Chapter 1 – Slurry-beer and Acid-shots

The evening offered dance and lively faces in the light of the shining torches that had been placed along the walls throughout the hotel. The great hall where the celebration was held had been decorated with the old House flags, colors and mascots, filling out the large – and otherwise empty – room with spirit and joyfulness, yet – given the circumstances – also a rather melancholic form of nostalgia. There was no more Hogwarts, after all. Apart from the memories, this was all that were left from the old school, and perhaps even for the very last time. People were aware of this fact; it was obvious, yet they also seemed aware that it wasn't a "funeral" and by celebrating and having a good time, they could pay tribute to a great era that once was – without feeling too gloomy or shameful.

Harry was one of them. Or at least he tried to join the celebrations, though presently his head was preoccupied with much more pressing matters. He had once again been able to reconcile with his own inner green monster, when he saw none other than Dean Thomas entering with Ginny Weasley under his arm. Harry had not rushed at him; somehow he could not see that it was necessary. Not tonight. No, there might just be a better solution. He could not avoid Ginny forever.

Ginny was not particularly enthusiastic either, when she spotted the dark-haired, bespectacled boy of her heart standing in a corner in the far end of the hall, making ominous countenances. Clearly, because of her 'reunification' with Dean, but they both had to move forward – Harry knew that as well as her – and at a perfectly normal gathering for the remaining pupils of Hogwarts, she might as well try to get on with both parties. Her heart was with Harry, and it would always be, no matter what, but since she could not be with him in the way she wanted, she had to resort to other means: Jealousy. It wasn't perhaps the best way to start out, but she knew that she had to talk to him sooner or later, preferably before the party was over. He would not come to her – that she knew – so she would indeed have to come to him.

Harry watched Ginny at a distance. Her eyes were directed towards the band which played mournful love songs, and she didn't even look towards Harry's direction. His eyes glided downwards. She had changed during their time apart. She had become a bit higher and gotten curves. Her wavy, long hair glowed more reddish than ever and she wore a beautiful dark burgundy-colored dress that complimented her hair and pale, freckled skin exceptionally. However, what struck Harry the most were the sparkling diamond earrings dangling from her earlobes and the ring on her finger. His heart skipped a beat, and he eyed the arrogant, haughtily grinning Dean, who went around and shook hands with all and sundry. Harry caught a glimpse of his flirting eyes towards the girls from the school with whom Dean once (at that time still in a relationship with Ginny) had "talked" tremendously.

"If only Ginny could see how stupidly that prick is behaving!" Harry thought tight-lipped, but he was suddenly snatched from his glooming thoughts: A rather frantic Hermione with her hair all messy and her new dress wrinkled stood in front of him, blocking his view.

"Have you seen Ron?" she whispered exasperated through clenched teeth without bothering hiding the obvious annoyance in her voice.

"Why, yes," Harry said, still a bit baffled at the sight of her. "He is dancing with Bella Crumble – the girl from Flourish & Blott's. He invited her to the party when he was down in Diagon Alley to retrieve the original release of 'Detoxification Potions for Novices'. Look. They're dancing together over there …"

Hermione followed his finger towards a closely entwined couple near one of the speakers. Harry turned his head back towards Hermione and watched her enraged expression change into a flustered one; her wide eyes flashed, while her mouth opened and closed, and in the next moment she turned away from Harry and the sight of Ron and Bella and marched angrily out of the Hall. Harry looked puzzled after her, contemplating what had just happened, and understood only then what Hermione was so irate about. He looked towards Ron who threw himself close about Bella, as an octopus with its eight arms. Clearly, he had not noticed anything. Harry knew that this was a problem that he would no longer be able to solve for them, at least not for the moment, so he shrugged and reiterated his eyes towards his prior 'engagement': Ginny and Dean. They still sat at a table, but now, all of a sudden, Ginny had placed herself so she could look directly towards Harry.

He had always been able to make out Ginny's facial expressions when she was out to something, but this time it was confusing. A moment ago she had not deigned to look at him, and now she starred intensely at him as if she badly wanted to come in contact with him. Harry had, on the other hand, no desire to make any small talk, and certainly not with Ginny, since he knew what it could lead to. Guilt, pain … desire. Desperate to get his minds off how effective Ginny's eyes and red lips were on him even at this distance, he reluctantly pitched his thoughts onto something completely different – something he ever since Dumbledore's death and Snape's betrayal had had in his head: How he should obtain the last of the Horcruxes. He stood for a moment with fists clenched, however he quickly came to better ideas. Honestly! Joyous and happy people walked past him, so why couldn't he also take advantage of the situation and relax a little bit – for a change?

Alright. Need to relax. Relax. Relax … How? The first thought that came to his mind was – alcohol. Of course! He strode determinately towards the bar and ordered one of Fred and George's magic wonders: Acid-shots! He took one mouthful and coughed strongly as the burning, neon-green liquid slid down through his throat, feeling like he was swallowing barbed wire. He grimaced and looked at his glass. He really didn't want to know how the twins came up with this stuff. Yet, it kept him somehow occupied and distracted him momentarily from his thoughts.

Unexpectedly, he heard a loud and all too familiar, dopey voice nearby talking animatedly. Ron had finally let go of a somewhat disheveled Bella, who had almost fallen asleep over Ron's renewable sermons on the Quidditch matches, in which he had heroically participated at Hogwarts. Harry shook his head as he watched Bella collaring a reeling Ron with an iron fist and confronting him, and thought it was best if he quickly withdrew from the anticipated scenery. He moved unnoticed in the direction of Luna and Neville, who sat alone at one of the tables, a bit remote from the more animated festivities.

"Pumpkin juice, my lord?" Neville giggled with a gargling sound, as he spotted Harry and handed him a filled glass, in the process spilling most of its content down his sleeve and on the floor. Lunas cork-necklace rattled when she chuckling shook her blond head and leaned in to whisper into Harry's ear: "I poured some love potion into his juice," She eyed Neville, who seemed to have serious trouble getting up from his chair, and smiled softly. "You know, just for the fun of it – and now he is totally intoxicated with Romilda Vane. It is a shame she's always the one to suffer, right?" Luna laughed heartily, and Harry couldn't help but joining her. He looked towards Romilda who stood in a corner – blissfully unaware of Neville's frantic and most likely unrequited infatuation with her – and talked with Cho Chang and her friend Marietta Embridge. Almost all from his old year group had turned up, and as the hotel was large enough to contain at least three full-grown dragons, many other pupils – young as well as old – had appeared to meet and talk about the good old days at Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't help thinking about all those who had had to leave the school early, and where they were to go now when the best school of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he knew of was closed. General Muggle-education could not possibly be considered; he knew all too well how difficult it was to hide one's powers in such a long time – and especially among Muggles. Besides, who could call themselves a wizard or a witch if no one had even had the proper education? Or rather – who could not?

Just then, Harry's thoughts were once more interfered, as Ron came staggering towards him, looking more and more stewed for every minute.

"Bella's going home because she says she's tired," he told sulkily and snorted. "And I really don't understand why..! I mean – the festivities have only just begun!" He quickly swilled some liquid, which in Harry's eyes had no resemblance to pumpkin juice whatsoever, and once again stumbled towards Bella, who was still sitting at a table with her arms crossed, looking rather displeased. Just as Harry had given him a resigned shrug and turned his back on him, the air broke with a resounding SMACK followed by a rather loud BUMP, exactly as if someone had been slapped and then had hit the hard wooden floor. Almost everyone in the room turned around to see where the sound came from; asking what had happened, and Harry and Luna were the first to run towards the familiar sound of a wailing person in the middle of the dance floor. Their guesses were confirmed when they saw who was sitting on the floor, rubbing one tender and flushed cheek while a huffy Bella Crumble was striding out of the hall with determined steps.

"I simply asked her whether I should follow her home," Ron said with a defeated, croaking voice as Harry and Luna exchanged glances, then stepped forward and helped a rather weakly Ron up from the floor.

"Maybe you should stop with the drinking - just for tonight, Ron," Luna said as a reproachful remark, and Harry couldn't agree more when Ron's reeling head took a drastic move towards the floor for the second time that night.

A few minutes later, Ron woke with a gruff sound after having received several amounts of cold water into his pale face. Harry and Luna stood silently around him, watching him with concerned faces. All the guests had continued with the dancing, talking and eating long ago, and no one had taken further notice of Ron. They had become accustomed to his bizarre behavior lately. Even Neville had taken the time to comment on Ron's state before he himself went cold in the middle of the dessert (in this case pudding), surrounded by five drunken goblins. However, it worried Harry that Ron was acting like this. It wasn't like Ron – no matter how foolish he could behave at times – this just wasn't like him, and Harry had a faint idea why.

"Where is Hermione, by the way?" Ron asked out of the blue, as if he suddenly realized something – or rather someone – was missing.

"Hermione went a long time ago, Ron, but you were so engrossed by Bella and kept drinking that – that awful stuff – I really don't want to know what it was – so I didn't want to tell you that she went," explained Harry (and added in his head: "Or rather HOW she went"), looking a little apprehensive at Ron's now bleary-eyed, almost yellow face.

Ron looked down at the floor with a shameful, rather worn out expression on his face, as he nodded, "Slurr.. Slurry-beer."

"What?"

"It was Slurry-beer I drank", he murmured again, and Luna immediately took a few steps back as his face began to switch to violet. "Fred and George have sold it the entire evening, and they seemed to have so much fun so I – well, I just thought, 'Bloody hell, why can't I also try it and have a little fun for once?' and so I drank it and –" Ron suddenly grimaced, clutching his stomach in wretched pain. "Oh, Merlin's beard – my stomach! I should NEVER have drunk it!"

"Well, I think that's why it's called 'Slurry', Ron," Luna noted with a sympathetic look and shrugged knowingly towards Harry.

Ron complained immensely for a long time, and it was only when Luna had infiltrated the "antidote" at Fred and George's – a blue-striped potion with an incredible stench – and given it to Ron that he began to get a normal skin color again. He kept asking for Hermione, but no one had seen her since she had left the party. Sullen and crestfallen he told that he would go to bed early in the hope of awakening the next morning without a hangover, which at present seemed quite unlikely. Harry and Luna could only support this idea; after all that had happened this evening, they thought he wouldn't find the party nearly as joyful again, anyway, and that a good night's sleep couldn't do much harm.

Just as Ron had closed the door to his room, someone knocked hard on it. Though still a bit groggy, he managed to gather himself and slowly opened. Outside was a furious Hermione with unruly hair sticking out from her once elegant hairdo and with a deadly glare in her eyes. Though surprised at first, Ron couldn't help smiling at the sight, but he quickly got the better of himself and instead nervously bit his lower lip; Hermione did not seem to be in the mood for Ron's usual silly excuses.

A/N: If possible grammar mistakes or foul syntaxes should occur, I do apologize. English isn't my first language, so please bear over with me. And please review this chapter and tell me what you think. Thanks.

And don't worry; there will be another chapter.. sooner or later ;)