Chapter 2
Waking up the morning after the banquet was not what Hermione had initially anticipated. She had clearly consumed way too much gin, and her head felt like it was being compressed into one of the tubes that sucked the water out of your mouth at the dentist.
She reluctantly opened her eyes and struggled to focus on her surroundings. The light was extremely bright, and Hermione was starting to get confused. She always closed the curtains in her room. Even if she didn’t, there was never this much light in the morning.
She was not in her room.
As quickly as she could manage without feeling like her head would explode, she sat up to hopefully orient herself. The room was painted a soft cream color, with the only decoration being a cape Hermione recognized as part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team uniform.
She was definitely in a man’s apartment, and she was very naked.
She screwed her eyes shut. This was all just a dream, it was not happening. This was very unlike Hermione, so it had to be a dream.
The pinch on her forearm was painful and confirmed that it was, in fact, not a dream.
Suddenly, the bed shifted, and she felt an arm wrap around her waist and pull her back down to the bed. Her eyes still shut, she felt someone burrow their head into her neck while breathing softly and evenly. Luckily for Hermione, this meant whoever held her was probably still sleeping. Taking a deep breath, she once again opened her eyes to see the man who had his arm around her waist.
Bright red hair, and thankfully, two ears. At least she hadn’t ruined a relationship, but that meant she was lying next to Fred.
The brother of the man she once loved and who cheated on her. Lovely.
Fred had reacted to his near-death experience in the final battle like a typical man and assumed the role of a bachelor when he fully recovered. Molly always seemed to bring up his relationship status when Hermione attended Sunday lunches, and he would always brush her off and assure her he would settle down soon enough. More whispered conversations amongst the Weasley boys tended to veer towards Fred’s conquests.
Hermione’s stomach churned at the reminder, and she quickly flung his arm off her waist and ran into the connecting bathroom in Fred’s room. The gin and tonic made a nasty return, and she heaved until her stomach was emptied. She froze when she heard steps approaching the bathroom, followed by a soft knock.
“There are hangover potions in the mirror cabinet. Help yourself.”
Maybe there was a silver lining to Fred’s activities.
She downed a potion immediately and splashed some cold water on her face. The potion’s effects rippled from her torso throughout her body, and the pounding in her head ceased. She examined her appearance in the mirror, which was hung entirely too high for someone her height. Thankfully, she could at least see her face, and her makeup was removed at some point. Her hair was not so lucky. The French pin had disappeared, and to put it crudely, it looked like she had been thoroughly shagged.
“Shit.”
-
When she finally mustered the courage to exit the bathroom, she found Fred was no longer in his bedroom. A pair of drawstring sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt waited on the bed for her, and she quickly covered herself up.
She refused to let herself think how many women could’ve worn these clothes.
Her dress was folded and on the nightstand with her wand placed neatly on top. She sighed, relieved at the sight of her wand, and quickly picked it up to charm the knots out of her hair. She took a deep breath and decided to go to the kitchen. The smell of breakfast was too tempting for her empty stomach to ignore, and she had to face Fred sooner or later. She was happy George had moved out the year before to a house with Angelina in the Hogsmeade countryside. At least nobody else would be present to witness her embarrassment.
When she entered the kitchen, Fred was facing away from her at the stovetop. He only wore plaid pajama bottoms, and Hermione noticed scratches lined his back.
Lovely.
She cleared her throat, leaning into the doorway. Fred turned towards her and gave her a sheepish smile. He placed a plate on the island for her, with a healthy serving of pancakes and eggs.
“Thought you might need to get something on your stomach.”
“You didn’t need to, I have plenty of food at home.” She said this to be more polite; in reality, she was starving and desperately needed to go grocery shopping.
“Honestly, Min. I insist. Please sit and eat.”
She was hungry, so she sat and slowly ate her breakfast. After a few bites, her stomach finally settled. She sighed in relief and placed her fork down, softly rubbing her eyes with her hands.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
He poured a cup for her and sat beside her with his full plate. They ate in silence, glancing at each other ever so often. Hermione noticed a mouth-shaped bruise behind his ear. Scratches and a hickey? It had been so long since she had been with someone, and it seemed she had gone all out.
Part of her was glad she didn’t remember, and part of her wished she did.
When she finished, she stood and started to wash the dishes.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Oh, you insisted on breakfast, so I am at least going to clean up.”
“Min,” He suddenly was beside her and softly pushed her arm down. She placed the pan she was washing in the sink, and they stared at each other.
Hermione had never noticed the flecks of blue in his green eyes and how many freckles covered his face. His expression was filled with apprehension, like he was holding his breath, waiting to see the consequences of the actions of the night before.
“We should talk.”
“I’m sorry, Min.”
“No, Fred. I’m sorry. I honestly don’t even know what happened.”
“Well, I think it is quite obvious what happened,” he said, wagging his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes and leaned against the island across from him. Maybe some distance was necessary to continue this conversation.
“Yes. That is obvious. My question is what should we do about it.”
Fred raised an eyebrow at her and smirked, “Want to do it again, Min?”
“Ugh, Fred! I’m serious. We have become good friends, I don’t want to ruin that. Sunday lunch is already awkward enough sometimes.” Fred’s expression softened at her words, and he offered her a soft smile.
“I have enjoyed being your friend, Min. I will keep the joking to a minimum from now on. So, what do you think?”
“I think we should keep this between us and just move on from it.”
His face fell slightly before he responded, “Alright, I can do that.”
“And you can’t tell George! Merlin knows he cannot keep a secret.”
“Oh, c’mon, Min! He probably can already sense it!”
She rolled her eyes again at him, “I’ve heard how you talk with him about your conquests.”
He froze, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.
“You’re not a conquest. You’re Min.” He said it so quietly she barely heard it. Their friendship hadn’t been something Hermione was expecting, but she was thankful for it. He always noticed if she felt awkward at the Burrow and would crack a timely joke to make her laugh. She even would visit the store if she shopped in Diagon, always buying some of the perfume they sold in their obnoxious witch section. She didn’t want to lose that.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It is not my business what you do.”
“It’s fine. I am safe about it, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
She gave him a small smile, “I know, Freddie. Thanks for what seemed like a good night, not that I really remember it.”
They both laughed. The situation itself seemed a little ridiculous, but Hermione was glad she knew him well. I wasn’t a random shag, and she was thankful it was someone she trusted.
“We can just forget it happened, Fred. Just continue as normal.”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” They briefly stood in an awkward silence, then Hermione stepped towards him and pulled him into an embrace.
“Thank you for breakfast.”
“Of course, Min. Anything for you.”
She pulled back from him and muttered a quick goodbye. He seemed almost sad about the conversation, but he quickly turned away from her and to the sink so she could not analyze his expression further. She gathered her things from the bedroom and flooed back home, still wearing his clothes. She stepped over the threshold and was greeted by a massive ball of black fur curling around her ankles.
“Hello, Abey. I’ll feed you right now, I promise, sweet boy.”
Her cat, Abernathy, meowed as if to tell her to hurry up. Hermione cracked open a can of wet food and placed it in his bowl. He purred in delight and started scarfing down his breakfast.
“Good boy.” She briefly scratched his head and went to her bathroom to shower. A good shower would help her reset, maybe even wash off the events of the night before.
She gasped when she saw her breasts. The bruises definitely would not wash off.
-
Hermione decided to curl up on her couch with a book for the rest of the day. Muggle literature always seemed to help clear her head, and she was halfway through Brontë’s Jane Eyre when her floo roared to life. Ginny’s face appeared in the flames, and Hermione bookmarked her place and greeted her friend.
“Managing your hangover well?”
“I am very thankful for magic, so I’m doing alright. How about you? Did the Goblin wine treat you well this morning?”
“Oh, very well. If you know what I mean.” Ginny responded with a wink. Hermione blushed at her friend’s statement and looked down at her hands.
“Speaking of which, what did you get up to last night? Last I saw you were dancing with Neville, and dancing is putting it lightly. You were practically dragging him across the floor.” Hermione cringed at the description. Poor Neville.
“It’s honestly quite hazy. I got here in one piece, though.”
She chose to omit that she had slept somewhere else first. With someone she knew very well.
“I’m sure! Just wanted to check in on you. Also, Mum wanted me to pass along your invitation to lunch tomorrow.” Hermione’s stomach dropped. She had missed Sunday lunch before, but would it be suspicious if she didn’t show? Surely nobody would think anything of it?
“Oh, Gin. I don’t think I can make it this weekend. Already had enough excitement, and there’s some work I have to do. Please pass along my love.”
“Ugh, Hermione. I need to set you up soon, you work too much.” Hermione gave her a weak smile in response. She wasn’t completing any work tomorrow, but it was a believable enough excuse based on how she brought work home with her many times.
“Well, thanks for the message. Give Harry my love.”
“Alright, Hermione. You are still welcome if you change your mind!” With that, Ginny disappeared from the fire, and Hermione was left staring into the orange flames. Abernathy crawled into her lap and curled up, and she scratched behind his ears.
“At least I have you, Abe. You’re the only man I need.”