Raucous laughter spilled out into the Gryffindor common room from the boys' dorm. Even the closed door of the girls' dorm did little to stifle the sound.

"I wonder what's so funny?" Hermione said aloud, placing a bookmark to save her page as she looked around the room. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a number of books and parchments littered around her.

"All I know is that they'd all better show up to practice tomorrow bright-eyed and bushy-tailed because Merlin help them if Oliver catches any of them dragging," Angelina said. She blew a large bubble with her chewing gum, which popped with such a finality that it punctuated her statement perfectly. It left absolutely no one wondering what would happen if that were the case.

"You have so much hair, Hermione," Luna said, tugging at the unruly curls. The girls had succeeded in smuggling her into the dorm, despite Hermione's insistence that it wasn't a good idea. That had been the easy part. Sneaking her back out would be the real trick.

"Yes, I know. It's a right challenge to manage sometimes."

"It would look splendid in a braid, I think. Easier to handle, too. May I?" Luna crawled over to the edge of the bunk, positioning herself just behind Hermione.

"I'd rather you not." But when Hermione looked behind her, she was met with Luna's large eyes locked in an unblinking stare. They weren't asking permission, they were demanding it. With a sigh, she conceded, "Oh, all right. Try not to pull, will you?"

Luna smiled and her eyes danced with life. Hermione quickly buried her nose in a book to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips.

"We should play a game," Ginny announced. Angelina was perched at the end of her bunk, so she was careful not to kick her as she propped herself up on her elbow. "That's what girls do when they all get together, right? Like a girls' night out."

"But we're not going out anywhere," Angelina pointed out, twisting a lock of hair around her finger absentmindedly.

"Well, you know what I mean. It's just a get-together."

"We're pretty much always together."

"I'm not," Luna chimed in with a smile that seemed to brighten the room. Even though she looked up, her hands never faltered at wrestling Hermione's hair into something that resembled a French braid.

"Fair enough. What did you have in mind, Ginny?" Angelina asked.

"How about a game of Would You Rather?"

"I can't. I have far too much homework," Hermione said, not once looking up from her text. "Hey!" was the only outcry she could muster as Angelina snatched the book from her hands and shoved a paper in it to mark her page.

"You're always doing homework. You're not the only one that has it. Let's have some fun tonight."

"Fine," Hermione said through pursed lips. "Ginny, you start."

"OK, I've got one." Ginny pulled her knees towards her chest and pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bunk. "Angelina, would you rather spend a day with Moaning Myrtle in her bathroom or lose the Quidditch Cup this year?"

"Oh, no, if we lose the Cup this year, I'll go into hiding. Might end up spending time with Moaning Myrtle anyway. I mean, you don't think Oliver would look for me there, do you?"

"I think he'd turn this castle inside-out to find you," Hermione said with a small snort of laughter at the idea of Oliver barging into all the girls' rooms like a hound dog on a hunt.

"You're probably right," Angelina agreed, chewing on her nails absentmindedly. "I'd definitely try my luck with Moaning Myrtle. Can't be any worse than Oliver's wrath, right?"

"That means it's your turn, Angelina," Ginny said.

"Give me a minute to think of something."

"There, all done," Luna announced, leaning back as she sized up her handiwork. "Does that feel any better?"

"Actually, yes," Hermione said, reaching back and running her fingers along the length of the braid. Luna beamed about the success of her creation, ignoring the fact that Hermione was clearly surprised that she had been right.

"Oh, I've got a good one," Angelina said, scooting to the edge of the bunk and leaning forward. "Hermione, would you rather date Harry or Ron?"

"Neither!" The look on Hermione's face made it clear that just the thought of it provided her some amount of mental distress. She scrunched up her face in silent indignation, and Angelina couldn't help but laugh.

"Why would anyone want to date my brother?" Ginny asked. An involuntary shudder shook her body at the thought. "Gross."

"You spend an awful lot of time with them," Luna said. "There must be some reason you would date one of them?"

"Not hardly." Hermione scoffed at the idea.

"Well, Harry's famous," Ginny said, chewing on the side of her lip. "And he's really not all that bad to look at."

"Plus, he's got real skills when it comes to Quidditch." Angelina blew a small bubble with her gum and popped it as she hastily added, "Don't tell him I said that. I'll deny it. Can't have him getting full of himself."

"And Ron's funny," Luna said. "He has a good sense of humor. And he's loyal. That's something, right?"

"And he tries to help," Ginny added. "I mean, he's bloody awful at it, but at least he tries."

"They're my best friends," Hermione admitted, "but I could never date one of them. That'd be weird."

"Well, you have to answer the question. That's how the game works."

Hermione looked at the floor and began fidgeting. It started with a shuffling of her feet from cross-legged to almost every other imaginable position, ending, once again, with them crossed. It moved on to leafing through papers and books, toppling piles. Any sort of distraction. They all proved useless. When she looked up again, all three girls were still watching her like stone gargoyles from their perches, expecting an answer.

"Fine." She sighed heavily just so they would know how exasperate she was. It was useless. None of them cared about her quiet fury, they just wanted an answer. "I suppose, if I absolutely had to choose...Ron."

The room devolved into an outpouring of giggles and one long, low whistle, after which Angelina exclaimed, "I knew it!"

Hermione mumbled something under her breath. She snatched the closest book and buried her face in it to disguise the fact that a crimson tinge was creeping its way across her cheeks in waves of warmth. Even the book couldn't mask the giggles that surrounded her, nor the boisterous laughter coming from the boys' dorm down the hall.

Author's Note: Thanks to HermionieG for the idea of doing this for the girls' dorm. This is written for the "This Means War" competition round one. Prompt: Girls' Night Out, Trio Era. I actually had more fun with this than I thought I would! If you enjoy what I write, please feel free to follow me. :) Thank you all for taking the time to read this.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.