Vagitarians

Anastasia Ridgeback was very pretty for a fifth-year. The rest of the girls in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory were rather average in appearance, except for Anastasia and me. Don’t think I’m full of myself, my brilliant pink hair just made me a little hard to miss. What made Anastasia so noticeable, you ask? Well, for starters, her long blonde hair tickled her round arse just right, and her breasts seemed too large to be stored away in her tight, black school robes. I’m not nearly as piggish as I sound; I was just in love with this girl. Her bed was right beside mine and every night, we would change into our pajamas together, chatting happily about our day. Ana always talked about Ravenclaw boys, and I pretended to be interested in Gryffindors. For almost five years, now, I had thought about Ana and only Ana, but she never suspected a thing. I was too afraid to say anything to her about the way I felt for her, it was too embarrassing! And what would happen if she thought something horrible about me and decided to never talk to me again? I couldn’t take that chance. There was one couple, though, that gave me hope: Stephanie Silver and Missy Curtis. The seventh-year Ravenclaw girls had been dating for three years and were planning to be married after graduation. Ana was Stephanie’s best friend, and would be her maid of honor that summer.

“How are the wedding plans going?” I asked Ana one day in the common room.

“Ooh, wonderfully!” she replied. “Missy picked out her dress and I was allowed to see it. It’s absolutely beautiful!” I smiled at her.

“Have you ever thought about being with another girl?” I asked, trying desperately to sound casual.

“You know,” she said slowly, taking time to think, “I’ve considered it, but I don’t know who I would try anything with.” My heart skipped a beat. “What about you?” I shrugged.

“I’ve thought about it,” I admitted, blushing.

“So,” she said, leaning over the arm of her chair to get closer to me, “have you thought of anyone in particular?”

“No,” I lied.

“Ooh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Have you figured out how to turn your toothpick into a worm yet?”

“Not quite,” I admitted, thankful for a change in subject.

The next morning at breakfast there was a large crowd around the Gryffindor table. Two boys stood in the middle, looking terrified into each other’s eyes.

“What do you suppose that’s about?” I asked Ana.

“Dunno,” she said. “Let’s find out!” So, we joined the large crowd.

“Stupid queers,” I heard a Slytherin boy say. I looked at Ana, she was looking at me with an odd smile on her face.

“What?” I whispered to her, turning my head so she could easily whisper into my ear. I didn’t hear anything for a second; I only felt a light tingling sensation on my cheek. I turned to look at Ana, confusion written all over my face. She was smiling.

“Hogwarts doesn’t need any fags!” called a Slytherin girl from somewhere behind us. I looked up and saw the boys blush. One of them was definitely crying.

“Silence!” a voice boomed and every head in the room turned toward the head table. Dumbledore stood at his podium with his wand to his throat. “Please, be seated.” Ana and I struggled to get through the crowd to the Hufflepuff table. She grabbed my hand to not get separated from me.