Title: Forget Your Troubles
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing but used tissues after the movie last night.
A/N: One of those fun things about being a fanfic writer is that you spend a good portion of your life walking around being inspired by your surroundings. You walk around the Renn Fest and think, "I wonder how Sev would react if Hermione dragged him to one of these?". You decide to cut your hair and can't help but wonder if Hermione would kirk out if Sev cut all of his off. Well...you get the idea. THIS fic is the product of Rickmanlover24601 dealing with MY drunk butt; she requested a fic where "Hermione is drunk and slurring". Because I don't already have 112 WIPs in 5 fandoms to work on...
HG/SS
She never thought she'd end up here, under these circumstances. She was the brightest witch of her age, after all, a member of the Golden Trio, and was instrumental in the downfall of one of the greatest evils their world had ever faced. She was even going to marry one of her best friends. Her life was perfect.
Too bad that was all rubbish.
So here she sat, in a dark corner of a seedy muggle pub, getting quietly drunk.
"Hermione?" a familiar voice inquired.
She looked up blearily and met the puzzled gaze of Severus Snape.
If someone had told her during her years at Hogwarts that she and the surly Potions Master would not only one day have amicable conversations and collaborate on research projects, but would also become friends, she would have laughed herself silly.
In fact, she felt like giggling just thinking about it… and did.
"Hullo, Sheverus," she said. Shite, she was slurring, wasn't she?
"Woman, what in Merlin's name are you doing here?" he asked, gesturing to their somewhat questionable surroundings.
"I'm drinking myshelf into a shtupor, if you musht know," she replied airily. Yep, definitely slurring. "Pleashe, join me."
Snape's frown deepened, though he did take the chair across from her. As she knocked back the rest of the whiskey in her glass, she didn't even have to look at him to know that he was inspecting every inch of her carefully.
"You're not wearing your ring," he observed, the unasked question evident in his tone.
"THAT is becaushe Ron is a phinal… pinlan… a cheating bashtard. We're through."
His eyebrows climbed, but he said nothing, just signaled the waiter to bring another round.
Hermione woke to a splitting headache and groaned. Note to self: Drowning one's sorrows in a bottle, however poetic, is not a good idea. Forcing open her sleep-encrusted eyes, she turned her head to check the clock on her bedside table and saw the most wondrous thing… a hangover potion.
She unstoppered it with shaky hands and tipped it down her throat. As it took effect, memories from the night before started to come back. Blergh, what a mess! Knowing that she needed some time to think and regroup, she sent a hasty owl to St. Mungo's, saying that she'd be taking a week of her vacation time and should only be contacted if an emergency arose.
Hermione sank back into her pillows for a few moments, allowing herself one more period of wallowing, before taking a deep breath and getting up to start the day. As she showered and made herself presentable, her thoughts kept drifting towards Severus.
He was a good friend, she mused. From what she could recall, he had sat there with her for several hours, listening to her rant drunkenly. When she'd exhausted all of the names she'd come up with for the idiot, Severus had chimed in with a few that she vowed to file away for later use.
He'd helped her home, tucked her into bed, and left with the promise that he'd check in on her the next day. He'd followed through, too, sending her an owl around mid-morning, asking if she'd like to join him for lunch.
Over the next week, she found herself spending time with him regularly. And enjoying it.
She knew Severus well enough that she'd been half-worried that he'd do something dreadful to Ron, like turn him into a toad and use him for ingredients, but as the days passed and the papers said nothing, she figured that she'd been overreacting. Severus knew that she wouldn't approve of such measures anyhow.
She was met with stares and whispers when she returned to work. She'd expected that, but she was puzzled as to the type of stares she was receiving. The men, for the most part, looked wary; a few even winced when they saw her. The women, particularly the older ones, gave her looks of bemused approval and respect.
It wasn't until she paused before turning a corner and overheard a group of young witches gossiping that she figured out what was going on.
Ronald Weasley, Quidditch star and cheating ex-fiancé, had been mysteriously rendered impotent.
And she knew exactly why.
She smiled slightly; she really would have to send a nice thank-you gift to Severus.
