A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters!!! This is the last chapter, folks. There will be a chapter long Epilogue after this, though. And in reply to some of the reviews I've gotten, I do agree that some of my characters should be a bit more developed; however, I have two reasons for this. One, the fic is supposed to be just about Hermione and her struggle to become beautiful (outside and in). Second, I am trying to finish this fic before Thursday of this week because I have to go on vacation, and then on Monday, I begin my Thermodynamics class, which is going to replace my writing time with homework. I wish I could develop Ginny and Harry's relationship more within this story, but I just don't have time. Maybe at another time, I'll get the chance.
"Granger is our Queen, She beat Pansy Parkinson, so that's why Gryffindors sing, Granger is our Queen!" Hermione heard her housemates singing in the common room. She was attempting to change into muggle clothes without taking off her tiara. "Okay, don't move now. Let me pull your sweater down," Ginny said, standing on Hermione's bed. Hermione was wearing a blue sweater that her mother had recently sent to her and a pair of her favorite jeans. Ginny had borrowed Hermione's FDNY sweatshirt that she had gotten while on holiday to the States, and the girls were dressing quickly. Hermione looked at Ginny, both of them feeling awkward about being with Parvati and Lavender, who were on Parvati's bed crying. "If it couldn't be one of us, we're glad it was you, Hermione. But that stupid hag beat us! And Susan Bones?!" Lavender wailed. "I hope you guys will come to the party," Hermione said as she and Ginny slinked to the door. Parvati blew her nose loudly as Ginny snapped the door shut. "Wow, a bit too serious about themselves, aren't they?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as they walked down the stairs.
The whole common room burst into cheers as Hermione emerged at the bottom of the stairs. "Granger is our Queen" was sung several more times as Hermione was hoisted onto the shoulders of the Weasley twins. "Put me down!" she squealed, laughing hysterically. They carried her all the way out of the common room and to the Great Hall before setting her down. Hermione spotted Ron and reached out to grab him, but she was whisked away by the twins before she could catch his hand. "Sorry," she mouthed to him, being pushed along by the twins. "We're your dates for tonight," Fred said, leading her out onto the dance floor that had been created in the Great Hall. "You deserve to have loads of fun tonight, something our dear brother can't provide for you," George continued, on Hermione's other arm. Hermione opened her mouth to object but Fred said, "I think some punch is in order, don't you agree, Forge?" George nodded and was gone in a flash. Music was blaring as more and more people filtered into the Great Hall for the party, and Fred was swinging Hermione around in a fashion that she wouldn't exactly call dancing. George was back as quickly as he had left, and he was carrying three cups of pinkish punch. "Drink up!" he said, handing Hermione her cup. She was parched; she hadn't had a drink since she had leaned over the sink for some water after throwing up. Slamming the cup back, Hermione felt a faint burning sensation as the liquid slipped down her throat. Fred and George shared a look as Hermione finished the drink in one gulp. Since it only takes 13 seconds to hit your brain, Hermione was already feeling the affects of the alcohol that George had added to her punch. Her inexperience with alcohol coupled with an empty stomach made a dangerous combination, and in a matter of minutes, Hermione had a major buzz.
George got her another drink as she danced with Fred, all the while looking around for Ron. "Everyone looks kind of swirly," she commented, moving to the music. George arrived with her second drink, which she also slammed, not having quenched her thirst with the last one. As soon as the drink was down her throat, a light went on in her head. Echoing in her mind, she heard Parvati say, "Someone always spikes the punch." 'Oh no, I'm going to be drunk!' was her last coherent thought before the alcohol took over. She giggled, handing the empty cup to George. "All your base are belong to us!" she said, laughing so hard she snorted. Fred looked at George questioningly but George shrugged his shoulders, walking off to get more punch. (A/N: Google it.)
"What are you guys doing to her? It looks like there's something wrong with her," Ginny whispered viciously to George when he reached the punch bowl. "Nothing. She's thirsty," George said, laughing. "George Weasley, if you did what I think you did, you are going to be dead," Ginny said, stomping off to find Ron. "And you'll do what, a bat-bogey hex?" George taunted. Ginny turned around angrily and said, "No. Tell Mum."
Ron had his back to the dance floor. He didn't want to see Hermione dancing with his brothers when he knew that they didn't care about her like he did. He had spent an hour trying not to look at them, and it was becoming hard to tolerate. Harry was talking with Dean while Ron stood stoically, drinking the punch that was obviously spiked. Living with Fred and George, he had been intoxicated loads of times, so one cup wasn't going to affect him. He heard footsteps and turned to his right, seeing Ginny stomping up to them. "I'm going to kill them!" she screamed. The conversation stopped and everyone stared at her. She pointed out onto the dance floor and everyone's eyes followed her finger to the spot where Hermione was falling over drunk on the dance floor with Fred and George. "I'll kill them," Ron said, slamming his cup down on a table and storming onto the dance floor. The majority of the crowd was oblivious, dancing to the loud music blaring from the speaker boxes that were not connected to any sort of a stereo.
Harry and Ginny scurried after Ron as he walked straight to the twins. Cursing, Ron angrily yelled, "What do you think you're doing?! She'd die if she knew what you did to her!" Fred shrugged and said, "She's the one who drank it." Ron grabbed Hermione's arm, causing her to notice him for the first time. "Ron!" she gasped happily, "I'm so glad to see you!" She draped her arms around him, shifting her weight for him to bear. Ron grunted, adjusting to the unexpected load, and said, "Are you okay?" Harry and Ginny helped Ron carry her away inconspicuously as she said in a loud whisper, "I think someone piked the spunch!" Ginny tried not to laugh since Ron looked ready to kill, but she patted Hermione on the arm and said, "Someone did!" "What if I get drunk?" Hermione asked wide eyed, looking at Ginny. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Ginny said, "I think you already are!" Hermione gasped dramatically as most drunks do, and said, "Oh no!"
"What are we going to do with her? She can't be alone," Ginny said as they carried her up the stairs and into the common room. "I'm taking her to my room," Ron said, coaxing Hermione along, who was now talking about Pansy Parkinson. "Ginny, I don't know why Pansy Puke-in-son beat you. She's so ugly…" Hermione trailed off as Ron opened the door to his room. "Ahh, Ronnie's room," she said, going straight for the bed. "Ginny, can you get that tiara off and maybe help her into some pajamas?" Ron said, noticeably stressed. "Sure," Ginny said, patting his arm as he and Harry walked back out into the stairwell. "Come on, Hermione," they heard Ginny say, followed by giggles from Hermione. Harry looked at Ron meaningfully as Ron tried to avoid his gaze. "Ron, you're in love with her. You're positively in love with her!" Harry whispered, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. "So?" Ron whispered fiercely, looking up into Harry's green eyes. "So tell her. When she's sober," Harry said as Ginny walked out, smiling. "Have fun keeping track of her tonight, bro. She's totally smashed," she said, taking Harry's arm and leading him off. "Hey, where are you two going?" he called. Ginny waved, antagonizing him, and said, "Out!"
Ron opened his door to find Hermione lying on his bed, curled up in the blankets. "Coloportus," he whispered, sealing the door. He changed in the bathroom, hoping that she would be asleep by the time he made it back into the room. Climbing into bed slowly, Ron tried not to rouse her if she was nearly asleep. He slid under the covers, not entirely sure how he was going to manage to sleep at all. "Mmm, Ron," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around him and sliding one hand up the back of his shirt. Ron froze. His eyes were wide as he looked down at her, seeing only a mess of hair since her face was buried into his chest. "Hermione?" he whispered, but heard only snoring. He relaxed, draping an arm around her waist and sliding the other one under the pillow that she was now sharing with him. 'This isn't so bad after all,' Ron said, pulling Hermione a little closer to him.
After managing to fall asleep a few hours after getting into bed, Ron was awoken by a groan as Hangover Hermione decided to emerge. "Ron, I think I'm going to throw up," she moaned, trying to sit up. Immediately, Ron leaped into action, sliding out of bed to help her up. "Nice and slow… we'll make it there. The bathroom is just right across the room here," he said, taking her arm to help steady her. Getting her out of bed was easy compared to getting her walking. She moaned as they slowly walked across the room, "Ron, I'm dying," she groaned. "Shhh, someone might think we're, well, you know…" he said, opening the bathroom door. As soon as she spotted the toilet, she was on the floor, hugging the bowl. "Ron, go away. I don't want you to see me puke," she moaned, trying to pull her hair out of her face. "No, you might pass out and hit your head on the stall, so I need to stay with you," he said, straddling her feet to hold her hair back as her face turned another shade of green just before she projectile vomited a large amount of pink liquid. She moaned, her shoulders shaking as she started to cry. "I'm dying, Ron," she bawled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You alright, or are you going to go again?" Ron asked softly, amazed that her vomit did not make him vomit as well. She leaned over the toilet, assessing the situation for a moment before speaking. "I'm okay, I think. I actually feel loads better, but I still feel like my head was stomped on by a hippogriff," she croaked, slowly sitting up. "Want to go back to the bed?" Ron asked, helping her to her feet. "Yeah, but I want some water," she said, wiping her mouth again.
After helping her back to bed, Ron poured a small amount of water in a glass for her, handing it to her and saying, "Small sips." Her eyes followed him above the rim of the glass as he walked to the other side of the bed to climb back in. "Ron," she said, placing the glass on his bedside table, "I'm really sorry about the party. I tried to get away from them, but they kept dragging me off, and before I knew it, I was drunk." Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him pitifully, the covers up around her as she shivered. Ron sighed, scooting closer to her under the covers. "It's not your fault, Hermione," he whispered, gently touching her aching head. She continued to cry and Ron said, "Hermione, you have to stop or you're going to make yourself sick again." He placed his hand on her cheek to wipe away some of the tears that had fallen from her eyes but had not yet reached the pillows. She smiled, sniffling, and looked at him. "I can't believe you kissed my neck," she whispered, a giggle threatening to slip out. Ron's ears turned a little red, but he smiled, "Sorry, like I said, those robes… you were just so irresistible." She laughed quietly and said, "I'm a little bit easier to resist right now though, I'm sure." Seeing this as his big opportunity, Ron said, "No, I find you irresistible a vast majority of the time." Her amused smile softened as she looked at him. "Then why am I not your girlfriend?" she whispered. Ron paused for a second before saying, "You know, that's a good question. Do you want to be?" Instantly insecure, Hermione said, "Do you want me to be?" Ron chuckled, "You know, I'll never understand women. I've been trying to show you how much I like you for several months now, and you can't seem to believe that I actually like you. You'd think that winning a beauty pageant would give a girl a little more self esteem, but it doesn't look like it."
Hermione frowned for a moment, still a little slow on the uptake. "Hermione, I want you to be my girlfriend more than anything," Ron sighed, exasperated at her sudden lack of brain cells. She stared at him, a look of amazement in her eyes. "So much so, in fact, that I could kiss you right now, knowing that you just threw up five minutes ago, and not be bothered by it," Ron continued. Hermione sat up, placing her hands on her hips and sternly said, "First off, Ronald Weasley, of course I'll be your girlfriend. Second, you would only kiss me now because you know it was just liquid vomit and I've had a drink of water since then." Ron opened his mouth to protest her second comment and then stopped. "Did you just say that you'd be my girlfriend?" he asked, looking at her suspiciously. "Of course I did," she said, her face dissolving into a smile. They looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes until Ron lay back down, motioning for Hermione to come with him. As she lay in his arms for the second time of the night, Hermione couldn't help but think how spectacularly the night had gone. Looking down at herself, she noticed that the shirt she was wearing did not belong to her, and the pair of shorts she was wearing had little golden snitches all over them. "Are these your clothes? How did I get in them?" she said, a bit confused. Ron laughed, looking down at her clothes also. "Well, the shirt is mine. Those shorts actually belong to Harry. Last year, we were into playing pranks on each other in the locker room, so after practice one night, I hid his boxers in my bag, and I've had them since. Occasionally he says something about how he wishes he still had them," Ron explained, laughing hysterically by the end of the story.
Hermione woke up in the morning with a pounding headache, but seeing Ron lying next to her made the hangover worth all the trouble. "Good morning," he whispered to her when she rolled over to face him. "Hi," she said, holding her throbbing head. "Head still hurt?" he said, gently stroking her hair. "Yeah, and my mouth feels like I ate a pillow," she said, rolling over to grab her glass of water. Ron glanced at the clock. It was nearly lunch time, so he said, "Let's get dressed and we'll head down to lunch. You really need to try to eat something since you didn't the whole day yesterday." "Okay," Hermione groaned, "I don't want to leave this bed and go out into the real world." Kissing her on the forehead before sliding out of bed, Ron said, "I know, me either. But at least we have each other now, which is more than we had yesterday."
The disheveled pair walked out of Ron's room and immediately ran into Harry and Ginny, who looked equally disheveled. "Where have you two been?" Ron and Harry both said, accusingly. "None of your business," Ginny and Hermione said, giggling. "You know, it's best that I not know," Ron said, waving them off as he put his arm around Hermione and continued on to the Great Hall. Glancing at Ron out of the corner of her eye, Hermione looked at Ginny and mischievously said, "So Ginny, did you find out why they really call it the Shrieking Shack?" Ginny laughed out loud and Ron gagged. "Hermione, are you going to hold my hair back when I vomit right here in the hallway?" he said, a look of disgust on his face. "Oh, like you're so innocent!" Harry retorted, pulling open the door to the Great Hall. "What? Nothing happened!" Hermione said, her eyes wide. "Lairs! We heard you moaning!" Ginny whispered shrilly. "I told you!" Ron said, looking at Hermione. This, of course, gave everyone the wrong idea.
The End! Epilogue to come!