Hermione Granger is fucking drunk. She knows it and she doesn't care, waving her hands to every song, shaking her hips and grinding with her girls. Her phone has been ringing off the hook since Ginny sent a picture of the girls to Harry, who was apparently with Ron when he opened it. Hermione already knows the routine, but she meant it this time, she's done and she's not going back. She wants to remember that there's more out there, and that she deserves more than Ron would ever offer. That he took her for granted for all this time. She lets her phone ring and ring. She already knows what the texts and voicemails say; she's not going to ruin her buzz or makeup reading texts that were curated to break her. 