Antinome

AN-tuh-nohm | noun

1: something that is contradictory or opposite to another; a logical contradiction

Hermione Granger never overindulged. She was a grown woman, a professional, and she was always fully in control of herself. When her eyes cracked open the morning after Ginny Weasley's bachelorette party, her eyeballs were assaulted by the light from her open window and she was fairly certain that someone had lodged a sizeable ice pick straight through her ear and into her brain. She managed to keep from spewing all over the floor of her living room as she rolled over on the couch, groaning loudly. She hadn't the faintest idea why she was on her couch rather than in her bed. How much had she drunk? Merlin, she couldn't remember ever feeling so rotten after a night out.

She glanced at the grandfather clock against the far wall and bolted upright. Immediately, she clutched her head, hissing in pain. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. As the elephant parade inside her skull began to die down, she squinted again at the clock. Shit, breakfast was half over already. As quickly as she dared, she moved into the bedroom to dress. Her visit to Poppy for a hangover remedy would have to wait until after the meal.

It bothered her that she had only patchy recall of the night before. She hated not knowing exactly what had happened. What had she said, done? What had been said to her? Not that Hermione had many secrets, but what if she had said something monumentally stupid? There were those who would accuse her of being a hardass – rightfully so – and she shuddered to think that she had embarrassed herself.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, it's a party! Have a drink!" Parvati pushed a shot of some bright pink concoction into her hands. Hermione stared at it for a good three seconds before she caught sight of Ginny across the room. The bride-to-be grinned wickedly and made a guzzling motion with her hand. With a sigh, Hermione downed it in one gulp.

Apparently, that had been the first of many drinks. As she quietly closed the front door of her rooms behind her, she cursed herself for being so bloody practical. She never drank more than she could handle, so she never kept hangover remedy in her potions cabinet. It was unnecessary, would only take up space.

"Like the porcupine taking up space in my head," she grumbled to herself as she gingerly descended the stairs toward the great hall.

She slipped into the hall through the staff entrance and slunk to her seat at the table between Severus and Ginny, who looked about as good as she did. At least the red-head had made it to the meal on time.

"How nice of you to join us," Severus greeted, rather more loudly than necessary, she thought.

She winced. "Please do stuff it." Had they not been in full view of the student body, she was sure he would have laughed at her. Over the year and a half that he had been her boss, he had moved from horrible git to tolerable coworker to decent meal companion. Somewhere after the first few months he had moved firmly into place as friend.

"Rough night?" he asked. She knew him well enough by now to hear the feigned tone of innocence in his voice.

She did not deign to answer his question, instead posing her own. "What's got you so chipper?"

"He's been like that all morning," Ginny grumbled from her other side. "I think he just likes seeing us suffer."

Hermione gave the professor an appraising look. "That sounds about right."

"So how do you know Ginny?" Hermione asked the woman sitting next to her. Ginny herself was sitting in a chair a meter or so off, eagerly watching a wizard dressed in a muggle police uniform gyrating in front of her.

"Hm?" The woman tore her eyes away from the show to glance over at Hermione. "Oh, we played together for the Harpies. I was so mad at her when she took that position at Hogwarts. I mean, seriously, you're going to go from playing professional quidditch to refereeing kiddy games?" She rolled her eyes.

Secretly, Hermione thought the woman was a bit of a bitch. She took another sip of her firewhisky.

"Actually," Severus said slowly, "I received a visitor last night, who gave me some surprising news."

"What news was that?"

One eyebrow raised in her direction. "That, Miss Granger, is not your business right now."

She blinked. It must have been juicy. He hadn't called her Miss Granger in more than a year.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, falling into the booth beside her maid of honor. "How's it over here?"

Hermione, cheeks a bit pink from the alcohol, smiled and took a sip of her whisky. "It's great. You did a good party, Gin. I'm sooo happy for you."

"I'm so happy for me too. But you need somebody. Want me to set you up with the stripper? He does a good show."

She laughed. "He does do a good show," she agreed, "but I think I've already got my eye on a fellow."

Ginny leaned forward and it was good that there was a table to catch her or she might have fallen out of her seat. "Who is it?"

"I'm not telling," Hermione said in a sing-song voice. "It's a secret."

"Oh, shit," she mumbled, letting her forehead fall into her hand. Try as she might, that was as far as she could remember. Had she told drunk Ginny her secret? She turned to her best friend. "Speaking of surprising news, did I, er, give you any last night?"

Ginny groaned. "Hermione, I have not the foggiest…" She trailed off, her face going slack.

oOo

"Please, Mione, I won't tell. Who is it?" It had been ages since Hermione had broken up with Ron and she had been so busy with the final year of her apprenticeship with McGonagall that she hadn't shown the slightest interest in dating anyone at all since.

"You have to promise you won't tell," the brunette answered, leaning forward across the table.

"I promise."

"You swear?" Hermione took another sip of her whisky.

"I swear, just tell me who it is already!"

"It's… No, sorry, I can't tell you."

Sitting at the breakfast table the morning after the conversation, she felt the distinct urge to poke Hermione in the eye. You couldn't just have that kind of build-up and then not tell her who it is. It was unfair.

"You sure did not," Ginny said sullenly.

oOo

Relief coursed through her. Of course she hadn't spilled her secret. It was basically her only secret. If she couldn't keep that one, then what good was she?

oOo

Severus still wasn't sure what to do with his surprise news. When he had answered a knock at his door at midnight, he had most certainly not been expecting what had greeted him.

"Severus!" Ginny nearly screeched at him.

He winced, getting a whiff of the alcohol on her breath. "What can I do for you this evening, Ginny?" He was long since past referring to her as Miss Weasley. With her replacing Madam Hooch and Hermione finishing up her training to step in for Minerva, who would be replacing him as head of the school, Hogwarts was looking a bit more youthful these days. After a year and a half, he had accepted the fact that the two were here to stay. It had been the hope, after all, when he hired them.

"I have a secret that I'm not 'sposed to tell you," she said in what he thought she must have believed was a whisper.

Tonight had been the future Mrs. Potter's bachelorette party, had it not? Obviously, the woman had had just a bit too much to drink. "Well then I would suggest running along and not telling me."

"But she's been so saaad and looonely," Ginny continued, ignoring him as she articulated her point with her hands. "She didn't want me to tell you but friends don't let friends suffer in unrequited love."

A spark of what felt suspiciously like hope flared to life in his chest. One eyebrow arched and he wondered if the ginger was referring to whom he hoped she was referring. Despite his curiosity, he insisted, "Ginny, I don't believe that you should be here telling me this."

"Oh, fuff," she said, waving her hands in a dismissive motion. "She'll never tell you and then how will you knooow?"

Severus sighed, dropping his forehead into one hand. He should just close the door on her and go back to bed. Alone. Lonely and heartsick like a fucking teenager. "Just tell me then, and get yourself to bed. You really shouldn't be wandering the school like this."

Ginny grinned widely. "It's Hermione!"

oOo

She had finally gotten her hangover remedy from Poppy. The air was crisp, her head was clear, and she no longer wanted to vomit on her own shoes.
"Hermione," Severus called, approaching from the opposite end of the corridor, "may I have a word with you?"

She smiled, everything right with the world again with her brain porcupine evicted. "Of course." She followed him into a spare classroom, her eyebrows raised. "How professional."

He silenced the room wordlessly. "What I need to speak with you about… isn't strictly professional," he admitted.

She stared at him silently, waiting, as anxiety began to churn in her gut.

"Ginny came to see me last night."

"Oh, hell," Hermione groaned. "She didn't do anything ridiculous, did she? We both overindulged just a bit last night."

"Is there anything you would like to tell me?" he continued as though he hadn't heard her.

Her heart pounded. "I… No?" There were things that she should tell him. There were things she would like to hear from him. But there was nothing that she would like to tell him. Admitting feelings for an ex-professor now one's boss was not a thing that any sane person would like to do. He stared intently into her eyes and she got the sense that he was reading her. Merlin, what had Ginny told him? He stepped closer to her. Her breath hitched but she held her ground.

"No?"

She couldn't breathe. She shook her head wordlessly. He took another step toward her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. If she had the courage, she could reach out and touch him. She could pull him to her, wrap her arms around him. She could –

He let out a low growl of frustration and surged forward. He pulled her chin upward and his lips crashed down on hers. She felt her body go limp, her mind blanking completely. Then, without conscious direction, her hands reached up to clutch at the front of his robes and she was kissing him back and one of his hands was on her back, pulling her closer, and she was feeling lightheaded and she needed to breathe and, long before she was ready, he was pulling back.

She blinked dumbly for a moment. "Ginny told you that, did she?"

He nodded.

She lowered her head, resting her forehead against his chest. "Is this allowed?" she asked quietly.

"No," he answered, and she could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke. "A headmaster or -mistress is not permitted to be involved with one of his or her staff."

Her shoulders sagged.

"But I'm only headmaster for another three months." A smile spread slowly across her face as she looked up and met his eyes. "After that, just do your best not to shag Minerva and I believe that you'll be set."

She leaned into him. She could scarcely believe this was really happening. She would have to murder Ginny and thank her profusely later. "It will be difficult to restrain myself but I think I could be kept distracted."

He smiled, and the look in his eye caused her breathing to hitch. "I'll have to get right on that. Immediately after Minerva officially takes over the office. Until then, this," he squeezed her tighter, "cannot happen. But rest assured, I'll be counting the days."

"So will I."