A/N: I don't own Hermione, or Ron, or any other characters.
Hermione groaned. Everything ached. She sat up slowly, her spinning. She reached over and knocked a handful of stuff off her nightstand. How much had she had to drink last night? She knew the answer...too much. Ron was still asleep next to her. She could hear his snoring. He sounded like a damn chainsaw. She pulled back the blankets and froze.
She didn't remember doing that last night, Merlin how drunk had she been? No wonder she ached. She managed to find her wand and summon a glass of water. Gulping it down didn't help as much as she'd hoped. She set the empty glass on the nightstand and climbed out of bed. Her clothes from last night were on the floor. She picked them up, noticing a few scratches on her legs. A sick feeling started growing in her stomach. Pushing past it she forced herself to think about last night.
She remembered leaving with Ron, he'd wanted her wearing the red dress. It was his favorite, it was also the most low cut of her wardrobe. They'd gone...where had they gone? Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten this drunk. She leaned against the wall of the shower turning the water on with a loud 'hsss'.
The cold water started clearing her head a bit. The name of the place had started with 'P'. That much she remembered. They'd gone to dinner, had some wine. Ron had ordered something outrageously expensive, joking about how if he made the team, they'd never have to worry about money again. She hated how he always brought up money, like it was some defining characteristic about a person. Malfoy had had money, before the war, and he'd been a right git.
She shook her head, why the bloody hell was she thinking about Malfoy? After dinner, Ron had taken her to a bar, she couldn't remember which one, they all looked the same she'd noticed. He'd ordered drink after drink. She frowned. She really only remembered ordering one.
She finished her shower, stepped out and grabbed her towel. She could hear Ron stirring in their bedroom. She wondered if he was as hung over as she had been? She slipped on her bathrobe and walked back into the room. Ron was up, grumbling about something.
"Morning," she chirped sounding a lot more awake and perky than she actually felt. He glared at her.
"Well, it is," she stated.
"Bossy know it all," Ron grumbled. Hermione just ignored him and got dressed.
"Hopefully you'll hear back from the team today about the position."
"Do we have any hang over potion?"
"Bathroom, under the sink. Green bottle," she answered looking for her white socks. She'd found one and was pretty sure Crookshanks had stolen the other one.
"Can you grab it for me?"
"Why? You're going in there to pee anyway." She found the sock under the bed along with several others. Ron grumbled stomping to the bathroom.
"You left the towel wet again!"
"I took a shower. Excuse me if I forget to magically dry the towel after use. I wasn't raised that way." Hermione sighed pulling open the curtains to allow the morning sunlight to fill the room. She blinked how bright it was, feeling the warm of the sun wash over her through the glass.
"I'm going to head to work early today, Hermione. Owl me immediately if you hear anything about the team, got it?" Ron was back, she could hear him getting dressed. She touched her fingers to the glass of the window. Despite the bright light flooding the room, the glass itself was cold.
"Of course," she answered facing him a smile on her face. She hoped he would hear back soon, it was what he really wanted after all. How couldn't she be happy he might get the chance to follow his dreams.
"Do you have any plans for today 'Mione?"
"No, not really." Ron had crossed the room and glanced out the window.
"What's this?" he asked picking up the book and flipping through it. "Depression? Seriously, 'Mione, all that head stuff is completely made up." She grabbed the book from his hands, her face flushing. She'd known he wouldn't understand, but have him openly state when she was feeling didn't exist...
"It is not," she stated, sliding the card from the book into her pocket. She wasn't about to let him find that too. He'd really mock her then.
"Hermione, I'm not going to argue with you, if you're sad, use a cheering charm. You know how to do them," he stated. "So, what's for breakfast?"
"Toast," she answered fighting back tears as she headed towards the kitchen. Ron followed her.
"What is wrong with you today? Seriously, you were much more fun last night."
"I was drunk last night, apparently. I don't even remember drinking that much," she snapped back.