DISCLAIMER: This is a garbage fic I wrote back in my weaboo days. It embarrasses me and the only reason I'm not completely removing it and my other works is to remind myself how far I've come as a writer. Also the debate on whether or not I should try rewriting it now that I'm considerably more mature and better and plotting out stories, is still up in the air.

Thank you for understanding. If you decide to continue from here I would like to warn you that it is not pretty in the least.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related. It's J.K. Rowling's (as you all know).

B/N: Hey guys! This is one of my favorite hetro-pairings so since I can't find enough decent ones, I decided to write my own cliché, simple-plotted one. Enjoy!

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Hermione rubbed her eyes groggily, hoping the pounding in her skull would diminish quickly. She cringed as the afternoon light drifted into the room, hitting her in the face with such force she thought her brain would leak through her ears. She clamped her aching head between her hands and prayed to any higher being who could hear her, to stop the accursed pain. Of course none answered, leaving her to give a sigh of annoyance.

Shielding her sensitive eyes from the light, she kicked the covers of her blankets off her body and made to get up when something caught her attention. She felt something sticky and wet between her legs.

Much to her horror it wasn't her own sticky and wet substance that had pooled onto the bed.

Ignoring her head that screamed in protest, she jumped up and surveyed her surroundings. She had awoken in her own bed like she had the past couple mornings, only the sheets were messier than she normally had them since it was just her who normally slept in the bed. No one else was in the room.

Hermione tried to think back to the previous night about what had happened but the last thing she could remember was Ron making fun of her for not being able to drink a whole fire whiskey in one shot. The way he had taunted her about it had gotten on her nerves, enough to make her actually do it.

Then she blacked out and apparently had gotten 'down and dirty' with someone.

Shakily she stood up, moving around her room in search of anything that could give her a clue to had spent the night romping with her. Not a shirt, nor sock lay anywhere. Whoever it had been, they had made sure not to forget anything when departing.

Her head gave an extra painful throb, alerting her attention to the much needed shower and potion mixture that could cure hangovers. Awkwardly, trying very hard not to think about how uncomfortable she was 'downstairs', she made her way to her bathroom that was attached to the corner of her room.

Neville Longbottom laid in her bathtub, passed out with a lopsided party hat on his head and a muggle beer still clutched between his fingers.

Hermione felt her eyebrow twitch as she quickly backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door silently. Slowly she snatched the sheet off her bed and wrapped it around her. Deciding to leave the boy where he laid, she headed towards the bathroom that was down the hall from her bedroom, which was the biggest one in the whole house. When she opened the door she found Luna and Harry passed out next to each other right in front of her door. Harry's arms were wrapped around Luna in a protective manner that at any other time Hermione may have considered cute.

At the moment of course, they were laying in front of her door, and she was semi-naked.

Deciding to ignore all the surprises until after she had a shower, some hangover potion, and some extra strong coffee, she stepped over them and continued down the hall. Much to her disappointment she found one of her guest bedroom doors open where Ginny was sprawled out on the bed, sleeping off her own consumption of butterbeers (unkown to her and the other responsible teenagers present, the 16 year old's drinks had been spiked by a mischievous pair of twins) while her brother Ron was curled up on the floor drooling onto the nice carpet.

Hermione inwardly groaned, feeling more irritated at her classmates the farther on the morning went. By the time she reached the bathroom, she was ready to beat someone with the thickest book she could find. Especially when she discovered the bathroom was already in use.

Not wanting to wake everyone and deal with the drama of the previous night just yet, she rattled the doorknob angrily, wishing she had grabbed her wand off her bed stand so she could charm whoever dared poke there nose out of her bathroom.

A damp puff of red hair and a face full of freckles met her vision as George popped his head out of the bathroom. When he spotted Hermione looking like a cat who had just been tossed into a pool, he quickly held up a finger and shut the door.

The brunette could almost feel her temper increase at his actions. Suddenly the door opened and he exited, waving for her to enter. Her mind registered the fact that he left wearing only a short towel around his waist, but it was only pushed to the back of her mind to think about later. At the moment she felt to dirty to think much more and just hoped the water would beat away all her problems momentarily.

Instead, the water only gave her a more peaceful surrounding in which to ponder the night before. The fact of the matter was she had slept with someone who didn't stick around to say 'Good Morning'. Or maybe they had just relocated to a different room once the two had finished? She rubbed her head, wishing she had taken a hangover remedy thirty minutes ago so that it would have kicked in by then.

A knock at the door drew her from her thoughts as Ginny's voice floated in, "Hermione? Fred and George say breakfast's ready."

Instead of sending the younger girl a solid reply Hermione more or less mumbled a, "Mmmm." and said no more.

She finished quickly, figuring she wasn't the only dirty feeling one, and made a hasty retreat back to her room, thankful that no one was about to see her wet and wrapped in a towel, dragging a damply spotted bed sheet behind her.

She began to undress, pulling her bra on when Neville slammed the door open from the bathroom, making her jump. When he saw Hermione in the middle of her actions his face turned a deep red and he quickly retreated back into the restroom, shouting a quick, "Sorry!"

That morning just was not her morning.

She got dressed in record time, quickly making sure her hair was brushed and her bed sheets were removed to possibly hide her shame for being so loose with someone and not even knowing their identity.

Before she left she knocked on her bathroom door to tell Neville she was leaving, before closing her bedroom door behind her and walking towards the kitchen.

The eight of them were spending a few sunny weeks on the sunny beaches of England's nicer western coast line, with permission from their families (The Weasly's standing in as Harry's guardians) and the agreement of Bill Weasly, allowing them to borrow his vacation home. They had arrived there three days ago, and were already having wild drinking parties thanks to Fred and Georges abilities to steal muggle alcoholic drinks without much effort. All of them, aside from Luna and Ginny, were adults in wizard years, but even then it was a bit far for them to go on a drinking binge after gaining their parents trust.

Yet that's what had happened, and somehow Hermione had let go and joined in the festivities, even forgetting as much as to check to make sure the drinks were clean for them.

Hermione sniffed, as if to announce her presence, as she entered the kitchen to find most everyone accounted for, besides Neville and Luna who had both decided to take showers. No one was really in a chatty mood due to the immense hangovers, which suited Hermione just fine. She sat down in between Harry and Fred, nodding thankfully to Harry when he offered her a cup of the foulest, petrid, green liquid you would ever have the misfortune of drinking. Some would say it was even worse than the horrible polyuice potion. At the moment it was like a brilliant light was shining down upon the green, bubbling cup of hangover medicine making it a god-like remedy for her pains. Hermione quickly drained it, covering her mouth when she was finished to make sure she didn't vomit it back out.

As she settled down, she looked around the table summing up all her male companions. There were five possible suspects, one of which having screwed her only hours ago. The only problem was finding out who it was without anyone else knowing.

Casually she took a drink of her orange juice before asking, "So, you guys remember what happened last night?" Harry looked at her, shaking his head, allowing her to only then notice the puffy red circles beneath his eyes. He had obviously been up to late the night before.

"Not a clue." Ron muttered cupping his own mug of hangover medicine, eyeing it distastefully. "What in bloody hell do they put in this?"

"Frog bladders." Fred offered.

"Toad tentacles." George tried.

"Seaweed, heart of newt, and some other less appealing things." Hermione muttered taking another savory sip of her orange juice, trying to wash out the taste of the hangover potion.

"Ick… Well, cheers." Ron muttered with a pale face as he held his mug up and chugged it. It only took three seconds for him to jump up and run for the trashcan.

"If you throw it up, it won't work. After it's entered your mouth your body won't accept another dose." Ginny advised her brother who had his hand over his mouth and was trying not to let anything spew out.

"How much did we drink last night?" Harry asked, pulling everyone back to the subject Hermione had brought up.

"I think I had about seven muggle beers, two fire whiskeys, and I think you made me a martini." George said, turning to Fred who nodded, affirming his twins suspicions. "I remember thinking it was damn good."

"I remember Hermione chugging that fire whiskey, then throwing the mug in my face." Ron grumbled into the trashcan, sending a glance to the brunette who looked innocently out the window, as if not hearing his statement.

"Where did you two sleep last night?" Hermione asked the twins who both had a piece of toast held up to their awaiting mouths.

George opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Fred. "Why…? Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Oh course. I was just wondering if daft's like you who drink so often haven't lost most of your brain cells and the ability to remember such events." She retorted as her migrane spiked at the tone of Fred's voice. For some reason just sitting near him was pissing her off. She hated lying, but the situation seemed to call for it, for what ever reasons she couldn't decide.

"Well 'daft's' like me, build up an immunity after some time, so there's no way that I wouldn't remember last night." He replied sharply earning the suspicious glances of his peers and siblings.

"So what did happen last night?" Ginny asked rubbing her own head as if that would suddenly bring back all the events of the previous night.

No one answered as various, blurred memories came seeping back to certain individuals from their escapades earlier.

…...

A/N: It would seem skateboarders attempting to censor romance novels (Rob Dyderk or something's, Fantasy Factory) has caught my attention and rendered me unable to write more at the moment.

PS: Oh god. I keep finding mistakes in this so I keep reuploading this and switching it over chapter 1. I have done this 6 times now… no joke. Next time I should just have my friend beta it before hand. XD