Title: Hermione's Drunken Mistake
Author: Catkin026
Rating: MA (Sex/Language)
Note: This is an AU. It bears very little semblance to the books lovingly written by JK. Rowling, and will have very little mention of events that occur within any of the seven books, including the play 'Harry Potter And The Cursed Child'. I am taking these characters and throwing them around in my own sandbox.
If there is anything too noticeable, or anyone reading has a critique that will help the continuation of this story, then please a review. Any of those will be read and taken into consideration. Any Flames on the other hand will simply be used to melt the chocolate I love so much.
It should also be noted that this is a revision of the original chapter I had Posted up here. It will not automatically sync in with the other two chapters, so please be patient with me as I re-do the other two chapters. I wouldn't recommend reading on until I have made the changes, but I leave the Second and Third Chapters up so that it isn't completely dismantled.
And I apologise for the slight rambling as it's quite late and I have been trying to get this chapter up to a standard that I feel confident enough in to Post.
Catkin026
Buzzing again, the phone rattled against the top of the small table out in the living room. No actual real sound, but more than enough for Hermione, after a long solid groan, to limply lift her right free hand as if she had the energy to do anything more. Her senses being assaulted at some unknown point of time in the day did not bode well for the rest of it, but with the annoyance of the mobile fading away until the entire apartment grew silent again other than the puffs of sleepy breathing, Hermione allowed herself a grunt, and sank back into the mattress.
Or she would have, if her mind hadn't grabbed on the slow realization that her entire body was being assaulted with an uncomfortable press of heat, almost as if it was under a prickly blanket of fire, and with that little bit of knowledge, her head decided to throw up the opinion that obviously she had forgotten-
-Ugh, the curtains! The fucking curtains are open- Hermione muttered to herself, curling her head back underneath the covers, mumbling out loud in protest when she realised that if she wanted to relieve herself of the annoying streams of light, she'd have to actually move. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the possibility of drawing up enough strength to do so currently remained out of her reach, and so if Hermione chose to, she could remain stuck between the verges of sleep, and being awake. And maybe if she ignored it long enough, she might even be able to use the sunlight as a method to fall back into those sweet dreams she'd only been enjoying a few moments before, then it all could be bent to her will.
She certainly felt cosy enough, with it all wrapped around her despite all of the other annoyances it was giving her, but she still needed to shut up her own mind as it appeared to have seized upon its previous success of forcing her to pay attention to it. And now it wanted all of her focus to be on the uncovered window, and discovering the apparent reason for why she hadn't wrenched the curtain across the single window in her bedroom the night before.
-Any time now would be the perfect time to speak up with the answer you know- Hermione grumbled to her interfering brain, but as always, at this exact moment it didn't know. And since it didn't, it threw all of its own little sparking energy into poking and prodding with its' usual single-mindedness, and of course enraged the rest of her body in the process. Hermione's head roared into life, nearly proudly declaring of exactly how high it could screech in pain, and throw in the intensity of heavy metal drum beats directly behind her eyes as well.
-Fuck! Fucking perfect- Hermione hissed, scrunching up her nose as once again her mind couldn't leave it well enough alone, and became distracted with the thought that even if Hermione did close her blackout curtains, it wouldn't help, as obviously Hermione couldn't leave the question alone –Fucking great! Why the Hell is this so important to know bloody –now-!-
Hermione hissed as her hands curled into claws.
The rest of her body chiming in, starting in with its own rounds of complaining, did not help matters. The top of Hermione's spin creaked back into painful remembrance, shooting lightning flashes of sharp tremors through her shoulders causing her arms to spasm from –something- and-
Biting her bottom lip, Hermione grunted through this level of torture.
-Please not another headache- Hermione almost begged –Please! Please! Please!-
She could already feel it building, spreading from behind her eyes and at the curve where the back of her neck met her head. That old familiar tinge that had been lightly tap-dancing just underneath her skin all week, and if she now had to spend the entire weekend fighting off one of her headaches Hermione believed that the correct response to this was to swear loudly. And with the entire range of curses that Hermione would never admit she knew.
-No! No- Hermione forced herself to take a breath –Just focus. I am more than capable of fucking doing that. There's no point in going over everything that went wrong this week, so... Relax, take care of the stupid curtains and go back to sleep-
She'd hit her breaking point yesterday, but she should have erupted into a tirade against the entire world by Wednesday morning. Sheer optimism had got her still banging away through her job until Friday, or at least until two hours after lunch when the chances of her keeping her job had dwindled down to containing grains of sand in her hand. It had only been down to the sheer steel of her own mind that all she had done was storm out of the building several hours before her shift ended.
Yet now she'd need to re-define exactly what she termed as being pushed past her limit, as waking up with her entire body attempting to drive her to the near perfect ending of this entire week left Hermione wanting to do more than direct a few certain words at anything or anyone who might be the cause for all of this.
-Taking too much bloody interest in my fucking life- Hermione griped –So I'm going to get bloody boring-
She'd done her penance, Hell more than she deserved, and for the two days away from the toxic atmosphere of The Ministry, Hermione fully intended to make a new career of doing absolutely nothing. It would be the easiest plan for Hermione to enact, as all it involved was her over-stuffed, comfy chair in her living room, her television, food and drink. She might have to actually move for the latter two, but still...
-Or I can just order in- Hermione said to herself with the smallest of smiles.
Slightly furrowing her eyebrows, useless since even that small movement caused her another twinge of pain, Hermione kicked and clawed around her own head until she could finally organise it enough to be able to search for the answer of the last time she had ordered in. Harry and Ron had been involved, they usually were, and undoubtedly the three had played the usual game of arguing over who controlled what in regards to the food.
But in the end, undoubtedly Ron had been given free reign over the type of meal they would be ordering in, with Harry cutting in with exactly what restaurant would be sending their driver to the door, and Hermione decreeing what glorious and decadent desert the three would be enjoying. It would had to have been...
Two weeks ago? Or it could have been a week and a half perhaps? No, it had definitely occurred on a weekend so either last weekend or the one before.
-Hell, why can't I remember the last time I've seen them?- Hermione thought, almost cringing at the sheer implication if within the next couple of minutes it didn't occur to her. Yet attempting to grab hold of a single happy memory of being with Harry and Ron, and she felt as if she was grasping at straws. It was almost as if Hermione needed another reminder that her own precious time was spent wasted in The Ministry, when there should be times she put all of that Hell onto someone else's shoulders.
With a soft sigh, Hermione made a promise to herself. She needed to indulge, especially if something or someone was attempting to ruin her morning with another round of –fuck over Hermione-, and if that meant eating plenty of food that was bad for her, not to mention slumming it, then she bloody well would! It wasn't as if her body could strangle her muscles even more just because she had consumed her own body weight in take-out and chocolate after all. The only way to bloody well-
-Fuck! Wait! Wait wait wait a fucking second!- Hermione's thoughts tumbled over each other –Oh Hell no! No! I couldn't have-! But... But I must have! I must have... Oh God, what fucking extremely stupid thing have I done this time?-
And yet, it explained so much. For her body to left groaning under the strain of what felt like a car wreck, her mind ravaged by at least three jack hammers, it all had to be down to something... Something that was undoubtedly bloody idiotic and probably something Hermione deserved a bit.
Hermione gave a soft snort.
-Not bloody well being cooperative now, but it will come. It always fucking does, eventually-
Despite her own mind's gleefulness over how much Hermione had messed up her own life –again-, and it certainly would have enough juice against her to crow about it for days, or maybe even weeks, it eventually would. No matter what kind of abuse Hermione ever threw at herself, or what current state of her mind, the truth of the entire matter would unwind itself from the stuffiness within her own head and then the memories of the night before would pop back into consciousness to reveal...
-Drinking. The last time I woke up like this, it had involved drinking-
Hermione's lips slightly pressed together.
But alcohol never was solely to blame. It was always closely accompanied by staying up way too late, and her best friend needing to break the monotony of daily life. And as Hermione rarely was able to persuade Ginny to pursue other logical amendments to achieve the same gains but without the hangovers, such as going to a nice restaurant together, then...
It remained almost a pipe dream, even with the proof that the attachment of Harry and Ron didn't muck anything up. The two wizards could accompany them, and it never led Hermione to berating herself for not pushing forward a better argument of why the boys couldn't join them. Unlike the last time Harry and Ron had forced themselves into their company, managing to-
Scrunching her eyes shut even tighter, Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath.
No. No! All she could do, all she had left at her disposal at this moment, was to pray that there hadn't been a re-run of –that-. She hadn't been able to change anything after that night, despite her best efforts to help Harry and Ron realise why they were in the wrong, and so what she had to remind herself was that her priorities were suffering through this hangover. Not bloody worry if there had been another incident between herself, Harry and Ron, and if she would have to chase after either or both of them later.
-And if I do have to, I will make them suffer for it- she muttered to herself.
It stood to reason though, that she may be forced to if her mind decided to keep the secret of the night before as it closed into dinnertime. Hermione's patience, especially with herself, didn't give her mind that much leeway, and if Harry and Ron could fill in the blanks of what had not crept out from under the rocks of her memories yet, then she'd take their teasing.
-Doesn't mean I won't irritate them right back though-
Sighing softly, Hermione made an attempt to grab hold of that little glimmer of light that she wouldn't have to deal with Ginny's perkiness, only acquired due to drinking plenty of coffee and ingesting food, until much later. Only, it hardly could be counted as even that due to the fact that this gave Ginny plenty of time to conspire with the Harry and Ron, and for all three to discover the more amusing parts of the Night Out.
It never worked that way for Hermione. It wouldn't matter exactly how many Potions Hermione consumed, along with fast food or gulps of water, or even if she even fucking remembered what had happened. To Hermione, finding that same amount of fun with all of the drunken antics too much longer to manifest and until then, she really didn't appreciate being playfully poked by Ginny.
Hermione groaned softly, burrowing her head further into her pillow.
She really needed to stop being ensnared by the cosiness and great potential within the first stage of the Night Out, and realise that-
-'Mione, this is not some stupid meeting between you and those lazy assholes of The Ministry,' said Ginny, not even bothering to direct her words at Hermione as yet another clump of unworthy clothes were flung over the slightly younger girl's shoulder, adding it to the other rejects. By this point of interaction between the two, Hermione barely bothered to reply with a snort as all too soon Ginny would drag her into an actual conversation.
For the moment, Ginny was more than content to continue ranting to herself, hardly looking for any kind of real answer from Hermione, and the latter could enjoy the sweet thought that she just –might- be able to remain in her bed for the night. It wouldn't be plausible, as upon Ginny realising that she'd gone through all of the various outfits Hermione possessed, Ginny would interrupt herself, maybe even glance over the amount of clothes surrounding Ginny in a semi-circle before indulging in one more inner argument within Ginny's own mind and then Hermione would find herself under one of Ginny's patented glares.
And Ginny always displayed this strange reasoning the best in her thought process that if she couldn't find something she approved of among Hermione's clothing, then it must be all Hermione's fault.
-Maybe if I disappear under the covers she won't find me- Hermione's thoughts helpfully supplied, despite the full knowledge that in about ten minutes Ginny would run out of potential mix and matches to barter with Hermione over. –Damn. Can't disappear far enough by then-
Ginny's strength in projectile objects, not always done magically, would make sure of that, especially if Ginny returned to Hermione's closet in a new fury that the right choice must be in there instead.
'For fuck's sake, Mione,' continued on Ginny, 'I'm taking you bloody shopping. Again! And this time, we aren't stopping until you actually have proper clothes for our Night Outs.'
'You already did that,' replied Hermione, the little added phrase of –two months- ago- remained tightly behind pressed lips as that would just make everything worse. She would not give Ginny that ammo against her, especially since many of the clothes Ginny had picked and forced Hermione to buy had had mysterious accidents, or else been left somewhere.
Slumping even further into her nice, warm and comfy bed, and breathing in her latest choice for detergent (lilac and lily), Hermione's previous wish to remain in her apartment, in this specific part of her apartment grew to nearly an overwhelming urge. Her own mattress and sheets could provide her with the comfort she needed, and maybe even go as far as to set up her television on her dresser so she could immerse herself in stupid Friday night shows.
The only significant factor preventing this was Ginny.
-Hell- muttered Hermione to herself.
Ah, so apparently Ginny had caught more than Hermione had hoped and now Ginny's infamous half glare, half curious stare was directed at Hermione. Hermione must have been slightly too obvious over how annoyed she still was at the slightly younger witch, especially since so little time had passed. And Hermione could hold onto a grudge almost as long as Ginny.
-Damn-
'Then why can't I find any of the ones I bought for you? I've already searched all of the places you usually try to hide your actual decent clothes, and you've had so few times to actually wear them...' trailed off Ginny, her left hand twirling in the general direction of Hermione's chest of drawers, the first piece of furniture to face Ginny's whirlwind search and losing any kind of previous organization due to Ginny's destruction.
If Hermione hadn't already suffered through incidents similar to this multiple times before, she might actually be blushing over how half of the contents of her underwear drawer now hung off the knobs of the drawer, or along the edge, or now in one of the many crumpled messes scattered around Hermione's floor.
'They could be in the wash-'
'You haven't been on one of our Nights Out for ages,' Ginny countered, nose scrunching up.
'Or been involved in incidents during one of those Night Outs,' Hermione said, in the desperate hope that maybe continuing on would steamroll any further protests from Ginny over the more problematic issues of Hermione's point of view.
Ginny snorted.
'None of those incidents destroyed any of your clothes,' she said.
'The silk shirt and lace wrapped skirt was,' Hermione replied, fighting against the urge to briefly close her eyes because out of everything, showing such a sign of weakness gave Ginny more power than the usual seizing of anything Hermione said, and managing to run with those few words. Ginny never needed much, through a slip of the tongue or else the smallest hint of being physical uncomfortable.
'A small stain,' Ginny answered with the smallest roll of her eyes.
'The entire outfit was beyond repair,' retorted Hermione, earning herself a sniff from Ginny.
'And you're a witch,' said Ginny, turning with another one of Hermione's –necessary- silk shirts in her hands as her eyes darted back and forth between the top and Hermione to assess if the former was passable for a Night Out, 'so even if it was ruined, you can still repair it.'
'Beyond repair, Ginny,' said Hermione. 'I had to throw it away.'
Slightly late, Hermione's mind piped out of all the options Hermione had at her disposal, arguing with Ginny when there was still a slight chance, very small, that she might be able to coerce Ginny into remaining in her apartment, or Ginny's, was a bad idea.
-Bit fucking late- Hermione grumbled back at it.
'It only splashed your top,' the slightly younger girl said, giving the slightest shake of her head before dropping the shirt onto the floor. 'Your skirt on the other hand was perfectly fine. And, it would be perfect for tonight.'
Terming that wrap-around monstrosity as a skirt was taking very liberal liberties on the definition of such an item. It lay more in the precise vicinity of cloth shrink-wrap around Hermione's middle and legs that made it near damn impossible to walk, and considering what constituted as Summer in the United Kingdom remained in the category of rain and breaks among clouds...
'I ended up soaked, Gin,' said Hermione, glancing over at the toe-tapping girl to see yet another potential contender in Ginny's hands.
-Not in a bloody month of Sundays- Hermione thought at the current shirt.
'The beer-'
'Top and bottom,' Hermione cut in. 'I smelt like a bloody brewery, and nearly found myself arrested by the police after that incident with Ron and Harry, and the Muggle. The police thought that I was also intoxicated.'
'You didn't end up arrested, Mione,' said Ginny. 'The police had no reason to.'
Hermione snorted.
To a witch or wizard, especially with prior knowledge of what Hermione had accomplished in the past, Hermione stepping in between Harry, Ron and those Muggles served as nothing more than a possibility of the entire situation being calmed down. To the eyes of the law, on the other hand, no sane person would try and break up a fight considering how small she was, unless she had a few drinks in her.
'Did you really throw it out?' Ginny added.
'I had no other choice,' Hermione replied.
'Damn,' Ginny muttered, before sighing heavily. 'That's a real pity. You looked so good in that entire outfit. So bloody good... Fuck, have to remember where we bought it.'-
-Shit!- Hermione hissed –if Ginny tracked down anything close to that outfit I specifically ruined for last night- -
-Multiple flashes of colour pulsing around her, around the swaying body of Ginny, and the two only inches away from near misses and brushes of skin. Oh so many promises just for her within those wicked smiles, predatory looks wrapped up in the forms drifting in and out of the smoke billowing everywhere in the enclosed room. And if Hermione wished to be granted such delights, all she needed to do was...-
And yet she'd seriously thought about it, simply taking into account the surge of emotions rushing over her senses from that little blip of a memory. Alcohol would have helped Hermione along, pulling her along from the stage of Ginny dragging her onto the dance floor because Hermione's silly –no- wouldn't be allowed to get in the way, to eyeing the very nice looking guys under the haze of buzzing tipsiness under the protection of-
-A touch on her hip, but not one made by Ginny. Ginny's hands were all accounted for since she had her arms embracing Hermione tightly around her shoulders, so not her. But Ginny's eyes had alighted on the one responsible, just by a lazy stretch of her neck. And now within Ginny's gaze stood a man, firmly encroaching into the two witch's Personal Space with a hand outstretched to offer the chance to sway to the music with him, to be cocooned in the hold of the man, and see how it went.
Ginny's obvious stare drew an even cockier grin from the man, his eyes darting back and forth between the two, undoubtedly assessing the two before him, and liking what he saw.
-Chances of Ginny allowing herself to be a conquest borders on the likelihood of Ginny not getting into another argument with UmBitch-
Hermione snorted to herself, dipping her head into the crook of Ginny's neck.
'You are enjoying yourself,' murmured Ginny into Hermione's ear. 'Don't lie.'
'Oh yes,' Hermione said, giving Ginny's waist a slight squeeze in admonishment, 'this music only encourages me to stay here all night.'
Ginny gave Hermione's back a slight poke.
'You know full well that we won't be staying here all night,' she replied.
'If you are looking for somewhere else to go,' cut in the voice of the man, shifting his body to a broader stance so that he could focus on the two women, 'I can help you with that.'
'I promised you before,' continued on Ginny, giving Hermione's shoulder a slight squeeze. 'Two clubs at worse.'
'Should have held out for only one,' Hermione muttered back.
Ginny sniffed some twisted version of laughter.
'You know full well that you'd never only get one club on a Night Out,' Ginny said. 'And the music should change soon.'
Highly unlikely it would, and even if it did, it would hardly be for better music.
-But Ginny on the other hand- Hermione's mind slowly picked out –Ginny's really close, and her body is a perfect barricade against those awful beats-
If Hermione pressed up against Ginny's shoulder, and angled her head just right, she might be able to block her other ear with Ginny's cheek.
-Hmm, maybe this Night won't be that bad after all-
'If you ladies do want to go somewhere better,' inserted the man's voice again, an eyebrow raised as the right-side of his mouth twisted to reveal a dimple. 'I know somewhere really good.'-
But she hadn't, had she?
Hermione's mouth scrunched up.
No, the man could hardly have provided her with anything, and even just taking his choice of garnering their attention into consideration left him shot down without any second chance. It wouldn't have mattered how tipsy, or drunk, Hermione was, she wouldn't have wandered away from the content feeling within Ginny's arms just for him.
-But no bloody point in worrying about that anyway- Hermione muttered to herself, a murmur of pleasure slipping past her lips as she turned slightly –I'm in bed now, and here I will stay-
And Hermione had the accomplishment of crawling through her entire apartment to her bedroom as well. A complete and utter win, since her couch, for all of its brilliance in being a near perfect place to snuggle down into while watching television, could only offer a dismal Third Place to her Bed. Hell, her chair (her Second Favourite one), may not give her the space to stretch out, but if her bed wasn't a possibility than it remained a blissful cocoon for her.
Thankfully there had only been few and far between instances of when she hadn't even been able to scrape up enough strength to throw herself into either pieces of furniture in her living room. Waking up to find herself drooling into the carpet had never proven to be a pleasant experience, especially since it came with coughing up fluff and-
-Fucking ouch!- Hermione hissed, straining against the knee jerk reaction to curl her leg into the lessen the electric shock tightening the muscles in her calf –Not even bloody well trying to move it so what the fuck?-
Hermione's leg had been keeping quiet, but undoubtedly with so much attention being given to her own thoughts it had decided to scissor kick itself back into existence, and twinge. Slowly, and with great care, Hermione stretched out the leg, pushing her toes towards her footboard and-
-And there goes my fucking back again-
Adding yet another body part to that list of painful areas did not bode well, as while certain strains of muscles were regular customers to the after effects of a Night out, the current screams of protest fell more into the category of...
-Did I fall? No, no it couldn't be that. I made Ginny promise no more of those nonsense high heels-
It may have taken a little bit of badgering, but eventually Ginny had agreed that none of the shoes Ginny insisted Hermione wear, would ever make Hermione a ridiculous height. So taking that out of the equation, it left her with walking too much, a very high possibility because Ginny was nothing but disloyal to any parts of London, and lots of dancing. Ginny liked to encourage both, with no amount of Charms able to counter these effects.
Curling into a ball, Hermione pre-empted the heat burn of her feet in protest to last night by rubbing her arches, only for her mind to stutter at the sudden realization that her covers brushed up against skin. She didn't have a scratch of clothing on.
So, Hermione may have forgotten to be pre-emptive with her bedroom window, but she had remembered to undress herself before falling into bed. Undoubtedly, there would still be the downside of her clothes being littered all over the floor, but hopefully together. She might not care until maybe Sunday to actually pick them up, but if she still didn't have to bend too much even then, it would be a bloody bonus.
But, as she had told herself before, it didn't matter. For now, she'd keep on resting, use the combination of her pillow and sheets to block out the sun as much as possible, and eventually pull herself up into a half-sitting position in order to raid her bedside cabinet to find one of her Hangover Potions.
-Or just use my wand-
The possibility of depending on her wand certainly appealed to Hermione. It may not be a direct way to deal with her headache, but at least her wand could kick the sun's beams out of her bedroom by dropping the black-out curtains down a little later on, and maybe even be used to Accio the Hangover vial into her hands to combat her aches and pains.
-And most certainly something to deal with this bloody heartache. It's a fucking stinker-
There would still be the slight issue of figuring out where she had dropped her wand the night before, as it would hardly be anywhere close and handy. Hermione wouldn't be allowed that nicety, but none of this stopped Hermione from hoping that she wouldn't have to use too much physical exertions in order to find it.
Hermione could already feel the pull of her comfortable chair in the living room.
It would mean that she would have to take all the steps necessary to appease her body first, but if it meant that she could then relax properly and heft enough of a promise from her bloody self to not bug her any further, then Hermione would take it. Until then, she might not trust the offers pushed forward by her mind and body, though Hermione did have to admit that this suggestion of Wandless sounded extremely helpful.
Summoning did remain a Basic Spell, usually one of the first learned with the help of a wand, and the same when a witch/wizard decided to venture into Wandless magic. Hermione may have been nearly forced out of necessity to learn this skill, but considering the obvious crankiness of various parts of her, it might be the best and easiest option for her.
It wouldn't exhaust her more than she already was if she did use Wandless, and if she proved herself a liar then she could just take out a page from Ginny's book. Ginny had sworn blind for years that the only way to truly enjoy the morning after a Night Out was to remain in bed, and simply move the television into the bedroom.
-Great- Hermione muttered to herself with a sigh –I'm in fucking trouble. I'm contemplating not even leaving my bed-
She could hardly pretend that she was incapable for drawing enough strength o climb into her chair, just as Ginny's Partner always sarcastically insinuated Ginny was more than capable of, despite Ginny's declarations to the contrary. Hermione remained in the opinion that this was more in protest to Ginny's inclination of moving the television into her bedroom, as it then meant that he couldn't sleep in.
And he'd given Ginny a very pointed look, complete with a raised eyebrow last night after she-
-'If you –can- find it in your heart,' honeyed in his voice, leaning up against the frame of the door, with his arms crossed and even one foot hooked over the other in an almost careless fashion. Hermione may have actually believed it if she hadn't had previous knowledge of the bruise on his stomach, and exactly how much strain he was putting his body through just by the position he was in alone. But Hermione wouldn't be making the mistake of throwing in her own viewpoint, as she'd already endured a long one-sided conversation of Ginny's attempt to force Draco to go to a Healer, and if not, then at least go to Aunt Molly, only for her boyfriend to wrap himself up in silence in refusal, 'can you please attempt to not wake up the entire building tomorrow morning? I want to sleep, your television addiction none with standing, and if I have to answer the door to angry neighbours because you are still too drunk to-'
'Go to bed early and you will be as bright as a fucking happy bunny with all the sleep you get,' replied Ginny, in an almost bored voice despite the bite behind her words as she passed by the other doorway into the living room, with some kind of bottle clutched in her hand.
'I am not being woken up several hours before I have to,' he said, a pointer finger tapping angrily against his arm at each punctuated word.
'Your Meeting isn't until eight tomorrow,' said Ginny, now off somewhere in the area of the actual Quarters of the apartment, 'as you have been kindly reminding me for the past week, Draco.'
'And I still need to prepare,' said Ginny's Partner, his head ever so slightly tilted.
Hermione's eyes slightly narrowed at the admission from those few words. Draco's Tone remained so careful to not inflict any kind of jab at Ginny, but at the same time cutting any chance for Hermione to gently untangle any further explanation.
-Still doesn't reveal why he let that slip out- Hermione thought –or exactly what he's hiding within that Meeting-
And Draco's pause hanging over the entire conversation made it appear even more significant.
'You are getting up before five?' stated Ginny, footsteps already moving closer to the kitchen.
'There are reasons,' said Draco, irritation colouring as Tone as Ginny's refusal to simply let him have this allowance, but Hell, Ginny... Draco's partnership with Ginny had spanned nearly an entire War, the aftermath of this War and a peaceful period that would continue to exist as long as The Ministry weren't given free reign. By this point, he –knew- Ginny, and he certainly was aware of Ginny's tenacity to seize upon what Draco hadn't said.
-And she certainly won't let him keep this silence over the entire subject lie-
'Will Blaise and Greengrass be with you that early?' said Ginny, standing in the second entrance way to the living room and forcing Draco to have to turn completely around to direct his next words at his Partner.-