To Hades with them!
Those two spoiled rotten gits thought that she was "unfun". That was a direct quote! Ron and Harry had the audacity to say she didn't know how to let loose. No, no, no! Hermione -frickin'- Granger couldn't possibly want a night off! And they hadn't let up... Even after she had expressed an interest in going to that ridiculous party!
Hermione stood in the waning light that peeked through the tower window. Most of the bottom panes had been covered during the last snow storm but the tops still allowed enough light to see by during the day and early evenings. She watched as the dust motes caught the dying rays and twinkled like glitter. Her mind wandered back to hearing the Seventh Year Ravenclaw girls giggling about the future festivities in the bathroom between classes.
Latisha Randle and Daisy Corran had prattled on about which "exemplary students" from each house would be there and what they had chosen to wear (if their ramblings were anything to go by, their outfits would be showing off all of their "exemplary assets"). Most importantly, at least to them, was why the wizard hosting the latest party, Cassius Warrington, had personally invited them. Hermione had taken her time washing up and gained some other more valuable information, like which room was going to be utilized that night.
Everyone in school had heard of these parties, making them the worst kept secret in all of Hogwarts. They were usually hosted by one of Slytherin House's Seventh Years. The undertaking mainly consisted of smuggling in their parents' booze from home and making sure the most popular students were invited. Fifth Years and up were the only ones allowed to attend, as it was intended to be a well deserved break from the demanding life of O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. preparation for the Fifth and Seventh Years. Under the guise of building connections for life outside of school, the crème de la crème of each Hogwarts House found and charmed an empty classroom for a single night each month. "Building connections" being the more proper term for hooking up... And then hoping they didn't regret their drunken shenanigans in the morning…
The Professors and Headmaster never caught them. Or more than likely, they realized that the students needed the outlet and let the nights of debauchery continue.
Hermione had never been invited. Neither had Harry or Ron for that matter. That didn't stop them from having a go at her about wishing to be invited. She couldn't help but think of how nice it would be to have one night where she could metaphorically let her hair down. Be able to let go and just feel like a part of the "in" crowd for once.
Those two horrible boys would never admit it but she knew they felt the same way. Their sneers a couple of months back showed their unvoiced feelings when the three of them had overheard the Slytherin in charge of October's soirée bragging about the multiple bottles of fifty-year-old firewhiskey he was able to snag. The jealousy at being excluded from the event had been tangible.
Last year they had often wondered aloud why they were never invited. Inventing excuses and explanations that had become more and more ludicrous with time, in the way only their imaginations could. They had come to the conclusion that Harry, in particular, had earned an invite due to his position as star Seeker alone.
She had known the real reason why and it was quite simple really... Besides the obvious "snitching" risks from Harry's unusually close relationship with Dumbledore; they were tainted by Harry's outbursts about Voldermort being back. Even with the ever-growing fame that had shadowed him since the moment he stepped onto the train for the very first time. Nothing had been worth the very real possibility of inviting him only to be stuck having to repeat an outburst from Umbridge's class. Being forced to listen to Harry argue that HE was very much alive and gaining more followers to his cause every day would, without a doubt, be the biggest buzzkill.
A sigh pushed its way from her lungs before she took the books in front of her and slammed them open. She needed to concentrate by putting those two idiots from her mind, and working on her essay for Ancient Runes that was due soon...
She quickly sat in the worn leather chair directly in front of the oversized stack. This was her favorite spot in the whole common room to do her homework. Those boys preferred to lounge on the floor by the fire but she enjoyed the anonymity of the little over-looked alcove, she was usually able to observe others when she grew bored and no one even noticed that she was there.
Instead of opening any of the literature, she leaned back and reverted to one of her normal soothing "ticks" as her mother liked to call them. She held the thin barrel of her quill tightly in a pinch with her right hand while the fingers of her left ran gently along the soft feathered body. For some reason, the rhythmic motion helped center her and she continued doing so as her mind raced, unable to stop herself from going over her conversation with the "Fun Judges" earlier again...
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"Why does it even matter 'Mione?" Ron had asked her out the side of his too full mouth. He kept an eye on the entrance to make sure his new girlfriend wouldn't spot him in her presence. Gods Forbid!
"What do you mean?"
"Well... You know... It's not exactly your sort of scene is it?" Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow as if the absurdity of Hermione wanting to go and get knockered should be evident.
Her pride had flared and she found herself wondering if that was the same face that James, his father, had made to his friends sometimes. And if they ever found themselves having to restrain themselves from pelting him... If so, in that moment, it was quandary how Remus, Sirius, Lily and the other members of the Order had put up with him.
"My sort of scene? Since none of us have ever gone, I highly doubt we know if it is my sort of scene." She hissed, the tone surprised them all and she quickly attempted to moderate her temper before she continued on. "And isn't that the point! It would be nice to go. Just once. I mean Fred and George seemed to enjoy themselves last year after their firework stunt."
Ron snorted and she glared over at him. Looking sheepish, he responded "Well yeah... They enjoyed themselves. If you believe them, it was the best night of their lives! Partin' it up was all they could talk about for months. But you never drink. You don't even like any of the prats that are goin' go which means you won't be snoggin' anyone. So what are you gonna do? Lecture everyone on the merits of drinkin' a large glass of water before bed to reduce the chance of hangover? It's not for you and you know it."
"He is right, Hermione." Harry had interrupted, seeing the challenge that flashed in her eyes. "Besides, we would just hang out in the corner by ourselves. No one would talk to us, like always... We really need to get our Potions essay done tonight anyway."
Harry was just trying to defuse the situation but she shivered at the anger that had swiftly reignited and swept up her spine. "My essay has been done for days now and I have much better things to do with my time than have you two copy my homework! Maybe the next time you waste your nights playing wizarding chess you will remember this."
It was just like them to do something like this. She had even told Harry that they were going to wait until the last minute and then expect her to do most of the work! Normally the assumption did not bother her. She'd scheduled specific times to be able to go over their essays and practice spellwork with them. But tonight was not the night to mess with her. She already felt the fiery sting of the snub by their fellow student body. She didn't need her friends telling her what was wrong with her and then expecting her to fall in line and help them with a stupid essays.
Especially not when one of them wasn't even allowed around her…
"Wh...What? You're not gonna help us? I mean… You're really not gonna help Harry? All because we like to take some time off and play wizarding chess every once in a while? That is so... so... unfun of you Hermione!" Ron whined at her.
"Yes... Yes! That is exactly what I am going to do, Ronald Weasley. If that makes me "unfun" then so be it!" She whispered furiously at him, afraid if she tried to talk any louder she would shout and everyone in the Great Hall would stare. She did not need to cause a scene over Ron and Harry being wankers. The shocked looks on both of their faces only riled her more and she had to fight back the urge to hex her two best friends.
They had hit a nerve. That was the real reason...
The reason she was never invited to those stupid parties.
She was "unfun".
Everyone thought she was a dud… She was the one you went to when you wanted to know where to find a book in the library if Madam Pince was otherwise disposed. She knew at what temperature to add the Aconite in a Wolfsbane Potion. Or the specific hand gesture to get the most out of an Aqua Eructo Charm. She was the brightest witch of their age after all… Something she usually took extreme pride in. But the girl to call on for a night of drinking? Surely not!
She quickly stood up from the table and picked up her heavy bag, slinging it over her shoulder, their looks of shock changed to ones of horror. They realized that she was dead serious. She wasn't going to help them. After a few seconds, Harry's recognition that her feelings had been hurt flitted across his features right before she turned, unwilling to listen to his apology, and stomped right out of the Great Hall...
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Hermione snorted at her theatrics. The long walk up to the Gryffindor common room had calmed her anger back to that feeling of challenge at Harry and Ron's words. No one in this school, including her own friends, thought she was anything more than a prissy mother hen. How could she ever need a break from the incessant mothering she felt obligated to give to those ungrateful jerks? Why would she possibly want to take shots of firewhiskey and forget that they all were headed to war? Soon... Too soon. None of them were prepared.
She stared up at the window unable to force the attentiveness needed for the task before her. It was the perfect atmosphere to get it done. The common room was surprisingly empty for the time of night. Normally, there were at least three or four rambunctious friend groups sitting around talking or working on homework. While a few couples could be found snuggled up on one of the many couches or chairs. Yet there was only one group of Second Years who were practicing their wandwork for Transfiguration; and a lone Fourth Year girl who was curled up with a book by the fire.
Suddenly an idea sprang into her mind and she set down her quill. A slow smirk stretched across her lips.
She would show them.
She would show them all...