A/N: This is their 7th year, but the all of the events of HBP did not happen. Good old Dumbledore is still with us. I also do not own Harry Potter; that's the genius of J.K. Rowling. Please read and review, and enjoy!

Talk is Cheap

"Did you hear about Hermione Granger?"

"Yeah, isn't that crazy?"

"The things people will do…"

"Who would've thought Hermione Granger would do that?"

These were the whispers that were flying around the Great Hall the morning after the wild party thrown in the Gryffindor common room. Hogwarts had known some pretty crazy parties, but this one would've made even the Marauders proud. Firewhiskey was abundant, not to mention the liquors popular with Muggles, such as rum, vodka, and tequila.

The tequila was the root cause of all the whispering at breakfast. Hermione was not accustomed to drinking, and she was what one might call a "lightweight." When she entered the Great Hall, the whispering stopped and everyone glanced in her direction. Hermione raised an eyebrow and grimaced. Why was everyone staring at her? What is going on? She made her way to the Gryffindor table, trying to avoid the stares. She sank down next to Harry and looked around the room confusedly.

"Morning, 'Mione. Pretty wild night, huh?" Harry asked with the slightest trace of a grin.

"Don't start with me, Harry. I've got the hangover from hell," she said, rubbing her temples. She started to eat her breakfast, and looked up when she felt the two of them staring at her. "What's the problem? Aren't you two going to eat? Food usually doesn't last two minutes on your plates," she said, taking a drink of pumpkin juice.

"Um, Hermione? Don't you want to know what—" Harry broke off his sentence as Ron kicked him from under the table.

"Want to know what? Well, actually, yes, I would like to know why everyone in the Hall was staring at me when I came in. Do I have something on my face?" she asked, looking at her reflection in the back of her spoon. "What happened last night? Anything I should know about?"

When neither Ron nor Harry answered, Hermione looked up slowly. "Did you hear me? What happened last night?" Ron bit his lip and avoided Hermione's eyes. Harry sniggered. Hermione inhaled deeply; she was becoming impatient and quite a bit concerned. She slammed her hand on the table. She looked across the table at Ron; she knew she could drag it out of him better than Harry. "Ronald Weasley. Tell me what happened last night. Now. Why is everyone staring at me like I'm naked?"

Harry laughed out loud at this point, but was silenced by Ron's glare. Hermione looked back and forth between them, and at last, Ron said, "Well, 'Mione, you were."

"I was… what?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Ron gulped loudly and whispered dimly, "Naked."

Hermione's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. She managed to choke out a strangled "Excuse me?"

Ron looked at her sympathetically, his face almost as red as hers. Harry just sat there, staring at his hands, trying not to laugh. Hermione hid her face in her hands.

"Oh my God, this is terrible. What in the world am I going to do?" Before Harry or Ron could answer, Hermione had jumped up and sprinted out of the Great Hall.

Harry glanced at Ron. "Well, mate, good luck with that one," he said, patting Ron on the shoulder.

"What? You have to go talk to her with me, don't make me do this by myself!"

"No way, man, I can't even think about it without laughing, there is no way I am going to be able to make her feel better, she'll just end up hauling off and hurling me out the window. No, mate, you're on your own."

Ron narrowed his eyes and got up from the table. He shook his head. What a git, he thought, Harry just doesn't want to have to deal with seeing Hermione cry. And I don't know if I can… He didn't have time to think; he had to explain to Hermione what happened. He ran up to the Gryffindor dormitory, where he knew she would be.

Hermione lay facedown on her bed, trying like hell to remember what exactly had happened in the common room the night before. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes, but she was determined not to let them spill. She didn't even know what happened. How could she cry over something she didn't even remember? She suddenly got angry. Damn that tequila. She suddenly let out a shriek, sat up, gripped her pillow in her hands, and threw it at the door just as Ron was opening it. It hit him square in the face. Ron jumped into the air. "Bloody hell, Hermione!"

"Don't you know how to knock?" she shouted, but jumped up to make sure he was okay at the same time.

"I was about to, but I heard you shrieking so I opened the door to make sure you were okay," he said, picking up the pillow and handing it back to her. She took it, threw it on the bed, and faced him again.

"I'm sorry, Ron, I'm just so angry at myself. Please, you have to tell me what happened. I can't stand not remembering something that the entire school knows about." She looked at him with pleading eyes. Ron melted; those eyes could get him every time. Ron, what are you doing thinking about her eyes? You're here to tell her what she did last night… what she did… that was bloody fantastic… no! Ron's head was spinning. He grabbed Hermione's shoulder and led her to sit on the bed with him. He took a deep breath.

"Hermione, last night, you had a little too much tequila—"

"I know that, Ronald, my head feels like it's going to split in two," she interrupted impatiently. He placed a hand over her mouth.

"Listen to me. I lost count after your 16th shot. I don't know how much you had total. I tried my best to stop you but I was pretty sloshed myself."

"16? I had 16 shots? I didn't even know I was capable of drinking that much," she exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"Like I said, you had more after that, I just don't know how much. Anyway…" Ron searched for words. "Well, you know that Muggle song 'Tequila makes her Clothes Fall Off?'" Hermione nodded slowly. A line from the song suddenly popped into her head: Tomorrow she'll say, "Oh, what have I done?"

"Well, that song doesn't lie. 'Mione, you pretty much, well, to put it bluntly, gave the whole of Gryffindor a striptease. On the table." He winced, waiting for the reaction.

Hermione just sat there, stunned. She looked down at her hands. How could I…? Ron put his hand on hers gently.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, then brought her hand to her face.

"Oh, God. I remember."

TBC

You like? I know it was kind of short; they will be longer as the story progresses. This is my first fanfic in a long while. Don't worry, there will be some pretty interesting twists in the story, but this is all I could write for tonight; got a final to study for! Please, please read and review so I know what you guys think!!