y/n x hermione gxg one shots

i wish you were a boy...

a/n: TW mention of an anxiety attack. do not read if you're uncomfortable or if this is triggering for you. also, this whole one shot is about internalized h0m0phobia, so if this is triggering for you, do not read!

Sometimes, when she looks at Y/N without her noticing, Hermione thinks that it feels right. The way she smiles, the way she laughs, the way her hands always somehow end up touching an arm, a shoulder, a back. The electricity, the adrenaline. But then Y/N looks back at her, and the butterflies in her stomach turn into heavy stones. No, this is definitely not right. It can't be.

Because Y/N is a girl, and Hermione can't like girls.

One night of May, when the sun was already set and the sky turned indigo, Hermione was sitting at her favourite spot. The seventh floor was always empty, most of its classes unoccupied, and the view was always the best. She could spend hours there, sitting by a window, and read. That night, however, Hermione was not alone in the abandoned hallway.

"Late night reading?" Y/N said as a way of greeting, advancing uncertainly towards Hermione.

Now, who was Y/N to Hermione? Honestly, it was a bit confusing.

They were surely more than acquaintances, talking regularly, as their friend groups were sometimes involved with one another. Friends? Perhaps. They did have a lot in common and spent some alone time occasionally. There, they would allow themselves to be more vulnerable, more intimate... Never mind, just acquaintances. That's more like it. Because acquaintances never end up falling for each other.

Hermione smiled briefly, but softly, "I like being alone in here sometimes. You know, get away from all the chaos once in a while."

Something flashed on Y/N's face but was quickly dismissed as the Hufflepuff added, "I can go if that's what you prefer—"

"Oh! No, that's not what I was implying!" Hermione quickly cut off Y/N, who was slowly beginning to back off.

"Great!" Y/N smiled, "Or— well— I mean, cool! Yeah, that's cool..."

It fell silent between them, only the faint chirping of crickets and rustling feathers of the forest heard in the distance. Hermione gently cleared her throat, scooting over so that Y/N could sit. With a reciprocated smile, Y/N obliged and sat in front of her, not daring saying a word.

"What brings you here?" Hermione whispered. She knew her voice would get all wobbly and shaky — it somehow always did when she was around Y/N — so she resigned to keeping her voice as quiet as possible.

"Looking for you, I must admit," Y/N said, quickly looking away to stare at the beauty far below. The stars dimly reflected through her eyes, sparks of gold illuminating them as she gazed at the dark cloudless night sky.

Looking for her? Do acquaintances casually do that? Well, friends probably do — I mean, she spends most of her days looking for Harry or Ron. But, why?

"Oh, okay," was all Hermione could think of saying.

"You know you do that thing where you always look down and fidget with your hands when you're nervous?" Y/N asks with a fond smile playing at her lips.

Hermione's head snapped back up, and she laid her hands flat on her thighs, earning a soft laugh from Y/N.

"Proving my point."

"I'm not nervous," Hermione retorted, her hands firmly gripping her jeans now.

"Your knuckles are white," Y/N pointed out, and it was so hard to keep a straight face when Y/N was smiling the way she did.