Courage | Hermione Granger Lesbian Story

Quidditch Tryouts

To say Hermione is angry with me is an understatement.

Or maybe it's not, she's not that mad. Honestly, she's just a bit annoyed. She gets angrier about S.P.E.W. I'm too dramatic.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She says, exasperated, examining the words on my hand carefully.

"I don't know, Harry was lying and I just... followed suit." Lie. Well, half lie.

Unfortunately, about a year of dating Hermione has opened her up to the ability of reading my emotions almost better than anyone.

"Please tell me the truth." She begs. I sigh, and shrug.

"It's just... Harry's are as deep as mine now, after a week, but he just had red skin after the first one. This happened to me in one detention. It just feels like I'm too weak to handle it or something. I don't know." I look determinedly at the ground, but she gently raises my chin with her fingers to look at her.

"You are not weak Brinley. Things like this affect everyone differently. Do not go beating yourself up because your skin is more damaged than Harry's, whose faced a Basilisk, Dementors, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named twice. Words can hurt more than anything, and she knew about your Dad too. That's all. Ok?"

"Ok." I whisper. She pulls me closer to her and kisses me softly, only for Fred and George to pop up a few minutes later.

"Alright, break the liplock lovebirds, Umbridge is coming. She doesn't seem to be someone who appreciates affection." Fred points out. Hermione blushes as we pull away, but I just roll my eyes at them.

"Oi, what's on your hand." George spots.

Oh no.

The twins look of shock and digust tells me everything I need to know about the upcoming events. No sooner does she round the corner than she falls, clip boards and headband flying. We stand by in alcove where she can't see us, and she proceeds to blame another nearby group.

"You gonna write to our Mum now?" Fred says to Hermione with narrowed eyes. I back out of it - this is not my fight.

"I said I'd write to your Mum if you tested on first years. A hag tripped while we stood over here, I don't know what there is to write about." Hermione shrugs.

They nod in appreciation before departing.

"We'll leave you to your snogging." George smirks as they go.

Hermione and I turn to each other, now tightly pressed in the alcove. My back is against the wall as I look up at her.

"Well, we don't want to prove them wrong." She smirks, leaning down and connecting our lips again. I wrap my arms around her neck as we press against each other.

Eventually, we have to go to our afternoon classes, which we do so begrudgingly. School gets in the way of everything.

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The weekend speeds past so quickly it's like it didn't happen at all, and tryouts arrive before I can even process the amount of homework I've been set. Pushing it aside for a bit, I head out onto the pitch - thankfully, it's a clear day, with a clear sky, couldn't have asked for anything better.

Hermione is seated in the stands with a few other students. To my dismay, Malfoy and his croonies, for lack of a better term, are also there. Ignoring the small crowd, I group the potenial members and begin to give instructions. I never pictured myself in any kind of leadership position but honestly, it seems so natural.