There was light, a bright unwelcome light shining onto her eyes. She didn't want to open them just yet, because opening them would mean she was awake, and she wasn't entirely ready for that scenario. It would bring too much responsibility, she would have to get up, and do things, when staying here in bed was a nicer alternative. Besides, she had a feeling that if she tried to move her body might revolt and the party that was threatening in her gut would kick off.
It was strange because she didn't remember drinking, anything. The dryness in her mouth, and the steady pound of her brain belied that however. Maybe she had drunk so much that she couldn't actually remember drinking anything? That would certainly explain it, didn't explain how out of character it was. Getting so drunk that she remembered nothing of the night before wasn't something she did.
Hermione sat up slowly, keeping her eyes closed she reached out and grabbed her dressing gown from the end of the bed, pulling it on slowly. She walked on autopilot to the door, catching herself from slipping over a pair of pants in the hallway. Steading herself she leaned down slowly, and picked them up.
"Oh no," she muttered, dropping them again. They weren't hers, she knew instantly. She didn't own a pair that colour, nor that size, and she certainly didn't wear men's trousers. Foolishly she walked down to the living area of her small flat, hoping that the owner was laying innocently on her lounge. Which they weren't, Hermione looked back at her bedroom door apprehensively.
"Coffee," she said quickly, "I need coffee, hot coffee, right now."
Hovering over her coffee machine, she tried not to think of her visitor. She had paid no attention to the other side of the bed when she got up, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But there was something, there was a mighty big possibility that someone she knew was lying there, naked.
So after two cups of coffee, and no emergence of them, she headed down the hall. Peeking around the door frame into her bedroom, she cursed her idiocy. How she hadn't noticed them before was amazing, they, he was spread out face down across her bed. The only clue to their identity being the shock of red hair on her pillow.
Great, that narrows it down to one of six possibilities.
Creeping into her room quietly, Hermione inched around to the other side of her bed. She crouched down beside them, yelping as their eyes opened, falling back onto the floor.
"Morning," he groaned.
"Yeah, morning," Hermione said, standing up, rubbing her behind.
"Comfy bed," Fred muttered rolling over.
"I like it."
"This is weird."
"You think?" Hermione laughed shortly.
"Quietly please," he moaned, running his hand over his eyes. "Do you have coffee?"
"Yes, what the hell happened?"
"We... you, and me, we..."
"Coffee? Water? Ear plugs?"
"What happened?" She snapped, her hands on her hips, leaning over him.
"Well, the party was a sinker, so we all proceeded to get absolutely shit faced..."
"Speak for yourself, I only had eggnog."
"Yeah, Lee's eggnog."
"Well clearly, things happened, and I woke up in your bed without my pants. Plus with you leaning like that, you didn't wake up with all that much clothing on."
"Shut up," she snapped, pulling her robe closed.
"Hermione, my head hurts, I feel like I'm going to be sick, and you aren't making me feel any better," Fred sat up slowly. "It happened, we can't take it back, but we can make it a little easier."
"Easier? How can we possibly make this different?"
"Well, I can either go back to sleep, but going by your expression you don't want me in your bed at the moment. So, I would like to put my pants on, go to the toilet, and maybe drink something not alcoholic, preferably with caffeine in it. And then maybe, just maybe, have an adult conversation about this when my head doesn't feel like it will explode."
"I like the second option," she said, standing up properly.
"I thought you would, Hermione?"
"I need my pants."