Disclaimer: Nothing. I get nothing. I own nothing. I want nothing. Except for perhaps the real Hermione Granger to come back to the HP series. Please…grant me this one wish.
After all, I already got to meet The Killers. *dies of happiness*
A/N: Linz, I have come to the conclusion that you can read my mind. I swear. I came on two seconds before you did, called for you in my brain, and you appeared to beta this like some wonderful, magical, gAlinda the good witch.
You rock my Wicked socks.
(This chapter brought to you by…The Cure's Close to Me. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program!)
*~*~*~*~*
You woke up that morning feeling a devilish pounding in your head, and a wonderful tingle throughout your body. But the sensation that startled you the most was the glowing warmth of your feet.
Your feet were never warm.
Your whole life, you had always woken up with cold feet. Even on those rare occasions when you had enough presence of mind to stick some socks on before going to bed, you always managed to kick them off in the middle of the night, and awake with your feet curved into odd angles trying to stay as warm as possible.
But your feet weren't curved into any odd angles.
In fact, your feet were in an entirely normal angle. The abnormality of it was that they were, in fact, intertwined with what you could only discern to be another pair of feet…
Girl feet.
You knew what boy feet looked like, and you knew what girl feet felt like, and you were quite positive that it was girl feet that were keeping your feet warm.
With a growing sense of reckless adventure, you decided to unhinge one of your feet, and start exploring the situation. You moved your foot up, and found that these feet were very much attached to legs. Girl legs. You had seen boy legs, and had felt girl legs, and you were quite suddenly aware that the backs of your thighs were very much pressed to the back of girl thighs. Very nice girl thighs…
You also realized you were quite naked. And that the person next to you was also quite naked.
You scratched your head. What exactly had happened last night? Did Ron get you so drunk that you randomly went home with some girl? No…you were in your room, so did that mean you brought some random girl home?
Did Hermione know? Had she seen you drunkenly pick some girl up and bring her home?
It was that thought that made you jump out of bed in a panic. For some strange reason, the very idea that a scenario like that had gone down made all the alcohol you had consumed the previous night rise in your throat…
But then things got worse. Much worse.
"Merlin's teeth!" you exclaimed, realizing that in your panic you had pulled the covers off your bed, and there, sprawled in an innocently inviting pose, lay your best friend of eleven years, Hermione Granger-naked.
In your bed.
And judging from…well…the way your body felt, something had definitely happened the night before.
*~*~*~*~*
"Look who just got engaged!" he yelled to his drunken audience.
You really did want to kill him. That Ron…he was a clever chap, much more than you sometimes gave him credit for. He had pulled a fast one on you, using that Romilda to apparate you into the pub…
You gave Hermione an apologetic look. What else could you do?
"Who'd you say is engaged there, lad?" asked Tom the barman jovially from his perch behind the bar.
The loud bustling of the Leaky Cauldron's patrons lowered to a very low buzzing…everyone was starring with interest.
Ron was going to die.
"Why, none other than our very own Harry Potter!" Ron finished triumphantly, slapping you on the back. He was working up quite a show…and it worked. Everyone sighed enthusiastically.
Ron was going to die a very painful death.
"You're kiddin'?" Tom said excitedly. "And what lucky witch has cast her spell on him?"
"Hermione Granger, naturally," replied Romilda good-naturedly, shoving Hermione forward.
The buzzing rose significantly.
"Of course Hermione Granger…" came the whispers from across the entire pub.
"Always knew it would be her. Remember Rita's articles?"
"Fancies the famous wizards, doesn't she?"
"Oh…he deserves to find happiness. What with the loss of…what was her name? The red-headed one…"
By this time, all you really wanted was to grab the mutinous looking Hermione and escape with her. After all, you felt how she looked.
So why didn't you?
"Oh, won't you look at the happy couple!" beamed Tom from behind the bar. "And they've come to celebrate the happy event in my bar…well…guess what? Free drinks on the house tonight, everyone! Its time to celebrate the happiness of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Triumphed!"
Everyone in the bar erupted in thunderous applause, dozens of glasses clanking, and people yelling "cheers!" Tom handed Ron a bottle of a dangerous looking something, while all around you and Hermione, curious witches and wizards offered you their congratulations, and tried to weasel wedding details out of you.
Ok, so maybe you wouldn't kill Ron yourself. Perhaps you'd bribe the entire Chudley Canons team into losing every single game for the rest of the season. This way, not only would Ron die, he'd die slowly…heart problems withering him away little by little…
"I. Cannot. Believe. You. Just. Did. That." Hermione hissed as Ron poured her a lethal quantity of that dangerous looking something. She wrinkled her nose at it.
"Relax, oh happy bride to be. Enjoy yourself. Here. Let's have a toast: may your marriage be happy and fruitful…"
"Here here!" came a cry from the table next to theirs.
"You never told me you were engaged," said Luna pleasantly, as she used her fingers to play around with a Butterbeer cap. You snickered at the absurdity of it all.
Hermione blushed. "I'm getting out of here."
She stalked away, steam practically coming out of her hair. You wanted to run after her and apologize for Ron acting like himself, but thankfully, she did not get very far: a nasty bunch of spiteful witches came out of nowhere, and began demanding to see the ring.
"I'm sure it must be divine," said a tall freckled brunette, eyes gleaming greedily.
"Of course, he's Harry Potter, and rich…" said a shorter blonde.
"How did you manage to enchant him, anyway? You didn't use a love potion, did you…?"
"Oh, do show us the ring already!" snapped a lanky redhead.
Hermione looked like she was caught in a trap.
You noticed that she hid both her hands behind her.
"Luna, can I borrow this?" you said, snatching the Butterbeer cap away from her before she could reply.
Soon enough, you were standing behind her, surreptitiously sliding a ring on her finger.
You never found Luna's obsession with Butterbeer caps more wonderful.
She turned to look at you, clearly confused. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
But you didn't reply. What exactly were you doing?
"This is her ring," you said to the abominable group of witches, ignoring Hermione's question and simply grabbing her hand and shoving it into their faces.
This was the first time you yourself had seen the ring, and for a split-second there you were afraid it would look like some grotesque concoction as you had transfigured it without even a thought, but you were quite surprised at what you saw.
It was silver. You always thought you'd be more partial to gold…and there were three diamonds on it…the one in the middle slightly larger than the other two. You stared at it for a second, startled at your subconscious creation.
Weren't you Mr. Creative?
"Wow…it must have cost a fortune!" one of the vapid witches said, her voice filled with awe.
But you weren't really paying attention because you just realized that you were holding Hermione's hand in yours, and that the hairs on your arms were standing up.
"Yeah, well, she's worth it," you replied, your voice shaking a bit.
The sensation elicited by holding her hand in yours was strange, but only because you had never reacted to her like this. All right, excluding that brief moment in the restaurant when you had had a little bit too much French wine…and when you caught her in her knickers, but any bloke would react like that…you had never felt that…what was it? That spark. That feeling of mutual attraction. Hermione had been your friend all those years and you had never felt that feeling…you couldn't quite put your hand on it…
But what was most startling was the sudden question that sprang into your head.
Why?
Why hadn't you ever felt that…thing with her before? You had been friends for so long… you had been through so much together…too much. It was only natural that you should one day wake up and feel different about her. After all, she was so very important to you…
So why hadn't you ever felt like that?
And why now?
After all this time, you just happened to start feeling like this now? After everything that happened…
All you really wanted to do was sit around and brood about these things, but you were interrupted by the throngs of curious people that began crowding around trying to catch a glimpse of the ring. You heard a few whistles, a few curses (of the non-magic kind), and you could feel the heat radiating off of her at the close scrutiny and attention…
Oh wow you had a dirty mind.
"If you don't mind," you told the gathering crowd of onlookers with an alien haughtiness. "I really would like to enjoy the rest of the night with my fiancée." You gave the horrid looking group of witches what you hoped was an evil look before pulling Hermione away.
"What on earth was all that about?" she asked upon finally reaching your table.
"Well, I couldn't just let them talk to you like that!" you replied. Honestly, she could be daft when she wanted to be.
And of course, you are a sodding genius yourself…
"What?" Hermione snapped. "You think I'll get upset just because they think…they think…"
"That you aren't good enough for him?" Luna supplied amicably.
Neville looked apologetic, and you nodded at him. It wasn't really his fault that Luna was…well, Luna…
"Just because you don't get upset doesn't mean that I don't get upset!" you said, going back to the conversation. "I hated the way they were talking to you, those stupid girls who think that big tits make them Merlin's gift to wizardkind…"
"That blonde one didn't have big tits," Ron added in with a hiccup. He patted Romilda, who beamed at him adoringly.
"Oh, it doesn't matter!" Hermione yelled in exasperation. "I'm going home now. This whole thing was ridiculous from the start…"
"Oh no, you're not going anywhere!" you bellowed. "We are going to sit here and look happily engaged even if it kills you! I shan't give those lousy witches the chance to gloat!"
"That's the spirit, mate!" Ron said, aiming to slap you on the back, but smacking the chair instead. "More drinks for us!"
You couldn't help but grin. "Please Hermione. Stay. Have a few drinks. Then we can go home, and then tomorrow we can have a laugh at the Daily Prophet. Please?" You gave her your best puppy-dog eyed look. After all, it had helped you in the past.
You saw what you hoped was a smile creep at the edges of her lips, and thankfully it turned into a full-fledged grin. "Oh fine. I'll stay. But if they start asking me for invitations, that's it. I'm out."
*~*~*~*~*
You were conscious of the fact that you were naked before you opened your eyes. You were naked, and uncovered, and the pillow under your head didn't smell like your pillow. Your pillow smells like a mixture of coconut and cocoa bean; this pillow smelt like broom polish…
Your eyes popped opened automatically, which usually never happens with you.
Everyone, even your best friends, believe you to be a morning person, the type of person that wakes up early--happily--and without all the moaning and groaning that usually accompanies those night owls. But you were indeed of the night owl sort, so this sudden eye-popping wake up was most unlike you. It almost felt like some instinctive response to an imminent danger, so you woke up quite panicked and ready to slaughter the person that had you naked and in their bed…
So it was quite a shock when you saw Harry standing there, his sheet wrapped around him, looking like he had just committed the gravest sin in the world.
A sin that he quite enjoyed committing.
And judging by the soreness between your thighs, you had enjoyed committing this sin as well.
"Merlin's thumbs!" you squeaked, reaching over to grab the sheet from Harry. But that didn't help matters, as that left him completely starkers, and you couldn't help but blush as the dawning realization of everything that happened the night before took shape in your brain.
Wow. He really was naked, wasn't he?
*~*~*~*~*
"I refuse to drink whatever that is," you told Harry as he pushed that green bottle Tom had given Ron in your general direction. "It looks like something sinister Snape would have made us brew and try out on ourselves."
Harry hiccupped, that lazy, drunken smile already back on his face. "Well, you are missing out on something…super. I promise you Her-Hermyknee. It's great stuff!" And he took another hearty swig as if to prove it to you.
So far the night had been a total disaster. Although, that bit where Harry had conjured up the ring from out of nowhere…that had been quite heroic of him, even though you were loath to admit it. The fact that girls of that caliber could still intimidate you like they did was something that you tried to keep well hidden…even if you really weren't fooling anyone.
You looked down at the bejeweled thing he had valiantly placed on your finger.
The stunt with the ring had been sweet of him, hadn't it?
"He's telling the truth, Hermione," came a shout from Neville. Neville? When had Neville learned to drink?
"Oh, don't look so surprised," you heard Luna's voice from beside Neville. "He does this quite often."
The four of you were the only ones sitting at the table; Ron and Romilda were at the table next to yours, leading a rowdy crowd of drunken warlocks in some very lewd pub tunes.
"You know, with that brilliantly colorful imagination, I'm surprised Ronald never ventured into the wonderful realm of writing," Luna said, sighing wistfully.
You and Harry exchanged looks.
"What self-respecting newspaper would hire that knut?" Neville asked irritably.
"The Quibbler would happily welcome his brilliant mind."
"But enough of my songs!" interrupted Ron's loud voice over the dazzled whistles and howls of his fan club. He turned his head to look in your general direction, and something about the ominous gleam in his eye made your heart beat faster. "Why don't we share a toast to the couple of the night? My best friends: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!"
You felt the flames in your cheeks burn loudly in your ears; more loudly than the rowdy applause that forced you and Harry to stand up and accept the toast. Harry grabbed your arm, and turned to look at the venomous group of witches with a smirk.
He winked at you out of the corner of his eye. You thought your face would explode with the heat.
"But before we continue on with this toast," Ron bellowed drunkenly. "I say the happy couple should indulge us with some good, old-fashioned snogging. What do you say ladies and gentleman? Should they snog for us?"
And much to your embarrassment, the Leaky Cauldron broke out into a unanimously enthusiastic chant: "Snog! Snog! Snog! Snog!"
Everyone looked ecstatic! Feet were stomping the floor, glasses were striking the wooden tables. Ron looked smug, like he was successfully getting revenge for some random slight that you had committed against him years ago, and that you had no clue about whatsoever.
Ohh…the second you left the pub he was going to DIE!
"You can't get out of it, you two!" Romilda yelled encouragingly. "Everyone wants you to!"
Both of them were going to die. They really were made for each other, when you thought about it: the idiot drunk and his gorgeous, unscrupulous groupie…
"Snog! Snog! Snog!"
And it was while thinking up very innovative methods of execution that you felt yourself being turned around, and snogged like there was no tomorrow.
And that's when the gates of hell burst open.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"You…you SNOGGED ME!" she cried, grabbing the sheets around her as if terrified you would rip them off of her at any second (Which you were silently contemplating…).
"Hermione, we had SEX! And all you can do is stand there and yell at me for SNOGGING you?"
She was biting on her lower lip, and you suddenly got a flash of yourself biting on that very same lip, and hearing a moan escape her lips.
You decided to steal the sheet back from her.
"Hey! What did you do that for?"
"It's my sheet, Hermione!"
She jumped out of bed and began scurrying around the room trying to find her clothes; she wasn't having any luck. If you remembered correctly, most of her clothes were in the living room…
She shoved on one of your shirts instead.
"I cannot believe this is happening," she murmured, still picking through the bunches of laundry strewn about the room. "I cannot believe-what were we-oh my!"
She stopped abruptly, and looked at you with desperate eyes. You really didn't know what to do about the situation…it wasn't like this sort of thing happened everyday.
Although, it wouldn't be completely horrible if it did.
*~*~*~*~*
You kissed her. You kissed her. In front of everyone. As if you did such a thing all the time. Of course, you had only done it because you were sort of drunk, and willing to help Ron and his quest for free liquor...
Right?
And apparently, the kiss had been soo convincing, Tom was now giving everyone in the pub bottles of that dodgy-looking green liquid. Ron looked like he was in heaven.
You had only kissed her for Ron, just for Ron…
You had only stayed in the pub for her--just for her. Just so that she didn't have to be humiliated by those stupid hags…
Nothing of what you did that night had been for you. You were still Harry Potter. Pure, gallant, noble, unselfish Harry Potter.
Right?
"Umm...Harry? Is there any more of that green stuff?" asked a breathless Hermione as she plopped herself down heavily onto the seat next to yours.
"Err…you want some?" you asked her, fully conscience of the fact that even under normal circumstances, mixing Hermione and alcohol was an entirely horrendous idea.
But under these circumstances, in which you couldn't keep from thinking about Hermione in her knickers for more than half a second, the idea of mixing Hermione and alcohol was even more dreadful…
Especially when you were under its infernal influence yourself.
"Yes, I'm sure I want some!" she said irritably, snatching the bottle away from you and drinking straight out of it.
You were suddenly very afraid. Because even in your semi-drunken state, you were quite aware of the fact that nothing you had did tonight was anywhere near chivalrous. It had all been downright selfish, down to the last, incredible snog.
You self-serving prat…
"Hermione, could you stop chugging that stuff as if your life depended on it!" you commanded, trying to tug the green bottle away from her.
"No!" she yelled, tugging it back. "Let me have it!"
You tried in vain to take it back from her, and when you finally did, you realized that it was quite empty. Before you could stop her, she was on her way to Tom, asking him for another one. And when she returned with it, you wanted nothing more than to break the damned bottle over Ron's head.
"Hermione. Please. Give me the bottle."
"No!" she exclaimed, and you suddenly realized that this bickering over the bottle would sound quite childish to whoever was unlucky enough to overhear you. But you didn't care at all.
You were drunk.
"Harry, just let her keep the bottle."
You turned, and caught Luna looking right at you with very penetrating eyes.
"Let her drink it," she said in her characteristic blunt voice, with those unblinking eyes.
You nodded because somewhere along the course of your friendship, Luna was the one person that tended to say things you couldn't really argue against. Even if you wanted too. She could say the oddest things, like "It is raining due to the tears of the Riggly-Scoutfly, a very rare bird whose tears feed the heavens…"
And you wouldn't be able to argue against her. Nobody could argue against her. It was quite baffling…
So it was because of her that you let Hermione have her way with that green bottle. And it was Luna that handed you a green bottle of your very own. You would have thought it would be Ron or Romilda that would be encouraging everyone into drunken debauchery, but they were both sitting in a secret corner of the pub sucking face like two sixteen-year-olds.
Taking one look at your very drunk best friend, you decided that if you couldn't keep the devil as your enemy, you might as well make him your ally. Knowing that it was perhaps the worst possible decision that you could ever make, you grabbed the bottle Luna had so generously offered you, and drank.
And drank, and drank, and drank…
*~*~*~*~*
"This is all your fault!" she snapped as she waltzed around the living room, randomly picking up items of discarded clothing. You thought that this scene would look quite funny to an outsider, as you were following her around wearing nothing but your sheet.
"My fault? I tried to keep the bottle away from you!" you rejoined, trying to feel irritated by the accusations, but finding it hard to feel so. You were quite in a good mood.
"You snogged me!" she bellowed, throwing her bra at you for emphasis.
"I felt pressured!" you replied, knowing full well that that wasn't the only reason you snogged her… "Besides, me snogging you has nothing to do with you getting drunk all of a sudden!"
"Oh yes it does!" she shrieked, but she colored significantly as she did so.
Your interest was piqued. "Really. How so?"
"I don't know," she said, avoiding your eyes.
*~*~*~*~*
You were fully aware of the consequences of what you were doing.
Fully aware.
Getting drunk was the only way you'd manage to find the courage to do what you were thinking about doing. Now, you were only thinking about it. You hadn't quite made up your mind at that point, but that snog had really propelled you to the point where you were quite sure…
Because it was all around the most satisfying thing you had ever experienced. Sure, it was all for show--it was all for Ron--but it had been amazing. You felt alive to the tips of your toes, with his hands in your hair and your hands on his chest, and the taste of his lips and the feel of his body pressed up against you…
It brought to mind a glaringly exquisite image of him coming out of the shower.
You plopped yourself onto your chair rather ungraciously when it was all over. You couldn't very well feel your knees, so gracefully sitting down was completely out of the question.
At first he tried to keep you from drinking, which was quite strange as he never did anything of the sort before, but with a bit of prodding from Luna he gave it up almost at once. Sometimes you envied Luna the way she had of dealing with Harry and Ron; they never went against anything she said.
The more you drank, the more you felt your inhibitions fly away, which is exactly what you wanted. Then he decided to join in, and you marveled at the way he seemed to lose his reserve as well.
In a fit of drunken giggles, you both decided to continue the "engaged" charade. You started petting each other; it began with your hand on his lap, and his arm around yours. You soon graduated to your head on his shoulder, and his lips whispering in your ear…
Everything became a big inebriated blur then: sloppy touches and caresses full of heat.
Tom doled out more liquor, enthralled with the idea of Harry Potter making a spectacle of himself in his bar…Ron laughed knowingly…
Everyone around you thought the two of you to be the loveliest couple ever; so in love, so destined for each other…
You were very aware of what you were doing.
Very aware.
*~*~*~*~*
He sighed, almost painfully so. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened. We both had a bit too much to drink…"
"Right," you agreed, chomping on your lower lip nervously. You had had too much to drink. Too much drink. You didn't know what you were doing, not really…
"This was just…Hermione, this was all just a big mis-"
"An accident. This was just an accident," you supplied for him because no, it wasn't a mistake. Never a mistake…
"Right. It was…an accident. And we're both adults, this could have happened to anyone…"
You could see it in his eyes that he didn't believe what he was saying. And you wondered whether he could see the same thing in yours.
***
A/N: Yeah, Yeah, I'm evil. Cliffhangers SUCK, what did I do this for, what was the point of this chapter, I should die an evil evil death…