(no subject)
Title: The Morning After
Author: grea
Disclaimer: This is getting a little redundant... Not mine.
Pairing: Hermione/Ron, [Fleur/Bill]
Rating: PG, Hermione's hung-over, so maybe PG-13?
Summary: Fleur's gone. Ron is observant.
Genre: General, a little Romance
Author's Notes: This is the third and final chapter of the Intoxicated series.
It took Hermione a few extra seconds to realize there was someone pounding on the door and the pounding was, in fact, not just not only in her head. She pulled her robe off the chair next to her cot and walked carefully towards the door. Feeling her way, she opened and closed her eyes quickly. She tried to appear more awake, but it obviously wasn’t working.
“Merlin, Hermione. What happened to you?” Ron Weasley, Gryffindor Quidditch keeper, Hogwarts prefect, best friend of Harry Potter, tactless moron.
“Sleep, Ronald. You woke me up.” Hermione pulled her robe around her a little tighter and retied it. “Is there something you wanted or do you just like giving thunderous wake-up calls to unsuspecting victims at the crack of dawn?”
“Thunderous wake-up calls.” Ron grinned. “Except that it’s not ‘the crack of dawn’.” Hermione turned to look at the clock on Ginny’s night table. 1 in the afternoon? Then she realized, Ginny wasn’t in bed anymore, she must have already gone down stairs. Hermione had slept through breakfast and, unless she did something quickly, lunch as well.
“Ok, I’ll be down in a minute.” She rubbed her eyes and turned to close the door. Ron’s hand pushed it back open.
“Where were you last night anyways?”
“At the reception, honestly.”
“No, I mean, I saw you dance with Harry at the beginning and then you were sitting at that table, but after that I couldn’t find you.”
“You were looking for me?” Hermione stared at him as the sleepy haze lifted and she became better used to ignoring her headache.
“Well yea.” A pause followed and Ron looked slightly shocked by his own answer. Hermione could see his ears turn pink and decided to file this mental image away and deal with it later, after some tea.
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, I guess. But where were you?” Ron’s ears had returned to their normal color. Where had she been? Hermione walked over to her cot and sat down heavily. She remembered dancing with Harry, trying to convince him to at least talk to Ginny before… well, before they left. Then she’d gotten frustrated and had sat down with and gotten a hold of a glass of champagne. She could now drink legally of course, but it wasn’t until last night that she’d had an occasion or the desire to.
Oh that’s right. Then she’d proceeded to get drunk. That completely explained the obnoxious roaring between her ears. But what came after that?
Hermione felt the blood leave her face. She couldn’t even remember. This is not a good sign. If Ron hadn’t seen her at the party, maybe she’d left. She sat up straight and began a subtle search for any new tattoos or piercings.
“Um, Hermione? Are you ok?” Ron’s expression was a familiar mix of amusement and confusion.
“Yes, I’m perfectly fine.” She stood up quickly and stiffly reached for the door again. “I just need to change and get some food. I’m alright, really.”
“Well that’s got me convinced.” Ron pushed the door open even further and walked into the room. Hermione groaned inwardly, of all times for Ron to be observant. “So, where were you at the reception?”
Hermione turned around and walked towards her trunk. She still couldn’t remember what had happened after she’d started drinking. But she couldn’t tell Ron that, honestly. She’d never hear the end of it. “I was talking to Fleur.” Hermione stopped and straightened in surprise. Where had that come from? But the more she thought about it, the more she remembered. She had been talking to Fleur. But what about? And why did she suddenly want to go read a French cookbook?
“I thought you hated ‘Phlegm’.” Ron flopped down on Ginny’s bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t hate her.” Hermione spun around looking cross, but immediately regretted it. For stability, she sat down on the bed near Ron. Her memory flashed images of the horrible butterfly hallway and she began to recall bits of conversation. “I theenk you will make a good sister-in-law.” No, she didn’t hate Fleur. Like anything else she’d ever confronted, Hermione just needed time to understand. She’d already seen two sides of Fleur. Now she needed to see where they connected.
“Really?” Ron’s eyebrow was raised and if she’d had more energy, Hermione might have found it infuriating. Infuriatingly annoying, or infuriating because she wanted to blush, she wasn’t sure. “Per’aps he will learn on his own.” Hermione looked down at her manicure and smiled. Perhaps. But until then, they had work to do. She stood up slowly, but determinedly. She pulled a book of advanced Dark Curses and a foot-noted potions book, courtesy of the Half-Blood Prince, off of the desk.
“Come on, Ron. We have some reading to do before tomorrow.” Hermione turned back to him. He looked mystified and sad for a moment before he rolled off the bed to join her.
“Ok, let’s go get Harry and then well get the strawberry pancakes and go to my room to work.” He walked out into the Hall towards the stairs.
“Pancakes?”
“Yea, strawberry’s your favorite, right? Well I got Mum to put a heating charm on some for you.” Ron didn’t turn around when he said it, but Hermione watched the tips of his ears go pink.
“Ok. Let’s get Harry.”
“You must come back with ze boys and you must win.”
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FEEDBACK!
There's a small flufflet/epilogue to come, but other than that...
The End
Author: grea
Disclaimer: This is getting a little redundant... Not mine.
Pairing: Hermione/Ron, [Fleur/Bill]
Rating: PG, Hermione's hung-over, so maybe PG-13?
Summary: Fleur's gone. Ron is observant.
Genre: General, a little Romance
Author's Notes: This is the third and final chapter of the Intoxicated series.
It took Hermione a few extra seconds to realize there was someone pounding on the door and the pounding was, in fact, not just not only in her head. She pulled her robe off the chair next to her cot and walked carefully towards the door. Feeling her way, she opened and closed her eyes quickly. She tried to appear more awake, but it obviously wasn’t working.
“Merlin, Hermione. What happened to you?” Ron Weasley, Gryffindor Quidditch keeper, Hogwarts prefect, best friend of Harry Potter, tactless moron.
“Sleep, Ronald. You woke me up.” Hermione pulled her robe around her a little tighter and retied it. “Is there something you wanted or do you just like giving thunderous wake-up calls to unsuspecting victims at the crack of dawn?”
“Thunderous wake-up calls.” Ron grinned. “Except that it’s not ‘the crack of dawn’.” Hermione turned to look at the clock on Ginny’s night table. 1 in the afternoon? Then she realized, Ginny wasn’t in bed anymore, she must have already gone down stairs. Hermione had slept through breakfast and, unless she did something quickly, lunch as well.
“Ok, I’ll be down in a minute.” She rubbed her eyes and turned to close the door. Ron’s hand pushed it back open.
“Where were you last night anyways?”
“At the reception, honestly.”
“No, I mean, I saw you dance with Harry at the beginning and then you were sitting at that table, but after that I couldn’t find you.”
“You were looking for me?” Hermione stared at him as the sleepy haze lifted and she became better used to ignoring her headache.
“Well yea.” A pause followed and Ron looked slightly shocked by his own answer. Hermione could see his ears turn pink and decided to file this mental image away and deal with it later, after some tea.
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, I guess. But where were you?” Ron’s ears had returned to their normal color. Where had she been? Hermione walked over to her cot and sat down heavily. She remembered dancing with Harry, trying to convince him to at least talk to Ginny before… well, before they left. Then she’d gotten frustrated and had sat down with and gotten a hold of a glass of champagne. She could now drink legally of course, but it wasn’t until last night that she’d had an occasion or the desire to.
Oh that’s right. Then she’d proceeded to get drunk. That completely explained the obnoxious roaring between her ears. But what came after that?
Hermione felt the blood leave her face. She couldn’t even remember. This is not a good sign. If Ron hadn’t seen her at the party, maybe she’d left. She sat up straight and began a subtle search for any new tattoos or piercings.
“Um, Hermione? Are you ok?” Ron’s expression was a familiar mix of amusement and confusion.
“Yes, I’m perfectly fine.” She stood up quickly and stiffly reached for the door again. “I just need to change and get some food. I’m alright, really.”
“Well that’s got me convinced.” Ron pushed the door open even further and walked into the room. Hermione groaned inwardly, of all times for Ron to be observant. “So, where were you at the reception?”
Hermione turned around and walked towards her trunk. She still couldn’t remember what had happened after she’d started drinking. But she couldn’t tell Ron that, honestly. She’d never hear the end of it. “I was talking to Fleur.” Hermione stopped and straightened in surprise. Where had that come from? But the more she thought about it, the more she remembered. She had been talking to Fleur. But what about? And why did she suddenly want to go read a French cookbook?
“I thought you hated ‘Phlegm’.” Ron flopped down on Ginny’s bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t hate her.” Hermione spun around looking cross, but immediately regretted it. For stability, she sat down on the bed near Ron. Her memory flashed images of the horrible butterfly hallway and she began to recall bits of conversation. “I theenk you will make a good sister-in-law.” No, she didn’t hate Fleur. Like anything else she’d ever confronted, Hermione just needed time to understand. She’d already seen two sides of Fleur. Now she needed to see where they connected.
“Really?” Ron’s eyebrow was raised and if she’d had more energy, Hermione might have found it infuriating. Infuriatingly annoying, or infuriating because she wanted to blush, she wasn’t sure. “Per’aps he will learn on his own.” Hermione looked down at her manicure and smiled. Perhaps. But until then, they had work to do. She stood up slowly, but determinedly. She pulled a book of advanced Dark Curses and a foot-noted potions book, courtesy of the Half-Blood Prince, off of the desk.
“Come on, Ron. We have some reading to do before tomorrow.” Hermione turned back to him. He looked mystified and sad for a moment before he rolled off the bed to join her.
“Ok, let’s go get Harry and then well get the strawberry pancakes and go to my room to work.” He walked out into the Hall towards the stairs.
“Pancakes?”
“Yea, strawberry’s your favorite, right? Well I got Mum to put a heating charm on some for you.” Ron didn’t turn around when he said it, but Hermione watched the tips of his ears go pink.
“Ok. Let’s get Harry.”
“You must come back with ze boys and you must win.”
-------------------------------------------------------
FEEDBACK!
There's a small flufflet/epilogue to come, but other than that...
The End