Harry Potter and the Drinking Problem
By: SilverLunarStar
Disclaimer: I hold no claim over Harry Potter. Most of us know how I would have ended things had I owned those fantastic characters. This is no way making light of the actor's problem, who I also don't own. In fact I think it addressed it pretty seriously considering that was not the prompt at all. *Sigh*
Author's Note: It was past 1:30AM and I was innocently going to drop jessicaqueen (known as Queen of the Castle here at ff. net) a Happy Birthday! at LJ a few minutes ago when I ran into her prompt (Harry Potter saves the world while completely plastered). I tried to make it cracky, I really did, but apparently Manni the Muse wanted serious (plus, Hermione wouldn't stop crying in my head), so apologies in advance.
Hermione cried herself to sleep every night. Ron had left after it had all gotten to be too much. Sniffling, she burrowed herself further into the bed, trying to get some sleep before her shift began. She couldn't, however. All she could think about was her friend and his problem. He was no longer the sweet boy she once knew, but she couldn't leave him. He needed help and if she didn't who would? She fell into a light sleep which is why she was able to smell him before she heard him.
"Hermione." He shook her a little.
"Harry, you stink," the words were out before she could stop herself and she winced. This was how she was going to help him?
Instead of caring, though, he simply shrugged. As strange as it sounded, Hermione would give anything to hear him shout at her, if only because that would mean he wasn't in a drunken stupor. How were they ever going to find the Horcruxes if he was smashed all the time?
The time they went into the Ministry of Magic? Harry had somehow procured some firewhiskey the night before. Even Ron who loved that vile stuff had objected to drinking the night before one of the biggest missions of their lives. She'd been surprised that it hadn't tampered with the Polyjuice Potion's potency. Hmm, that was something to look into in the futureā¦
When Ron left, he once again made the alcohol appear.
After finding his parents' gravesite and losing his wand? He drank. She'd even been slightly afraid he'd get violent on her since his broken wand was somewhat her fault.
It stopped while they were at Bill and Fleur's cottage, but only because he was never alone. He never drank in front of her, but she knew that, had he had time alone, he would have found some way to drink because of Dobby's death.
They were going to sneak into Hogwarts with the help of Albus Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, when she found him with a flask. This was the final straw.
"Harry! What do you think you're doing?"
The green-eyed boy looked at her guiltily. He knew he had a problem. A big problem, but he just couldn't help it. It felt good to numb down all the pain he'd been feeling since Dumbledore's death. Once they entered the castle, just before they go to the Room of Requirement, Harry looks at his two best friends kissing, dead behind the eyes. While many could put it down to a broken heart, it was simply because he was so intoxicated and didn't know what was going on.
When he decided to walk into his death, it took a few more gulps of liquid courage and went for it. It'd been surprising that he'd been able to have one coherent thought and had realized where the Resurrection Stone was. Once he saw the ghosts of his loved ones, he was sure he'd finally gone round the bend, but it was too late to back down, so on he went.
'Dying,' he thought, 'was a lot like being drunk.' However, in this limbo of sorts, he could think clearly, he mostly understood what was going on. A part of him kept wondering, however, whether he'd simply fallen and was dreaming all of this while under the influence. It wouldn't be the first, or the last, time that he had an odd dream. Suddenly, however, he could feel his body again, feel the dryness in his throat. He'd convinced Draco's mom to declare him dead (don't ask him how, because he didn't know) and suddenly he was being carried by a crying Hagrid. He wished he wouldn't cry for him. He was nothing but a kid who had the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders who got plastered every chance he got.
When he revealed that he was still alive, Harry didn't want to duel. He was tired. He was so, so sick and tired of everything. He tried to convince Voldemort that it was all in vain. Snape was never loyal to him, Snape had never been the master of the Elder Wand, and if he even felt an ounce of remorse this could be over.
The Dark Wizard doesn't listen and tried to use the Killing Curse, but it backfired on him. The Wizarding World was saved.
About a year later, an article came out with Harry Potter admitting that he'd been drunk, but not drinking, while completing his mission.
Did not mean to make it so solemn; the last sentence was my sad attempt at salvation. Sorry Jessica. :(
Hope you find someone to do cracky for you and that you have a Happy Birthday!
~*Eli
