I'm not gay! | Pansmione | Hp | Texting

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Non-texting chapter

Hermione

"Where's the alcohol?" I ask.

"Right here." She opens her drawer, giggling, pulling out some fireball.

"That is a giant fucking bottle of fireball. How the hell did you get that in here? They check everything that you bring in here."

"It's complicated." She says, smiling like a fool.

"Agh, fuck it, I don't care. May I have some?"

"Of course!" She pulls out a shot glass, "Help yourself." 

She's definitely drunk. I mean, she's fucked. I want to be fucked too.

Four shots later

"Hermione! Are you a lightweight?!" Pansy asks in a shocked tone.

"No." I slur.

"I'm drunk, and even I can tell that's a lie." She giggles.

She's such a happy drunk. I'm just really dysfunctional when I'm drunk. I don't really become happier, sadder, angrier, or anything of the sort. When I'm drunk, you can just tell but you don't see much emotion. However, if I had to describe myself as a drunk, I would probably also be a happy drunk. I take another shot. She pulls out a bottle of Mikes and takes a sip. "You want some?" She offers.

"Fuck yeah." I accept.

I swear, I'm usually not this bad. I have a reputation as the good girl know it all. Even the good girls aren't good though. Nobody is pure in this world.

"God, we're not going to be able to get up for school tomorrow." She lets out a little care free laugh.

"School!" I shriek.

"Yes?"

"Oh my god, oh my god. I will not be able to function tomorrow at school. This is awful."

She lays her head down on my lap, I'm currently sitting "Criss cross apple sauce." Pardon my childish language, I never learned any other word for it. She brings her hands up to my hair, holding a little bit of it in her hand. "Your hair is soft." She observes.

"Thank you." I smile.

"You're like a kitten."

"Thanks." I mumble this time.

I take in the moment. We're just here. I never enjoyed simple physical contact before. You know, the simple feeling of one body pressed to another body. Everyone talked about cuddling and holding hands and all of that simple stuff as if it was the best thing they have experienced. When I was dating Ron Weasley, I never understood what the big deal was. Here I am now, not even dating this girl, and I know exactly what they mean.

"How often do you drink? I ask.

"Not often. I'm no alcoholic. I usually only take one shot or so. Unlike someone else, who's name happens to start with an 'H' and end with an 'ermione,' I am not a lightweight. Today was different though. I usually only drink once every two weeks--and I drink on the weekends."

"Why was today different?"

"You."

"Pansy, I'm sorry!" I shriek a little bit.

The thing about being drunk that I don't like is that it increases your emotions quite a lot. If something happens that would usually make you happy happens, it makes you twice as happy as normal. If something happens that would usually make you sad happens, it makes you twice as sad as normal.