Love, The Git

Unus

Walking up to that bloody train for another ruddy year at Hogwarts was the last thing I had on my mind after the break or lack thereof. Despite Ginny's near constant attempts to win my favor and puzzled looks from Ron when I finally shouted that I simply viewed her as a sister, not some sexual object, I spent most of my summer in the comfort of the room I shared with Ron. However, unbeknownst to him, I spent a surprising amount of time corresponding with a shocking person.

Draco bloody Malfoy.

Even the damn name sent a flutter into my heart. I surmise the bloke turns me into a ruddy girl just through some well used words and elegant penmanship. Even Hermione nodded with agreement as I talked on and on about how perfect he was, despite the evident look of disgust that settled on her face when I prattled on for too long. It was easy to talk to Hermione when I finally figured out what my feelings were. Thankfully, it did not blow up in my face like some of the bloody potions she was working on over the summer.

I had crept up to the door, fist poised to knock, when she opened it first, leaving me in a stunned silence that she broke first, "You aren't exactly quiet, Harry, I heard you standing at the door."

I merely chuckled, "Can't get anything past you, can I, Hermione? Can I come in?"

"May I come in, Harry. How many times do we have to go over this?" She sighed before stepping aside and waving me into the room before hurriedly focusing back on whatever essay she assigned herself as summer work.

I sat on her bed, watching her tap her bottom lip with the end of a feathered quill, before I broke in, "I think I'm gay."

Well, in my rehearsed speech I wasn't going to be so blunt but as I sat there, watching her, all that shit went out the bloody window and it was either confess or run. Hermione, however, sat her quill down, carefully closed her beloved copy of Hogwarts: A History and turned in her seat, a small smile adorning her face before a single lock of curly hair fell in front of it. She walked forward, sat on the bed next to me and pulled me into a short, tight hug.

"It took you long enough to admit it, Harry. I don't mean to sound like Ron, however, what took you so bloody long?"

I shrugged in response and smiled slightly as I remembered the letter sitting on Ron's desk, carefully hidden below books that he would rather die than touch before it was absolutely necessary, wherein Malfoy had taken such care to write For after you tell Granger below my name, "Realizing that I simply adore the stench of cologne soaked blokes, apparently."

Hermione chuckled slightly and gave me one last constricting hug before returning to her spot at the desk, reopening the book and dipping her quill into the pot of dark ink once more, "I'll have Ginny hex you if you come near Ronald. He'd probably go with you for a laugh."

"Feel free to tell him that redheads aren't my type, but, I send my love."

Then, I had quickly turned and fled upstairs to devour Malfoy's letter like Hermione poured over her textbooks. Carefully breaking the wax seal and unfolding the letter with hungry eyes, I began to read:

"Dearest Potter,

You stink, seriously. Have you been borrowing the bloody weasel's cologne again? Actually, don't answer that. You really need to go and buy more of the stuff you normally wear. Although that too is a horrible stench, I can actually stand it unlike the new fumes radiating off your letters.

Now that the insulting portion is out of the way, I hope your confession to Granger went well and did not become some tear fest involving gallons of icecream. Or that she too confessed that she was gay, that would probably kill weasel. Or it would also be bad if she said she had a crush on you this whole time and was merely using the weasel to get closer to you. All the aforementioned cases share the same likelihood so please tell me you are not currently snogging Granger or dripping tears and icecream on here.