Hi! This is my first Harry Potter fic, so I hoped you enjoyed it! I always see Hermione as reserved and smart, so I thought of making her different in this fic for a change!
Don't get her Drunk
"I've got an activity tomorrow," Hermione said, looking rather frustrated as she continued to read the thick book which she had propped up against the goblet full of untouched pumpkin juice.
"What?" Harry and Ron asked in chorus.
"I have to turn pumpkin juice into apple juice with a spell," said Hermione. She suddenly stopped reading and drew out her wand.
"You're going to practice that here?" said Ron.
"It's not like I haven't tried doing it yet," Hermione replied. "I still haven't mastered it, though." She muttered something which was inarticulate to both Ron and Harry and tapped her goblet with the wand. The pumpkin juice glowed a brilliant shade of deep red before the lights slowly died out. Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice this.
Hermione peered into her goblet and frowned. "That can't be right. I'll try again." She repeated the process and the goblet's contents brightened up once more, this time with in a deep shade of gold. In a few seconds, the lights died out.
Hermione looked inside, appearing quite puzzled. "It looks like apple juice to me; perhaps I should taste it." Before Ron and Harry could protest that it was dangerous, Hermione was already taking a sip. They anxiously watched the expression of Hermione; she was looking more puzzled than ever.
"…Mead?" said Hermione in bewilderment. Harry and Ron were more perplexed than she was.
"Mead?" Ron said incredulously. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I think it is. Hold on, I'll take another taste." She sipped once more from her goblet. "It's rather sweet…and there's…there's this other taste….wait…" She took another sip. "Yes, there's some tinge of alcohol in it…but it's not that bad, not so bad…" She seemed as if she were talking to herself than stating this to Ron and Harry, who were watching her.
"How'd you do that?" Harry asked, looking astounded.
"I don't know what she did, but it sure is better than some apple juice," Ron said with a grin. "Hey, Hermione, can I have some?"
"Of course not!" Hermione said, almost automatically. She held her goblet away. "I made it, so I'm drinking it. It tastes rather lovely, if you must know!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron said. "It's mead! Girls aren't supposed to drink that!"
"Says who?" Hermione shot back. She was no longer taking just a sip; this time, she took two gulps.
"Says me!" Ron said confidently, "Only manly men are allowed to drink that. Little girls like you aren't supposed to drink alcohol."
"Excuse me?" Hermione said with a snort of derision after taking another big gulp from her mead. "Only men are allowed to alcohol? And you consider yourself, what, a man?"There was something different in the way she spoke, a thing which Harry had noticed.
"Uhm, Hermione," Harry intervened carefully, "Ron's right. You shouldn't drink that.
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said, grinning. "This won't do me any harm. And it's got an interesting taste, and I wouldn't really want to waste it." She took one, long drink, immediately draining her goblet, and she set it on the table. Something caught her eye, and unable to resist, she said, "You two wouldn't mind at all if I took both your goblets, right? Thanks!"
Hermione took both Harry and Ron's goblets before they could even say anything. She muttered the spell (which, to Ron's dismay) was still inarticulate to both Harry and Ron, and tapped both goblets, which glowed deep shades of gold—and this only meant that she got the spell right.
"Hermione, you mustn't drink that!" Harry insisted—but she wasn't listening. She was too busy draining his cup. She took one gulp. Again and again. After a while, she placed it on the table, a bit harder and noisier than should be, with a great "Ah!" of satisfaction.
"Hermione—"
"A moment, if you will," Hermione cut in curtly, looking slightly different as her face was tinged pink. She immediately swept Ron's cup to her lips, and before her two best friends could stop her, she began drinking again. She drained the goblet faster than she had done with the other two.
"Splendid!" Hermione cried elatedly, slamming the cup so hard, it made the others glance at her curiously. She took out her wand, tapped it on Neville's wand—to Harry and Ron's horror—turned the pumpkin juice into mead ("What're you doing?" cried Neville) then took the goblet for herself.
"Hey! That's mine!" said Neville.
"Thank you, Neville!" Hermione said, beaming, before drinking from the cup.
"Hermione!" Ron called in a hushed voice, now more serious. "Hermione, what's up with you? Stop that!"
"You're not stopping me," Hermione said, giving a strangely wicked smile. "Not even You-Know-Who can stop me!" Not quite aware that she had said this, she helped herself to another Gryffindor cup, turning it into mead first before snatching it away.
"Oi!" said George angrily. He looked up and stared at the now-flushed face of Hermione, and somehow lost the ability to speak.
"Thanks, Georgey." With a goofy smile, Hermione winked at him. George, Harry, Ron, and the rest who had witnessed this most stunning, unbelievable act, gaped at her.
Without even finishing the mead from George's cup, Hermione helped herself to two more goblets—Fred's and Parvati's.
Hermione was literally swaying when she had been standing, and by the 8th cup, her face was all shiny and flushed deep red. Now almost all the Gryffindors were staring at her unusual behavior in complete bewilderment and awe.
"Hermione!" Harry said, as Hermione was getting away from Gryffindor table, apparently about to find more pumpkin juices to turn into mead.
"You sayin' something?" Hermione said groggily, swiveling around (and almost stumbling) to face Harry.
"Hermione…you're…you're completely sloshed!"
Hermione laughed. She was gradually attracting attention now. Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, students calling their friends' attention and pointing at them, whispering to each other. "Haha! Good one, Harry!" And she gave him a sharp, painful slap on the shoulder which made Harry wince. Then she turned away to leave.
"Stop it!" Ron said, seizing her wrist.
"Hey!" Hermione said irritably. "Let go!"
"No!" said Ron firmly.
"I said let go! Let go, Ron!" She let out a funny noise—a whine—and stomped her feet like a child, pulling away from him. This made everyone stare—stunned— and Ron gaped at her for a few moments. He recovered from his surprise and said more firmly, "Stop it right now, Hermione! It's not right anymore!"
"Let go of me…!" Hermione cried, struggling furiously; more students had noticed the scene and watched. Ron felt the blood rush to his ears, but he refused to let go of her hand.
"No, Hermione!"
"Let go…!"
"No!"
"Let go…!" She struggled more violently. "Let go—I SAID LET GO OF ME!" she screeched, her voice so loud, it echoed throughout the Great Hall. Everything instantly became quiet.
Startled by this, Ron finally released his grip, his ears burning.
"Thank you~!" Hermione said sweetly, and now free from his grasp, she skipped to another table. Humming lightheartedly, she bent down, took yet another cup, turned it into mead, and drank from it.
"Ah!" she said with great satisfaction, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Now she looked more drunk, oblivious to everyone's stares.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Professor McGonagall as she walked over to Hermione, who still managed to keep standing despite her dangerous imbalance.
"Oh, hi, Professor," Hermione said, smiling sweetly. She tried to keep still, but could not. Her head was swaying, and she felt extremely lightheaded. Some were sniggering now, particularly the Slytherins.
"Miss Granger, what has happened here?" McGonagall asked, studying her.
Hermione blinked in confusion, not seeming to understand anything at all. "Sorry?"
"Did you get yourself drunk?" Professor McGonagall said in utter horror, the realization dawning upon her. Her eyes were horribly dilated with shock, mouth wide open to let out a gasp. "What's that in your goblet? Wine? Alcohol?—Miss Granger!"
Hermione stared at her, still looking confused, with a dreamy sort of look on her face, as her eyelids dropped halfway. She said nothing for a while, then spoke: "I can't quite concentrate, Professor." She was swaying, cup in hand. "There are three of you, you see, so I don't really know who to answer."
The whole room erupted with laughter.
Harry and Ron stared with their mouths hanging open, thunderstruck, as Hermione groggily walked past Professor McGonagall, who seemed as if she were stunned.
"Hermione, what have you done?" Harry said in horror as Hermione approached him, grinning broadly than ever, and looking stupid for the first time.
"Well, what could I do?" Hermione said, unaware that her voice was loud, almost hard to understand, but loud all the same, "I mean, really! How can she expect me to answer all at once if there are three of them, right?"
More gales of laughter followed; boys whooped, and girls shrieked with laughter. Colin excitedly started taking pictures with his camera. Harry did a facepalm, turning red.
"Hermione!" Ron said, voice laced with anger and anxiety. "That wasn't funny—!"
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, noticing him, "I'll be quite fine, you know." She approached him and bent toward him, still barely able to keep from swaying. "You're such a jerk, you know that? But I like you…" she giggled, and Ron gaped at her, "…your freckles…your hair…" She ran her fingers through his hair and he stiffened with alarm. (Meanwhile, everyone was going mad with laughter. But Hermione didn't seem to notice them, or care at the slightest bit; it was the exact opposite for Ron.) "You're almost like the colour of red, and I like red; it's the color of fire, you know, and we all know that without fire, we can't possibly survive! Isn't that right?" She turned to everyone and the whole crowd cheered.
"See there, Ron! Now everyone likes you!" Hermione said, grinning. Ron's face got redder, as red as his hair, and he looked like a ball of flame; he shrank back in silence.
"Now," Hermione straightened up and groggily surveyed the sea of laughing faces. She seemed to have spotted someone, because her eyes narrowed. Ignoring everyone's laughter, she walked unsteadily toward the Slytherin table, where they were laughing most derisively.
"Nice going, Granger!" Malfoy called with a sneer. "I never thought you'd be going for alcohol! Aiming to be the best drinker in history, I suppose?" And they continued laughing.
Hermione advanced to him.
"How many of me can you see now, Granger?" Malfoy went on as Hermione unsteadily headed for him. "Seven, I bet?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed harder than ever.
"Oh, shut up," Hermione snapped, snatching Pansy Parkinson's goblet ("Hey! Hands off, Granger!") and turning it into mead. She took one gulp and swayed more than ever as she tried to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.
Everyone quieted down and watched in anticipation. There was a sudden 'Hic!' and it was then obvious that Hermione began to have hiccups. Sniggers and giggles crept in quietly.
"Shouldn't we stop her?" said McGonagall, panic-stricken. "She's drunk!"
"Leave her be," Dumbledore said with an amused smile. His eyes twinkled merrily. "I want to see Miss Granger in a different light."
"But, Albus—"
"Now don't ruin the fun, Minerva," Dumbledore said calmly. "We'll stop her if it gets bad."
"But it already is!"
"Not when the children are laughing," Dumbledore pointed out. "Let them enjoy themselves. And besides," he continued, "this won't ever happen again. I promise you that."
Professor McGonagall grumbled to herself and watched silently, like everyone else.
"You know, I—hic!— don't like you," Hermione began to Malfoy. "Hic! You're disgusting, but I can't—hic!—I can't help but notice…" To everyone's utter amazement, she sat right next to Malfoy, locking eyes with him. "…you look quite handsome."
Everyone exploded with laughter, all except for Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, the rest of the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. Malfoy wasn't laughing either. He was so caught-off guard that he was speechless.
"Yeah, I know I—hic!—hated you for bullying Ron and Harry. Hic! It's annoying, but…" Hermione blinked, as though she were having difficulty with talking. Apparently, she was having a problem with seeing him, too. Her drunkenness was blurring her speech and vision. "…but—hic!—I won't deny that nice, cute, little face of yours…" She reached out, caressing his cheek, smiling and blinking goofily. Malfoy stiffened under her touch, still not finding his voice.
"Youre a very, very—hic!—very naughty boy, Malfoy," Hermione continued. She blearily tuttted him, shaking a finger in front of him, her face flushed deeply. "Hic! Now…" she leaned forward, and Malfoy could smell her sweet, hot, breath. "Now maybe this can stop you…" Malfoy froze when she kissed him on the cheek.
There was a hushed silence. For a while, no one could believe that Hermione Granger had kissed Draco Malfoy. The walls shook with the sudden eruption of cheers and laughter (Crabbe and Goyle were trying to hold back their own laughter, sniggering). Students pounded their tables, laughing their lungs out. Pansy and some other Slytherins and Gryffindors found it immensely shocking and gaped. "That'll—hic!—that'll hold you off for a while, wouldn't it?" And she winked at Malfoy, whose pale cheeks colored slightly, and then walked away, delighted (but still not understanding, as she was still too drunk) that the whole room was filled with whistling, cheers, cries and mad laughter.
Hermione was about to talk off another Slytherin, but was blocked by someone. She looked up and blinked.
"I believe that's enough, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said calmly. Everyone immediately turned silent at the sound of his voice.
"Oh, hi, Professor," Hermione said in a causal so unHermione-like way, that it caught everyone's attention and made them lean forward in anticipation. "I don't really—hic!—think I caused any trouble here, Professor… Everyone's quite—hic!—happy and so am I…"
"I do believe you're not at the right age to drink that," Dumbledore stated.
"Oh…this? Hic!" Hermione looked at the goblet she was holding. "Not really." She shrugged. After a few seconds, she groggily looked up and blinked. "Professor Dumbledore, I can't—hic!—I can't help but notice those candles high above us." Sniggers and giggles started again with this sudden change of topic.
"Oh?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I don't see anything wrong with them," he said, not looking up, but instead staring down fixedly at Hermione.
"Well—hic!—" said Hermione, "you see, I've been wondering—hic!—wondering…what spell's been holding them up constantly and—hic!—and I looked it up in the library and did—hic!—did some research," she reached for the wand inside her pocket, "and I've—hic!—I've found the counterspell for it."
"Really?" Dumbledore said, impressed. Others bore the same reaction as well, smiling lightly.
Hermione, noticing at once that everyone (except Dumbledore) hadn't the slightest idea what it was, grinned, and said, "Here: I'll show you!"
"Miss Granger, wait! DON'T—"
But it was too late, as Hermione drew out her wand and quickly cried out the spell…
…And after that, everyone in Hogwarts swore they'd never—NEVER—let Hermione Granger get drunk again.
So there we have it! Please review!
(To Scarred Hatred, Tainted Blood readers who are-er, still looking forward to the fic: I solemnly swear that I'm still working on the chapter! It's been, well, a month, but I swear, I SWEAR I'm going to finish my fic, just as I promised!
As of the moment, though, Harry Potter's stolen my heart, and Blood Plus is trying to get it back, and I'm caught in-between. Still 'suffering' J.K. Rowling's enchantment, I'm afraid. Please, oh PLEASE don't give up on me!)
To the rest who haven't the slightest idea what I'm talking about, please don't bother wondering; I suck-that's my explanation.
There we have it! Byebye!