High (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

First Timers

"You guys are out of your fucking minds." Ron and Harry merely laughed at her declaration. A lot. Like...ripping their guts out laughter. "Oh, great. You guys are high."

Hermione might have been the Brightest Witch of Her Age, but she was also the daughter of "intellectual" Muggles. Her parents, though dentists, occasionally smoked with friends—various pseudo-intellectual types who would every so often get together and engage in light drug use, so as to reclaim a portion of their youth. In an act of rebellion, she had snuck into her parents' stash a few times to see what the fuck the fuss was all about.

She didn't really like it. It burned her throat and the smell was just awful. But she couldn't help but feel mildly jealous at how much Harry and Ron seemed to enjoy their botanical experiment. When she entered their dorm, she did not expect to find Harry and Ron lying on their backs on the floor, rocking back and forth, rubbing their faces and attempting to sing "I Believe in A Thing Called Love" in tandem.

"Where did you even get weed?"

Harry attempted to feign innocence and shrugged, his laughter threatening to resurface.

Ron answered in an overly formal ton, "What weed?"

"The weed you both reek of! It was Dean wasn't it? He sold it to you." Her fellow Muggleborn Gryffindor chum was always bemoaning the lack of an equivalent 'recreational plant' in the wizarding world and bragging about his 'connections.' From what Hermione could smell, it wasn't very good weed they had been smoking. Although she wasn't overly fond of the drug, she could appreciate the difference between pot that had been procured by adults with expendable incomes and that which had been purchased by a sixteen-year-old with his paltry allowance from some seedy kid in a Tesco parking lot.

"Hey don't you mean 'weed of which you both reek'?" Harry responded with a shit-eating grin worthy of the Ferret himself. "Ppppsssshhh!!!!!!!!!!" Both Harry and Ron exploded in teary laughter once again.

"You're both idiots." Hermione muttered, deciding to relocate to Someplace Else. On her way down to the Common Room, she encountered a familiar face on the stairwell. "Dean, any idea why Harry and Ron would eat an entire carton of Chocolate Frogs while making rug angels on the floor of the boys' dorm?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at the brunette witch. The two had always had a sort of friendship based upon their shared Muggle heritage. They ripped on each other's favorite bands and shared knowing glances and eye rolls whenever a classmate displayed an embarrassing ignorance of Muggle references.

"I sold Harry an eighth. Probably something to do with that. Don't tell me they smoked it all already."

"Go look. I'd hazard a guess they did. You know they've never done that before, Dean. Why didn't you tell them not to smoke it all in one sitting?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I've never educated anyone in marijuana safety before. Don't tell me you're mad that I held out on you" he leered.

"I really don't care, but we were all supposed to go to Hogsmeade together today. There's no way they're going anywhere."

"If they smoked that much pot in less than an hour, they need to take a walk."

The two marched back up to the boys' dorm and dragged Harry and Ron, kicking and screaming to the Common Room.

"HEEEEEEEEEEELLLLPPP!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! FUUUUUUCK NOOOOOOOO!!!" Ron bellowed.

"Shut the fuck up, Ronald! I'm barely touching you. You're actually moving yourself." Hermione snarked.