Title: Why Harry Potter shouldn't drink.
Summary: One abnormally bright morning, Harry Potter grudgingly wakes up. This particular abnormally bright morning, he wished he never did.
Disclaimer: the characters I am humiliating do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling and any other copyright holder. No money being made, and frankly there isn't much to be sued out of me anyway.
Important note: this is a humour fic, as such any and all angst is being blatantly ignored. This includes deaths and any relationship problems that may or may not have happened. At best, they will be referred to in passing and already dealt with.
This chapter is fairly short, just to set the question of 'what the hell happened last night?' The rest will be longer. The very last sentence will make this seem like I'm going to write a harem for Harry in this. I assure you I am not, or not technically anyhow.
It was a troll. That troll that had gotten snot on his wand in first year. There was no other explanation for it. It had somehow shrunk itself, clambered inside his head, and was now enacting it's cruel revenge by rampaging about his head. Either that or Hagrid had found a new home for his half brother.
This was a fairly accurate description of Harry Potter's feelings when he woke on the morning of August 1st.
He screwed his eyes shut in a feeble attempt to protect them from the offending sunlight streaming in through the window. He had slept with his glasses on, so any blurriness was purely a side effect of alcohol. He didn't recognise the room he was in. It looked unused, the walls were bereft of wall paper, in need of some paint. In fact that only reason the room seemed at all habitable was due to the bed and window. A window which Harry dearly wished had curtains.
He swung his legs out of the bed and stood, and quickly fell down onto the hard wood floor. It felt as if the planet had decided it didn't like him, and promptly attempted to shrug him off.
Somewhere in Harry's alcohol soaked brain, however, he knew he was massively hungover, still rather drunk, and had merely fell over. He decided this must be what Tonks felt like.
"You alright Harry?" a groggy voice slurred.
Harry grunted, turning his head towards the voice. Fred and George were sat up against the bare walls of the room, leaning on each other slightly. He wasn't sure whether it was Fred or George that had spoken, but he had one eye half open while the other twin snored loudly.
"How much did we drink last night?" Harry rasped, his voice hoarse and his mouth feeling like sandpaper, half expecting the redhead to tell him that they had emptied an entire distillery last night. Apparently coming of age required unfathomable amounts of alcohol.
"I can't remember," the twin replied.
Harry tried to stand again, using the bed to ensure the planet couldn't get rid of him this time. The only woken twin following suit, his hands on the wall for support. The other twin slid sideways in response to the absence of his brother, his head hitting the floor slightly.
"Oooww," he groaned, apparently woken by the impact. "My head did not need that."
"I think, Fred," George said, answering Harry's question of who was who, "that we need hangover potions."
"You have hangover potions?" Harry asked hopefully, slumping sideways slightly so his hand could better support him from the bed.
"But of course Harry, this is our place," Fred replied, getting up shakily with the assistence of his brother.
"We always keep them on hand, just in case we have a coming of age party to attend."
"Hey," Harry said, looking around the floor, "what's all this?" As he said this he had picked up what appeared to be a bank note. The floor was covered in them.
"Money, I think. Muggle by the looks of it," Fred said.
"Never seen anything like that," George said.
"I don't think it's British."
"What the bloody hell are we doing with foreign money?" Harry asked, his voice still raspy. "And what is that?" Harry asked, picking up a small trophy amongst the notes strewn about the floor. It was a cup on a wooden base, and on the base the words Miss Lap Dance were engraved.
Harry looked to the wins, who looked back at him.
"Let's just get our hangovers sorted out, then we'll try and figure this out."
Harry nodded, following twins out of the plain white door and into a hallway. They took the first left, and entered a rather large kitchen, in which Fred began rummaging through the cupboards.
"Er, George?" he said.
"If you tell me we have no potions left I will hex you," George responded, sitting at a small table, conjurring a third chair so Harry could follow suit. Harry was very thankful about the table being away from the sole window, from which more evil sunlight was seeping through.
"Okay, we have plenty, I'm just being cruel and not giving them to you."
"If that's true, then I'm going to hex you," Harry said, feeling his wand in his back pocket and wondering what Moody would say to him sleeping with his wand there.
"Bugger," George said, placing his head in his hands. "Right," he said, getting up, "looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way."
"Coffee then?" Fred asked, grimacing slightly.
"Of course brother."
Harry remained in his seat, slumped slightly.
"You want something to eat, Harry?" Fred asked.
"Gyah," Harry said eloquently, "I don't think my stomach could take it. Even if I did trust any food from you." Harry had long since learned that any food produced, offered, or otherwise in the presence of the twins was to be treated with suspicion.
"Now Harry," George said, "we may be merciless pranksters-"
"-but we would never prank a man hungover," Fred finished.
"Kicking a fella while he's down, that is," George added.
Harry grunted, but kept his answer the same. The twins shrugged, putting a mug of hot coffee in front of Harry and sitting at the table. Silence fell over them as they sipped at their coffee, wallowing in their hangovers.
The unmistakable sound of someone entering through the floo network came from another room. Harry looked up sharply, thinking that if Death Eaters were going to attack then now would be the absolute worst time. Surely Voldemort had some mercy.
"Don't worry Harry," Fred said, "our floo is blocked to all fireplaces apart from headquarters."
"Which means," George said, "it could be mum about to grill us for getting Harry so pissed."
Fred and Harry paled. Molly Weasley was bad enough while sober, never mind hungover. Suddenly Harry was hoping for Death Eaters.
"Does she know how drunk we were?" Harry asked.
"I can't remember," the twins both replied.
"Don't worry guys," a disgustingly chirpy voice said from the kitchen doorway, "it's just me."
Tonks stood in the doorway, long violet her and blue eyes, grinning like a maniac.
"Oh dear god," Fred said. "I know that grin. I hate that grin."
Tonks only grinned wider while Harry wondered what was so bad about Tonks grinning. He remembered her joining them last night. She was still rather depressed about failing to snag Remus, so they had invited her to join them for a few drinks. A few turned out to be a lot.
"What are you grinning about Tonks?" George asked. "The last time you grinned like that was when ... well we agreed never to speak of it."
Tonks nodded, and helped herself to some coffee. She began whistling loudly, causing the others to groan. Louder still when she looked in the cupboard and discovered the deficit of the mighty Hangover Potion.
"Tonks," Harry groaned from his seat. "If you don't stop that incessant whistling I will curse you into oblivion. And how on earth are you not hungover? You were matching us drink for drink last night. I think," Harry finished, frowning as he tried and failed to recall his memories of the previous night.
"No, I think I'll carry on," she said, close to his ear, and carried on whistling.
"Silencio" Harry hissed, using his wand. Instantly the noise stopped, and Tonks stood back a bit, looking like she was still trying to whistle and still smiling.
"Thanks, Harry," the twins said, looking slightly relieved.
The clink of glass caught there attention, and they turned to the source of the noise. Tonks stood, grinning evilly, holding three vials of sky blue potion. The twins gaped.
"Hangover potion," the twins murmured reverently.
Harry immediately removed the charm. "Sorry Tonks, can I please have one? Pretty please?"
"No, I don't think so Harry, that wasn't very nice," Tonks said, still grinning.
"Tonks you're lovely and beautiful and the greatest person I have ever known, please?" Harry tried again.
"Nope," Tonks chirped, and made to walk out of the kitchen.
"Get her!" the twins shouted.
"Levicorpus!" Harry yelled, him being the only one with a wand still out.
"Argh!" Tonks yelled as she was lifted into the air. "Let me down you git!" she shouted, laughing none the less.
"Fred, George," Harry said, smirking, "if you please."
"Of course Harry," Fred said as they forcibly removed the potions from Tonks. They gulped theirs down, and gave the third to Harry who did the same. The waited five minutes, ignoring Tonks' threats and struggles.
"Ah," Fred said, "sweet relief."
Harry readily agreed.
"You can put her down now mate," George said.
"Aw, can't I keep her there for a while?" asked jokingly, but let her down at her answering glare.
"That was just mean," Tonks pouted.
"You still haven't explained your grin, what did we do?" Fred asked.
"Wait, if it's something we did, why would she be grinning?" Harry asked. "She was with us, wasn't she?"
"Harry, you have to understand that this woman has no shame when it comes to drunken nights."
"Nothing will embarrass her, while we on the other hand ..." Fred trailed off.
Tonks said nothing, but produced a copy of the Daily Prophet from her robes.
"You don't read that tripe do you?" Harry said.
"Not normally, but this particular one I think you'll be interested in," Tonks said, her grin increasing further as she handed the paper to Harry. He didn't bother reading the whole articles, merely scanned through the headlines. His eyes went wider and wider with each headline.
DEATH EATERS FOUND IN COMPROMISING POSTIONS
EX MINISTER CORNILIUS FUDGE FOUND NAKED IN DIAGON ALLEY
GRINGOTTS ENTRANCE SOILED
KNOCKTURN ALLEY: PATHWAYS INSULTING PADESTRIANS
These headlines, including the first, were ignored by Harry, all but the next two. He looked to the grinning face of Tonks.
"Is this-"
"It most certainly is Harry," Tonks said with glee. "And they," she said, gesturing to the headlines, "aren't even half of it."
Harry looked back to the last two headlines.
BOY-WHO-LIVED GETS HAREM
The picture underneath this headline showed Harry, grinning drunkenly, surrounded by ten rather attractive and provocatively dressed girls. Some were quite familiar, including Tonks. What didn't help was that the girl to his right on the picture had her hand somewhere it really shouldn't be, performing movements that the public eye shouldn't see.
HARRY POTTER: THE-BOY-WHO-STRIPPED
He didn't even look at that picture. Just to Tonks, then to the shocked faces of Fred and George, then back to Tonks, who's evil grin would send Bellatrix Lestrange crying for her mother.
Harry promptly fainted.
Don't worry, there will be more, with more embarrassing actions. I'm not going to let them off this easily. Drop me some feedback, I've been out of writing for a while and would like to know how I'm doing. Feel free to be blunt, I'm a big boy.
