pink vanity. The shower was running on full blast, but she was not yet under it. She waited until the room was sufficiently saturated with steam before passing a flat palm over the glass and wiping away the condensation.
She stared at her reflection.
Her eyes passed dispassionately over the dark circles under her eyes, taking in the pallor of her face and the redness of her lips. Her lips were naturally bee-stung, but that morning, they were nearly double in size. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, seeking out the tiny splits and tears with her tongue. There were whisker burns at the corner of her mouth and under her right ear lobe. With a hand that shook slightly, she reached up to touch the red patch on the side of her neck. She pushed her steam dampened hair off her face. Her makeup was smeared. The remnants of her stay-fast mascara added to the rings under her eyes. All trace of lipstick was long gone. It looked like she had lost a small pearl stud earring as well.
Hermione thought her eyes looked duller than usual, but then they had never been a vibrant colour. Brown eyes were utilitarian, in her opinion. Nothing at all like Harry's startling, catch-your-breath green or Ron's chameleon hazel, or Malfoy's scalpel silver.
Malfoy.
Hermione groaned, dropping her face into her hands. He didn't remember, she realized, in mild disbelief. She wasn't sure whether to be insulted or relieved. The bastard had even been in good enough spirits to help himself to another round of of-
Gah! She couldn't even bring herself to even think it, although she recalled articulating in fine detail what she wanted from him five or six hours ago. Malfoy had obliged her, and then some. Muscles she didn't even know she had were twitching deep inside of her, coming back to life now that she was awake. There was a dull cramp inher lower belly, not unlike the discomfort she sometimes got during periods, but different, at the same time. It was a pity that she wasn't fortunate enough to suffer from memory loss after a binge.
Hermione didn't drink very often, and had only got severely drunk two or three times with the boys, and once over New Years with her cousins. There were the dreaded hangovers, usually, and the chucking up that invariably came after sharing a bottle of Tequila Tapatio with a well meaning Ron and Harry.
When it came to recollection, however, Hermione had no problems. She was a systematic thinker. When faced with a dilemma, a solution could almost always be formulated by going back to the start of the problem and re-tracing her steps. Her mind was clamouring to do just this, given that sleeping with Draco Malfoy certainly qualified as a rather large dilemma-slash-problem.
"Graduation," she whispered to her reflection, sounding reproachful.
The face in the mirror stared back at her with a forlorn expression. Graduation, drinks and euphoria had culminated in the worst lapse of judgment she had committed since turning herself into Millicent Bullstrode's cat in their second year.
Why their graduation celebrations had wiped her worry-slate clean was a mystery. There had been nothing to celebrate. Voldemort was still at large, Death Eaters were still conducting sporadic attacks on wizarding households. Aurors were being recruited by the dozen, and security was at an all time high. It should have been a toned down celebration, instead of what it had been.
She remembered slipping on her formal robes as if on autopilot, before making the last minute arrangements as befitted her soon-to-be-relinquished duties as Head Girl. When she had finally walked down to the Great Hall thirty minutes after the party had officially started, the festivities were in full swing.
The mood had been contagious. There were couples everywhere, laughing, dancing, engaging in obviously deep and meaningful conversations judging from the intense looks on their faces.
Their NEWTS were over and done with. No more exams, no more classes. No more battling evil, psychotic wizards and then having to take an Arithmancy test early the next morning. In two weeks, she would be leaving the place she had called home for the past seven years. There would be no coming back. She had accomplished so much at Hogwarts, done things she never would have thought possible.
And yet there was regret. Over what, she wasn't certain.
She had thought about what she would miss the most about Hogwarts. The more she watched her classmates, the more restless she became. Suddenly, the thought of