A\N-I'd just like to get it out that this is my first HP fic, and also, to all Snape\Harry lovers, I'd like to say that if you tell me that you prefer it in any way, shape, or form, goblins will come to your house, eat your food, and rape your dog. Good day.
Hermione's eyes fluttered and peaked open, only to rapidly shut again, in attempt to shield themselves from the blinding light.
Hm, she thought, did I leave the light on?
Adjusting to the brightness, she opened her eyes fully and stood up.
Never did she expect to see Harry Potter dressing in front of her.
"Harry, what--" She began, but froze when she realized something. An odd draft was tickling her legs. She lifted the covers and stared--she wore no clothes.
Her eyes flickered back to Harry, who had stopped to watch her actions. Was that amusement she saw in his eyes?
"Did we--?" Hermione asked.
"Yes." Harry said, going back to dressing. Hermione paused.
"Are you sure?" She asked.
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sure!" Harry glanced back at her, this time, his eyes screaming annoyance.
Hermione glanced back at her naked form, still covered by her comforter. Another glanced proved that, indeed, her prior night's wear were thrown aimlessly around the room. Her very first flat, to be specific. The one she had just bought the night before.
With Ron.
Dear lord.
"Does Ron know?" She squeaked, horror beginning to set in. The last bloody thing she remembered was going to town on rum cake!
"Unless Ron's more of a pervert than he let's on, I highly doubt he knows." Harry snapped, buttoning his shirt. Hermione stood up fully.
"Well, we can't tell him! I mean, you can't tell him. It was an accident, and--" She realized something. She was sitting up, but the blanket wasn't standing with her. That left her chest bare.
When she stopped talking, Harry looked up and stared for a moment.
"Yes, those are lovely, but it doesn't exactly help our situation, now does it? Get dressed!" He yelled, throwing a random sweater Hermione's way. She scowled.
"That was the general plan, O Boy Who Lived." She mumbled, covering herself with the blanket again and making her way to the only place where she could get dressed in private--the wardrobe shoved into the room's corner. Squeezing herself into the cramped wooden space, all was silent for a moment.
"You won't tell him, will you?" Hermione asked, shouting to be heard as she shuffled around the wardrobe for a shirt.
"Do you really think I want to tell my best friend I slept with his girlfriend?" Harry called back, along with the squeak of tying sneakers.
"How'd that happen, Harry?" Hermione was above a nervous whisper she rarely associated with herself. Harry snorted.
"Well, Hermione, when a man and a woman, occasionally a man and a man and, fingers crossed, a woman and a woman--"
"Harry, I'm serious!" Hermione struggled to pull her skirt up without smashing her head on the oak roof that shielded her. On the other end, she heard a sigh.
"I know, Hermione. I was drunk, you were drunk, we were both drunk, it was our mistake, we'll never speak of it again." With that and that alone, the scuffle of footsteps and the slam of a door was all that bid her adieu.
Hermione sighed, straightened her clothes, and opened the door to step out--
Only to fall flat on her face.
"What the fu--" She cursed, twisting on her stomach to see behind her.
Harry stood there, grinning, his foot angled right where her feet landed.
"Hello." He chirped.
"Harry! I thought you left!" His smile disappeared when she yelled this.
"Hermione--" He began, only to be cut off by a new voice.
"Left? When was he hear?" Ron asked.
Oh, boy.
A\N-No magic, no real plot, I was bored, so what. Review and you get cookies--YES, Danielle, I have no intention of shipping boxes of Oreos across the country, I just said that to bug you. G'day.