![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
digthewriter posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rarepair_shortsAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
digthewriter
Recipient:greyeyesbluetoo
Title: The Morning After
Pairing: Hermione/**Pansy** (highlight to read)
Request/Prompt: Hermione/anyone her own gen: Waking up in bed next to the last person on earth she'd ever thought she'd shag. (for inspiration)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 425
Summary: She wakes up with a massive headache and a stranger next to her.
Author's Notes: This was a bit of fun to write. Thanks for the inspirationgreyeyesbluetoo. Unbetaed. All the mistakes are mine.
The curtains are drawn back, it’s well past ten o’clock, and Hermione’s just waking up. Her head’s pounding and her mouth tastes disgusting. She doesn’t remember how much she’d had to drink last night and where her mouth’d been.
She shakes her head trying to get the mental images of her actions last night and realises that that was certainly a very bad idea. Her eyes hurt. It’s painful to breathe.
Much to her surprise, there’s a full mug of coffee next to her and even if she doesn’t remember the person she’s woken up next to, she’s thankful for the coffee.
But…why is there a mug of coffee next to her but the person is still sleeping. Whoever it is, did they make Hermione coffee and then go back to bed? No it couldn’t be. Merlin, the idea that she’s shagged someone who still utilises the help of house-elves sends a shiver down her spine. Could she be more disgusted with herself?
Still, first thing’s first...she gulps down the coffee. She needs this to function.
The person next to her stirs and Hermione can just about make out black hair, strings of the woman’s pink tank top that’s fallen off one shoulder. Thank the gods, it’s a woman! When she finally turns to look at her, Hermione’s in complete and utter shock.
“Morning,” Pansy Parkinson mutters before she picks up her wand and spells the curtains close. “Bloody hell, I’m going to kill him.”
“Who?” Hermione asks, afraid of how wicked Parkinson can be to her house-elves.
“Draco,” Parkinson says. “Worst flatmate ever. Brings in the coffee, and then opens the curtains to annoy me. I’m sure he came in to peek at how I’d brought home last night. Like he has any right to be nosy about my life given how secretive he’s about shagging— What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You and I…last night…That was you?”
“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember, Granger! Two shots of Firewhisky and you were all hands and mouth on me,” Parkinson says casually.
“I suspect I had more than two shots,” Hermione replies.
“Well yes. Two shots to get you started, and you didn’t stop until I had to promise to kiss you so you would.”
“Oh,” Hermione says, embarrassed. She tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I thought that was a dream.”
“Hardly,” Parkinson replies. “But you have to tell me something…”
“What?” Hermione asks, genuinely afraid.
“Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”
digthewriterRecipient:
greyeyesbluetooTitle: The Morning After
Pairing: Hermione/**Pansy** (highlight to read)
Request/Prompt: Hermione/anyone her own gen: Waking up in bed next to the last person on earth she'd ever thought she'd shag. (for inspiration)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 425
Summary: She wakes up with a massive headache and a stranger next to her.
Author's Notes: This was a bit of fun to write. Thanks for the inspiration
greyeyesbluetoo. Unbetaed. All the mistakes are mine. The curtains are drawn back, it’s well past ten o’clock, and Hermione’s just waking up. Her head’s pounding and her mouth tastes disgusting. She doesn’t remember how much she’d had to drink last night and where her mouth’d been.
She shakes her head trying to get the mental images of her actions last night and realises that that was certainly a very bad idea. Her eyes hurt. It’s painful to breathe.
Much to her surprise, there’s a full mug of coffee next to her and even if she doesn’t remember the person she’s woken up next to, she’s thankful for the coffee.
But…why is there a mug of coffee next to her but the person is still sleeping. Whoever it is, did they make Hermione coffee and then go back to bed? No it couldn’t be. Merlin, the idea that she’s shagged someone who still utilises the help of house-elves sends a shiver down her spine. Could she be more disgusted with herself?
Still, first thing’s first...she gulps down the coffee. She needs this to function.
The person next to her stirs and Hermione can just about make out black hair, strings of the woman’s pink tank top that’s fallen off one shoulder. Thank the gods, it’s a woman! When she finally turns to look at her, Hermione’s in complete and utter shock.
“Morning,” Pansy Parkinson mutters before she picks up her wand and spells the curtains close. “Bloody hell, I’m going to kill him.”
“Who?” Hermione asks, afraid of how wicked Parkinson can be to her house-elves.
“Draco,” Parkinson says. “Worst flatmate ever. Brings in the coffee, and then opens the curtains to annoy me. I’m sure he came in to peek at how I’d brought home last night. Like he has any right to be nosy about my life given how secretive he’s about shagging— What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You and I…last night…That was you?”
“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember, Granger! Two shots of Firewhisky and you were all hands and mouth on me,” Parkinson says casually.
“I suspect I had more than two shots,” Hermione replies.
“Well yes. Two shots to get you started, and you didn’t stop until I had to promise to kiss you so you would.”
“Oh,” Hermione says, embarrassed. She tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I thought that was a dream.”
“Hardly,” Parkinson replies. “But you have to tell me something…”
“What?” Hermione asks, genuinely afraid.
“Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”
