Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Chaser.

I couldn't resist writing this, I'm not sure if I'll write from Ron and Hermione's perspective again, but I couldn't help myself and besides, its my story.

Out -take of chapters 3&4!

The Monday night drinking club had begun when Ron and Hermione first had a competion to see who could drink the most about a year ago. It was a way to make getting up Monday morning worth it. However it also made Tuesday morning hell.

Usually they woke up, and Hermione had some pepper-up potion on hand to ease their hangovers somewhat, (nothing really made it go away, expect for some American Muggle stuff called Chaser, but Ron didn't trust anything Muggle.) The only draw-back to pepper-up potion was that you steamed in the ears for several hours afterward, for Ron this was a draw-back. It gave the impression that his entire head was on fire. This wasn't a cool thing, no matter how much it made Hermione laugh.

Last night had been particularly, um, drunk. After the duo had gotten off work, they offered Ginny and Harry to go out with them, Hermione still hadn't given up on those two getting together. Ron knew better, his little sister had better taste in men. Even if she went out with absolute losers, in Rons opinion. Hermione had said to him, "Ron, in your opinion, Jesus Christ himself wouldn't be good enough for you sister!"

Well Ron had no argument for that, come on, the man is dead, and Ginny is young, she can't wait around until he returns.

Last night they got off work around five o'clock. They had gone out to dinner, because it's Hermione and Ron's rule not to drink on an empty stomache. They hadn't even argued once. Somehow they had been getting along very well since graduation. Ron realized it was because they had wound up spending a lot of time together. He knew that Hermione couldn't look stupid or vulnerable in front of people, she just couldn't handle it. He supposed that after a while, you get to know some-one. She knew what made him tick and vice versa.

So they were at the restaurant. They ordered their usual. Hermione and Ron rarely varied what they ate on Monday nights, they knew what made the drinking better.

They had a hard time convincing Mrs. Weasley that they weren't becoming alcoholics. To be an alcoholic, you must use alcohol as a crutch, they used it as an excuse to get along in public. Call that what you want, they didn't care.

Hermione looked across the table at Ron. He was a good looking man. He had finally grown into his ears around 5th year. And then finally come to his senses around the end of sixth year. Then he finally got the courage to tell Harry and him and Hermione about a month after that. He was a good looking man she thought to herself, the best part about it was that he wasn't the least bit aware of it. There will always be something about a man who can charm you with a smile, make you laugh with a joke, and never even realize that it wasn't needed, you'd stay with him if he was a death mute. But the personality mattered to Hermione, and she loved it.

She herself wasn't bad looking, Ron told her hourly she was a goddess. Harry even admitted it a few times. If she actually put some effort into her looks she could be a model. But that wasn't Hermione. That's what Ron loved about her, you never had to worry about what she was wearing, she looked good, but she wouldn't embarrass you with something too showy or nerdy. You also always knew where you stood with her, if you paid attention. She showed her emotions in small ways, like a hug here, a touch there, and laugh or a wink. She was only overly expressive when he wished she wouldn't be, when she was angry. When she was angry, it used to scare him, now it only made him all the more in love with her. The only time she wasn't a loaded time bomb was when she had had a couple of drinks and could finally relax and say to hell with it all.

After there food was eaten, and the check had come, and they had argued on whether Hermione would let Ron pay or not they were off to the races, well sort of.

They went to the new trendy bar, which changed every week and always had a name like polka DOT or Seven to Heaven, the one you couldn't get drunk it because it would become a write-up in witch weekly. Admittedly Monday night wasn't a huge night for the London nightlife, but there was always that community of heirs and heiresses, actors, and wannabes that faked it until they made it that were always up for a good time. Some how after the war, the trio had found a new since of celebrity that Harry denied, Hermione ignored, and Ron basked in until the other two had savagely verbally assaulted him. There they drank the trendy drinks, danced trendy dances, and generally socialized with what would have been called in school, the incrowd.

The second bar they hopped over to was an old standard, where they allowed themselves to get buzzed at. Drunk enough to have fun, but still be in control. This was their old standard, the Hogshead, the place they all would go after classes in seventh year. Dumbledores brother, Aberforth ran it. It wasn't trendy, it wasn't hip-happening. But it was tradition. The only reason they didn't get drunk there was because, 1 Dumbledore would find out, they still looked upon him as a favorite uncle you don't want to scold you and 2 they still had to apparate back to London, which you did not want to be drunk doing this dangerous thing. They rarely would stop over to Madame Rosemerta's, The Three Broomsticks, because they ran into a lot of upper ministry officials, and old teachers, which they would rather leave those people with favorable impressions of them, not the crazy, in love, loud drunks they became.

Lastly, they finished it off publicly at the Leaky Cauldron. Here, they were graunteed enough privacy not to be embarrassed, but public enough so that 1 you didn't feel guilty like you were hiding something, and 2 you still made the pages of Witch Weekly's society pages. Ron and Hermione weren't into the "celebrity image", but it went with the job, being Harry's friends, and being a wild couple, even if it was just once a week.

Here at the Leaky Cauldron, old Tom, who had taken to them like a favorite Nephew and his wife (even though they were no where near getting married, at least in one of their books)and loved talking to them late at night when they were drunk. Because they could be rather funny reminiscing about things that Tom had only heard rumors about that had happened at Hogwarts, thing that where the Truth was more unbelievable than anything.

After leaving Tom's, it was a short Taxi ride over to their rented flat on top of Harry's house, and they were home free to cut loose. They drank, and then laughed, and then kissed, and somehow everything always lead to getting it on. Which neither minded, even though Ron was sure Harry could hear and was always embarrassed to see him the next morning.

The only reason they stayed there was because Hermione refused to leave Harry alone "in that huge house." He refused to sell it and insisted on working on "fixing it up" almost every Sunday after noon, because he rarely drank on those days, except for wine with the Weasley's Weekly Supper.

Ron and Hermione had passed out around four and hadn't woken up until 7. There was no way the would be any where near presentable in time to make it to work on time.

"Hermione, why did you let me drink so much!?!," Ron bellowed out of the shower as she fixed her hair.

"What're you complaining about, I'm still buzzing, I won't even be sick until this after noon."

" Oh shut it, you know perfectly well that you take the stupid Muggle medicine, and just get hyper in the mornings."

They bickered the entire way into the office, if they hadn't been, perhaps they would have been more observant.

" What the fuck?" Ron muttered as he stepped into the office. Completely covered in teddy bears.

"Really Ron, this pranking with Harry has gone way way to far. Go to him now and apologize and draw a truce. It's the only way Ginny or I will have any peace." She said this as