fire was burning, but that's not the point!"

"Oh, I see." Harry stifled a laugh.

"And then she has the nerve to touch Dean! Right in front of everyone! That little whore!"

"How was she touching Dean Ron?"

"Tugging him away from the fire so he wouldn't be burnt to a crisp, but she could have had someone else do that!"

More stifling of laughter from Harry.

"I mean, she knows I love her! She knows I shredded my little Victor Crum figurine, and burned the remains, then buried the ashes over the summer. Why doesn't she say anything?"

"Have you actually told her about that Ron?"

"Of course not! I figured she just guessed."

Stifle, stifle.

"Perhaps you should ask her out Ron."

"Oh, so she can flirt with whoever we happen to see when we go out?"

"If they happen to be high on Billywigs and shoving themselves up chimneys, she may 'flirt' with them, but other than that I'm guessing she has the same feelings you do Ron."

"Sure Harry, whatever. Look, I'm going to go get some food from the kitchens. Will you be done in here by 8:00?"

"Yea, I guess. Bye." With that, Ron climbed out of the painting, and Harry began to think.

I need to do something. I need to get those two together so Ron won't barge in on my baths to tell me how Hermione is flirting with Billywig addicts. I need to kiss someone. I need to invent a situation where all three of us will kiss. Wait, that doesn't sound in the least bit right. I'll add another girl. I just need a plan...

And so came about the game that would change four people's lives - no, just their fifth years - for - no, their whole lives, never mind - ever.

*****

"Truth or What?" Ron shrieked the next morning as the two got dressed (not looking at each other, of course).

"Truth of Snog," Harry said, feeling quite ingenious. "It's the perfect solution to our - I'm mean your - problem."

"And what will happen in this game?"

"Ok, you and Hermione will be paired up and I'll pair up with someone. Lavender will do it; she practically runs a business. We'll be in an empty classroom. The rules of the game are simple. Both of the couples take turns asking and answering questions. You can choose to tell the complete truth, or you and your partner have to snog for five seconds. Brilliant, eh?"

"Pretty much Harry," Ron said, stepping out in his clothes. "But how do we get Hermione to play this? She'll probably say it's wrong or something."

"Ron, she's a 15 year old year girl who's head-over-heels in love with you and has probably had as much romance in her life as Neville."

"Hey, Neville did have that nuzzling thing with..."

"We don't talk about that."

"Alright Harry, chill out. Anyway, you've got a point. When are we going to do it?"

"Well, that Christmas concert Dumbledore arranged is this Wednesday. Seems like the perfect opportunity to sneak off, don't you think?"

"Again: I'm amazed at your sudden burst of brilliance."

"Thank you my good friend. Let us now go and breakfast."

"I didn't know you could use that noun as a verb. Cool."

"See, you and Hermione are made for each other."

*****

In case no one was told, Harry told Ron about his brilliant game idea on Monday, so the boys had to wait two days to ask Hermione and Lavender if they wanted to play Truth or Snog with them. Harry explained that waiting until the day they would be playing would put more ease on the pressure. They wouldn't have to go two days looking at each other and think I'll be snogging you in two days. Harry was unusually smart in this fan fiction.

Finally, Wednesday came about, and Harry took the liberty of asking the two girls, to not make the motivation of Ron and Hermione getting together seem so transparent.

"Hey Lavender." Harry was standing against a wall in the hallway, trying to look James Bond-smooth. He'd excused himself by asking to use the restroom ten minutes before class, because Lavender was always leaving class early to go do her make-up, snog with someone in a broom closet, or just because she was bored with the big words she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Yes Harry?" Harry examined her to see if she would do. She had a fuzzy pink barrette in her hair. Pink fuzz outlined her velvet black robes, around her wrists, neck, and the bottom of the robes. The school's seal was done in pink on her chest. Flung over her shoulder was a fuzzy pink purse, matching her barrette. She was stuffing a quill with pink feathers in a tiny pink school bag, outlined with the same fuzz on her purse and barrette. Yes, she would say yes to this. What possible feelings could stop her?

"Well," he said, still trying to maintain the 007 attitude, "Ron and I were thinking of playing a little game tonight, during that boring concert."

"Cool," she said, in a very ditzy manner as she put a slutty smile on her lip-glossed (pink gloss of course) lips. "I love games."

"I thought you did," said Harry. He was completely in the Bond mode, sliding a sly arm around Lavender's feather-adorned shoulders. "So what do you say you meet us in the History of Magic classroom, 6:30, when the concert starts."

"Great," she said, taking the hand of her shoulder and walking away. "I'll be there."

"Damn that was good," Harry said when she was out of hearing-reach, and walked off to lunch to find Hermione.

*****

It is a well-known fact that Hermione likes to spend her lunch studying, so it was no surprise that she wasn't in the Great Hall when Harry entered.. Before dashing off the library, he of course had to do the male thing and boast about his Bond moment with Lavender. Then he had a quick bite of potatoes and carrots and ran to the library, where Hermione was sitting at a desk, Transfiguration books on one side, a glass of pumpkin juice and a biscuit on the other, and a roll of parchment in the middle of the both. He walked in, deciding to just be Harry, as fun as the Bond act was.

"Hey Hermione, what's up?" He sat down next to her, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "I haven't seen you since last night."

"Yea, you missed pyromaniac Dean pretending to be Santa Claus."

"Oh yea, Ron told me about the chimney incident. Wish we could catch whoever is giving him all of those billywigs."

"Right, anyway, what do you need?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to play a game with Ron, Lavender, and me tonight, during that boring concert we're having." Harry gave her a smile, but she looked doubtful.

"Not sure. That's a pretty weird crowd to be playing a game with. What sort of game?"

"Oh, sort of like Truth or Dare meets Spin the Bottle in the History of Magic classroom at 6:30, so you'll come, that's great, bye." He flew out of the library before she could question him anymore.

*****

"Well Ron, we're about to embark on a beautiful journey," Harry said in the Alfa-Male mode as he got on some "sexy" robes (as sexy as Harry Potter can be anyway). Ron, however, looked, naturally, fabulous, as he is a Weasley (excluding Ginny, who does nothing but giggle and blush, and the parents can't be talked about in this matter, as that is sick and wrong). "Are you ready?"

"Of course I am Harry," Ron said. "Ready to get that book-whore of a girl. God I love her!"

"That great Ron. Let's go now."

*****

The two boys strolled into the classroom. Harry checked the clock. 6:15. He had time to set up. He moved around some chairs to create a decent looking circle area, and then set out four pillows for comfort around in the area. He lit all of the candles until the room was half-lit. Meanwhile Ron just sat on a desk humming to one of The Cranberries' songs, occasionally filling in the words "You know I'm such a fool for you..." to his tune.

"Well, looks good with minutes to spare," Harry announced as he lit the last candle in the classroom.

"Not really Harry," Ron said, stopping from his humming, "it's three minutes till. Are you sure she'll do this?"

"Of course Ron. Now you just sit there with your friends The Cranberries.. I'll be back in three seconds."

"Where the hell do you think you're going? What if they show up?"

"I'm going to get a pack of Butterbeer. A good fan fiction involving a snogging game such as this should not be without Butterbeer. And you know they'll be late. They're girls."

"Fine, whatever Harry. Be back in two seconds or you'll have Avada Kedarva all over your nice little robes."

So Harry went to the kitchen where the house-elves had prepared his drinks. He tasted one.

"Thanks for the extra Dobby, I owe you one."

"Oh, anything for Harry Potter."

"Right, well, toodles all."

And he was gone.

*****

Harry returned with the drinks, and a split-second later Lavender and Hermione were entering the classroom.

"Sorry we're late," Hermione started. "Lavender insisted we didn't arrive on time. So what are we playing again?"

"Truth or Snog. Butterbeer?"

"Truth or What?" Hermione shrieked, much like Ron, only she was wearing lipstick.

"Hey, you sound like Ron, only you're wearing lipstick," Harry remarked, making Ron blush (oh come on, what did you think he would do?).

"Come on Hermione," Lavender prompted, "it sounds fun." She sat down on a pillow and took a sip of the butterbeer, leaving a glossy pink smudge of the bottle. "How do you play?"

"It's really simple; like Truth or Dare meets Spin the Bottle. See, each couple has to ask a question to the other, and they can either answer completely truthfully or they have to snog for five seconds." Harry took a breath after the explanation.

"Oh," Hermione said, looking a bit confused. "Well then. Who are the teams?"

"You and Ron, and then Lavender and I will be on a team. Let's just get started."

"If we get caught..."

"Everyone is at the concert. Don't worry about that."

They all sat. And they sat. It was rather awkward. They were four teenagers, all about to play a game that would probably reveal some deep secrets, and each would be snogging the person next to them for a while. They just sat again. Lavender sipped her butterbeer. Ron started humming to The Cranberries again. Harry sipped his drink. Hermione cleared her throat and started downing Butterbeer. Ron started to fill in various words to the song ("I'm such a fool for you... you've got me wrapped around your finger... do you have to let it linger"). Hermione raised her eyebrow at him and he stopped. More sipping, more clearing of throats, and a few more notes from The Cranberries; they just sat. And sat. Harry eyed the clock. 6:45. They'd better get started; the concert ended at 10:30.

"Well, what do you say we get started now?"

"Sure Harry," Lavender answered. "Who should go first?"

"Err, do you want to?" Harry asked timidly.

"Sure, whatever. What's the question you two?" She gestured to Ron and Hermione. They looked at each other, as if telepathically conversing over the question they were to ask.

"Well..." Hermione just went blank. She looked desperately at Ron, hoping he'd thought of something.

"Err, what's your favorite band?" Ron said hurriedly. Hermione slapped her hand to her head, muttering "Stupid question, stupid question..." and then took another drink.

"Well, that's a tough question Ron," Harry started, not wanting to ruin the game at the beginning. He had to save it. He had to say something fun. He had to say something to shock everyone, like the band was a really big secret, as if no one was supposed to know. "I guess...Well, the truth is...My favorite would have to be...N'Sync."

Silence filled the room. The Boy Who Lived was apparently The Boy Who Liked Gay Boy-bands With Singers Who Danced About in Leather Pants. Harry went red, and hoped his lie wouldn't leave the room.

"Ok Harry," Hermione said, "that's *hiccup* interesting. Lavender, what's yours?"

"I, err, I like, umm, I like N'Sync too," she said sheepishly. "But I'm a girl! It's ok if I like them!"

"She's got a point," Ron said. "Lavender, you have permission to like that little boy-band. So we're done with your turn. Our turn."

Harry smiled. He'd been waiting for this moment. It was half the reason he had invented this little game. He stopped to savor the moment. He was finally going to find out the truth, and the two of them would finally stop bickering as two bickering people and start bickering as a bickering couple. They'd probably engulf each other when they announced that they both were in love with each other and snog for half an hour or so. Then, of course, they'd turn to thank Harry. And then ~

"What conditioner to you use?" Lavender said, giggling. While Harry had been planning Ron and Hermione's future, Lavender had apparently been deep in thought, trying to make up a revealing question for the two on the other question. It had taken her three minutes or so to think up that thought-provoking question. Harry now slapped his hand to his head, much like Hermione, and muttered "Stupid - Ow!" He should have gone with Pavarti.

"I use Pantene Pro-V," Hermione said, running her hand through her bushy hair. Harry noticed, for the first time, that it was really shiny.

"So do I!" Ron said, as if that was the key to bringing them together. Apparently that conditioner has different affects on different hair, Harry thought, knowing that Ron's hair was really soft. How he knew that, he wouldn't ever say. More sleepwalking adventures.

"Well, that's all fine and dandy," Harry said. "Now it's our turn, again.. Can we please ask real questions at this point?"

"Fine, don't be so uptight Harry." He failed to see his uptightness and just sipped his drink. Everyone else did too.

"Let's see," Hermione mused, "a good question. Oh, I've got one. How far have you ever gone?"

"Hermione!" three voices said in shock.

"This coming from the girl who says it's impolite to talk about what happened on a date with someone other than the date," Ron said, amazed.

"Shove it Ron, this is a fun game." Hermione reached for another bottle of Butterbeer. "Now, how far have you gone?"

"Snog," said Lavender and Harry together, both for very different reasons of course.

"Ok then, go ahead," Ron said, looking quite amused. And thus, Harry Potter had his first kiss. It lasted for five seconds. It was interesting. It was glossy. And then he pulled away, only to find that he had pink lip gloss smearing around his lips. He quickly wiped it off, and noticed that Hermione had downed half of her new bottle in the five seconds. Not good, he thought. Or is it?

"Your turn," he said, and quickly asked his question before Lavender could say anything. "Who do you like, or should I say love?"

They both blushed, and looked timidly at each other. Well, Ron looked timidly, Hermione looked overjoyed.

"Ron Weasley," she announced, and hiccupped. "Weasley, Weasley, Weasley. Sounds like weasel, only without the ;el.' It has a "'ey' *hiccup* instead.. Weasley-el. That's what your name would be if you were a *hiccup* weasel-Weasley. Haha! Weasel-Weasley!"

"Right, I like her too," Ron said, bewildered at her behavior. Perhaps I should say something, Harry thought as Hermione hugged Ron tightly.

"I wuvvvvvvvvv you!"

"Err, are you alright Hermione?" Lavender asked. Harry noticed a stash of bottles behind Hermione's pillow.

"Say, Mione, about how many bottles of Butterbeer have you had?" he asked.

"Oh, five or six," she said, playing with her hair some more. "Drank a lot during that awkward silence. Hehe. I've never had Butterbeer like that. I've never had anything like that! It tastes really, really good! Weasel-Weasley. Haha!"

"Right," he said. Maybe I should say something.

"Your turn," Ron said.

"I've got a question: how many toes do bunnies have?"

"Be quiet Hermione. Now here's your question: Have you ever liked a professor, besides Lockhart?"

"Eww!! Of course not!" Harry shrieked. Lavender looked guilty. Everyone stared (except

for Hermione, who was making a paper airplane out of, well, a Butterbeer bottle). "Oww!" Harry shrieked (again) as Hermione tested her airplane.

"Look, I had a thing for Lupin!" Lavender said, blushing like a Weasley, " and..."

"Ooh! Lupin was hot!" Hermione said. "He was a good teacher."

Everyone stared in disgust.

"Harry, what's in the Butterbeer?" Ron said.

"No clue," Harry said. "Who else Lavender?"

*mummer, mummer*

"What was that?"

"Flitwick, ok! The little short guy who teaches Charms. Flitwick!"

"That's rather disturbing," Ron said as Harry gagged. "I didn't need to know that at all."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Didn't think you'd answer in such a manner."

"Harry, may I have my pretty *hiccup* airplane back? I want to fly it over to Ron."

"No Hermione. Anyway, time for us to ask the question. Lavender?"

"What type of shaving cream -"

"Never mind, I'll do it," Harry sighed. "Let's see...Have you ever been to an over-21 bar?"

"Never!" Hermione said as she reached for another bottle.

"Maybe," said Ron. "I don't really remember the sign or anything, but it didn't seem like I should be there." Everyone stared. "Bill took the twins and me ok? Over in Egypt. It was actually kind of scary."

"Whatever Ron. Ask away." Hermione started playing with his hair.

"You've got soft hair," she said. "I could make a pillow if I cut it off and sewed it up. It'd be a bright red pillow. You've got orange because of the Chudley *hiccup* Canons."

"Stop fiddling with my scalp Hermione. What color -- stop that -- (or colors, designs, whatever) are you're -- Hermione! -- undergarments?"

"That's rather bizarre don't you think?" Lavender asked. "I've got on a sort of floral pink bra and matching underwear. My socks have pink fuzz at the rim of them. See!"

Indeed the socks did. And a little pink floral design to match her undergarments.

"Harry?"

"Let's see...Magenta, purple, lavender, and red striped boxers. My socks have duckies on them. Look at them."

The Boy Who Sported Yellow Duckies on Blue Socks modeled his socks for the room to see.

"QUACK!" Hermione shouted. "QUACK QUACK QUACK! HONK! QUACK!"

"Hush Hermione," Ron said, holding her back from Harry's socks. "Harry, are you sure there isn't anything in the Butterbeer?"

"Err, no, I'm really not. Sorry."

"QUACK! Weasley-weasel...Weasley-el! Haha!"

"Shut up Hermione," said Lavender, smacking her upside the head.

"OW!"

"Who's turn is it?"

"Yours Ron and Hermione. Now let's see... How far have you gone--"

"We already did this one!"

"I wasn't finished! How far have you gone to impress a girl, or a guy, a different gender, person of the opposite sex..."

"We've got it Lavender," Ron said, stopping the rambling ditz. (A/N: Who knew "ditz" is a word in Spell-Check?") (A/N (again): Cool, I've never done an Author's Notes inside a story!)

"Let's see," Hermione said as she twisted her hair in the most un-Hermione fashion. "I straightened my hair for Krum and Ron, and I fixed my teeth for Ron, and once I even tried to get Ron-"

"That's great Hermione," Ron said quickly, going red (what, was he supposed to go purple or something?) "Let's see, I did stuff. I, err, I, well, I...."

"Sometime before Mapril," Hermione said. Everyone looked at her. "What?"

"Snog." They snogged.

"Ok, our turn," Ron said. "Have you ever shoplifted?"

Harry and Lavender looked at each other quickly. Lavender stared at her bracelets, purse, and felt her barret. Harry looked at his socks.

"Snog," they said in unison.

"Ok," Hermione said, reaching over for Ron.

"Not you!" Harry said. "We have to snog."

"Stupid git," Ron said under his breath as the other team of partners snogged for five seconds.

As the game continued, the four teenagers found out that Lavender was in love with Dean, Seamus, Draco, Charlie from Ravenclaw, Michael from Hufflepuff, and B.O.B. (Boy On Broom, a passerby whose name she hadn't caught), that Ron couldn't sleep without Mono, his stuffed figure on the Monopoly guy (the guy in the middle of the Monopoly game board), that Hermione had pierced her tongue for a week while her parents, the dentists, were on vacation, and that Harry had two different sized feet.

"The doctors said it might be a side effect from that time I lived through that Avada Kendarva thing," he explained.

"Oh," everyone chimed in. Hermione then ripped off his shoes and pulled his feet from every part to examine them, then took off everyone else's shoes and examined their feet.

"You're right Harry!" she said after looking at her own feet. "Your eight feet are completely differently sized, and shaped!" With that, she dropped to the floor, surrounded by 15 Butterbeer bottles.

Luckily, it was by then 10:30, so they took her out to the Entrance Hall and dragged her up the main staircase. Once everyone crowded the staircase, they flung her down the steps, to make it look like she fell. She was rushed the Hospital Wing, and no one knew that Hermione had passed out due to her drunkenness... except the nurse, who saw it with her nurse-like skills, who told Professor Mcgonnagal, who told Professor Dumbledore, who ordered Harry and Ron to come to his office, who told him that Lavender had taken part in the game that caused Hermione's drunkenness, who smacked Harry and Ron for getting her in trouble, who passed out from the smack in Dumbledore's office, making everything all right, because of Dumbledore's sympathy for the trio's concussion, and wasn't about to punish Lavender either. However, being pretty stupid, she gave herself a wack from her beauty-product filled purse and ended up with a self-inflicted concussion, just to be on the safe side. So there was Dumbledore, with three concussion-ridden students in his office, and one more in the Hospital Wing; he did what anyone would have done in his situation, in order to end the story properly. He took out his sherry and poured himself a drink.