Harry Potter Why the Hell Not?

**I'm in the mood for some humor, so I got on Pinterist and scoured for some funny, and in the process came up with this. It's sort of like the iPod challenge, except with random quotes. I had fun doing this, and I hope that you all enjoy the snippet. I swear, I'm not drunk. May get there, however...**

* * *

"Life is short," Hermione heard a familiar voice say, "buy the shoes."

The former Gryffindor student turned away from the obscenely comfortable black pumps she'd just been trying on and looked at the Hogwarts Headmistress. "They feel devine," she replied, "though the price ticket is a bit high for my liking."

"Let me buy you lunch," Minerva said after a short pause, "and I'll pay for half the cost of the shoes."

"You seem to have a weakness regarding mathematics," Hermione commented with a chuckle. "As you seem to be offering me the deal of a lifetime."

"Perhaps I just really want to have lunch with you," the older witch said suggestively, cause Hermione to gasp slightly.

"Are...are you asking me out on a date, Minerva?" the twenty three year old asked incredulously. In fairness, she'd always harbored a soft spot for her former professor, but she'd never considered anything beyond a friendship with the older which. On the other hand, she _was_ a lesbian, and that had become common knowledge in the Wizarding world.

"Well, I had been thinking as friends, but if the notion of a date with me does not totally turn you off," the older woman said cheekily, "then I should probably upgrade my choice in venues."

"You...you…" Hermione sputtered.

"Yes, dear?"

"Wow," the younger woman breathed out. "I, um...yea, I think I'd like that."

"Shall we go then?" Minerva asked, offering her hand.

"Of course," Hermione replied happily.

"Hermione…"

"Yeah?"

Minerva pointed to the younger witch's feet, and then to her discarded tennis shoes a few feet away. "If you're going to take the shoes home, we need to pay for them first."

"Oops."

* * *

"The most dangerous animal in the world," Hermione mused, watching her lunch companion, "is a silent, smiling woman."

"What would you know about me being an animal?" Minerva asked, "as I've not taken you to bed as of yet?"

"What is with you today?" the younger woman asked, blushing madly. "You're...so… different."

"Honestly," Minerva replied. "I lost a bet with a friend of mine, and the cost of which is that for a full twenty-four hours, I must go about life acting on every impulse. A day of _why the hell not?_, if you will."

"So asking me out was an impulse?" Hermione inquired. "You're not secretly in love with me or something?"

"I don't think so," the Headmistress frowned. "However, I cannot deny that I find you attractive. Beyond the physical. Any other day, I would have pushed that thought from my mind and perhaps just said hello to you in the shoe store, but today…"

"You randomly said to yourself, _I feel like asking my former student out_?" Hermione finished.

"Pretty much."

"How's that working for you so far?"

"Pretty damn good, if I might say so myself."

* * *

"Women think naughty thoughts way more than statistics say we do. We are worse than a raging hormonal teen boy," Hermione stated with a grin, "But smart enough to hide the evidence."

"Too true!" Minerva said, laughing. "I couldn't agree more!"

The lunch conversation between the two witches was running into the late afternoon. Eventually, the pair agreed that if they stayed much longer, they would feel guilty not ordering more to eat, and as neither was at all hungry at that point, Hermione suggested they return to her flat to continue chatting.

"Just chatting?" Minerva asked.

"Well if you want to snog me senseless," the younger witch shrugged, "far be it from me to stop you."

"May the mood take us pleasant places," Minerva grinned.

* * *

"I hate the word Homophobia. It's not a phobia. You're not scared. You're an asshole!" Minerva ranted, glass of wine nearly spilling as she flopped on Hermione's sofa.

"I know," the younger woman nodded. "It's senseless. The Wizarding world is far more socially advanced than the muggles in that way. When I told my parents I was a lesbian, the first thing my mum said was '_are you sure?'_, and my dad went on a thirty minute rant about how my life would be ruined if I went prancing about all goo-goo eyed over some girl."

"Tossers," Minerva huffed.

"Indeed."

* * *

Hours later, Hermione and Minerva seemed to have discussed everything under the sun, and as the sun was now actually setting, each were wondering what had happened today, and what it might mean for tomorrow.

For her part, Minerva was a bit dizzy from copious amounts of wine, and was leaning back on the sofa contently, internally wishing this day was not coming to an end. Hermione, on the other hand, was trying to determine how to _not _let this day end; not yet, at least. She knew if nothing physical happened between she and her former Professor, the day would be passed off as nothing more than the consequence of Minerva's bet with her friend, and tomorrow, there would be nothing.

"I have lips," she finally said, touching her mouth, feeling the tingle of too much to drink.

"Oh?" Minerva smirked.

"You have lips, too," Hermione added.

"Interesting," the older witch said, smile growing as Hermione moved to straddle her.

"Wanna shag?"

"We haven't even kissed yet, my dear," Minerva replied, amused at her former student's bluntness.

"We can do that too," Hermione assured her.

"Now?"

"I think so."

"Alright then," Minerva smiled, pulling the younger woman close and capturing the warm, plump lips of her companion.

After all… why the hell not?

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Harry Potter, Humor, Romance