A/N: This is a story I wrote as a challenge in Live Journal. I liked the story, but of course I didn't win the challenge. I just thought it was funny. I can't remember what the prompt was but I remember thinking I should have won. --Rita
Meeting of the Slug Club
Professor Slughorn invited his favorites to an evening of the "Slug Club," and since Ginny could find no excuse not to attend, she grudgingly told the good professor that she would be there. She was trying to figure out a way not to show, because she found Horace Slughorn to be a pretentious fat old fart. He did have interesting guests and there was always plenty of good food there but most of the members, except for Hermione and Harry, were bloody pretentious, too.
Ginny especially disliked Slytherin Blaise Zabini whose only reason for belonging to the club was because his mother was a very rich and beautiful witch who seemed to be the constant widow. The rest of the "Slug Club", with the exception of Cormac McLaggen and Melinda Bobbin, were friends of Ginny's. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger made up the rest of the club.
Thinking she was running late, Ginny ran into Slughorn's office and ran right into Blaise Zabini who was closing the door.
"Rude, much?" Ginny said, pushing her way in.
Blaise put his fingers to his lips and made a shushing sound. He pointed to the big desk that was magicked to accommodate Slughorn's enormous frame. He was smirking a little and pointing his finger downward. Curious, Ginny walked carefully behind the desk and there was Horace Slughorn, with a empty firewhiskey bottle stuck on his big toe. He was dead drunk, passed out, naked as the day he was born.
Ginny gasped then erupted in a burst of giggles, holding on to Blaise, who was trying desperately not to laugh. For a brief moment in time, Blaise Zabini, Slytherin, who held nearly everyone in contemptible distain, and Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor, shared a laugh at the expense of the pompous, self important Horace Slughorn.