A story in which Hermione, the school's well known senior Miss Little Perfect, has her morals tempted by an unbearable junior who seems to do nothing but tear up her reputation that she spent years building.
And the unbearable junior seems far too...
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"I wonder how you New Yorkers party." chattered (Y/N) to her small group of friends, the lot walking in a less busy area of NYC, quite empty in fact, the street dim, lit up by several street lights.
"I wonder how Harry sorts his parties." corrected Pansy, turning her head to her left side where a ginger walked beside her. "How hard did Harold hit his head to think of organizing a party?"
"You know seniors are obligated to throw the first party of the year." explained Harry's girlfriend, Ginny. "Draco volunteered again, obviously. But the last time he did, he and Astoria stayed in his bedroom the whole night. Cedric offered but we said we want to spend Christmas at his instead. So Harry was more of a last resort. But don't worry, I planned it out for him."
"Phew." Pansy let out a sigh of relief, showing her trust in the ginger's party expertise. "Since when do you wear sweaters?" she spoke to the jock, noticing the change of aesthetic.
"I like sweaters!" insisted (Y/N) with a huff and a ruffle of her hair. Honestly?Sweaters have always been cute, but she always opted for varsity jackets or hoodies. If she wasn't wearing something tight, she'd be wearing one of the two. So Pansy did have a point, but was the jock going to admit it? No duh.
They reached the Potter's residence. The loud music blasting their eardrums and the smell of booze prominent even just from outside the porch. Entering through the front door, they were met by a big crowd, laughter and chatters roaring in the whole house. It was a tad bit hard to see from the mix of blue and purple lights, but (Y/N) didn't mind, she always loved these type of parties.
And so, she let herself loose. Accepting the drinks and games that were being offered to her. She'd occasionally make laps around the room and end up have several new phone numbers, a good amount of new friends, and sometimes a lipstick stain on some part of her face or neck.
"Oi! (Y/N)! Asshole!" laughed Pansy, making her way to the sofa where her best friend sat, seeing all the lipstick stains. "It's not even Christmas yet you're being a ho ho ho." she snickered, the jock only sticking out her tongue at her in a childish manner, and Pansy, as childish as her, gave her middle finger.
"Oh fucking hell," groaned (Y/N) as she stood up from the sofa, making her way through the big crowd. The music blasting in her ears were far too loud for her, the blue and purple lights annoyed her. She loved parties and booze but she never knew when to stop. So she forced herself to go out in the front yard of the Potter's residence, the cold fresh air sobering her up a tad bit, but not even close enough.
She rested her back against the wall, looking down at the grass. She didn't want to leave, but she hated having a shitty hangover, and by the looks of her state, she'd be rotting either in her bed or the toilet tomorrow morning.
"Surprised to see you outside the fun." spoke a familiar soft voice that caught (Y/N)'s full attention, lifting her head up to see the honey brown-eyed girl, wearing a simple light brown sweater and a pleated mini-skirt.
"After seeing all those posts on your profile, I thought you'd be able to handle yourself a little better than this." she snickered as she took in (Y/N)'s features. Messy hair that suited her, plump lips that probably tasted of alcohol, her face a shade of red, and most of all a grey sweater that she so wanted to steal. The way the jock's usual cocky or unbearably unfunny demeanor was replaced with a flushed one, heavy breaths leaving those plump lips. It took every ounce of self control in Hermione to not go on her tip-toes and kiss the taller girl.
"Aren't we the same age?" huffed (Y/N) with a puzzled face, noticing how Miss Little Perfect was perfectly fine despite the shot glass in her hand, she doubted that it was the first and only one. Hermione wasn't one to drink alot. Hell, she wasn't even the type to go to these type of parties. She worked far too hard for her Miss Little Perfect image.
"I can handle my alcohol fine," shrugged Hermione, throwing the shot glass in the trashcan near them. "You probably could better than me. But I saw you down like two dozens." she added. Her face flushed a bit as she realised that she hinted that she was watching the jock the entire time. She thanked God that (Y/N) was too drunk to notice— she probably wouldn't notice when she's sober either cause she's fucking dense. But oh well.
Hermione was too caught up in her shyness before she got startled by hands making their way to her hips, pulling her in as she let out a slight gasp, a head falling down on her shoulder.
"I wanna go homeee," whined (Y/N), her head facing the side of the cheerleader's neck, her breath fanning over the skin, making Hermione shiver slightly.
"Okay, okay. I'll drive you home, just get off me, loser." chastised Hermione, pushing the taller girl away and quickly turning around to hide her rosy face. "Come, we can leave now."
(Y/N) let out a happy hum and gladly followed the cheerleader out of the Potter's residence, hopping into the front seat of Hermione's car. And once she got in, she felt her sleepiness completely consume her and drowsed off on the spot.
"(Y/N)—" uttered Hermione as she got into the front seat, seeing the latter fast asleep. "How the fuck am I gonna drive you home if I don't know your address? (Y/N)!"
The jock replied with a snore. Hermione let out a sigh, recollecting her thoughts. "Fine, I'll take you to my place but I swear I'm forcing you to sleep on the sofa, and if my cat sleeps on your face, know that it's your fault for getting this drunk."
...
Hermione let out a sigh of relief as she finally managed to settle the jock on her sofa, heavy pants leaving her lips. She debated with herself, whether she should leave the latter like this or give her some treatment. She looked down and took in (Y/N)'s features, her face red and a thin layer of sweat on her forehead. Hermione got worried, thinking that the girl might overheat.
She went upstairs in her room and soon came back with a damp towel and one of her large t-shirts. "(Y/N)?" she spoke out softly. "I brought you a shirt, could you take off your sweater and wear it?" she requested nicely.
"Mm," was all (Y/N) could say, her hands lazily reaching down to the hem of her sweater, taking it off and throwing it to the floor, her back still on the sofa, the cold air hitting her toned stomach. Hermione let out a rather nervous gulp and settled herself on the floor near the sofa with the damp towel on her hand.
"Quite the fanclub you have, huh?" said Hermione as she lightly wiped off the lipstick stains on the jock's face and neck.
"You're really pretty, could we go on a date?"
Hermione let out a small giggle at the invite. "You're really drunk, baby. Besides, you're too overzealous, no? I don't blame you though, you're a junior after all."
"I can be whatever you want," huffed (Y/N) in complaint. "I can be fun, serious, smart—"
"You're dumb." sighed Hermione.
"I can be that too." affirmed (Y/N) insistently.
Hermione was glad that the drunk girl didn't notice her biting down on her bottom lip to fight off her smile. Miss Little Perfect never really went to parties, but perhaps she wouldn't mind going to them if it meant that she got to take care of her favourite junior.
