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113 Days Later (In Time Series 2)	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 8954 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
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Hermione opened her eyes and winced at the brightness that suddenly invaded her brain. Groaning softly, she closed them again and pulled the duvet up over her head, blocking out the light and trying not to notice the pounding that had started like jungle drums in her head.
‘Morning.’ Ginny’s voice permeated through the layers. ‘Got a hangover, have you?’
Hermione wasn’t sure she could talk, but she knew that now Ginny knew she was awake she would have no choice but to get up. She emerged slowly from beneath the duvet. The room was still unbearably bright, the sharp winter sun blazing through the window to coat the entire room with its pure white light. She groaned again.
‘I’m feeling rough as old boots this morning, so Merlin only knows how you must be feeling,’ Ginny rasped. She was sitting on the edge of her bed holding her head in her hands. ‘You really caned it last night, Hermione.’
Hermione gave another loud moan as she sat up, the pain flaring in her head. She had a nasty feeling she was going to be sick.
‘Scuse me a minute,’ she just about managed to croak as she forced herself out of bed, her hand going to her mouth as she ran for the door. A few minutes later she was back, her skin pale and clammy and her head still banging but at least most of the queasiness had gone. She was carrying a glass of water, which she passed to Ginny, who didn’t appear to have moved since Hermione had got up.
‘Here you go,’ she grunted.
Ginny took the proffered glass, stared at it for a moment as if it was poison, then took a tentative sip. She waited a couple of seconds to ensure there were no nasty repercussions, then took another, larger mouthful.
Hermione was now rummaging in her case, finally finding and pulling out a small bottle. As she walked back to her bed she un-stoppered it and took a mouthful of the potion within, then held it out to Ginny. Her friend took it and drank, then followed it with more water. She passed the glass back to Hermione.
‘My head hurts.’ Hermione’s speech had finally returned properly.
‘I know what you mean,’ Ginny commiserated. ‘What the hell was in that punch George made?’
Hermione gave a rueful chuckle as she sat back down on the bed and put the empty glass on the nightstand. ‘Merlin only knows, but it serves us right . . . we already know we can never trust George, so I don’t know why we drank something he prepared, especially when we had no idea what he had put in it.’
Ginny’s eyes glittered as she said, ‘Perhaps you felt you had no choice when it was your boyfriend plying you with the stuff.’
Hermione frowned. ‘My boyfriend? I haven’t got a boyfriend.’
‘No? Are you sure?’ Ginny asked wickedly. ‘With the amount of snogging you and George did last night I was certain you two had hooked up.’
‘I didn’t kiss him that much,’ Hermione said defensively, although the truth was that she was still having difficulty remembering with any clarity the party the night before.
‘You’ve got to be kidding. The two of you were locked together for half the evening,’ Ginny said, sounding amused. ‘Don’t you remember that Ron told you to get a room at one point . . . although to be honest, I think he was a bit jealous.’
As Ginny spoke, remembrance of the evening began flooding back and Hermione’s heart sank as she recalled the considerable amount of time she had spent with George, quite a lot of it away from the prying eyes of everyone else at the party. It looked like she needed to have a quiet chat with him today to make sure the remaining Weasley twin understood that what had happened between them had been because of drunkenness, on her part at least, and not because of any particular desire for him.
Drunk and feeling incredibly horny but unable to play with the man she really wanted, Hermione had let herself get carried away and she didn’t need George thinking there was anything between them because of it. She liked him, but not in that way. He was no replacement for Arthur, whatever she may have tried to pretend at the time.
‘Mind you, you were snogging everyone last night,’ Ginny continued blithely. ‘It was almost like you were following the mistletoe around. I think you really upset that new girlfriend of Percy’s when you freed him before she could do it.’ She chuckled. ‘You certainly weren’t holding back, either. Poor Percy looked shell-shocked. I don’t think he’s ever been kissed like that before.’
Hermione could feel her stomach churning again but this time it was with anxiety, not because of the hangover. There were still quite a few elements of the party that she didn’t remember but they were lurking around on the fringes of her memory like unwelcome ghosts getting ready to scare the life out of her.
‘You even got Dad. That was really funny,’ Ginny said.
‘Funny?’ Hermione asked weakly. Her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest as she tried to remember kissing Arthur and prayed that she hadn’t done anything stupid.
Ginny snorted but then sobered a little as she remembered. ‘He was one of the first people you kissed. I don’t think either of you realised you were trapped under the mistletoe at first, and no one else did either. Then Dad was going to go and talk to Kingsley, who had just arrived at the party, and he couldn’t move. You were already pretty drunk by then so you sort of grabbed him and really got stuck in. It was a bit awkward actually because then you seemed to realise what you’d done and you got really embarrassed about it. You kept apologising to Mum, kept telling her that you hadn’t meant to do it.’
She snorted again, then added, ‘I’d blame George for that, though. He was the one who kept plying you with alcohol in the first place — probably hoping he’d get to cop off with you. I think he’s got a real thing about you, Hermione.’ Ginny got up from the bed. She stretched, yawning loudly then added, ‘I’m going to go and have a shower. Maybe that will make me feel better because sitting here certainly isn’t doing anything to help. I’ll see you shortly.’
Hermione, mortified at what Ginny had just told her, sat silently on the bed as she wracked her still painful brain trying to recall the kiss with Arthur. Damn, she really had lost control, and badly from the sound of things. She should have known better than to get so drunk but Ginny was right about George plying her with his lethal punch. She remembered his grinning face every time he topped up her glass, assuring her that she was fine and that it wasn’t all that alcoholic.
She sighed. It hadn’t taken her long to get drunk, either. She wasn’t used to alcohol so it had affected her quickly, especially as she was already anxious about having to interact with Arthur with so many other people around, so she was drinking more quickly than she would normally do anyway.
Her original plan had been to completely ignore him as she usually did in the house unless someone pulled her into a conversation with him, in which case she would smile politely, say hullo, and move on. But then the punch had taken hold and the mistletoe had started appearing all over the room and all her common sense had flown out of the window, leaving only the overwhelming and almost crippling desire to kiss Arthur.
Hermione remembered that she had tried to ignore the urge, for a little while at least. But then she had got caught under some mistletoe while she was talking to Ron and the deeply unsatisfying kiss she had received from him made her desire for a decent kiss from the man she adored most in the world flare ever brighter.
It had only taken one more drink and her edging ever closer to the object of her affection before she was finally standing with Arthur talking about the Christmas tree decorations. Hermione knew that he had been feeling as awkward and anxious as she, trying hard to maintain control, and then the mistletoe appeared.
Despite what Ginny said, Hermione knew that Arthur had known it was there every bit as much as she had and he had also realised that they had no choice but to kiss if they wanted to move. Of course, if she hadn’t been so pissed the kiss would have been a brief peck on the cheek or maybe a chaste but cheeky kiss on Arthur’s lips before drawing away, but drunk and as ever, already aroused by being near Arthur, Hermione had grabbed him and kissed him every bit as ferociously as she had done that first time in the shed.
Fortunately, Arthur wasn’t drunk, and being far more sensible he had resisted the urge to kiss her back, instead pushing her away before quietly reminding her where they were. The horror at what she had just done engulfed the drunken Hermione like a tidal wave and she could remember the tears in her eyes as humiliation leached through her.
Feeling an urgent need to assuage the mistake she had just made, Hermione immediately accosted Molly, apologising profusely for her behaviour and assuring her that nothing like it would happen again. Molly had been surprisingly gracious, and a little amused, and had joked about it being Arthur’s Christmas present, which had done very little to ease Hermione’s guilt and absolutely nothing to stop her desire for another kiss with him.
That was when she had made the decision — stupid, in hindsight — to kiss every man at the party in an attempt to cover up what she had done with Arthur. Being on the wrong side of drunk hadn’t helped as it made it seem like the logical solution. But now, in the cold light of day and nursing a stonking hangover, Hermione knew she had done nothing but make herself a laughingstock for the whole party, and she suspected she was in for a lot of ribbing about it from her friends.
The only good thing was that none of the Weasleys seemed to consider the kiss she had given Arthur to be any different from the ones she had given everyone else, so at least she had been successful in that, even if she had upset Percy’s new girlfriend and given George false expectations in the process.
Hermione knew she had to be careful after her stupid actions at the party. The good thing was that with the hangover she was currently suffering she had no desire to indulge in any more alcohol so she wasn’t going to get drunk and do something idiotic again, but it was more important than ever that she stick to her rules and ignore Arthur as much as she could while they were both in the house.
‘I’ve just remembered that you kissed the Minister for Magic,’ Ginny said, still sounding amused as she returned to the bedroom, surprising Hermione out of her reverie. ‘Can you remember what he was like? I’ve always thought Kingsley’s quite sexy. I wouldn’t mind giving him a kiss . . . but don’t tell Harry that.’
Hermione shook her head. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Kingsley had been on her hit list, but at the moment she couldn’t remember kissing him.
‘To be honest, Ginny, I don’t really remember very much about last night. Whatever George put in that punch seems to have completely removed my memory.’
Ginny studied her for a moment if as trying to assess whether Hermione was lying or not.
‘You haven’t forgotten about disappearing off with George, though, have you?’
Hermione shrugged and grimaced. ‘I sort of remember it, but you know—’
‘Well, I’d try to remember if I were you. I’ve got no idea what the two of you got up to—’ at this point Ginny smirked, her eyebrows rising as if she knew exactly what Hermione and her brother had been doing— ‘but you were pretty late coming to bed and he certainly seems very chipper this morning.’
Hermione felt her heart sink. She really was going to have to talk to George as soon as she could. But first she needed to get dressed. She forced herself to stand up, sighing loudly as the effort was so great because of the hangover.
‘I ought to go and have a shower too,’ she told Ginny. ‘I just hope it helps a bit.’
‘I wouldn’t hold your breath,’ Ginny warned unhappily. ‘I still feel really rotten.’

Arthur was exceedingly frustrated. He urgently needed to spend some time on his own in his shed, or better still with Hermione, but instead he was stuck in the lounge with the rest of the family, listening to that bloody Celestina Warbeck woman that Molly loved so much. Normally he didn’t mind listening to her but this year he really wasn’t in the mood, and he didn’t need his wife’s occasional reminders about how the various songs punctuated their life together, either. All he could think about was Hermione and how close she had come to giving away their secret at the party the night before. But then, as he remembered ruefully, that was his own stupid fault.
He had been aware of the mistletoe and had even subtly moved Hermione so they would get trapped underneath it, a vision of giving his beautiful lover a chaste yet sneakily public kiss exciting him for a moment. But he had completely misjudged how drunk Hermione was and before he knew what was happening she was kissing him every bit as passionately as during their first kiss in the shed.
Arthur’s first instinct was to kiss her back, his heart racing as his arousal flared sharply. However, luckily for them both he hadn’t been drinking George’s punch, unlike most of the party guests, and was therefore still relatively sober, so he had held himself back and ended the kiss as swiftly and with as little fuss as he could manage.
He knew Hermione wasn’t happy about his rejection but it was the only thing he could do and it had saved any difficult questions being asked. But then, just when he thought they had got away with it, Hermione had suffered a nasty attack of guilt at what she had done and had drawn Molly’s attention to it by apologising profusely.
Fortunately, his wife was in a good mood and having drunk some of George’s lethal punch herself she teased Hermione about it rather than taking umbrage. Arthur wasn’t sure what had gone through Hermione’s mind then, but she seemed to take it upon herself to kiss every man at the party, including the Minister for Magic, upsetting quite a few wives and girlfriends in the process, although from what Arthur could see he suspected she didn’t really care about that. It hadn’t bothered him too deeply, either, as it made their kiss seem less targeted, which was good for retaining their secret. But then Hermione ended up wrapped around George and everything changed.
His son had been plying Hermione with his infamous punch all evening in between the kisses she was bestowing on everyone and was in the perfect position to take full advantage when her arousal finally overtook her alcohol consumption. The newly-forged couple spent a considerable amount of time snogging at the party, which Arthur wasn’t very happy about although he obviously couldn’t say anything. But then the two of them disappeared and Arthur was certain his son was about to be the lucky recipient of far more than just a kiss from Hermione.
Jealousy flared like a volcano spewing its lava within him, surprising him with its heat and intensity, as Arthur suddenly realised that he didn’t want anyone touching Hermione but him. He was aware the desire was hypocritical considering he was a long-married man who had no intention of leaving his wife for the young woman he was getting so upset over, but he was unable to stop the feeling and spent the remainder of the evening vainly waiting for the couple to reappear, while his mood grew ever more fractious.
Arthur was on the verge of going to find them, determined to put a stop to whatever was happening between the couple, when Molly gently suggested it was time for the party to end, so instead he was pulled into saying farewells and ensuring the guests took all their belongings with them.
By the time they finished Molly was ushering him to bed and he had no choice but to leave George and Hermione to continue with whatever it was they were doing. He spent a long time lying awake in bed with a raging erection, his anger steadily increasing as he imagined in great detail the pleasure his son was getting when it should be he who was reaping the rewards of Hermione’s beautiful body.
Morning had brought a lot of bad hangovers and unwell silences as most of the family sat in the kitchen helping Molly prepare the vegetables and side dishes for the upcoming lunch. Arthur, whose mood wasn’t at all improved when George appeared with a massive grin on his face and a spring in his step that told his father everything he needed to know about what the lad had been doing with Hermione, was given the chance to spend some time in his shed, but for once he wasn’t really interested.
If Arthur could have got Hermione in there too it would have been a different story as he very much wanted to talk to her about her time spent with George and to remind her of what he could offer that was better than anything his son might have done with her. But she was with the others at the table, looking ill and quietly sipping her tea as she peeled the sprouts and steadfastly tried to ignore George every bit as much as she was ignoring him.
Arthur’s bad mood decreased slightly with Hermione’s behaviour although he had to hold himself back from snapping at George, who was doing his best to try to get her attention. But it swelled again when, once the preparation work was done, Hermione left the table with a small sigh and disappeared off into another room with George.
His first thought was to follow them in order to stop them from doing anything. But Arthur didn’t think Hermione was feeling well enough to do anything sexual and the look on her face as the couple departed didn’t indicate that she was particularly enamoured of her companion, so he suspected they weren’t likely to do much more than talk.
Knowing he had to calm down, Arthur finally took refuge in his shed, but instead of relaxing him it just annoyed him more as he thought of Hermione in the company of George rather than him. She belonged to him, not his son, and she should be out here being examined by him rather than whatever it was she was currently doing. He tried to take his mind off Hermione by working on a broken radio he had been slowly repairing over the previous couple of weeks, but today nothing seemed to give him satisfaction and he found it hard to concentrate.
By the time he made his way back into the house Arthur’s mood had dipped again, and it was a subdued group that sat around the Christmas table. Even the crackers didn’t seem to add their customary sparkle to proceedings, and it wasn’t long after the Christmas pudding had been cleared away before people started drifting off to their rooms for a lie-down and the chance to recover, both from the heavy lunch and the party the night before.
Arthur had been anticipating a return to the shed, hopefully with Hermione accompanying him this time, but she was one of the first to leave the table, disappearing up the stairs with Ginny before he even had a chance to look in her direction. Instead, he did the washing up, allowing Molly to have a sleep — the punch had obviously been a real killer for everyone — and by the time the family re-emerged it was early evening and Celestina’s regular Christmas concert was being broadcast on the radio, and Arthur knew he was trapped for the rest of the evening.
His only slight comfort was that George no longer seemed anywhere near as happy as he had earlier in the day, but then Hermione didn’t look very happy either. Arthur couldn’t decide whether it was something to do with what had happened between her and George earlier or whether she was still suffering from the after-effects of the punch.
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113 Days Later (In Time Series 2)