Labels || Drarry One-Shots

Genderbent Yule

Hermione and Harriet were sat together with Ron underneath the shady willow tree near the murky, mysterious lake. Hermione was pouring over her homework per usual; Harriet was dragging a stick around the dirt and grass, creating a multitude of abstract patterns in the ground; Ron was voicing his frustration in not being able to find a "good enough date" for the ball.

"Every decent girl seems to be taken! And how am I supposed to get one alone if they all travel in packs? They're bloody vicious, they are." He sat quietly for another moment before a slow smile crept along his face." Harriet, you're popular; you could ask for me!"

"No can do, mate," she teased, "I don't think it'll be all that easy to convince them to dance with an absolute git."

Ron shoved his shoulder Harriet's and groaned. Suddenly, as if a clever plan hatched inside his brain, he turned slyly towards Hermione. "Hermione... You're a girl..."

"Stellar observation, Ron."

"I could go with you! I mean, for a boy to go alone is understandable, but for a girl? That's just embarrassing."

Hermione looked up with hurt and anger on her face. "For your information, Ronald, I have been asked! Just because it's taken you this long to come to that stunning conclusion, doesn't mean no one else has! And for your information, I said yes!" She slumped against the tree trunk, brooding and muttering underneath her breath.

Ron rolled his eyes with a sneer, but cleared his face when he rounded back onto Harriet. "I'd ask you, but you're like one of the guys. It's be too weird."

"Agreed."

"Plus, you've already got a date, haven't you?"

"Well, no, actually. I, uh, I haven't asked 'em yet. Plan to do it later today, though." She contradicted. Harriet stood up, stepped away from Ron, and sat beside Hermione, comforting her and agreeing that Ron was an absolute prat and smiling when Hermione spilled the beans that she had agreed to accompany Viktor Krum.

-----

Two weeks later, Harriet glanced at herself in the Gryffindor girls' fourth year dormitory mirror, and the sight she saw pleased her. Her usually unruly hair had graciously decided to remain tucked into the bun on the top of her head. Two pieces of shoulder length raven black hair framed her face, falling in calm waves. Her lips were painted a deep red and her eyes were lined with a bold winged eyeliner beneath lashes darkened with mascara, not that the hairs could even get any darker. Her thin frame was encased in a sleeveless black dress that hugged her body in all the right places and stopped just below her knee.

Hermione bounced beside her, baring a whimsical powder blue dress. "You look fantastic, Harriet!" She marveled at the make-up job she had given to her friend. "I'm sure I could make your lashes pop just a bit more if you'd just let me curl them!"

"No, no, Hermione, it's fine!" Harriet blocked her face with her hands. "But you look brilliant as well! Krum won't know what hit him!" She dared the glance between her fingers. "Neither will Ron..." She quirked an eyebrow, watching in satisfaction as Hermione blushed crimson.

"Hush, Ri!" Hermione rolled her eyes in false nonchalance. "And why can't you tell me who you're going with? I promised not to tell anyone; not even Ron! And I said I wouldn't harass him about it!"

Harriet glanced down at her mini boots, which she insisted on wearing despite her friend's disapproval, and smiled, feeling a small bit of heat rise to her cheeks. "I'm just not ready for you to know."