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Chapter Text

Thursday, December 10, 1994

Spluttering in disbelief, Jasmine Potter struggled to form a coherent response to what her Transfiguration professor had just told her. "But... but... Surely you're joking, Professor McGonagall!"

As if it weren't bad enough that she'd been forced to participate against her will in a deadly tournament that had once been discontinued due to the high death toll, now she was learning that she was also going to be forced to participate in what should have been an optional event: the Yule Ball.

I think I'd rather face another dragon.

"I can assure you, Miss Potter, that I am not in the habit of joking about such matters. You are a champion, however unprecedented your participation may be, and it's traditional for champions to start off the Yule Ball with a dance. That means you have to attend the ball, and yes, that also means you will have to have a date."

A date? Jasmine thought. I wonder if that Hungarian Horntail is still in the neighborhood and free that evening...

Jasmine could see the lines around her professor's eyes tighten, a sure sign that she was unhappy — but about what this time? Is she unhappy at being questioned like this by a student? She should be unhappy that one of her students is constantly being forced to do ridiculous things to put on a show for a school and a society that doesn't seem to appreciate it.

The ball itself had only been announced earlier during Transfiguration class, and Jasmine had immediately decided that she wouldn't attend. Now this had to happen...

"I have no desire to go to any balls, Professor," she complained, hoping that for once her head of house would listen to her. "I'm not a real champion, and I don't want to participate in any more of this barbaric circus than I have to. This isn't one of the three required events. I don't want to be put on display like a trained monkey for other people's entertainment, especially students who, as recently as a few days ago, were cursing me and accusing me of cheating. I've never liked any sort of attention or being stared at, which is bound to happen at this ball because I can't dance, and I know I'll make a fool out of myself if I try."

Those aren't my only reasons, but hopefully they'll be enough...

"I'm afraid that none of that matters, Miss Potter. It's tradition and it's expected, so you'll be going — you don't have a choice in the matter, so there's no point in arguing about it. I suggest you learn how to dance, too, because I don't want you making Gryffindor or Hogwarts look bad. Now off with you, I have other duties to attend to."

Stepping out of the Transfiguration classroom, Jasmine Potter looked around the empty stone corridor and realized just how alone she was. McGonagall didn't help us when we came to her about the Stone at the end of first year, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she isn't willing to support or help me now. Her green eyes narrowed as she reflected on her current situation. There's no one here for me. How... appropriate.

This was an unexpected feeling, despite the problems she had experienced over the course of the past three months. Even when matters were at their worst, when most of the school had turned against her after her name shot out of the Goblet of Fire, she at least had the support and help of her best friend.

Hermione Granger. Throughout Jasmine's time at Hogwarts, none of the challenges or dangers she had faced seemed quite so bad so long as her best friend was by her side. Even lying petrified in the hospital wing, Hermione had still managed to give her the information she needed to find Ginny and defeat the basilisk. Merlin, that was an awful month...

Now, though, Jasmine was facing something completely new and unexpected, something that she would have to face without the indomitable Hermione by her side. For more than one reason, that caused Jasmine to start to panic.

Freak.

She'd managed to keep herself from having any sort of panic attack since she first started attending Hogwarts, despite having had plenty of good reasons for one; but she still remembered the symptoms. She felt her heart start beating louder while her breaths started coming shorter and faster. She expected that her hands would soon start to shake and pain to bloom in her chest.

You were dumped on our doorstep because no one wanted you. No one will ever want you.

She needed to get control of herself, but that might be tough without a paper bag to breathe into. And paper bags were non-existent in the wizarding world. Maybe a cloth bag would work? At least she didn't have to worry any longer that a panic attack would lead to an extreme display of accidental magic — that had always resulted in a worse-than-usual punishment from the Dursleys.

Freak!

It had been three years since she'd had to live full-time with the Dursleys, and she still hadn't been able to get that little voice to go completely silent. She didn't consciously perceive herself as a freak anymore — at least she didn't think so — but spending a decade being called a freak isn't something a person can easily shrug off, especially not when she fully believed it for all that time. Perhaps the voice never completely went away because she'd had so many reasons over the years to consider herself a freak.

During her decade living at the Dursleys they had found lots of supposedly "freakish" things about her to complain about: the weird scar on her forehead, her status as an orphan, the claim that her parents died due to her father's drunk driving, and of course the strange incidents that regularly happened around her.

The one feature of all these things had in common was that none of them had been chosen by her. As a result, she had over time come to accept that freakishness was somehow a part of her nature — something she'd never be rid of.

We hoped to beat the freakishness out of you...

When Jasmine learned she was a witch, she imagined that she would enter a society where she'd be accepted and wouldn't be a freak anymore, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Once she started attending Hogwarts, she was faced with stares and whispers wherever she went. It was almost enough to make her miss the overt animosity of the Dursleys. Almost.

Then, on a semi-regular basis, the school turned on her with a hostility that seemed to be even worse than that of the Dursleys. She wasn't merely a freak, she was some sort of Dark Lady just waiting to murder everyone in their sleep. Once again, there didn't seem to be anything she could do about any of it: the hostility was due to who and what she was, not behavior she could change or words she could take back.

A freak, just like your mother...

As if all that weren't enough, another situation had been... developing. It may have started all the way back in first year, but she had only noticed it during that awful May of second year, and it hadn't started intruding on her thoughts and dreams until the end of the last school year. Yet again, it wasn't something she had chosen, and all she could do was ignore it or suppress it. Jasmine had been hoping that if she suppressed it enough, it would never become public and thus one more thing that people could harass her about. Easier said than done — and that was before the bombshell McGonagall laid on me...

Normally she'd go straight to Hermione for help. On those rare occasions when Hermione didn't already have the answer, she became even more determined and dove into whatever research was needed to find an answer. In the meantime, the bushy-haired one would be sure to provide the comfort and support that Jasmine needed to stay sane — including hugs and other forms of physical contact which most kids grew up taking for granted. This time, though, going to Hermione was the last thing she could do. If anything, that would make matters worse.

You're a freak in both worlds. No one wants you...

Jasmine suddenly realized that her vision had started to narrow and her hands were shaking badly. She'd been standing in the corridor too long worrying about her situation, and her panic attack had worsened. She should have taken action as soon as she realized what was happening. If she had, she might have been able to prevent it from going too far, but it had been so long since her last incident that she'd allowed herself to get distracted by her own inner ramblings. I can't afford to collapse here in the hall. I need to get somewhere safe, somewhere private...

No longer completely conscious of what she was doing, Jasmine started running through the castle's corridors. Long auburn hair flying behind her, her feet took her to the only place that would be safe: the Gryffindor dormitory.

No one will ever want you!

Unfortunately for her, it wasn't private, and she was going to be forced to have a conversation she'd hoped to forever avoid.

Chapter Text

Several heads turned and looked when Jasmine Potter charged into the Gryffindor common room, but few thought much of it. Jasmine had been involved in so many strange events over the past three years that odd behavior had come to be expected of her. By the time she hit the stairs to the girls' dormitory, they had already turned back to their work or conversations.

All but one.

Assured that she need not wait for her friend after class, Hermione Granger had returned straight to the Gryffindor dormitory while Jasmine was held back by Professor McGonagall. She had intended to get a start on her Charms essay before heading to lunch, but for some reason her mind refused to focus on the task and instead kept returning to thoughts about the upcoming Yule Ball which McGonagall had announced at the end of the day's Transfiguration lesson.

I wonder what style dress I'd look best in...

Dress? Style? What? Hermione had never been much of a "girly" girl. She didn't care about makeup and hair care products. She had never been to any sort of ball, she had never been dancing, and quite frankly had never expected to be asked out on a date. She was focused on her school work and, being practical-minded, figured that no wizard would be very interested in a plain, bossy, muggleborn girl with impossible hair and overly large teeth.

Other witches might dream about dresses and dates and romance, but Hermione ruthlessly suppressed all such thoughts because she had concluded that it was better to avoid having hopes if she was only going to be disappointed anyway. It might have been a rather lonely existence, if it weren't for the close relationship she'd developed with Jasmine Potter.

So why did she keep thinking about the Yule Ball? That didn't make any sense, and Hermione hated things which didn't make sense. She hated them almost as much as she hated distractions from doing her homework, which meant she was doubly already annoyed when she was interrupted by the sight of Jasmine racing through the common room and up to the fourth year girls' dorm.

Well, now I have a good excuse to abandon my Charms essay as a lost cause and go find out what was wrong with Jasmine. This time. Keeping that girl safe has become a full time job. I should put in for hazard pay.

Stepping into the dorm she shared with Jasmine, Fay, Sophie, Parvati, and Lavender, Hermione didn't see anyone and considered trying one of the other dorms, but then she heard heavy breathing coming from the far side of the room. Walking carefully around the end of Jasmine's four-poster bed, she saw the girl sitting on the cold stone floor with what appeared to be a cloth bag against her face. Jasmine had her eyes closed and was taking large, full breaths in and out of the bag. Her hands were shaking and she was clearly in distress.

"Jasmine," Hermione said softly as she crouched down and reached out to the girl. "What's wrong, Jas? What happened?"

She tried to be gentle, she really did; but Jasmine was too lost in her own mind to notice what was going on around her and thus was shocked to suddenly discover someone right next to her.

"Gah!" Jasmine shouted as she practically levitated straight off the floor (and with the existence of accidental magic, it's not impossible that that's exactly what she did); unfortunately, she moved horizontally as well as vertically, hitting her head on her bedside table. It might have been funny if Jasmine weren't already in such a panicked state — she hadn't had nearly enough time to calm down yet, and when she realized that it was Hermione she was looking at, her panic only worsened.

Hermione considered the situation. Shortness of breath, shaking hands, distress, breathing into a bag... Oh, Merlin, she's having a panic attack! I'm not going to get anything out of Jasmine while she's like this. I need to get her calmed down first, then interrogate her.

"It'll be okay, Jasmine. Whatever it is, we'll get through it together like we always do. I need you to calm down. Breathe more slowly. C'mon Jas, deeper breaths." Hermione had plenty of experience dealing with the green-eyed witch after she had awoken in a panic after one of her nightmares. A soft voice and a firm embrace, sometimes combined with stroking her head, always relaxed her again so she could fall back asleep.

Not so relaxed that she doesn't get rather clingy, though, wrapping me in her arms so tightly that I can't always get back to my own bed without waking her back up. Ah, well, at least it's never so uncomfortable that I can't get to sleep myself...

Hermione frowned and bit her bottom lip in consternation: instead of starting to calm down like she expected, Jasmine had started shaking her head and looking at her like she was the problem.

Does she even recognize me? OK, if the gentle approach won't work, I'll be more forceful. It's not like this is the first time I've had to be aggressive with her...

Standing and turning, Hermione whipped out her wand and shot at the door the strongest silencing and privacy charms she knew. Technically they were NEWT-level spells, but Hermione had never held back when she wanted to learn something important. In the case of these charms, she had learned them fast because she had needed them to ensure privacy while she and Jasmine practiced spells and strategy in an empty classroom for the first task of the tournament.

"Jasmine! Snap out of it!" Hermione had crouched back down and grabbed her best friend by her shoulders, giving her a couple of quick, sharp shakes so the panicking auburn-haired witch could focus again. These actions received a more positive reaction as Jasmine blinked slowly a few times and started breathing deeply. Progress!

After a few deeper, longer breaths, though, Jasmine started to physically curl in on herself. No! Don't do that! Sometimes Jasmine could be so introverted that she made Hermione look like a party girl, and when she turned inward like this, it was hard to get her to open up again.

"Don't tune me out like that, Jasmine," Hermione said as she moved her hand to cup the other girl's cheek and lift her head up to face her. Brown eyes meeting green, she continued, "Whatever is going on has to be bad if it's got you reacting like this — you weren't this bad even after learning that you'd have to face a dragon in the first task. Whatever it is, though, you know I'll be here to help, just like I've always been. You need to tell me the problem so we can work on it together."

Under any other set of circumstances, this would have instantly calmed Jasmine down and helped her to start talking. This time, however, it had almost the opposite effect. Fortunately the deep breathing had already started reversing the panic attack, despite the absence of a paper bag. Her vision had begun to sharpen again, her heart wasn't pounding in her ears anymore, and Jasmine could start thinking clearly again.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Talking came slowly because she still felt the need to take deep breaths. "I know you want to help." Deep breath. "But you can't this time."

"Let me be the judge of that, Jasmine. I haven't turned my back on you yet and I don't intend to start now. Tell me what's wrong. What could have possibly happened between the end of Transfiguration and now? What did Professor McGonagall say to you that has you in such a state? Did something happen to Sirius? Is it the tournament? Is something wrong with the magical contract? Is it your grades? You're not being expelled are you? What could be so bad that you'd react like this?" Now that Jasmine was calming down, Hermione was getting herself worked up.

Merlin, that girl has a set of lungs on her if she can say all that without once stopping to breathe! "No, Hermione, you don't understand. You can't do anything this time," Jasmine said a bit more sharply than she intended as she suddenly stood up and moved away, putting some distance between herself and her friend.

Freak.

"I don't see how anyone can help me, Hermione. And I don't know what I'm going to do..."

Unnatural.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jasmine. Surely someone can help, even if it's not me. I don't understand why you're acting this way. Why can't you at least tell me what the problem is, even if you don't think I can help?" Hermione was starting to worry even more now. Jasmine wasn't exactly an optimist, but she had never adopted such a defeatist attitude before.

Jasmine kept taking long, slow breaths. Her panic attack had subsided now, but she was worried that another might strike if she didn't stay calm. She had wanted to find a safe, private place to ride the attack out; now that her privacy had been lost, she felt that the safety had also been compromised. Normally she went to Hermione to feel safer, so this only added to her distress.

Abnormal.

"Jasmine?" Hermione asked in a soft voice while leaning closer again. "Please? I only want to help. I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you, but I hate seeing you like this. When you're this upset, I get upset. You're my best friend, Jas, and you know I'd do anything to keep you safe."

Drawing in a deep, ragged breath, Jasmine knew she wasn't going to get away. Hermione was tenacious when it came to something or someone she cared about — at least, that was the positive way to put it. If one weren't feeling charitable, one would say that Hermione simply didn't know when to mind her own business. And both versions were true — it was one of the things she found both endearing and annoying about the bushy-haired witch.

Why would anyone ever love a freak like you?

"It's the Yule Ball, Hermione."

Hermione blinked a couple of times at this revelation. "The Yule Ball? You mean, the ball that was just announced? What could you possibly have learned about the ball that would upset you this much? And why were you told but not the rest of us?"

Jasmine folded her arms across her chest in a defensive posture and turned slightly away from the other girl. "Professor McGonagall held me back after class today to tell me that it's 'tradition' for champions to open the ball with a dance. So even though I'm not a real champion since I'm not representing any school, I'm still required to get a date and attend so I can be put on display in front of everyone!" Unfortunately, saying this out loud only served to make the situation more real to her, and Jasmine could feel the first stirrings of panic start to take hold again.

Why do you impose your freakishness on normal people? We don't want you.

Hermione felt an unfamiliar pressure surrounding her and suddenly realized that it was a magical pressure — and it was coming from Jasmine! Only then did she recognize that she had felt the same pressure when she entered the dorm and that it must be a symptom of Jasmine's panic attacks, which meant that a new attack was starting. While one part of her mind perked up at this new information and was eager to learn more about it, another became confused.

Nobody wants you. You'll never date, marry, or do any of the things normal people do.

"I don't understand, Jasmine. I know that getting a date might be stressful, but it'll be much worse for the boys since they're expected to do the asking. And it's not like you have to be worried that no one will ask you — even if you weren't the Girl Who Lived and a Triwizard Champion, you're still more than pretty enough to attract a guy. You're certainly more likely to be asked than I am..." Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral when she said this, but she couldn't quite avoid sounding slightly bitter at the end.

Jasmine was too wrapped up in her own problems to notice, though. "No, Hermione, you don't understand. It's not being asked by some random, annoying prat that worries me..." Deep breath... in and out... focus on that weird spot on the wall... don't think about where this conversation is going...

"Well, are you worried that you won't be asked by the boy you like? You've never mentioned anyone, not that we've ever talked about boys, but it still might not be that big of a problem. I don't know what wizarding traditions have to say about a girl asking a boy out on a date, but if anyone can get away with it, I'm sure you can. Tell you what, I'll help you find a way to corner him somewhere private and you can ask. What's the worst that can happen? Wait, it's not someone gross — it's not Malfoy, is it?"

"What? Eww! No! Whatever gave you the idea...? No, don't tell me — I don't want to know. Just... no." On the positive side, my panic attack seems to have subsided. On the negative side, I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. Progress?

Hermione had to roll her eyes at that. "Then what's the problem, Jas? If it's not someone like Malfoy that you want to ask, you should be able to get away with it, even if there are old-fashioned wizarding taboos against it. I can't imagine any boy saying no. Some might say 'yes' to you even if they already have a date."

Could Hermione possibly make this any harder on her? She simply wanted to end this conversation and maybe forget that this day ever happened, but Jasmine couldn't think of any way to do that without saying things that she never wanted to admit to herself, never mind admit aloud to someone else.

We don't want you infecting any of us with your abnormalities. Hopefully you'll never breed.

"No, Hermione, there isn't any boy that I want to ask to the Yule Ball." There, maybe that'll shut her up...?

The more Jasmine explained, the more confused Hermione became. "I still don't understand," her friend responded. "If you're not worried about asking someone yourself, what are you worried about? What has you so panicked? You're sure to get dozens of boys asking you to the ball. I don't see the problem."

Jasmine could feel her control start to slip again as her breathing quickened. Her desire to run, to escape, caused her stand and fidget. Not here, not now. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Feeling the magical pressure increase once again, Hermione stood up as well and stepped even closer to her friend in an effort to help at least prevent her from panicking more. "Jasmine?" she asked. She wanted to wrap the girl in a hug, but suspected that that might be counterproductive for some reason.

"The problem, Hermione, is that I don't want to be asked by dozens of boys. I don't want to be asked by any boys. There isn't a single boy in this castle that I want to go to any ball with!"

"What? I don't understand, Jasmine..."

FREAK!

"I DON'T LIKE BOYS!"

Chapter Text

With Jasmine's shouted declaration that she didn't like boys, time seemed to stop for both girls. Hermione's frown turned into a shocked expression as her brain finally put together all the pieces... and then proceeded to furiously sift through the past three years to reinterpret every statement, conversation, and interaction in light of this revelation.

Jasmine, who had slapped her hand over her mouth, was no less shocked at what she'd just blurted out. She had seen this train barreling down on her for several minutes already, completely unable to move out of the way, but that didn't prevent her from being surprised that those words had actually left her mouth. For so long she had avoided even thinking them, lest she have to confront the truth of yet another freakish part of her nature.

Don't I already have enough that's wrong with me?

Now she not only couldn't avoid it anymore, but she had revealed it to someone else as well — the one person in the world whose opinion truly mattered to her. The one person she never wanted to look upon her as a freak. And knowing Hermione, this conversation probably wasn't over yet, so how likely was it that Jasmine would be able to keep from blurting out any more of her freakish secrets?

It took a few moments for Hermione to collect herself after hearing her best friend in the world suddenly blurt out that she didn't like boys. Hermione liked to think of herself as fairly unflappable — given the sorts of things she and Jasmine had gotten into over the past three years, she'd had to grow a thick skin. Nevertheless, she wasn't prepared for an issue like this.

The fact that she always avoided thinking about romance and hormones at all probably helped — technically speaking, she couldn't claim to "like" boys, either, just for different reasons. Still, she wasn't sure how to approach this issue. She'd read little enough about the subject in general, let alone, well, this.

But Jasmine was her friend, her best friend. She'd never had a friend before Jasmine and hadn't made much headway in making other friends since. Ron and Neville were friends... well, Ron less so than Neville at this point. Hermione used to think of Ron as a closer friend, but that changed after he had turned on Jasmine when her name came out of that bloody cup. Then Neville not only became one of the few students not to accuse Jasmine of cheating but even helped her a little to prepare for the first task.

Still, she didn't have the same deep connection with them that she did with Jasmine. She couldn't understand why a skinny little witch would jump on the back of a rampaging troll to save a bossy know-it-all like her, but once Jasmine had done that for her, Hermione was hooked. She knew then with the utter certainty that only a twelve-year-old is capable of that she'd never be lonely again — and she was determined that neither would Jasmine. Hermione acknowledged that she wasn't perfect, but she wouldn't turn her back on a friend, and certainly not on her best friend.

Another one of Hermione's faults was her tendency to overthink, though, and now that was causing problems because she'd taken way too long to respond. Oh, she's starting to tremble and her eyes are tearing up... if I don't say something quick, and say the right thing, I'll end up driving her away.

Taking a deep breath — because it gave her a few extra seconds before she had to speak — Hermione began: "So... you... don't like boys?" Real smooth, just repeat her last statement — as if that will make her feel any better.

"What I mean to say is, so I understand, you... prefer girls? Romantically? Physically?" Right, that's better. Let's at least make sure I didn't mishear anything.

Jasmine took a couple of deep breaths of her own and nodded, not trusting herself to use her voice because of how terrified she was at how Hermione was going to react.

"Well... okay. Girls it is, then." Hermione was a bit surprised at how well she was taking it. Well, it's not as though I sit around pining after boys myself, so I guess the idea that she would be pining after girls instead isn't so bizarre. I suppose both are equally foreign to me.

Jasmine stared and blinked a couple of times, not sure how to react. She'd been certain that Hermione would take it badly and call her a freak. She didn't know how to process such an indifferent reaction. "What? You don't... You aren't upset? You don't think I'm a freak?"

Hermione huffed at that. "Jasmine, you're my first friend. You're my best friend. I'm not going to be upset simply because you're attracted to other girls rather than to boys. I know that isn't looked upon favorably in the muggle world, and somehow I doubt the situation is any better in the magical world, but that doesn't matter to me." Hermione's voice started to rise a little as she closed the remaining distance between them. "Actually, I'm disappointed that you'd assume I'd think you're a freak because of that. It makes you different or unusual, sure, but not a freak!"

At this, Jasmine practically collapsed against her friend. She had been holding in so much tension over the past few minutes that the release produced by Hermione's acceptance left her unable to stand by herself. Hermione was right, she should have known better. She had accepted Jasmine as a parselmouth. She had accepted Jasmine's word that she didn't enter herself into the stupid tournament. Why wouldn't she accept that Jasmine was... was... gay.

Wow, that's the first time I've been able to even think that word. Before, if I thought anything at all, it was always negatively — in terms of not being interested in certain people.

With her arms wrapped around her limp friend, Hermione guided the girl over to her bed so they could sit against it on the floor before continuing. And they were definitely going to continue — Hermione had a million questions, though she'd try to limit herself to just a few necessary ones to help get her friend past this crisis. More detailed interrogations could wait a day or so.

"Well," she began, "since there aren't any boys you'd care to ask or be willing to accept an invitation from, what about the girls in the castle? Are you interested in asking any of them?" She couldn't have missed the way Jasmine's body suddenly stiffened.

It figures that she'd immediately ask the worst possible question. "No, Hermione, it doesn't matter if there is or there isn't — I can't. There's no way I can show up with another girl as my date. I couldn't appear with a girl for a date in Hogsmeade, never mind to an international event like the Triwizard Yule Ball. That's why I'm so freaked out — I simply can't look at any boys like that, but I also can't go with anyone I might want to choose. It's... it's an impossible situation!"

At this pronouncement, Hermione pulled back a little, straightened up, and began to talk in what Jasmine and Ron had come to think of as her "professor mode" — a detailed, rational presentation totally detached from any emotions which might be connected to the subject. It could be infuriating, but her approach also usually cut to the heart of their problems and helped them arrive at practical solutions.

"Well," Hermione stated, "I see three options, though only two are realistic. First and least realistic is to ditch the ball entirely. You might succeed and not end up going, but the fallout afterwards would probably be worse than dealing with it in the first place."

"I can't disagree with that," Jasmine said, "though the idea of thumbing my nose at the tournament organizers is more than a little tempting." The ball isn't an official event, so it's not like my absence would lead to me being penalized — would it?

"Second," Hermione continued, "You could go with a boy — no, wait, hear me out — you could go with a boy who is a friend and who knows that you two are only going as friends. You may or may not have to tell him the truth about yourself, but either way you need to make sure there's no risk of misunderstandings. No romance is involved — only a couple of dances for the sake of appearances and then you go your separate ways."

It's not a very appealing option, but I suppose it's not impossible. Maybe there's enough time to get used to the idea... Neville might work. Not Ron, though!

"Finally," Hermione concluded, "You go with a girl. It would probably be best if we first researched wizarding attitudes towards gays and lesbians to be sure about the likely reactions. Taking a trusted professor into our confidence would probably be the easiest way to do that, especially if there aren't any current and reliable books on the subject in the library. A professor would hopefully be able to provide useful information and advice. I know the prospect of doing that is more than a little daunting, but it's your best chance to enjoy the ball."

Jasmine could only splutter at that suggestion. "You've got to be kidding, Hermione. We may not know exactly how the wizarding world treats people like me, but we do know how much bigotry and prejudice there is generally. Combine that with the complete absence of a single person who is publicly 'out of the closet' — no, Lockhart didn't count — and I've got a pretty good idea that the consequences of going public will not be pleasant. I haven't even wanted to admit this to myself, and I was scared to death after admitting it to you. There's no way I can announce to the entire school, heck to all of wizarding Britain, that I'm... I'm..."

"That you're gay, Jasmine? A lesbian?"

Jasmine sighed and nodded. She'd only just managed to think the word and wasn't quite ready to say it aloud. "Can you imagine what Rita Skeeter would do with this?"

"Fair point, Jas, but what have you got to lose?"

"Huh?"

"Listen, Jas, I absolutely hate how this school has treated you — and not only this year, either. It's like every other year it's your turn to be a pariah." Jasmine could only wince in agreement at that.

"It's not right and it's not fair. And while things are better for you now than they were before the first task, there's still way more hostility than you deserve. But that's kind of my point: people are already mad at you for a stupid reason that isn't your fault. I know it sounds odd, but maybe this is the best possible time to come out of the closet? Unless you intend to live a life of isolation and misery, you're going to have to tell at least some people eventually — why not do it now, when people are mad at you anyway? Do it now on your own terms rather than wait for someone to discover it and do it for you. What's more, events of the tournament are likely to overshadow such news, so maybe people will stop talking about it sooner rather than later."

"Hermione, 'odd' doesn't even begin to describe that idea," Jasmine said as she frowned in concentration. Hermione didn't respond, though — she knew that Jasmine had to work these things out for herself. Hermione had learned, after more than a few hard feelings and tears, that she couldn't browbeat Jasmine into agreeing with her. That wasn't how a friend acted and Hermione had been working hard to learn how to be a better friend for Jasmine. If she tried to push too hard, she'd only send her in the opposite direction.

Jasmine sighed. "I don't know. The possible consequences of that plan frighten me. As bad as they are, though, the other two might be worse."

"Well," Hermione responded, "let's think about whether taking a girl to the Yule Ball is even realistic. If it's not, then the plan isn't worth considering. We can go talk to McGonagall after dinner, if you're willing to trust her. She might even do something like swear an oath, if we impress upon her how serious and personal this is."

"I don't know, I have my doubts about her. I'd only be willing to discuss it with her if we can be certain she won't talk to others."

"Why would you have doubts about McGonagall? No, wait, that's not important right now. Before we take that step, we need to talk about possible dates. Is there in fact any girl in the castle that you'd like to ask out on a date? If not, the rest of this is pointless. If there is, we should talk about whether there's a chance she'd say yes — you don't want to approach someone who's definitely going to say no and/or will spread malicious gossip about you."

Jasmine stiffened at that. How did she move so quickly and calmly from one topic I never, ever wanted to talk about straight to the other topic I never, ever wanted to talk about — especially with her! Jasmine had no idea how to respond. What could she possibly say? So she did the next logical thing: she froze up like a small, fluffy bunny hoping it wouldn't be seen by the large, hungry predator passing by.

Unfortunately for her, Hermione wasn't about to forget that Jasmine was sitting right next to her. Or that she had just asked her a question. For some reason, Jasmine still had not mastered being able to disappear from existence simply by willing it to happen.

"Jasmine, I can still see you. No, you haven't disappeared. I don't understand what's so hard about the question — are there any girls you fancy enough to take to the ball? If so, who? Wait, it's not someone awful, is it? It's not Pansy Parkinson?"

"What? Ewww, no, what is the matter with you?" Jasmine started gagging, "How do you keep thinking stuff like that? I haven't gotten the taste out of my mouth from the whole Malfoy thing..." At that point she looked over at her friend and saw the smirk on her face. "You! You're doing that on purpose!"

Hermione's smirk grew more smug. "Well, you stopped obsessing over awful thoughts about your situation, right?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure that creating images in my brain about being romantically involved first with Draco Malfoy and then with Pansy Parkinson is an improvement. Gah, I'm going to need to be oblivated now..."

"Don't blame me that you started thinking about Parkinson in that way. Maybe your subconscious is trying to send you a message? I just asked a question — and I had to ask because you're avoiding the previous question I asked. And you know it."

Jasmine's shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes as she tried to come up with some way to get out of this. Unfortunately, she had experienced far too many of Hermione's investigations — both as a target and as an observer — to have much hope of that. At one time she could distract the bossy little witch by focusing on her behavior and objecting to being pushed or bullied, but Hermione had learned from those arguments and had gotten a lot better. It was nice to not be pushed so hard by someone she cared about, but it was annoying that she had lost one of her few methods of avoiding questions she didn't like.

Rather than continue to berate Jasmine for an answer, because she had indeed learned, Hermione reached over and wrapped her friend's hand in her own while continuing to hold her other arm around the girl's shoulders. Whereas before she would try to use words to practically bully her into answering, now she simply demonstrated her unconditional support for her friend no matter what the answer would be.

That's not playing fair! How did Hermione get so good at pushing my buttons without my noticing? Under any other circumstances I'd want to lean into her, relax in her arms, and... "Yes, there is in fact someone in this castle whom I'd like to ask. No, I don't want to say who it is."

Jasmine said this so quietly that Hermione had to lean in a little closer to make sure she heard her properly. "Jas, I'm not trying to pry or invade your privacy, you know that, but if I don't know who it is I can't help you figure out if you should ask or how you should approach her. I only want to help."

If Jasmine had turned her head to face her friend, instead of looking down at her lap, she'd have found herself practically nose-to-nose to the brown-eyed witch... but that didn't mean she wasn't instantly aware of how close the other girl had gotten. How did Hermione get so much closer to me? What did I miss? Why is it getting so hot in here?

"It doesn't matter, I'm sure she doesn't think of me that way and I don't want to ruin what we already have together by pressing for more." No! Why did I say that? Please don't think about that... please please please don't think about that...

Hermione frowned. She didn't miss much of what went on around her, even if she didn't always let on how much she noticed, and she certainly didn't miss the obvious implications of Jasmine's words. Clearly the girl she fancies is someone she knows, and probably knows well. They already have something together? They're not dating, but they must be fairly close in some fashion. Who does she know well and is close... to...?

"Jas?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

The auburn-haired witch had never felt so vulnerable and exposed, but she could tell from Hermione's voice that short of leaping out the nearby window, there was no avoiding this oncoming train either. "It's you, Hermione. You're the one I fancy."

Chapter Text

Hermione yipped in surprise. Despite having had a good idea of what Jasmine's answer would be, she was still totally unprepared to hear the actual words. It wasn't so much that Jasmine fancied her that was shocking — or at least not only that — but that anyone would honestly tell her that they fancied her. She had convinced herself that she'd never be the target of anyone's romantic attention.

"Me? What? Why? How? When?" Merlin, could I be any less coherent? What's the matter with me?

"It's always been you, Hermione — probably since first year, in fact, but definitely since second." Jasmine continued to stare at her lap, refusing to meet her friend's eyes. "And, starting near the end of third year, it became harder and harder for me to ignore certain thoughts about you. I never chose to have feelings like this — I never wanted yet another reason to be a freak, and I certainly never wanted to involve you in it in any way. I tried to think of boys in that way, but the harder I tried the more repulsive the thoughts became. I guess that's why the idea of going on a date with a boy who's just a friend bothers me as much as it does. I have no idea when exactly my feelings for you started moving beyond mere friendship, but it's always been girls who attracted my interest... and starting at some point, it's always been you."

Hermione's brain practically seized up at this point. She had thought she was fine with Jasmine's newly-revealed sexual orientation, but maybe that was only because she had assumed that it didn't involve her. Am I really so shallow that I'm only willing to accept my best friend being gay so long as she isn't attracted to me? No, that's not me — I'm not like that and I refuse to be like that. So if it's not the fact that Jasmine is attracted to me that's giving me trouble, what is the problem?

Unfortunately, Hermione was taking so long to respond or even show any kind of outward reaction that Jasmine started assuming the worst again. "You're repulsed by me now, aren't you? Yeah, this is why I didn't want to say anything. I figured it would be hard enough for you to accept this at all, but I was sure that if you found out how I felt about you, you'd walk as far away from me as possible, as fast as possible. But you're all I've got, Hermione. I wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for you, and I don't see how I'm going to survive this tournament without you, never mind make it through to graduating from this school. I don't suppose you'd be willing to simply forget I said anything...?"

Had Hermione's brain been fully engaged, she'd have stopped Jasmine's self-deprecating rambling a lot sooner, but too much had been dumped on her that afternoon. Even Hermione Granger had limits for how quickly she could process this sort of news.

"No, Jasmine, stop," she said, holding up her hand to stop her friend talking, though her other arm remained firmly wrapped around her friend's shoulders — she was certain that separating from the vulnerable girl right now would send exactly the wrong message. "I need a moment to organize my thoughts and feelings." Hermione took a deep breath, thinking, I've got to choose my words carefully. I can't afford any misunderstandings here...

"Jas, I am not repulsed by you — I wasn't repulsed when I learned that you like girls and I'm not repulsed to learn that you fancy me in particular. I may not understand it, but I'm not repulsed by it. You will never repulse me and I will never walk away from you — no matter what you do, and especially not because of something that I know you can't control. No one can control whom they fancy or whom they fall in love with — it's something that just happens." Hermione paused for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose while trying to figure out how to proceed.

"We've never gossiped about boys and now I know why you never brought the topic up. I never gave much thought as to why you didn't, I just appreciated it, though in hindsight your admission is starting to make a lot of things make more sense. With me, though, I never brought up the topic because I wanted to avoid it entirely — I've tried to avoid any thoughts about dating and romance because I assumed nobody would ever think about me that way. I figured that if I never got my hopes up, then I'd never be disappointed. Maybe if I were already heavily invested in fantasies about boys, the idea of you thinking of me in that manner would bother me... but I'm not, so it doesn't."

Hermione paused to let all that sink in. She wanted to be sure that Jasmine understood that her best friend wouldn't be abandoning her, no matter what.

"That's why I have to ask, Jas, why me? If you like witches, then fine — but there are loads of far prettier witches in this castle to choose from, even if just for the sake of idle fantasies. At least one of those pretty witches must have the same inclinations as you — you can't possibly be the only one here. So why not seek one of them out? Why would you settle for someone like me?"

Jasmine slowly raised her head up to look her best friend, a girl she'd just admitted to fancying, directly in the eyes. Jasmine had never had the opportunity to simply stare into Hermione's eyes before. It was something she'd always avoided, no matter how often she stole less-than-casual glances at her, because she was afraid of what such an intimate action might reveal. Now, though, she was past the point of no return and decided that she needed to gather up whatever remained of her Gryffindor courage so she could keep going.

That is, she would if she could stop being distracted by those big, beautiful brown eyes. Merlin, when did her eyes get to be so... so... wait, what was I doing?

Closing her own eyes for a few seconds to reestablish her original train of thought, such as it was, Jasmine plowed on ahead: "Why you, Hermione? Why not you? I always knew that you didn't think much of yourself or your looks, but you need to stop and realize that others don't see you the same way you do. I know you hate your hair and I certainly don't envy you having to take care of it, but I've never thought it looked bad on you. Just the opposite, in fact — a head of untamable hair rather suits your personality."

Hermione snorted in disbelief at this, but Jasmine didn't let that deter her. "In contrast, my hair feels like it's rather straight and boring. I know you hated your large front teeth, too, but they never bothered me — and now that you've had them shrunk, you look even better. You may not look like a fashion model, but you're certainly not plain and you already have a nicely developing figure. You're definitely getting more shapely than I am.

"But in the end, all of those things are superficial. They aren't the most important things about you." Hermione's eyes widened at that statement and she clearly wanted Jasmine to explain.

"Look, I know you're not perfect. You have plenty of bad habits and annoying behaviors, same as me. We live together for ten months out of the year, so I think I've seen you at your worst just as you've seen me at my worst. And more than once, too. The truth is, I've been falling for you despite your flaws. You may not be perfect, but I've been coming to realize that you're perfect for me. And that's all anyone can ask for, isn't it?"

At those words, Hermione's brain seized up once again. She'd never expected to hear anything like this — she had always assumed that her physical and personality flaws would drive people away, not be dismissed or even attract someone. While her brain was trying to comprehend this, the realization started to creep in that that might be just about the most romantic thing she'd ever heard.

This insidious combination of "romantic" with "Jasmine Potter" caused her brain to finally restart, but it chose to do so by presenting combinations of events and feelings that she had never put together before. Jasmine acting as a heroine, saving a damsel in distress from a rampaging troll. Jasmine tightly embracing her one last time before stepping through black flames to face Voldemort. Jasmine holding her petrified hand night after night in the hospital wing. Jasmine and Hermione, taking a scary but romantic flight in the middle of the night on a stolen Hippogriff. Hermione embracing Jasmine, this time before the latter faced off against a Hungarian Horntail.

Wait, what? Where the bloody hell did all of that come from?

"Jasmine, I... I..." At a complete loss for words, she slumped forward, bringing her forehead into contact with Jasmine's. Neither could see that the other was blushing furiously. Hermione tried to start again: "I'm not sure what to do. I don't understand why you're attracted to me, but I'll accept it and not argue against it. I'm not attracted to girls but... well, I guess I'm not not attracted to girls. I mean, romantic attraction isn't a subject I've thought a lot about. I haven't wanted to, so if I'm going to be completely honest I guess I'm not sure exactly who I am or am not attracted to."

Jasmine lifted her head slightly so she could look at Hermione, and the other witch could clearly see a spark of unexpected hope begin in her green eyes.

Sighing, Hermione continued after a short pause, "I can also honestly say that while I've never seriously considered dating or dancing with another girl, the thought also doesn't repulse me. Maybe I only ever connected romance with boys because that's what society — muggle and magical — keeps telling us is 'normal.' Does that mean that I am or could be attracted to girls? I don't know — and I'm not sure if sitting here daydreaming about such things is enough to let me know. Maybe... maybe I should try? Just to see how it feels rather than rely on imagining how it would feel?"

Upon hearing those words, Jasmine pulled back so she could look her friend directly in her eyes. "Do you mean... would you really want to go to the Yule Ball with me? But if you're not sure if you want it, you'll end up being harassed for no good reason! At least with me, they'd be hating me for something that's true about me."

Hermione started biting her bottom lip, an action that always distracted Jasmine, and in this conversation the distraction was worse than ever. "Jas, you're my best friend. I've always stood by you and helped you, no matter what. I've risked my life to help you, so going on a date with you to a ball seems rather minor in comparison — especially considering how important the date is for you. Even if it turns out that I don't have the slightest romantic interest in girls generally or you specifically, a single date is hardly a big sacrifice.

"I'm not going to lead you on and I'm not going to make any promises — I don't know how I'll truly feel about it. But I'm willing to give it a try. It's only a date with some dancing. Aren't you always telling me that I can learn more by doing and acting rather than merely reading books? Maybe this is one of those situations."

Jasmine started biting her own bottom lip — neither she nor Hermione were aware of how many of the other girl's mannerisms Jasmine had slowly been adopting over the years. "Maybe we don't have to go that far and take that much of a risk."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

Jasmine didn't respond immediately, and Hermione could tell that she was gathering up her courage again. "If you're willing to do something to see if you might be attracted to girls, or even just to me, I don't think it's necessary to go through all the time and effort of a Yule Ball date. I think there's a smaller but more significant option we can try."

"Oh?" Hermione was curious what Jasmine had in mind. Going out on a date seemed like the most obvious and best way to decide if dating a girl was what she wanted.

Jasmine leaned in towards Hermione again and said softly, "Kiss me."

Hermione's eyes widened almost impossibly and she sputtered, "K-kiss?" Her earlier blush returned, stronger than ever.

Jasmine smiled. "Yes, kiss me. If you can kiss me without gagging, then we have a chance. If you kiss me and you enjoy it — despite our total lack of experience at kissing — then I'd say that our chances are very good. But if you kiss me and are bothered by it, then there's no point in going to the Yule Ball together. A kiss is much smaller than a date, but it could be much more significant. And no one need ever know about it, if we don't want them to, so there's less risk for you."

Unable to get out even a single word now, Hermione simply stared at Jasmine, her eyes shifting back and forth from the girl's green eyes to her slightly parted lips. This can't be happening. This is not at all what I expected when I followed Jasmine in here earlier!

Not hearing any objections to her idea, Jasmine leaned forward ever so slightly and tilted her head to the side, waiting to see what Hermione would do. She, having trouble focusing on what her friend said, mirrored Jasmine's movements without thinking about it. Taking that as an invitation, Jasmine closed the rest of the distance and pressed her lips to Hermione's, trying to imbue this first — and maybe only — kiss with all of the emotions she'd been repressing over the past two years. She knew she might never get another chance at kissing Hermione Granger, so she was going to make the most of it while she could.

She didn't get much of a reaction, at least not at first, but she was certain that Hermione started to return the kiss. Before she could be sure, though, she started to run out of breath and had to pull back. When she opened her eyes, she could see Hermione's eyes were still closed and her lips were slightly parted. She looked like she was waiting for something.

"Hermione?" Jasmine asked in a soft voice.

The bushy-haired witch opened her eyes slowly and blinked a couple of times as she gazed distantly at something only she could see. With a slight look of surprise in her eyes, she shifted her attention back, looked intently into her friend's green eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned upwards in a small but clear smile.