A/N:

Whew. So much help :") Thanks to Viola, Elaine, Tsu and Cass from Ravenclaw, and Lizzy and Di from the Arrows!

(Un)tempted By Expectations

"For the last time, Ron, I am not going to participate in your weekly drinking session," Hermione stated flatly, sipping her Gillywater in a hopeless attempt to appear preoccupied. "It's a work night." It was almost eight, and she had just arrived home from a stressful press conference that had been attended by major newspapers from across the continent. And the heavy rain wasn't working wonders for her mood, either.

"Don't be a killjoy, Hermione," cajoled Ron. "Seriously, if I had a Sickle for every time you said that - wait, if I had a Knut for every time you said that - we would be rich enough to buy Firebolts for the entire England Quidditch team. Besides, it's a great way to spend a rainy day! Everyone needs to take a breather from work once in a while. Don't you agree, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione fixed him with one of her patented glares, the kind that could have given You-Know-Who himself cold feet, and he closed his mouth with a click.

"I have no obligation to live up to your warped expectations of a 'cool' person, Ronald," she answered, tone mild. Most people who knew her well enough, however, should have been able to see that she was practically boiling over with anger. (Unfortunately, Ron seemed to be set on ignoring said anger.)

Secretly, though, she admitted that it was true: she really did want a break.

You can't, screamed the logical side of her, the part that could have landed her in Ravenclaw. You have work.

But so did Harry, and he was already waiting by the door, still watching the exchange with undisguised interest. Well, he's Harry. He does what he wants anyway. You're the Minister for Magic, for Paracelsus' sake - you should be setting a better example! Not getting drunk in Hogsmeade the day before an Extraordinary General Meeting!

Perhaps she could just get a Butterbeer - not Firewhisky or anything too strong…

Resist the temptation, you git!

"Don't make her do anything she doesn't want to do, Ron," snapped Ginny from across the room, where she was busy winning in a game of Exploding Snap. But Hermione had already risen from her armchair, arms crossed in front of her in what she hoped was a reluctant but resigned stance.

"Alright, I'll go," she gritted, silently cursing her lapse in willpower. This won't happen again. "If only to make sure you don't choke on slugs again."

Ron grinned. "I won't."

XXXXXXXX

"I still think this is a bad idea."

Ron shot her a baleful look as they hurried into the Three Broomsticks, dispelling the Umbrella Charm with a careless flick of his wrist.

"You always do," he said good-naturedly, disappearing into the mass of semi-inebriated wizards.

"Just bear with him for a bit, you two," Harry whispered, his expression apologetic. "You know how he is."

"Fine," Ginny muttered - after some deliberation, she had attached herself to the group as well, citing the same reason as Hermione. Looking faintly harassed, she grabbed Harry's arm and headed off after her brother.

Hermione scoffed but still followed them over to a table near the back of the pub, where a figure sat in the shadows, folding a napkin delicately into some sort of origami model.

"There you are, Weasley, Potter," drawled a familiar Slytherin voice. "I was starting to think you'd finally chickened out. Oh," the figure spun around in his chair, "you've brought Weaslette and Granger along as well. How nice."

Hermione sucked in a horrified gasp and whirled around to grab Harry by the arm. "You didn't tell me Malfoy was going to be here!"

He jerked his arm out of her grip, indignant. "Hermione, we're just sitting peaceably in a pub, drinking things, not duelling or breaking any noses," he hissed. "And aren't you the one always telling us not to rise to Malfoy's bait? Not to let him wind us up?"

"I do hope whatever you're saying about me is good," Malfoy called lazily, peering at them through half-lidded eyes. She remained silent, biting back the dozen comebacks that sat on her tongue.

"Think of it as practice for that," he told her, before sliding into the seat next to Malfoy, who surprisingly made no move except to wave Madam Rosmerta over.

Shrugging, Ginny sat down on Malfoy's other side. Hermione hovered by the table, a hand on the back of the chair, uncertainty fluttering in her chest like fleeting butterflies.

"So will that be four Firewhiskys, or five?" Madam Rosmerta chirped.

She could feel four pairs of eyes on her, waiting for her response. Green, blue, brown, grey. Outside, the rain drummed irregularly on the windows and walls, like an ominous background track in a horror movie.

"Make it four Firewhiskys and one Butterbeer, please," Hermione said, pulling the chair out and settling into it, trying to ignore the triumphant look on Ron's face.

Boy, this was going to be a long night.

XXXXXXXX

"And that was how I got away with hiding Ashwinder eggs in my bedroom," Draco finished, his sentences beginning to blur together from his third Firewhisky. Beside him, Ginny giggled and downed her last gulp of Firewhisky as well, her red hair splayed out haphazardly where her head was resting against his shoulder.

"Didn't expect you to be such a rebel, Malfoy," Ron commented, words punctuated at intervals by hiccups.

Hermione took a swig of her Butterbeer and surveyed the table and its occupants; Ron's fringe was damp from the humidity inside the pub, the top button of Draco's coat was undone, revealing the ribbed collar of a black crew-neck T-shirt that looked suspiciously like Taylor Swift merchandise, Harry's glasses were still sliding down his nose every three seconds despite his repeated attempts to fix them, and it was probably safe to say that Ginny wouldn't be reporting to the Prophet tomorrow on the grounds on having the worst hangover since the Fat Lady's drinking spree in their fourth year.

All in all, it had not been what she'd expected. Who would have thought that Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley, arch-nemeses from day one, would be able to put their differences aside and let their figurative hair down for once?

She smiled into her Butterbeer tankard as Harry launched into an extensively hyperbolic retelling of the recent false alarm at Gringotts (You've never seen a goblin blush, have you, Draco? 'Cause blimey, that really is something) and snuck a glance at the clock. The rain had long stopped, and the ticking of the hands as the clock struck eleven could be clearly heard in the emptying pub.

"Come on," Hermione murmured to no one in particular, standing up and waving for help. "That's enough temptation for one night."

XXXXXXXX

"Where are you lot off to?" Hermione asked one week later.

"Hogsmeade," Ginny piped, bouncing up and down on her heels like a five-year-old.

Ron looked sheepish. "Look, we understand if you have work and you want to stay in-"

"It can wait," Hermione sighed, making a show of tidying her papers. "Someone needs to play the part of the sensible friend and Apparate you all home in case you get too drunk." She knew it was a feeble excuse - the Three Broomsticks had a very responsible policy that involved restoring drunk customers to sobriety - but shoved the thought aside.

"But-" Ron started to say something, but was silenced by Harry holding his hand up.

"Hermione's right," he agreed. "It's better not to trouble Rosmerta so late at night." While Ron contemplated this latest development, he shot her a look that said, You owe me.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, then picked up her wand. "Shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer, she twisted on the spot, the image of the Three Broomsticks in her mind's eye. Maybe, just maybe, giving in to temptations on occasion wasn't as bad as she'd thought.

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The Houses Competition

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 3

Category: Standard

Prompt: [Location] Hogsmeade

Word Count: 1324

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Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Team: Appleby Arrows

CHASER 1: Write about a canonly virtuous / innocent character resisting temptation.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS:

#6: (quote) "I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny, but we can have lots of good fun that is funny." ~ Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat

#9: (word) expectations

#14: (dialogue) "If I had a Knut for every time (...) said that." (fill in the blank with any pronoun or name)

Word Count: 1324