Disclaimer: Oh for the love of – I OWN NOTHING! I OWN diddly-squat! If I have to say it one more time . . .
Says the drama queen. Anyway, let's get on with it!
OoOoO
Chapter Five
"Well, this is interesting," Mrs. Weasley said finally.
"What is it?" I asked, leaning forwards on the bed, no longer concerned about my exposed backside. "What happened?"
Mrs. Weasley had done several revealing charms to find that the card's sender was a boy named David Gleans, who apparently wasn't too concerned about being found out. The only thing covering his tracks was a simple Confidentiality Charm, with a bit of reinforcement from a weak Confundus spell. I suspected that this was because he had thought that I wouldn't have access to any revealing charms over the holidays.
Mrs. Weasley continued to study the shimmer that had appeared on the card. "Have you heard of a Corality Revelation?" she asked me.
I scanned my memory quickly. "It shows the moral intent behind most spells or charms from a known source," I said in a monotone, quoting my fourth year charms book. "Why?"
Lips pursed, Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand once more and tapped the card. "Corilio," she murmured softly. The card's shimmer became brighter, mostly silver with a hint of gold here and there.
"Wait," I said, remembering the Revelation's effects, "Doesn't silver mean 'evil intent'?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "I'm afraid so, dear. You're in more trouble, that's certain. Do you see the gold? Here?" she pointed at the center of the card. I nodded. "That is residue from a deception charm, made to cover true intent with purely good vibrations," she explained.
"So whoever sent it is actually trying to do something that they shouldn't," I guessed. "And they tried to cover themselves."
"Well, then, we just have to find who that is, don't we?" Mrs. Weasley rolled up her sleeves and began poking the card with her wand, muttering incantations so quickly that I couldn't pick out where one ended and the next began. Slowly, the gold shimmer began to disappear except for a few specks here and there, revealing layers and layers of silver. It occured to me after about the fifth layer of silver had been vanished that Mrs. Weasley was an unusually talented, intelligent witch. Only she had been so occupied with her family and domestic chores that I never noticed, in the five years that I had known her.
"Incataro Ideni," she finished, casting another charm to reveal the sender's name. Satisfied, she put her wand back in her pocket and sat up straighter to watch. Tendrils of smoke curled up off of the paper, not burning it, but seeming to form words.
"We need to get the headmaster," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes wide. I nodded dumbly as she scurried from the room, presumably to find a fireplace.
I just stared at the letters hovering in the air, hoping that they would change. But they didn't.
There it was. Clear as day. Draco Malfoy.
OoOoO
"Hey, you. Hermione, right?" the black boy asked.
I nodded. "And you're Benji," I stated. He smiled.
"Oi! 'Ay, I 'eard about you!" said a girl with red hair and a thick Northern accent (stronger because of her apparent drunkenness). "You 'ad to go to the 'ospital, righ'? Alcohol poisoning!" She crossed her eyes trying to concentrate on the last bit. "You're absolutely nutters! My name's Mary!" She dove into me for a hug.
"Hello, er– Mary, thank you," I said, confused but hugging her back. "Mary?" I shook her. "Mary, you can – Mary, geroff," the girl made no response, but slid down to the carpeted floor.
"Oh," I said. Bending over to poke her, I concluded that she was completely out. Gods, wait until eleven o'clock! I admonished silently. I pulled at her shoulder so that the girl wouldn't wake up face down in a pool of her own vomit and snatched the bottle out of her hand.
Hm. Smirnoff. I sniffed the top and looked around me. Nobody was in the room except for a bloke nursing a beer while watching a home video, and of course Mary, who was on the floor. Everyone else was in a room down the hallway, playing Pong or dancing.
"Oi, you –," I yelled at the boy watching TV. He shook his head and looked at me. "Watch her, will you?" He grunted and looked back at the TV, which I took as a 'yes.'
"Okay," I muttered to myself, studying the bottle. I took an experimental sip. Yep, tastes fine. I took two gulps, coughed, pulled myself together, and made my way down the hallway.
"Seventeen tracks and and I've had it with this ga-a-a-ame!" Someone was singing along, quite loudly, with the music. They were so off-tune, though, that it was hard to concentrate on the words. A roar of laughter came next, along with a chant of, "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
Two small girls with dark hair walked past me, one dragging the other over to a nearby foldout table.
"What's this game called?" one asked, slurring slightly.
"I don't know, but it looks fun! Come on!" she pulled the other girl harder, causing them both to lose balance and fall over into a couple making out by the couch. Rather than apologizing, the dark-haired girls simply laughed, gave the boy a kiss on the cheek, and stumbled towards where the crowd was playing Pong. Finally, a decent party, I thought.
Pong is actually a nice game. Two teams, on either end of a ping-pong table or foldout table, throw ping-pong balls at plastic cups full of alcohol, usually beer. If the ball makes it in, then the opposite team has to drink the whole cupful. The loser is the one whose cups are gone first, or whoever gets too smashed to finish the game. Like I said, a lovely game.
I ambled up to the foldout table just as some boy named Stephen, who had light brown hair and looked about nineteen, was aiming his last shot.
"Go Steve!" Benji yelled from another place in the crowd.
"Come on, Steve!" someone else called out.
Stephen gave the crowd a lopsided grin and focused once again on the ball, waving back and forth like a reed on a breezy day. Biting his bottom lip, he tossed the ball, which landed with a satisfying plink! into the remaining cup.
"OI!" he yelled, fists raised triumphantly in the air. His opponent drank the final cup and stumbled away from the table, apparantly just as happy that he had lost.
"WHO'S NEXT?" Stephen challenged loudly.
"HERMIONE!" Benji yelled in reply.
"Wha?"
But it was too late. The now familiar bottle of Smirnoff was rescued from my grip as the crowd shunted me down to the opposite end of the table.
"Watch out for that one, mate, she's wild!" someone yelled from the back. I smiled at the general direction the noise was coming from.
"Are you ready?" Stephen asked once the cups had all been replaced and filled. Oh what the hell.
"Whenever you are," I said with a smirk.
"Ladies first!"
It was an evenly matched game. We were tied all throughout, me making a shot and them him doing the same every time. The voices around us got louder, encouraging me and needling Steve for being even with a girl.
"Hey, I told you she was a fiesty one, didn't I, mates?" Benji yelled, to the delight of the crowd. I gulped the rest of the beer and smiled at him. The room was bending in my vision, looking like a seascape and high definition television at the same time. Both Steve and I had only one cup left. One left out of twelve.
First I had to chase after the ball, which was actually pretty difficult, considering how the floor bent sideways with every step I took. Then I had to hold onto the ball and aim. It seemed like the thing was literally dodging my hand! I finally caught it and chucked the ball over in the area of Steve's cup.
I could have died of surprise when I heard the ball go in.
"WOOO-HOOO!" I yelled, grinning like an idiot. Steve seemed to be attempting his last shot.
"WAY TO GO, GRANGER!" somebody yelled.
Steve coughed, his ball missing my remaining cup by inches.
"GRANGER! HERMIONE GRANGER!"
"Yep! And I just won! La-la-la–,"I started to do my victory dance. Then I realized that no one here was supposed to know my surname.
The world snapped into focus for a half-second. I got tunnel vision and the crowd parted to let one person through. The person who, apparently, had recognized me.
"Hey, Hermione," he said, coming closer, apparently trying to help me stay standing. I studied his features, too drunk to recognize anyone at the moment. Sandy blond hair, blue eyes, medium build . . .
"Seamus?" I asked in wonder.
He smiled at me. "Yeah, it's me. Are you alright? You were amazing!"
"Bloody brilliant, Hermione! You beat him into the ground!" one of the girls with dark hair said, slamming her fist down on the table and giggling. This started a whole chorus of cheers, and I felt myself being lifted up into the air and pushed into another room.
It was the music room, I recognized, a techno song playing loudly on a set of rather impressive speakers in the corner. I started dancing, not caring about anything else. Why was I angry? I couldn't remember! This seemed incredibly hilarious, and I started dancing faster.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
I could practically feel the bass reverberating through my abdomen. My fingers and toes were numb, but I kept dancing.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
I spotted that kid again. What was his name? Oh, yeah! "SEAMUS!"
"I'm right here, Hermione! Calm down!" But he laughed all the same and started dancing again.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
"Seamus Fin-Finin– Finininigan!" I proclaimed.
"Finnigan!" he yelled back.
"Whatever!"
Seamus laughed and put his hands on my shoulders, trying to steady me.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
"Come on, Seamus, dance!" I ordered him, jumping up and down. I shook my head side to side.
"Hermione!"
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
"Hermione, are you alright?"
I stopped shaking my head and tried to glare at him. He put his hands on my shoulders again. I put my hands on his.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
He's so nice. I should thank him, I thought, smiling. So I did.
In the form of a snogging session.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
He always was a nice bloke! I thought, kissing Seamus fiercely. I kept my eyes open for long enough to see his widen in heart-stopping shock before pulling back.
And I started dancing again.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
The lights were off, my head was spinning, I shook it from side to side in time with the music.
The kid – Seamus, right? – was standing there, staring at me, his finger touching his bottom lip, eyes still wide in surprise. He slowly grinned at me.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
"I can't wait to tell the guys in Gryffindor," he said, watching me dance and starting to move in time himself.
"What?" I asked, not really caring. Seamus didn't answer, and was dancing fully next to me.
-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-
I shook my head, moving frantically. School starts in two days. And I kept dancing. Drunk out of my mind, sipping from a bottle that had materialized in my hand, sloshing alcohol all over the floor, unable to tell one of my closest schoolmates from a complete stranger playing Pong.
And I kept dancing.
School starts in two days . . .
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a/n: Party-girl Hermione rides again! Yeah!
I hope those of you who asked for her are happy. You actually did inspire me. The confines of a drunken mind are actually really fascinating, and I was more than happy to explore them. Of course, I only had my own experiences as guidelines . . . hehehe!
Ah, so funny.
Anyway, thanks to my reviewers: Malfoyonme (hehe! I love that name!), kriCket xO, Quicksilver Foxx, and Fiona McKinnon
You guys are great!
Just so you know, I wrote this while in my deathbed – well, not really. But I felt sick as a dog. Don't ask what was wrong, because no one should have to relive that shit. I can only hope that it never happens to any of you. Anyway, the point is that REVIEWS make me feel better! Hint, hint! So press that nice little lavender-grey 'go' button and make me proud!
Love and lukewarm tea (I'm not allowed to have anything else while sick, apparently),
Cameo :
