The castle was silent when Hermione returned on Boxing Day morning with head pounding and body aching. Admittedly, she had passed by a couple of witches taking part in the early morning walk of shame, but they either smirked at each other or waved the other away, not wanting to start anything in their hungover state. Having—thankfully—woken up in the hospital wing, she could only assume that she'd passed out there at some point last night…that or Pomfrey had made sure to secure her there before she could hurt herself further in her drunken state. Viktor had been nowhere to be seen, so she could only assume that he had returned to his ship.
It was still early when she had shuffled out of the hospital wing and found herself tucked away in one of the little alcoves that decorated the hallway. Hidden from prying eyes, she fished out a pair of red and gold snitch-patterned boxer shorts (nicked from Ron's drawers) that hung loosely on her hips and a AC/DC band tee that fell off one of her shoulders. Her loose locks (now retaining their usual frizz) were pulled back into a simple ponytail that looked more like a pompom at the back of her head.
After a fair amount of cursing, her wand and its holster were shifted from her thigh to her forearm, and a pair of mismatched woollen socks adorned her feet in black, white & orange that sagged around her ankles were exchanged for the burgundy dress and jewellery. Stuffing her shoes, dress and jewellery into her pouch, she then proceeded to sling said bag over her shoulder and stand from her crouch. Her stomach roiled as she stood, hand snapping out to brace herself against the stone wall as she tried to regain her bearings without losing last night's dinner.
Damn. It's upstairs! Hermione silently moaned. The Hangover potion wasn't one that she usually needed, for she hardly ever drank so much which meant that what bottles she did have were securely locked away in the bathroom up in her dorm room. Unless…I finished the last one. Stumbling over her own feet, Hermione clutched onto her pounding head as she padded through the castle's twisting corridors until she reached the door she was searching for. Squinting her eyes against the impossibly bright morning sun, Hermione reached out to tickle the pear of the fruit bowl portrait covering the kitchen door. Did I finish the last one? Did I even brew anymore?…I s'pose there's always the Muggle cures…Maiden's tits! My head!
Shuffling down the steps Hermione emerged onto the cold stone floor and was met by the few House-elves still bustling about the kitchens. "Missy! Missy! It's so good to see you again, Missy!" Squeaked one of the smaller elves; her high-pitched voice reaching peaks that made the witch wince and clutch her pounding head.
"So loud!" Hermione complained as she felt a petite hand wrap itself around hers and lead her over to one of the tables in front of the roaring hearth.
"Tiny is sorry, Missy! Tiny is excited to have Missy! And Missy has Tiny! And Kay!" The little elf bounced around the kitchen like a child hyped up on sugar. Tiny—as is turned out—was a, well, tiny, House-elf who had dressed herself, not in a sheet or pillowcase like many of the House-elves had, but in a toddler's duck-printed onesie, complete with a button-up butt-flap on the back and Hogwarts emblem on the front.
"It's fine" Hermione groaned, head in hands. At least until the contents of the sentence seemed to register; her head shooting up and turning to the little House-elf. "Sorry—" Hermione winced at the sudden movement, "—Can you say that again?"
"Tiny is excited?" Tiny tilted her head in question, large ears flopping like a dog's.
"No, no, the bit after, about me…?"
"Oh! Missy has Tiny! And Tiny has Missy! And Kay!" Tiny clapped her hands excitedly as she jumped up and down. "Tiny and Kay is bound to Missy! Great witch is Missy!"
"A-and—and…who is Kay?"
"Kay is here, Missy!" Tiny pointed to a soot-covered House-elf that was tending to the hearth and looked up at the mention of his name. He looks like my grandfather, she mused as her gaze roved over the gnarled-looking elf who had turned back to the task at hand. Kay's appearance reminded her of her grandfather when he talked about his times in the Muggle wars; that haunted look he'd get when he'd get lost in his memories and how he appeared to perpetually grumpy. Long, large wrinkles were engraved into his skin and seemed to hang off of his frame like a bloodhound's. Evidently, the mossy-coloured sheet he wore almost seemed to blend in with his skin tone.
"Uh, since—since when? I-I don't remember…" Hermione scrunched her brows in puzzlement.
"Last night, Missy! Missy comes to kitchens with red wizard! And Missy binds herself to us! Tiny is sooo happy!"
"Red wizard?" She muttered to herself, "Viktor? Or Ron? What happened last night?"
"See, Missy, see!" Tiny tapped Hermione's left wrist where two small runes had been engraved into her own skin. "Tiny has one too! Tiny is Missy's elf now!" She then shoved her own petite wrist into the witch's face where a matching rune could be seen marring the skin.
"Huh, so there is…" Hermione gently rubbed her thumb over the imprint on the elf's wrist in contemplation. At least until a spark of pain lanced through her head, making her drop the elf's wrist in favour of cradling her own head. "Is Missy okay? Can Tiny do something?" Tiny bent at an odd angle so that her eyes were still lower than Hermione's, subconsciously submitting to the witch as she did so.
"Uh…can I have some green tea?" Hermione winced, "And some ginger and honeycomb, thanks"
"Oh yes, Missy! Tiny can do that! Tiny will do that! Wait here, Missy!" Tiny zoomed off to the other end of the kitchen to prepare the requested items.
Hermione all but collapsed onto the tabletop, her head landing on her arms as she closed her eyes against the seemingly harsh light of the kitchens and tried to drown out the banging of knives and kettles as Tiny went about her chores. Exhaustion pulled at her lids and she was about to give in, if only to stave off the feeling of sickness rolling around in her body when Tiny returned with the tea tray.
"All done, Missy! Tiny hopes yous like it!" Tiny chirped before she was herded back into the kitchen by one of the older House-elves who had been eyeing her since she'd walked in. Slowly raising her head from her arms, Hermione set about concocting the hangover cure courtesy of her mother's expertise. Green tea (for the headache and stomach) which was poured into the floral printed tea cup; next she plopped a couple of slices of crystallised ginger (for the nausea) into the cup where it fizzled and bubbled all the way to the bottom.
Not waiting for the tea to cool, she blew on her cup before gulping down as much of the liquid as she could stomach. When she came up for air, she jostled the cup a little when she sat it back on the saucer, making some slosh over the side and onto her hand. "Ouch!" Hermione hissed pulling her hand away and shaking off the hot tea.
It was only when she brought her hand back to her eye line that she realised why the tea stung more than it should have. All along the knuckles of her right hand had been wrapped in slightly dirty bandages. The bandages themselves appeared to be relatively new and the dirt only just sitting atop the gauze, which meant—since she didn't have it yesterday evening—that something happened during the night.
Slowly unravelling the tightly bound bandages, Hermione found that her knuckles had been split open and were crusted over in dark crusty blood. The split wasn't deep by any means, but it did sting like a bitch and would likely take more than a day or two to heal. Did I take this to Ma'am P? Then why is it not healed yet? Hermione mused as she used one hand to sip from her tea and studied the other.
For the life of her, she couldn't remember what happened the night before, save for a few hazy moments. Flashes of a little yellow canary, dancing wildly, the hospital wing…for some reason and raucous laughter came to mind.
Taking a rather large unladylike bite out of the wedge of honeycomb on her plate, Hermione tried her best to piece together what happened the night before. She remembered being huffy at Ron (which wasn't unusual), then storming off with Padma and Viktor to dance…they went to an afterparty in the Forest. There had been a lot of booze, she'd chatted with her friends, kissed Viktor, and then…
Hermione suddenly jolted upright, her hands slapping against the wooden tabletop either side of the tea tray when a certain memory popped into mind. One that certainly explained why more than just her head and stomach ached. "Oh my Gods…" Hermione breathed, one hand slapping over her mouth in shock as she recalled what happened. "I-I fucked him…Dad's gonna have a cow…" She giggled a little hysterically, running both hands over her face before she shoved more honeycomb into her mouth. However, when she tried to pry further into her memories, all that came up was fuzzy haze and blackness. What a night it must've been…
CRE~AK!
Hermione was bought out of her thoughts with the sound of the kitchen door opening and shutting as someone descended the steps. "Ah, Miss Granger, there you are" McGonagall greeted, coming to sit herself across from the young Gryffindor. Apparently it was so early that even the Transfiguration professor had yet to change out of her nightgown.
"Profesher?" Hermione garbled around the piece of honeycomb in her mouth as she wiped a string of honey dripping from her chin and ignored the disgruntled look displayed on her professor's face. "Ish shomeshing sha matter?"
"I was hoping you could tell me why Mr Weasley was taken to the Hospital wing last night" She replied helping herself to the slowly cooling kettle.
"Ron's hurt?"
"You know which Weasley I'm speaking of?"
"Well, I mean, it's us. There hasn't been a single year where one of us hasn't been in the Hospital wing; I mean, usually its Harry or Ron—Did something happen? Was it the twins? Did they prank him again?"
"No, Miss Granger, he says it was you"
"Me? But what did—" She followed McGonagall's pointed stare towards her bruised knuckles. "Oh…how bad was it?"
"A broken nose, nothing that couldn't be fixed. However, since Madam Pomfrey states that it was you and not him who told her what happened, she refused at first, to heal it magically. Apparently it took a lot of convincing on your part"
"What? I—I was there?" Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion, mumbling under breath "Since when?"
"Miss Granger" McGonagall sipped daintily at her tea, "Can you tell me what might have led up to this incident?"
"Uh, I dunno, I mean, maybe…" Hermione trailed off as she set her tea cup down once more, "Ron was really upset with me about the Ball—especially when he saw who I was with. I think he had assumed that he would go with me if no one else would take him"
"I see" McGonagall's eyes narrowed at the cup in her hands, "Anything else?"
"Uh…" Hermione refused to meet her professor's eyes as something came to mind.
"Miss Granger?"
"Uh, he, uh…I—I—he…"
"You're not in trouble Miss Granger, I'd just like to know what happened"
"Um…Ron, he, uh, he asked if—if I, uh…shagged Viktor beforehand to secure him as my date" Hermione flushed scarlet, unable to look anyone in the eye as she talked, "He, uh, accused me of being a whore, so…I hexed him"
"And…what hex did you use?"
"Um…Mrs Weasley taught it to me over summer, she said I needed to know these sort of things to secure a good husband. She, uh, said it was a little trick that some housewives would use on…wayward husbands"
"…I see" McGonagall straightened in her seat and continued to sip at her tea, her eyes narrowed in thought.
"Is that it?" Having finished her own cup, Hermione was wanting to leave—she was in desperate need of a shower…and a Hangover Potion.
"Yes, that'll be all"
It wasn't until she at the top of the kitchen stairs that McGonagall called out again, catching the young witch's attention just as the portrait door swung open. "Miss Granger?" McGonagall called.
"Ma'am?" Hermione turned to glance down at her Transfiguration professor.
"Well done" Hermione merely grinned in response, her lips softening as she stepped through the doorway and Tiny's high-pitched squeak echoed out after her.
"BYE MISSY!"
Upon arriving back at the unusually silent Gryffindor Tower, Hermione slowly made her way up to the seventh-year girls' dorm room where she figured Victoria would be (it was her from room after all). Shuffling over to the mouse's bed, Hermione oh-so-gently shoved the wizard sharing the bed onto the floor and climbed into the warm spot he had just vacated. "Oompf!" Cried the tired wizard when he awoke to the feeling of falling (admittedly not very far) out of the bed and landing on the cold wooden floor. His sudden eviction from the bed and wake-up call also served to wake some of the others hidden beneath layers of blankets; but not for long. "What the 'ell was that for?" He complained sitting upright and staring at the witch who had just replaced him.
Hermione, who had snuggled in under the many layers of blankets merely smiled tiredly at the wizard—Fred, her hungover mind supplied—before she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. "Hey!" Fred complained, this time catching Victoria's bleary attention.
"Wha—Mi~a?" Victoria yawned she was met with a head of brown instead of red as she had expected; a quick glance down at the floor revealed where a bed-headed Fred had gone. "He~ey! There's our superstar! When d'ya get back?"
"Just now" Hermione mumbled, shoving her head into the pillow. Rolling over to face the younger witch, Victoria watched as Hermione's back rose and fell in gentle movements as the younger witch tried to go back to sleep. Off to the side, Fred (bedhead and all) had removed himself from the wooden floor and curled up at the witches' feet like a cat.
"Where were you? We lost you after you had to see the karaoke session last night"
"Yeah—" Hermione rolled her head over to face Victoria, "—I, uh, ended up in the Forest and, uh, not—not alone"
"What!" Fred shot up like he had been electrocuted; his thoughts catapulting straight towards the dark and dreary.
"Woohoo!" Victoria cheered, her mind, on the other hand, diving towards something a little more kosher.
"Ah!" Hermione winced at the loud noise, "No woohooing! No woohooing!"
"Well…who was it? Was it Krum…Or someone else?" Victoria pursued.
"Nah, it was Viktor…I think…Who else would it be?"
"You think?" Fred interjected, his parlour paling as he turned all overprotective brother on the young witch, "You think? Mia! You're only fourteen for Merlin's sake!"
"Well, first of all—" Hermione rolled over to stare at the wizard sitting on her feet, "—I'm sixteen—"
"—Since when?"
"Since always" Hermione grumbled, "And anyway, why is it any of your business who I fuck?"
"So wait—" This time it was Victoria who interjected, "Did you two really…?"
"Uh huh" Hermione nodded, falling back onto the pillows with a sigh and slinging one of her arms over her eyes to block out the radiating morning sun from burning her eyes.
"…Have you taken the potion yet?"
"Hangover? No…Pregnancy? No"
"Well, don't worry. I think we've got some in the bathroom, c'me on" Victoria pulled Hermione out of bed and towards the bathroom; stepping around the other occupants of the room who had been sprawled about like pick-up-sticks. A couple members from the afterparty were littered amongst the Gryffindors, fast asleep and enjoying their sleep before they woke to hangovers.
Fred, who had followed after like a lost puppy, slumped against the wall of the end toilet stall as Hermione seated her bleary-eyed self on one of the toilets. Victoria in turn, busied herself with searching through the large chestnut medicine cabinet off to the side where a variety of potions and Muggle devices lay. From first-aid kits to pregnancy tests, to Pepper-ups and Calming draughts, to condoms and birth control, the cabinet held them all (most of the bathrooms did, though they were hardly used).
"Here ya go" She came back with a goblet in hand; the viscous liquid inside sloshing around and barely spilling over the rim. "It'll make ya have to pee like a kelpie, just so ya know"
"Thanks" Hermione replied, tossing back the goblet and situating herself on the toilet properly as Victoria sat against the wall facing her."What the hell happened last night?"
"You really don't remember, Wicked Witch?" Victoria teased.
"I…remember bits and pieces…and a couple of things that I've put together" Hermione replied as the potion suddenly hit her and she began to pee.
"Well, what do you remember?"
"I remember…Ron being pissy, hexing him, going into the Forest…uh, we did shots, there was kissing…Viktor and I, y'know…and that's it"
"Okay, and what did you put together? Did you talk to someone this morning?"
"Yeah, I, uh, bumped into McGonagall in the Kitchens…apparently, I, uh, broke Ron's nose last night"
"You what?" Fred laughed, "With what? What d'ya use? Is that why—"
"—I didn't actually use a hex or a curse, or anything. I think I may have punched him" Hermione examined her rebandaged hand once more. "That's not all"
"What else? What did ya do?" Hermione could almost hear the smile in Fred's voice.
"Apparently I bound myself to two House-elves"
"Ha! Do you even know how to do that?"
"Nope…or at least, I don't think so…"
"So who'd ya get? Can't be Dobby, surely, was it Winky?"
"Winky? No, no, they're called Tiny and Kay"
"Tiny and Kay? The titchy elf in a onesie and the grumpy elf who rolls around in soot?"
"Yep, that's them…still don't know how I did it…Do you know what happened?"
"With…the elves?" Victoria puzzled.
"No…well, yes, but…what do you remember?"
"Well…"
Yule Afterparty, Forbidden Forest 1995
"…And how'd you guys like the shots?" Milo Dorian (a half-blood from Hufflepuff) questioned, coming over to retrieve the floating tray of empty shot glasses from between the group of witches and wizards.
"I drank all five, bitch!" Hermione replied, replacing her latest shot glass with a goblet filled with punch.
"Ha ha! I love drunk Mia!" Charlotte laughed, as the surrounding witches and wizards shared looks of surprise, shock and amusement.
"Charlotte thinks Viktor's a vampire" Hermione drunkenly informed the wizard as she placed one of the empty cups on the tray.
"Ha ha!" Charlotte laughed before shooting Hermione a glare that went unnoticed by the young witch.
"Alright, if she pukes, one of you guys cleans it up" Milo declared as he disappeared to concoct more outrageous drinks for the partygoers.
"No dibs!" Sophie cried, shoving her thumb onto her forehead. Most of the others copying her just in time and leaving Lila out to dry.
"No di—aw, dammit!" Lila cursed, not being quick enough.
"How quickly you all forget, I haven't puked since primary. I'm vomit-free since primary. Vomit-free since primary, that's funny, I'm funny…" Hermione laughed to herself as she plunged her arm into the push at her hip and pulled out a red piece of paper and a quill.
"Whoa! What are you doing?" Victoria asked as Hermione began to write out her Howler.
"Howling Ron" Hermione replied carefree.
"No! Bad idea witch!"
"No, no, it's a great idea" Charlotte interrupted, "That's the whole point of getting drunk—you do things that you'd never do in a million years if you were sober!"
"Says every boy you've ever slept with!" Victoria teased.
"Oh no you didn't!" Charlotte teasingly snapped her fingers in a z-shaped pattern.
"Oh yes I did!" Victoria mirrored the action, before the two witches fell into giggles.
There was pause in the conversation in which Hermione used to scribe her Howler (the first of many that evening). Unlike regular letters, Howlers didn't necessarily need to be handwritten nor delivered by an owl, you just simply said what you want to say—like a medieval talk-to-text message or a Quick Quotes Quill—and the letter would write it down for you. This included the sending information on the envelope.
With the red page seated before her, Hermione began to speak. "Hello Ronald, it's Hermione. I don't say this enough, but you're great friend and a great wizard. You should be in the Daily Prophet—you should be one of the prophets! Oh! And if you ever try to backtalk me again, I'll castrate you with a teaspoon! A teaspoo~oon! Ha~ha! That's funny! I'm funny! Teaspo~oon! Teaspo~oon!"
"Okay, that's enough" Victoria yanked the Howler and Quick-Quotes Quill away from Hermione, but wasn't able to stop the little red letter from folding itself up and zipping off to find its recipient. "Oh that's gonna bite you in the ass later"
"Wow, right, that's why we don't do shots" Charlotte nodded sagely as she drank from her own fruity-flavoured goblet.
"Friends, don't let friends drink and howl" Victoria gestured with the feathered quill.
"I need that quill back" Hermione demanded.
"You'll get this quill back at the end of class"
"Ding! Class dismissed!" Fred grinned, snatching the quill from his date and handing it to the younger witch, "Here you go, kid, you write whoever you want!"
"Thank you, kind sir! At least someone appreciates the fact that I am doing and not thinking!" Hermione rose to her feet, spinning once as if she was trying to figure out where she was, "And now, I don't think I won't not go to the bathroom!" She disappeared into the crowd of people, leaving her friends and date behind.
"Was that necessary? She's not making smart decisions" Lila turned to the redhead.
"Exactly! It's like what's she gonna do next? I don't know, but I wanna find out!" Fred cheered.
The answer came sooner than expected. The intro to Belinda Carlisle's 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' blared from the gramophone in the corner, cutting out whatever bohemian-indy witchy song had been playing. A few grumbles sounded from the crowd, but most were either too drunk to care. "Belinda Carlisle? Oh Otto" Victoria sighed as the group twisted to watch what Hermione would do next.
Having been waylaid by the gramophone in the corner, the witch had decided to play one of the Muggle tunes that she and her mother liked to sing and dance around the kitchen to when they thought no one was looking. Of course, now everyone was looking but Hermione was too wasted to care. With the music blaring behind her, Hermione sang into the new Howler now hovering next to her as she sang along to the song, uncaring if she sounded tone-deaf or not.
Ooh baby! Do you know what that's worth?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth!
They say in heaven, love comes first!
We'll make heaven our place on earth!
Ooh heaven is a place on earth!
"I LOVE EVERYONE AT THIS PARTY!" Hermione declared, hands in the air and grinning like the cheshire cat.
"And we love you, drunk Mia" Charlotte toasted to the singing witch, who danced over to the group and pulled Viktor into a carefree dance.
"Well, that explains the looks Ron was giving me this morning" Hermione sighed as she continued to pee. "Circe! How long am I going to have to pee?!"
"I did tell ya you'd have to pee like a kelpie" Victoria shrugged.
"Yeah, yeah"
"What did you mean about Ron, this morning?" Fred piped up.
"Oh, I passed him in the common room; he was in front of the fire place, just sitting there with his hands down his pants—looked like I'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar or something…" Hermione shook her head, ridding herself of the image.
"Wait! You caught him jerking off in the common room?" Fred laughed.
"He was giving it a damn good go" Hermione replied, before turning to Victoria, "Uh, how many Howlers did I write in the end?"
"A fair few as far as I can remember. After the unexpected karaoke session, we took you back to the castle" Victoria smiled.
"But I didn't stay in the castle, did I?"
"Not if what you remember is true" Victoria agreed, "You should ask the others, see if they remember anything"
"How about Charlie? Do you know where she is?" Hermione asked.
"Charlie?" Victoria puzzled. Off to the side, the sound of someone shifting around in the bathtub caught their attention.
"Charlie?" Hermione peeked around the end of her stall and watched as Victoria rose to peer inside the deep bathtub sitting across the room.
"Hullo" Charlotte tiredly greeted as Victoria peered down at her.
"Why are you sleeping in our tub?" Victoria asked.
"Oh! The porcelain keeps the dress from wrinkling"
"How'd you get in her anyway? We put Mia to bed 'round 2am"
"Oh you put Mia to bed alright!"
"You guys take care of—hic— me" Hermione sighed dreamily as Victoria tucked the younger witch into her bed while Fred waited at the door, watching the interaction much like a parent would for their young child. "You guys are the best! I love you guys so—hic—so—hic— much!"
"G'night Mia" Victoria joined Fred at the door. "Love ya too"
However this didn't last for long, not half an hour later, Hermione had returned to the afterparty in the Forest, only this time a couple of people had left. "I'm back, witches!" She sang, drunkenly spinning into the cavern. How she was able to navigate the twisting tunnels while drunk, she'd never know, but she was here and that's all that mattered.
"He~ey! She rallies!" Charlotte cheered, high-fiving Hermione "And the night begins now! Alright, game faces on! Milo! Two more! All right! What do we think of this one?" She pointed out a wizard solemnly leaning against the wall with a goblet in his hand as he watched the party with disinterested eyes.
"I think—" Hermione swayed.
"ARRRNN! Trick question! No thinking!"
"Right!"
"You know what time it is? It's do-o'clock! Let's ride!" Charlotte sashayed over to the lone wizard, assuming that Hermione would follow. She did not. Instead, she was off in a corner writing yet another Howler.
"You're Howling Weasley" Charlotte stated angrily as she stomped back over to the witch.
"I'm Howling Ron" Hermione agreed amicably.
"Otto! As your senior and spiritual guide, I forbid you from Howling him!"
"Oh yeah? What'cha gonna do?"
"If you finish that Howler, I'll set you on fire" Charlotte pulled out her wand and waved it menacingly.
"Heh! You're bluffing!" Hermione scoffed, going back to the Howler, "Heeeeey, Ron! You wanna—"
"Incendio!" Charlotte pushed her wand tip against the skirt of Hermione's dress, watching as the fire licked up the material like wildfire.
"AAAH! OWW!" Hermione yowled, not actually hurt by the flames but still scared that Charlotte went through with her threat.
"You set me on fire" Hermione deadpanned, looking ever so elegant on her porcelain throne.
"Real satin wouldn't have gone up so fast. You got robbed that dress was a blend" Charlotte defended as she came to join Victoria in watching her pee.
"You set me on fire"
"What? It's not like you haven't done that before"
"That was different" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.
"Oh really? How so?"
"Are you done yet?" Victoria asked Hermione, cutting through her grumbling response to the earlier question.
"Uh…I think so?" She replied, the stream of piss sounding like it was starting to taper off. "How do I even know if I'm okay? Is it like a Muggle pregnancy test?"
"Uh, I dunno about the Muggle ones…but if you're pee is black then you're pregnant and if it's clear, then you're not"
"Oh, okay, so kinda like the Muggle ones"
"What do you do with the Muggle ones?"
"It's kinda the same—you pee on a stick and wait for the results. One line means you're not pregnant and two lines means you are"
"I guess"
"Hey, I think I'm done" Hermione finally unglued herself from the toilet seat and twisted to see what colour her urine had changed into.
"Well, what colour is it?" Victoria asked, ignoring Fred's snores.
"Uh, it's clear"
"Oh good! That's good!"
"Yeah" Hermione agreed flushing the loo and joined the others on the floor of the bathroom after washing her hands, "Hey wait! Was that it? Was that all you remembered from last night?" Hermione asked the Hufflepuff.
"Yeah; after I dunked you in the Lake, I brought you back here"
"I better not have gotten burns!" Hermione warned as she inspected her arms for any lingering injuries. None were found, but someone had written a message along the inside of her forearm:
HI, I'M HERMIONE GRANGER. IF LOST PLEASE FETCH
POPPY POMFREY OR MINERVA MCGONAGALL.
"I guess the next person to ask would be Pomfrey or McGonagall?" Charlotte suggested, twisting her neck to read the message.
"But I already talked to McGonagall and she didn't say anything except for punching Ron" Hermione replied. "Whose handwriting is this, anyway?"
"I think…it's Dorian's" Victoria peered at the outstretched arm.
"Milo?" Charlotte puzzled, "That's gotta be it, surely! He's the only one who dots his I's with stars"
"Well, do you know where he is?" Hermione asked.
"Uh, yeah, he'll be in the common room"
"Ours or yours?"
"Mine"
"Cool" Hermione nodded, wincing at her still achy head, "So about that Hangover potion?"
A few moments later, Charlotte, Hermione and Victoria were clustered beneath one of the castle's large coloured windows as they listened to the tale that Milo spun. Having left Fred to sleep the rest of last night off in the girls' seventh-year bathroom, the Gryffindors only had to wait so long before both Hufflepuffs remerged from their common room; one of whom was nursing a large mug of coffee.
"So what d'ya wanna know?" Milo drawled, nursing his black coffee.
"Do you know what happened last night? What I did last night?" Hermione asked.
"Oh yeah" Milo grinned wickedly and then he filled them in.
"Charlie, you've always taken care of me. You are a lady and a scholar!" Hermione declared as Charlotte tucked her in to bed for the second time that night. "Go into my stable and take my finest unicorn! He's yours! His name is Dickie-bird!"
"Sleep it off, Otto" Charlotte softly laughed as she quietly exited the fourth-year dorm room and made her way up the seventh-year dorm room where she snuggled down into the bathtub like it was a king-sized mattress.
No sooner had Charlotte put a Lake-soaked Hermione to bed, did she reappear in the cavern beneath the Nemeton. This time, however, only a few sixth and seventh years were dotted about the place, many of whom had already paired off and glued themselves together. Milo still remained stationed at the make-shift bar watching everything play out with a devilish grin.
"I'm back, witches!" Hermione sang, her dress rumpled and hair starting to refrizz, "And I…am going to throw up!"
"I threw up?" Hermione whined, "Aww! My streak is over! Vomit-free since secondary doesn't sound as cool!"
"Is that really what you're focusing on?" Victoria replied.
"Right, sorry, Milo. Go on"
"Vik~tor" Hermione practically clung to Viktor as the two 'danced' (it was really more grinding and humping with music in the background), "Did you know that the word 'wanderlust' is German for 'strong desire to travel' Isn't that hauntingly beautiful?"
"Танцувай—hic— с—hic— мен, палавница" Viktor slurred.
"Are you a vampire?"
"Are you two alright?" Milo appeared at Viktor's shoulder where Hermione seemed to be slipping off of him like water over rocks.
"Yeah…" Hermione smiled dreamily, "Hey! How easy do you think it would be to sneak into the Kitchens? I have to see some House-elves like right now!"
"Alright, gimme your arm" Milo snatched the quill from Hermione's hand (which she still had for some reason) and used it to write a message onto her arm. "This way, if you pass out in the Lake—"
"—Hehe! That tickles!" Hermione giggled, referring to both the wizard suckling her neck and the quill against her arm.
"—Someone will get a professor to help"
"Thanks Milo, you're such a sweet—hic—sweetie" She drunkenly patted his cheek before turning to Viktor. "C'me on! I wanna see an elf!"
"…And then you two left, giggling like little schoolgirls" Milo finished, draining the last of his coffee much to his disappointment.
"I am a schoolgirl" Hermione reminded him, "Well, I guess that explains the elves…but what about the other bits?"
"I dunno" Milo shrugged, "That was the last I saw of you"
"RUN, WITCHES, RUN!" Cackled Peeves as he chased after students still shuffling through the walk of shame. His voice bounced around the castle and made several people—living and dead alike—wince at the volume, "DIRTY! DIRTY WITCHES! DANCING IN THE DARK!"
"Is that…?" Charlotte bent around the corner to try and see if she could glimpse the poltergeist.
"Peeves" Milo nodded, while Hermione went wide-eyed as Peeves' voice startled a memory to the surface of her mind.
"Mia?" Victoria narrowed her eyes at the look on her friend's face, "What is it?
"Oh Gods…" Hermione murmured.
"What? Did you remember something?"
"Maybe…"
"Hold it" Hermione ordered with eye full of lust and skirt bunched up around her hips. Pressed up against one of the many stone benches that lined the castle's corridors, the pair had glued themselves together once more, this time clothes had become strewn about the place and they cared not for the spectators they would rouse (portrait or student alike). Plied with booze, Hermione's brain had switched the pain of loosing her virginity to the pleasure of the drink and feeling of another inside her. The power she felt bringing this beloved wizard to his knees, turning him form champion to putty in her hands…it was intoxicating!
"I…can't!" Viktor griped, his calloused fingers gripping tight to her hips in a futile attempt to ease the pressure on his bladder as she straddled his waist and mounted his cock like a jockey. The countless amount of alcohol the wizard had drunken that evening would put the Squid to shame and it sloshed around inside him. "Please палавница! I'm gonna piss!"
"What did I tell you?" Hermione purred, her hands hovering over the quivering wizard's overfilled bladder, "Not a drop until I say so"
"Please d-don't…" Viktor scrunched his eyes shut as he felt his cock twitch inside her. The tight, warm walls of the witch atop him held him still, but the occasional roll of her hips and twitch of her lips brought him closer and closer to the edge.
"I'll go easy on you…" She gently pressed her fingertips onto his bare abdomen. Just the smallest touch was enough to make Viktor spasm and dig his fingers into her hips—she would surely bruise later on. He moaned as she pushed down on his bulging bladder and piss threatened to jettison out of him like a fire hose.
"Circe…" Hermione breathed, pupils blown wide in lust and hair standing up like she had been electrocuted, "You're amazing" Leaning down, she plucked his fingers from her waist and pushed them above his head, indirectly telling him not let go.
"пала~вница…please…!" Viktor gasped.
"Please what?"
"Fuck me!"
"Such a pretty mouth—" Hermione ran her tongue over her own lips as her eyes roved over his lip plump from previous snogging, "Aren't you going to put it to good use?"
Viktor needed no further encouragement as he quickly latched onto one of her nipples as they dangled above his head. Her dress was little more than a belt at this point, barely sitting on her frame and acting more as a poor cover-up of their activities and the pasties that had once adorned her nipples had been ripped free at some point in the night.
Hermione moaned as Viktor suckled at her nipple like a babe, though his hands were idle (trapped by her own) her hips were not. Rewarding him for his talented tongue, Hermione rolled her hips against his eliciting a similar sound of pleasure from the teen beneath her; one that rolled through her like a heat wave in summer. Without warning she pushed a knee into his bladder, pressing down—much harder than before—making the Bulgarian yelp as he tried, in vain, to sandwich his thighs together. HIs bladder pleaded for release, but he was simply following orders.
"So beautiful…" Hermione murmured against his neck in between sloppy kisses to the vein that pulsated there. Running her hands down his biceps and forearms, Hermione forced her nipple out of Viktor's mouth as she peppered his chest with soft kisses that left him breathless.
"Oh fuck! пала—ah!" He yelped with eyes screwed shut as a boiling hot wetness spread across his crotch and clenched his muscles to stop the flow. Hermione had not given the order and so he would not go.
But it did not stop, and strangely he felt no relief. Hermione moaned loud and clear as her hands danced up her own chest and grasped tightly to her breasts, squeezing them in lewd satisfaction as she released her own bulging bladder onto Viktor's crotch. She made sure that her moans and the sounds of her piss drove him insane, even rolling her hips against his in an attempt to chase the orgasmic high that came with holding for so long.
She felt him twitch within her, and so she kept going. Emphasising the pleasurable moans and the relief she felt for opening the floodgates, rapidly rolling her hips and bouncing up and down on his pulsating cock, for she knew it was torture.
Unable to take it anymore, Viktor thrust up into Hermione as he enjoyed the wetness which pooled out each time she rose just enough to let the piss flow out between them. "Ah…ah—ah! Mmm! Ah~! Yes!" Hermione moaned, lost in the throes of pleasure as she pissed all over Viktor while simultaneously riding his cock.
"палавница…!" Viktor gasped, the pressure becoming almost unbearable.
"You…know…the rule…big boy!" Hermione gasped out, pleasuring herself as her stream began to trickle off, "Not—mmm!—not one drop, 'til—ooh!—'til I say…so!"
"Please!" He groaned, "Please палавница!" He bit his lip, gasping and groaning against the feeling of warm piss falling about his thighs. It was getting to be too much for the Bulgarian and a wave of desperation fell over him, pulling him down into the realms where pain and pleasure were one.
When Hermione's stream eventually came to an end, she remained seat on his cock and leant forth, pinning his rising shoulders back onto the stone bench beneath them. His breaths came in gasps as she pressed her knee into his bladder. She felt it as a spurt of piss erupted from Viktor, coating her insides in his warmth. The gravelly moan that fell from his lips almost made her cum right there.
"палавница…" Viktor begged, "Let me go! I vanna piss! Let me piss! I can't hold it! палавница…!"
"Good!" Hermione purred, pressing down on his bladder like she was trying to pop it. That was it, the dam crumpled. A deep moan of pleasurable relief followed the jet of piss that shot out of Viktor's cock and dribbled out of the cracks between the two; just as Hermione's piss had decorated Viktor, Viktor's now decorated her.
"Yes…!" Hermione moaned, bouncing up and down on his cock once more as she gripped tight to her own breasts. "So…good!"
"My палавница…!" Viktor growled, his fingers once more digging into her hips as he rolled the two over in a move that spoke of practise. With her face smashed into the wet stone bench, Hermione lost herself in the waves of pleasure that rolled through her as Viktor ravished her. Skin against skin, flesh against flesh, the sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the air all around them, but they paid it no mind, so lost in the pleasure of the moment as they were.
"Mo~ore!" Hermione ordered, never wanting this moment to end, but soon enough it would. Viktor's hip stuttered against her own and he collapsed atop her as cum replaced the piss shooting into her soaking womb. In turn, when he finally pulled out, a stream of piss and cum—a combination of the both of them—squirted out into the puddle of mess between the two.
"—Mia? Are you alright?" Victoria asked, shaking the younger witch's shoulder who stared off into space with a dreamy yet startled look splayed out on her features.
"I'm sure she's fine" Milo replied for her, "If that face is anything to go by"
"DIRTY! DIRTY! WITCHES DANCING IN THE DARK!" Sang Peeves as he floated around the corner, making a game of spotting all those who had snuck off to shag their dates following the Ball earlier that evening. It was by pure chance that as Hermione and Viktor were tiredly redressing themselves that Ron happened upon the scene.
Emerging from behind the portrait that led to the Kitchens, the pair of friends froze. Stuck like deer in the headlights, Hermione and Ron stared at each other like they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Her—holding her unzipped dress to her chest, clearly post-coitus—and him—laden with comfort foods and dressed in his pyjamas.
"Well, what's that face for then?" Victoria turned to Milo, clearly taking in how her friend's face had changed from dreamy to frozen, to furious in a matter of minutes.
"How should I know? I'm not a Legilimens" Milo shrugged.
"You-you PERVERT!" Hermione drunkenly marched towards where Ron stood before them and swung her fist. Slugging him straight in the face, she barely heard the crunch of his nose breaking beneath her fist over his yelp of pain, nor the sound of the portraits around them who had awoken at the noise. Viktor—afraid of being punished by his ghastly headmaster—took that moment to vanish into the night and leaving Hermione to deal with the consequences, (he liked the witch, but not that much).
"OW! 'at da 'ell 'as dat for?!" Ron demanded rolling around on the floor and clutching tight to his now crooked and bleeding nose.
"Ron! Hecate's tits! Are you alright?" She bent down, suddenly regretful of her actions.
"Do I look alright?!" Ron glared at her.
"Uh, right—" Haphazardly shoving her feet into her high heels and zipping up the back of her dress. Even in her drunken state she knew that she couldn't leave Ron on the floor as he was—stubborn boy wouldn't very likely seek medical attention on his own. "—Ma'am P—Hospital wing" she muttered giving a wordless flick of her wand and dashing off towards the hospital wing, mindless of her appearance or Ron's comments.
"Are you sure she's alright?" Charlotte questioned, titling her head as she studied the young Gryffindor. "Should we take her to see Ma'am P?"
"She seems fine" Milo replied peering over at the girl still lost in her memories, "She's probably just lost in her thoughts"
"Oh? I thought you said you weren't a Legilimens?"
"I'm not, but any idiot can see that's what's happening"
"Are you calling me an idiot?"
"If the wand fits…"
"Oi!"
Hermione smiled as she watched the little yellow canary jump around its cage, flitting from the bird swing to the tightly woven wires. Even from her (forcefully chosen) bed in the hospital wing, she could see the little bird happily prance around its cage that was wedged between the medical texts in Pomfrey's office.
Pomfrey had given the two quite the grilling when she had shown up with a reluctant Ron in two. At first, she'd the impression that Ron had assaulted her in some way, given her state of dress, and had refused to heal him—said that any resulting injuries were his own fault. It wasn't until Hermione had jumped in to set things straight that the matron had eventually set the ginger's nose back into place. Unable to help herself, Hermione smiled at the thought. Not long after, sleep came to claim her.