Title: Liquor before beer|
Rating: PG13 so far
Disclaimer: I own nothing, oh woe is me!
AN: Well, this is my first attempt at posting any fanfic, so work with me people, please?
Summary: Hermione has an endearingly inebriated side.
"Oh, god. Who let her at the firewhiskey again?"
Harry was staring bemusedly at his best friend, who was currently bouncing back and forth from foot to foot, excitedly chattering poor Neville's ear off.
"Did she get another glass then?"
"Yeah." Both Ron and Harry sighed forlornly.
"Alright! Heads up everyone!" Harry called out, effectively calling a halt to all activities. Well, all except one.
"And then I deduced that if I just added a bit more boomslang the potion would completely reverse the original intent, before I started alterations. I bet Snape never thought of it, old stick in the mud. Yeah, but he's too much of the Death Eater to have anything to do with mud, so I bet he's a stick in the . . . in the . . . pureblood. Yeah, he's a stick in the pureblood. Wait, how would he do that, the pureblood would either have to be a solid pureblood . . . Harry! I've found a good use for Lucius Malfoy! . . . or there would have to be a lot of blood, and pretty dried out to get all sticky and solid enough that we could stick Snape in there. Wait, where was I sticking Snape? Oh, yeah . . . " and still she continued on, while Neville's eyes began to glaze over.
"As you can tell, Hermione's been at the firewhiskey again." Multiple groans went up. "Keepers, let's start our shifts."
With a rabid look in his eye, Neville, nodding to Hermione's incessant chatter, began to drag her to Harry.
" . . . and then McGonagall redid her wand movements, and I got it . . . "
" . . . and with just a flick as so . . . "
"Oh, Harry! I wanted to tell you something just a few minutes ago, but I can't seem to recall what it was. Something to do with Death Eaters, and pureblood, but I don't know what, but did I tell you about Herbology today? Where's Neville at, I wanted to ask him about those fungi we were using because I bet if we crushed 'em to pulp and distilled them, crushed is a good word isn't it? It just feels good coming off the tongue, crushed! But if we distilled them . . . "
Harry began to absentmindedly nod to her, occasionally making the affirmative or questioning grunt that every male perfected before his twenties. Thinking back to the beginning of their friendship, Harry never would've guess at Hermione's future. He always had figured her for too straightlaced to enjoy the ever boisterous Gryffindor house parties. Little did anyone know though, that Hermione had a very deep appreciation for the relative effects of a "night off" and the boon that a little freedom could bring. Nobody was prepared, because when Hermione let her hair down, she did it in true Gryffindor fashion. The first time they saw her, standing on a chair singing off key pub songs with Seamus, both Harry and Ron were floored.
" . . . and then I saw Pavarti making the most disgusting face at Colin, Colin of all people! I can't imagine what . . . well, I can imagine, as I have a very good imagination, or so my second grade teacher always told me, and I really liked her because she would always let me stay up and read during recess or naptime, and I think that Pavarti wanted to take Colin to a nap time, but I surely wouldn't want to imagine beyond just the knowing, 'cuz that's a little too much, even for me . . . "
What no one knew though, was that Hermione would be an endless fount of speech when she began to drink. It was amazing the way the girl could talk, uninterrupted, without pause for breath, for hours. There were bets taken one night, on how long it would take her to finally realize she needed to breathe.
" 47 minutes and 22 seconds, " Harry murmured to himself, still lost in his own thoughts.
And so the Gryffindors realized that they needed watchers for her, and shifts of said watchers, so that no one person were to be overwhelmed by her effusive sharing. And as the years wore on, a pattern even emerged, that as she drank more, she would speak so fast that some of her words would begin to run together, although thankfully she hadn't imbibed that much quite yet.
"Harry! Times up!" Ron came up on Hermione's other side and reached around, tapping her on the opposite shoulder.
"Wha? . . . well, I was telling Harry about those poor rabbits that I found, I so didn't know that . . . " and Hermione turned in a circle for a few rotations, talking all the while and trying to find the one who poked her.
"Run man, while you can!" At Ron's prompting Harry took off for greener pastures. He may love Hermione like a sister, but you couldn't babysit all night.
"Hey, Mione! It was me! Now tell me what your plans for Lucius Malfoy were again?" This was probably Ron's favorite subject with a drunk Hermione, her plans for torture. Being under the curse of the brew, she was overly effluent in both her descriptions and ideas, making even some of the hardiest souls shudder in worry.
"Oh, that slimy bastard! You know I could bring back the roasting spit just for that piece of "pureblood" trash. I'd spear him through and prop him on two braces, and enjoy every revolution of the roast. I'd even make s'mores over his burning ass, although they might taste funky, so I'd just feed them too him, so that he could have food cooked by his own burning body, and then, you know those prongs you spear corn on the cob with . . . "
"Yeah?" Ron nodded eagerly.
"I bet they'd be a great tool for peeling someone's fingernails off . . . oh don't wince you little baby, you know they'd do just as bad or maybe worse, but still, i'd probably take some enjoyment from . . . " Reaching out, Hermione grabbed another bottle of firewhiskey from Dean Thomas, who seemed to be a never ending fount of liquor. Ron couldn't help but be grateful that Hermione was a believer of the old adage: "Liquor before beer, you're in the clear." Ron didn't know what it really meant, but he did know that it just demonstrated his Mione's utter brilliance, even when drunk.
"Mione, how'd you ever develope a tolerance for firewhiskey?"
"Oh, my parents believed in me knowing the truth behind vices, and so they gave me good solid education during the summer between fourth and fifth years, because they knew I'd never give in to drugs or sloth or lust or greed or gluttony, but they did know how available liquor is and so, once a week we would sit down to dinner and I would get to have a single glass of wine. Then in the summer between fifth and sixth years I discovered that some of my friends from home liked beer, and so on the random summer night, after hanging out, we'd occasionally have a beer, but I don't really like beer, it's too bitter for me so I tried these really cool wine coolers and spritzer drinks and then between sixth and seventh year, which is this year by the way . . . "
" Yes MIone' I know, but we've already taken our tests, everything is done, which is why we're partying remember?"
"Yeah! I'm not a nitwit you prat! Oh, sorry Won-Won, I'm just so hyped up and anyway between last year and this year I got to go to some clubs with my friends and there I discovered the joys of hard liquor. Oh yeah we have firewhiskey here, but there they have whiskey and vodka and rum and schnapps and tequila . . . "
And Ron just let her ramble, as was her wont to do. Hermione had a secret love of lists, that she tried to hide but wasn't so successful at.
"Hey big bro, your time is up!" Ginny slapped Ron on the back, handed him a new drink and pushed him on his way. Without missing a beat Hermione swung to keep talking with Ginny.
Hermione was having the time of her life. She only let herself do this every so often, because of course over imbibing was horridly bad, but the occasional night of debauchery was a wonderful way to wind down. Ginny had gestured Dean over and of course Dean was a wonderful guy, but Hermione noticed he kept giving not-so-sly looks to Ginny and Ginny was apparently not too adverse to them. Hermione may be over enjoying herself a bit, but she wasn't dumb. As long as Ron didn't go ballistic she didn't care. Wanting to give the two some time alone, Hermione looked around. Of course she didn't notice that she was talking the whole time.
" . . . and there's Lavender and I told her that that shirt would be too warm but did she listen to me? No, of course you don't listen to the smart one, why would you do that? Instead lets wear a shirt that we'll sweat in, but as long as my breasts look good who cares . . . "
" Mione, I just can't talk breasts with you, no matter how good your's are." Dean received a pinch from Ginny for this observation.
"Hey, If we're gonna keep this up, no noticing other breasts."
" . . . and yeah, I guess my breasts are okay but there's Seamus and I want to talk with him, I forgot that concoction that I was gonna try at home, because if an Irishman doesn't know what to drink then who does and so I'm gonna go over . . . "
"Hermione, let me walk you over there . . . "
" . . . nonsense, I'll be just fine, you can watch me to make sure that I don't stray and then I can corner Seamus . . . " and off she wandered.
Both Ginny and Dean watched with bated breath, but . . . success! She made it just fine, and both she and Seamus looked quite happy together, discussing the best mix for a proper drink.
Harry peeked his head up above the crowd of Gryffindors and threw a quick glance around the room. Where . . . ?
"Hold it! Where's Hermione?!"
"Alright everyone, look about. Is she anywhere in here? Ginny go check the girl's rooms, just to be safe."
After a round of negatives Harry and Ron waited anxiously for Ginny's return.
"Nothing! Shite Harry, she wandered off!"
"Alright, no need to panic, someone floo the Hufflepuffs, someone else floo the Ravenclaws. Maybe she just needed some new conversation." Ever the leader and Hero, Harry started to delegate. Everyone already knew their roles, this wasn't the first escape. Ron began to divide up some search parties while everyone tried to think of the last place she was.
"Wait! Seamus is missing too!" a voice cried out from the back stairs.
A moan of despair came from the crowd. Now it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. Those two were no good on the loose.
"All right, teams one and two, depart. You know the drill, teams three and four will leave in five more minutes, you all have your sectors. Team five, have your wands ready if she comes back, just throw an Arithmancy problem on the wall and send out the recall. Okay? Break!" And so the Gryffindors scattered.
"Too Ra Roo Ra Loo Ral!" The off key singing could be heard floating in the halls and through the stairwells. Harry and Ron had retrieved Harry's invisibility cloak and were already on their way down towards Slytherin, their biggest worry.
And what to their wandering eyes should appear, but a drunk Irishman, a Gryffindor sock.
"Seamus! My gods Seamus, what did she do to you?"
"Thash, my genshelmen, ish the woman im gonna marrysh! She can hold sher drink likes any shrue woman of sthe blood."
"Ron, let's tuck him in this alcove and keep going. He can take care of himself, at least until we find Hermione."
"Kay mate. Heave ho!" The two boys drug their friend to the nearest alcove and deposited him in a somewhat comfortable heap.
"Shay, she wandersh down thasha way" and with a final great effort Seamus pointed down the stairs to Slytherin.
To be continued . . . tomorrow!
Thanks for bearing with me, I shall finish up tomorrow.