Chapter Text
Tuesday 26 January
7:16pm
"Lavender! Focus."
Hermione wished she had a Knut for every time she had said that this year. These enforced study sessions were killing her. Not only did she not particularly enjoy the company of Lavender Brown or Pansy Parkinson, but she was also beginning to panic about their impending N.E.W.T.s. They had only 19 weeks and 4 days left to study. She could have made so much more progress by herself.
Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick had sorted them into groups of three and demanded that they do all their essay work together. They even had to sign in and out of the library together at the appointed times, every Tuesday night.
"I don't like to focus," Lavender whined. "Please don't make me."
"We've got to get this essay done this week," Hermione said, tapping her quill on the parchment. "And we need to make it thorough. Professor Flitwick said there would be an entire section devoted to concealment charms on the N.E.W.T. practical."
"So why are we writing an essay at all?" Lavender asked, her cheek mashed against the heel of her hand. "Let's go conceal something and have done with it."
"Let's start with that cardigan," Pansy suggested contemptuously. "It's giving me a migraine."
Lavender looked deeply insulted. "I just bought this!"
"Where? From Sally Samhill's Secondhand Store?" Pansy's sniffed. "Rosettes are so pre-war."
"Oh yeah?" Lavender piped up. "I'll tell you what's pre-war: bob haircuts! Everyone knows you're just trying to elongate your squishy face."
"I am this close to squishing your face!"
"Ladies!" Hermione hissed. "We still have four inches to go here. Now. I say we round out the information on Disillusionment Charms with a nod to Roebuck's experimental research on focused blending. I know it's controversial, but it does have added benefits in daylight situations, and I really think the testing committee will be looking for critical thinking skills over basic charm theory. After all, that's what separates the N.E.W.T.s from the O.W.L.s, right?"
They looked at her blankly, but at least they'd stopped bickering.
"I’m sorry," Lavender said. "You lost me at 'ladies.'"
"You know what your problem is, Granger?" Pansy asked. Hermione wished she had a Knut for every time she'd heard that one, too.
"My sorry excuse for revision partners?" Hermione speculated.
"You need to get laid," Pansy said.
"So do I," Lavender added enthusiastically.
Not again. Hermione looked at her watch. Well, at least they'd made it almost twenty minutes this time before the topic of sex came up. That had to be a record.
Pansy rolled her eyes and continued, "But if you can't find it in a book or postulate on its critical… whatever… you're clueless."
"I am not clueless," Hermione spat. "Some of us have more important things on our minds. Just because the two of you can't go a day without a trip to the Astronomy Tower—"
"It's been more than five miserable weeks for me," Lavender groaned.
"I have needs, Granger," Pansy announced in an airy tone. "And I'm not too much of a prude to admit it."
"I am not a prude!" Hermione asserted for the millionth time. "I have needs, too." She sneered at Pansy. "But I also have standards."
"And I don't? Is that it?" Pansy asked.
"Merlin knows I don't," Lavender said.
Hermione groaned. "It's always sex, sex, sex with you two!"
"Because we're not getting any," Lavender pointed out.
Pansy made a high-pitched noise. "Speak for yourself, Brown."
"You're getting laid, are you?" Lavender asked.
Pansy sat up straighter in her chair. Hermione had come to realize that this nervous habit of hers always preceded a most outrageous lie. "I have… prospects."
"Prospects," Hermione mimicked her. "That's rich."
"More than you can say for yourself, Granger," Pansy spat.
Hermione sat up a little straighter herself. "I think I could do just fine. If I was interested in that sort of thing."
"You do, do you?" Pansy asked.
Hermione squared her jaw. "I know I could." Worst-case scenario, she could always hit Ron up for a tumble in a broom closet. He was fairly good at it, and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she'd considered it more than once since they had returned for their post-war eighth year. But the emotions involved were messy, to say the least.
"Care to test that theory?" Pansy challenged her.
"No," Hermione said firmly. "You know what I want? I want to go an entire study session without the two of you mentioning boys or sex or anything of the sort. I'd settle for a single half-hour, but I imagine that's wishful thinking on my part."
They didn't say anything in response, and Hermione returned to her notes, pleased to hear nothing but the sound of flipping pages and scratching quills.
It lasted a total of three minutes and forty-two seconds.
"You know, I could have sworn I saw Dean Thomas get a boner in Herbology last Wednesday," Lavender said in a faraway voice. "I mean, I know he's almost like a brother at this point, but the size of his feet alone—"
"Answer me this," Hermione interrupted, dropping her quill in frustration. "If you were getting sex, would you stop talking about sex?"
Lavender perked up. "I'd settle for a good snog at this point," she said.
"We've already established that I do not have a problem with sex," Pansy noted. "You are the one with the problem, Granger."
"No," Lavender said, "the problem is boys."
This was new. "What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Getting them?"
"No." Lavender shrugged and lowered her voice. "Keeping them."
"Maybe that's a problem for you," Pansy said with a truly catty smirk.
"Oh, give over, Parkinson," Hermione said with a huff. "We see you in the common room every night." And they did. Eighth years unfortunately all shared the same makeshift dormitory. "You're snoring in an armchair by 9:30."
"I do not—"
"Actually," Lavender said, "you do."
Hermione chuckled. "You're having about as much sex as I am."
Lavender rolled her eyes. "Can we please just establish that we are all desperate and move on? Like I said, the problem is not getting a willing partner. It's keeping him."
"You know," Hermione said thoughtfully, "you've got a point. Boys get weird after sex." Even Ron had sort of freaked out on her after their first time, though he did end up coming back for more.
"The fun part is all the other stuff," Lavender pointed out, "and they usually want to skip right over that."
"What stuff?" Pansy asked with a wicked grin.
"You know." Lavender raised one eyebrow. "The other stuff."
"Such as?" Pansy prodded.
Lavender was nothing if not a Gryffindor at heart. "Well, I wouldn't mind having an enthusiastic tongue between my legs, if you know what I mean."
"Ew," Pansy said. "I don't think anyone could not know what you mean by that, Brown."
"You asked!" Lavender reminded her.
"Actually," Hermione cut in, "I think you're onto something, Lavender."
"I am?"
"Yes." Hermione studied both of them for a moment. "The two of you don't need sex. You need foreplay." Even Pansy couldn't disguise her sudden interest. "What if…." Hermione narrowed her eyes, thinking.
A few moments passed in silence.
"I hate it when you do that!" Pansy gritted. "What if what?"
"Let's say you ask a boy out," Hermione said.
Pansy huffed loudly. "I do not ask boys out. They ask me out."
"Maybe that's your problem," Lavender muttered.
"I do not—"
"Have a problem," Hermione finished for her. "Yeah, we get it. But let's say that – just this once – you ask a boy out. And you act interested in sex. Not overtly interested. But you send him signals that you're… you know… game, so to speak."
"That's standard operating procedure, isn't it?" Lavender asked.
"Yes, but…" Hermione picked her quill back up and tapped the end of it against her lips. "I mean, say you keep sending signals, but you never quite go all the way." They looked at her, obviously waiting for more. "The problem is that we – girls, I mean – let ourselves get so carried away by the first act that the play's over before we even know what's happened. What if we make it a logical progression?"
"I like to keep logic far away from my foreplay, thanks," Lavender said.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What I mean is that you arrange the obstacle course ahead of time, and your partner has to move through all the obstacles before he can cross the finish line. Naturally, it would require a patient partner and a little bit of restraint on your part."
"No way," Pansy said with a wave of her hand. "No boy is that patient."
"I disagree," Hermione said. "Plenty of boys would be patient if they sincerely thought they had a chance to go all the way. I think a lot of girls just have low expectations." She tried not to give Lavender a pointed glare. "And they're not willing to tell their partner what they want." And sometimes you find that you just don't want the same things, but she left that unsaid.
"Like you're an expert, Granger," Pansy snarled.
"I didn't say I was an expert," Hermione replied, bristling. "The point is that if you play it right, your partner won't toss you aside. Not until he gets what he wants. So until that happens—"
"—you own him," Pansy finished for her, a sadistic look in her eyes.
"You could look at it that way, I suppose," Hermione replied distastefully.
"And you think you could play it right, then?" Pansy asked, her voice thick with doubt.
"Yes," Hermione asserted, raising her chin. "You know, I think maybe I could."
"Well, I know I could," Pansy bragged.
"I seriously doubt I could," Lavender said, "but it might be fun to try."
There was silence for a moment. They all sat there staring at each other eagerly, brains working overtime.
"Let's do it," Pansy said at last.
Hermione twitched, startled. Her brain had not been working in that direction. "What?" she asked dubiously. "Do what?"
Pansy leaned in across the table. "Valentine's Day is less than three weeks away. Let's do it. Let's find a date. Then we proceed to do everything with him but have sex." She was now whispering excitedly. "It's perfect! If we play our cards right, we're practically guaranteed a date for Valentine's Day."
"And sex on Valentine's Day!" Lavender added.
"And by sex," Pansy added, "you mean—"
"His cock," Lavender said without flinching. "In any orifice other than your mouth."
Hermione shrugged. "That definition works for me."
Pansy looked slightly uneasy. "All right," she said. "If we're going to do it, we might as well make it a competition."
"What? No way," Hermione said, chuckling at the thought.
"I knew it!" Pansy cried, pointing at her. "You don't think you can do it. You don't think you have the – what was the word? – restraint."
Hermione found herself grinding her teeth. She did not like having her own words thrown back at her, but Pansy was famous for it. "I have plenty of restraint," she snapped.
"Or maybe you're the one whose expectations aren't so high?" Pansy taunted her. "You'd be happy with anything you can get, I bet."
"I can undoubtedly get more than you, Parkinson," Hermione spat. "Not to mention better." She was a war heroine, after all. That had to count for something.
"I'd like to see you try," Pansy challenged.
"Is that right?" Hermione countered. Something inside her clicked. She wasn't going to just sit there and be told that she was a prude who couldn't get and keep a date for less than three weeks. She slammed her Charms textbook shut and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, her eyes never leaving Pansy's.
"So what are we doing?" Lavender asked.
Hermione raised her chin defiantly. "We're making a list."
"We are?" Pansy asked, her brows knitting together.
"Yes." Hermione spread the parchment flat and dipped her quill in ink. "We're going to list all of the things we want to do with our date before Valentine's Day. I'll triplicate the list and charm it. Once we've done something, it will automatically get crossed off." She paused. "And the person with the most items crossed off by Valentine's Day without going all the way… wins."
"Wins what?" Pansy demanded, her eyes narrowing.
"A whole bunch of orgasms, hopefully," said Lavender. She suddenly looked wide awake and raring to go.
"And a date for Valentine's Day," Hermione added. She supposed that couldn't be a bad thing.
"And bragging rights," Pansy said.
Hermione tried to keep from rolling her eyes. "If that's important to you."
"Oh, it is."
"Okay," Hermione said. "I'll start. Kiss, with tongue."
"Hands on breasts," Lavender supplied eagerly. "Bare breasts."
"Good one," Hermione agreed. "And hands… you know, inside knickers."
Lavender tapped her finger against her lips thoughtfully. "What about wanking together?"
Pansy snickered. "Where's the fun in that?"
"It could be fun," Hermione conceded. "I'll add it."
"And we should include bondage," Lavender said.
"What kind of freak are you, Brown?" Pansy hissed, sounding highly offended.
Hermione didn't think anyone deserved to be called a freak just because they enjoyed less conventional foreplay. "I'm fine with bondage," Hermione said coolly, scribbling it down before Pansy could protest further.
"Gryffindors," Pansy spat. "Unbelievable."
"Go on, then," Lavender challenged her. "You name something."
Pansy looked taken back for a moment. Then she caught herself and looked down at her fingernails, attempting to look bored. "Oral sex," she said.
"Which one?" Hermione asked.
"Well, duh," Pansy said. "If it's done on girls, it's oral sex. If it's done on boys, it's a blow job."
Hermione paused with her quill above the parchment, her mouth open slightly. She decided it wasn't worth it. "I'll just go ahead and list them both, shall I?"
"Be sure to list them separately," Lavender said. "And add rimming."
Hermione laughed in spite of herself. "I am not adding rimming, Lavender."
"Good call, Granger," Pansy said, though it seemed to pain her to agree with Hermione. "Rimming is right out."
"All right, then." Lavender sounded only slightly disappointed. "How about… ear-whispering?"
"That's—" Hermione paused. It wasn't normally something she would consider. But she had to agree that it could be quite nice. "Actually, that's a good one. And I'm adding frottage while we're at it."
"Ooh, yes, frottage is the best," Lavender squeaked excitedly. "Clothed or unclothed?"
Hermione thought for a moment. "Let's make it clothed."
Lavender giggled. "I like the way you think."
They sat in silence for a few moments, all of them with their chins propped on their hands.
"What else?" Hermione asked, dipping her quill again for some fresh ink.
"Did we include hands down his pants?" Pansy asked.
"We have hands down knickers," Hermione said.
Lavender made a frantic gesture. "We should list them separately."
"All right," Hermione said. "I'll add it now." Her eyes scanned the list. "Well, this should keep us busy."
"We're not stopping there, are we?" asked Lavender, as though Hermione had just taken her last cookie.
"Why?" Hermione asked. "What did we leave out?"
"Nipples. Nipple sucking and the like."
"Of course," Hermione agreed, writing down Basic nipple play. "Some of this just seems so obvious, doesn't it?"
"Ah!" Lavender exclaimed. "Love bites!"
"I like that one," Pansy said, perking up noticeably.
Hermione snorted. "Want to be marked, do you, Parkinson?"
"I – what?" Pansy tried to backpedal. "No. I mean—"
"Fingering!" Lavender said in a loud whisper. "Oh my god, how could we forget fingering?"
"Exactly how many fingers are we talking here?" Pansy asked, shifting in her seat.
"Standard two, I would presume," Hermione said.
"Works for me," Lavender agreed. "Does that work for you, Parkinson?"
"Just two?" she asked, studying her nails again.
Lavender shrugged. "Well, I always thought three was kind of overkill."
"I agree," Hermione said.
"Wimps," Pansy mumbled.
"So is that all?" Hermione asked, turning the list around so they could look at it.
Kiss, with tongue
Hands on bare breasts
Hands inside knickers
Mutual masturbation
Bondage
Cunnilingus
Fellatio
Ear-whispering
Frottage, clothed
Hands down pants (his)
Basic nipple play
Love bites
Fingering
Pansy eyed it suspiciously. Lavender read through it with relish, her lips moving over the words.
"I think that covers it," Lavender said at last.
"Should we put them in any particular order?" Hermione wondered aloud. It seemed a shame not to, but Hermione had to admit that agreeing on any particular order with these two might be a huge task.
"I like it just like that," Lavender said. "Leave it."
"Parkinson?" Hermione prodded.
"I suppose it will do," Pansy said airily.
"So. Now to triplicate it." Hermione took out her wand and flicked her wrist. The parchment glowed slightly, and then Hermione lifted three separate copies off of one another. "And charm it." She tapped each parchment once with her wand, giving the spell her full concentration. Then she glared at Lavender. "I told you that those advanced Detection Charms would come in handy. Good thing Roebuck—"
"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" Pansy spat. "Why don't you marry Roebuck if you love him so much?"
"I wouldn't mind but, unfortunately," Hermione said defensively, "he disappeared about fourteen years ago. Strangest thing, too—"
"Give me my list!" Lavender demanded.
"Fine," Hermione said, sliding it across the table. "And yours, Parkinson."
"Are you sure these are all the same?" Pansy asked suspiciously.
Hermione gave her a look. "They're copies," she said. "They're the same down to every dotted 'i'."
"So."
"Yeah."
"Right."
"Now we just pick a willing partner?" Lavender asked.
"I've got Longbottom," Pansy said eagerly.
Lavender giggled. "Longbottom? Really?"
Pansy squared her shoulders. "Some of us are in this to win, Brown. Longbottom would do anything that was asked of him. He might as well have a sign posted to his forehead: WIPE FEET HERE."
"You might be surprised," Hermione replied in a sing-song voice. She knew Neville well enough to know that he had some serious spine when it came down to it.
"Doubt it," Pansy said dismissively.
"Hope you have some illustrated guidebooks," Lavender teased her. "Maybe even a map."
"Lavender!" Hermione said in a scolding voice.
"What?" She looked genuinely confused. "Am I wrong?"
Hermione gave Lavender a faint smile. "I wouldn't know."
"Well. I'll take Blaise Zabini," Lavender announced, as though it was the best idea ever.
Pansy snickered.
"What?" Lavender asked defensively.
"I'm just saying." Pansy raised one palm. "Don't believe the hype."
"Oh, I believe it," Lavender said. She sounded like she was defending her mother, not Blaise Zabini. "And I plan to fully capitalize on it."
Pansy shrugged. "Your funeral."
Lavender narrowed her eyes. "What do you know that I don't?"
"I've been around Blaise for over seven years," she said. "I seriously doubt he earned his reputation. Most likely, he started a few rumors and watched it take off from there."
Lavender made a dismissive gesture. "Either way, he's famous for his skills."
"Infamous, you mean," Hermione said with a chuckle.
"And what about you, Granger?" Pansy asked, turning on her. "Who's the unlucky bloke?"
"I—"
Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her. Hermione had not thought this far ahead. She had been going along with them, sure, mostly to get Pansy off her back. But she wasn't really planning on going through with any of this.
"Well?" Lavender nagged. "Don't make us pick for you."
"You know what? This is ridiculous," Hermione said, straightening her parchments and books. "I can't believe I got carried away like this." Then she started to panic. "We don't have time for this! Do you know how much I have to do in the next month for Transfiguration alone?"
"Breathe," Lavender said.
Out of nowhere, a green light passed over the table. Startled, Hermione looked at Pansy and found her sitting there smugly, twirling her wand between her fingers.
"What did you just do?" Hermione inquired frantically.
"I'm not letting you out of this now, Granger!" Pansy exclaimed.
Hermione's mouth went dry. "What did you do?"
"Binding spell," Pansy said with a smirk. "We all have to at least do the kiss before noon on Valentine's Day."
"What?!" Hermione's voice carried through their corner of the library.
Pansy laughed at her mercilessly. "Aren't you glad you've taught me so many critical thinking skills?" She looked very pleased with herself. "Looks like you'd better pick a victim. Oops, I mean partner."
Hermione tried to calm herself. She hated the look of smug satisfaction on Pansy's face. "I suppose just a kiss isn't too bad," she said, trying for indifference.
"So who's it going to be?" Pansy asked.
"Fine," Hermione gritted. "I'll pick…" She thought for a moment. Was there someone she could choose… someone so despicable that she would never want to do more than give him the required kiss, with tongue?
"Malfoy," she said at last.
"Draco Malfoy?" Pansy asked, eyes wide. And then she started cackling as though it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
"What's so funny?" Hermione asked, feeling uneasy. Was he a terrible kisser or something? She supposed Pansy would know. Actually, it was probably best if he was.
"No-nothing," Pansy said, wiping at her eyes. "Why on earth would you pick Draco?" Her amusement suddenly vanished, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, I get it. You don't really want to test your precious restraint at all. Do you?"
Hermione crossed her arms, refusing to speak.
"So let me get this straight," Pansy said. "We're having a competition, but I'm the only one who's actually competing?"
"I'm competing!" Lavender exclaimed, looking offended.
"No, Brown," Pansy drawled, "you are delusional."
Hermione started to wonder what Pansy knew about her former housemates that they didn't know.
"Fine," Pansy said at last, waving her hand. "You two can do whatever you like. I'm going to do everything on this list and enjoy every minute of it."
"So am I!" Lavender asserted.
"I'll do the kiss," Hermione muttered through her teeth.
"With tongue," Pansy reminded her, smiling wickedly.
"Yes," Hermione huffed. "With tongue."
"And we check in on each others' progress during next week's session?" Pansy asked.
"Works for me," Lavender said.
"Can't wait," Hermione gritted.