A Night at the Three Broomsticks
Disclaimers: I don't own the Harry Potter universe or anything else mentioned within that holds a copyright.
Author's Notes: Okay, so this is a semi-smutty fic—but hey, I do have hormones. Anyways, it's rated R for some smut and some alcohol usage, maybe language, ya never know.
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione meet up with Fred, George and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks. Things go crazy after a few drinks (and Fred and George spike Hermione's butterbeer). Please read and review!
The Three Broomsticks offered a cheerful atmosphere, and a warm respite from the thunder and rain. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger dragged the door shut behind them, fighting against the howling wind to pull it closed. They smiled at Rosmerta, the bartender, and headed over to the bar for drinks. While Harry and Ron ordered a bottle of tequila, Hermione asked for butterbeer.
"C'mon, Hermione!" Ron said with a groan. "We're legally able to drink alcohol, and you're still going for butterbeer? Please, you haven't touched real alcohol in your life!"
"Ha! We're meeting Fred and George. Getting drunk doesn't seem like a good idea around them."
"Good point," Harry laughed.
"Yeah, but one shot won't kill you, 'Mione! You never drink!" Ron protested.
"That's because I'm intelligent," she retorted, and Ron finally rolled his eyes and let the subject drop. Harry, Ron and Hermione were working as Aurors-in-training at the Ministry of Magic, but had taken time off to attend the graduation of Ginny Weasley—Ron's sister, and their friend. Fred and George had decided to meet them in the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade to catch up.
Fred and George were difficult to miss. They were both tall, though shorter than their brother Ron, and had Ron and Ginny's flaming red hair. Unlike Ron or Ginny, however, they were loud and boisterous, and currently flirting shamelessly with Katie Bell, who'd been working at the Three Broomsticks to save up money for a trip to Transylvania, where she planned on studying vampires. Sitting with Fred and George, shaking her head and laughing at their antics, was—
"Ginny! My god, it's so good to see you!" Ron exclaimed, wrapping her in a bear hug.
"Hey, Gin," Harry said, throwing his arms around her next.
Hermione hugged her last, frowning. "Ginny, why didn't you tell us this was a Hogsmeade weekend? You knew we'd be in town—"
Once grin exchanged between Fred and George told Hermione all she needed to know. She groaned. "Please, tell me you didn't sneak her out of the castle!"
"Us?" Fred said innocently, a look of surprise on his face mirroring that on George's. "Sneak someone out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Why on earth would we do a thing like that?"
Hermione slapped her forehead, though Ron and Harry's mouths twitched, trying to fight off smiles for the sake of avoiding Hermione's wrath. She scolded the twins profusely as Madam Rosmerta brought their drinks. "Ah, tequila!" George said loudly, trying to stave off Hermione's lecture. "C'mon, baby sis, no seventeen-year-old should be without the knowledge of how to properly take a shot of tequila!" He grabbed Ron's shot glass, asking for an extra one from Madam Rosmerta.
"George! She really shouldn't be drinking; she's got to be up bright and early—"
"Come now, Hermione, it's the day before she graduates! She's allowed a little fun!" Fred chided, handing George the salt and lemon wedges.
George proceeded to show Ginny how to take a shot of it; he moistened the webbing between his thumb and forefinger with his tongue, sprinkled salt on the wet area, then licked it off, gulped the shot, and sucked on the lemon wedge. Ginny followed suit, gagging a little at the taste, but holding her own. Hermione sulked, but finally shut up, and the conversation turned to more mundane topics. Fred and George had nearly put the Diagon Alley branch of Zonko's Joke Shop out of business with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and were planning to open another branch in Hogsmeade. When Hermione gave them a Mrs.-Weasley-like glare as they mentioned a few of their new inventions, however, Harry changed the subject and told the twins about the offer Ron had received to play Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. Everyone had a lot of fun chastising Ron about turning it down. The move had surprised them all, even Harry and Hermione, though the three worked well together and couldn't picture working at the Ministry without Ron. Ginny, however, was thinking seriously about Quidditch as a career; she'd joined the Gryffindor team in her fourth year and was the best Chaser Hogwarts had seen in several centuries, but she still wasn't sure about it. "There's a place for you at the Ministry, Gin, if you want it," Ron told her, but Ginny only shrugged.
"Bill said the same thing about Gringotts," she laughed. "And Charlie about Romania. And Fred and George about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, though I don't think I'll work there, that's for sure."
"Why not?" Fred demanded, pretending to be hurt.
"Why not? She doesn't want to be turned into a canary or have her tongue grow five extra feet or have her hair turned blue!" Hermione said, laughing.
"Exactly," Ginny said.
"Come, now, would we turn our own sister into a canary?" George joked.
"Yes!" chorused Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
"Yes—I mean, of course not!" Fred said with a straight face. "A snake, or a hippogriff, or a wyvern, yes. Canary, no."
"Ha, ha," Ginny retorted sarcastically. She took another shot of tequila, now quite tipsy, giggling. "Ooh, I can't feel my ankles... hee, hee," she said, then visibly made an effort to pull herself together. "Anyways, I don't want to end up covered in burns, either, and you should see the curses wizards put on their tombs in Egypt! One group from Bill's team got hit with a booby-trap that shot the Cruciatus. They were all writhing in agony. No, I'm gonna do my own thing. Not sure what, though."
"Good for you, Gin," Hermione said warmly, and the others nodded in agreement. Ginny went for another shot of tequila, and Hermione reached over and gently plucked the bottle away, leaving her butterbeer unattended for a split second. It was long enough, however, and when she leaned back, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were looking at each other and trying not to laugh. "What?" Hermione demanded. No one spoke. Glaring at them all, she sipped her butterbeer, unable to detect any difference in it.
The night wore on, and Hermione began to gulp the butterbeer at an alarming rate. She became twice as tipsy as Ginny, who had reclaimed the tequila bottle from Ron, after he'd wrestled it away from Hermione. Hermione was soon laughing uncontrollably, unable to recognize a joke from the words, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom right quick." Harry and Ron kept giving each other half-worried, half-bemused looks. "Can't believe she got plastered," Ron whispered. "From the looks of her you'd think Fred and George had slipped her something major." Harry nodded in agreement.
Fred returned from the bathroom, looking around at his more-or-less drunken brothers and Harry, the rather intoxicated Ginny, and the completely trashed Hermione. "Well, I think it's time we went up to bed," he muttered. Hermione pointed at him, bursting out into giggles, and promptly fell off her chair. "Oh-kay, perhaps it's well past time we went up to bed."
Chuckling, Harry helped Ginny to her feet. She promptly slumped against him, asleep. Harry sighed and hoisted her into his arms, then staggered up to the room he and Ron were going to share. George grabbed Hermione's feet, and Fred got her around the shoulders, and they carried her up as well.
"We don't really have a room here," Fred said, as he followed Harry upstairs. "But I don't think Miss Way-Too-Happy here should be alone. If she wakes up, she might freak out... or else do something really crazy."
"I'll stay with her!" Ron offered, way too eagerly. Fred shook his head.
"Now, now, Ron, can't have her accosted in her sleep!" George joked. "Fred and I will stay with her."
"Ha! I trust Ron more," Harry muttered, though Ron didn't look too eager any more; he probably thought there'd be twice the teasing in the morning from Fred and George if he did stay with Hermione, as it was no secret Ron had a long-standing crush on her.
Ron opened the door, and stumbled over to the bed, apparently a lot more drunk than he'd let on. He was out before Harry could even ask where the hell he was supposed to put Ginny; he'd assumed she could sleep in the same bed as Ron, considering they were brother and sister. Grumbling, Harry set her on the other bed and decided to sleep on the floor.
Until Ginny opened her eyes, leaned forward, and puked all over the hardwood tiles.
She slumped back down against the pillows, leaving Harry to pinch the bridge of his nose and groan. There was no way he could bed with Ron; Ron was tall and muscular and sprawled all over the bed, and Harry simply wouldn't fit. Irritated, he took a deep breath and lay down gingerly next to Ginny, folding his glasses away on the bedside table. Her mouth was open slightly, and her breath smelled like—well, vomit, so he pointed his wand at her parted lips and muttered, "Limpio!" Her breath was immediately sweet-smelling against his cheek; it was a simple charm he used to bypass brushing his teeth in the morning when he was in a hurry, and it worked well.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, Ginny's breath tickling his ear. He finally rolled onto his side, but that left the back of his neck rather close to Ginny's mouth, making him shiver a little. Thoughts began running through his head, but the sight of Ron quickly quelled them; he didn't want Ron to go all over-protective-older-brother on him, like he had on a few of Ginny's boyfriends in the past. Harry turned over once again, now facing Ginny. She looked adorable in her sleep; she really was beautiful, with full lips, long lashes and a cute little nose that had a smattering of freckles across it. Her hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders in a single, gorgeous wave. Smiling, Harry stared at her, surprised to find himself wondering if she was still single.
From the next room, he could hear, "Well, should we dump her on the floor? There's only two beds, mate."
"Seems less than chivalrous of us."
"Who said we were chivalrous?"
"Good point... oh, gross!"
A familiar splat! sounded from Hermione's room. Harry chuckled, wondering which twin was going to be sleeping next to the drunken Hermione. The last sound he heard from their room was Fred and George arguing over whose idea it was to get her drunk.
End Notes: Please, leave a contribution in the little box!!!