''Mr. Seeker'' by Seel'vor

''Mr. Seeker'' by Seel'vor - Harry birthday to me. Hermione...

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Harry birthday to me. ..” Hermione slurred, singing in an off-key manor. “Harry birthday to me. .. Harry birthday dear. .. me. .. Harry birthday-” To you.” Harry said, adjusting his grip on his best friend. Although he wasn’t sober by any stretch of the imagination, he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be a danger to himself, unlike a certain bushy-haired girl of his acquaintance. .. who’d been drooling on him in the taxi home. “Hermione?” Mmm?” The brunette grunted. Can you stand up?” Harry asked, needing to reach into his pocket for his keys, but not able to do so with a drunk girl in his arms. No.” Hermione said firmly, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him. “You’re so pretty. ..” Thank you.” Harry replied, barely able to avoid rolling his eyes. Hermione was a very. .. fun drunk. She could out-weird Luna on her best days, a fact Harry found endlessly amusing. “Do you feel sick?” Feel nothing but good. ..” Hermione near-sang. Good.” Harry placed her legs firmly on the ground, before he grabbed an arm, flung it over his shoulder and hefted her up in a fireman’s carry. With one arm now free, he could grab his keys and let them into the house. With his hand halfway to the lock, he froze. “Hermione?” Hmm?” Did you just pinch my bum?” There was silence for a moment. “No, itsh still there.” Hermione replied. Good.” Harry said, shaking his head. “Get you up to bed, I think. A long sleep will do you the world of good.” Mmkay.” Finally getting the door open, Harry stepped inside, absently closing the door with his foot. His wand appeared in hand, flicking in a silent summoning charm to the kitchen. A hangover cure flew out of one of the cupboards, landing nearly in Harry’s outstretched hand. Slowly, he climbed the stairs with his inebriated cargo, stopping on the second floor. He opened Hermione’s bedroom door, wincing as the utter mess of the room overcame him. Back in school, Hermione’s overwhelming organisation had driven him mad. Her homework was always done on time, her notes neat, tidy and placed in appropriate folders.
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The first time he’d been to her house, back in the summer after fifth year, he’d been shocked by how messy her bedroom was. Puddles of abandoned underwear, random piles of girly magazines and the kicker; posters of boy bands sloppily stuck to the wall. Harry didn’t consider himself a neatness freak, unlike some he could name (cough Petunia cough), but the warzone that was Hermione’s bedroom always shocked him. He made his way across the minefield of dirty knickers, stepping over the dirty sock barricade, before he gently laid Hermione on her bed. He took off her shoes and socks, adding to the barricade, before he pulled the covers over her. He grinned as she let out a high-pitched snore. With a soft chuckle, he placed the hangover cure on her bedside table, knowing that
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''Mr. Seeker'' by Seel'vor - Harry birthday to me. Hermione...

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