Author's Note: This chapter was last updated on 12/12/2021.
"What are we celebrating?" Hermione asked as she stepped to the corner of the crowded common room, interrupting an animated conversation between Harry and Ron. It was a typical Sunday afternoon in every way but one: her friends were sloshed. A stash of butterbeers lay scattered on the wooden coffee table, empty bottles toppled over and others half-full and forgotten, and Hermione's skeptical eyes rose into her brows as she commented, "And with an abundance of alcohol, no less."
"There you are!" Ginny exclaimed as she gulped a healthy swig of her sugary drink, patting the squashy sofa cushion in a vigorous gesture as she scooted towards the armrest to make more room, "You didn't come down for lunch! We missed you at the table. Here, sit down and have a bottle!"
Hermione hesitated to join in their public delinquency as Ron interrupted her droll internal monologue with an exuberant, "Dad's been promoted to Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, 'Mione!" He grinned with all of his teeth as he swung his butterbeer in the air in a victorious, triumphant swing, spraying droplets of sticky amber fluid in a splatter on the plaid sofa in his wake. He shook his shaggy red hair to release it from a few errant drops and grinned as Hermione's hands flew to cover her gaping mouth.
Hermione exchanged a delighted look with Ginny and Ron over her fingers as laughter tumbled from her lips. Harry thrust a full bottle towards her abdomen, and she accepted the beer without a second thought for the school's sobriety rules, as this was a celebration after all, and enthused, "That's wonderful!" As she popped the tightened cap off of her amber glass bottle with a practiced flick of her thumb, "Your mother must be thrilled!"
"Oh, absolutely," Ginny snorted with amusement, her lips hovering above the chilled neck of her beer as she smirked, "She'll finally be able to upgrade The Burrow."
Harry recoiled against the back of the sofa as he leveled his incredulous expression at Ginny's profile, his bushy brows lifting above the thin rim of his rounded spectacles as he commented, "It really can't accommodate any more rooms. I don't know how it hasn't already collapsed."
Ginny turned and arched a brow at Harry's dubious expression as she finished the rest of her beer, her lips quirking in the corners as she held out her hand with an expectant snap of her fingers for another bottle from the Golden Boy's secret stash, "Magic, obviously."
Hermione took a tentative sip of the spiked butterscotch nectar as she perched her hip against the neighboring sofa-back, the real reason for her intrusion weighing like a heavy stone on her chaotic mind as she debated the right moment to share her unexpected news. The common room was alight in a flourish of activity this afternoon, with students gossiping on sofas and a loud game of Exploding Snaps playing behind their backs, and while what Hermione needed to share wasn't particularly a secret, she still didn't want to be overheard by unintended company. Ron was motioning with his gangly arms high in the air with an excessive amount of animation for Lavender, who had just climbed through the portrait hole across the room, to join him on the sofa cushion. Hermione kept a smile plastered on her face despite her abundance of nerves as she lifted her beer in the air for a toast.
"To Arthur!" she cried in triumph, laughing with unfettered amusement as the others raised their sloppy, clinking beers in the air and as Lavender jogged to their position to snatch a bottle to clink against her own.
"To Arthur!" "To Dad!" The others echoed in tandem, downing their beers and thumping their glass bottles with a heavy, hollow thud on the wooden tabletop.
"What's going on?" Came Lavender's pleasant, clear as a bell laugh as she reached for a second bottle of sugary suspension, her curly hair tangled in a frizzy mess around her head as if she had run the entire way from the bottom of the Grand Staircase to the seventh-floor landing. She plopped her thin hips on the couch next to her boyfriend's side and leaned her flushed, rounded cheek on his sinewy shoulder as Ron enacted his duty as her boyfriend and helped her pop the tightened cap off of her bottle with his callused thumb.
"Dad's been promoted," he grinned with all of his teeth, his sweet, butterscotch breath fanning against her face as he laid his lips to her forehead in an unhurried kiss, her body frozen in momentary shock against his solid side.
"Why, that's wonderful news!" She cried in a flourish of movement, throwing her arms around Ron's shoulders and kissing the broad planes of his cheeks in rapid succession as his brilliant blush bloomed under her affection. He settled his arms around her back, his glass bottle held in a vice-like grip in his freckled hand, careful not to spill the liquid on her clothing as he rested his square chin on her shoulder in their intimate embrace.
Hermione released a breathy laugh at the affectionate sight as she met Harry's closed-lip smile from across the couch. She shrugged her shoulders in amusement, and Harry threw his head back in a boisterous, drunken chuckle, his spectacles knocking askew with the abrupt motion.
"So, why weren't you at lunch?" Ginny interrupted, patting Harry's knee beside her as he settled into a relaxed state at her side, his black hair untidy and his glasses smudged with fingerprints as he adjusted his frames and wiped at his red nose with his shirtsleeve. He leveled a lazy, handsome smile at Ginny as his eyes glanced at her hand on his knee.
"Well… that's actually why I came to find you. To find all of you. I have news, as well," Hermione expressed with hesitation, folding her arms over her bosom as she fought the nervous jitter in her fingers as she felt a desperate desire to hold on to something, "Although, it isn't… it isn't exactly a celebration, so I'm not sure if now is the best time to tell you. But I do need to tell you rather quickly, as it really cannot wait," she finished with a furrow of her brows as her hand reached for a second beer on the tabletop, her soft thumb popping the cap twice with a sloppy flick before it released and landed on the worn carpet, and her sweaty palm gripping the chilled bottle in a tight hold as she took a healthy swig of the butterscotch drink. Ron pulled apart from Lavender's embrace to give Hermione his full attention, his broad shoulders hunching as he rested his heavy elbows on his knees.
"Is it about Viktor?" He questioned with a lopsided, toothy grin, his eyes alight with amusement. "Did something happen?" He continued as Lavender threaded her fingers through his warm palm, drawing his attention back to their connection.
"No, it isn't about Viktor," Hermione replied with careful consideration, tipping her beer bottle back for another sip of scorching liquid courage as Ron scrunched one blue eye at her in confusion. Harry quirked a serious black brow above his spectacles and rested his arm in a casual position above Ginny's shoulders on the sofa, in a move that went unnoticed by Ron. Harry's shag was in desperate need of a haircut, as the unruly strands were sticking up at the ends from where he'd just mashed his itching red ear against his shoulder. Harry was a particular lightweight when it came to alcohol, and Hermione suspected that her goofy best friend would soon be asleep on the sofa with his heavy arm cast over his tired eyes.
"Is it about your book club?" Harry questioned with knackered interest as the butterbeer's effects dulled his enthusiasm from minutes ago. Hermione counted the number of empty bottles on the table twice, as she had lost track the first time, and surmised that her friends were well ahead of her in their celebration. She finished her drink with a nervous gulp as her hand fumbled for a third bottle from Harry's stash, cutting the soft skin of her thumb on the metal cap as she slipped on her pressured flick. She sucked at her bleeding thumb as she alternated with a healthy nurse from the bottle, oblivious to Harry's expectant, sleepy gaze as he drummed his fingers with impatience on the back of the sofa, his heavy thigh knocking in a clumsy rhythm against Ginny's bony knee while he waited for Hermione's reply.
She knew that she was drinking too much and that she was consuming her liquor far too quickly to be considered safe, and that her parents would surely lecture her on responsibility if they knew that she'd consumed two beers in ten minutes… and that she wasn't setting a particularly good example to the younger classmen as Head Girl…
But, she reasoned in silence to herself as she took another sip of her third sugary drink, her toffee eyes dancing around in a haze as she observed the cozy common room, noting the numerous groups of students who were enmeshed in their own celebrations and gossip, and their own delinquencies… was it really that big of a deal to drink on a Sunday afternoon with her friends? And besides, she reasoned with a shrug of her dainty shoulder, butterbeer didn't actually contain that much alcohol, as the sticky sweet drink was mostly compromised of sugar and syrup… wasn't it?
She giggled into the lip of her bottle as she watched Ginny and Harry's sloppy and public display of affectionate familiarity, her brows rising towards her hairline as she felt like she wasn't the only one who had a secret to tell.
"It isn't about my book club," she announced with increasing nervousness as her giggling subsided and as the alcohol thrummed through her body in a deceiving, courageous hum. Her spirit felt emboldened, and she felt like she was capable of doing everything and nothing at once. She felt simultaneously energized and exhausted, and her thoughts felt erratic and frenzied while also duller than they had felt only moments ago, tangents of ideas slipping and flitting through her grasp as she struggled to remain in the present. She gripped her chilled bottle tighter with her fingers and swallowed another stinging sip.
I really should have eaten something first, she thought with dullish worry as the liquor settled in a heavy ache in her abdomen and as her cheeks began to tingle.
"Is it about you-know-who?" Ginny half-whispered through her fingers as she leaned forward on her knees and slipped off of her elbows, her flushed face rapt with attention as she righted herself and as she gave Hermione a toothy smile. Hermione's answering blush gave her secret away, and Ginny shrieked as Harry and Ron looked back and forth between the two witches with slowed expressions, their lips settling into frowns at the usage of a clandestine nickname and their mouths dropping to protest at being left out of the loop.
"Can we go to my room?" Hermione interrupted in fumbling haste before any further conversation could take place, motioning over her shoulder with her half-full bottle as she settled a glassy, expectant look at her trio of friends.
"Can I come, too?" Lavender asked with a nervous smile from Ron's side, and Hermione nodded her reluctant head as she caught sight of Ron's hopeful expression, eager to have his girlfriend included in their gang. She ignored Ginny's anxious, harder than usual tugs on the back of her shirtsleeve as they ambled up the staircase to her dormitory, only tripping a few times on the uneven stone steps, and Hermione paused as she transfigured her bed into a smaller sofa than usual, snorting into her hands as the alcohol affected her spellcasting. She claimed the armchair for herself as the others crammed in a sloppy flop onto the loveseat, their shoulders smashing with uncomfortable closeness on the squished cushions as Harry's right hip was jostled halfway on top of Ron's lap.
"It's really noisy today," Harry remarked towards her cauldron as he tried to push Ron farther to the side, his red nose wrinkling as the potion bubbled and hissed in response, and Hermione shrugged both shoulders as she set her half-full bottle in a careless wobble on the edge of her oak desk.
"It's normal," she replied with a slow huff, summoning her tartan to her lap and fiddling with the strings as she tried to pull them apart, "I don't even notice it anymore."
Ginny rested her heart-shaped chin on her fist and leaned against the cushioned side of the loveseat, crossing her skinny legs at her knees as she thrust her bony hip in a sharp jut into Harry's side, shoving him farther onto Ron as she scoffed in hazy disbelief at their current predicament.
"Hermione," Ginny warned with a tremble of her bottom lip, her glassy green eyes blown wide with laughing apprehension as she bounced her foot in a restless rhythm over her leg, the alcohol dulling any sense of secrecy that she possessed, "Is this really the right way to tell them? When we've been drinking all afternoon?" She prompted with a wise slur and a slow quirk of a skeptical brow, and Harry frowned down at the top of her ginger head as he asked, "Tell us what?"
"It's the only way, I think," Hermione replied with a nervous giggle as she snapped at a loose thread in her fingers, biting her still tender lower lip a little harder than usual. She'd paced all morning in her dormitory imagining every possible scenario, and while she hadn't factored alcohol into play, it hardly changed the fact that lying to her closest friends on a continual basis was the last thing that she wanted to do, and that she needed to relieve herself of the burden of her experimental plans. She'd determined that the best approach to breaking the news of her casual amorous dalliance with Draco was to gather her trio in her private quarters all at once, where they would have each other for support as she narrated a very brief synopsis of her bewildering tale; lacking most details, of course, such as the glamour that she'd cast on the bruises on her neck – for Ron and Harry's benefit.
Or perhaps gathering them together where they can rile each other up is a terrible idea, her subconscious offered in slow retort as she observed her friends' cramped position on the cushions and their curious, drunken expressions, and she cringed at the intrusive thought.
"I can't believe that you're actually doing this," Ginny snorted with a sluggish shake of her head, her eyes as wide as porcelain saucers and her mouth curled at the corners in bewildered disbelief, "I need another beer. Hold on a moment."
She returned with another round for the group on the couch and plopped in a heavy fall against Harry's solid side, her crossed leg rubbing up and down his trousered calf in a steady motion as she waited with impatience for Hermione's story. Ron's glassy blue eyes cut with slow motion to his sister's caresses and contorted into a furrowed expression as he jabbed his sharp elbow into Harry's abdomen, motioning at their tangled legs in a sloppy flurry of gangly limbs.
"What the hell is this?!" Ron barked, his full beer spilling on Harry's lap and his long arm flinging sideways in an agitated billow that almost smacked his girlfriend. Lavender, the soberest of the wizards on the couch, cringed as she avoided Ron's awkward arm. She dried Harry's trousers with a quick spell from her holly wand as she uttered fumbled, polite excuses with her expressive lips over Ron's sloppiness, tittering at his side as she attempted to settle him.
"It's alright, Ronald," Lavender cooed with eager sincerity as she stroked his leg through his trousers with a soothing hand and a nervous smile, "It's alright."
Ron frowned with dejection at his longest and oldest friend, threading his warm fingers through Lavender's grasp on his lap as he muttered, "I can't believe that you've kept this from me."
Harry sighed as he disheveled the other side of his shaggy black crop, sticking up his strands in such a way that he looked like a wizard who'd fallen off of his broom on a windy autumn day; with his cheeks wind-slapped and his oily strands of hair sticking against his clammy forehead, and he shrugged one languid shoulder as he wrapped his arm in a snug grip around Ginny's petite waist, scooting his body closer to her edge of the sofa cushion as he blew out his nervous sweet breath, muttering a tired, "Well… now you know."
Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes as he nursed a long sip of what was left of his drink, muttering colorful swear words under his breath about tossers and aresholes into the lip of his glass bottle as Lavender's anxious giggles sounded from his side, her nervous hand patting his knee in placating motions as she smiled with an apology at Ginny and Harry.
Hermione decided that this was the perfect moment to finish her third beer after all and flung her bottle in a vertical tip as she drained the rest of the burning, sweet liquid down her throat, trying to ignore the hazy, drunken tension on the opposite side of the room that she was sure to make worse. She fought against a hysterical giggle as the liquor warmed her insides, the sweet, burning concoction sedating her internal commentary.
"It's about time," Hermione congratulated as she saluted Harry and Ginny with her empty bottle. Harry tried not to grin with too many teeth so as not to further irritate Ron, and Ginny scrunched her reddened face as she stuck out her tongue, muttering a quiet, "You basically already knew."
The cauldron hissed and sizzled as the room became silent and awkward, and Hermione wished for a refill of her liquid courage but thought better of it as she decided that she would soon become belligerent if she had any more to drink, as she was already teetering on the edge of lucidity. She tapped her fingers on her armrest as her thoughts officially derailed.
"Well," Ginny interrupted with a slur, tapping her bony fingers on Harry's thigh as she turned her glassy gaze from her brother's surly profile back to Hermione's odd expression, "Do you still think this is wise?"
"No," Hermione giggled as she set her empty bottle back on the desk with a hollow, noisy clatter, "But I'm going to do it anyway."
Ginny sucked in her sweet breath and screwed up her face as she cringed against the back of the sofa, muttering, "Just do it quickly," as she drew her knees up against her chest and tugged her skirt over her calves. She covered her flushed face in her pale hands and peeked through her clumsy fingers while she waited for the spectacle to unfold.
"Do what?" Harry barked with impatience as he looked back and forth between Ginny and Hermione, his beer bottle tipping in a precarious motion in his loose grip as he finally came to the end of his wits with being left out of their secret.
Hermione pulled her tartan over her head as the alcohol made her senses silly. She pretended that she was a ghost of Gryffindor and that she couldn't be any more dead than she already was. "I'm seeing someone," she muttered against the fabric of her green and blue blanket, feeling relieved and terrified when silence greeted her from the other side.
"Yeah, we know," Ron huffed with annoyed laughter after a moment, his feelings still sour from Harry and Ginny's revelation, "Viktor."
Ghost Hermione shook her head, and more silence greeted her. She waited with her eyes closed, even though she couldn't see their expressions through the plaid, and her heart stuttered in her breast as she heard Harry suck in an agitated breath as he groaned, "Oh, God, please say you're joking," as he made the connection, always the more astute of the men in their trio towards matters of the heart.
Ginny's nervous chuckle interrupted the silence as it increased in pitch, and Hermione pulled her tartan to her lap with a tentative fumble of her hand as her courage returned. Ron's confused expression was fixated on Harry, who held his head tipped back against the couch and was covering his face with his sweaty hands, and Ginny had her own flushed face buried in her knees as her shoulders shook with increasing peals of anxious laughter.
"Who are you seeing?" Ron interjected with slow skepticism as he gripped Lavender's hand in a snug vice, "I thought you were seeing Viktor?"
Hermione sucked in her lips until they disappeared inside her mouth in an unattractive purse and shrugged her dainty shoulders as she shook her tipsy head, her brown eyes flying to the rafters and her head tilting to the side as she pontificated, "Maybe I am seeing Viktor, and maybe I'm not. I don't actually know where we stand, but I do know that I'm sort of seeing someone else. And I wanted to tell you all before you heard it in the gossip mill," she replied with as much tenacity as she could while slurring the end of her sentence.
Lavender looked incredibly uncomfortable on her squished corner of the loveseat as she wrapped her thin arm around Ron's drooping shoulders, whispering soft words in his ear that Hermione couldn't hear and that she didn't want to know. Ron looked torn between listening to his girlfriend and feeding his curiosity, and eventually he made a decision and sputtered, "Does everyone in this room know who you're seeing except for me? Am I the only one being left out?"
Lavender sighed as she dropped her head to Ron's shoulder in defeat, muttering her quiet breath into the fabric of his shirt, "Does it matter?"
Ron stiffened as he looked down at the top of his girlfriend's frizzy head, sobering as his wide mouth flattened with shame, and glaring back at Hermione's face as she tittered on the armchair.
"It's Malfoy!" Hermione offered with tipsy sympathy, ever the magnanimous hostess, as a fresh burst of giggles erupted from her lips. The warm haze of her buzz made her cheeks tingle and flush as her chest filled with nervous energy at her confession, and her heart thundered against her breast in an erratic pattern. She wound her tangled hair around her fingers as three things happened at once: Ginny squealed into her bony knees, Harry released a dramatic groan into his sweaty hands, and Ron burst into an unexpected peal of laughter that startled Lavender off of his shoulder.
"No, it isn't," Ron rebuked, shaking his head with incredulity at her while she nodded her tipsy chin back at him, his face contorting as he argued and as Lavender petted his knee with a furious motion of fingers, "No, it bloody isn't, Hermione, that's ridiculous!" Ron bellowed, grabbing Lavender's hand in such a snug grip to halt her nervous motions that the pretty witch grimaced and tapped at his arm for relief.
"It's true!" Ginny squealed, popping her head up from her knees and grabbing Harry's thigh in a rough grip in her palm as she stared at her older brother's profile. "Malfoy fancies her!" She argued, downing the rest of her sugary beer as Ron snapped his head back in shock. He shared a bewildered look with Lavender, who shook her mostly sober head in confusion, and then scoffed with disbelief as he cut his irises back to Hermione.
"What the bloody hell are you thinking, Hermione? This is Malfoy!" He barked, looking at her with such horrified indignance that she must have been sprouting arachnids from her wild mane. Hermione lifted her tartan to cover her face in an abrupt flurry of fabric as she considered her careful and tipsy reply.
"Precisely," she began, sputtering as the fuzzy fabric of her blanket sucked into her mouth on her breath, "It's simply a casual arrangement. An experiment of convenience, if you will. I wanted you to hear it from me first, as it could hardly be kept a secret," she replied with a haughty clip through the material, her warm butterscotch breath fanning back against her face.
"I'm going to kill him," Ron announced to the room, and she heard Harry thump his hand into his best friend's chest, his deep voice commanding, "No one is killing anyone!" As he ordered Hermione to remove the blanket from her head.
She pulled the tartan back to her lap with a slow fall of the fabric as she clasped her clumsy hands in a businesslike manner on her aching abdomen, acting as if this was a formal debate and like she was preparing her closing argument against the opposing counsel. Ginny bit her lip as her grin grew wider at the corners, peals of chuckles bursting from her sputtering mouth as her thoughts turned especially sordid. Emboldened by the liquor, the redhead remarked with crude speculation to Hermione, "It must have been really good," with a snicker and a waggle of her brows.
Hermione's hands flew to her lips as she snorted into her fingers at Ginny's forwardness, a small amount of spittle projecting from her mouth and landing on her lap as Ron launched from the couch and marched to the solitary window, his shoulders shaking in rage or upset, she wasn't sure, as he faced away from them. Lavender's lips flattened into a horrible, grim line as she straightened her posture and rose with abrupt force from the loveseat, draining her beer in a dignified gulp that only she could muster as she glared at her boyfriend's backside, slamming her hollow bottle on the wooden end table in a thunk of finality.
"I've had enough!" She announced, marching across the room and avoiding everyone's eyes as she slammed the ancient door with a crack behind her. Ron's shoulders sagged as he clutched the stone ledge of the window with his fingertips, his knuckles blanching with the force of his grip. He sucked in a ragged breath as he turned to follow his girlfriend, pausing as he passed Hermione in the armchair and swallowing as he turned to address her one last time, his broad, freckled cheeks aflame with inebriation and shame.
"This is the stupidest thing that you've ever done, 'Mione," he lectured to her profile, and she recoiled into the cushion of her chair as his words bit at her insecurities, her tingling cheeks stinging with upset emotion as her giggles halted in her throat. "But I'm still your friend," he muttered at last, frowning at her fractured expression, "And I'll always be here for you. But I need space from you right now, and I think that Lavender does, too."
Hermione gave him a stiff nod as he shut the door with a soft crack behind him, her eyes stinging with moisture as she swiped in a haphazard motion at her tear-ducts with the backs of her hands. Harry glared at Ginny and flicked her bare, bony knee with his fingers, his frustration evident in his tone as he admonished her. "That was too much, Ginny," he frowned, folding his arms across his broad chest as Ginny mirrored his sour posture, blowing out her sweet breath and muttering a quiet, "Sorry," to no one in particular.
"Lavender doesn't need space from you, Hermione," Ginny muttered with disdain a moment later, huffing as she frowned into her lap, "She needs space from my idiot brother."
No one objected to Ginny's comment as the three friends lapsed into tipsy, brooding silence, the cauldron hissing in rude reminder at them from the corner of her desk. Hermione stared at her clasped hands on her lap and wished with desperation for a redo of the conversation: without alcohol, without Harry and Ginny's confession, and without Lavender.
"So… did that all go how you imagined?" Harry interrupted in a slow pitch from the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee in the way that Draco usually sat and throwing his heavy arm around Ginny's shoulders as she pouted in her shame. Hermione's tired, glassy gaze met his as she shrugged one shoulder, her mind sobering as reality settled its heavy presence.
"More or less, with an emphasis on not at all how I planned," she huffed, bringing her trousered knees up to her chest and hugging her arms in a snug grip around her limbs. She leaned her forehead on her knobby knees as Harry sighed, standing with a sway and wobbling as he came to stand at her side, patting her shoulder in an awkward, unfamiliar gesture as he attempted to soothe her discomfort, "There, there, Hermione…," he murmured in his tired, soothing cadence, "It's going to be alright."
Hermione laughed into her knees as fresh tears stung at her eyes, and she held Harry's hand in a vice against her shoulder as she turned her wet eyes to his drooping, gentle green ones, giving him her watery smile as his lips tugged at the corners in response. She felt warm with love, liquor, and guilt as she whispered, "You're a good friend, Harry Potter."
He sighed as he held her dainty fingers in his warm palm, his skin flushed and sweaty from alcohol and excitement, and he balanced on the arm of her chair as he watched Ginny pout on the couch.
"It's my weakness," he admitted, shaking his unruly black hair as he pursed his lips in thought.
"No," Hermione corrected, leaning her head against his arm and closing her eyes, "It's your strength."