Better Ridiculous Than Boring (Drabbles)

It was becoming increasingly clear that Hermione had been stood up. As it approached quarter to nine, forty five minutes after their agreed upon meeting time, she felt like an idiot. She ordered herself another drink, intending to drown her sorrows, and crossed her legs at the ankles, all of a sudden feeling overdressed in her short dress. 

She glanced over at the door as three witches staggered into the bar and ordered a round of shots. Hermione watched them curiously, realising that she knew them. Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Padma Patil, all swamped in slytherin quidditch shirts that were quite obviously not their own. Her staring got her caught, as Daphne squealed. 

“Hermione Granger! Why are you by yourself?” She asked a little too loudly, betraying how drunk she already was. Hermione shrugged. 

“I was supposed to be on a date, but-” She waved a hand towards the empty seat next to her. Padma frowned. 

“You got stood up? You? Was your date blind or something?”

“No, he was-” 

“Fucking stupid. Since when did you have legs like that?” Pansy demanded, looking down at Hermione’s legs. “Have I just not been paying attention?” 

“Sorry, they had pre-drinks without me.” Padma explained, glancing at her drunk friends. “It’s Pansy’s hen do. We’re on a crawl.” 

“It is a hag do, thank you very much.” Pansy corrected her. “Monty is on his stag at the same time. They’re simlee….simulnat…simulnatinus.” 

“Simultaneous?” Hermione smirked. Pansy pointed at her and nodded. 

“That.” 

“They’re playing quidditch.” Daphne chirped. “Theo didn’t want to, but Pansy banned him from coming with us.” 

“Because this is a girl’s night, and he is not a girl, Daph. I don’t care if he’s shagging Longbottom, it makes no difference.” Pansy shot back. An idea then occurred to the slytherin, her face changing as she considered it. “Padma, have you got the spare shirt in your bag?” 

Padma frowned for a moment, before glancing at Hermione and smiling. “Yes, I have.” 

Daphne squealed. “You should join us, Hermione Granger! We’ll have fun, I promise.” 

Padma thrust a green jersey at her, and Hermione raised an eyebrow as she saw the name written across the back. “Seriously?” 

Padma smirked. “We’ve all got matching ones, but he didn’t have anyone to wear his.” She replied, turning around to show her the word ZABINI spread across her shoulders. Pansy’s said MONTAGUE, and Daphne’s said GOYLE. 

“And they have your names?” Hermione asked. 

“And colours. We had to force Blaise to wear blue.” Daphne giggled. She considered the shirt again, the word MALFOY staring back at her. Something about the idea of Draco Malfoy having to wear a red shirt that said GRANGER on the back was infinitely amusing to her vaguely sozzled brain, so she threw caution to the wind and pulled the top over her head, tying it at her waist so it didn’t swallow her whole. Pansy grinned widely. 

“Granger, do you like karaoke?” She asked, reaching for her hand and pulling her along behind her. 

Draco just about managed to land his broom with the aggressive little note poking him in the face. Pansy always charmed them to be like that, and he huffed, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve as he unfolded the paper plane. Inside was a small photo with a note scrawled across the back. He snorted, imagining how drunk the witch must be. Taking in the photo, he blinked in surprise. 

Adjust your shirt accordingly, brother dearest. I accept payment, as a token of your gratitude, in the form of Louboutins. I’ll convince her to come back with us later, but only if you’re especially generous, you understand. Love, P x

Looking back up at him was Hermione Granger, wearing his bloody quidditch shirt. The loop played over of her and Daphne singing with their arms draped around each other. Patil always carried a camera with her, so he knew where the photo had come from, but he didn’t really understand how they’d convinced Granger to join their night of debauchery. 

Who was he kidding, he didn’t care how. He waved his wand, turning his shirt red. With her name spreading across his shoulders, he scribbled a reply to Pansy before taking off to rejoin the game. Theo pointed at him and laughed, and Draco did a smug little spin in celebration.

Back in the bar, Pansy squealed in delight. “Next round on me!” Pansy exclaimed. “I’m getting free shoes for life!”