The Young and the Magical
By PepsiAngel
Author's Note: This ficca was giving me trouble, weren't you darling? *pats it* However, with a few compliments from my dear friend Nita and an array of songs from Chicago, I was able to beat the dreaded writer's block. I realize witches and wizards cannot get drunk from butterbeer, but could you all play along. For my sake?
Dedication: This is for the fabulous Twixxa, who deserves a much better gift than this but what can I say, I'm cheap. Happy birthday, doll.
Chapter 3: Drown your Sorrows in a Sea of Butterbeer
Hermione gaped at Ron in a horrified stupor while he stared back at her, his gaze was one laced with uncertainty and hopefulness.
Draco, fiddling with his white-blonde locks, just looked bored.
A million thoughts ran through Hermione's nearly empty head. She didn't want to break her friend's heart but one look at Draco told her all she needed to know. Even with a dumb, lost look on his face he still made her heart skip a beat.
But Ron's good looking too, in an unconventional sort of way, a voice in her head said.
Another voice snorted rudely.
Hey, I said unconventional! the first voice shot back defensively.
Nah, he's just ugly, the snide voice replied.
"He is not!" Hermione found herself exclaiming aloud.
Ron was visibly taken aback and his ears were quickly turning a shade of red that wasn't at all becoming on him.
He managed to stutter out, "No, I am! Honest."
Hermione looked confused momentarily before saying offhandedly, "Oh, that's not what I meant. The voices in my head were fighting again."
Draco and Ron exchanged a look that clearly questioned whether the girl they were both smitten with was entirely right in the head.
Draco began talking to her in a quit, trying-to-be-calm voice and backed away slowly. "Okay, Hermi, I'm going to leave now. I'll let you think about what Ron said tonight. Though, really, I think you're choice is obvious."
Ron elected to ignore the blatant insult and annoyingly smug smirk on his enemy's flawless mug and instead addressed a much more pressing issue.
"Hermi? What kind of nickname is that?" He chuckled to himself.
Draco gave the redhead a withering glare and informed him coldly, "I assure you she finds it very charming."
"Do you," Ron asked incredulously.
Hermione nodded apologetically. "It's oddly appealing."
He appeared disgusted at this news but Draco smiled confidently and sauntered away after throwing a wink at the now thoroughly confused Hermione.
"Well, I guess it's up to you to decide now. Personally, I recommend myself, but it's your decision."
He waited for her to laugh and Hermione forced a smiled, which seemed to satisfy him. There was an awkward pause. "So, I'll let you get back to Hogwarts, you've probably got a lot on your mind."
Hermione waved distractedly as Ron headed for the school. He expected her to come along, she knew, but the brunette had other plans and turned back towards the Three Broomsticks.
* * *
Madam Rosmerta smiled politely. But, clearly remembering her from mere minutes ago, her eyes held plenty of curiosity as she asked, "What can I get you?"
"Give me the strongest thing you've got," ordered Hermione.
The older woman just laughed. "Darlin', do you really think I'm going to give liquor to an underaged witch?"
"Fine, I didn't want to resort to this but it looks as if I'll have to," sighed Hermione resentfully. Rosmerta watched skeptically as she pulled something from inside her bra.
"Ew, now way am I touching that!" Madam Rosmerta interrupted in revulsion.
Hermione silenced her with an icy scowl. "What if I told you it was a lovely sickle?"
She tried to push the money into the bartender's hand but was fruitless in her efforts. "For a sickle? Yeah, right."
"Butterbeer, then," grumbled a disappointed Hermione. It would take several of these things to successfully make her decision an easy one but as long as it helped, she had no complaints.
* * *
Parvati Patil was supposed to have a date tonight (she wasn't one of those losers who sat around on Saturday nights, unlike the author of this story) but her boyfriend had cancelled on her at the last minute.
Oh well, he'd pay for his inconvenient illness, you can be sure of that.
For, Parvati Patil was a bit. . .malicious and was well known for getting even with anyone who wronged her. Just ask the first- and last- girl who dared to wear the same outfit as her. Oh, how that little twit was regretting it now.
But that's another story, for another time. Right now there was only one person who posed a threat to Parvati: Hermione Granger. She had always been the prettiest girl at Hogwarts until her plain roommate underwent her amazing transformation into a goddess-like beauty.
As soon as she entered the Three Broomsticks she spotted her new nemesis, or rather she noticed all the empty bottle piling up around her enemy.
"Hello, Hermione," she greeted her silkily as she glided over to the table.
Hermione giggled loudly as Parvati slid into the chair across from her. "Hiya! What are you doin' here?"
Her words were severely slurred and she let out a loud belch. The raven haired girl smiled broadly as her guess was confirmed.
Hermione was drunk.
A/N 2: This is shorter than I wanted it to be, I swear. Cordelia is a dreadfully evil muse though. More will come soon, to make up for this chapter's length.
