Harry birthday to me.
..” Hermione slurred, singing in an off-key manor. “Harry
birthday to me.
.. Harry birthday dear.
.. 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
Thank you.” Harry replied, barely able to avoid rolling his eyes. Hermione was a
.. 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.
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.”
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.