Margaritas

"And then," Hermione managed between her sporadic fits of laughter, "he just got up, without paying the bill!" she delivered the punchline, causing both herself and her best friend Harry Potter to succumb to the hysterics overtaking them.

"I don't believe it!" Harry choked out. Hermione nodded, slamming her balled up fist several times onto the carpet while trying to regain her breath. Once her chest was rising and falling at a fairly regular rate again, she reached up to the coffee table and lifted her glass off of its coaster, taking another long, appreciative sip of her Margarita. Harry clutched his side and copied her actions.

"Yes, Jack was a bit of a git, wasn't he? I'm so glad that I've had Paul now for a respectable six months," Hermione's eyes glazed over as she said this in a more serious tone. Harry waved his hand.

"Right, because Paul's not a prat in any way at all, is he? He's just a boring stiff with a drab office job. Really, Hermione, I don't understand what it is you see in him," Harry confessed, draining his Margarita glass. He, too, was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Hermione's flat, enjoying a would-be peaceful night together if they hadn't both consumed extreme amounts of alcohol. Hermione sobered up a little.

"Well, he's quite sweet," she thought for a moment, then pushed up off the floor, using the table as an aide to balance herself. "Would you like some more?" she asked as she was starting off towards the kitchen nook for another glass for herself. Harry shrugged.

"Might as well, as long as you don't mind me hanging around here tonight. I probably shouldn't Apparate home like this," he thought carefully, handing her the glass. She walked towards the kitchen, swaggering only slightly. Harry smirked while watching her; she was wearing an old pair of flannel pajama bottoms that he had given her, which made them much too long for her legs so she would step on the bottoms. This threw off her balance even more. He thought that the tiny thin-strapped shirt that served as a top for her pajamas looked a little thin and cold, but then again, girls had some sort of way to keep warm in tiny articles of clothing, yet be cold and demand one's jacket at the most inopportune times. Her long, wavy chestnut hair was swept back into a messy ponytail high on her head, wisps sticking out all over the place.

"Nah, you can stay here for the night if you'd like. It's not like I have anything better I could be doing right now," she said sarcastically, though it came out more as a hiccup. Harry laughed at this. "Oh yeah, and Paul, he's funny, too."

"I really don't think that office jokes count, Hermione," Harry pointed out. Hermione glared at him as she walked carefully back into the room with the two full glasses, obviously trying not to stumble.

"Sure they do. Wait a minute, why are we picking on my romantic life, Mr I-Haven't-Had-A-Date-In-Two-Years?" she stumbled and plopped back down, proving how limber she was as she crossed her legs in a Yoga fashion easily. Harry took a gulp of his now-full drink, the tangy flavor settling back into his mouth.

"I like my freedom!" he claimed after a few moments. Hermione giggled.

"Sure you do, Harry. So this is your version of 'Playing the field'?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry nearly stuck his tongue out at her, but at the last second realized how immature that might be, and merely countered with a quick, "So what if it is?" Hermione snorted with laughter.

"Oh, come on, Harry!"

"I'm not interested, Hermione. I'd rather focus on other things right now --" he cut himself off before he let anything else slip. Hermione gave him a light smack with the back of her hand across his chest. He could see that her actions were slowing down immensely.

"Like what?" she paused, then slurred. Harry thought for a moment, taking another swig of his drink. He was taking them in halves now, almost.

"I don't know, work?" he said finally when he couldn't think of anything else.

"Yes, cause that's a very pertinent priority in your life, isn't it, Harry?" she asked, only half-sarcastic. Harry pretended to be offended.

"You know it is."

"Well, listen, I have a very nice witch friend from one of my classes, and I've been talking to her a little and she seems quite interested in you. Well, I mean, of course she's interested in you, you're bleeding Harry Potter, but --"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry interrupted. Hermione's eyebrows automatically knitted together. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face before answering.

"You know, you're Harry Potter, Witch Weekly's 'Most Eligible Bachelor' for four years running. You have the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' … thing." She hiccuped. Harry laughed.

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose, but … well, I really don't think that I want to get in the Dating Scene right now, Hermione. I've been so busy lately, it'd just complicate things," he told her with some sincerity. She looked at him, wide-eyed for a moment. She became very fidgety briefly, biting her lip. He could have sworn he heard her mumble something about Ron, but he imagined that might've been the Margaritas talking.

"What'll I tell Hannah?" she finally asked. Harry couldn't resist laughing.

"Who?"

"Hannah!" she waved her hand absently, "You know, my friend… The one that was so very interested in you?"

"Oh," said Harry passively. He couldn't help but think that there was only one witch in his life that he wanted. "Just tell her no."

Hermione tried to stand up then, nearly stumbling over and crashing into the coffee table. Harry, reaching up just in time, caught her arm. He, too, stood up and steadied her, even though he was feeling slightly wobbly himself.

"Whoa," he said as she slumped back on him. "You all right?" he wondered after a minute. She nodded sleepily.

"Bed," she mumbled. Sighing, he scooped her up into his arms and began walking towards her bedroom. She held onto his neck tightly and nestled her head into his chest. He gulped as a stray bit of her hair got into his face. Wild, imaginative thoughts entered his head, but he pushed them out as he laid her out onto her bed. No, he thought to himself sternly. She has a boyfriend. Besides that, why now, Harry? Why not five years ago when you had the chance? She's your best friend, don't mess it up.

Careful not to wake her, as she had already fallen fast asleep, Harry crawled fully clothed in the bed beside her. Subconsciously, she rolled over into his arms, cuddling against his chest and throwing one leg across his. Harry took a deep breath in, not wanting to wake her, but he knew that if he stayed this way he was taking a chance that he would blow everything. She didn't make it much easier when she laid her head down right in the crook of his arm.

He looked at her sleeping peacefully and decided that it would be all right for one night.

*

Harry awoke the next morning in a queen-sized bed all by himself. At first, he couldn't remember where he was, but the vague memories of the previous night came back and slapped him in the face. His first thoughts were, Where is Hermione? As if she were reading his mind, he heard her voice from the kitchen.

"Harry?" she called. Harry moaned and sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing of the hangover. How could she be so perky?

"What?" he moaned back. She shuffled into the room, wearing a fluffy white robe and her hair dripping wet.

"I was making eggs for breakfast and I was wondering if you wanted any?" He blinked, and rubbed his temples.

"A glass of water would be nice. How exactly is it that you're up and moving around?" he asked. She smiled brightly at him.

"There is a charm for getting rid of hangovers, you know," she said, her know-it-all tone returning from their Hogwarts days. Harry grumbled incoherently for a moment, then requested that she caste it on him. She agreed, waving her wand and muttering the incantation, "Deborachos." Instantly, Harry felt his headache lift, and there were no churning feelings in his stomach. He thanked her, then got out of bed.

"Now, how about those eggs?" he asked with a fairly bright smile of his own. Hermione returned it then led the way to the kitchen.

"I have a pot on for tea if you'd like, but I could also make some coffee." Harry shook his head.

"Tea will be fine, thanks." There was a bit of an awkward silence in which Harry realized that he was still wearing his clothes from the previous day, though now they were slightly more wrinkled. Hermione noticed this too.

"I have some of Paul's clothes in the back of the wardrobe if you'd like to get changed out of those. I think you two would be about the same size," she informed him. Harry cringed at the thought of wearing anything that belonged to her boyfriend.

"No, thanks, I'll be fine for now." Another uncomfortable silence pursued. Hermione cleared her throat to try to ease the tension as the eggs sizzled.

"So, would you like to give Hannah a chance?" she asked after a short while. Harry looked at her blankly.

"Who?" She sighed.

"We went over this last night. My witch friend Hannah, you know, from one of my classes?"

"Oh, right, her. And I already told you that I didn't want to. I don't really have time for dating right now," he lied. He yearned for a date, but not from Hannah. Hermione gave him a strange look. "What?" Harry asked after a minute of this.

"Nothing," she said quickly, then went back to her eggs. A rapping at the window made them both look up. Ron's newest owl was pecking at the glass, her sleek brow feathers glistening in the early morning sun. Harry walked over to let her in, and greeted her by holding out his arm.

"Hermione, she's got a letter from Ron for you," he informed her, untying the letter and handing it to Hermione. He then put Ron's owl in Hermione's spare cage out of the reach of Crookshanks and gave her some fresh water. Hermione unfolded the note and read it over, her eyebrows creased until she was almost through, when she broke out into fits of laughter.

"What is it?" Harry was curious. Hermione waved her hand through her laughter.

"Nothing, nothing, just something that I forgot to do for Ron last night and now he's scolding me about it."

"But you were with me last night… How would he know that you hadn't done it?"

"Oh, he knew that I was hesitant in the first place," she said, her tone dismissive. Obviously, she didn't want to share whatever it was.

"All right," Harry let it go, though he was now slightly curious. He began to fish around in the refrigerator for some fresh vegetables to feed Ron's owl.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was oddly high-pitched when she called his name.

"Yeah?" he replied, pulling his head out of the refrigerator and narrowly missing hitting it.

"Could you come here for a moment?" she asked in that same oddly pitched voice. Her back was currently to him across from the kitchen. He walked over curiously, stopping just short of her. She turned around, and her face was indecipherable. "I just needed to, er…" she trailed off, and suddenly seized the collar of his rumpled shirt, pulled him towards her, and roughly forced his head down and met his lips with hers.

Harry was extremely shocked at first, and did not kiss her back, but when she wouldn't let go he melted into her and began to drink her in. His arms encircled her waist and pulled her body closer to his. He could feel her hands on the sides of his face as he let his creep up her back and entwine themselves in her wet, tangled hair. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips as he began to feel a little more confident, and she opened her mouth to let him in. Gently, he explored, flicking his tongue across her teeth and teasing her slightly. She moaned softly, crushing her lips to his even more firmly.

Then all at once, she broke away, leaving them both panting with small smiles on their faces. Hermione peered up at him with her large cinnamon eyes glinting.

"I was right; Ron was completely and utterly wrong," she said softly. Harry was confused.

"Wrong about what?"

"We had a bit of a bet going, you see, and I was even starting to believe Ron's side of it, but then it turns out that I was right all along -- I mean, after that, who could possibly believe that you're gay?"