FIFTY SHADES OF SLYTHERIN

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling nor any other author. I am only a poor, bored fanfic author with no copyrights except for this story.

oOo

The next day, headlines with "Crime or Heartbreak? Wizarding World's Golden Girl Disappears" and "Perfect Couple Crashes and Burns to Mysterious Ruins" covered the front page of nearly every newspaper in the magical Britain. Even the Quibbler discarded a twenty-page essay on Nogtail Crossbreeds to cover the story.

Meanwhile, Ron was miserable. He'd thought the only person he would lose was Hermione. He was very, very wrong.

First, he had apparated to the Potter's house as soon as Hermione disappeared, to notify them on her disappearance. He meant to give them a "slightly edited" version of events, but then let it slip that there had been another female there as well. Ginny, being the ever-insightful sister, wormed the truth out of him. It was difficult to say which of the Potters were angrier.

So after the verbal and physical beating he had took at their place, he went home to the Burrow to find at least a little comfort in his parents. (A bit pathetic, yes, but he knew full well how his brothers would respond to this situation). Unfortunately, Ginny, in a blithering rage, had Flooed their mother, and was currently informing her the situation.

It was needless to say that Mrs. Weasley went ballistic. When she found out Ron had been eavesdropping on her, too, well, a few whacks on the head with a saucepan occurred in the kitchen.

Before his father could come home and attack him too, Ron apparated off in a hurry. Rubbing the bludger-sized bump on his head angrily, he landed back in the living room. Hermione had left most of her stuff… he hurled a framed picture at the wall angrily. Everyone was just overreacting… It wasn't like he'd killed her or anything… He needed a drink, badly.

Soon he appeared in the alley next to a muggle bar. Stalking inside, he ordered three drinks, eyeing some pretty girls in the corner. What a way to start the night.

oOo

While Ron was "suffering", Hermione was well on her way to anonymity. In fact, anyone who knew her before would not recognize her at all. She had transfigured her curly mess of brown hair into sleek blonde locks, her olive skin into porcelain, and put on a generous amount of makeup. She looked more like Narcissa Malfoy's clone than anything similar to herself.

The only noticeable features that remained the same were her eyes and her slender figure. She wasn't about to go buxom just for revenge.

Hermione carefully applied the last layer of scarlet lipstick (oh yes, she knew how to be girly when she wanted), patted her eyeshadow lightly, and left the public bathroom. Now, clothes… her casual tees would not cut it now. Ironically, she turned to the thought of Narcissa Malfoy again… what would she wear?

Ah, there was a giant Liberty London down the avenue… It was expensive, so what? Hermione wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for no reason; no, she had, before transforming her appearance, visited Gringotts, pulling out all the gold her purse could hold from the account she shared with Ron. Any later, she would have been locked out by Ron, most likely.

Hermione strolled into the store, peering through the glass windows at the lingerie and perfumes. Nothing she wanted to buy yet… wait, what did she want to buy? She stopped in her tracks, thinking. Narcissa Malfoy would wear perfume, and fancy underwear, and expensive gowns.

She turned back and went through every store in the building.

oOo

He had lost her. He had no idea where she went now - he had been held up on the Underground. (How on earth did muggles figure out that terrifying machine!)

He huffed to himself. He had no idea why he was so infatuated with her, but when Draco Malfoy set his sights on a girl, she would be eating out of his hand in no time. Time for a drink, maybe…

Draco stepped into the nearest pub. It was muggle, but he actually preferred muggle drinks - more choices.

He had barely sat down at the bar when someone punched him in the side of the head. "What the-" he whirled around to see a completely wasted Ronald Weasley standing in front of him. "What do you want, Weasel?" he spat, feeling his ear delicately.

Ron slurred, "Ferret boy, you're - you're dead," before he swayed and grabbed Draco for balance.

"Is that so," Draco said, gritting his teeth, attempting to pry the redhead off of him.

"You - you're a bastard," Ron hissed.

"And what does that make you? What's your problem anyway? Can't a guy drink in peace, without being whined at by a weasel?" Draco looked towards the door. Surely this guy wouldn't follow him to the next bar, would he?

Ron ignored Draco's futile attempts at freeing himself and pushed his face closer. "I saw you," he growled, seemingly sober for an instant. "You-you were looking at her - she's mine y'hear me? You were lookin' - lookin' at her, at that ball while back," he mumbled, as if he were forgetting what he was going to say. He probably was, judging by the severity of his inebriation.

Draco froze slightly. He could, actually, understand what Ron was going at. The Ministry-held Christmas ball, that he had first seen Hermione at. The ball to which she had worn the most amazing dress with no sleeves or back. The ball which he had decided she was worth his love.

"I - what do you mean?" Draco lied.

"Y'know what I mean… you starin' at her… 'Mione. She's mine, mine, goddit ferret, mine…" Ron collapsed on the floor at Draco's feet. Draco stared at him in repulsion, then kicked him aside slightly and left.

oOo

Hermione left Liberty wearing a short, lacy black dress and four-inch heels she would have already died in if it were not for her Cushioning charm she had placed on them. She had also gotten her ears pierced, and tiny onyx studs twinkled from them. If she said so herself, she looked rather nice… in a dangerous way.

Ruefully running her new red nails through her blonde hair, she started towards the bar on the other side of the street. It was filled with a low buzz when she came in, but stopped momentarily as heads turned.

Hermione, not used to attention, self-consciously wondered if she had food in her teeth or something. She couldn't be that attractive, right? Wrong, apparently. More than a few guys, the bartender included, nodded "manlily" at her, not-so-subtly scooting over to make room.

She tsked. She wouldn't lower herself that much. The dress was a mistake, apparently. Drunkards didn't do it for her.

Hermione was just about to turn heel and go when a pretty girl in the back waved at her. She slowly made her way over to the table.

"Looking hot, girlfriend," the girl said appreciatively. She, too, was dressed in quite little, with a cool black bob and green eyes.

Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly. The girl understood immediately and backed off. "No, no, I'm straight. Come on, can't someone just give a compliment and not be perceived as gay? I've got plenty of male proof I'm not."

Hermione smiled tightly and sat down. She absolutely needed a drink now…

"Here," the girl said, passing her glass to Hermione and ordering another. "Tequila shots."

"Oh," Hermione said in surprise, staring at the liquid. "Celebrating anything?"

"No, unless you count the fact that I'm alive and running. By the way, I'm Jasmin, call me Jaz."

Hermione gulped the drink, thinking quickly. She needed a name… "Natalie."

Jaz nodded. "So, what are you doing here? The pick here is rather limited. I have a feeling you can do better."

Hermione sighed. "He cheated on me." That, at least, was the truth. She wasn't completely comfortable lying, especially to someone nice like Jaz.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He must be pretty stupid, though…" Jaz glanced at Hermione again. "Maybe he had an accident and hit his head, to pass off someone like you. Hey, I could set you up," she suggested. "I know some hot guys, I'm willing to share."

Hermione waved her hand for another glass. "Nah, I'm okay. So - uh, what do you do?"

Jaz looked surprised. "Oh, I sing. You know small gigs in bars and such. Not much income. You?"

Hermione was about to blow her cover and say 'I'm training as an Auror for the Ministry.' Instead, she wildly invented something. "Oh, um, I do, you know, botany."

"Botany? As in plants?' Jaz looked disbelieving.

"Yeah, at the London, um, Botanical Garden." She prayed there was such a thing. "I study, uh, trees. Yeah, like we have a pine and a, uh, oak-"

Luckily they were both pretty drunk, and smoothed over the sticky spot quickly. The night passed and they soon were trading everything from addresses to favorite sex positions.

"And he said, like, 'Where are the vegetables, honey' and I was just like, 'we already got them, remember!" They both doubled over in laughter. Finally Hermione, wiping tears from her eyes, looked at her watch. "Oh lord, it's one in the morning! I really need to go…" she slurred. "Shee you next time, call ya maybe." They said (quite indecipherably) their goodbyes and headed out.

She stumbled out of the bar, to realize she had no place to sleep. A bus full of drunken youth like her rumbled past. Hermione thought fast, or as fast as it could in it sluggish state. She needed to find a cheap motel or something…

So Hermione, drunk and lost, wandered around muggle London, finally finding a very rundown looking inn. Unable to support herself any longer, she collapsed in the lobby. The receptionist, a greasy-haired young fellow, took one look at her and quickly came over to "help". With a bit of excess handling in some areas, he carried her up to one of the rooms, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione's last, blurry thoughts before drifting into long, dreamless sleep was, why do I smell like alcohol?