It had not even been a week since their incident in Potions – now it happened again. During her patrol on next Wednesday's evening, she could not help but notice a very high group of Slytherins, having numerous bottles of butterbeer in stocks – which was probably spiked with Firewhiskey – because there was no way they had got that smashed purely because of butterbeer. That would be absurd.
"Have your lot been sober in this term yet?" she asked harshly which ended their light conversation immediately.
Daphe Grengrass – with Tracy Davis on the side – tried to melt into the alcove where she was sitting while Pansy Parkinson – not so effectively – used Nott to hide her existence from her curious, stinging eyes. Goyle squirmed at the corner, while the other three troublemakers didn't show any signs of fear toward her however she still did feel their reluctance flit in the air.
Then the ice mood suddenly took a 180 turn – with a very drunk Blaise Zabini nearly knocking her down with an excessive war cry of happiness: "Granger!" And he did the most unexpected thing of all – deliriously nuzzled his head to her cheek.
It was an entirely new level of weird. Absurd. Surreal. Unfanthomable.
She effectively showed off the idiot and stepped away before he could launch himself on her yet again.
"You do know that I can get your house points in minus easily, right?"
They nodded instead of shaking their heads – probably in fear that it would make the aisles spin around their axis.
So Hermione Granger ignored their steady answer with a scowl. She did not have any energy to deal with drunkards at eleven o'clock. Not to mention her patrolling partner was only a few corners away, if he – god forbid! – saw them, the Slytherins would get into a bigger trouble, that even their galleons couldn't handle. Not to mention that it'd most probably involve McGonogall, Slughorn, and with that, her precious hours of sleep would be reduced to zero.
And she definitely didn't want that.
So this left her one choice really – help the idiots in their common room and hoping that they stay there for the next few hours at least.
When she opened her mouth to speak, she noticed how her classmates did no effort to be quiet, they started conversing from the very beginning – about ducks. Ducks! – as if her presence was nothing but meaningless.
"Malfoy! Zabini! Nott!" she barked at the three men as they dazedly looked at her direction, Blaise still lying on the floor, nearly getting his head twisted in the position. "You threw that mess," she pointed at the abandoned, empty bottles lying on the cool stone of the corridor, "you clean it up. Now!"
They grumbled some more as they bent down on knees, to get the bottles as Zabini just reached out and pulled the clashing bottles to his chest, protectively hugging them as if the world depended on them. He played that he was a mama duck and protected his offspring.
"Oh Merlin," she sighed as she used her wand to levitate to her all the bottles, even taking them away from the men's, to Blaise's chagrin – he whined for his babies pathetically, "You're wizards!"
"We're aware," chirped Parkinson, now from behind Goyle as Nott was still on the floor, trying to get Zabini to standing position with a grumbling Malfoy added to the mix.
She smiled at her hardly visible black locks, that just reached an inch above Goyle's robust shoulders, "And I hope you know Parkinson that you're all out after curfew. I should report you to McGonogall at that instant."
"But you won't," came Malfoy's baritone straight from near her ear. She stepped away hurriedly, intimidated by his close proximity, trying not to think how he scared her to the core. Damn him! Even drunk, he was able to sneak up upon her easily and make her heart flutter!
His infamous smirk was in place as he squinted down at her, his cocky demeanour intact.
"I'm willing to bargain," she confirmed after a few long breaths.
The grins, the Slytherins were sporting, were way too wide for somebody that had no understanding of their environment.
"What do you want," Daphne asked as she emerged, Pansy helping the blonde with offering her delicate hand for her. She smiled at her gratefully. Tracy Davis stumbled to her feet all by herself which impressed Hermione – after that amount of alcohol she'd be reduced to a hysterically laughing mess, uncharacteristically complaining about the too much homework.
"Hogwarts: a History's first edition? Jewellery? Ogden's Finest?" guessed Nott absently, holding up the blabbering Blaise Zabini all by himself.
She was tempted to say yes to the book, but she realized they wouldn't get her point and would just continue on with their nightly activity where they left off, giving her more headache and waste more of her time.
"Just tell us, Granger," Malfoy purred flirtatiously, his shining grey diamonds looking at her with a familiar intensity, however he didn't say anything inappropriate. He wouldn't need to anyway – his gaze spoke for itself.
At least he didn't dare touch her this time.
Hermione narrowed her eyes without humour, "Tranquillity," she snapped.
And with that she went to the direction where she came from, leaving the Slytherins to do their own business by themselves, not interested in their survival of alcohol poisoning.
Little did they know about the Rawenclaw prefect who had seen the whole exchange.
Thank you for all the reviews guys! ;D I dare hope we can keep up the numbers! And sorry for still not answering for reviews, I'll I swear. In this week. For sure.
Also, I got some questions about Hermione's state of mind and her willingness of speaking about her trauma. Well, next snippet is partly about that. Be prepared! ;D