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Perhaps the worst kept secret in Hufflepuff (beating out Harry and Nott’s fascinating dating-not-dating dynamic that everyone is still betting on) is the fact that Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones have been in love with each other before they ever knew what love was. While Susan had joined the initial trio of Harry-Hannah-Neville after the sorting, her immediate attachment to Hannah—and through her, Harry and Neville, though those relationships were no less important—had been immediately noted by everyone around her.
The upper years thought it cute, the little den of badgers surrounding the clearly affectionate (if a little rabid) Harry. It was only later, as the group ebbed and flowed into smaller interconnected groups, adding other houses into the mix as they went, that people really noticed the way Susan looked at Hannah like she hung the moon, and the way that Hannah looked at Susan as if she were the only person in the room.
From there, really, what could they do? Clearly, neither of them was ready to face their feelings yet. That said, they were obvious, and Smith nearly ended up smothered the first time he tried to make snide comments about their dynamic—Harry, everyone learned, was sweet and warm until you mentioned his friends. No one was entirely certain what the dark-haired boy had told Smith, but Smith didn’t look at Hannah and Susan for a month that year and had practically run from the room whenever Harry gave him a smile just a little too full of teeth.
Harry’s potentially dubious morals and their Professor Blackwell’s clear approval aside (and that was another one of the not-secrets of Hogwarts, the fact that Harry’s uncle was the professor that had finally gotten Binns ousted and single-handedly revitalized the student’s interest in History of Magic), neither girl had come clean about their relationship yet.
Some quieter members of the house liked to point out that they might not have even realized it themselves, yet. They tended to be ignored, though—clearly they had to know about it, with how close the two girls were and the way they held hands constantly.
Harry knew better, though. He’d been watching the two of them dance around each other, the close-one-second-looking-away-the-next, the frustration when Susan went to the Yule ball with a boy, the longing glance when Hannah danced with the handsome Beauxbaton boy. Frankly, he was getting rather sick of the pining—he loved his friends, but they were ridiculous.
And no, he wasn’t a hypocrite. Whatever not-relationship he had with Nott had no bearing on his ability to assess and observe his friends’ odd courting behaviors. Aunt Nessa said that some people just took a while to notice that their pining wasn’t one-sided, and some people tended to be in denial until they literally got knocked over the head with a stirring rod because they were too distracted to listen to their not-girlfriend talk.
Uncle Valerian said that sometimes, not-girlfriends were so pretty and smart that it was hard to pay attention to what they were actually saying.
Harry could have done without watching his Aunt and Uncle make sappy moon eyes at each other, thanks.
But the point was, Harry knew better. He wasn’t always the most observant, but he watched and listened and saw enough to notice when Hannah started acting particularly skittish around Susan. Susan noticed, too, and seemed very bummed out by the behavior—and confused, because it seemingly came out of nowhere, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.
But Harry thought he might have an idea about what was going on, and it was for that reason that he caught Hannah’s sleeve right around curfew and gave her a look. They’d have to be careful, of course—Umbridge was still a bitch, even if Uncle Valerian was doing a brilliant job at keeping her in check. But that was what the invisibility cloak was for.
Aunt Nessa disagreed, but Harry and Uncle Valerian agreed that what Aunt Nessa didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
But the invisibility cloak was what enabled Hannah and Harry to slip out of the common room and into the kitchens. The house elves didn’t even blink at the sight of them—more than used to the two of them raiding the kitchens for a cup of hot chocolate or a midnight snack. They had permission from Professor Blackwell, after all.
Hot chocolate mugs warming their hands, they sat across from each other at one of the little tables. The house elves were bustling around them, cleaning up and preparing for breakfast in the morning, as they sat in silence for a long moment.
Then, without prompting or urging, Hannah whispered, “I’m in love with Susie.”
Harry took a sip of his hot chocolate, then he said, “I know that. But I know you just realized that. Is it a bad thing, or a good thing?”
Hannah took a deep breath. “… Good-bad. I didn’t know that I was… That I liked…”
“That you like the way Susan’s skirt swishes more than you like the way Nev’s shirt has started clinging to his arms?”
Hannah couldn’t help the slightly watery laugh, and Harry shoved down the thrill of panic he felt at the sound. He really hoped he could derail the waterworks before they started, because Harry was as useless as Uncle Val at dealing with tears.
“Not everyone is a bisexual disaster like you, Hazza.”
Harry made an affronted sound. “That’s pansexual disaster, thank you very much. Pretty is just pretty.” He shrugged his shoulders, then reached out and gently placed his hand on Hannah’s arm, looking at her serious. “Seriously, though. What’s worrying you the most?”
“Not your godfather.” Hannah giggled wetly at the unimpressed look on Harry’s face, then sighed. “… What if she doesn’t feel the same?” Harry’s snort got a glare from her. “I’m serious! She’s never said anything before, or indicated that she’s interested.”
Harry sighed, put upon. He was the one that wore glasses, so why were his friends so damn blind? He was fifteen years old, he did not sign up to be a therapist. Pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger, he looked at her seriously.
“Han, Suze has looked at you like you’ve hung the moon and all the stars in the sky since we were twelve and you punched Ernie in the face. You two are almost never apart, and when you are, you cling to each other for like… ten minutes every time you reunite. I’m pretty sure Suze would murder anyone who tried to hurt you, and I mean—I would too, but her aunt’s the head of the DMLE. That’s kind of a big deal, you know.”
Hannah’s face was red, and she giggled a little at the words. But she still looked worried, and after Harry’s pointed look, she continued.
“I… haven’t told my parents. That I like girls.”
Understanding crossed Harry’s face. After all, Uncle Val was always telling him that, while the wizarding world was relatively accepting of same-sex couples, the muggle world was not. Since Hannah was a halfblood, it was only natural that she was a bit worried about it.
“Oh, Han… I’ve met your parents. They love you. And I’m pretty sure they’ve guessed it—they get that weirdly indulgent look on their face whenever you and Suze are in the same room together. They’ve specifically told you to leave the door open before, remember?”
Hannah blushed and took another drink, then hesitated a moment.
“You think?”
“Hannah, I’m certain that your parents will support you. And if they don’t, Aunt Nessa is more than happy to adopt you. You’re her favorite, anyway.”
Hannah laughed at that, and there was no trace of tears left in her eyes when she beamed at him with that toothy grin of hers. Harry laughed with her, and they chatted about other things—mainly making fun of Smith and how snooty he was, the way he was trying to suck up to Umbridge. When they finished their hot chocolate, they thanked the house elves and went to bed.
***
It was a week later that things came to a head. Harry spotted Hannah coming into the common room, clutching a letter in her hands with a look of determination on her face. Harry’s eyes lit up when they met Hannah’s, and he grinned.
“You’ve told your parents, then?”
“Yeah. Have you seen Susie?”
Harry grinned at her, the sight of the determined look on her face making him happy. He nodded and then jabbed his thumb towards the entrance to the girls’ dorm.
“She spilled pumpkin juice on her blouse, so she’s changing. She’s alone right now.”
Hannah squared her shoulders, patted him on the cheek, and then marched her way towards the dorms. The common room was quiet a moment before they exploded with sound.
“Fuck, does this mean Harry won the pot? He said they’d get together before Christmas!”
Harry felt smug, but that paled in comparison to the happiness he felt when Hannah and Susan walked into the common room, hand in hand, with Susan’s pink lipstick suspiciously missing.
He was the best friend.